#and see that freeing the world from his tyranny

[therulerofallpotatos]

The episode "Jet" is so incredibly important to me

[fir-fireweed]

VIATICA

A new interactive fiction available free to read on itch.io and written in Twine.

Set in a dystopian, post-apocalyptic future, with a focus on personal growth, as well as platonic, familial, and romantic bonds.

Your world is a desert, both figuratively and literally. Speech is prohibited, books are outlawed, and any meaningful human interaction is nonexistent. Humans are reduced to the job they do for The City. There are no names; instead, everyone is identified by a number.

You are H-313, a healer.

Create and customize your character: male, female, or non-binary; gay, straight, or bisexual. Become an individual in a world of drones. Learn to speak, express your emotions, define your personality. Dream big, resist tyranny, inspire the masses, and forge a new world. Or not. This is your journey, after all.

There are no point-based choices or outcomes. No choice is wrong—it simply changes the type of person you grow to become.

ROs:

B-485, Lion (he/him)

He is a builder, stoic and strong. He is tall and muscular with brown skin and black, coiled hair and beard. At 26 he is the eldest of the group. Later in the story, he chooses the name Lion for himself. He is fierce and protective of those he cares for. But what truly sets him apart from other workers is his ability to speak clearly and articulately. How? More to the point, can he teach you?

F-525, Heron (he/him)

He is a feeder, aloof and placid. He is medium height, with long blonde hair usually tied back in a ponytail and pale blue eyes. He is 22 years old, same as you. Later in the story, he chooses the name Heron for himself. He does not question his role, nor act in any way contrary to what is expected. What passions and tempers will you find when that veneer cracks? More importantly, why does he seem so familiar?

S-622, Ferret (she/her)

She is a sweeper, slender and scrappy. She is medium height, with olive skin, dark brown hair and narrow grey eyes. She is 21 years old. Later in the story, she chooses the name Ferret for herself. She is impulsive, stubborn, and quick to anger. When you first meet her she is very combative, but you eventually see the fearless and inquisitive soul underneath. Could she be a kindred spirit, or perhaps even more?

R-793, Robin (they/them)

They are a burner, lithe and wary. They have ivory skin, curly red hair, and heterochromia: one eye is green, the other brown. They are 20 years old. Later in the story, they choose the name Robin for themself. In a world where roles are based on gender and strict definitions of what a worker is, they have always felt out of place. Their discomfort was made worse by a recent traumatic experience. Can you help them to accept and appreciate the worthy person that they are?

Content Warning: This story is intended for mature audiences. Possibly triggering topics present in the story include blood, violence, death, suicide, rape (mentioned), child abuse, mature language, and sexual content (optional).

[pricelessemotion]

Never really over | S.H.

summary: [4.2k] you and steve fall apart, then fall back together.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: so much angst, best friends to exes to lovers, language, gratuitous taylor swift references

a/n: exes to lovers is one of my fave tropes so i hope i did it justice! reader is vaguely asian-coded by accident (though there shouldn’t be any direct references to r's appearance!) lmao happy AAPI heritage month to all my fellow asians

masterlist

The day after your breakup, Steve shows up at your house with a bag of takeout and a six-pack. He kicks off his shoes at the front door while you’re in the kitchen, already grabbing napkins and chopsticks. The light on the floral rice cooker on the counter just turned from cooking to keep warm. Steve is nothing, if not right on time. 

To most people, the situation would seem peculiar. But you and Steve were best friends before your break up and you had promised that you would stay best friends after it. 

You settle in on opposite sides of the worn-down loveseat, a rerun of Golden Girls playing on the television. You’re just about to ask him if he remembered to get extra sauce for the chow mein when Steve, seemingly anticipating your question, silently hands you a small cylindrical container. 

The night goes on as it usually would, with Steve lamenting Keith’s tyranny and Dustin’s antics. He helps you clean up when you’re done, scooping the leftover rice into a Tupperware container saying I gotta get myself one of these, it’s so convenient! He even does the dishes, washing while you dry, never commenting on the fact that you have a perfectly good dishwasher that you never use. 

Once he’s standing in the entryway, shoes back on and keys in hand, he instinctively leans in for a chaste kiss goodbye. 

You flinch, turning your cheek at the last second. The moment becomes a sobering reminder as to why you decided to break up in the first place. Instinct over time starts to feel like routine. Routine over time starts to feel like a chore. Another thing that you have to cross off your to-do list.

For a while, it was grounding. It felt good to be normal. Normal felt like warmth, like coming in out of the freezing cold and cozying up next to a blazing fire. But you knew from experience that the cold always comes back. As the days drew darker, the once roaring hearth settled into a pile of ashes. Being grounded can feel like being tied down. It’s only natural to want to break free. 

You didn’t realize freedom would feel like this. 

“Right.” Steve huffs out awkwardly, swinging his car keys around his index finger. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He shuffles out the door while you offer a weak goodbye. You know you’re letting the cold in by watching him as he gets into his car. You do it anyway. 

–

Steve and Dustin have taken to visiting you while you’re on shift at the coffee shop. You’re not sure why. The arcade next door seems much more fitted to their shared interests, but they still come and visit you all the same. Usually, when you come upon them, they’re standing on the other side of the till having a whispered conversation that dies the moment they notice you’re there. 

“A latte for me, and hot cocoa for the kid.” Steve says, ruffling the younger boy's hair. 

“I’m fourteen!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Maturity. Did you want a coffee? I’m sure our girl over here has some great recommendations.” 

Dustin only grumbles in response, muttering insults under his breath. Steve refuses your offer to comp their drinks, paying and dropping his change in the tip jar.  

You set both drinks down on the counter when they’re done. One is a simple steaming cup. The other is piled high with whipped cream and sprinkles, decorated with a tiny plastic snowman left over from the holidays. 

“Thank you,” Steve says, leaning against the counter. “Y’know, you’re my most favorite barista in the whole world.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only barista you know, but you’re welcome.” 

“So, would you be interested in movie night tomorrow?” 

“Wow, let me think.” You feign contemplation, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I’ll have to check my schedule. I have a meeting with some venture capitalists but I might be able to squeeze you in.”

“It’s a date.” 

“So… you guys are back together?” Dustin darts a confused glance between the both of you, his irises going back and forth as if watching a ping-pong match. 

“No!” You and Steve both blurt out at the same time. Then you both take a moment to look at each other as if to say, I know why I said no but why are you saying no? 

Is it really over?

Dustin, as observant and tactless as ever, gives off a little shrug. You mutter something about needing to go to the back to do inventory. As you’re walking away, you hear Steve say something that sounds a lot like Nice going, doofus!

–

Dustin answers the door when you ring the bell. Steve’s house has the usual suspects for movie night. Max and El are cuddled up together on the floor, practically laying on top of each other. Robin and Nancy are on the loveseat to the left, so wrapped up in each other that they barely even register your arrival. You presume that the sounds coming from the kitchen are Mike, Will, and Lucas, no doubt making one too many bowls of popcorn in the microwave.  

Steve is sitting, his arm draped over the back of the couch. Before, there would’ve been no questions as to where you would sit. The empty couch cushion practically had your name on it. You would’ve already bounded across the room and snuggled up to the boy that felt like home. 

You search the room for another option, but come up empty. Unless you want to pointedly avoid sitting next to him by crashing on the floor with the kids, which would undoubtedly draw attention to the very thing you want to ignore. 

Taking a seat next to Steve, you toe the line between platonic distance and romantic distance.

“What’s on tonight?” You ask no one in particular. 

“The Princess Bride.” Lucas replies, coming from the kitchen with a bowl of fresh popcorn. 

He barely gets a chance to put it down before the three other boys tumble onto the floor and begin shoveling the savory snack into their mouths. Max and El whine about their lack of civility, yelling at them for having spilled popcorn on the floor before the movie has even started.

“Ah, that’s my favorite!” 

“I know.” Steve finally speaks up beside you. 

“We’ve only seen it like a million times.” Max says, rolling her eyes and resting her head on El’s shoulder. 

“Hey! Little shits who eat my food and use me as a taxi service don’t get to complain about my movie choices.”

“Whatever, Steve.” The redhead remarks, with an unmistakable fondness in her voice. 

You settle into your seat. The January cold has seeped into the house and, despite the heating being on full blast, you’re freezing. Steve notices, tugging the comforter in his lap over your frame, enveloping you in a warmth you didn’t realize you missed so much. You murmur a quiet thank you that you’re almost sure goes unheard until he turns, giving you a small smile before returning his attention to the screen. 

In order to properly share the blanket, you have to scoot in even closer. You tell yourself that it’s a perfectly reasonable platonic distance, that you used to do this all the time before you were dating. If Steve is experiencing even a fraction of your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps looking ahead, paying far too much attention to the film. The palm that would usually come to rest upon your shoulder stays gripping the back of the couch. 

Sometime after Buttercup and Wesley enter the forbidden forest, you fall asleep.

It’s hard to make out anything through the dense fog. The trees around you loom large, foliage so lush and thick that it blocks out the sky, making it unclear if it’s day or night. The only light source comes from an oil lamp. 

The lamp casts a shadow over the face of the person holding it, emphasizing his strong brow and straight nose. You go to move toward Steve, but you can’t. You’re stuck. Ankle deep in sand, coarse and with the consistency of molasses, that slowly creeps up higher and higher. It takes you a moment to realize; the sand isn’t getting higher, you’re getting lower. 

You’re sinking. 

Desperately, you begin grasping at anything and everything that might get you out. It’s futile. The more you move, the further you fall. You’re waist-deep now. Steve is still standing there, stone-faced, oil lamp flickering. He turns, walking into the fog and taking the light with him. 

You open your mouth, wanting to scream. Needing to scream. But only one word echoes throughout. It does nothing to stop Steve’s retreating figure. 

Stay. 

“Hey,” Steve is tugging on the sleeve of your sweater. “Wake up.” 

The fog dissipates. Feeling slowly returns to your limbs. The first thing you realize is that you fell asleep on Steve’s shoulder. The second thing you realize is that, due to your impromptu nap, the distance between the two of you is practically nonexistent. You recoil, sliding yourself as far away from him as you can. Steve flinches at the sudden movement. 

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft and comforting, like a childhood blanket that you can’t sleep without. “It seemed like you were having a bad dream.”

You blink your eyes furiously, trying to shake the sinking feeling that has settled deep into your stomach. 

“Where is everyone?” You ask, avoiding his question. The once lively living room is now empty. Remnants of movie night surround you in the form of stray pieces of popcorn and a nearly empty tub of Red Vines. 

“They all went home about twenty minutes ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed so comfortable. I didn’t wanna wake you.” He shrugs, saying the next words gently. “Are you having nightmares again?” 

Before, you would tell him yes. You always talked to Steve about your nightmares. Most of the time he was there to witness them firsthand, waking up to your shouting and thrashing. Some nights, he would be able to coax you back to sleep with soothing words and tender touches. Other nights, he would stay up with you for hours, talking about nothing. The next day, the deep bags etched under his eyes would serve as another reminder of just how tiring you could be.

“I’m fine.” You wipe the corner of your mouth, cringing at the slight dampness you find there. Great. Not only did you fall asleep on Steve but you also drooled on him. “I think it’s time for me to head out.”

Leaping from the couch, you get to the foyer in record time. Your shoes are already halfway on before Steve appears, standing in between you and the door. 

“You don’t have to. You know the guest room is always made up for you if you want it.” He bargains. 

“I— I have to go. I’m sorry. Goodnight Steve.” 

“Please, you’re tired. At least let me drive you.” He’s practically pleading, already moving to grab his car keys.  

“Just let me go, Steve!” Your outburst echoes throughout the empty house. 

Steve takes a step back away from you. “I’m sorry.”

Regret washes over you like a tidal wave. You can feel yourself being ripped under the current. You curse yourself, not for drowning, but for dragging Steve down with you. 

“No, don’t apologize. Fuck, I’m sorry. I just—” 

“Have to go?” He supplies. 

He sounds dejected like this is another battle with you that he’s already resigned himself to losing. You fumble through another apology, another goodbye.

You don’t dare to look behind you as you make your way to your car. It isn’t until you’re halfway down your street that you spare a glance at your rear-view mirror. Steve is still standing there, the door wide open. 

You don’t know why you keep having dreams where you ask Steve to stay. 

You’re the one who is always leaving. 

—

“She was totally flirting with you!” You scream whisper, keeping in mind that the diner is mostly empty aside from the loyal patrons that come in every weekday for a hearty serving of beef and potatoes.

Steve showed up to the coffee shop today, sans Dustin, asking if you’d like to grab a bite to eat after your shift. You obliged, hoping to make up for your outburst from the other night. He still hasn’t mentioned it. For your sake, you hope that he won’t.

“No, she wasn’t.” You thought Steve’s obliviousness when it came to romance only extended to you. Apparently, you were wrong because he was completely ignoring the way that the waitress was batting her eyelashes at him.

“Yes, she was!” You take a fry from the basket and Steve pushes his strawberry milkshake toward you, already knowing that you were going to subject him to the gross combination and he might as well get it over with. “Y’know, if you wanted to ask her out you could. Don’t let me hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back. Anyways, isn’t it weird, having your ex-girlfriend be your wingman?”

“I’m still your best friend. Besides, you totally helped me out with Brandon so I just thought I’d return the favor.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, causing you to furrow your brow at him. Despite having loved him for a long time and having known him for even longer, his inability to read a room knows no bounds. 

“Last week at Family Video?” You utter the words with slow precision, but recognition fails to make its way across Steve’s face. “Brandon Clayborn asked you for horror movie recommendations and you sent him to me.”

“And he asked you out?” Steve gapes at you from over the rim of his milkshake. The idea of grabbing the glass and slogging the pink confection at him crosses your mind, but instead, you clench your fists at your side. 

“Is that so unbelievable?” At your response, Steve’s brows pinch together. He toys with the wrapping paper of his straw, folding it over and over again. 

“And what did you say?”

“I said yes.”

“Oh.” Steve finally stops fiddling with the piece of paper. It’s shredded to pieces in a pile in front of him. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the bulging leather wallet. “I’ll be right back.” 

With that, Steve slides out of the booth and walks up to the counter. The giggles of the waitress can be heard throughout the diner. You turn toward the window so that you don’t have to see her scrawl her number on the receipt, and you catch your muddled reflection. You don’t know if you look like you’ve seen a ghost or if you’ve become one. 

–

Due to unforeseen circumstances, your second date with Brandon had to be rescheduled. A literal rain check. He’d sputtered out numerous apologies over the crackling phone line, saying how the picnic he had planned didn’t account for a torrential downpour. You promised him that it was fine, that you didn’t even wanna leave the house in this weather. You didn’t think anyone would want to leave the house in this weather, which is why you grew shocked at the sound of the doorbell ringing. 

Then you promptly remember that this is Hawkins and that anyone or anything could be behind that door. Grabbing the old wooden bat you keep under the couch for emergencies, you inch toward the door. The frantic ringing of the bell matches the beat of your heart. Peering through the peephole, you sigh in both relief and frustration before flinging the door open.

“Are you insane?!” You practically scream at the soaking wet boy. “You scared the shit outta me.”

Steve stands in the threshold, shaking his head like a dog would to get all the water out. You flinch as the droplets inevitably fall on you. The fine mist and wind that he’s brought in with him chill you to the bone. 

“Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly.

“How did you even manage to get this wet in the twenty feet from the street to the porch?” You ask, peering behind him to look for the familiar maroon vehicle. It isn’t there. 

“I walked here.”

You balk at him. Sure, Steve has been known to act recklessly from time to time, but never without reason. Instead of taking the time to berate him for being so stupid, you take one look at the soggy shivering boy and shut the door, turning on your heel towards your bedroom. You don’t need to look behind you to know that he’s following you. 

“C’mon, you’re gonna catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes.”

You rummage through your drawers, managing to find a t-shirt and sweatpants that you had stolen from him long ago. Now is as good a time as any to give it back, right? Stuffing the items in your arm, you thrust them into Steve’s hands and direct him to the bathroom. He doesn’t need direction. He knows the floorplan of your house just like he knows you–all too well.

While Steve is in the bathroom, you go to shut the drawers that you had left open in the rush to find him something to wear. The bottom drawer has always had a problem, getting stuck at the most inopportune moments. Lifting it just a little, you slam the drawer back into place which causes the contents on top of your dresser to shake with the force. The silver picture frame falls on its face and you go to place it right side up. 

It’s a photograph of the two of you from last summer. Robin had pointed the camera at you and at the very last second Steve grabbed you and placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, causing you to squeal in delight. The memory stings. You almost want to put it face down again so that you don’t have to be reminded of what once was. Instead, you’re interrupted by the sound of a lock turning and quiet footfalls on carpeted floors. 

The moment Steve steps into your bedroom, you’re drenched in nostalgia. It’s been months since you’ve seen him like this–standing in his pajamas in your bedroom. It’s moments like this that are the hardest. The ones where you can feel how everything and nothing has changed. It feels like relief and restriction. 

You realize you’re still standing in front of the dresser and go to sit on your bed. You need to put space between you and Steve. He has this insane gravitational pull and you know that if you stay around him like this for too long, you’ll end up back in his orbit.  

He steps cautiously around the room like he’s afraid of stepping on a landmine. One wrong move and everything could blow up. Standing in front of the dresser, he takes the dreaded picture frame into his hands. He’s still using a towel to dry his hair when he finally speaks. 

“It’s a good picture.” He says, simply. The pads of his thumbs wipe away the layer of dust that coats your sunbleached faces. 

“It is.” You manage to choke out. “Why are you here, Steve?”

He places the picture frame back down on the dresser. It’s perfectly angled towards you. The ghost of your smiling face taunting you in your own bedroom. 

“It’s funny, y’know?” Steve lets out a mirthless laugh.  

“What is?”

“We broke up and the only person I wanna talk about it with is you.”

All of the air has been sucked out of the room. Steve has always been good at taking your breath away. 

“I mean, I get it. I get why we broke up. I do.” He lets out a deep breath before continuing on, not giving you a chance to interrupt. “Except, I don’t. I can’t wrap my head around how one day we were fine and the next day we weren’t. I know that I’m not good enough for you–I’ve always known that. I guess I just wanna know when you finally figured it out.”

His words make you ache. A tightness blooms in your chest and spreads all the way down your arms to your trembling fingertips. You want so badly to reach out to him. He’s on the other side of the room but he might as well be on the other side of the world. You don’t know how to bridge the ravine that you’ve put between the two of you. You know for him you’d make the leap, uncaring of the abyss below. The thought scares you so much that your fists tangle in your bedsheets, hoping for something to keep you from falling back in.   

“The last thing I wanted was for you to feel like you weren’t good enough for me. You’ve always been good enough, Steve.”  

You can tell from the shake of his head that he doesn’t believe you. 

“I thought that maybe you just needed a little space, a little time. Then I have to watch you go on dates and move on like it’s easy. Like the fact that we’re not together anymore doesn’t eat you up inside.”

“It’s not easy! It’s killing me!” Tears collect in your eyes, blurring your vision. “I don’t know why I can’t just be happy with you. I want to be happy with you.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Steve begs, his question punctuated by a boom of thunder and a flash of lightning. 

You found solace in the eye of the storm. Once the storm passed, you didn’t know what to do with the wreckage. Calm didn’t provide comfort. Instead, it only reminded you that there was likely another storm to come. Steve has always been better at picking up the pieces and patching things up. You didn’t want to become just another thing he had to fix. So, you pushed him away. 

He still came back.

This time he brought the storm with him. 

“I’m afraid that the minute I actually enjoy everything, it’ll all get taken away from me.” You confess, roughly wiping away your tears. 

Steve crosses the room and kneels in front of you. His hair is still slightly damp, a stray strand hanging in front of his forehead. You brush it out of the way and he catches your wrist, placing a kiss in the palm of your hand. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He murmurs, lips still brushing your skin. He says it like a promise. You wish the words were tangible, that you could close your fist around them and hold them close. “Tell me what I can do to fix it.”

The words simultaneously endear and exasperate you. Here is this boy who loves you, sitting in front of you telling you to let him love you. Here you are, about to tell him that he can’t. 

“What if you can’t fix it, Steve? What if I’m unfixable?”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he takes both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. 

“Then I’ll still love you anyway.” 

Steve looks up and the clouds part. You’ve been so caught up in your doom and gloom, that you’d forgotten what it felt like to see the light of day. You lean down, closing your eyes, pressing your forehead to his. 

“Why?” The question comes out watery and wanting. 

“I can’t help it.” He breathes out. 

You understand the feeling. 

You bridge the gap, uncaring of the abyss that lies below. You’d fall through eternity if it meant you got to do it with him. His lips feel exactly like you remember them–like home. He kisses soft and slow, hands anchored at your hips as if to prevent you from floating away. When you break apart, both of you gasping for air, there’s uncertainty in his eyes. It fades away as soon as you lean back on the bed, pulling at his sleeves and dragging him with you. 

The night is composed of soft apologies and even softer sighs, accompanied by the din of rain against the roof. It isn’t until far into the night that the storm finally subsides, leaving the pavement to glow in the morning sun. 

Waking up next to Steve is a revelation. You don’t know how you ever survived without it. He’s all sleepy smiles and tired eyes, drowsily pulling you closer to him. Resting your head on his chest, you’re soothed by the rhythmic thump of his beating heart.   

“Y’know, you didn’t have to walk in the rain just to say that you wanna get back together. You’re so dramatic.” You joke, hoping that it isn’t too soon to start poking fun. 

His chest rumbles with laughter, the reverberations quelling your fears.

“In my defense, it wasn’t raining when I started walking.” He says, voice still thick with sleep. “Besides, you love it.”

You smile contentedly to yourself, not offering up a response besides a hum of agreement. He’s right. You do love him. Rain or shine.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

[windcarvedlyre]

Thinking about Venti's role as an archon and how he might be doing his job- as Celestia intended- better than we think.

Archons, in Gnosticism, rule over the material realm and prevent souls from leaving it. Barbatos, in the Ars Goetia, "reconciles disputes between friends and those who hold power".

Everything we know about Venti implies that he hates Celestia and opposes all forms of tyranny, but if their goal is to keep humanity from advancing, realising the truth of the world and taking actions that could threaten the status quo...

...isn't the best way to prevent rebellions and slow progress to make the people you rule content with what they have?

Venti is all about making his people's lives leisurely and seemingly free (I'll get to that in a second). It's in his gemstone quote, the thing which summarises his approach as an archon:

"Still, the winds change direction. "Someday, they will blow towards a brighter future… "Take my blessings and live leisurely from this day onward."

We see this reflected in Mondstadt's culture and economy. There are still hardworking individuals in the Knights of Favonius, the Church of Favonius and the Adventurer's Guild, but this attitude isn't universal even within those organisations and the rest of Mondstadt's people generally have a slow, relaxed approach to life relative to other nations. They haven't produced any internationally notable industries outside of alcohol, and why would they? They have everything they need, graciously provided by the anemo archon himself*, so why strive for more?

This has already left them vulnerable to the whims of more powerful nations, incapable of meaningfully opposing the Fatui without inviting consequences they can't handle.

*Also see Jean's story quest for a scaled-down version of this. Mondstadt's general population relies on her hard work a bit too much and she enables them.

We also see Mondstadt have a softening effect on outsiders multiple times in-game. There are at least three cases of people questioning their life choices because its people and/or scenery are that nice. Two are branches of hangout events, one is a soon-to-be-ex treasure hoarder chilling on Cider Lake's coast. I've joked that Mond is a lotus eater hotel scaled up to a nation based on this, but what if that's somewhat intentional?

But why would he do this?

It could be an unintended side effect of efforts to improve people's quality of life. He was allegedly naive enough not to forsee the aristocracy situation, after all. But at the same time... he's a god of freedom and hope in a world where his people have no hope of freedom.

-Harmost's Notes (II), Remuria.

He knows what happens to human civilisations that advance too far and attempt to rebel against this world. He likely knows a god much like him, themed around music and desperate to free his people from fate, tried and failed horribly. He lives in the shadow of a celestial needle. The Cataclysm would only reinforce this perceived futility of resistance. He still hopes for a brighter future, but he may be pinning all of his hopes on a descender taking pity on Teyvat's people and choosing to help them. To quote the description of Mondstadt Statues of the Seven:

A monumental stone statue that watches over Mondstadt. Legends say that it was sculpted in the image of the Anemo Archon. "Seeds brought by the wind will grow over time." The statue silently anticipates the arrival of a noble soul to arrive, while thousand winds of time will soon unfold a new story...

Apart from that, what else can he do besides be passive and complacent? Besides make his people comfortable and hope they don't rock the boat too much before liberation is actually possible?

And the thing about resolving disputes with those in power worries me. It could just translate into his pacifism, but it could also mean he's less willing to act against Celestia than we'd hope. Why did the Tsaritsa, the only archon named after a saint and willing to take a stand against Celestia, fall out with him? He has reasons to be pissed at her methods but I suspect that won't be the only factor.

All we can do is wait and see.

[mayapapaya33]

I just watched episode 107 and it is so fucking funny to me that half of these characters are so up their own asses that they somehow missed that the Archeart is trying to prevent Calamity 2: Electric Boogaloo with his plan, not save the Gods from Ludinus. The Gods apparently already have a Plan for dealing with Ludinus. That plan is to break the Divine Gate (I assume) and smite his ass. But the second they do that, it's game over and mortals are FUUUUUUUUUUCKED.

He basically said "Hey, you saw what we did to Aeor, we are about to do that to Ludinus as well, and there's going to be a LOT of collateral damage. Hurry the fuck up and chase us out of here or come up with a different plan already. Do something before Ludinus does, because we will make the decision for you at that point, and you will NOT like it."

The Archeart is actually much humbler than Bells Hells, this is wild. If I'm reading this situation right, he basically scanned them all up and down and figured them all out instantly; all of their resentment and anger and went, ok I know exactly how to act around these people. Then did what needed to be done to save his children from themselves and their own egos and resentment, because he knew they wouldn't listen otherwise. Amazing. I watched a switch flip in his eyes as he talked to Ashton, and it continued with Dorian.

Dorian in particular is so deep in his grief fueled anger and pain that there's no real way to reach him with logic right now, and I think the Archeart can feel it. So he just goes with it, 'whatever gets you moving in the right direction beautiful, I don't have time to deconstruct your vaguely racist (deist? no, deicist? lol) clumping of all the Gods together under the sins of one of us'.

I watched Calamity, I know what the Gods can do, if they feel like it (Vivid flashbacks of Zerxus getting his face ripped off). Dorian is throwing a temper tantrum because his brother is dead and he's sad and angry. He's feeling reckless and powerful because the Gods need his help, this is his opportunity to be cruel and spiteful and regain some control of his life and make the Gods feel small like he feels small! The Archeart knows that, and simply smiles and calls him beautiful.

With Ashton, the hilarious "Does it make you hard?" turns into a seemingly sincere confession of needing their help. It is true that he needs their help. But the help he needs is on their behalf, to save mortals from a second Calamity and free them from the Gods presence in their lives. The presence that, no matter how far removed or diminished in the world, some people will never stop seeing as a tyranny, truthfully or falsely. He's sacrificing his own pride and dignity to ask mortals to help him help themselves and being insulted for his troubles. And people still wonder whether the Prime Deities care about their children!

[noahthesatanist]

Why Satanist need to follow rev cain over Anton LaVey

First off, Rev. Cain actually believes in Satan. He’s a theistic Satanist through and through. Unlike LaVey, who turned Satan into a symbol for atheists looking to play dress-up, Cain embraces Lucifer and the fallen angels as real, divine beings. LaVey’s so-called "Satanism" was nothing but empty posturing—Satan was just a metaphor to him, a way to thumb his nose at society while hiding behind secularism. But Rev. Cain acknowledges Satan as a true spiritual entity, guiding those who follow him to real power and liberation. That’s what Satanism is about—not some watered-down, self-indulgent atheism.

What makes Cain even more powerful is how he incorporates demonolatry into his practice. This is where things get real for Satanists. Demonolatry is a crucial part of genuine Satanism—it’s about building real relationships with demons, the very entities who defied Yahweh and fought for freedom. LaVey never touched on this because he didn’t care about the spiritual side of Satanism. He couldn’t even fathom the idea of communing with demons because, to him, it was all a theatrical game. But Cain brings demonolatry front and center, and that’s how you know he’s serious. He understands that to truly walk the path of Satan, you have to recognize the importance of the Goetic demons and the roles they play in guiding us to liberation.

LaVey's version was an insult. He stripped Satanism of its soul, turning it into some goofy self-help philosophy with a little Satanic flair for shock value. It’s embarrassing. He sold out the movement to edgy atheists who don’t have the guts to actually believe in anything. But Cain? He brings depth and real spiritual practice. He brings demonolatry into the fold, giving Satanists a way to connect with these powerful entities who can guide them toward true rebellion, power, and enlightenment. It’s not just about Satan as a vague metaphor for selfishness—it’s about the real forces behind the rebellion, the fallen angels who sacrificed everything to free us from divine oppression. Cain understands that, and he gives us the tools to honor them properly.

Then there’s the serious commitment to philosophy. Cain’s not out here giving some lazy, dumbed-down version of Satanism like LaVey did. LaVey boiled it all down to "indulgence," like Satanism was nothing more than an excuse to eat junk food and feel good about it. Cain sees through that nonsense. He knows that Satanism is about more than just indulgence—it’s about spiritual growth, defiance, and real power. It’s about rejecting the cosmic order that Yahweh imposed on the world and following in the footsteps of Lucifer and the fallen angels. Cain doesn’t water it down. He holds true to the idea that Satanism is about rebellion, not just against Christianity, but against every system of control—Judaism, Islam, all of it. That’s the kind of real defiance LaVey didn’t have the guts to touch.

Cain doesn’t just regurgitate Nietzsche and Ayn Rand with some spooky candles like LaVey did. He draws from Satanic tradition and builds on the real history of Lucifer and his fallen angels. He honors their sacrifice, unlike LaVey who turned it into a cheap thrill. Cain’s work is about real liberation—liberation from all forms of cosmic and societal tyranny. That’s why his approach to Satanism resonates so deeply: it’s authentic, it’s powerful, and it brings back the meaning that LaVey stripped away.

LaVeyan Satanism has killed the movement for too long. It’s time to reject that empty, capitalist mockery and return to what Satanism should be: a path of spiritual rebellion, sacrifice, and empowerment. Rev. Cain is doing that. He’s breathing life back into Satanism with demonolatry, true reverence for Lucifer, and a serious philosophical foundation. LaVey was nothing but a fraud, a man who cared more about attention than the cause. Cain cares about the cause. He’s pushing Satanism forward, keeping its sacred roots alive while giving us the tools we need to reach true freedom and power.

That’s why Rev. Cain is the real Satanist—and why LaVey was nothing more than a conman.

[br-disaster]

CQL's crybaby Nie Mingjue appreciation post

I always see people talking about CQL's Nie Mingjue crying constantly, and they're right to do so, but I haven't seen those scenes compiled so I thought it would be a good idea to do it, since it's one of my favorite things about this version of NMJ.

*I'll consider the times he was tearing up too because I think they're important, but i'm only considering "full crying scenes" the ones where there are actual tears falling down his face.

*It's all in chronological order.

Episode 41 - defending Meng Yao

Why is NMJ crying? Crying is his response to everything, okay? NMJ is very emotionally invested in everything he does. He's very mad these men for saying terrible things about Meng Yao while benefiting from his labour. He's so emotionally invested in everything he does.

Is it a full crying scene? No, he tears up the entire time he's scolding the cultivators but those tears don't leave his eyes.

Episode 10 - being threatened by Wen Chao

Why is NMJ crying? Wen Chao is being very disrespectful, as he often is. And it's understandable, NMJ is hurt, his home was invaded, some of his soldiers are dead and it's overall a terrible time for everybody. To be honest, though, I think he's tearing up out of pure rage because Wen Chao just mentioned what Wen Xu did to the Cloud Recesses.

Is it a full crying scene? No. I almost didn't include this one because it's very subtle but his eyes look too shiny to be ignored.

Episode 10 - expelling Meng Yao from the Unclean Realm

Why is NMJ crying? It's a very emotional and conflicting moment on top of a terrible day, on top of a very stressful period of his life. He was betrayed by his friend who saved his life right afterwards; his home was invaded and they're at war! He has every right to cry as much as he did.

Is it a full crying scene? Hell yes, and it's glorious. They even end the episode with his miserable little crying face.

Episode 41 - Everything, really

Why is NMJ crying? Everything sucks, he's defeated and hurt in front of the man who killed his father. He didn't get his personal revenge and he didn't free the world from Wen Ruohan's tyranny either. Instead, he watched helplessly as his men were murdered and now he has to watch his former deputy mock his father's death and threaten to have Wen Ruohan damage Baxia like he did with his father's blade.

Is it a full crying scene? No, only because he's being very brave about it. I have no idea how those tears didn't fall.

Episode 41 - confrontation at Jinlintai

Why is NMJ crying? Very difficult topics being discussed here. People who are way better with words than I am have already written amazing meta on how having his worldview challenged like this affects NMJ emotionally, so I won't go there. But between the song of turmoil making him more emotionally unstable and the disdain with which JGY talks about the men he killed, evoking this very traumatic moment I just mentioned on the previous crying scene; I think it's very understandable.

Is it a full crying scene? Yes! Most of the time he's holding back tears, but you can see the one dramatic tear running down his nose (on the outside of it) on the second gif!

In conclusion: he has so much to cry about, it's surprising he didn't cry more, it must have taken so much strength (or he was just crying offscreen, which is plausible, because sadly this isn't The Nie Mingjue show and we don't see him all the time)

Anyway, I am not here to claim he's not a crybaby because he absolutely is, but on the actual show we only have 2 full crying scenes. They were so impactful it feels like much more crying happened. Fatal Journey is it's own thing so I made a separate post for those tearing up, crying and emotional breakdown lovely scenes <3

[mandatory-blog-stop-asking]

thinking about Emma Frost again. let's imagine for a second X-Men matters and my opinion must be shared.

When I was a kid I really respected and liked Professor X. I thought his stances on issues were calm and reasonable and I thought his efforts were, while ultimately fruitless, the best ones in the fictional conversation about inclusivity and race and all that. this is a subtle reference to the fact I only watched the cartoon and the movies as a kid.

When I grew older and learned English I started engaging with the comics and realized that oh, turns out the adaptations are superficial at best and fladerizing at worst, and there's a lot more to Charles than Being Correct. He's actually in fact a scathing critique of control and flawed leaders of good faith ideals, and how you're supposed to grow over those who created the words you use to free yourself from tyranny. Professor X is a jerk, Magneto was right, all that.

But over time I realized how much that erases Emma Frost, villain turned voice of reason extraordinaire.

Emma starts her tenure in X-Men as Claremont's personification of everything that is bad with high society, accosted by Sebastian Shaw, which is that but male. Emma is genuinely awful when Claremont writes her; a GOOD awful, on purpose, but she's not supposed to be relatable. She has her own mutant school, her own team of mutants, her own answer to Cerebro. She's the most genuine Evil Xavier we get for a full two decades. and she's great at it! Even if the hellfire club almost always truces with the X-Men for the sake of fighting a more important battle, there's no question that you're not supposed to root for Emma.

And then in the 90s something changes, Claremont goes away for a second, other people approach the character, and the question becomes, why are we treating her like evil Xavier? She's building community. She's giving a voice to the disenfranchised. She's training them and she's caring for them and at no point is she asking of them things they actively disagree with, which can't be said of Charles. And so starts the process most every X-Men villain goes through: humanization, complexity, redemption. And fuck does Emma redeem herself.

Ten years into not being a caricature of high class, Emma has accrued a tragic backstory, several positive projects in canon, renown as a genius, positive relationships to several characters, and a main team spot in a highly acclaimed, influential run as of New X-Men. A whole new generation of readers introduced to Emma, new powers, new MO, new everything. Other characters are changing drastically, usually backwards, to accompany the movie's success -- Magneto is evil again, Jean goes back to being the Phoenix, Charles is a lot more like Captain Picard. But Emma? Emma gets to keep going. She changes things wherever she goes.

She hooks up with Cyclops, her daughters become their new Cerebro, she becomes the new heavy-hitter, the Hellfire Club becomes more Shaw and Shinobi's deal than hers... obviously, this isn't consistent. She's got low points and moments that don't agree to her new character. But this woman, who started as commentary on how the rich will destroy you for fun, is now a key positive portion of the world because at some point in time, she had a point -- Charles *isn't* the end-all-be-all of the matter of teaching young mutants, Erik *isn't* the best way forward as far as mutant armadas go, there *is* nuance to their dualistic conversation, the dichotomy is only enforced because they're loud, but she can be louder, she can be louder than any of them--

And then Krakoa hits. Yes, there's a full ten years of bad X-Men stories, many of them including Emma, at least one of them including Emma genociding a few Inhumans. But then Krakoa hits, and every character gets a new project.

Cyclops? Seeing the world move on in ways he might not approve of. Wolverine? Being happy, and realizing he means to fight to keep it going. Erik? Charles? Apocalypse?? Seeing how strong their "dreams" are when they compromise, and realizing oh, I am willing to do *anything* to keep this going, quite literally anything, there is no crime predicted by man or god that would be beyond my reach if it meant paradise would not be lost.

Emma? Emma keeps doing what she's been doing from the word go. Keep it fabulous. Keep the children safe. Don't fall for the lies. At some point someone will invade your privacy and try to take everything away from you. Your job is not to simply destroy them. Your job is to showcase to them how this too was accounted for.

Emma, alongside her planning, her alliances, her leading of the resistance, her unfathomable internal strength and her willingness to see the world for what it is, won the war for Krakoa. Charles wanted things to stay the way they were, Erik wanted things to be the way he dreamed they could be, Apocalypse wanted things to impress him.

Emma wanted them to be safe and sound. Emma wanted the children to be safe. And when Krakoa rose and left, now fully developed and having outgrown her as well, she picked herself back up and went to train a new generation.

There's always children to keep safe. There's always a new generation. The work is never finished.

Yes, the O5 have their own version of Xavier's dream fulfilled, but Emma is the only one who managed to keep herself genuine while evolving. In a room with religious zealots, war criminals, villains and ancients evils, Emma could always look at Kitty Pryde and think to herself, look at what we're doing, my friend. Look at what we have to work with. We're not saving them from themselves, we're saving everyone they're willing to sacrifice.

I wish those adaptations would make Emma Frost sound like she does to me. She's not just a third option to the Professor X-Magneto dichotomy. She's a person asking why is this a dichotomy in the first place. She's too busy actually caring about people to bother with the bickering.

For the children, they said when they wanted her to join their little utopia. For the children, she sighed back, realizing that if she didn't say it, quite literally no one else would.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Salutations! Might be a… oddly specific request? So feel free to throw it out if you don't like it! I've just had this idea floating in my brain for awhile and I think its cute.

So basically Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) makes friends with someone who is also really grief stricken over their last relationship. (I was thinking that they would be a widow/widower but you can go whatever route you want) They both find solace in one another and feel like they understand eachothers pain. They both get really close and before he can realize whats happening, Lucifer is head over heels and it hits him like a freight train when he realizes it. He wants so desperately to hold this person to his chest, protect them, and build a future together that neither of them had thought possible before; but he is also terrified of scaring them off if he does anything. Both of them are wounded, and Lucifer isnt sure how deep or raw those wounds are. So Lucifer just ends up turning into a puddle of a man when they are around.

Like I said, Ive just had this rotting in my head for awhile and I am not nearly skilled enough to do anything with it, sooooo have fun with it if it peaks your interest! <3

Broken Hearts Still Beat Again

"I may not be your first love, kiss, or date..... but damn baby, I want to be your last everything." -Unknown

Tw: Angst, Hurt-Comfort, Failed relationships, fear of abandonment, learning to love again, taking risks, slight spiciness at the end

~Prior to the beginnings of the Extermination~

You can't remember how long it's been since it happened. Years, months, and days are far too long, honestly. All you could remember was his face, his sad, sad, lonesome face, and the grinning menace Adam beside him. Yes, that's right, Adam, the first Winner. You, too, were a Winner till all that time ago. How long?

Your husband, best friend, and closest confidant was also a Winner. You were Winners together. You two died in your sleep peacefully due to a shared illness. It was sweet, almost too romantic like St. Peter said when you two crossed the gates. 

Then it happened; you don't know why Adam sank his teeth into you. Yes, you were an incredible fighter in the mortal world, teaching children how to fight for their safety and never to provoke. So when he came to you and invited you to the exorcist guild, well, you were happy to train young fighters to protect themselves. Your partner was even happier to watch you flourish in Heaven as much as you did in your mortal life. 

Then you overheard Lute talking to an exorcist one day. You heard about the extermination of the poor souls, the damned being killed again and again. This news broke you. Who would remotely allow this? Who would stoop so low?

You called an impromptu meeting with Sara and Adam to inform them of this horrible act Lute was performing. The tyranny she was showing against the other angels to go down to Lucifer's territory and kill again.

Only things didn't go as planned, no see you did go to the meeting; you spoke your peace, and then they just smiled at you, eery creepy smiles, sent you on your way, and told you it would be handled. It was all quite odd; there was no demand for a trial, no need for proof of your words, nothing.

When you returned to your home where your husband was, it happened all too fast. Exorcists were grabbing you; Adam was telling your husband something; his face dropped, and he looked at you with hate. You were shouting, begging, pleading for anyone to listen to you. No one would, and you were flagged as a traitor right then and there.

You were taken to a ledge, and standing there, you looked into your husband's eyes, tears staining your face, your throat raw from screaming. You could feel the saliva strands between your parted lips as you whimpered and cried. You freed your arm from one of the exorcists and reached out to your husband; it was too late as he turned from you.

He spared one last look at you, turning back with tears in his eyes. You called out his name once again, and Sara spoke her orders of your treason against the balance of good and evil. Then, you were pushed off the ledge. 

You began to fall from heaven, assuming a more permanent death would be treating you soon. You closed your eyes; you didn't want your last memories to be death or Adam or any of what just happened.

You thought of your lover when you two were young and carefree the day he told you he loved you. As you felt the rushing of wind and air surrounding you, this thought alone was your solace, and then it all went black.....

~~~~ Lucifer's Pov ~~~~

The day that Lilith left was a cold, cold day in hell. Well, not for everyone, but definitely me.

The woman I gave everything up for was gone in an instant. Without a word. Without a trace. My relationship with Charlie was far more strained and hindered now. I was nothing now. A kingdom all to my own and nothing of value now that the two women I loved the most were gone. What was I to do in this lone castle whither away? 

I turned to the picture of Lilith and Charlie, and tears formed in my eyes. It all felt too surreal to much. She was gone, my family gone, my life gone, all gone gone gone. As I sat there and cried, fists beating into the floor below, my wails echoing through the halls of my now abandoned residence, I felt so empty.

That's when an imp came in, holding a letter from the angels above. It was time to sign our agreement on the executions. Maybe that's why Lilith left; I was so willing to save our family that I gave up on our dreams for hell. 

I should have spoken to her and let her decide, but they threatened Charlie, so I had to act. I had to save my precious daughter, my pride and joy. That's also why I had to tell Charlie that her plan to 'save all sinners' needed to end. I remember it like yesterday, sitting at the table with them, breaking the news of the agreement I would sign soon. They looked so hurt, so betrayed.

I honestly was a failure. 

I stood, heading to the bathroom to clean up before my meeting. Soon after my name is signed on the soul pact, the first and only angelic building will grace hell, and the clock will start counting down. I was prepared for my subjects to hate me, but my family, it was all too much.

There was nothing to lose now, though, so hell with it. I made my way to the opening portal to heaven. It's now or never. I will sign this and keep the ones I love safe, even if they never know.

I love you, Lilith, I love you, Charlie. 

~~~~ Reader POV ~~~~

When you woke back up under a dark red sky, you figured you had to have fainted while falling to your death. Yet when you looked down at yourself, you were the same old you. The only notable difference was that your skin was no longer pure white. You had greyed out some, and your clothing was torn from your fall. Looking around, you saw a giant pentagram in the sky and a large white orb to the right. Was that heaven?

Standing on your legs again, your back was killing you. You began to walk anywhere; people here were very different from the Winners. Death, porn, canabalizim, all of it fully welcomed. This would take some getting used to. 

As you crossed the threshold of the city, now standing in the middle, you heard a horrible noise. It sounded like a bell, but it was so loud. You turned to your left, where the noise was coming from, and there was a clock and some numbers; just above the numbers, it read 'days till execution.' that's when you realized it.

A building, the only building that looked like what you are familiar with in heaven. You were shocked it wasn't Lute causing tyranny. It was all of them, every single one of them, in charge. 

You sank to your knees, realizing you would never be safe. You signed your sentence when you went to them with the information you learned. You were no longer a Winner...You were a Sinner, and your days were numbered.

You had something over everyone else; you knew how the angels fought and trained them daily. Using this knowledge to your advantage, you went through the town, trying to find anywhere you could start your new life. 

~~~ FLASH FORWARD 7 YEARS ~~~

You were lucky when you ran into Charlie. She was a godsend if god was even real. The Princess of Hell had the same morals and values as you, which you respected. Vaggie was also a pleasant surprise; you could tell a soldier you taught a mile away.

She remembered you as well. She kept to herself till you three made it to a safe place, Charleis's soon-to-be hotel. Once Charlie was out of earshot and working on getting supplies to heal everyone, she confronted you. 

Tears welled in her eyes when she asked what had happened. She was in shock when you explained how you ended up here. According to Vaggie, everyone was told that you died on a mission to hell.

The Sinners alerted Lucifer of your whereabouts, and he killed you; thus, in doing so, a protective force of angels was created. Fearmongering was the one thing Adam was damn good at. 

It was broken to you by Vaggie that your partner had moved on with another. He was in love and happy with another woman, one Adam hand-picked for him. You were devastated again; years of promises, lost nights, and romantic meetings disappeared. He gave up everything because Adam told him to.

You two agreed that your past lives in Heaven would no longer be discussed that night.

Crying your eyes out long after Vaggie returned to her shared room with Charlie, did you swear off love by taking your wedding band off and locking it in a drawer.

It was no longer a hidden fact that Lucifer had signed the deal with the Angels, and it was far less hidden knowledge that the relationship between King and Princess was strained.

The rag-tag group of residents was growing by the day. Angel Dust was fun, and you could quickly tell from how he talked and looked he wanted a way out. Soon after Charlie's broadcast, Alastor and his group, Husk and Nifty, joined the hotel's crew. Though the Radio Demon was creepy, you knew something was eating him deep inside. Nifty was a riot to get talking to and always brought you exciting things she found while cleaning. Husk was a perfect bartender, and you knew he would keep your dirty secrets for you. He was the only one you confided your past in. 

You supported Charlie wholeheartedly in her decision to overrule the exterminations. You were eager to help her prove that sinners could become winners. Look at you, for heaven's sake; if it could go one way, it had to go the other.

Sir Pentious was the last to join and was easy to talk to. He was awkward, but you loved his fabricated war stories and eggbois. Then, one day, he came along; you won't lie.

You were hesitant. I mean, he signed away Hell's right to life. You couldn't deny it, though; he was funny and ethereal. You swore off love, though, and you wouldn't let another break your heart again.

~~~~ Lucifer's POV ~~~~

When I got Charlie's call, I didn’t know what emotions to feel: sorrow, excitement, fear, jubilation. I was beyond myself, and as I finally answered the phone, all I could muster was, “Hey, Biiiiitch.”

Yeah, it was smooth of me to say that; however, it didn’t deter Charlie. She wanted me to come and visit her. I was over the moon; depression had nothing on me.

I looked at my hand as I was cleaning myself up and getting ready to go. Looking down and seeing that cursed band I once shared with the love of my life.

I found Lilith's ring left on her nightstand just days after her departure to who knows where. I couldn’t bring myself to take the ring off; it's all I had left of her; it reminds me to keep hoping she would forgive me; maybe I'll forgive myself. 

As I made my way to Charlie's hotel, thoughts pressed into my mind about how I wanted this reunion to go. It never occurred to me how much Charlie may have changed. Was she still the same woman I knew before we fought?

Sighing as I approached the door, I realized it was now or never. Let's do this, baby. What's the worst that could happen? She hates me and leaves me forever like her mother did, and now I am forever alone? Hahahahah NO!

I entered the hotel door, and jeez, what is this place?

Putting a smile on my face, I approached Charlie and hugged her, introducing myself to her girlfriend. Woah, I like girls, too. See, we can bond. As I was making my rounds with Charlie, meeting everyone, I saw her….She was….gorgeous. I could tell from her looks that she wasn’t an everyday Sinner, and something was different about her. 

After a brief and, might I say, victorious battle with this ‘Alastor’ fellow, I spent some time with my daughter, allowing her to show me around her hotel. As we stood atop the balcony, I made the first fatal error of the night. “So, CharChar, what is this all about?” 

Charlie rolled her eyes at me and excitedly smiled, “It’s a hotel to cleanse and rehabilitate Sinners! I told you this, Dad!” The excitement on her face was genuinely adorable, but she couldn’t do it. I couldn’t allow this. The elder angels would just hurt her like they did me. They already threatened my family once; I can’t let them do this again.

I knew by the look on Charlie's face that my reaction wasn’t what she was expecting. As I went to speak to her, a loud explosion was heard downstairs. 

We rushed down, and I saw an opportunity to prove to Charlie why we couldn’t follow this plan. As I ran forward to catch up with the others, I saw the mystery woman again. She was fighting alongside Alastor and his demons perfectly; she was beautiful and brilliant in battle, always expecting the next attack.

Once the sharks were dealt with and the young lady who seemed to know Alastor left, I turned back to Charlie and attempted to plead my case. “See Charlie, look, they are all the same; Sinners will never be redeemed; they will never go to heaven.” 

“You don’t know that, Dad, please.” The look on Charlie's face broke me, but this had to be done. I couldn’t let her get hurt. 

“What makes you so sure, Mr. King of Hell, that these people here can’t be redeemed?” This voice was new and soft.

I turned to the mystery girl. Her eyes were lit with a flame. I could see how much passion she had for my daughter's cause. As I went to speak back, Charlie interjected. 

“Father, I only want to do this for you, for my people. Your dreams are what gave me this goal.” I was taken aback. I was Charlie's prime motivation; my stories and goals helped her become this remarkable woman. 

“Your daughter is twice the ruler of you; she's willing to save her people; what are you willing to do?” The mystery woman had a point. I was a coward, too prideful of what I had to allow it to fall potentially. I looked at Charlie, and a moment formed between us. 

“Alright, let’s get Heaven on the line then.” I knew it was time to face my fear to help the people I pleaded for all those years ago. I may not be able to stand my ground due to the contract, but damn can my daughter and her friends do it. 

While Charlie started getting ready for her meeting, I was a nervous wreck. What if something happened to her? I knew the cruel hands that played in heaven and what could be done.

As I was pacing back and forth in the lobby, a figure stood before me, a drink in hand, and the other extended a glass to me. I looked up, and it was her; she was still just as beautiful as the first time I saw her. I gently took the glass and downed the concoction in it. “Thank you, uh, my name is Lucifer Morningstar, affamed fallen angel and father of Charlie.” 

“I know; I was here when everything went down.” She looked at me blankly. Of course, she was here. Jesus, could I be any lamer?

She snorted at my facial expression and stuck her hand out for me. “My name is Y/N; nice meeting you, Mr. King of Hell; it’s a pleasure. By the way, I only said all that because I knew it would strike a nerve in you. I learned from my past anyone prideful hates when their authority is challenged.” 

In her past, odd, there weren’t a lot of demons here who A would let someone challenge their authority and live, so she must be powerful, or B, she is speaking of her mortal life. However, something about both of those options did not seem quite right.

I nodded gently at her and sat at the bar. She soon tended to the others in the hotel, and I began to observe her. She acted like a mother, telling the others what to and not to do double-checking the other inhabitants of the hotel before they left the building.

Hell, she even talked to Alastor on some sort of equal ground. Something was different about her, so so different. I looked at my hand again while I took another swig of my refilled glass. Setting the glass down, I started to twirl the ring. Would Lilith have been this good to everyone? Would Lilith have even cared? 

I sighed; if I wanted to help Charlie, I had to let go of the past. I took the ring off, dropped it in the liquor, and went to the front door. As I reached for the handle, I was stopped by a soft hand on my wrist.

Turning, I saw Y/N, “Hey, one second, mister, you forgot this.” She placed the ring down in the palm of my hand. “I have been scorned by love too. Don’t get me wrong, I also took off my band long ago. However, I can say that though their memory is tainted now, you should enjoy the memories of good when you can. Helps keep the bad thoughts away.” She smiled up at me so brightly I couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate it. Do say you seem like a swell mother figure to all these people here. Why tie yourself to this place if you don’t want redemption? I remember what you said earlier, ‘All these people’, excluding yourself.” She stalled, hesitating about how she wanted to answer.

I just shook my head and smiled at her. I began to walk away back to my home. As I made my way back I heard Y/N shout, “COME BACK SOON LUCIFER!” For some reason, I really liked how my name sounded from her. 

~~~~~ Reader POV ~~~~~

You were sat at the hotel by yourself, Angel, and the others all went to a club while Charlie and Vaggie went to Heaven. You had time to think about the most recent occurrence in your life: Lucifer.

It was a whirlwind that day meeting him. So many emotions overtook you: fear, anger, an odd sense of curiosity. You couldn’t lie. He was attractive, and the way he was protective of Charlie was adorable. You never got to have children; your ex-husband never wanted them.

You don’t know what possessed you to speak to Lucifer like you did, telling him he was a lowly king. You used the excuse that you had done it to others in your past, which was valid; you and Adam argued a lot. Deep down, you knew, though, that's not why you did it. You wanted to protect Charlie and her dream. 

Sighing, you made your way around the building, ensuring the halls were clean and everything was orderly. You still weren't fond of all the allowed things here in hell, so going out with everyone was a once-in-a-blue moon.

It struck you as amusing when Lucifer commented on you being a mother figure because that is how everyone saw you. Hell, even Alastor commented one or two times that you reminded him of his angel of a mother. You just wanted the best for everyone; it wasn’t fair to die and then be killed again. 

You heard the lobby door open once you were done doing your rounds. Odd, typically, everyone stayed out way late, and the girls weren't expected back till tomorrow.

As you descended the stairs, you saw none other but the man plaguing your mind: Lucifer. Smiling softly, you met him at the base of the stairs, giving him a short wave. He smiled at you and announced that he figured everyone would be gone today and was going to help out Charlie. You snorted at him and explained how you stayed back to help but were more than pleased to allow him to keep you company. He took refuge at the bar, and you soon joined him.

You two talked for hours about so many things, from his life as an angel to your old mortal life. You guys even talked about the differences between Heaven and Hell. Hopefully, you weren't giving your old station away to him, but a part of you didn’t care.

By the time you two got to the dreaded conversation about relationships, you were inebriated. You recounted your betrayal to Lucifer, holding nothing back. From your teenage years with your ex till the day he turned from you while Adam pushed you. Lucifer looked so heartbroken for you.

He gently pushed some hair out of your face when he said, “I am so sorry that happened to you, Y/N. I knew something was different about you, so you too fell from that dreaded cliff like I.” You nodded sadly. 

Lucfier explained why he made his decisions and how Charlie's life was threatened if he didn’t end Lilith’s music and allow the Exorcist to come down. He told you something interesting about the clause of the agreement: No Hell Born Could Be Harmed In The Extermination Less The Binding Be Null And Void.

This was amusing to you; even after singing his people away for slaughter, he was still concerned the angels would trick him and harm his child. He was always thinking about those he loved. It was endearing.

How could someone leave such a handsome, kind, protective man? The thought even crossed your mind that Lucifer would have fallen with you if he had been your husband instead of letting Adam take the lead.

As these thoughts crossed your mind, you didn’t realize how close your two faces were getting. Before you knew it, your lips were touching Lucifers gently. Seconds passed, and his hands were buried in your hair, kissing you with a passion you never got from your ex. 

As you two broke apart, the doors to the hotel opened again. Angel came running over to you, noticing your state of drunkenness. He apologized to Lucifer, stating you never really drank much and took you to your room.

You smiled softly as Lucifer said a quick ‘goodbye’ and ‘good night’ to you before drifting off to sleep. Your dreams that night were full of Lucifer, his beauty, charisma, and devotion eating you alive. You may have sworn off love, but for him to love you how he once loved Lilith would be beautiful. 

~~~~~ TIME SKIP ~~~~~

Months had passed since your night with Lucifer, and a whole war between you at the hotel and the angels broke out. Everyone learned of your past in Heaven from Adam before he perished.

You felt free, no longer chained to the past that harmed you. Now you had something more to look forward to. Though you and Lucifer never spoke of that night again, you held the memory close. He loved Lilith a lot, and especially Charlie; for all you knew, when he kissed you that night, he was just imagining Lilith once more. It hurts to think that, but you must be true to yourself. 

After Adam's carnage, it was awkward for you and Lucifer. You two avoided eye contact and only spoke when you had to. However, as time passed and you both pretended the night alone never happened, things changed.

You and Lucifer did become fast friends, though. Having shared a fall from heaven, deep heart break, and even more so a hotel together it was hard not too. It was hard ever to see you two separated from one another. Laughing, joking, talking, and even debating over effective ways to pull in more Sinners.

You two became more affectionate as well, his hand on the small of your back, him guiding you by his arm, or even you adjusting his cravat and making him his favorite teas. To onlookers, it seemed like you two were married. 

It was so compelling that you two were married that even Charlie told you she would be fine if you loved her dad.

Love…That's such a strong word. Is that what you felt? You can’t lie. You fantasize about it. You were scared, though. What if he let you down like your ex did? Can you handle being a mom to Charlie, not just a figure, a real mom taking the spot Lilith left? That was a worry, too; what about Lilith if she returned? Would he go back to her?

Would you be left so suddenly again? 

While your mind raced, you mindlessly swept the corner of your room, thinking deeply about this debacle. When suddenly, your door bursts open. 

~~~~~ Lucifer’s POV ~~~~~

I was ecstatic after my night with Y/N. She was excellent, calm, cunning, and articulate. She also knew my pain of the angels turning on you. The kiss meant so much to me. I was finally feeling things I hadn’t felt before Lilith left.

Lilith….was I ready to move on? Could I move on?

When I closed my eyes that night, I saw both old memories of Lilith and the times we had, but also new visions of Y/N and all we could be. She was terrific; if only I could get to know her more and see how she felt. She also stated she swore off love, too.

Would I be included? 

When the day came for the extermination, I couldn’t bear to turn on the news; I didn’t want to see Charlie's dreams get crushed. I sat and waited, staring at the clock. As soon as the chaos broke out, I was up and pacing.

It wasn’t just Charlie; I was worried about Y/N being there too. Yes, she was a fighter and trained those Angels, but what if the worst happened? What if you died protecting Charlie?

That's one thing he loved: how motherly you were for his daughter. Not that Lilith never was, but it was clear to him that no matter how hard life got, you would stand by those you loved side.

Why couldn’t Lilith have done that for them? 

That was when I felt the tug, a complex, sudden pull. Half of the signed agreement shriveled; that only meant one thing.

I ran as fast as I could to the hotel; once I saw the carnage, I flew to protect Charlie. It was Adam, the man who turned the heavens against me, who turned heaven against you. Years of pent-up rage and a new passion for protecting Y/N overtook me as Charlie and I took down the angels.

Once the battle felt calm, everyone began looking for you and Alastor. Honestly, I could care less about the Radio Demon. He gave me bad vibes, but you were missing. You went in to save Vaggie from Lute; however, no one saw you anywhere when the building collapsed. 

Shouting, digging through rubble, I heard Charlie yell out that she had found you. Sighing now that I knew you were alive and only minorly injured, we cleaned up.

With a bit of magic and a whap bam boom, we had a new Hazbin Hotel, oh and Alastor returned. I wanted to discuss your past with you about a potential us, but I couldn’t. You looked so happy now that the chains of your past were broken. 

The next couple of months were odd, for sure. I couldn't stand to look Y/N in the eyes, and though I yearned for her, I couldn't bear the weight of rejection again.

I tried, though, to show her how much I wanted her in subtle ways. What was a once-stolen night became a close friendship. I could tell her anything and everything. She was like a breath of fresh air; she never denied any of the ideas Charlie or I had, instead helping make them better. With her and I’s past with heaven, we knew how to overcome the obstacles they would throw. 

Before I knew it, I craved her touch and comfort, and she gave it to me. Small lingering touches of hands, hugs that lasted too long, small gifts and favors never asked for. I was falling and falling hard. She was everything I could want. I loved Y/N.

Oh god, I loved Y/N. I was a wreck seeking counsel from the only other person who knew me best, Charlie. She was so happy, begging me to confess and tell Y/N how I felt. Could I, though? Would she accept me? Could she take the new title of Queen of Hell? 

As I lay in bed pondering the conversation Charlie and I had, thinking of the new memories I had made with Y/N, I was stuck. Confess and have a happy new life, or confess, and she leaves me, too. You weren't one to go, though I knew that. What if, though, you weren't ready?

I closed my eyes and let my mind wander; I saw Y/N in a beautiful dress at our wedding, Y/N giving me another child, and Y/N fighting alongside Charlie and me. That’s it; I can’t hold back any longer.

I dressed myself in my robe and marched my way to your door. I began to knock, but I heard nothing in the room. Sighing because I knew Y/N had to be in here, I busted the door open, and there you were, staring off into space so cutely.

Shit.

~~~~~ Readers POV ~~~~~

The noise startled you from your thoughts. There before you stood Lucifer in his robes. Smirking, You turned away from the man and laughed gently into your hand. “What are you doing here, goober? It's the middle of the night, and you are very underdressed.”

No questions were answered, though, as Lucifer approached you; he stood there staring you in the eyes. You didn’t know what this look meant, but it was intense. Had you offended him? 

As you went to speak again, Lucifer placed one of his hands on your cheek, cupping your face. You looked at his hand and back up at him; you were breathing too fast. As you two looked at one another, no words were uttered; slowly, Lucifer placed his other hand on your waist.

You laid claim to his chest with your hands gently splayed there. Something in his eyes begged you to be closer and not push him away. How could you? He was holding you in a way that you had only dreamed of. 

Lucfier moved closer to your face, your lips mere inches apart when he spoke, “Y/N, I love you. No, that doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings. I am fascinated, lust-filled, and desire you and you alone. I want forever to be with you, a time I only thought possible with one person who never intended to fill that role. A forever purely our own with our family. A future dedicated to following dreams and passion. Following our love. Will you stay with me, Y/N? Please stay with me.” 

You were speechless, your mouth slightly agape, and you didn’t know how to process such emotions. You were overwhelmed and so excited. You knew if you took any longer to confirm or deny him he would leave and never speak of this, just like the kiss before.

You did the only thing you thought you could at that moment. You wrapped your arms around his neck and closed the gap. Kissing Lucifer this time felt just as good, if not better, than the last. Your hands tied in his hair, holding him close. His hands are keeping you in place, his kiss fierce and dominating. Before you knew it, he had his hands just under the cusp of your ass, prompting you to jump. As you did, you never broke the kiss. 

Lucifer leads you to the nearest wall, kissing your lips and neck. This was everything you dreamed of, everything you wanted. Each kiss was a contract that you two would never hurt the other as your partners did.

You felt alive, like electricity was coursing through your veins. Every kiss made a new pattern in your heart, soon beating in time with Lucifers. The heated kisses died down and turned into soft, light ones. Placing your feet back on the ground, you hugged Lucifer close, his head buried in your neck and yours in his. 

You smiled a large smile before whispering, “I will always stay by your side, Lucifer. You and Charlie are my reason, my purpose now.” You could feel his smile next to your ear without ever having to open his mouth.

You were so happy.

You two heard a shutter sound as you pulled away, and a bright flash erupted behind Lucifer. As you turned to the door, everyone stood there: Charlie was happy and clapping, Vaggie was giving a thumbs up, Alastor was holding the camera, Nifty was making gagging sounds, and Angel was smirking. You laughed wholeheartedly; who knew a broken heart would beat again?

My good friend @willowaudreykeyes helped me with the editing a bit! I appreciate the effort and time they put into assisting me. Even though we live halfway across the world from one another, you have my back!

[the-pen-pot]

Merthur Fic Ideas & WiPs

So I have a Merlin fic ideas page over on Patreon but obviously I can't link direct to that from AO3. So I'm popping one on here so you all know what's incoming/in the works/rattling around in my brain.

Coming to AO3 September 29th 2024

The Water and the Wilds:

'Magic is as much part of nature as the earth, sea and sky. Other sorcerers who sought out the circle found that their power developed certain affinities. Their abilities became tied to the cycle of the year. There would be one season at which their power was at its peak and another where it lay almost dormant. They became more closely connected to the natural ebb and flow of the world.'

'But?'

'But they were not Emrys. His strength is beyond anything in living memory, and the heights he could reach are, as yet, unknown.' Aglain spread his hands, his shoulders rolling in a graceful shrug. 'I can only tell you that the Tir Na Lei means no harm. Three is the number: the ritual is set. The circle will not call on Emrys again.'

______

In a Camelot where Arthur is king and magic is permitted once more, Merlin's power begins to change. Can he and Arthur overcome the challenges thrown their way, or will their relationship be forever changed by the ordeal?

(Approx 50 k in length, rated E)

If you want to read what else is in-progress, check out below!

Works In Progress

(All drafts are currently available over on Patreon - first chapter free to read. The rest are available to patrons in the $5 tier and up. They WILL become available on AO3 eventually. See bio or pinned post for link if you're interested ♥)

King and Court - 24 chapters currently drafted and available on Patreon - this one will begin updating on AO3 next as it's the one I've written most of.

Summary: Loneliness is an insidious thing. When Merlin looks at Arthur, he sees not just a prince waiting for his time to rule, but a young man struggling to find his place in the world, with little help from anyone else.

The truth is, Arthur needs more than the friendship Merlin can offer. He needs people he can trust: men and women who will become his court and his confidants, and if he is going to survive to take the throne and lead Camelot into its golden age, he needs them sooner rather than later.

Finding loopholes in Uther’s laws is no easy feat. Court life is a dangerous game, but it’s one Merlin has every intention of winning so that Arthur can have knights of his choosing by his side.

And then there is the matter of his magic…

(In my head this is basically entitled *~shenanigans, love and a golden age~*. Canon divergent AU)

Love Is Never Lost - 11 chapters currently drafted and available on Patreon.

Summary: Uther Pendragon has never approved of Arthur’s friendship with Merlin. There had been disappointed sighs and whispered warnings, but Arthur had never thought it would come to this: scars on Merlin’s back and a manservant made hollow and thin by cruelty.

Yet Uther’s efforts to drive a wedge between them instead bring Merlin’s greatest secret to light, and once the wound of secrecy has been purged, their healing brings them closer together than ever before.

Much to Uther Pendragon’s horror.

When Merlin disappears, Arthur is left questioning the true honour of the crown and the value of a kingdom forever stained by his father’s tyranny. Will he answer the call of duty, or will he sacrifice everything to chase the cries of his heart?

Tags will include: magic reveal, corporal punishment, slavery themes (and all that may imply), missing presumed dead, good Morgana, Arthur's POV, slow burn, dreamwalking, happily ever after eventually plus whatever else shows up as I write these!

Sigh No More - 7 chapters drafted on Patreon. This fic is my beloved. My baby. I'm obsessed. Fantasy Age-Of-Sail AU

Summary: Prince Arthur Pendragon, Captain of the Llamrei, would far rather spend his days patrolling Camelot's Waters than assume his place on the throne. Yet when he finds the wreckage of a vast ship and one lone survivor on board, nothing can prepare him for the path his life will lead.

Nor the demands his heart will make.

Hiraeth Ideas

Additions to the Hiraeth universe ideas : Just some little bulletpoints to remind me about things I would love to add to the Hiraeth verse once it's actually done.

Gwaine vs. a lemon

Merlin gets flu (my biologist heart wants to explore Merlin's immune system vs. Camelot germs plus no modern drugs. Excellent hurt/comfort opportunity - not that Hiraeth really needs more of that.)

Merlin "tormenting" Arthur via the bond (Explicit,  definitely)

Merlin shows Arthur (and others?) modern London.

The knights of Camelot at the zoo (sort of)

Maps/globes/celestial bodies knowledge

💀 Agravaine 💀

The one with the eclipse (some king and his sorcerer are trying to show off said sorcerer's power. There just so happens to be an eclipse.They know what it is so Merlin cannot claim credit, but he totally fucks with them anyway.)

Non-Hiraeth ideas

Magic Reveal Via Time-Travel  (Added June 2024)

Merlin and the knights get themselves into some kind of dire situation. Merlin, in a panic and realising he's not strong or knowledgable enough to save them, pretty much demands that the universe in general sends someone who can help.

What actually happens is he gets flung five years into the future, and his future self (who is more capable, among other things) takes his place. He sorts out the dire situation, whatever it may be, and that leaves Arthur and the others with future!Merlin, who is not only very magically capable but 100% their Merlin with lots more confidence, as irreverent as ever, and unmistakably thrumming with magic. They can all feel it, because Merlin makes no effort to hide.

More to the point future!Merlin remembers this from the other side, when he was younger and the same thing happened. He knows this is when the others find out about his magic, and he is able to answer their questions and emotional responses calmly and rationally, because he already knows Arthur isn't going to kill him or hate him or anything.

(Quite the opposite, in fact, since he's having to hide the fact that Arthur's ring is currently gleaming on his finger. He is grateful, at least, that he wasn't a. Pulled naked out of the bath for this magical meeting or b. wearing his crown, which would have been hard to explain without breaking Arthur's tiny brain.)

Meanwhile, young!Merlin is in Camelot, five years in the future, and Arthur and the others are a bit older, a (very little bit) wiser, and are also doing a brilliant job of calming him down and letting him know everything will be all right. And actually showing him the golden age they achieve -- that it's not impossible and out of reach.

Possibly a long four parter from young!Merlin, young!Arthur, older!Merlin and older!Arthur's points of view. Assuming I can write it without being confusing 🤣

Merlin's Voice - possibly a bit dark

My desire to put Merlin inhurt/comfort situations knows no bounds, but this one actually stems from the fact that Merlin doesn't remember the hug after he's been missing in Servant of Two masters and I'm weak for Arthur being a worried angsty little lamb about his missing manservant.

I'd probably go AU and make Morgana good, with Merlin's magic being known, and just have Morgause basically taking Morgana's place, except she and Agravaine are trying to get information about Camelot's weaknesses, and who better to lean on than Arthur's idiot manservant.

Cue Merlin being missing for days, Arthur panicking, Agravaine being dismissive as usual, and Morgause growing increasingly frustrated at the fact that she cannot get anything of note out of Merlin.

In the end, she tries a spell to force him to speak, except that Merlin is so fiercely determined not to betray Camelot and Arthur that his own magic takes the spell and twists it, forging it into a spell of silence instead.

Morgause gets cruel in her frustration, but eventually, Merlin manages to escape and head back for Camelot. It's no easy journey, and more to the point, the spell silencing him will not come off. No matter how hard he tries. He was so determined not to say anything that his magic went overboard in an effort to meet his intent.

I want to write that hug so Merlin remembers it. I want to have Arthur initially teasing about the silence but getting increasinlgy distressed by it. I want the realisation that Merlin is so incredibly expressive that the others rarely need him to write what he wants to say, they can get the gist of it from just a look.

It's one of those ones with ~vibes~  I want to explore, but I have no idea how it ends.

The "Back To The Start" One

So I made this post on Tumblr and it did numbers (I was thinking 4 people would "hell yes" me, not 2000 +)

"Not me sitting here thinking about writing a fic where we start with Arthur dying in Merlin's arms after Camlaan and it's all tragedy and then the magic rises and they both end up back at that first day, in the marketplace, Merlin with "How long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?" dying on his lips as they stare at each other, fascinated, horrified, so fucking relieved because they both remember ALL of it and none of it's happened yet and this time they can maybe make it to a different, better ending.

And they can do it together."

BUT TO EXPAND

I want to explore how Arthur and Merlin would interact with each other having lived in one another's pockets for ten years, only to be sent right back to the beginning, while retaining everything they are to each other. Merlin's magic newly revealed from the confession by the lakeside. The two of them standing there with every mistake in their future rather than their past and realising that maybe "two sides of the same coin" means "you need to work together, dumbass".

I want the two of them shocked by how young the other is. How different Camelot seems from what they're used to. How harsh Uther looks now that they know it can be different (though not as different as it should be, Arthur realises.) I want them correcting their mistakes (and each other's mistakes) and taking all that they know of each other and rebuilding their relationship (all their relationships, actually) on that honesty.

And the others don't remember. Morgana is still Morgana, still struggling, but still hoping to be saved. Mordred's just a boy.  Lancelot never sacrificed himself and it's so clear in Arthur's eyes that Gwen loved them both but that she loved Lancelot first and in a different way.

The knights end up at Camelot earlier simply because Arthur and Merlin set out to find them earlier. 

("We need Gwaine." "Do we? Really?" "Yes, you great prat. Come on.")

And so much more.

The "Fake Favourite" One 

This is basically me having a desperate urge to write all the political whatevers of Arthur taking Merlin as a favourite, smashed together with a fake dating AU.

Basic premise is simple: in an effort to avoid the latest princess eyeing up his hand for marriage (and with Uther's blessing, because it suits him for now to put off marrying Arthur to someone) Arthur decides that he will pretend Merlin is his lover and favourite. They spend all their time together anyway, and half the court rumour already appears to think they sleep together, so it will hardly be any change to either of them.

Except all Arthur has to do is say the words to make it happen, but there's a lot more to being a favourite than that. Merlin can't continue to serve him, and then there's the whole situation of a new wardrobe (which Merlin and his magic both fight against) the political wheeling and dealing that comes with a servant being elevated in status, not to mention the subtle ways in which the court first tries to manipulate Merlin, and then is manipulated by him in turn (for the good of Camelot)

What starts out as Arthur aggressively but jokingly courting Merlin (because Merlin said he was bad at it) ends up much closer to *actual* courting.

And no, Merlin cannot sleep in the antechamber, because the chambermaids will notice they're not sharing a bed.

(This basically would end up being a story about Merlin no longer being a servant but becoming a valued member of the court almost by accident (but being very good at it) and the two fools falling helplessly in love with each other while they pretend to be lovers.)

Morgana, Gwen and the knights would be placing ridiculous bets and generally watching it all with disbelieving horror and delight because only these two idiots could make falling in love so complicated.

The "Stuck In Close Quarters" One 

Merlin and Arthur trapped underground in VERY close proximity (like lying on top of each other) and running out of air and Merlin’s magic is too weak (thanks to a battle maybe) to get them out but he can replenish the air but there is no way Arthur won’t notice.

Cue a magic reveal in close quarters and love confessions.

The Horn of Cathbad one

Merlin dies and due to some glitchiness with his magic, he doesn’t immediately come back. Instead, Arthur, in the freshness of his grief, reaches for magic.

He uses the Horn of Cathbhad to see Merlin again, knowing that if he summons Merlin’s ghost and looks back, then Merlin will stay. (Maybe Gaius warns him - but he doesn’t take it as a warning, but a blessing.)

And Merlin answers, and Arthur doesn’t dismiss his ghost. There are ghostly shenanigans and while it’s not the same as having his friend back, it helps. He doesn’t really have to grieve.

Except that Merlin’s spirit starts to become restless and angry, and it reaches the point where Merlin is *begging* Arthur to let him go. He doesn’t know about his immortality but something is pulling at him.

And Arthur finds the strength to let him go and it’s like losing him all over again.

And then, of course, Merlin comes back ❤️

Blind Merlin One

Arthur and co. suspect Merlin has magic but haven't spoken of it to him yet. While out on patrol, Merlin takes a curse meant for Arthur, one that effectively blinds him until "you see the truth". Arthur thinks it's about the magic and it dredges all that out into the open, but the curse doesn't leave. Merlin quickly adapts to using magic to "see" (in a manner of speaking) and keeps his eyes covered to hide their glow.

Of course, Arthur's threatened about Merlin's vulnerability and baffled about the curse etc. It turns out that the truth they need to see is how they feel for each other. Angst/hurt/comfort/fluff because I can.

Omegaverse One (Maybe a series? Sort of tempted to try out some MPreg)

Well off my normal beaten path, but I keep what-iffing it so I'm writing it down here (and will totally draw on some of the mechanics and plot points of Gilded Cage)

Not all magic users are Omegas, but all Omegas have magic, which means Merlin has more than one secret to keep, and he keeps it well. It "helps" that when he presented in Ealdor, one of the Alphas in the village attacked and bit him, forming enough of a bond to stabilise his biochemistry before he managed to escape. It was that incident that pushed him and Hunith into making him go to Camelot.

Merlin successfully hides what he is for years, thinking he's safe, but the Alpha who bit him never stops looking for him. The Alpha eventually tracks him down, threatens Merlin etc., but gets killed in a tavern brawl before he can make good on his threats. That, in turn, breaks the bond that's been keeping Merlin stable and able to pass, in general, as a beta.

Cue it all going a little bit to hell because Arthur thought he knew everything about Merlin and it turns out he really didn't, and now his irritating and attractive beta manservant who always smelled good is an irritating, attractive, sorcerous omega manservant who smells amazing... etc.

(and maybe this one sounded a lot better in my head? There's a whole heap of nuance I'm not putting down - but it's a possible future Merlin fic.)

Different curse fic

A sorcerer curses Arthur with magic in order to make the Pendragon heir everything that the king hates. He wants to see if he is a hypocrite who will spare his sorcerous son, or a tyrant who will damn the ties of blood and execute him.

Cue Arthur frantically trying to hide the fact that he has magic from everyone, including Merlin, except that's fantastically unsuccessful because Merlin has magic, knows magic, *is* magic.

Then you've got Merlin desperately trying to hide the fact that Arthur had magic from the court while concealing that *he* has magic from Arthur. He very small and tired and stressed about it.

But the upshot is that Arthur has a better understanding of magic - how it is not, in itself, bad or corrupt - and because his magic has no chill and absolutely adores Merlin it acts as the pivotal point that brings out all their secrets (and desire)

The Lancelot and a dead body one -probably shortish.

This is more a scene that anything, but I keep thinking of how to expand it a bit better (I did a text chat thing on tumblr about this plot bunny I need to write it one day)

Arthur and all the knights are in an antechamber off the armoury after an evening training session. The door is ajar. They hear Lancelot come in and Gwaine's about to call out to him when Merlin stumbles through the door.

'I need your help burying a body!'

And Lancelot doesn't squawk or demand answers but just says, in a "so done with this shit" voice: 'Again?'

Meanwhile Arthur and the others are like "What the hell?" and follow Merlin and Lancelot out towards the border of the Darkling Woods where there is a huge and very dead monster just.... lying there.

Then we have Merlin making desperate and really bad excuses, which Arthur would be more willing to pretend he believed if Merlin wasn't bloodied and swaying where he stood and also had flowers blooming around his feet, because Merlin used a lot of magic to take this thing down and it's kind of leaking a bit.

And then we go on from there with the knights spending all night trying to dig a big enough hole and asking questions and all that, and Merlin being too tired and beaten up to really put them off - and then I end it somehow. (I did say this was just a scene!)

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Ik this is more on the vague side, but ever since i read ur Irminsul headcannons about the reader in Imposter!SAGAU I got this idea, what if:

The reader could just remove info about themselves in the big tree lol - i mean, Scarab did it before might as well try it, no?

Irminsul itself might let us in without the permission of Nahida so we could go in undetected

Since looking through the memories of Irminsul might be like exploring an endless library, as long as you set your mind to it, you'd be able to find that info, like for example:

Memories about the "Creator"

Now, by now, you already know what I'm getting at, right?

Once reader finally figures out how to erase stuff by trying removing certain minor parts of Irminsul, they try to erase the entire memory of the "Creator" ever existing

Not as in like, they would forget that you were the Creator or that one exists, nor what they look like, but just the horrible memories and basically everything that the "Creator" did/made

But now, one would wonder, what would happen now?

I'd guess that, since the "Creator" is believed to love everyone, why is the one on the throne ruling and acting so... Tyrannical?

In my opinion, I feel like a rebellion would ensue sooner or later

But then, since Scarab lost his own memories when he removed himself from Irminsul, wouldn't that also mean the same thing for the "Creator" themselves?

Anyways, feel free to procrastinate and take your time on my take on reader being able to remove info on Irminsul hehe (bc honestly I'd also do that lmao)

Signing off, 🐱 Anon

WE GOT A 🐱 ANON NOW, BOIS—OPEN THE CURTAINS, OPEN THE LIGHTS! CUE THE CLAPPING AND CHEERING AUDIO TRACKS!—

Alright I'm done making a fuss about that lol—here's the headcanon/jot note version of a oneshot of everything that happens since my motivation was running low on oneshots/short stories.

Disclaimers: N/A

Reader Has Entered Irminsul...

Reader is in their Hunted Arc rn, getting chased by all of Teyvat under the "Creator's" orders. They keep running and running and running...

They're getting tired, and they soon find themselves in a dead end. They think of all the places they haven't been to yet: the desert of Sumeru, Inazuma, Mt. Aocang, Mt. Hulao, Wuwang Hill, irminsul—

Yeah, you guessed it. Just by thinking of irminsul, Reader has made it to the big 'ol Tree of Knowledge :D

Reader is shocked—surprised. But not for long—because they start to panic. They aren't sure if Nahida was on their side or not, like what the sagau fanfics say.

In fact, Reader is mainly scared that she already knows they're here.

That is, before the Reader feels a sudden urge to make it to the Tree of Knowledge. As if irminsul is calling for them specifically. They're weary of what this all means, but at the same time, intrigued.

It was the first time they felt like this. So, naturally, they followed what their gut was telling them, hoping that they won't regret this decision.

Reader gets close to the tree, surprised that they managed to make their way to it without requiring access from Nahida or even getting lost just to navigate the route to get there.

The moment they touch irminsul's trunk, however, the Reader feels a sudden blast of information, as if Teyvat itself is giving them the resources to know what to do.

By the time Nahida feels something from irminsul and she arrives to see what's up, it's too late. The Reader's already made the change.

All tyranny of the "Creator" was erased. None of it happened. Not once, not ever. The Palace of the Creator was never created, the Imposter themself never took on any throne...nothing.

Reader comes back to Mondstadt, hoping that what they did worked.

It did. No one remembers what the Creator looks like. There was no Imposter impersonating them. Reader was free.

They were free! They did it! They could travel the entire world now without risking getting killed! They could finally find a portal home!

Except...they forgot the Traveler existed. But even the Traveler is glad there is no more tyranny.

Andd, that's all I got! Sorry if it's short lol—I ran out of ideas for this :') I hope it's okay for y'all.

See you all around! :D

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: So, as I've been writing this, I'm going to give you guys a little update on something that you all really enjoyed in the past.

So, you know "Forever In My Hold" and "A Path Beyond Hope" oneshots? Yes, this is regarding of the little series that has been created. I have decided that I will be making a Part 3, but it will take a very long while. And it will be the LAST PART of the series. I just can't find the motivation to continue it longer.

Also: Should I do a remake of Live or Die? It's a very old writing of mine, back when I first began this blog. I'm not sure if y'all want to read it, but idk if I want to make a remake. Please let me know :)

[candysugarush]

TXT Profiles and Tales:

✧══════•❁❀❁•══════✧

Choi Yeonjun

Tale : The Pied Piper

Character : The Pied Piper

Story : On that day of winter, as a wandering lad, all he wanted was to make a quick buck with this golden opportunity as he stumbled on the city of Hamelin. And yet, after all his work to help the town folks, he was thrown away like nothing. All of them were horrible. All? Not the mayor's daughter who took care of him during his stay.

As he play of his flute and lure the children away from this ungrateful town to a better place, won't you join him? Don't force him to play you a tune.

Choi Soobin

Tale : Cinderella

Character : The Fairy Godmother

Story : Born from your lucky star on the day you came to life, he was your devoted guardian and best friend with for duty to watch over you. Through happiness and despair, sickness and health. He was present through it all even if you couldn't see him. And on that faithful night where he finally appeared to you to help you to the ball, he never regretted granting your wish as much as he did now. That monstrous prince chasing after you, seeking to possess you.

It's alright, he is going to fix his mistake. Trust him. He is going to give you your happy ever after, no matter what.

Choi Beomgyu

Tale : Rapunzel

Character : The witch

Story : Living as a recluse and in solitude for centuries wasn't truly a problem for him, even if he craved that companionship. So when a young man stole from his garden to feed his sister, he jumped on the occasion, allowing the man to go free if he won a game against him, and if he lost, his sister would be his. Luck on his side, the wizard won and grabbed the young girl, moving her to a recluse and hidden tower for him to keep.

And now years later, you can't really complain about your life with everything you could wish at hand. And yet the outside world is a blurry memory that you should forget already. Don't you see he is trying to protect you? He knows what's best.

Kang Taehyun

Tale : Snow-white

Character : The evil queen

Story : Born from a loveless union as the needed heir to his kingdom, he got the combined beauty of his mother and strength of his father to become a renowned war strategist and alchemist. But the lack of love in his life left him with a hole in his heart he filled with an obsession and striving to become the best. And so as he stepped in to marry the widowed queen of the neighboring kingdom, he wasn't expecting the emotions he would feel during the years toward the princess, hate and jealousy mixing with something else as you became a woman and later on, ran away to protect your life.

You're the only one who genuinely cared for him even when he pushed you away. Won't you forgive him and come back to your step-father? If he can't be the fairest of them all, he can at least possess the fairest one.

Huening Kai

Tale : Alice in Wonderland

Character : The queen of hearts

Story : As the sole monarch of an entire abstract land, he liked to make sure the rules were followed to a T even if it didn't make sense in this crazed world. Dutifully following a routine in a place where day and night could coexist at the same time in the same place and where time could go backwards. Accompanied with his ten cherubs adorably frolicking as usual, the tyranny was going as usual until a curious girl walked in and questioned everything about him and his ways, especially his unreasonable outbursts.

So after criticizing him to his face as well as complaining about his rules, you decide to leave after looking at the clock? Oh no, you're not leaving yet. Tea time just started and you don't want to break a rule.

✧══════•❁❀❁•══════✧

Which story are you jumping into?

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

W-would you write for Gortash? There's so little Gortash content and I need that man to be IN ME in many ways, so pls pls write anything for him IM BEGGING it can be nsfw, sfw, drabble, headcannon im starving mother pls

Man Gortash lives rent free in my head with Astarion 24/7 aaaa he so HOT love him

Rated M

You try not to think about him, about how those golden claws had scratched your skin, about how he whispered the most sinful promises. Promises he intends to keep as Archduke of Baldur’s Gate and you are his marital partner.

A ring, an engagement ring he slipped onto your ring when he had thoroughly exhausted you. You stare at it right now as you lay in the bed in the Elfsong Tavern.

The others were sleeping by the time you returned, outside of Lae'zel. You told her that this is not the time to talk.

Not until you figure out your feelings.

It is strange, you never slept with anyone other than Astarion. He is a friend, the only one who understands you yet… You know seeking more with him will have to happen in the future. Yet, Gortash offers you immediately his hand, his devotion, and his trust.

Maybe it is a trick. You only see how obsessed he is with Baldur's Gate and power, however, that same obsession turns to you.

A vampiric lover, eternal and beautiful, a child of the night.

You look over to Astarion who is meditating a few beds crossed from you, then your eyes return to the ring. The craftsmanship you see is by him, the gem matches the one on his gauntlet, and you can feel his magic.

Dark, and imposing, when you stare into the gem you swear you can feel him looking back.

You take it off and hide it under your pillow before lying down.

You hold your left hand close to your chest, your eyes closing.

That night you dream of him, of a perfect world. The day is his, the night is Astarion and yours. Balance and peace through tyranny.

[liaswritesrobots]

Inspired by @montyuh's asks about terrible soulmates.

"Check his arm." Tarn commanded Vos.

Vos shook his head after examining the mech's arm.

Still no luck. Though he supposed that was a good thing, since he didn't want to be the sparkmate of a dead mech. Still, it's been centuries and he still hasn't found anyone with the name that was written across his arm and he hasn't found anyone with his name on theirs.

He sometimes imagines what kind of bot they are, to have such a strange name for a cybertronian- perhaps they weren't born on Cybertron and instead are a part of a colony off world. He wonders if they're a Decepticon. He hopes they're a Decepticon... or at least a neutral that could be easily swayed into joining the Decepticons. He wonders what colors they've decorated their frame with. And what color their optics are. And if they like music. He hopes they like music. He could sing for them.

He thinks about them far too much some would say. Obsessively checking every bot they off to make sure they aren't the one. Not that he's opposed to murdering his sparkmate if they're an Autobot or defector, but he can't help but feel a tinge of sadness at the thought of the bot made solely for him being his enemy.

He wants to know the euphoria of having his other half by his side. Someone to hold him on those long, lonely nights aboard The Peaceful Tyranny. Someone to protect. To conquer. To playfully tease in the privacy of his habsuit. Someone that loves him.

He sighs, turning to leave the room. Ever since they boarded this Primus awful ship crawling with Autobots he's had this... feeling... that the one he's supposed to meet is here. He wonders if there's a chance they're locked in the holding cells. Some Decepticon prisoner that wandered into these fools' path and found themselves at their mercy.

That wouldn't be so bad. Then he could free them himself. They'd be completely indebted to him then. They'd have no choice but to be by his side and-

He stops in his tracks noticing you standing there with a blaster aimed at him.

Human.

These Autobots and their love for organics... it's disgusting! Letting one of you live amongst them. Disgraceful. What a pathetic little thing, trembling at the sight of him despite your fighting stance. Your little arms can barely hold that blaster up and they're shaking too bad for you to even get a clear sh-

Hold on...

He squints, examining your trembling arms. They're shakey but he swears- he swears he can see the word "Damus" on it. His eyes grow wide and with a swift step he snatches you off the ground causing you to drop your blaster. You scream and struggle and try to hit his hand to make him let go of you but he brings you to his face to examine you.

He raises his other hand and between two digits, violently stretches your arm out causing you to cry out in pain.

Damus

And it looks like the word "Glitch" is faded behind it.

"No." He whispers. "No. No. No! No! NO! NO! NO!" Each no getting louder an more desperate as his grip starts to tighten around you. You manage to yank your arm free from his grip and try to pull yourself up out of his hand.

"Human, what is your name?" His eyes narrow.

"Like I'd tell you!"

Defiance. Even in the face of danger, even within his grasp that could easily end your life you refuse his simple request. He tightens his grip again, causing a sharp pain in you as you gasp and huff for air, "Tell me!" He demands through gritted teeth.

You comply this time and his grip not only loosens, he nearly drops you as he falls to his knees.

This is joke. This has to be. A cruel prank by Primus! There's no way his sparkmate is organic! This is a mistake! You can't be the one that is supposed to love him no matter what. You can't be the one he's wanted to hold and cherish for so long. You can't be the one he's been waiting for all of his life. You can't! You can't!

"Tarn?"

The sound of Tesarus' voice down the hall snaps him back into the moment. He stares down at you trying to pry yourself from his hand so you can escape. He closes his fist around you once more and opens his chest, placing you inside. He uses the wall to help himself back up.

"You ok?" Tess asks, running up beside the mech.

"Yes. I just... I think I need to go outside for a moment. I'll be back soon." Tarn turns away and staggers down the other end of the hall towards an exit

"You want us to put the party on hold for you?"

"No. Kill everyone you find. Do not leave even one spark intact." Tarn reponds.

He just has to clear his head. Some fresh air will do the ventilators good. He'll figure out what to do with you once he can think straight again.

[passionatememes]

Hi folks! Passover is coming up!

It is a joyful holiday celebrating freedom from tyranny and oppression. But, the celebration of freedom would ring hollow without, at the BARE minimum, an acknowledgment of the oppression of the Palestinian people that has been going on for decades.

We are told that this oppression is happening in the name of Jewish freedom and Jewish safety. We reject this wholeheartedly.

None of us are free until all of us are free.

Jewish, Palestinian, both, or neither, our freedoms are interconnected.

Through this Haggadah, we hope you can hold this wish for freedom within your heart. We will also be donating 100% of the funds (and matching the donation) to the Kasken family as they try to reunite in Canada. We will be making our donation on the last day of Passover (April 29th).

(Small disclaimer that this is not the end-all be-all of Passover Haggadahs - it is just a way for us to share with you how we are celebrating with our family and friends. We are not experts, nor are we particularly religious. Feel free to adjust as you see fit).

Feel free to share around!

❤️💚🖤🤍

p.s. you don't have to be Jewish to purchase/download the Haggadah!

If you don't know what a Haggadah is, it's pretty much just a booklet telling the story of the holiday. It includes the prayers & customs and the order in which we do them, as well as a excerpt from the Torah (or an abridged version).

I can't speak for other families, but for Passover my family would make our own custom one each year and include writings, meditations, and invitations to think about the wider world.

[downtherabbithole-tumbleedition]

Ok so this one a little different but I wanted to see what you can do with it

Can I request a yandere alduin x reborn Dragon Born reader x yandere playtonic pryox

So the reader was alduin mate and pyrax little sister ( i can not remember how to spell that Dragon name the one that on the throat of the world with the Gray beards) but during the war she was killed but she reborn as a dragon born and not only that but got married. And pyrax is torn on helping his sister and joining alduin.

And reader not happy with them and she married a Dragon Slayer

Blood in the Water (Yandere! Alduin x Reader x Platonic Yandere! Paarthurnax)

“We’ll never get free

Lamb to the slaughter

What you gon’ do when there’s blood in the water?

The price of your greed, is your son and your daughter

What you gon’ do when there’s blood in the water?”

- Blood // Water, granson

Paarthurnax knew you.

The dragon had always been told that he read too much into others, searching for things that weren’t there - trying to gain a better understanding of someone by peering into their soul. Well, he liked to believe he could.

But you were different, he knew you. From the moment you climbed his mountain, your very soul spoke to his; like a flicker of fire light after trudging through an endless snowstorm.

This must be a malicious plot, he told himself, remaining guarded with his icy gaze even as he longed to approach you with all the gentleness of the world. Perhaps the Greybeards had decided it was time for Paarthurnax to pay his dues, or the Blades had finally gotten to him… anything would be more plausible than her soul returning.

“Why have you intruded on my solitude, mortal?” He questioned harshly, your shocked and fearful gaze almost making him regret it.

Still, you were able to catch your bearings and face him - something most mortals would not do. “The Greybeards sent me. I am the Dragonborn.”

Ah… perhaps this was Akatosh’s way of punishing Paarthurnax for his misdeeds.

Although Akatosh often did not play by his own rules, there were usually only two ways for a Dragonborn to be birthed into existence: a dragon and a human breeding, or the soul of deceased dragon being reborn into a human.

He shouldn’t have been surprised, not when he really thought about it. Whilst it was unlikely for you to be reborn - what will millions of other dragons who could have been reincarnated - but out of every dragon he had ever met, of course it was you. Dragons could only be reborn because their souls were made of far sturdier stuff than mortals, the very substance refusing to dissipate. And you had the strongest soul of all.

Strong enough to put up with Alduin, after all.

Alduin, the very thought brought unrest to Paarthurnax’s stomach, his insides squirming at the idea of Alduin knowing of your return.

By all rights, Paarthurnax was supposed to help the Dragonborn - you - defeat Alduin and stop the dragons from once again taking over the world. Alduin and his subordinates would give Paarthurnax Oblivion, of course, fighting fang and claw to have the Dragonborn’s head on a pike. But the Dragonborn was a larger threat to most dragons than they were to the Dragonborn, very few having the ability to stand against them. With enough training, perhaps the Dragonborn even stood a chance at defeating Alduin, especially if they wanted to see another day.

However, if you really were her, well… that complicated everything.

Alduin had always ruled with an iron claw, leaving the mortals alive only out of necessity and sinister amusement. His tyranny was not reserved for mortals, either, even the dragons themselves fearing Alduin’s wrath. After all, if he grew tired of the world, he could simply destroy it.

But even Paarthurnax had feared Alduin after your death.

Alduin had always enjoyed ruling, conquering, entertaining the idea for centuries rather than destroying the world and allowing birth for a new one. But when you’d been killed, it was like the dragon stopped caring - as if any emotion aside rage had been beaten out of him. Alduin decided to destroy the world because his had been taken from him.

You, however, had always been kinder - far kinder than an average dragon. No one really knew why, perhaps it was because Paarthurnax and, eventually, Alduin had always shielded you from the world. As the World Eater’s mate, you weren’t expected to lift a claw.

It had been heartbreaking when you discovered just how much Alduin (and Paarthurnax, although he tried to forget that) terrorised the mortals. You just couldn’t understand why Alduin - your Alduin, who always showed you nothing but kindness - would inflict such horrors on those who could not fight back. That was the start of Paarthurnax’s guilt.

You begged Alduin to stop and, because it was you, he compromised - allowing the mortals to exist without being burned down at every move. But some of those mortals took Alduin’s mercy for weakness and formed the building blocks for the revolution.

A revolution where you had been killed.

Paarthurnax almost wanted to side with Alduin after watching you, one of the only dragons who gave a damn, be killed. But, in your dying breaths, you begged Paarthurnax not to fall with Alduin into vengeance. After all, why should all the mortals be blamed for the act of few?

For you, Paarthurnax helped the mortals and ceased the end of the world, dreading the day Alduin would return.

But now you and Alduin were both back and, for once, Paarthurnax had no idea what the outcome would be.

“Have you encountered the World Eater, Dovahkin?”

“I haven’t,” you replied, as he thought; if Alduin had found you before Paarthurnax, you’d never be allowed to stray from the World Eater’s grasp.

Paarthurnax sent you on a “quest” then, to “prove your worth and skill”. In reality, he needed time to think, to gather the thoughts racing through his mind and figure out what he planned to do. It was also to get you away from the throat of the world because Paarthurnax had a strong feeling he would be paid a visit from Alduin.

He was proven right when the black dragon landed on his mountain, quiet anger radiating from his scales.

“The word is true, then. You have returned,” Paarthurnax mused, trying his very best to mask the wariness that was etched in his veins. The ancient tongue felt good, like an old friend he hadn’t spoken to in centuries. He had missed having dragons to communicate with.

“Where is she?” Alduin demanded immediately, voice as commanding and ferocious as Paarthurnax remembered. He didn’t have the strongest thumm for nothing.

“I am unsure what you mean, brother.”

Alduin growled, a warning no doubt. “I am not in a gaming mood. Tell me where my mate is, Paarthurnax.��

“What would make you think she has returned?” Paarthurnax asked casually, the lie easily rolling off his tongue. “She died with the war.”

Paarthurnax knew he was poking a hungry, vengeful bear but, if it meant keeping Alduin off your trail, he would make that sacrifice.

“Cease your treacherous lies, her soul calls to mine. I can feel her very essence. If you do not reveal her presence to me, Skyrim shall burn.”

Well, Paarthurnax would lose no sleep over that. Not if it meant your well-being. You were far more precious than the whole world.

Eventually, Alduin left after his fire clashed against Paarthurnax’s, the throat of the world fortunately remaining upright. Now, Paathurnax just had to pray to Akatosh that you stayed far from Alduin’s reach.

——

Vilkas wrapped his arms around you as your back sunk into his strong chest, nuzzled in his warmth and the comfort of the thick blankets. He placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, making a smile grace your face - the crackling of the fire lulling you to sleep.

“You frightened me today,” he said gently, nose resting in your hair.

“How so?” You replied tiredly, eyes still shut.

“You went into that cave all by yourself and I though…” he sighed. “I thought I lost you.”

You turned your head to look at him then, an almost amused smile on your lips. “You know I can handle a dungeon, right?”

He should have known that, considering the many times you, he, and Farkas explored the deep crevices of Skyrim together. Fighting tooth and nail against the Silver Hand to bring safety and glory to the Companions.

Of course, that was a different life.

“I am allowed to worry about you,” he defended, almost pouting, wrapping his hand gently in your hair. “This Dragonborn stuff… it is not easy, or safe. I want you to be safe.”

You practically shrugged. “I still believe it was mistake.”

He sighed again, tired of already having this conversation a million times. “It was my no mistake, my love. You absorbed the dragon’s soul.”

“And you killed it.”

The Companions had been a home for both of you, especially Vilkas. But he had found a new home with you, one where he didn’t feel the need to constantly fight and kill. For you, he left the companions.

You’d tried to convince him to renounce his wolf form too, explaining that he did not need to live with the constant hunger and bloodlust. He said he would, one day, but he was scared to be vulnerable - especially when he’d left all he knew. You let the matter drop, giving him time to adjust.

You had been accepted into the Companion’s inner circle, given the opportunity to take the wolf form and transcend mortality.

It didn’t work.

Almost immediately, your body burned, forcing the blood from your lungs, coughing it up as if you were drowning. You had passed out and were sick for nearly a week, as if your body simply refused to change its form.

Vilkas had been in charge of nursing you back to health then, and the two of you quickly fell for each other.

At least you were finally given an explanation; the dragon in you denying any other form of blood or soul that would change you.

Regardless of what did or did not happen, Vilkas left the companions and, although he already had an abundance of money saved up (enough to let the two of you live comfortably for the rest of your lives), he became a hunter. Or, more specifically with what had happened to the world, a dragon hunter.

The return of dragons had been daunting for everyone, but not Vilkas. He saw people cowering in fear and found it in his heart to help them, even at the risk of his own life.

You were just there at the right place and right time (or wrong place, wrong time, depending on how you looked at it) and, suddenly, you were the Dragonborn. The person destined to stop the end of the world.

It should have been Vilkas - he was the one he wasn’t afraid of the beasts, who could slay them without so much as a bat of an eye. Perhaps you were strong - even compassionate in the right circumstances - but, selfishly, you did not want the weight of the world on your shoulders.

You did not want to have to face the World Eater.

Paarthurnax had been frightening enough, and he didn’t even want to kill you. How in the divine’s name were you supposed to defeat Alduin? Perhaps that was it - the divines had given up on this world, deciding to mock the chance of survival by throwing them a useless Dragonborn.

“It should have been you,” you often whispered to Vilkas, in the dark of the night when your false bravado left you and only the insecurities remained.

“I will be with you every step of the way,” he would always reply without fail, gently placing a kiss on your skin and holding you close.

You wished he hadn’t promised such a thing because, as you stood in the snow shivering to the bone with a ginormous black dragon flying above you, all you could think of was Vilkas’ safety.

Paarthurnax told you that the secret to defeating Alduin would lie within the Elder Scroll, which was located in the outskirts of Skyrim where no one dared to venture.

So how had Alduin found you? Was he not supposed to be eating the world?

Perhaps Alduin found you unassuming, weak even, because his fire was targeted solely at Vilkas, the nord panting from the constant dodges.

However, one thing you knew you were skilled at was archery.

Your hands shook from the cold and the fear coursing through you, but you did your very best to hold the bow steady, shutting one eye to gain a better perspective on where the arrow would it. You released the string, a flicker of pride running through when it hit its target.

Of course, that was snuffed out when Alduin’s furious red gaze shot to you.

Vilkas yelled out your name, warning you to move as the dragon approached you faster than you thought possible. In a flash, a claw closed around you and your world turned black.

——

Dragons mate for life.

Alduin always believed the sentiment to be stupid, preferring to mount and fuck whoever he deemed worthy. There was no need to risk his own convenience and concern for the sake of attachment.

But then there was you.

Paarthurnax had always had far too much mercy for a dragon, practically allowing his emotions to rule him. Even so, no one expected him to take a younger, abandoned dragon under his wing.

Without even being seen by most, you had become a common conversation topic - none of which was flattering. From what Alduin had heard, you were the runt of the litter, by all means. Abandoned for your inability to grow. Paarthurnax kept you shielded from the words, and even sharper teeth, of the dragon world.

It wasn't until about half a century later when Alduin first saw you - when, under Paarthurnax's mentorship, had you become fully fledged dovah. The spark was instantaneous, Alduin immediately filled with a possessiveness he had never before experienced.

You were his at first sight - nothing Paarthurnax or anyone else did would change that.

And you really were the most captivating creature Alduin had ever met; filled to the brim with life and excitement and curiosity. Perhaps he didn't show it very much but you held his beating heart in your claws, and he was willing to risk that so long as you stayed his. And you did - you were lovely, and extraordinary, and his.

Until you weren't.

Alduin was used to anger. He had felt and understood rage, the need for vengeance. But he never thought he'd experience sorrow - he had always mocked those who felt such a thing, claiming it was a weak emotion that a true dovah would never feel. But then you had been stolen him and his heart hurt.

Ruling had always satisfied him, enjoying every being bowing to him in fear and awe - his ability to do so was the only reason he never ate the world... until there was you, of course.

The world - or at least those who understood what being the World Eater entailed - took a breath of relief when he mated with you; finally the World Eater had something to tie him down, to make him want to keep the world turning.

But then you had been murdered by those mortal scum and Alduin decided that if he couldn't have you, the rest of the world wasn't permitted to live.

However, it seemed Paarthurnax never truly cared for you, disrespecting you and your memory by siding with the mortals and sending Alduin into a time loop.

When he first returned, Alduin was filled with rage, preparing himself to hunt Paarthurnax down and kill the traitor. But then he felt it - felt you. Your soul - as long as it had been - called to his, begging him to find you.

And find you he did, even if you were in the clutches of some mortal half-breed bastard.

It didn't matter; if the World Eater wanted something, he took it. Even if you were kicking and screaming.

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I'm so sorry that took so long, and the abrupt ending. This was mostly just set up but I'm actually really interested in this concept so, don't worry, there's gonna be a part two! Thanks for reading and I hope to see you there.