#and why does he want to kill himself so badly
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HELLO! CAN I HAVE LEE!SHADOW MILK AND LER!PURE VANILLA, PLEASE???
(つ・・)つ。・:*:・゚’☆
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2160131af610db6483f5bf5b80ef16af/c84e9bf1a56444a9-89/s540x810/c52575c0882f8b620f797bc917acb90a0fd75440.jpg)
OMG YES! I watched the teaser for the next update today and I am so unbelievably hyped! This sort of takes place in the next update, but it’s just me doing a bunch of guess work- obviously Pure Vanilla isn’t going to tickle the heck out of Shadow Milk, no matter how badly I want that to happen. (Kink/NSFW accounts DNI!)
Lies… the center of everything in this world, it seemed. Especially to Pure Vanilla Cookie, or rather the truthless recluse he had become. It really broke him when it was revealed that all of his life, every last part of it, was an elaborate lie crafted by Shadow Milk Cookie- who had spent all those years puppeteering him from the shadows, pulling every last string just right to create his best show yet. I mean, how would you feel? What would you think? At that point, could you even think? Would those thoughts be your own?
However, while swallowed in the darkness of deception, there was still a light that Pure Vanilla Cookie could see, glimmering faintly like a dying star. His entire life may have been something crafted by deception incarnate, but it was still life. One of the undeniable truths of life is that it will always find a way; it will always slip through the shackles you lock it into and blossom and grow.
The healer was in front of the beast, standing him down. His eyes were blank and hollow, there was just barely a gleam of life within them.
“Hehehehe! You really are just me with different colors, aren’t you?” Shadow Milk Cookie taunted “Look at you! In shambles and ashamed! The old proverb is true: the bigger they are, the harder they fall!” He moved in, intent on taking the Soul Jam back once and for all. However, whether on reflex or on active thought, Pure Vanilla Cookie moved out of the way. He was silent, though. “Seriously!? Don’t you ever give up? Everything has been a lie, my boy! Does that not kill you inside?!” The beast shouted in frustration, his voice cracking a little, it was as if his act was cracking alongside it. The glimmer of that light in Pure Vanilla Cookie’s mind started to seem a little brighter, as if it were cheering him on. Shadow Milk Cookie swung again, the frustration was growing just like that light, but that darkness could never overpower the light- no darkness can overpower light. Just as he was about to land a blow, he was blinded!
Pure Vanilla Cookie was swallowed and bathed with light, transforming right before the jester’s eyes! He landed on his feet, holding himself with confidence and a newfound air of strength that Shadow Milk Cookie tried to crush.
“It may have, but I overcame that despair.” Pure Vanilla Cookie slammed his staff on the ground and tiny flowers bloomed beneath it, “There will always be both truth and despair in this world, that is what you are right about. However, allowing one to consume the other is what leads to destruction! The two sides of the same coin are together for a reason, otherwise the coin could not be. And that coin is knowledge! The knowledge you swore you preached, but betrayed in favor of deception because it was easier to accept!”. Shadow Milk Cookie’s jaw hung open, his eyes were wide, for a moment he couldn’t put together a sentence. “W-W-WHAT!? You CANNOT be serious! I-It- No! NO, NO, NO!” He refused to accept it, how could this little pest just do that!? The jester’s face burned hotly with anger, “NO! I REFUSE TO BELIEVE MY EYES! YOU ARE NOTHING MORE THAN A PUPPET!” He tried to attack Pure Vanilla Cookie again, blinded by rage, but was stopped when the hero grabbed his hand and pulled him closer into a hug.
“But all the same, I understand why you would buckle under the lies.” He said, his voice suddenly a little softer, “I was just in your shoes and it hurt.” His voice was so deeply laced with empathy. “Wha-? No- huh?” Shadow Milk Cookie was so confused! Where is the anger? Where is the despair that was just there moments ago? He was this close to getting the Soul Jam back! It’s not fair! “However, I can’t say that I’ll let your actions go unpunished. I believe you can be set on the right path once again with a little coaxing, like anyone can.”, Shadow Milk Cookie tensed up as he felt fingers crawling up to his rib cage, “W-What do you think you’re doing?! Stop!” He tried to push Pure Vanilla Cookie away, but it was already too late. Oh, this was even more humiliating! Now he was being tickled by the little pest!
“Hahahahaha! Hahahahehe! Hehehehe! Nohoho!” He struggled meekly, while the healer somehow kept a vice grip. Pure Vanilla Cookie grinned and chuckled softly as his fingers lightly skated over Shadow Milk Cookie’s ribs. “Hehehehe! Hohohahahaha! Stop iiiittttt! Hahaha!” The beast was squirming even more now as he was tickled. It was so gentle, but somehow so effective! He snorted, “Hahahaha! You d-divahahaha!”, “S-Script! Hahahahaha! Ahahaha! Hehehahaha!”, he tried to speak but every word was washed away with waves of laughter.
Pure Vanilla Cookie gently lowered himself and his adversary to the ground, continuing his ticklish assault on him. His hands stayed firmly on his ribs, but would occasionally go up for a little bit to trace the hollows of his armpits, then drag back downwards. “Hahahahaha! Hahaha! Nohohoho! Please!” Shadow Milk Cookie snorted again, his pleas falling onto deaf ears. He found himself leaning against Pure Vanilla Cookie unintentionally, but the healer ceased the opportunity to poke a little more fun at him, “So you know you can be better? Well, definitely don’t be shy now! Let me embrace you!” He pulled the beast closer, one hand was now at his ribs while the other was stationed on his stomach.
Shadow Milk Cookie squeed as he felt the tracing of mindless little patterns on his tummy. When would this torture end?! “Nah! Nahahahaha! Hahahaha!” He laughed louder and louder, the sound echoed throughout the entire spire! His blue face was turning pink as he was at Pure Vanilla Cookie’s mercy, at least he was used to laughing so much, otherwise he’d be completely out of breath by now. He gave up on trying to get away now, resigning to his ticklish fate and continuing to laugh. It was apparent that Pure Vanilla Cookie wouldn’t be releasing him from his punishment anytime soon.
The healer hummed as he tickled Shadow Milk Cookie, noticing the resignation, “Giving up, are we? Tsk, tsk, tsk! Maybe I should tickle you more for that!”. Shadow Milk Cookie’s eyes widened again, but before he could protest the tickling suddenly got a little more intense and Pure Vanilla Cookie’s fingers were moving much faster. “HAHAHAHA! HAHA- HEHEHEHE!” His voice got high pitched as he was laughing way harder, “NO! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!” He tried begging for mercy, but it was far too late for any kind of mercy now. Pure Vanilla Cookie shifted the beast in his grasp, laying him horizontally across his kneeling lap.
Uh oh…
The tickling stopped for a moment, and Shadow Milk Cookie knew exactly what that meant. “W-WAIT! Please! No, anything but the-“, he squealed loudly as Pure Vanilla Cookie’s head came down on his stomach, “RASPBERRIEEEEEES! HAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHA! HOHOHAHAHAHEEE!”. The squirming started again as he was desperate to get away from the dreaded raspberries. However, that didn’t stop the hero! Pure Vanilla Cookie started to take shorter breaths to blow more raspberries, and he planted them all over Shadow Milk Cookie’s tummy as he laughed like crazy. It didn’t help that his fingers were still digging at his sides and ribs as he held him close. Now the beast was beginning to become breathless!
“S-Stop!” He finally got out and Pure Vanilla Cookie paused the tickling “N-No more! I surrender!” He sighed, wanting to take those words back as soon as they left. The healer finally released the beast, a smug grin on his face, “I’m glad that you do.” He placed a hand on his shoulder “Maybe now we can understand each other, and maybe the coin that we belong to can be whole once again.” The hero spoke hopefully and his tone was kind. Shadow Milk Cookie huffed, almost offended by all the redemption nonsense, but didn’t say anything… for once.
Who knows? Maybe deep down, seriously deep down, the Beast of Deceit yearned to be the Fount of Knowledge once again. It’s hard to say, isn’t it?
End of fic! Okay, I know most people don’t like the thought of the Beasts being redeemed, understandably, but I can’t help it. I find the idea so intriguing, I’d wanna see how they get there. I wouldn’t be mad if they aren’t redeemed, I understand that, it’s just that it’s so compelling to me to think of some kind of redemption arcs for them. I dunno, I just think that watching Zuko’s redemption arc from a young age permanently affected the way I see villains in their entireties. Also, I AM SO HYPED FOR THIS NEXT UPDATE! Pure Vanilla’s awakened form is so pretty and I desperately need to see the rest of the story unfold! Okay, I’ll stop rambling, have a good one 🫶
#everetts writings#cookie run tickles#sfw tickling#cookie run tickle#sfw twords#sfw tickling community#crk tickles#lee!pure vanilla#lee!pure vanilla cookie#ler!shadow milk#ler!shadow milk cookie#tickle fic#cookie run fanfic#crk fanfic
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Btw feel free to use any concepts I make as writing prompts/material for ur own fanfics
#art deserves to be shared#whats mine is yours brother#Especially that saiki k fanfic becuz I had a really good story idea for it but my aass is too lazy to write#Im lying my idea of a story was actually one scene idea inspired by the silent voice suicide scene#To expand on it I had an idea where Saikis limiters began to stop working and his bro gave him an esitmate of 30 days before they completel#cut out and stopped working#But he didn't want to be a psychic again and so he decided that in 30 days he would khs and for every single one of those 30 days he would#do something he always wanted to do as a normal person#During this time he began to apperciate his friends but also become more a more depressed because despite him hating being a psychic he#couldn't live without being one and so he gets really bad mentally and physically.#But he also begins to apperciate life. And his friends notice thisbut he pushes them away. It all comes to a stop where on the last day it'#A firework festival which is something he always wanted to enjoy but couldn't due to him only being able to hear everybodys thoughts due to#the crowding of those places. Anyways he decides to khs and as the fireworks go off and he steps over the balcony and is leaning on the edg#He questions why he's doing this#and why does he want to kill himself so badly#These past weeks haven't been all that bad#Does he really hate being a psychic that much?#Or does he really just hate living?#He then cries in the first time for a long#But then his friends comes up and in surprise he lets go of the railing and falls#U can decide where it goes from there#Make me cry
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the end of exams has been the biggest goal for me to get to for a couple of months but now it's here i'm realising everything is still awful even if i don't have to study for hours on end
#this is the inevitable post-exam exhaustion situation tbh#i told myself i'd sort it all out once they were over but i still can't respond to my parents. ventposting because my dad just tried to cal#btw#cant pick up#i'm so tired#just seeing his name on my phone screen makes me so scared and sad like i was all christmas but if i tell him that who knows what he'll do#probably shout at me#or tell me it's painful for him to hear and make me feel so guilty#or ignore me for a week then i'll worry he's dead#im so so scared that he thinks i don't want to talk to him or don't care and that's why i'm not responding#idk what he'll do if he gets too deep in that belief#and i want to respond and act all happy so he knows it's not true#but i can't#and my mum . :/#she's always been my mother who i love above anything else but now she's just a reminder of everything and i can't stand it#need to get away from them pls i wish i could tell them to leave me alone without the inevitable paranoia my dad will kill himself#and my mum will neglect herself#as she's admitted to doing because i didn't talk to her for 2 days#as i know my dad does too just because he doesn't care#and now i'm the worst person in the world because i can't reply and be all cheerful despite knowing these things#can't even chat to my housemates smh i fucked that up too#i'm too autistic to hold a conversation no matter how badly i want to#glad i'm not going out tonight wow#it would have gone SO badly#tw vent#i guess#got to stop this jfc
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i ship inhun in a way that differwnt and more swagful than anyone else btw.
#TBFHHHHH i know i know i knowwww i say a lot. but i dont even ship in in the traditional sense#i dont think it will b canon and i dont rlly WANT it to b canon. its just insane like ZAMNNNNN why r u looking at each other like thatatttt#i dont think that if (IF) inho reveals his identity gihun is gonna magically b like Oh my god… okay well i like u now. more the opposite#and i dont think inho genuinely likes gihun all that much. i think hes obsessed w him in a way that borders on it but. u know#to inho gihun mostly just represents the parts of himself hes locked away. hes like the person inho used to be or cld have been#i think he DOES want whats best for gihun but like. just in his own opinion#to him whats best is to just.. pretend these issues dont exist and move on.#i think being wrapped up in the games is sickening no mattter what side ur on and he knows this. and just wants gihun to forget#i also do think he sees Something special in gihun. but its not like Ahhhh come and rule by my side 😈 LOL#yeah like i said. the recognition of the self. DONT GO DOWN THIS PATH MAN FUCK OFFFFFF#um. also yeah gihun i dont think wld have such a thrn around to like date himmmm oh my god lol#i think its likely hell end up Not killing inho for various reasons and possibly even leaving room for redemption#but yeah i dont think he wld ever trust him even. i dont think he wld let all that slide 😭😭😭#gihun x youngil is bantssss. but not real at all sadly#rhe best fic i read of them was a pre series fic where inho wasnt the front man yet. and he met gihun by chance#and kinda used him to convince himself that what he was doing was right. For The Greater Good etc#i cant remember what it was called but it was sooo good i need to find it sometime#sniff….. living in a sad world where every body mischaracterises them sooooo bad and evil.#THE BEST INHUN CONTENT was the animation of them over the megamind breakup scene. MY GOD#ill be honest. igaf abt their dynamic soooo hard but htemain reaosn i ‘ship’ them is bc theyre both INSANELY FINE. AND I NEED THEM BADLY#and. im obsessed w them separately. so of course they are making out sloppy style in my mind#ill b honest as well i dont think gihun is in the right state of mind for aany of That AT ALLLL rn either.#and as well w inho not being intersted in that way. and also he shot his brother bc it was aconflict of interests. btw.#whatever tho lol the memes and shit r funny as fuckkkkk so idc. keep fucking#anyways sangihun 🔛🔝 for fucking everrrrrer in terms of an actual ship#tho i dont think they wld ever be canon either. well i mean. for obvious reasons#but also bc i dont PERSONALLY think sangwoo wld ever allow himself that. BYE#idk idk idk maybe i am wrong and i know nothing.#SORRY. ik i am fighting invsisible demons again i just saw a post abt Sickos who know Nothing abt the Themes…. NO GUYS.. PROMMY THATS NOT ME
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i have many many many critiques about wylls story, most of them being about the fact it's just so lackluster in game when compared to other companions which is a shame. because wyll to me is and has the potential to be an even more emotionally compelling companion. and he was early access!! he was so gritty in ea please bring him back larian i beg of thee. the way he was rewritten has stripped him of so much nuance and depth. wyll to me is such a wonderful character to me because of what he represents, which is heroism so down to his core he never gives up on it even when he ought to
his goodwill and nobility are ceaseless. at the center of his story is betrayal trauma, his agency over himself vanished into thin air. mizora turns him into a monster and there is no turning back. he has become the thing he's despised, the things he's hunted for his entire life. and we know so little about that canonically because of the way his story is set up but its hinted time and time again that he struggles with his reality deeply and even that cannot make him turn away from the city he loves so much.
if larian would go back to clean up and fix his story (which im truly praying to god they do) i want them to touch on what wyll must be going through as he continues to try to ground himself and deal with his newfound reality. i want them to touch on the abandonment he experiences because of his father and the inevitable burden his title as blade and hero has on him. because these things obviously compel him, they're hinted at all the time but they were completely stripped of him in final release and its fucking disheartening... larian please im begging you. thats the love of my life. please.
but for now i will do it with fanfiction and gather enough wyll fans to make a fuss about it . peace and love
#aristotle.txt#wyll ravengard#bg3#i love wyll so desperately. which makes sense as a deku lover certainly.#but i love him even more because his story is narratively interesting#here is a classically heroic noble making a devils pact to save his city#who is only rewarded for doing this by being banished from the city hes sworn to protect. by his father no less.#he spends seven years away from home and makes a name for himself as a fucking folk hero#he never returns. he doesn't explain himself. he decides that the least he can do is give his life to the sword coast#and then wyll meets karlach. a devil hes supposed to kill except shes not#and because wyll is wyll and because what matters to him most are his beliefs he is easily convinced to not kill karlach. he doesnt want to#kill karlach. so he doesn't. and he pays the price for it. his entire existence is uprooted and he is turned permanently into a partial#devil#hes become his own prey. he spends the game clearly sorrowful in the mourning process. and the game just refuses to touch on this set up#as a WRITER it boggles my mind why wyll does not get that attention from larian because the concept of a hero balancing the weight of his#own pain and sorrow against his beliefs is moving. being able to open up that path with tav narratively that allows wyll to be#selfish and heartbroken. to not be blade or sword. just wyll. what a beautifully interesting storyline would that have made#i have delusion in my heart. i hope they fix it. i want them to fix it so badly because i fucking adore wyll in every way.#and i want the game to represent who he is as much as i feel for him. he is an origin companion and deserves it.#bg3 spoilers
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im sure ive alrwady said this but veilgaurd called me a bottom in evedy language, most strongly elvhen tho. i cannot stop thinking about elgar'nans lil spiel to the venatori saying 'all you must do is love me, and kneel' like bruh......if rook wasnt so spiteful they probably would have...just to see where he was going with that....
#im afraid of a lot as i get to the end of the game but technical things like the skill tree and subclasses aside#i dont get why people are so unhappy with it#maybe im biased cause i always play an elf but i fucking LOVE learning about elvhen history and how we shaped thedas#and then it all went to shit and our gods hated us and used tevinter to make the world worse#i highly doubt this is the last da game the series is too popular and adding that we can be trans now is a massive improvement#even if i think the lighthouse should have been more like skyhold and let us talk to companions more#and craft the armor ourselves#and ngl i think the lighthouse should have been more of a refuge for those that survived the gods attacks#like anyone from arlathen/dmeta or hossberg#idk im really only bad about the skill tree and subclasses and lack of bards tbh#but truely......the lucanis almost kiss???? everything about being a mourn watcher??? my SHATHANN CALLING ME A TWINK#this game called me a slur#and just the fucking appearance of my lil rook....he looked so blissed when under elgar'nans trance#bellara and neve were so done with my shit there 😭#i do want to play a dwarf really badly next time#or qunari because the games have built a really interesting cuture for them but never really went strongly into it other than like#the arishok and the antaam? but now they mention the devouring storm and thats probably a fuckass big dragon#but now i need to know more#im not done but veilguard very much isnt the conclusion#but my god i cant stop thinking about how vulnerable my rook actually is like from the personality ive given him from myself#if the gods or like anaris found him before varric did.....this would be a very different story and there would be a lot of tears and#begging for a shot at redemption and care#oh god wed disappoint vorgoth......might as well just kill myself if that ever happened#i just love that my rook has become more senstive as ive played and more hurt when he was already not doing so hot for personal reasons#he still has a smart mouth but he wants to cry like 9/10 times he has to make decisions#companions stop asking me to shape their lives challenges#ngl rook would absolutely stsrt bawling his eyes out over manfred begging emmerichs forgivness for wanting manfred back#i just imagine tears coming down his face as he tells emmerich manfred was a hero and he deserves another chance to keep learning so that#next time he does soemthing heroic...hes prepared and wont 'die' by doing it#cause my lil guy knows hes not smart enough to bring manfred back himself
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WHY DID YOU FEEL THE NEED TO TELL ME ABOUT YOUR AROACE SENKU HEADCANON ON MY GAY SENKU AND TRANS REI POST
Just finished Dr Stone Reboot
#sorry for yelling at you but i do think you should make your own post#if you want an aroace character ryusui is right there and hes literally aroace flag coloured hes my favourite character hes so awesome#i dont see senku as aroace but i do see him as incredibly pragmatic and amazing at compartmentalising. romance is so far off his list of#priorities that he had never even thought about sex or dating. Hes the kind of guy who is fully able to abstain from earthly pleasures just#because he has more important shit to be doing (science) but meeting tsukasa made him feel some shit for the first time in his life#a guy whos strong and smart and hot and can keep up with him. someone whos a challenge to go up against someone so fun and electric#and this great and awesome guy says the most pathetic things in the world sometimes. its very clear that tsukasa made a deep impression on#senku. outside of romantic affection. senku was gentle to tsuaksa is a way that you dont see with other characters. at hakodate he tells#taiju and yuzuriha they might have to kill tsukasa but after that ? absolutely 0 talk of killing. hearing tsukasa say he has no friends#literally did something to senkus brain i genuinely believe he wanted very badly to be tsukasas friend like outside the context of shipping#just as something that happened in canon its clear that senku was thinking a LOT about tsukasa trying to unpack his motivations and charact#yes tsukasa is a killer but senku insists hes still a good guy. he doesnt write him off as a villain and he does not want to be his enemy#seconds before snapping his neck tsukasa is like maybe you would have been my friend and senku instead of being like hell no/ur delusional#he was like maybe :3 senku also tends to be sarcastically flirty but his pre stone wars dialogue with tsukasa was pushing it (also worth#noting that he was responding in kind to something that tsukasa initiated. whether or not its romantic theres definitely chemistry) when#tsukasa falls senku literally ran to catch him so they could fall together (which could mean nothing) hes tender to tsukasa in a way that h#isnt with the others he literally insists on making small talk with tsukasa on his deathbed because they never got a chance to know each#other and it clearly ate at him. Senku doesnt pursue people unnecessarily. He already had tsukasa in his pocket and he still made the effor#to keep him company so he wouldnt have to die in a silent cave. the guy who wouldnt even let his oldest friends thank him decided that he#wanted to make small talk (MASSIVELY ooc unless you consider... maybe tsukasa matters a lot more to senku than hes openly said...)#i think tsukasa was someone that senku found extremely difficult to ignore. Hes a guy who wants to save everyone and that what makes him so#awesome. romance will Never Ever be his first priority but his vow of celibacy kind of wobbled a little when it came to tsukasa#I see him as arospec homosexual myself because i think he has a very nonstandard view of romance as a whole but i also think that tsukasa#was the first guy ever that he could see himself with and even then if tsuaksa didnt want a relationship then senku would have been happy#watching from a distance after all he put so much effort into keeping tsukasa safe (read vol 12 boichis authors note)#like i fucking get projecting on a character i also fell deeply in love with tksn because me and my best friend dearly wanted to have known#each other earlier and that was such a beautiful and romantic sentiment that i saw reflected in tsukasen thats why i became obsessed#but senku 'strange behaviour' wrt tsuaksa has always stuck out to me ... he never acts like this with anyone else its gotta mean something#i dont think they were ever mortal enemies even at worst. tsukasa still had to bite his tongue not to call senku his friend when they were#in the throes of war. they meant something to each other. romantic or not they meant something very precious to each other
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i know if i just started drawing them elio mavis and atlas would take the world by storm (unrealistic) but that would require drawing them regularly.
#.text#itd be so easy.#the boy that is doomed to end the world no matter what he does to try and save it#and his future self who had died to travel back in time with the chance of changing fate. by killing the person who causes the worlds end.#himself.#and the girl who wants to save her best friend so badly she would have the world end if he could have the chance to live.#elio who wants to save people. who wants to live. but cannot do either. he is not meant to. but he tries. so hard.#and atlas who hates himself so badly. who is filled with so much guilt. that he doesnt blink at being told that he#- or rather his younger self - needs to die. and he who is willing to do it himself. he who cannot get himself to do it.#he loves elio. it is strange for him to say because he was elio. at one point. he isnt anymore. maybe thats why he Can say it.#it is easier to love someone who isnt you. who is better.#and mavis who stole elio's memories away from him because she knew what he would do if he kept them.#and she wants him to live more than anything else in the world. she would fight all who threatened him#and protect him with all she has. and yet. in the end. it is she who holds his blade up to his heart.#you dont even get it.my funny oc's.#they mean everything to me
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knowing the truth about solas being a spirit and regretting it, and being responsible for the tranquility of the titans and loss of connection to the Stone makes. me. insane when looking back on his conversations with varric. and just their relationship on the whole.
"why do the dwarves not know? why have they forgotten? did someone make them forget? how can they not care what i did to them?"
"do you miss the stone? do you know what i took from you?"
"look at what i did to you. your people are mutilated, forever forced to change from what they once were. and i did this to you."
"you don't even know what i did to you. the horrific crime i comitted against you and your people. you have no idea what you lost or what i did. you're not even angry at me. why aren't you angry at me?"
"you should be angry at me and trying to restore what i took. how can you continue on the way that you are? how are you even whole?"
and then we have harding's comment in da:tv
this comment from harding, after all of the conversations with varric, in hindsight, really does highlight something about solas. for all his guilt and regret, being practically one of if not THE only person who knows what truly happened to the titans. being one RESPONSIBLE-
at no point does he make attempts to fix that until he is convinced to potentially at the end of da:tv.
his conversations with varric are clearly some self projections, and wondering how varric can't be like HIM- he DOES know what the elves lost and what was done, and so he DOES want the old world to be restored. it's to absolve himself of his own guilt, along with trying to fix his mistake. how can he NOT fight? how can his own people not see what they lost and not try to put it back? he has to undo what he did.
but he never does this for the dwarves.
he often will say how he doesnt relate to the elves, and how when asking him 'who are your people', he avoids the topic. because the elves are NOT his people. he is a spirit! and his priorities always align with one simple thing:
that he regrets being made flesh. if he could go back to being a spirit, if all the elves could, if it could all just go back to the way it was before, everything would be fine!
it takes at least four people at the end of da:tv to make him see that this is ultimately selfish and unrealistic. that no amount of regret or attempts to put things back the way they were will undo what he did. in his obsession with self absolution, he completely forgets about the titans, and the blight, all being because of HIM.
he talks to varric, he talks to harding, all the while knowing what he did and being oh so sad about it but never stops to think. wow i actually may have the power to help with this!
he is so, SO focused on his own crusade for himself while also convincing himself that it's for the greater good. telling himself that oh! this time his great plans for the 'right thing' will go well, surely! the last few times, with the titans, and the blight, getting mythal killed, the sealing away the evanuris and changing the world because he messed up the ritual, then trying to awaken his orb only to give it to an immortal blighted magister that explodes the veil- those were all just! flukes! this one will go right FOR SURE!
and is that not just very similar to varric? how varric repeatedly also makes mistakes, and then doesn't face them? he brought hawke into the deep roads and put them in danger, possibly got their sibling blighted, brought back the red lyrium which led to (gestures) all THAT, introduced hawke to anders which led to (gestures) BOOM, led hawke to corypheus, told bianca about the deep roads which led to corypheus getting his hands on red lyrium.
but their key difference? varric simply accepts his mistakes and attempts to do better the next time. varric accepts that the past cannot be changed, no matter how badly he regrets it. he has to move on, he has to do better, he is still here, people are still here, and theyre worth trying for.
"That's the world. Everything you build, it tears down. Everything you've got, it takes. And it's gone forever."
"The only choices you get are to lie down and die or keep going. He kept going. That's as close to beating the world as anyone gets."
like of course. of course solas couldnt keep rook inside a prison of regret by using varric as the catalyst! because that's just not who varric is! that's who solas is. solas saw parts of himself in varric, but didn't listen enough to what varric has always been saying. he never does! he doesn't self reflect, he doesn't consider, truly consider that he's wrong until he is being held at knifepoint and confronted with the literal specters of his past telling him to stop fucking self flagellating and convincing himself that he knows best or that this isn't just out of self pity. 'it's for the elves', he says every morning when he wakes up.
for all solas' wisdom, he truly is poisoned by pride and regret. it's just so. (clenches fist)
he spent all this time using varric's memory, surely he is familiar enough with how varric thinks and feels at this point? surely he undersands now?
you have to stand with him at the edge of the world, teetering on the edge of the abyss and decide if he's worth putting in the effort to make him truly take everything varric said and did to heart. to take what we have now and make it better, instead of dragging a corpse of guilt around for eternity.
#dragon age#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age veilguard#veilguard spoilers#SORRY IM BEING INSANE THEIR RELATIONSHIP MAKES ME INSANE!!!!
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I saw 18 and the lyrics and instantly thought of Dion Agriche and now I need it so badly pretty please 🥹
EVENT'S ENTRY OO5 : DARK HORSE
[ yandere! dion agriche ]
notes: the event ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ
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dion never wanted a doll. he never asked for a doll.
that was one thing that the members of agriche family knew.
and there were two reasons why he did that. first, he was busy with the missions that his father assigned to him. and second, he find it revolting. since on his eyes, he was much different than his mother. he never found any joy on tormenting those dolls, unlike his mother.
but it changed when he met you, cassis pedelian's younger sister. the one who got kidnapped along with her older brother. the one that got her eyes gouged by lant— he changed his mind.
look at you, so pitiful, so bloodied.
he felt himself smirking as he looked down at you. chained on the chair, as cassis pedelian glared at him. spouting nonsense about not touching his younger sister. but dion didn't care at all.
he just wants to know. he was curious about you and your bond with cassis. because he never had a bond like that with his siblings. so, he started wondering. if he get you, will he be able to understand?
after visiting you on the prison. he decided to pay his father a visit. which is unusual, according to lant. and what's more unusual was dion's request.
“ give me ( name ) pedelian, father. ”
it wasn't a request. it was a command. something that dion, his beloved killing machine never did. and that's the how you became dion's beloved doll.
and that news attracted the unwanted attention of his siblings.
yet, dion didn't care. he never cared.
the only thing on his mind right now was to satisfy his curiosities about you.
for someone who was known for being a killing machine, dion was gentle. atleast that's how you see him. helping you on taking bath, making sure that you were properly taken care of.
he made sure to do those things by himself since dion doesn't have any servants. and he will never asked for any servants after the countless attempts of taking his life by his previous servants.
but why does he was taking care of you again? was it because he wanted to take care of you? of course not. because he wants you to depend on him.
and dion even go far on removing your chains and changing the bandage around your eye everyday.
but there was one thing dion made clear to you. never leave his room. because according to him, it was dangerous. which is true. but there is also another reason that he never tell you.
and that is— he never want anyone to lay their hand on you. not roxana, jeremy, his mother, his father, nor his siblings. because the moment his father gave you to him, you were already his.
as a yandere, dion was possessive and territorial. this guy will even go far and carving his name on your pretty skin if it is needed.
but there's no need to go far when you're already listening well to him. and besides, he can tell it clearly that you, his beloved doll— was clearly falling for him.
and did i forgot to tell you that after he got you from his father. he always made sure to finish any missions that he got from his father the day he gave it to him and go home immediately?
it was kind of exhilarating for dion to have someone waiting for him.
but one day, by the time he came back. along with the dress that he knew that would look good on you.
he found you, on his room. coughing blood— your blood streaming from your ears, nose and even the bandage around your eyes were bloodied.
then he realized, someone touched you. someone dared to poison you. and dion lost his mind— which is unusual since dion never thought that he would care for you to the point that he would kill for you.
lant never said anything. he just let his favorite son tortured the person who poisoned you. he just let him wander to the estate bloodied as he goes back to his room, to you.
don't worry, it'll be alright. dion is here, so— focus on recovering, okay, his dearest doll?
 ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄
“ so..... you want to play with magic that much, huh? ”
#manhwa x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere manhwa x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere manhwa#tw.yandere#tw. poisoning#tw. obsession#tw. torture#tw. blood#dion agriche x reader#happy 2k!#enjoyyyyyy!#tw. violence#tw.dark content
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A little game
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Yandere!king oc x fem!reader
Summary: Edmund going insane when he finds you hurt and unconscious and swears to kill everyone in town.
Warnigns: behading, insanity, blood, guns, abuse, arson, everything like that
Word count: 2.3k
His eyes wander over your lifeless body. Numerous signs of brutal harm can be seen on your body. He can't even imagine what you've been put through, and when he tries he feels sick.
“Kill them all.”
His secretary widens his eyes.“But … your majesty-”
Edmund turns to him with eyes burning with rage. “Do I speak another language?!” he screams. “Kill them all! Every single one of them!”
Maids look at each other in fear, the secretary gulps. Edmund can feel his body tremble. He wants to grab the glass bottle on the bedside table, break it and plunge it deep into someone's, anyone's, heart. Wants to see blood, wants to kill.
His hammering heart thumps in his ears. A chanting “kill them all, make them pay” repeats in his head, sounding better and better each time.
It all had happened so quickly, and yet so slow. You were kidnapped on a town visit and hurt by someone, badly. A knight had found you after hours of search lifeless in the forest, body torn and beaten. Edmund had thought that you had died. The few moments of uncertainty had felt like hours. Millions of thoughts had passed through his head. What would he do if you were dead? Could he live without you? Why did it hurt so much? Why couldn't he breathe? Was he dead too? Why was he alone again?
But now he was only angry. Someone had hurt you … and the entire town hid the truth, protected the culprit. Edmund didn't care who had done what, everyone was guilty. They are no individuals, only a herd of characterless peasants. And he hates them all.
He wants to touch your face, but he doesn’t dare to. He’s scared that if he touches you, he’s going to kill you. His touch is deadly. You’re already so fragile, so vulnerable.
“Take families, one by one”, Edmund starts, still shaking, “and bring them here.”
“What are you going to do, your majesty?” the secretary asks, sounding worried.
“Give this castle a fucking paintjob.”
His hands are bloody — they’re never bloody. He never gets down and dirty, always watched. His heart is beating even quicker, but he can’t seem to get enough. He can’t get rid of the unimaginable anger he feels. It’s like a beast has taken control over his mind and soul and given him a new unclenched blood thirst. Every time he lets his fist make contact with a poor peasants body he sees your broken face in front of him. It makes him hit them more, with even more force. He enjoys it, he finds.
“Your majesty, please!” the man he’s holding begs. “Please spare me, I’m sorry!”
“What are you sorry for?” Edmund questions harshly. “What can your filthy little peasant heart be sorry for, huh? Was it you who abused my wife?!”
“No! No, your majesty, I didn’t-”
His voice echoes across the court yard. “Then who did?! Who was it?! Who are you covering up for?!”
Before he has the time to answer, Edmund has thrown the man against the castle’s wall with such force that he cracks his skull open on the harsh, sharp stones. Blood splatter. Edmund’s heavy breaths are enough to cause his head to spin. He runs a bloody hand through his black hair. Bodies are lined up against the castle’s walls, stacked on top of each other.
Edmund turns to the knights standing a few meters away from him.
“If no one fesses up I will kill the entire town!” he shouts. “Every single one!”
“Your majesty, if you kill everyone, who will you rule over?” a knight asks.
In a swift motion, Edmund grabs a gun from the nearest knight and shoots him.
“Does anyone else have idiotic questions?!” he screams, directing the gun around. “Huh?! Ask them now so we can get them over with!”
To show that he’s not kidding, he shoots a bullet straight up into the air. None of the knights answer. Edmund scoffs and throws the gun to the side. He catches a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the window and flinches. He didn’t need his mirror to let him know that he’s drenched in blood and sweat. The look inn his eyes is what is startled by. He looks … animalistic. There’s no humanity left in his ice blue eyes anymore. He can feel himself drift into insanity, but he can’t stop it — maybe he doesn't want to.
“Bring the next group”, he demands.
“They are fleeing into the woods, your majesty”, a knight says.
“Then stop them?!”
“How, your majesty?”
He thinks for a moment. Head spinning, heart thumping in his ears, tast of blood in his mouth.
“Burn it all down”, he decides. “Burn every possible way out. Burn them in, if necessary.”
The knights nod. Edmund turns back to the poor body on the bloody gravel and picks him up by the collar, carrying him to the others.
“Isn’t it pretty? The color?”
His secretary tilts his head as he studies the flames in the distance. “I suppose so, but the smell is God awful.”
“Smells like victory to me.”
Edmund turns away from the window, eyes darting to all the things scattered all over the floor. His office is near destroyed. Things lay broken everywhere after his tantrums. He used to value his materialistic obsessions highly, but now they’re not worth a dime to him. Nothing is. Only you. He has to avenge you rightfully.
“How is my darling doing?” he asks and gives the secretary a stern gaze. “You know to tell me the second she awakes, right? If you don’t, I will drag you out on the court yard and put you with the other bodies.”
“Of course, your majesty, I will come running right away”, the secretary answers. “You can rest assure. I won’t betray you. Besides, her skin is healing. You won’t have to see her grotesque marks.”
Edmund nods. “I want to see her now. To see if you are telling the truth.”
The secretary leads Edmund through the large, dark halls. The people passing him makes his blood boil. They haven’t done anything, but he’s ready to lash out in case anyone gives him a foul look. Anyone showing any signs of distrust need to be killed. Roughly. He will not be made a fool.
A maid opens the door to your shared chamber and Edmund walks over to the bed. For a few seconds, he doesn’t believe that it’s you sleeping under the white sheets. You look so awfully small in the big bed, so unbelievably broken. Your skin looks so weird compared to the white sheets … washed out, somehow. He hates it, absolutely despises it all.
Edmund sits down on the side of the bed and takes your hand in his, sighing heavily at the state of you. Seeing your frail figure makes him even madder. Why aren’t you waking up? What have that creature done to you to make you look like this? His secretary was right, however, you seem to be doing a bit better. Your body heals. So why aren’t you waking up?
“I will punish them”, he whispers and kisses your forehead. It must be one of the sweetest gestures he has done since you disappeared and came back in whatever state you are in now. “I promise. I love you so much, my darling, I will make them pay.”
The guillotine is working over time. The blade is covered in blood, heads everywhere. Edmund has realized that all people about to be beheaded has either of three possible reactions. Pleading and crying, begging for forgiveness, and emotionless and accepting. He likes to guess who will have what reaction, and when he guesses right he gives himself a clap on the shoulder. He’s standing on the balcony, leaning forward against the railing with his arms resting on it. Smiling. It’s all a big game for him. Like how hurting you and covering up the deed is a big joke to them. But now he’s the hunter, and they’re the pray. They are the punchline in his joke. Not the other way around. His blood boils when he thinks about what the ones hurting you must have been thinking while performing such a merciless act. Were they thinking about him, about how mad he would be? Thinking: “we will have caused a reaction to form in him but he will not know who have done it”, in that case they were wrong. Everyone is punished for their stupid game.
“Please, please!” a woman screams, about to be beheaded. “I know who it was!”
Edmund freezes.
“Wait!” he shouts to the man holding the rope controlling the blade.
Edmund hurries down to the court yard and walks over to the woman with her head in the locked hole. He grabs her chin roughly, trying to direct her head up without luck.
“Who was it?” Edmund spits. “Tell me their names.”
She seems to have lost all speaking ability when nearby Edmund. All color is drained off her face. She faints. Angrily, Edmund lets go of her chin, grabs the rope and lets the blade fall. Her head falls down on the gravel and rolls towards the others. No one says anything.
“Your majesty!” he hears his secretary shout. “The queen is awake!”
Edmund feels his entire body go numb. He spins around, looking at the secretary in the doorway with large, shocked eyes. He runs after.
You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake.
“Get out of my fucking way!” Edmund growls and shoved a maid into the wall when she tries opening the door for him.
You’re laying in the bed, but your eyes are open! Edmund runs over and throws himself at you, hugging you tightly. You start to cry the second he wraps his arms around you and brings your face into his shoulder. He can’t believe that he’s holding you again, to feel your body tremble under his fingertips. He wants to cry.
“It’s okay”, he whispers and caresses your hair as you sob against his neck. “Everything is okay, my dear. I’m here now, I will not let anything happen to you.”
He can feel his entire body relax. He has you back. Your shaking body feels so … alive.
“Does it hurt?” he asks.
You nod against his shoulder and try to pull back, out of his embrace. He doesn’t let you, he only moves you closer. What if you slip away when he lets you go?
“Not yet”, he whispers. “Stay with me a bit longer.”
His hands grab at you, trying to reassure himself that you are, indeed, alive.
When he does let you go, your eyes are red with tears. He puts his hand on your cheek, wiping your tears carefully with his thumb.
“I’m so sorry”, he mumbles and feels a stone in his throat. “I really am.”
“Your hand smells like blood …”, you whisper.
He becomes cold as your eyes start to widen in fear.
“No, no, no!” he says quickly and grabs your face in his hands. “I will stop. Is that what you want? Hm? I-I’ll stop, I’ll show mercy to the ones left if you just give me the name of who … who hurt you. Okay? Please?
The name you give is one he’s familiar with. It’s suddenly clear why everyone wanted to shield the guilty one. His father is one of the richest men in the town. Edmund has yet to kill him.
“I will take care of him”, he says. “Everything he did to you, I will do to him. I promise. Not more, not less.”
Your shaking hand takes his. Edmund gulps and lifts your intertwined to his lips and kisses.
“I love you”, he whispers.
“What is that?” you ask and point towards the forest.”Why is it so black?”
Edmund hesitates and hugs your other hand tighter. They have cleaned the entire court yard and scrubbed the walls so that you won’t have to see any of the horror that has occurred while you were unconscious, but he can’t replace the forest with a new one.
“A wildfire happened while you were unconscious”, he lies. “It was just fixed. Nothing to worry about.”
He continues to walk with you, hand in hand, through the large corridors. He’s on his way down to the dungeon where a certain someone is waiting for him. Edmund’s hands itch when he thinks about what he’s going to do to him. He can’t wait.
You suddenly hug him. He flinches, but is quick to wrap his arms around you, to secure you against his body. You fit so well against him
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing”, you say, sounding shy. “Thank you for saving me. I think that I would be dead without you.”
“I would kill everyone in this world for you. You know that.”
But hearing you say ‘thank you’ to him, after everything hes done for — and towards — you causes his stomach to to fill with butterflies. He really would kill everyone for you. Over and over again.
“I’ll have to leave you here”, he says as you reach the stairs down to the dungeon. “I have something to do. Will you wait for me here?”
“What are you going to do?” you ask hesitantly.
Edmund smiles, showing off his teeth. “Play.”
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere drabbles#yandere oc x you#yandere oc x reader#yandere fics#yandere stories#female reader#yandere king#yandere oneshot
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The Endless Are Not Their Opposite--They Only Define It
I read quite often, on here and elsewhere, that the Endless are also their opposite (@tickldpnk8 and I were just talking about an interesting thread on Reddit), so I just decided to speed-complete this one and get it out of my drafts before it dies in there (so not as much in-depth as originally planned, but sometimes, you just need to run with it 🤣).
The Endless are not their opposite. They define it. It’s a (in my mind, and I’d love to hear what you think) massive difference. And they define their opposite by their absence. If they truly were their opposite, it would give very different meaning to canon, and if we were to do so, a lot of it wouldn't make sense in my view.
Dream is not also reality. He defines it. He is, and forever will be, unreality. It is his absence that defines reality. A dream that becomes real isn't a dream anymore--it's real. That’s the main reason why pulling the ship into reality in Overture weakens him. If he were reality, he could have just snapped his fingers and make it happen. If he were reality, a lot of his problems wouldn't be... well, problems. The fact he is (a) D/dream is pretty much why all his relationships are doomed to fail. Dreams don't last. Dreams are forever strange and can't be truly known.
Delirium is not also sanity/clarity. She defines it through her absence. And when she pulls herself together like in Brief Lives, it hurts her "muchly". It is immeasurable pain for her because it is what she is not and cannot be for any extended period of time without hurting herself.
Despair is not also hope. She defines it via her absence. As long as you hope, you don’t despair. If Despair were also hope, we would not have 6 issues of Overture very clearly showing us who and what H/hope is. If Despair were also hope, we wouldn't need a little girl called Hope reach out her hand and touch Dream—he would have a sister who could do it. But the only time Despair shows up for him, so to speak, is after he killed Orpheus—make of that what you will.
Death is not also life. She defines it. The fact that she is there at your beginning does not mean she is the one who gives you life. She is there so you will remember her, always (and especially when she takes your hand), hence you will cherish life. She does not directly give life to immortals either--they are immortal because of her absence, because she withholds her gift, like she does with Orpheus and Hob (the Eblis-situation has nothing to do with anything in my mind and is linked to a funeral rite, and we are clearly told it is not something she usually does [“it’s been so long”], or is remotely comfortable doing. It is just that she is the Endless that is most life-adjacent and hence the one who will have to do it. Just like Dream is the most reality-adjacent and hence the one who has to pull the ship).
Destruction is not also creation. He defines it. He is what gives us the blank slate, he is what makes creation possible, he is what starts the cycle and ends it, but he is not creation himself. Keeping on destroying makes creation impossible. There needs to be a pause, a break for creation to come to fruition—the absence of destruction. If he were also creation, he wouldn't create so badly (to the extent that it is canonically turned into a running gag), and being around him and seeking him out wouldn't be an issue. But it is.
Desire is not also hatred (I’m still not sure if hatred is really the opposite of desire, but I’ll run with it because that’s what Gaiman chose). They define it via their absence. You know how Dream doesn’t want Desire in his life anymore after one major spat (whether he had reason to or overreacted isn’t really the issue). And what feelings are often left in the absence of Desire? And what does Desire feel and gets themselves tangled up in because they are pushed away and are basically not acknowledged/desired by their own sibling despite constantly trying to show him they are important (desire is not just a sexual thing, people, get your mind out of the gutter 🤣)? Yeah, about that one… There is definitely a different type of enmeshment here which sometimes seems a bit plot-hole-y to me, but I think that might be down to the fact that Desire is the chosen antagonist (and even that, only to a degree until they aren’t). Even so, it still makes sense.
Destiny is not also freedom. He is the absence of it. All paths lead to the same end. Or a decision you make was the decision you were going to make all along, and what looks like a different ending was the ending that would have happened anyway. And even if you choose, the book will start to make that choice destiny again. Only Delirium knows what’s not in his book, and in this universe, the only true freedom is not bound by any rules, logic or sanity…
#the sandman#sandman#dream of the endless#death of the endless#the sandman comics#sandman meta#sandman bookclub#desire of the endless#delirium of the endless#despair of the endless#destruction of the endless#destiny of the endless#sandman spoilers
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the lesson of the moth
by Don Marquis
i was talking to a moth the other evening he was trying to break into an electric light bulb and fry himself on the wires
why do you fellows pull this stunt i asked him because it is the conventional thing for moths or why if that had been an uncovered candle instead of an electric light bulb you would now be a small unsightly cinder have you no sense
plenty of it he answered but at times we get tired of using it we get bored with the routine and crave beauty and excitement fire is beautiful and we know that if we get too close it will kill us but what does that matter it is better to be happy for a moment and be burned up with beauty than to live a long time and be bored all the while so we wad all our life up into one little roll and then we shoot the roll that is what life is for it is better to be a part of beauty for one instant and then cease to exist than to exist forever and never be a part of beauty our attitude toward life is come easy go easy we are like human beings used to be before they became too civilized to enjoy themselves
and before i could argue him out of his philosophy he went and immolated himself on a patent cigar lighter i do not agree with him myself i would rather have half the happiness and twice the longevity
but at the same time i wish there was something i wanted as badly as he wanted to fry himself
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Yan jock body swaps with Femboy cheerleader...
What.... happened?...
The last thing he remembers is returning home after practice- That's not right... The last thing he actually recalls is the distant memory of his crush's sweet smile as he drifted off to sleep. The best part of practice was his cheerleader wishing him a safe trip home... Ugh... His head... It's killing him. Why does his body feel so.... light too?
The jock crawls out of bed, standing before the mirror by his bed. Strange... He doesn't remember placing one in that spot. He peers at his reflection - color draining from that pretty face he treasured so dearly.
That pretty skin... Those gorgeous lips.... Those curves....
Y...Y/n?!?
That mirror, this room, this body- It's yours, all yours. What's going on? Is this a dream? Fully awake and aware, the jock becomes acutely conscious of the nightgown he's in. A flowing oversized tee-shirt stopping at the slip of his plush thighs... Your thighs... Wait, this shirt... It's his old jersey that he gave you.. You actually kept it? How many other gifts of his had you kept? It couldn't hurt to check around... It'd probably be fine if he checked what you had on underneath too... Dream or not, it's his body for now...
He knows it's wrong.... but the silk mesh between his...your legs is begging to be touched. You've probably got tons of cute outfits in your closet tucked away for the right occasion. He's hard just thinking about it...thoughts and urges transferred over to the body he's now in. He wants to touch you... himself so badly. It's fine if it's only a quick peek, right? He's nearly seen what's underneath already with how frequently your skirt rides up your backside during your performances. The jock writhes in discomfort as his panties grow tighter. How on earth did you manage an erection in these?-
Before he's able to do anything in your body, the phone on the nightstand rings. He answers.
"H...hello? Is um....is Y/n there?"
The voice is easily recognizable, but the timidity in his own voice reminds of a certain someone.
"Y/n, here~ May I ask who's speaking?"
#yandere jock#Femboy reader#cheerleader reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere oc#yandere insert#yandere blurb#male yandere#yandere imagines#suggestive#male reader
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What gets me the most about the wwdits finale is that while Nandor didn't know that Guillermo had Derek turn him into a vampire, he literally knew everything else.
He knew that the Van Helsing blood would fight the vampire cells and he knew that the only way to fix that was to drink human blood. He knew that Guillermo wouldn't do well as a vampire, at least that he wasn't ready and he didn't even hesitate to try and fix it for him. He instantly reached for the Djinn, and when that didn't work, he very intelligently made up a vampire tradition that would allow Guillermo to have a choice.
And when Guillermo couldn't go through with what was required to make that choice, Nandor essentially said, I know you. I know you can't kill him, not like this, and I know you want me to do it for you because you need me to do it for you.
And after it's done, Nandor tells him he knows it was hard but he thinks Guillermo made the right decision for himself. It's been 13 years, but he isn't ready. And then Nandor walks away to give Guillermo the space he needs to process all of that.
In this episode Nandor proved beyond all doubt that he is the smartest vampire here. He's the oldest and he's not been careless about his choices with Guillermo. He kept telling him that "He was getting around to it." But that was clearly to avoid saying that Guillermo wasn't ready yet.
And despite that, he's clearly been thinking about it. That, hey, when I do eventually turn him, because we both want that (Nandor doesn't want to lose Guillermo to old age and Guillermo does ultimately want to be a vampire), I'm gonna have to figure out how to combat the Van Helsing blood with the vampire cells.
And when it came down to it, he knew just what to do to make Guillermo human again. He knew that killing Derek would only age Guillermo by a month, not kill him.
Nandor has been paying attention this whole time. He's smart. He knows a lot more than he ever let onto before. And despite his anger at first, he did the kind thing.
I look forward to where this relationship goes from here. Because it isn't going back to how it was before. Guillermo can't just go back to being a frustrated familiar. Nandor can't go back to pretending his protectiveness is dismissal. Nandor proved here just how much he cares by throwing out all vampire tradition (as he's done before, but never like this). And Guillermo was at the mercy of a community he so desperately wanted to join but simply couldn't do it.
I don't know who they are after this, but I hope it's more honest and emotional. I hope they actually talk about what it is to be a vampire, and how does Nandor do it. I hope they talk about why Guillermo wants this so badly. I want them to talk about why does Guillermo want this with Nandor so badly, because it's clear to everyone this is more than a regular familiar and master relationship. I want them to talk about what Nandor is hoping for after all of this. To know that Guillermo isn't ready, and maybe he'll never be ready, but he doesn't want to lose him. So what does he want?
They subverted all the tropes so hard that I genuinely don't know where we go from here. Somewhere new, I suppose. What a thrill
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You Know My Desires
Kinktober Day 1: Azriel x Reader [Wingplay]
Summary: Azriel is a jealous male, and you know just how to calm him down.
Warnings: Smut, wingplay, jealousy, possessiveness, dom/sub dynamics.
Word Count: 2,892
Notes: Alrighty, let’s do this!
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He’s trapped.
Boots rooted to the unusually pristine floors of the Court of Nightmares ballroom. Body rigid and frozen, nearly vibrating with rage. His wings ache from being held taut, and his teeth are on the verge of cracking from how tightly set his jaw is.
If he moves, this entire sub-court will perish.
A patron indulging on the gluts of the party—rich, fae wine and hor d'oeuvres paired with teasing touches and lew moans—stumbles nearby, her steps faltering as she passes through the bubble of his anger. Azriel watches her from his peripherals as she locks up, shivering as if his shadows are raking their way down her spine. His hazel glare stays locked somewhere across the dance floor.
Right to where you’re dancing with him.
Not even the fire that had scorched his hands when he was young hurt as badly as watching this bastard twirl you around the ballroom.
Rasor’s grin is a wicked one. It’s twinged with secrets and chaos that Azriel doesn’t like; pale, gray eyes alight with mischief and lust. He hates the male leading you in this less than formal dance. Of course he does—he knows every single creature lurking at this unnecessary party. Rasor is a suck up, a male who gets off on trying to be like his High Lord, snarky and silver-tongued.
He is a failure at even that.
Azriel fantasizes about killing him for the way that his hands are on you. One, settled so low on your hip it’s nearly on your ass, the other clutching yours tightly as he guides you gracefully across the floor.
Everyone’s attention is on the two of you and it stings. If he knew anything other than hundreds of ways to torture a male for touching what is his, he might have asked you to dance. The shadowy corner of the room provides the darkness he requires to seethe like the fucking pathetic male he is.
You need to calm down, Rhysand says gently within his mind. Azriel desperately wants to roll his eyes at the High Lords warning, to cut a glare to where he’s lounging on his throne, but his mind doesn’t allow him to let his gaze stray from you for even a moment. Or everyone’s going to wonder why the ballroom is pitched in darkness. And I can only cover for so long.
Immediately, Azriel reels his shadows back. He watches the way your brows furrow and cast over Rasor’s shoulder when he pulls you against his chest in a move that makes even the fae fucking in the corner gape in awe. You’re seeking him out, wondering if he’s reigned his shadows back because he’s left.
No. He would never leave you.
I hate this, is all Azriel replies, but he means much more than that.
I need her for a bit longer, Rhysand says, and Azriel can feel that violet gaze on him, even if he’s shrouded in darkness. Do I need to have Cassian remove you?
Azriel wants to fight. He wants to launch himself across the ballroom and land a killing blow to your dance partner. No—he wants to paralyze the male and then take you to the floor and fuck you, claim you, mark you with his hands, his teeth, his cum, until every last patron knows who you belong to.
He takes a breath but it’s a struggle.
No.
But you laugh at something Rasor says and Azriel sees red.
His shadows consume him, moving him from his spot in the corner of the room to the middle of the dance floor.
A female shrieks at his sudden appearance but he doesn’t care, baring his teeth when her partner runs into his side. He’s behind you, catching you around the waist mid-twirl. Your dress is still the silky smooth it was when he caressed your thighs and had taken you before you left, his cum leaking down the insides of your thighs masked by the dark fabric. He had wanted to lap the mixture of both of your orgasms from your legs like the Godly ichor it was, but instead he’d asked you to let it dry, a warning to any male who’d try to make their move on what’s his.
Rasor either hadn’t taken the hint or he’d ignored it completely, a dangerous act, and one Azriel will kill over.
The shadowsinger swears he can feel the other male’s fingerprints on your hips, and he doesn’t like it.
Not. One. Bit.
Your gasp is soft as Azriel’s hands gently but possessively wrap around you. It makes his cock twitch in his leathers. The way that your hands find his, clutching them tightly as he moves you makes him preen on the inside, his face a solid mask of steel.
Rasor looks less than pleased to have his dancing partner taken from him. His eerie gray eyes flicker over to where the High Lord has sat up in his throne. Azriel doesn’t like that, fighting the urge to strike. Rhysand pounds on the solid walls of shadow in his mind but Azriel doesn’t answer the demand. He doesn’t care if he’s not invited to the next ball, he’ll kill Rasor before then so there’s no chance of him getting his hands on you again.
As badly as he wants to growl ‘mine’ to the still-staring male, Azriel allows his shadows to twine around the both of you in an intricate manner that has some of the patrons flushing. His pets put on an extravagant show as they twist and turn around you, swallowing you to take you from this plain to the next, and Azriel grins like a feral beast, meeting the eyes of the wretched male who had taken you from him tonight, before the darkness consumes you both.
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“What was that?” you ask, annoyance lacing your tone. You hadn’t finished your mission—hadn’t schmoozed Rasor enough to slip you the information your High Lord desired. No, Azriel had appeared—though you hadn’t been surprised, you could feel his anger writhing through the room like a beast stalking its prey—before he had stolen you away from the party, depositing you back in your shared chambers.
Azriel stares. His demeanor is calm, but his hazel eyes are brimming with fury. You cross your arms, looking right back. A challenge.
“You laughed at something he said.” It sounds silly now that he says it aloud, but it irks him, your eyes lighting and that sweet sound falling from your gorgeous lips because of another male. A more disgusting male. A more untrustworthy male.
“I didn’t mean to,” you reply, a touch softer. You tug on the bond tethering your souls together, but Azriel does not react.
“It was no accident.”
“You know my desires,” is your simple answer. And with it, you tug on the bond again, harder this time, watching how Azriel sways slightly towards you, the way that his throat bobs. A teasing smile threatens to stretch your lips, but instead you bite at your lip, a taunt. “Do you want me to show you?”
There is no waiting for his answer. You slide the shoulders of your dress off, heat pooling between your legs from his heated stare alone. Your nipples tighten as Azriel follows the movements of your manicured nails, the salacious way your body writhes as the buttery fabric slips down your body. Your eyes flutter shut and your lips part in a gasp as the dress slides across your sensitive breasts.
Azriel closes the distance in one step but your hand flies out, planting right over his pounding heart to stop him in his tracks.
“No,” you whisper as his brows pull tight. “I want to show you.” Punish him, you mean, for ruining your mission.
He grunts roughly, shaking his wings out to dispel some of the frenetic energy rushing through his veins. Your eyes catch on them, and it gives you an idea. Your heart beats with desire, right in time with your mates.
Stepping forward, you help him out of his leathers. Your movements are slow, a tease of your fingertips across his chest as you reach around him to undo the buttons of his shirt. Azriel growls low as you intentionally brush across the ridges of his wings, and his large hands come to plant themselves on your hips, steadying you so that you don’t touch them again.
You look up at him through lowered lashes, licking over your lips seductively. Your mate tracks the motion, and his arms tremble with the effort to keep his hands still instead of dipping down between your thighs where your arousal calls to him.
“Sorry,” you whisper against his lips, and when he closes the distance you pull away, kneeling in front of him.
Gods, do you look fucking delicious on your knees for him like that. Staring up at him with wide eyes and a sinful smile on your lips. You look like you're two seconds away from taking out his length to lick down his shaft and shove him down your throat, and he can’t wait.
He stays silent, patient as you lean forward to mouth at the fabric keeping his throbbing cock contained. Every breath is a shudder, and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, empty by his sides. He wants to bury them into your hair and guide your head down his cock, but you’ve said that you want to touch him, and until you say otherwise, he will obey.
Azriel’s cock springs free as you pull the leathers from his legs. His glorious, thick thighs on display, packed deep with muscle. You’re soaked, and the urge to grind yourself against him hits full force. Azriel steps out of his trousers and you almost whimper at the sight of his cock pulling away from you, but you remind yourself that you have ulterior motives here.
Your mate helps you to your feet upon your request, and then you’re throwing your arms around his shoulders and kissing him deeply. Distracting him is what you’re doing. Azriel’s hands find your waist and hold you tight, lifting you into his arms with an ease that makes your heart skip. He’s thoroughly occupied with touching your exposed skin and dipping his tongue into your mouth, and then you strike, trailing your fingers across the tips of his wings again.
Instead of ripping his mouth from yours in irritation, Azriel presses further into you, tasting you deep with a noise that you take as approval. Again, you gently finger over the rugged skin of his wings, dipping lower as he raises them for you to touch.
They’re silky and soft, raised in places where they’d been wounded, but even the silvery scars make him shudder with pleasure. He bites your lower lip, grunting and bucking his hips into yours when you breeze over one of the more sensitive parts of him.
“Bed,” you gasp against his mouth, and he has no complaints.
You seem more than eager, tugging on him with both hands and bond, so Azriel lays himself on the bed, keeping you flush to his chest while he settles.
It’s perfect for what you want to do.
Azriel bucks but you pull your hips away from his. He groans your name, hands sliding down your sides to curl around your waist and tug you back into his body, but you’re not having it, no matter how much your body craves to be against his.
You chide, “I want to touch, Az, remember?”
He sighs in frustration. He loves when your hands are all over him, needy and desperate, stroking his cock and leaving marks across his chest, but right now, still annoyed with Rasor and Rhysand and the entirety of the Court of Nightmares, all Azriel wants to do is fill you with his seed until he owns you and you’re screaming his name.
You peck him on the mouth once, twice, pressing your chest flat against his. You shiver at the touch of your hardened nipples against the warmth of his body, but you keep your hips high, hovering above his cock. You can feel the heat it’s giving off, the throbbing uncomfortableness that’s shared down the bond with you, like you might take pity on him and sink down on it.
You won’t.
Instead, you spread his arms wide, tracing the dips and curves of his musculature until your fingers slip off and onto his wings, spread flat against the bed.
Azriel jumps. Your name is a low warning from his mouth but he doesn’t have the time to say anything else because you’re scratching lightly down the softness of his wings and his words break off into a breathy moan.
“Fuck, baby.”
And you know he likes it, no matter how much he warns you to stay away. You can feel the heat blooming in your own gut, mirror to his emotions that are drifting down the bond. It feels good, albeit dulled because you’re not him, but it makes your cunt wetter, dripping onto his cock below.
“You feel so good,” you murmur, kissing along his neck. It’s exposed from the way that his head is thrown back at the sensations wracking his body from your touch, and you take full advantage, marking him in the way that he wants to claim you.
“I’d feel even better inside of you,” he curses when you swirl your fingers around the base of his talons, followed by spreading your palms wide and dragging them across the velvety body of his wings again.
“We’ll get there, Az. Soon,” you respond, peeling your torso from his. His hands steel themselves to your hips. He’s afraid that you’re pulling away completely when actually, you’re leaning over one of his wings and brushing your mouth against it.
Your lips on his wings feel like your mouth on his cock—wet, warm, and sensitive. Your touch is gentle, a soft scrape of your nails against the thin skin has him pressing his head further into the pillows, biting through his lip to keep himself from cumming.
The taste of his blood only adds to his arousal.
His body shakes, hands planted so firmly on your hips as you hover above his aching cock that you know he’s leaving bruises. You don’t care, not because he ruined your assignment from the High Lord, but because he is yours just as much as you are his, and you were made to be marked by him.
“If I could make your cum stain my skin, I would,” you whisper against the flesh of his wing. You know he’s heard you because his hips buck higher, seeking out yours, and the debauched moan that slips from his mouth is a song to your soul. “So everyone knows that I am yours, Azriel.”
He cums with a noise that he’s not all too proud of, but his mind is muddled and he’s seeing stars. He spurts hot and white, coating the inside of your thighs and you quake when it splatters on your opening, legs nearly giving out from the feeling alone.
You work him through it, though it feels even more tortuous now, because his wings are sensitive. Your fingers trace pretty lines across the expanse of the leathery skin, tongue lapping across raised scars and dips that have never been touched, so sensitive that he chokes back a whimper, cock twitching, trying to rise again.
It’s as if you’re on top of the world, making your mate cum without touching his raging cock. It’s neglected, red at the tip and weeping still as you slowly retract your touch from his wings. His hands are slack against your waist but his body is taut, rock solid, and there’s a full body blush creeping from his chest and up his neck, embarrassed that he’s cum from your mouth on his wings alone, even if they are the most sensitive part of an Illyrian male.
But you’re beaming, gaze heavy and hot, aroused at the sight of him undone beneath you. Your cunt clenches with need. Your thighs are soaked and for a fleeting second you regret letting him cum because you need his cock filling you up right this very second or else.
Azriel senses it, as a good mate does. His fingers dig into your hips again before one releases you. He takes his cock in hand, giving it a few rough tugs before guiding you lower. Your head falls back on your shoulders at the feeling of his cum-coated cock nestled against your entrance. Your entire body shudders, but you force yourself to look at your mate, a questioning look in your eyes.
“I need you again,” his voice is rough, strained. Azriel’s cock is sensitive but it’s already filling up again at the touch of your cunt alone. It will be a bit painful until he’s fully erect again, but it won’t be long because you are the most beautiful female he’s ever seen, and your cunt is otherworldly. He’s going to keep you here all night, he decides, and he will take you until the both of you are cum drunk and unable to move. His hazel eyes grow a shade darker at the thought. “Now be a good girl and ride it.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
Kinktober Taglist: @bunnymallowo
#azriel x reader#azriel smut#azriel wingplay#azsazz#azsazz kinktober 2023#acotar#acomaf#acowar#azriel/reader
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