#as well as a post-canon event possession

[floydleart]

Xephos Scar Chart

[torawro]

I’D DIE FOR YOU (AND I HAVE). ( s.a. )

sousuke aizen & black!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, blank and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine her that way. using this map of the seireitei as a reference (i searched high and low for a consistent accurate one but it was hard). the first half is set pre-ryoka invasion / pre-soul society arc. the second half is aizen-centric (from his pov told from the 3rd person) and set post-tybw arc, years after he was sealed away in mugen, also including mention of events from vol. 1 of can't fear your own world (a light novel that's post-tybw & can be considered canonical); so all this being said: SPOILERS i guess???? of course you're welcome to read if you don't care about spoilers! somewhat based on 'die for you' by the weeknd & even more loosely based on 'dark red' by steve lacy. contains themes of heavy-ish angst, existential crises (?) & inner emotional turmoil within reader + aizen (separately). descriptions of character death, blood and violence. descriptions of manipulation/mind games. aizen is an unkind man. proofread (i did my best).

word count ━━ 11k

notes ━━ ! the way this fic was supposed to finished a month ago...but life once more gets in my way. and the way that it's this long....i anticipated the max being 10k but i greatly underestimated how long it would take to flesh out my idea. anywho i'm somewhat reentering my bleach era again. i’m not sure what it is but character analyses in the form of fanfiction is my jam rn like i really enjoyed writing this (i got tired of the length by like... 7k words lmao) but i like how this turned out. i've watched & read quite a bit of content that provide explanations as to why aizen is the way he is so i wanted to try my own portrayal of that in the context of canonical events. how i characterized him here is partially inspired by a fic i read about him last year so shout out to them for their support :D i hope i've depicted and humanized aizen well ♡. reblogs + commentary are heavily appreciated!!!!!

THE PAD OF YOUR THUMB SLOWLY glided against your bottom lip, the lingering aftertaste of jasmine tea still on its surface and on your breath. The absentminded motion of your thumb caressing your mouth, as if in deep contemplation, continued as you stared at the clock hanging on the wall above you.

It was past eleven, and the midnight hour only continued to draw near as time sustained its temporal march. And there you sat at your desk, floating in the limbo of your mind that was filled with hesitancy and admittedly, budding anticipation.

Your gaze lowered to the now empty porcelain cup, nothing remaining of its contents except the shriveled remnants of herbs and a few wayward drops of the brew.

Your senior comrade, captain Sōsuke Aizen, was correct in his prediction that you'd take a liking to its floral and delicate taste when he gifted you a jar full of the jasmine tea leaves as well as other ingredients.

The captain of Squad 5 seemed to be correct about a lot of things.

His intelligence and foresight, along with his kind and politely witty disposition, were qualities that you found somewhat charming, and gradually drew you closer to him.

Being the current third seat of the 9th company, your barracks and those of squad 5's were relatively close to each other's, so often you'd catch glimpses of and run into Captain Aizen on a pretty normal basis. Over the years, the conversations that bounced between the two of you expanded past the realm of formalities between a higher and lower ranking officer, and instead ranged in territories from literature, to art, to food & drink, and even to the politics of the government for which they were soldiers for.

Sometimes, you found it hard to believe that you managed to befriend a man like him. A man who seems to have mastered the balance between being a gentle soul, helpful to others, but also possessed enough refined power and skills to be named a captain within the Gotei 13.

Especially a man who wasn’t even of your own squad.

Despite the increasingly friendly relations and generally pleasant conversation, there were few moments where Aizen's words didn't feel quite. . . . real━ he didn't feel real. He spoke eloquently, often relying on figurative language to further illustrate his point and to breathe meaning into seemingly plain and meaningless words. But at times those words, his tone felt stained; stained with some substance or color you couldn't quite place. An enigmatic façade was painted over his speech, and it took too much mental capacity to try and find your own meaning in it.

So you'd often brush it off. Your over-reliance on your own reasoning that 'you weren’t able to come to a conclusion because there is no problem a conclusion could be generated from' successfully quieted your mind’s voice. You'd also frequently blame exhaustion, or your newfound hobby of watching human psychological crime shows during your off days for these subconscious ideas you had.

But you feared that the request Aizen made of you yesterday, the source of your current predicament, couldn't be blamed on any of those things. You looked at the clock again before returning to stare at your empty tea cup. For what reason could Sōsuke Aizen wish to meet you outside of the 1st division barracks? Specifically at this hour? You immediately thought of his question as uncharacteristic of him but prevented yourself from jumping to any further conclusions.

Aizen was a reasonable man, and you were sure there was a reasonable explanation.

With a final sigh of acquiescence, you stood up from your sitting position to retie your yukata before slipping a thicker, dark colored haori on top. You were unsure how cold it was this late at night or how long you'd be out, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

You paused for a moment, glancing longingly at your vanity mirror a few times, clearly torn between a decision, before giving in with a soft groan. Grabbing your favorite perfume, you quickly spritzed the spray onto both your inner wrists, either sides of your neck, and stray areas on your clothes. You’d proceed to make sure your hair was in order and your lips were as moisturized and glossy as a pair of tear-filled eyes before making your way to the door and slipping on your sandals.

Meeting with a captain— with Aizen of all people— in the dead of night resembled too closely to forbidden lovers rendezvousing under a fruit tree to fulfill their desires of embracing one another, with no one but the moon as their witness. The comparison alone caused the apples of your cheeks to burst aflame with embarrassment, and you lightly chastised yourself for even indulging in such an inappropriate train of thought. Such a scenario seemed far too deluded to even be considered ‘wishful thinking’.

But those delusions still seemed to make more sense than whatever other conclusion you have yet to reach.

Making your way out of your personal quarters, you activated your shunpo technique, stealthily hopping from one rooftop to the other in an effort to make it to Squad 1 barracks quicker.

After several minutes, your mind mostly engulfed with the 'what if's', the soles of your sandals finally touched ground, and you stood a few feet away from the massive walls and bridges that connected to and from the barracks. Even at night you were able to make out the bold-printed kanji for the number 1 that was painted on the building.

When you arrived, even from a nearby rooftop, you didn't see anyone around. Feelings of confusion and worry began to creep up and flicker to life in your mind.

But, as if your thoughts were as audible, you felt a light breeze of wind behind you, a familiar sound that indicated someone had made their presence known.

Startled, you reflexively reached for your zanpakuto, when you remembered that you hadn't even brought it with you. It still laid against the wall near your bed, just where you placed it earlier when you were relieved of your duties for the day.

You didn't think you needed it necessarily if you were just going to meet with Aizen, hence why taking it with you slipped your mind.

The flickers of concern were swiftly extinguished as your brain caught up with your body upon realizing who just appeared. A relieved sigh left your lips, a breath of air that seemed to release all the tension that had a grip on your heart and wound tight within your muscles. "Ah! Good evening Captain Aizen. You caught me off guard for a moment there."

"My apologies, that was not at all my intention." The Fifth Division Captain sported a dark colored scarf, his long captain's coat and the standard shihakushō all Gotei officers were supposed to wear. In the sash around his waist resided his own sheathed zanpakuto. His tawny hair maintained its usual part but looked slightly tousled, yet still remaining so in a meticulous fashion that made it look intentional.

The state of his hair alone, and his current facial expression made Aizen look more . . . approachable if that’s how you were to describe it. There was a glint in his eyes that you had seldom seen before.

"Thank you, for making your way down here to accommodate my rather. . . . atypical request. I again extend my apologies if I have inconvenienced you in any way."

You shook your head in reply, "It's alright, I wasn't doing anything too important anyway. Just having a cup of tea and delighting myself in a book before bed."

You glanced downwards at the foot or so of space that was wedged in between the two of you. You forced away the murmurs of your lingering thoughts that took note of how the moonlight and shadows danced across the surface of Aizen's face just right, and emphasized his decidedly handsome features.

"But having a complete and good night's rest is important to be fully functional in all areas of one's performance. Wouldn't you agree?"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes, I do agree with that sentiment."

Aizen all but hummed in acknowledgement, letting a moment of silence fill the air before speaking again.

"Shall we be on our way?"

You nodded in agreement, following him as the both of you walked about the First Division grounds. From what you could tell based on your position, your aimless nightly stroll drew you closer to where Sokyoku Hill was located. The area became increasingly more grassy and contained less buildings.

Although Squad 1 grounds weren't terribly far from either of your barracks, you still weren't sure as to why Captain Aizen wished to meet out here. Initially you thought that perhaps he was just fond of this particular scenery, but really it could have been anything.

But still, you believed Aizen always had a purpose for everything he did.

After several moments, his warm voice replaced the evening silence, vocalizing your current thoughts. “I assume you are contemplating why it is I have asked you here, and I’m afraid the reason is quite benign. Truthfully, I just wished for your company. I often go on night walks to clear my head after a long day and thought I might invite you to join me this time, and have a conversation with each other."

Your brows shifted upwards, for that was not quite the answer you were expecting. It seemed too . . . simple. “Really? You just . . . wanted to talk with me? Plainly?”

The Squad 5 captain let out a short, soft laugh at the disbelief that was painted on your face. There was an expression of fondness present in his eyes and in the light smile he offered you. “Yes, exactly. I quite enjoy our discussions actually, they’re intellectually stimulating and relatively pleasant. You crossed my mind, and before yesterday, it has been quite some time since we’ve had the opportunity to unwind and talk.”

You hummed an mhmm in agreement, tearing your eyes away from Aizen’s side profile in favor of the hem of his captain’s haori, watching how it danced in the soft breeze. It seemed to be less distracting than the way Aizen peered down at you from time to time.

"I see. I am. . . . truly flattered by your words, Captain Aizen; you're too kind. Forgive me for asking but," you took longer strides so that you could fall into step next to him━ as if to speak to him more directly, "Why at this time? To talk with me, I mean. It couldn't wait until more . . . . . conventional hours?"

He chuckled again, and answered as smoothly as if he were awaiting you to ask him that. "Unfortunately, today's tasks ran a little long today, so I had to stay at my office later than usual." The spectacled man paused for a moment, before setting his soft gaze on you, "And besides, that completely defeats the purpose of inviting you on a night stroll, doesn't it?"

You ignored the heat flaring up in your cheeks again. Your mind refused to move past the fact that you had crossed Sōsuke Aizen's mind enough times━ or the times that he thought about you were significant enough━ and highly enough to invite you into his realm and indulge in these moments with him, when he very much could have done that alone.

A tender smile appeared on your lips, more towards yourself than the man next to you. "I. . . suppose it does."

The ashen-white moon only rose higher in the sky, providing an ambiance of tranquility as the both of you talked about whatever crossed the surface of your minds. Other times, the stillness of the night did the talking, and you'd listen to the leaves, and the wind, and the crickets sing together in harmony. Gradually as you walked and the beaten path grew more narrow, your figures drew closer together, until you could feel the long sleeves of his haori brush against your own.

You hadn't noticed that the two of you eventually stopped walking and paused under a tree until Aizen struck up conversation once more. When he called out your name in that gentle, velvety voice, you swore your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The sound of your name rolled of his tongue so smoothly, the desire to hear it again grew within you.

"Uh━ yes, Captain Aizen?"

"Are you satisfied with way things are at the moment?"

You stood next to him, perplexed at his inquiry due to its vague nature. "Um, what. . . . things? I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking."

The wind brushed Aizen's dark ochre tresses across his face as he took a step towards you, like the breeze itself was pushing him towards you. "Hm, perhaps I should be more clear then. Are you content with being a soul reaper? Are you satisfied with being a soldier for the Soul Society?"

With your brows slightly furrowed in thought, you remained silent for several seconds and overanalyzed his every word, trying to predict where he might be steering the conversation now. The longer you thought it over, the stronger that nagging feeling from within your soul became. The one that often told you what he was asking wasn't exactly . . . it didn't quite feel . . . . .

"This feels like a prelude to another insightful discussion on Shinigami━ and by extension━ Seiretei politics." Your words cut off your own thoughts, as if your mind was trying to sweep something under the proverbial rug.

Aizen huffed in amusement, before lightly shrugging, leaving your statement definitively unanswered.

You sighed as you seriously considered his question this time. "I mean sure, I guess. I'm somewhat satisfied with my job and all of . . . this," gesturing your hands in the air around you to emphasize your point. The 5th Division Captain made another humming noise, indicating that you still had his full attention. He inched a little closer into your personal space.

The mere action caused your next words to die in your throat and a quiet chuckle resounded from his, before your thoughts revived themselves again.

"Of course things could always be better but. . . . y'know. This is just how it is." You weren't quite sure if you should voice negative opinions about the Soul Society so plainly to a senior officer, even if he was the one who asked you in the first place, so you treaded lightly.

The same plainly relaxed smile from earlier remained painted across his lips, held in his chestnut irises was an emotion akin to affection. He seemed somewhat pleased that you were expressing your thoughts with him.

“And you? Are you satisfied, Captain Aizen?” You were unable to keep the teasing endearment out of your tone as you returned his gaze, casting aside the notions of Gotei officer seating and ranks for the moment. The air seemed like it shifted━ towards what, you weren't sure of━ but it kind of made you feel like you were adrift, floating in isolation from everything else around you.

It was still hard to process that you were alone with Captain Aizen right now. . . . at night.

A low hum reverberated within his chest, contemplative in nature as he replied, “Perhaps.”

The wind whistled lowly again, erecting goosebumps on whatever part of your skin happened to catch the midnight breeze. You fought the instinctual urge to twitch towards the nearest source of heat, which happened to be Aizen. Now that would be even more wholly inappropriate than the 'lovers meeting at midnight' scenario.

The silence between the both of you was brief, but comfortable nonetheless. Once more his mellifluous voice cut through the quiet, leveled and calm, like still ocean waters.

“Come. I want to show you something,” Aizen reached his arm out towards you, your spine as straight as if someone stuck a metal rod dipped in ice water down your robes.

The captain's movements seemed steady and slow━ it had felt like time itself had hesitated for several moments. You thought he was going to . . . . well you weren't sure what he was going to do, and that's what you made you nervous.

Was he going to touch you? Cradle your cheek? Remove a stray leaf that happened to land on your head? You were left somewhat dangling in anticipation, not daring to flinch backwards because you felt it would be disrespectful or offensive. You hadn't even blinked, subconsciously fearing that this was only a very vivid daydream.

But alas, when his arm drew near it extended past your head, slightly above you, and held a small branch in his palm it like a delicate flower. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, but that breath drew short again when your gaze was eye level with his lower neck and chin.

He seemed . . . . closer.

“I think that regarding the condition of the Soul Society," Aizen began in a quiet voice, referencing his own reply to his earlier question, "and therefore my thoughts about it, is akin to this set of leaves on this branch."

Snapping out of whatever stupor you seemed to have slipped in, you exhaled softly before stepping back a bit to look at what he was talking about. In his palm he cradled a wayward branch that grew from one of the other sturdier branches of the tree. The green foliage of its arms had started to weaken and dull in color. The cold air due to the seasonal transition to autumn caused the leaves become brittle, nearing closer to the edge of death.

The sound of just how brittle they were resounded in the air when Aizen thumbed the leaves in between his fingertips, observing their texture with pity laced in his small movements.

"These leaves will fall off as it gets colder. And soon, the rest of this tree will be bare as well. When the time comes, when the right circumstances fall into place, the old die to make way and usher in the new; it's simply the way things are. I think of the Soul Society government is structured in a similar manner."

You hung onto his every word, like he were imparting crucial wisdom to you. Even though you were a bit confused on the last part, and on the connection between dying leaves and Soul Society, you still listened intently, waiting for him bridge the gap between the two.

"The Soul Society as it is now can be thought of as a season. And this particular season, this climate has remained so for several centuries. How can nature continue━ how can we continue to progress when the old have yet to be washed away by the currents of time? It defies that of nature, yes?" He directed this question at you specifically, in search of your agreement.

You nodded your head, tearing your gaze away from the branch and directed it at the grass beneath your feet. Your brows furrowed a little as you mused over Aizen's words. He gave a rather ambiguous answer before but now, his words sounded like vague displeasure and muted criticism. Everyone was entitled to their opinion, and on some fronts, you'd sometimes agreed with the 5th Division Captain. The Soul Society was far from perfect, too much emphasis on nobility and status, the government resembled too closely to an oligarchy . . . But you didn't━ wouldn't voice these thoughts, though.

Instead you hummed quietly under your breath. There was that tugging sensation again. This time it told you that there was something deeper to this conversation than meets the eye. But what could there be? Was there anything at all or were you just overthinking it?

The voice-like sensation in your soul was calling out to you, but you couldn't hear it that well or quite make out what it was saying. It's as if someone was calling out to you in a crowded room that had music playing on the speakers: you felt like if you listened hard enough you could make it out but ultimately, the result would fruitless.

"And when that happens," Aizen continued, "sometimes nature has to be gently nudged back on track to keep things moving smoothly. That may require . . . shaking the tree. Pulling a few harmful weeds from one's garden, so to speak."

"Weeds?" You echoed. You felt like you understood this analogy and therefore what he was trying to say, but at the same time you didn't. Or was it . . . . you didn't want to understand what he was implying?

Because if you were interpreting his words correctly, if he were inconspicuously comparing the higher-ups and the government itself to dying leaves and harmful plants that needed to be removed, then . . . .

"You, dear child, are a mere weed in this scenario."

Wait, what did he just━

Your thoughts were cut short when a gush of air that smelt strongly of Aizen━ warm oak, vanilla, and a kind of musk that you weren't sure how to describe but was still pleasant all the same━ brushed against your face and took you by surprise.

But there was another aroma that arose, steadily becoming more apparent alongside the increasingly painful throbbing feeling you felt in your abdomen.

It smelt metallic. And it was something that you've smelt all too many times before.

It was blood.

Your gaze that was initially narrowed in confusion lowered as it followed the source of this pain. Your eyes slowly widened in as you struggled to comprehend the blade that was currently ran through your torso.

Aizen's blade.

"Actually, instead of weeds, a more accurate and befitting analogy perhaps would be blades of grass. You unfortunately have to step on them in order to reach the weeds you want to remove."

You couldn't really focus on what the captain was saying, because your brain was still struggling to process what the hell just happened. Your hands slowly rose from their sides and shakily grazed the zanpakuto, wanting to believe that if you touched it, it would pass right through your fingers like mist. But no, the sensation of cold steel was as real as the robes you wore on your back. You only just now are processing the muffled squelching sound of his sword impaling your flesh.

You wanted to scream, to cry in pain, to vomit, to push him off━ something. But all you could do was stand there, stunned, words completely failing you. "Wh. . . . what? Why did . . . . you . . . . "

A cough replaced your attempt at a comprehensive sentence, and you tasted iron in your mouth.

Fuck....was this really happening?

"Please don't push yourself trying to talk," His voice was like an index finger to one's lips, similar to a parent's gentle caress to quiet and sooth their child, "You'll only hasten your death. And I'm sure you wish to know the reason for my killing you, yes? You'd have to be alive for that."

'Killing me?' 'My death?' The certainty that rang in his words chilled the blood in your veins, and they confirmed the one conclusion you hoped wouldn’t come true: that you were going to die.

The frigid embrace of fear and dread engulfed you from behind and you shivered, causing the blade snugly lodged in your organs to shift. The pain of that foreign object moving even a little bit shot through your entire body, causing a groan to emerge from your throat.

Desperate to conserve your energy and the oxygen that was becoming a little harder to take in, your breathing became uneven and a little wheezed. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet the gaze of Captain Aizen to confirm if this was really happening or just an extremely realistic and vivid nightmare. The sight you might be greeted with could be more frightening than the actual impaling of his sword.

As if his betrayal couldn’t actually or figuratively cut you any deeper, just then there was a noise that grew louder and louder within a matter of seconds until it was almost deafening. You’ve distinguished it to be the sound of glass crackling.

Your surroundings formed cracks everywhere on its surface, like it was just an oversized window. Even on the grass you stood on, or what you thought was grass, began to crumble away.

A dumbfounded but panicked look was plastered on your face when your world literally shattered around you, the only remnants of it being you and the Captain.

What was underneath the mirage━ or you should say, the fact that it was a mirage at all━ only disturbed you and increased your perplexity.

Slightly hunched over and breathing heavily, it took a minute to process where you were, but you noticed that now the two of you stood in a formal room that looked like it was used for important meetings. The lights in the room slowly started to brighten, most likely due to motion sensors. Even with Aizen's scent lingering in your nose, you could still pick out a rather stale aroma that hung in the air like dead fruit that hadn't fallen off the tree.

"Is . . . this Cen . . . tral━ "

"You are correct. Where we currently stand is the assembly hall for Central 46, the judicial power of the Soul Society. All judiciary as well as legislative trials and proceedings are held here."

All around the room were seats with partitions, the kanji for 1 through 46 printed on them. In the seat for the 19th member, your gaze caught onto something on the translucent barrier. It was a little farther up so you had to squint your already blurring vision to see it properly.

You saw, and your heart promptly sank as a result, eyes widening once more.

There were splatters of a dark colored substance on the partition━ undeniably blood. And the lithe, bony fingers of an older man laid lifeless, peeking out from the side of the screen like the appendages themselves were trying to escape from the body they were attached to.

That man . . . was dead. That stale aroma you smelt was the stench of death.

It was only after that unsettling epiphany did your eyes dart frantically around the room and realize that every member of Central 46 was dead.

The disturbed expression on your face only intensified as your stare was pulled back down to where Aizen's blade still resided in your body.

" Cap.....Aizen," you uttered, swift to correct yourself. All the moisture in your throat dried up like water underneath the unrelenting rays of the sun. You kept gulping your saliva in an attempt to assuage the sensation, but relief only last for a fleeting few seconds. "Did you ━ you killed them . . . didn't you?" Your question was laced with shaky hesitance and swelled with apprehension, fearing that you already knew his reply even before he answered.

There was a moment of silence and a hum before he replied. "Smart girl."

The muted mirthful tone in his voice sounded like sarcasm, and it was enough to finally draw your attention away from everything else and directly look at him. Almost instantly, you regretted it.

His umber tinted gaze was colder than you remembered. You couldn't find anything in his eyes that hinted that all of this was just a big misunderstanding, or a dream, or that Aizen had a secret sense dark and complex humor.

This was your first, and apparently your last time, that you have ever felt a fear such as this. Your mind was struggling to comprehend this was the same Aizen that spoke with you so gently, full of encouragement and wisdom. The same man that recommended you books to read and gifted you tea to drink and gazed upon you like . . .

Well, none of that mattered now. In this moment, Sōsuke Aizen wasn't the same man anymore. This Sōsuke Aizen was someone else, and it frightened you.

"When?" you croaked, your voice no longer sounding like your own. Nothing felt real anymore. "W-When did you . . . . . how? Why?"

Another noncommittal hum resounded from the spectacled man as he closed his eyes, feigning the action of thinking of an answer. When he reopened them, his narrow gaze returned to you.

"Everyone in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads was previously aware that the ability of my zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu, allowed me to confuse the enemy using bodies of water, mist and even moisture in the air in order to attack. However, that is not my zanpakuto's actual power; there is more to it than just simple confusion. Kyoka Suigetsu's true power is Complete Hypnosis. Essentially, when someone looks at my blade, I am then able to take control of that person’s five senses, causing them to believe that something is real ━ or that something isn't real. In a way, once glancing at my unsheathed zanpakuto, that person forfeits their sense of existence to me. Kyoka Suigetsu is quite flawless in its deceptive abilities."

A heavy silence, aside from your uneven breaths, endured in the space between both of you. You didn't need him to spell out what he was trying to say.

It was all . . . . an illusion. A convoluted, premeditated illusion. And you walked right into it without even knowing or considering, that it was all fake.

The Fifth Division Captain inwardly smiled at the despair clearly written on your face as he watched you mentally put the pieces together. He took your lack of reply as a sign to continue. "The members of Central 46 have unfortunately been dead for quite some time now. And as for your question of why......"

The taller man stepped towards you which inadvertently (or purposely, you began to fear), drove his sword deeper into your abdomen without warning and slight force. You bit down on your bottom lip hard to stifle your exclamation of pain. In an attempt to somehow resist him, with the little strength you had left, your hands automatically took purchase in his oversized sleeves, but it did nothing. You found it ironic that you could feel how warm Aizen was underneath his robes, but his soul was anything but.

" . . . . I believe I already mentioned it earlier, yes? All flowers die eventually and the weeds......must be removed."

At that moment you remembered that tugging sensation that told you something felt off in some instances whenever you talked with Aizen. This must have been what it was. Damn it all. You still didn't understand exactly what bad things Central 46 and the Soul Society have done to cause his actions, but based on what you've been told and your current position, it must have been heinous. Again, you actively swallowed the urge to vomit.

"You . . . you lied. I can't believe━ how could it have all b-been a lie?" Another nasty cough rattled your body, followed by a shiver and a groan.

The brown-haired man slightly tilted his head, like he was truly confused. "Lied? Hmm, well. I suppose you could put it that way based on your limited knowledge of the circumstances, but I wouldn't put it that way. Besides, this isn't really about truth or lies. It is, and always has been, only about the reality of what is. And what is, is that you were unable to anticipate my deception. No one could, because it was outside the domain of your thoughts. What is, is that the current way the Soul Society operates is tainted, and I shall be the one to remedy it."

You drew another shuddering breath and looked down at the ground with a grim expression as your blood continued to pool at your feet. Briefly, you even considered unsheathing yourself from his blade and take the chance to make a run for it, but the chances of you making it to the outside world, let alone coming across someone before you bled out and died were slim. Besides, it was clear that you couldn't even trust your own senses anymore after Aizen demonstrated that he had complete control of your reality.

Which reminded you of something else.

" . . . when?" you asked the same question again, but much quieter than before, despair palpable in your voice. 'When and how did you subject me to your zanpakuto's Complete Hypnosis?', is what you were really asking. And being as intelligent as he was, the spectacled man understood.

Abruptly, with a large palm on the small of your back, Aizen used his gentle hold grip to pull you towards him in order to close the remaining distance, causing him to drive the remaining length of his zanpakuto all the way through until the tsuba of his blade rested against your stomach. You looked like a skewered piece of meat.

You didn't have the willpower to hold back the piercing shriek of agony and physical anguish as tears sprung forth from your eyes. You could no longer tell if your blurry vision was due to your tears obstructing your sight or if it was from being a step away from death's door.

"Do you remember . . . the first time we met?"

The hand that rested on your lower back slowly glided upwards until his fingers found your jaw. With a tenderness that reminded you of a time before his betrayal, he lifted your chin and guided your gaze to look at him directly. His thumb moved to graze your bottom lip just as you've done mere hours ago━ as if he knew that, as if he watched you do it. His thumb was dangerously close to slipping inside your mouth and that both excited and scared you. Your breasts against his, your breaths synchronized with his, your body and his were fully pressed against each other and it made focusing on his question more difficult.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The first time . . . we met? Sure, with a little bit of effort you could easily recall the first time you formally met Aizen. It was sometime in the spring, and you remembered him running through combat formations with his lieutenant and the rest of his squad. But why d━

A silent gasp left you. Another epiphany, another figurative blade piercing your heart.

Battle formations, and he . . . offered you to join them . . . his zanpakuto . . . . .

Confusion crumbled away, and was replaced with vacant horror and sadness. It seems you've already been defeated, for many, many years now.

Aizen seemed to murmur something under his breath, a pleased sound you couldn't quite decipher. His mouth brushed over yours, rendering you literally speechless, before he closed the distance and brought your lips together. You could barely process what was happening.

It was ironically tragic how soft and skillfully gentle his lips were against yours. The kiss felt longing, like a departure between two sweethearts and their last meeting together. It also felt heavy and final, making you want to cry.

And you did. Silent tears streamed from your eyes and rolled onto the fingers that still held your face so affectionately. The captain reacted by guiding your chin up a little further, dipping his head a little lower, so he could deepen the kiss. You weakly scorned yourself for thinking about how the two of you must really look like lovers now, sans the sword sticking out from your back.

Oh, how cruel this was; how cruel he was. It was cruel for him to kiss you like this, hand still splayed on your back like he needed to touch you stay sane. And how cruel it was that still managed to enjoy it, even as you stood there dying. Your lips moved together in tandem, slow and almost passionate, all while tears stained the apples of your cheeks, drying up the plush youth that once resided in them.

Aizen's tongue had slithered its way into your mouth, and you suddenly felt like crying harder. There was a tart, sweet flavor lingering on his tastebuds, and you absently wondered what is was. Perhaps hibiscus from tea, you surmised. And he too tasted the sweet jasmine and citrus that clung your tongue and lips. At this, he chuckled quietly into your mouth, humming before retracting from you by a few inches so he could speak.

"I knew you would like the tea. It's sweet and flavorful, isn't it?" You hated how low his voice was, how its timbre pleasurably vibrated and rumbled against your lips, and you hated that lidded stare he gave you. You again thought it unfair that you couldn't even revel in the rare sight of Aizen's lips slightly wet because your lips were intertwined with his.

"I have to thank you for humoring me and my recommendations. I really appreciated it. And I also," you winced loudly and cried out in affliction as Aizen finally began to withdraw the sword from your body, "must to bid you farewell now. It seems you don't have any more time left, and this has dragged on for longer than it needed. I'm not surprised you've held out for this long, as I already knew you possessed commendable strength. But alas it wasn't enough. I am sorry that you have to die; it's rather regrettable that you happened to be that blade of grass that ended up underneath my foot."

Another wail was yanked from your chest as he steadily removed his sword from your abdomen. The pain was becoming excruciating, you would have collapsed by now if the taller man weren't holding you.

You saw two things before the light in your eyes had all but faded away. The first were the colors of faux pity and apathy that swirled in Sōsuke Aizen's irises, spiraling like a storm that was certain to wreak havoc in its wake. His gaze was devoid of any regret or remorse; the final metaphorical nail on the coffin. The second was a small smile.

But this wasn't one of his smiles you were familiar with. No wait . . . . the one you knew was simply a veneer of what is.

This smile was slanted, the corners of his lips tilted upwards and was sharp. Sharp enough to cut open your already gaping wound further and completely tear you apart, spelling out your demise. It looked insidious as if it were hiding razor-edged fangs. This was what is; Aizen's real smile.

"I. . . I see. Aize. . . ." were the last words you were able to manage. You didn't have the strength to be upset or hurt any longer, so you gave in to the exhaustion.

Your body permanently relaxed, long lashes veiling your now empty eyes as your arms lifelessly dropped to your sides. The captain found a disturbing amount of pleasure in his name being the final word you attempted to speak before succumbing to the sleep of death.

And even after the fact, the facade of doomed, star-crossed lovers persisted as your body slumped backwards. Aizen's strong forearm wrapped tightly around your waist being the only reason you didn't fall to the ground in a puddle of your own blood.

That day was the last anyone saw of you, your zanpakuto still laid idly in your room, its spirit destined to forever wander in the afterlife between worlds alone, eventually fading from existence without ever feeling the presence of its master again.

They had declared you missing by the end of the next day. Lieutenant Hisagi was probably the most perturbed about your sudden disappearance. Days, weeks passed, and they never located you. The Gotei 13 was left unsettled by the lack of progress, but ultimately had to rule your case inconclusive. Some believed that you were simply killed by a stray hollow, or even ran away from your duties because of the stress.

The news of what happened spread like wildfire across all the squads, that a high-ranked officer just up and vanished without a trace. The spirits and morale of the thirteen companies dampened, sorrow and worry swelling like a festering boil.

And that boil burst when Ryoka infiltrated the Soul Society, and when it was revealed that all of it was carefully orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen.

Like a blade of grass that somehow snuck into one's sandals or in between their toes, during his time in Hueco Mundo, images of you flashed in his head at unexpected times when his mind was quiet. He'd remove the grass, tossed you aside, and moved on with his day. There was no room for you in the grand scheme of things. Such reminisces were beneath someone like him.

And yet.

He'd always find another piece of grass from the greenery he stepped on whenever he advanced a step in his plans. There you were again.

It was common knowledge that if you kept repeating the same action over and over, it will eventually wear you down.

━━━━━━ 鏡  ━━━━━━━

It was dark, and there was nothing.

There had been nothing for quite a long time now. Utter darkness and the abyssal shade of black engulfed every inch of Aizen's body and surroundings.

He saw nothing, the seals over his eyes too opaque to let anything through. And even if they weren't obscuring his vision, he would barely be able to see three feet in front of him; there was seldom a few lanterns in his cell to begin with. He felt nothing but the bindings that kept him imprisoned in one of the deepest pits of the Seireitei. At times it felt like even his internal organs had stilled in their functions. He heard nothing but the unrelenting quiet of his cell within Mugen's maw. The only thing that served as proof that he hasn't spontaneously grown deaf yet was the occasional muffled noise that originated from outside of the entrance. And even then, he could hardly hear much of anything.

Such is an ironic fate for someone who, with a stray thought and a glint of his blade, could control someone's senses and take away their free will to experience those senses in their reality. And now, he was stripped away of all of his in nearly every capacity.

Sōsuke Aizen was rendered stationary and stagnant, qualities he detested and were the antithesis of his ambitions and plans, perhaps even his existence.

Aizen had always believed in being in control of your own destiny and making your own choices; if you had the opportunity and the power to change something━ especially if it was something that was wrong, unfair or immoral━ then one should be able to move towards that goal by making change, even if by force. The former captain had always been intentional about his actions and his desires right from the start.

And yet, here he ended up.

Spending years strapped to a chair in this dark, cloistered hole, Aizen had nothing but time to reflect the reason for his arrest: that orange haired Ryoka boy, Ichigo Kurosaki. He had nothing but time to admit to himself and settle on the conclusion that his last battle with the substitute Shinigami . . . did something to him.

Fighting the Ryoka boy ignited something inside him that he previously believed would forever lay dormant.

The thrill of a challenge.

Adrenaline was injected into his veins with each clash of their swords, spreading far and wide across every inch of his body. It no longer reacted in the measured, calculative manner he had programmed it to, but with unadulterated, pure instinct and raw power━ all in an effort to not only withstand such potent spirit energy from his opponent, but to come out on top and win.

It made him feel alive.

Aizen's desire to be the victor in battle and in his philosophy━ to prove himself right━ both fueled him and consumed him so thoroughly it led to his own downfall. That was a rather difficult fact to acknowledge; so much so his head started to pulsate intensely whenever it crossed his mind one time too often.

All of it unfolded right in front of his eyes and yet . . . he didn't really see it happen.

As time passed during his perpetual incarceration, with hooded eyes, the former captain spent an unfathomable amount of time tossing and turning every single event that led him to this underground prison, even pondering his temporary release by the Head Captain Kyōraku to fight in the war. Scenarios both minor and significant displayed itself in front of his mind's eye as if he were watching a film.

Every so often, a blurred visage of your image would make a brief appearance, like the flickering sparks of a match before they were able to come to light, fading away into the void and were overshadowed by his other thoughts. It was as if his own consciousness and intentionally muted any manifestations of your existence in his memories. As if he wasn't able to or allowed to see them━ to remember you for too long.

Mentally reliving moments from the last several months, years, decades, centuries━ trying to analyze each moment and decipher where it could have went wrong━ turned out to be quite an exhausting task. His mind and body would grow heavier with inertia, and eventually he would succumb to the alluring pull of slumber. After some time he would rouse from his sleep, and continued from where he left off.

These were his daily activities day in and day out (even though he had trouble distinguishing day and night in his chambers) for years. He saw a positive side to it though. He'd instead think of it has him getting stronger because he had spent so long . . . thinking. Ruminating. Contemplating every possibility in the past, present, and future. His mind would become as sharp as his zanpakuto.

Aizen had always been intentional about what he did, what he said, and how he conducted himself. He was sure in his abilities to orchestrate an image━ a belief for others to have faith in, and act on it in order to further his goals. He was always sure in that image, knowing who he was and what he stood for.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

Aizen wasn't consciously aware that his certainty in this crafted image had already begun to waver. He could not and was unable to anticipate how severe these small fractures had become until after a certain lieutenant paid him a visit outside his cell of confinement, right before he was scheduled to be thrown back into that dark hole of the Mugen.

Lieutenant Shuhei Hisagi was quite emotive when he burst through the doors. His expressions were contorted in volatile mixture of frustration, anger and sadness. His emotions were every which way, directed at everything that has happened so far, including himself. He was especially emotive at Aizen specifically for what he did to former captain Kaname Tosen and 'corrupting him with his twisted ideals.'

Aizen found amusement in that.

Before he was rolled away by the punishment force and therefore out of earshot, a particular set of Hisagi's words caused the small, content smile on his lips to uncurl ever so slightly. "Everything . . . and everyone that has ever gotten themselves involved with you has been trampled on by you and your ideals one way or another, and they all end up dead. If you think what you did to Captain Tosen was justified━ to call it mercy . . . . . then there is truly no justice in this world. You will . . . forever be the enemy in my eyes."

There was a trembling anger in his voice. Pain that wanted to cry out and be set free but, the thin lid of reason prevented it from doing so. And after a moment of silence, the corners of Aizen's lips curved upwards once more. A little bemused, a little more wolfish this time. He maliciously imagined Hisagi's reaction if he ever discovered the true reason for your disappearance.

But instead, all he said was. "What an interesting thing to say, Shuhei Hisagi. Your conviction is admirable." Any evidence of emotion that might have been reflected in his sepia irises was swallowed up and obscured by the darkness of the Mugen's jaw.

The cracks in Aizen's sense of self, in his beliefs, in the image he invented started to cave under the weight of Hisagi's words before he himself realized it was happening. They were like stains in the fabric of his mind that refused to come out.

What puzzled him more, was that with each attempt to figure out just why Hisagi's words echoed in his mind, they all lead back to you, the third seat of the 9th squad. Annoyingly so.

The tattooed lieutenant hadn’t said anything particularly profound ━ at least, Aizen didn't think so. Your name didn’t even fall from his lips. So why were memories of you and your likeness the only clear thoughts he could make of Hisagi's speech? Was it because he was aware of how close the two of you were? He doubted the reason were that trivial and insignificant.

His thoughts grew more discordant by the day, his soul a little more weighted than usual. Perhaps these new seals that Urahara had fashioned actually had an effect on him, Aizen thought. It made sense. His intellect, other than his own, were the only ones capable of creating such effective restraints.

After a while, he had a revelation. This was a different kind of weight.

This heaviness, the closest word he knew to describe it as . . . . was loneliness.

Time taunted him as it seemed to drag on━ Aizen grew even less sure of how much━ when he came to this realization. Hisagi's words were a clear mirror to the loneliness that echoed within him after what happened to you and to Tosen. It was so . . . potent, that it seemed to strike some chord in Aizen he had never heard before.

Such a chord, this sound of loneliness, it was strange and uncomfortable; he wasn't very fond of this sensation. He'd try to scrub it away, but it was all for naught.

His eyes had slid shut at some point, his ruminations leading to dead ends and wearing him down. And, almost as expected, there you were again, in all your translucent glory. The hem, the sleeves, and even the smell of your yukata slowly dragged across his dreams, haunting his thoughts like a lonely wraith.

And Aizen hardly dreamt of anything.

When he regained consciousness he was plagued with yet another epiphany. An additional reason behind this newfound depth.

Aizen's own loneliness. Guilt. Much to his own quiet horror.

How foreign and unusual a thing like guilt is. It was like looking into a mirror and not recognizing something you had never noticed before, but wondered if it had always been there.

But the thing Aizen did recognize, how lonely he actually felt, was something he had hoped would never resurface again. It was a notion he hadn't had the time or regard to consider━ 'loneliness'. Its only purpose, if any, was solely to serve as a motivator. At times though, it was more like a hindrance.

Something akin to nausea slowly started to bubble up in the pit of his stomach, but he suppressed the sensation before it became any more intense.

What of his previous actions did he need to feel guilty for? He hadn't felt it then, so why would he feel it now? Again he ruminated such a question endlessly into oblivion.

The former captain had no doubts that his plan to remove the Soul King, and therefore the Soul Society's sins, were necessary.

Nor did any hesitancy about removing the opposition or dead weight━ whether shinigami or arrancar━ existed.

He certainly had no reservations against killing Kaname Tosen, for he knew the man well enough to know that Tosen would have been so thoroughly appalled with what he had become, it would have drove him mad.

So what was it, then? Why were such useless emotions as guilt and loneliness being amplified n━

"Y....know, S....."

Even covered by the seals, Aizen's eyes widened and his brows were slightly furrowed in distress. Had his mind finally tipped the scales of sanity and madness, to the point where he was hearing things?

It was quiet for several moments longer, before his senses caught onto the sound of water dripping onto a hard surface.

One drop at a time.

Its cadence a little too rhythmic to be natural. And for a second time, he heard that soft, ominous sounding whisper. Its voice a little clearer this time.

"You...know.....Sōsuke."

In the second it took for his eyes to flutter shut behind its seals to blink, when he reopened them, he was no longer sealed to the walls and floors of the Mugen, nor was he surrounded by every shade of darkness imaginable. His limbs and senses were finally freed to breathe for the first time in what felt like ages.

That relief was short-lived when his senses absorbed the unending landscape of water underneath his feet, water lilies lifelessly floating on its surface, and the dim sky illuminated by a full pale moon.

Aizen was in his inner world, and now he was aware of how he got here, or rather who brought him here.

"You . . . already know the answer to that question, Sōsuke." The voice was even more clear, its sentences more comprehensible. And it sounded it eerily like you.

Why the voice was impersonating your likeness had caught him off guard for half a second, but he realized it was only the work of his zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu.

An illusion it may be, there was an untouchable quality about your voice and how you spoke that even Kyoka Suigetsu couldn't replicate.

A few feet away from him, the water was disturbed by a being emerging from the depths. Ripples formed around a manifested version of his zanpakuto, who took the form of you, smiling ever so gently. The smile felt airy, and it didn't seem like the same one that haunted his dreams and every waking thought as of late. It felt....knowing.

Still, the former captain couldn't be bothered to maintain eye contact with his sword spirit, so he turned around and opted to keep his unreadable stare trained on the vast expanse of water and white lilies.

"It's been quite a while since I have stepped foot into this realm. There must be something you want . . . Kyoka."

The zanpakuto chuckled, it sounded like the way you would softly laugh at one of his clever quips. But this wasn't you.

He didn’t want to admit that something about that fact didn’t sit right with him.

"Judging from your tone, would I be correct in assuming you don't want to be here?"

Silence rang out within the soul scape, before Aizen interrupted it, his gentle voice colored a shade darker, and a little rigid. "And I fail to see the reason why you must take that form when you revealed yourself to me. Is your aim to get a reaction out of me? Or something along those lines?"

Your eyes━ the eyes of Kyoka Suigetsu━ narrowed at its master's back, as if they were trying to create concavities in his skull. But the expression was washed away the moment it appeared, the serene smile from before was back in place.

"You know . . . it's considered quite rude to not look at someone when you're addressing them. That, and when you deliberately ignore things they say. Your manners have been deteriorating, Sōsuke. Tsk, tsk."

Kyoka-dressed-as-you suddenly appeared before him, as if they had teleported. Even when they were in his peripheral vision, Aizen still maintained his stare off into the distant nothingness.

"Unless, you can't find it in yourself to look at me. . . that's correct, isn't it? It's because I look exactly like her, right?" The zanpakuto continued to provoke him, taking a step closer into his personal space.

With an exasperated sigh, his eyelids fell shut for a second, using that time to gather the strength he didn't know he needed, and directed his gaze to meet his spirit's. Aizen's face gave nothing away, but his heart lurched about his chest when his bronze eyes met with yours, or what was made to look like yours. The undesired affect it had on him was all the same.

"If you wish to chastise me about manners, I suggest you take your own advice. You didn't answer my first question, either: what is it you want? Why am I here?" Again the former captain chose to not address the other parts of Kyoka's statement. For the sake of his sanity and his thinning patience━ or was it to preserve his resolve?

Its smile widened a bit, moving another step closer to their master. God, Kyoka even smelled like you, mimicking your signature honeyed scent that Aizen didn't realize he found so intoxicating until this very moment.

"I called you here to save you from yourself."

Aizen remained silent, only narrowing his eyes in speculation. "Meaning?"

"Didn't I already say it earlier? I think you already know what I'm talking about, Sōsuke. You've always known."

Fate's pairing of Kyoka Suigetsu with Aizen was a match crafted from the spindles of heaven, but also a maddening curse pulled from the depths of hell, for they complimented each other a little too well. The zanpakuto was too perfect a reflection of Aizen and his soul, looking at it started to hurt his eyes.

His sword spirit insisted that he already knew the reason for his coming here, and perhaps he did have an inkling the moment the light of epiphany was shone on his profound loneliness and guilt. But that couldn't have been what it was referring to . . . . could it?

"You cannot feign ignorance here, my dear Sōsuke, however I do find it rather humorous you bother trying. If you'd like, I don't mind humoring you by spelling it out for you. I'd be glad to unearth the truth that you have buried in the most neglected corner of your heart."

"When you were . . . . subjecting yourself to such mental torment, it had an affect on this world as well. The ripples, the waves in this scape become quite . . . tumultuous." The nuances in your voice were perfected by his zanpakuto, but the way it talked sounded like a fog that was gradually closing in from over the horizon. The uneasy feeling that resided in his chest traveled down to his stomach, but Aizen's face remained steely, even when Kyoka Suigetsu took that final step to close the gap in between them. "And the reason for that, the reason why Hisagi's words rattled you so is because you regret killing that woman."

The creased line in Aizen's brow grew more prominent as he stared down his sentient sword spirit. With its breast pressed against his, they placed a hand on his clothed chest in a tantalizing manner, but he felt nothing. There was no warmth from its palm, much unlike when your hand touched him. There wasn't even a cool sensation either. Even minutes before your death, your touch brought a soothing heat that permeated through his shihakusho and penetrated his skin.

Kyoka's face grew nearer, their smile━ although still tender looking━ grew cold at its edges, nearly resembling that of a predator eager to see despair reflected in the eyes of its prey. It didn't fit the graceful allure of your face at all, and seeing this expression deeply unsettled the former captain more than he would like to admit.

"You regret . . . killing me."

A chill tore through Aizen's body, the weight of Kyoka's words adding onto the heaviness that still hasn't been alleviated from his heart; he was hardly able to suppress the involuntary shiver.

Without warning, Kyoka's mouth suddenly became dangerously close to their master's, its lips brushing against his in a provocative manner. Aizen's expression darkened when he realized that it was reenacting his last encounter with you when you were alive. His mouth started to grow uncomfortably dry, despite his soul scape being full of moisture, and there was a taste on the back of his tongue that's been lingering there since he arrived.

The lilt in Kyoka's tone continued to taunt him. "That is the reason for your guilt: regret. You have been in denial. And in the spirit of unearthing truths, I suppose I can admit that perhaps . . . . I've been . . . . encouraging said delusions, adding drops of fuel into the flames of your emotions and ambitions. But after all that's happened, when it comes down to it there's no point in continuing this hallucination any longer. I've grown tired of this game, so it's time to for you wake up now, Sōsuke. I've brought you here to release you from your own illusion, to completely shatter it."

Aizen's back was as stiff as a board, not moving a millimeter when Kyoka's lips grazed his again. They were breathing softly onto his mouth, but he hardly felt any puffs of air.

The former captain was having a rather difficult time processing the fact that his zanpakuto had its own agenda and had been manipulating his emotions without him noticing. Specifically the emotions he felt towards you.

He never truly believed that such a thing was possible, one's own blade having such a deep-rooted influence━ no, control over their master. Or would it be more accurate to say that he never expected himself to be controlled to such a degree? He that prided himself on being freed from the marionette strings of fate that were tied to his limbs and mind, he that relished being able to do what he wanted, think what he wanted, feel what he wanted━ or what he didn't want━ it was hard to believe that none of that mattered in the end.

Kyoka Suigetsu's deceptive abilities were indeed undeniably perfect. No one, not even Aizen himself could have anticipated that Kyoka's most absolute and complete hypnosis would be enacted on himself.

"Do you know now, Sōsuke? Do you understand?" Kyoka's voice was as soft as a whisper, but it couldn't hide the edges of its tone that were still sharpened from finding amusement of seeing the truth flash across its master's face. "You had destroyed the solution to your existential question of loneliness, before you could fully understand the question itself."

Yes . . . . . Aizen understood now.

He didn't bother acknowledging what Kyoka had said. His grim facial expression━ still, tinged with dolor, and paired with an indescribable, distant look his eyes━ said all that it needed to. His silence was as much as an admission as any.

Kyoka-dressed-as-you leaned forward again to fully close the gap between their lips and Aizen's. Tenderly, like the intentions of a lover, it spoke against his nearly closed mouth. "Have you figured it out yet?"

Nothing but quiet could be heard between them, as Kyoka's mouth moved about their master's face and placed something like kisses upon its surface, but not quite.

Aizen's cocoa-shaded eyes slide down to stare at his sword spirit pressed up against him. His gaze was hard, and yet something swam underneath its surface that his zanpakuto had never seen before. Melancholy, it guessed? They weren't quite sure.

Kyoka pressed on when Aizen remained quiet. "The taste in the back of your mouth. Have you figured out what it was? You know it quite well....."

Aizen's tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, sensing the rather unpleasant taste that has coated the inside of it. And within a moment, because he was faced with the current circumstances, Aizen had finally placed a name associated this particular taste. How unfortunate this was.

Upon his realization, Aizen's head lowered, and his brown tresses hung freely over his lashes. Perhaps it was so Kyoka couldn't properly see whatever remorseful expression painted their master's face, but it mattered not. Even from here, the sword spirit could already sense exactly what it was he was feeling.

And they loved it.

"It's a sweet and flavorful taste, isn't it? Quite lovely." Kyoka Suigetsu mimicked the exact words he uttered against your lips all those years ago when he tasted jasmine tea on your tongue, and sealed your death with a kiss. "It's too bad you don't seem to enjoy it anymore."

Aizen's chest continued to rise and fall calmly, and the hands of his sword spirit that rested there glided upwards to cup his strong jaw, caressing his skin with its thumb. Its phantasmic touch did nothing to stir their master.

"Sōsuke, do you know what the jasmine flower from that tea symbolizes?"

Aizen's lips were slightly parted, but again he didn't say anything. Instead, its corners twitched and lifted upwards by an inch, and he huffed softly.

Kyoka Suigetsu grinned in reply. "Good."

The next time Aizen blinked, he was plunged in darkness yet again. The restrictive feeling that swallowed his being whole had returned, and was an indicator that his zanpakuto had released him from his inner world. He was consciously back in the Mugen, back in this abyss they called a prison cell.

Kyoka was indeed as much as a formidable force in its own right, as much as, if not greater than Aizen himself.

The conversation he had with his sword spirit would be cemented in his head for all eternity. When he grew senile and began to physically wither away, the one thing that would remain vital like a young heart, was this epiphany that he had. This realization that he actually . . . .

As the chains of despair bound him tighter to the bottom of the metaphorical pit, regret and his loneliness corroding his flesh and spirit like metal exposed to moisture, a stray memory of his time in Hueco Mundo flashed in his mind. He recalled having tea prepared for meetings with his Espadas and he could not pinpoint when, but at some point, Aizen developed an aversion for jasmine flavored tea. For one reason or another, he no longer found its taste appealing; whenever he drank it, it always tasted bitter.

Now that reason had become painstakingly clear.

The binding on his mouth muffled a rueful chuckle at the though, and it trapped the flavor of jasmine on his lips.

(#) @soaringmirror @stygianoir @ryukenzz @blkjupiters @chrissie2003 @nymphoheretic @dejwrld @triangularz @souyaszn @kuujo @honeybleed @valentineluvu . let me know if you’d like to be apart of my tag list ♡♡.

[noxturnalnymph]

Devotion 🖤 Masterlist

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

I. Stronger Together CH 1 CH 2 CH 3

II. Predator or Prey? CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

III. Path to the Future CH 9 CH 10 CH 11 CH 12

Epilogue Some Summer Sunday

Series Warnings: 18+ MDNI, canon-typical violence/death, death of clickers, guns, blood/injury, references to previous SAs (not described), Reader has low self worth & trauma, this group/cult is not feminist - women aren’t treated as equals, Joel has sexual relationships with other characters (not described in detail), possessiveness, manipulation, stalking/spying on, Joel gets mean, DubCon Oral, Joel gets abusive (verbally, mentally, physically (he hits, throws, and bites), thoughts of self-harm and suicide, talk of periods & pregnancy, unprotected PiV, oral sex (m & f receiving), come eating, DIRTY TALK, brief reference to breeding kink and creampie kink (but reader does NOT get pregnant in this story).

A/N: OBVIOUSLY this is canon-divergent, but it is post-outbreak. The events of outbreak day have not changed (sorry Sarah). Reader does have a developed background that plays heavily in her character arc, so in that sense she is very much an OC. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions.

LAYOUT OF JOEL'S HOUSE

AO3 LINK

MOODBOARD BY @strang3lov3 MOODBOARD BY @beefrobeefcal

*🖤*NOTES ABOUT THE CULT & JOEL BELOW*🖤*

ABOUT THE CULT

The Cult's Core Ideology

Build up a community (and supplies) to return to a thriving society that can keep people safe & find a cure.

The Cult Operates by its 3 Tenants:

How Joel does it (what he "preaches")

I. Build Trust (We are Stronger Together)

Makes people feel beautiful, important, HEARD

Shares the wealth (food, shelter, women)

Seeks Power & Control to get others to help him

II. Us vs Them (The Predator Vs The Prey)

FEDRA is the enemy, do not trust them

Assimilate or Destroy all other people/groups

Attack them before they attack you

III. Gather & Prepare (Create a Path to the Future)

You can never have enough, always take take take take

The community you create now will determine future society (fair, honest, hardworking)

Once you are well-prepared and rebuild, you can work on finding a cure

🖤

Notes about Joel and the Cult:

He and Tess began this community together in 2010 after they met Bill and Frank and they felt that the QZ was becoming too dangerous and unstable. They settled in a small, remote town in the mountains of Vermont. Tess helps him "run" the community but she has a submissive role. (Their dynamic here is different from canon.) Tess has his respect probably more than anyone else does but she is not looked upon like an equal by anyone in the community.

Timeline/Ages:

This takes place in the fall of 2012, so It’s been 9 years since outbreak day. Joel is 45, my HC for Reader is Early 30's (Tess is 39/40). Reader's exact age isn't given, but she was in her early 20's on outbreak day and I wanted her to have experienced a fair taste of an adult life before the world ended. I didn't want to write the reader as inexperienced or with too large of an age-gap, although I think 11-14 years is still pretty significant. She has a history that plays a significant role in her personality (wary, untrusting). She has been hurt/abused by men - both those that took advantage of her when she was young, as well as by those that she trusted/loved. There are very few physical descriptions but she is very much an OC. Note that her age is not something that's explicitly mentioned because I did want to keep it inclusive. I hope everyone who wants to read this can use their imagination to fit themselves into the story in a meaningful way.🖤

[pedal-writes]

Lloyd garmadon hcs (romantic & reg hcs)

A/N: This is first post on here 😭 I’m super into ninjago right now so I might as well write abt it. And Lloyd is super pookie bear 🫶

Romantic:

-When you guys first start dating, Lloyd is a bit awkward since A. He’s never been in a legitimate relationship before and B. He has insane trauma from Harumi.

-But over time, he’ll start to warm up to you! You just gotta be patient with him.

-Loves to read comics with you, it’s such a guilty pleasure (and he’s a big nerd.)

-When he’s with you, he’s always holding your hand or resting his hand on your lower back. He’s protective in a casual way rather than a possessive way, yk?

-Very prone to venting to you.

-Every once in awhile, he takes you out in ninjago city for a date on a rooftop of a building. It’s not the best place for a date but he’s not much of a romantic. But he does try for you!

-Always takes care of you when you’re sick. He makes soup and tea for you, and sits by your side, holding your hand while talking about whatever.

-He’s such a cuddle bug!! He loves laying on your chest while you tangle your fingers in his hair. And vice versa.

-Loves to kiss you on your face, esp your cheek and your nose. Seeing your face get all blushy after he surprises you with a kiss really makes him happy.

-Feels a little self conscious around you about certain things, like his dad, his oni form, or the idea of being a master since those things bother him deeply. But a little reassurance and kind words from you will help his self esteem a ton.

-He likes it when you braid his hair or play with it in any way.

-If you’re up to it, lloyd loves training with you. He’ll go easy on you considering he doesn’t want to hurt you, but if he does he feels so bad 😭

-When you two are together, Kai will do EVERYTHING in his willpower to embarrass Lloyd for funsies.

-One time, he totally showed you a picture of when Lloyd was little and he had that atrocious bowl cut. Let’s just say Kai was locked out of the monastery for a good 3 days 😁

-Doesn’t use many nicknames but does like to use a shortened ver of your name, to keep it simple. But he doesn’t mind calling you “gorgeous” or “beautiful” once in awhile, since to him you definitely are.

-Misako and Wu would definitely love you immediately after Lloyd introduces you (more so misako), no questions asked.

-Garmadon though? It depends. If you get to know him a bit better, then he’ll probably warm up to you. He’s just a bit weary because of his trust issues.

-Kinda same with the Ninja honestly, but they’ll warm up to you super quick when they see how you treat lloyd and how happy you make him. They just want the best for him is all.

General:

-Lloyd really values his hair, like a ton. He takes super good care of it. And I really like to think after the events of crystalized, he started to actually grow his hair out.

-And by the time of dragons rising, his hair is all the way down to his lower back (he puts it in a low ponytail most of the time for combat reasons.)

-He’s both Japanese and Chinese!

-Demiromantic/sexual and omnisexual!!

-Looked up to Nya as a mother figure when he was little, and still does. He loves misako so very much, but resents her deep down.

-Has a little stubble in DR, kinda canon but whatevs.

-Has a pretty good singing voice, but only really does it in private.

-Outside of his Gi, the clothes he usually wears is just a jacket, a t-shirt and jeans 😭 he has like 15 jackets in his closet (he’s just like me fr)

-Has scars like all over his body, and some on his face from like the millions of battles he’s been in.

-He’s a little chubby, but has pretty muscular arms (🤭)

-Lloyd has like small non-human features that nod to the fact that he’s half oni and dragon.

-Like pointy ears, sharp teeth, and slitted pupils.

-Still has an adoration for candy.

-Every once in awhile, he still heads to Ninjago Doomsday Comix to buy a new issue of a comic he likes.

-He would probably enjoy music like Radiohead or some other sad stereotypical man music.

A/N: I can’t think of much else but I hope you guys enjoyed these!! I’ll write at my own pace for a little bit and then I’ll open requests. I gotta make a carrd sometime soon lmfao 😭

( @weirdotaku1000 these are the hcs I was working on!!)

[whatswrongwithblue]

Artowrk by inuhalfdemon

Series Masterlist

Summary:

He took her face between his clawed hands and kissed her, hard and quick.

“So now that I have you back,” as he spoke, his voice crackled and lowered several octaves, and the room darkened as he allowed his power to slip out just enough to make reality around them go fuzzy. “I’m not letting you go.”

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

TW: canon typical violence, language, character behavior. recreational drug use. body image issues. references to self harm. OC has ptsd from sexual trauma and spousal abuse - not from Alastor! cannibalism. gun violence. slow burn. alastor is an ass and alastor is also soft. the smut will eventually include: p&v, fingering, oral - both receiving. biting, scratching, blood play. occasional shadow tentacle and sex toy usage. Anal play. Nun Alastor makes an appearance later on. Breeding kinks - both Alastor and OC deal with breeding cycles. Touch adverse Alastor. Ace-spectrum Alastor.

Also available on AO3 .

Chapter 1 - The Pilot: Alastor returns to Hell. Basically the events of the Pilot, but rewritten with Mina present.

Part 1

Chapter 2 - Reflections. The short story of Mina's life and death.

Chapter 3 - Overture. Events of Episode 1 as well as what happened during the Extermination the day before.

Part 2

Chapter 4 - Terminally Dispelled. Mina arrives in Hell.

Chapter 5 - Radio Killed the Video Star. Events of Episode 2. Alastor is a simping show-off but still not good at processing emotions.

Part 3

Chapter 6 - Little Sunshine. - Mina's POV from the end of last chapter.

Chapter 7 - Ashes in My Wake. - Alastor handle's being smitten really, really badly.

Chapter 8 - Scrambled Eggs. - Alastor finds out someone has hurt his wife.

Part 4

Chapter 9 - Wretched and Joyful. - "First time" smut

Chapter 10 - Masquerade. - Events of Episode 4. Angst ahead!

Chapter 11 - Stitches. - Angst & post-fight make-up smut

Part 5

Chapter 12 - Drunk on Life. - extra fluff & smut

Chapter 13 - Dad Beat Dad. - Events of Episode 5 w/ smut.

Part 6 - Alastor in rut smut but also lots of dark themes. Please mind the tags of these chapters.

Chapter 14 - Welcome to Heaven.

Chapter 15 - Tainted.

Chapter 16 - Possessed.

Chapter 17 - The Prophetess vs. The Nun.

Chapter 18 - Welcome (Back) to Heaven.

Part 7

Chapter 19 - A Fate that Befell Him. - proposal & wedding day

Chapter 20 - The Silence in Between. - honeymoon smut

Chapter 21 - Hello Abaddon. - recruitment for the hotel battle

Chapter 22 - House on Fire - smut rather than dealing with feelings.

Everything below is finished, only unpublished because I need to proof read!

Part 8

Chapter 23 - Don't Take That Sinner From Me. - the day alastor left

Chapter 24 - Just Pretend. - have some more angst. as a treat.

Chapter 25 - A Place to Put Your Pain. - surprise! more smut

Chapter 26 - The Show Must Go On. - the battle

Bonus Chapters

Chapter 1 - The Library - bonus smut

Chapter 2 - Poppin' Molly - Alastor on drugs, enough said

[olasketches]

I find sukuna's enraged reaction to being pitied so interesting, considering that he, himself, admitted that he didn't expect that someone (or maybe just yuuji) offering him pity would anger him so much. honestly looking at all sukuna's interaction with other characters like jogo, yuuji, gojo... the contrast in how he talks about being strong and how he talks about being weak is quite striking.

despite having a huge superiority complex, he never gives any boasting comments about himself, like gojo for example. he even praises others, sorcerer and curses alike, for their strength, which again is contrary to gojo who often belittles and degrades his opponents. however, sukuna's behaviour is not actually opposite of gojo's, because while he admires others' strength, he finds being weak disgusting in itself. you see, gojo never had a problem with other people being weak because being weak is not something he could ever relate to like "yeah, those guys are weak but how is that my problem?". others being weak never really disgusted him, not like it does sukuna, but rather amused him (probably why he teased and bullied utahime and ichiji so much lol) anyway, my point is that, sukuna's attitude doesn't contrast gojo's, it mirrors it.

gojo's problem was that he was obsessed with being the strongest. he desperately wanted to live up to his title, but not because he had some deep-seated insecurity about being weak, but because that's all he's ever been. he wrapped his entire identity around it, which in result made him believe that he could only relate to people who were just as strong as him. then there is sukuna... who on the other hand... (dramatic pause)... is obsessed with being weak or rather he desperately doesn't want to be seen as someone who's weak. sukuna keeps insulting and belittling yuuji for being weak, despite yuuji CLEARLY not being weak. yuuji's own humanity and the strength he derives from it, exposes sukuna's own deep-seated weakness and dare I say... insecurity.

at the beginning of this post I said how sukuna has a big superiority complex, which now, after the recent canon events it almost borderlines with an inferiority complex. the thing is that, superiority complex and inferiority complex are kinda the same thing. they both stem from a deep-seated feeling of inadequacy, with the only difference being that someone with an inferiority complex tends to express these feelings as anxiety and submissiveness, whereas someone with a superiority complex overcompensates by acting as if they're god's gift to mankind, which is the later for both sukuna and gojo. however, unlike gojo, whose own superiority complex comes from the fact he was treated like a god by everyone in his clan since he was born, sukuna's superiority complex and its origins can still only be found in the subtext. we know that he was born an unwanted little wretch and people hated him, most likely feared him due to his own abnormal appearance and probably later his overwhelming strength. I don't want to dive too much into this since we don't actually know sukuna's backstory, we can only speculate based on what we know. however, it's his conversation with yuuji after he possessed megumi that interest me the most. he says...

Well, saying it from my perspective; why are all of you so weak. Why (are you) so obsessed over living despite being so weak

and let's not forget, sukuna is the only character who thinks yuuji is weak, which makes the rest of his speech all the more interesting, as he continues...

How can living things who keep collapsing easily say that they wish to be happy forever?

now this is funny, because several chapters later he admitted that no matter how many times he tries to break yuuji, he keeps getting back up, he's either contradicting himself again (and well.. he IS) or...

It’s better for all of you to spend your whole life crushing fitting misfortune for you

he's not only referring to yuuji here... sukuna genuinely believes that the weak should spend their whole lives chewing on their suffering, as is their natural state... but why?

after yuuji offered sukuna mercy, sukuna felt looked down upon and got down right pissed, which even shocked sukuna himself. why would that offend him? after all, he KNOWS he's strong not even gojo's taunts could get to him or yorozu trying to teach him about love, something he supposedly already knows about. why did yuuji offering him sympathy enraged him so much? shouldn't he just laugh in his face for believing he could beat him?? it seems like.. MAYBE.. in that moment, yuuji unintentionally touched on a very sore spot there, revealing sukuna's own insecurity: being seen as weak.

[folder-stuff]

I steamed with these drawings for a long time, but it was worth it.

When I drew the designs of the guardians, all sorts of ideas came to mind about what happened while Cornelia lived in Meridian. I really like what I came up with, and I'll try to explain why I drew it all at all.

In general, as you know, in this alternative, Cornelia went with Caleb to Meridian, leaving her family and friends, as well as the post of a guardian. This event has greatly shaken Will's confidence in herself as a leader who is obliged to unite girls. Especially after the arch with Nerissa, where she almost lost the Heart of Kandrakar. And don't forget about Taranee's doubts, because of which she even left the team in the canon. In general, Will had reasons to give the leader's place to a new member of the team - Orube. "Maybe someone else can handle it better?" she thought.

At first, it seemed to be a good idea to run away from responsibility. However, girls didn't think so. No one recognized Orube as a leader for many reasons, one of which was Will's authority as the previous head. And when the girls were looking for support in her, she couldn't provide it, because she's not as solid as Orube or Cornelia. Will is a sensitive nature, the heart of the team, not its foundation, and she isn't able to return everyone from heaven to earth because of her character.

Hence the main conflict was born: Will couldn't cope with the role of the guardian of the earth, since she wasn't able to take the position of Cornelia in the team. She felt out of place and understood that she used to be more effective. Against the background of the defeat that has already happened after Cornelia's departure and Taranee's doubts, this aggravated the feeling of failure, inferiority complex and hesitation. Confidence is the main quality of the guardian of the earth, and she lost it without even starting to develop in herself.

This is where the main dilemma began: she wanted the leader's place back. But not only because she realized her incompetence as a guardian of the earth. It's also about the Heart of Kandrakar. From the very moment of Orube's appearance and the transfer of the Heart, Will heard its call, at first barely perceptible, but growing stronger every day. With the understanding of where she really belonged, Will missed the feeling of unity with the Heart of Kandrakar, with its warmth and power. And it scared her. Because she began to see Nerissa in herself, to hear her phrases in her head and to dream that she's turning into a recently defeated enemy...

This is exactly what I wanted to convey in my first work: the binding vines that strangle Will and don't allow her to move; the imitation of the Heart of Kandrakar, which no longer belongs to her; fear from the desire to possess what she can no longer possess.

I hope I have enough strength to make a post about Orube, because I did the drawing for a long time and was a little tired =_=

In the second picture, I wanted to show Will's routine and her new powers. She conjures only plants, often flowers, as it's more difficult for her to cope with heavy stones and hard earth. This is due to fading self-confidence and lack of firmness in actions and decisions. She's effective in combat, but things don't always work out the way she intended, which makes her angry at the plants, as if they're a computer hanging at the wrong moment. She had to learn to cope with vines and flowers so that they were useful.

Also, these plants often get in the way and grow when and where it isn't necessary. For example, they can cling to the legs and grow while Will sleeps.

[valhalla-calls]

Relativity Falls headcanons- My Version Pt.3

Making a part three because apparently, I wasn't done.

My Au isn't exactly one for one in terms who replaces who and what events happen. However, there are close to it.

Kind of off track, but Canon! Stan would cry if he saw any Relativity Falls AUs. The thought that any of the Pine twins going through at least half of what he did while he was homeless would destroy him. Doesn't matter if it's Dipper or Mabel, it would destroy him.

Back on track, I can see Mabel's scams sometimes consisted of match making and fake love potions. She got a lot of angry customers when the match wasn't good or the love potion surprisingly didn't work. It caused a few injuries along the way. A few times, she was stabbed and didn't have money to go to the doctor to get it stitched up. Good thing she knows how to sew thanks to her making sweaters.

After a particularly bad run in with some people she owed money to, Mabel had to rewrite a letter to Dipper, because blood smudges kept appearing on the letter. Eventually, after the hundredth time, she just covered those spots with glue and glitter. No, Dipper doesn't know that bit until probably much later.

Mabel does have the scar on the back of her shoulder like Stan did! How it happened was a little different, she had a stab wound she stitched up on her upper arm when Dipper sent a post card for her to come. In the middle of their "Concerned for each other" scuffle, he grabbed it by accident, Dipper let go when she screamed, which caused her to fall onto sigil.

Dipper's had his fair share of hurt here too. He had the whole bleeding eye issue that Ford did in canon. I imagine if he was possessed by the Axolotl, it would take a toll on his body too. A big entity like that, I don't think a human body could handle well. Then, there's the whole doing things to Dipper while being possessed thing. He has a few scars from those moments too.

Speaking of Axolotl, I feel like it would take Dipper a while to warm up to being friendly. Not that he wouldn't be fascinated and tricked at all. Because, we saw what happened with Bill doing the Sock Opera episode, he would. However, I think at first, he'd proceed with caution. He was only started to be mystified by the Axolotl when the Axolotl began to feed into his loneliness.

I'm cool with either Candy or Pacifica taking Fiddleford's place. It makes sense for either. If it's Pacifica, she could fund it and if's Candy, she could build it.

Mabel kept making the fake love potions to sell in the Mystery Shack. One of them fell on Stanley and it caused him to have a misunderstood panic attack when he saw Fiddleford and nothing happened. Not because he was worried he didn't like Fiddleford. No. He was told at one point, probably by his mom, that if a love potion didn't have any effect after seeing another person, it meant he was already in love with the person. After, what Stan thought were failed attempts to woo Fiddleford (Because, you know, he honestly believed the potion worked so, got commit to the bit.), Mabel cleared up the misunderstanding. Which she found hilarious.

Since Bill is in Pacifica's place, Stan, not only has a rivalry with Gideon, but he has a rivalry with Bill.

I can see Dipper and Mabel picking on the fact that Stanley is being abused by Filbrick at home. There are many routes like when it comes to this AU that people take with that issue. My favorites though are where they find out and don't let the boys go home at all and teach Stanley that Filbrick doesn't love him. Also, Ford finally understanding some things and is completely on board. They would not care who Filbrick is to them. They would risk it.

[ghost-bxrd]

Consider this:

Fae Dick has an adoption problem. Maybe more so than Bruce, one could argue. So if he met a human version of himself, he would absolutely try to adopt him.

Like, Fae Dick takes one look at canon (or canon like) Dick Grayson sometime after some shit went down (post Jason’s death, tarantula, spyral, or some other traumatizing event) and goes ‘Bruce get over here, new brother just dropped’

That… might be an actual problem lmao 😭😭😭

Other beings are notoriously possessive/protective of their people so… once Fae!Dick imprints on someone, there’s no getting out that bond lol.

And Bruce… would have to find a way to deal with this. Because on one hand it’s impossible to just say “no” to Fae!Dick (he’s got the bite marks from the strange deer from the last time he tried, not repeating that experience for anything, pls and thank you) when he’s got his sights set on another family member.

On the other hand, Bruce would have to make sure there’s no interdimensional war breaking out lol.

So yeah, only way fae!dick would let canon!dick leave is if he’s able to regularly contact him and make sure he’s okay. And as soon as there’s a sign of him NOT being okay…. Well, Bruce better contact the JL because his strange kid is starting fights with other worlds. (Again).

[envy-of-the-apple]

I'm 99% sure it was called "Forever Yours" and it was a yandere oneshot series basically of a ton of popular anime boys from the time. The ones I remember were the Tokyo Ghoul dude, there were some Death Note guy chapters, there was the ML from Kamisama kiss, OH and the white haired guy from Psycho-Pass. There were like 50 chapters. It had probably a million likes or something it was INSANELY popular.

Ryntymy also had some other ongoing fics (and a ryntymny/reader crack fic, god, love them for that), but god it's soooo hard to remember.

i DID find a post about one of the fics i knew of that was actually REALLY GOOD that you would have LOVED (it was very similar to saltburn although it's quotev so this yandere was ofc pretty tame):

https://www.reddit.com/r/Quotev/comments/1b652gu/trying_to_find_old_x_reader_fic/

as for what's still up... hm. i do remember parallel ink, and also psychadelic peanut (they had this really trippy izaya fic):

https://www.quotev.com/story/9754667/Unfortunate-YandereIzaya-Orihara-x-Reader/1

AH parallel ink wrote kingdom of possession, which i DO remember:

https://www.quotev.com/story/6759314/Kingdom-of-Possession-Yandere-King-x-Reader

and there was this one series that was ACTUALLY quizzes, which was neat:

https://www.quotev.com/quiz/8085561/Out-of-Sight-Out-of-Mind

this one was a pretty fun sort of mystery style thing:

https://www.quotev.com/story/11260294/Seesaw/1

and this one was like. formative for my longing for pathetic masochistic men. i wasn't super into it back then but THE SEEDS WERE PLANTED:

https://www.quotev.com/story/8901227/Then-Came-You-Sadistic-Reader-x-Yandere-Character-One-Shots/2

SEESAW????? I lovedddd that fic so so much ahhhh it was amazing!!! the fic put me in so much denial cuz i was like 'its him! wait no its not him? wait it IS him? no wait-' very very entertaining

speaking of murder mystery yandere fics...there was this one where the reader was isekaid onto a train and quickly pieces together that all of the passengers resemble ppl from this book they read years ago...except they cant remember the ending aka they dont know who the murderer is. pretty sure the author deleted it but it was good!

its so funny you mention psychedelic peanut cuz i remember they got canceled???? actually...pretty sure parallel ink did too...as well the rest of their clique....and thats why i zipped outta the quotev yandere community!

actually that one aot isekai i was talking about was hosted on quotev! pretty much the height of literature, there's no competition. if i dont find it im just tempted to just rewrite it.

Curse of a Broken Promise is still up there and i think it still holds up! its a yandere kaneki ken fic and the writing is so....whimsical? idk how to explain it but it whenever i read it i always felt so sad. good read!

Imperishable affection (yandere!mafioso x reader) is ALSO written by the same author. basically yandere mafia boss guy threatens you into loving him or else your family dies yada yada so ofc the mc does. for a quotev yandere fic its pretty dark actually.

You Need Me (Yandere Manipulator x reader) THIS was the fic that brought me into the yandere thing. and the author used to update EVERY day so this whole this was an event. and the TWIST i remember being 14 and gasping like 'omg he did EVERYTHING???' very very good

If you want a izayax reader fic whos author WASNT wierd might i suggest Twisted Obsession. Beautiful writing. Its better than most ao3 writing actually and wayyy above mine. I love the way this author characterizes Izaya in this and the backstory for why hes so strange is pretty believable. like i fully believe it should be canon.

Savior Complex is an aot isekai where the mc gets whisked into a yandere sim where Petra is the love interest and the rest of the aot cast is obsessed with her. but we can all guess what happens. pretty good tho!!!

BUT EVERYONE GO READ PRETTY its a gojo x LATINA READER AHHHHHH YESSSS. i just LOVE LOVE LOVE the way this author writes. its so poetic and there's so much left up for interpretation.

[whoyacallinyellow]

Borrowed Time hurt me a lot omg- Now I offer you even more angst.

It's sad that Javier became the very thing in 1911 that he swore to destroy (working as a hitman for a tyrant government) but it would be even sadder if (as a part 2 ig of borrowed time) Javier and his love meet again but this time, he was there to arrest her and bring her to town to hang.

Borrowed Time II

Javier Escuella x F! reader

Spoilers: major RDR1-2 events Content: 18+, low honor Javier, angst, betrayal, loyalty, dramatic, possessive, referenced/implied sex, canon typical events & violence, possible unintentional spelling mistakes, google translated Spanish Type: I-II changed to second pov (wc - 4133) / pc: pinterest a/n: i can feel this request in my veins, so here’s my mediocre yapping! live, laugh, angst 

Summary: Following the events of Beaver Hollow and your departure, Javier falls into work with Allende. After your reunion he reflects on his time with you, to only turn you in by nightfall. 

It was a warm day in New Austin, the orange rays blanketing the barren dirt landscape, and not a cloud in the sky. Javier only imagined finding himself wandering these lands again, but yet he returned on what seemed to be borrowed time.

A few years had passed since he last saw you at Beaver Hollow. The man could not bear to show his face, the embarrassment of being wrong about Dutch was an ego check it say the very least. 

Yet your note lived in the far corner of his mind, a small cabin just north of MacFarlane's Ranch from his understanding. 

It did not take the man long to find it, local cowpokes cowered at the sight of the large Mexican outlaw sitting upon an even larger steed, interrogating them about a maiden. It was almost as if the best pieces of you resembled him, immediately reminding the folk of who it was he was searching for. 

Boaz grunted against Javier’s spurs, digging deep into the loose red dirt below. The sunbeams which crept through the dry pine trees created quite the atmosphere, allowing Javier to get lost in his head, even if it were just for a few moments of bliss. 

Despite the directions given to him, Javier hoped you had moved on after all these years, fled somewhere safer, started a new life, perhaps changed your name as well. Somewhere he would never find you. 

Boaz continued to race down the winding path, feeding Javier’s anticipation against the warm breeze. As it gusted past the side of his head, loose strands from his tied hair tickled his ears, merely reminding the man how badly he needed a haircut. 

The starving grass which bordered West Elizabeth held a yellow tinge, the land rolled and waved, flourishing with birds and wildlife. Javier reckoned he has not been to the area before, but you were not lying about how appealing it was— a perfect home for you two. 

Upon whipping around the corner, abruptly revealed a small cabin with songbirds singing to him in the trees. The place was quiet, cozy, and seemingly inhabited, with small smoke stacks exhausting from the brick chimney. 

Bringing Boaz to a halt, there was no sign of you— but sure enough a big black cloud skulked in the nearby pen, following you wherever you wandered like a burden. 

Javier stiffly slid off Boaz, his knees nearly giving out from under him as his boots crunched onto the dirt. The beast was grazing on hay as he approached the fence post 

After whistling and calling your shire a few times, Javier was promptly ignored, perhaps the slow and ominous brute heard the man call him el diablo one too many times. 

He was still a strong believer the only reason the horse broke for you was out of pity— you looked like a child struggling to climb him every endeavor. Maybe the beast had a soft spot for you, just like himself. 

But now the old shire was relieved from his saddle, serenading in the New Austin sun, not bothered to obey the envious man’s command. 

Javier leaned against the corral post, admiring what he could have had with you, the thought of being a family man loomed over his shoulders and displayed no signs of leaving. 

You and Javier ran together prior to joining Dutch, less for money and more for survival. Your past crimes covered bounty boards and train stations as a permanent reminder, never forgetting the wrongs that were written. That price only increased once Mexico inevitably caught wind of all the messy jobs in neighboring lands. 

He drowned and you sank with him, the price of his sins were bricks added to your back. Being his accessory, the government saw you as a pawn, smart and knowledgeable, if caught— Javier would come for you, and they would be ready for him. 

Those days were nearly from another lifetime. 

Now under Allende’s ruling fist, he offered him a twisted plea deal of sorts; protection at the cost of something the man held more dearly than life itself—you. Your capture was not about the money nor status, but simply a test of his loyalty to Allende; if Javier did this job, he’d do anything. 

The poor man’s convoluted loyalty never got him far, proving time and time again, leading him only to dead ends and false hopes. Charismatic attributes and big promises was something Javier foolishly gave everything to with a blind eye, something you always warned him about.  

“Javier?—“ 

Your voice could have made him leap out of his own skin. As he hesitantly turned towards you, his gut twisted into something mean. You were beautiful as ever, after all these years you waited for him— just like you promised. 

“Never thought I’d see you again, especially in the west.” You spoke again in disbelief, rag wiping your hands clean of a job he should have been doing. 

Your voice only lived in his memories, hearing it again nearly whipped Javier back into shape, feeling sick for your puppy love he desperately relied on so long ago. 

“Home sweet home.” The man swallowed dryly, throwing his arms out awkwardly and gesturing towards the open lands around you both. 

Before his thoughts could catch up to the moment, you ran to embrace him, flinging yourself into his arms with a long awaited kiss. Javier grunted softly against your lips, staggering back to support you, the extra attention only reminding him how saddle sore he really was.  

Just for a moment things felt normal, a feeling he was searching for since you split. He had a place in this cruel world once again, everywhere had a price on his head, no place to retreat to besides you— you were home. 

Perhaps he could head tail between his legs back to Allende, saying you disappeared. 

Maybe he could take you to Canada, or a tropical island— oh, anywhere but Guarma. 

We must leave,

Javier’s unsaid words pricked beneath his skin, prodding relentlessly at his deepest desires for redemption. 

“Oh—amor.” 

Was all the man could choke out, the words exiting pitiful and weak, a near cry for help you assumed was just your bittersweet reunion. 

Leaning away you smiled coyly at him, admiring your lost cowboy;

Your time apart was not easy on Javier, his hardened stare and the chip on his shoulder now set in stone. 

The constant blazing sun of Mexico, along with surviving off rationed canned beans really took a toll on the man. His face was dull and lacking the usual pigment he wore so handsomely when Mr. Pearson cooked for everyone. 

Javier’s newfound demeanor only put emphasis on his sharp brows peeking from under his bowler cap brim, residing above dark cunning eyes, ready to match any cowpuncher who dared challenge him. 

Over Javier’s shoulder was where his mount rested, hoove digging into the dirt at the end of the cabin’s path. 

“—and Boaz?” You began after a shared silence, slowly approaching the overworked horse. 

“Still kickin’.” He uttered gently, a large hand scratching the back of his neck. 

Boaz never really liked you, or anyone besides Javier that is. It wasn’t until the gang hunkered down in Colter for the stubborn bastard to take a liking to you. 

The weather and unpredictable circumstances was not easy on the gang, including the horses, causing rations to be small among the mounts. 

You always carried treats in your satchel to gain Boaz’s affection, and your efforts would eventually succeed in Colter. You would secretly slip him sugar cubes every time you left the shack, he must have appreciated the extra attention. Javier barely recognized Boaz trotting up to him in the snow, you mounted on top wearing a proud grin. 

You wore a similar grin now, full of satisfaction and pride that he returned to you— with warmth flowing through him, his heart rapidly thumped in his ears, all the pent up feelings for you were reopening like floodgates. 

“What’a nice feller, huh.” You cooed to the mount after a slow approach. 

Showing no distress Boaz allowed your kind pats and rubs. Tenderly nudging you, the horse’s chops tried sneaking its way into your pockets, searching for the snacks you usually held after a long journey. 

“Ai, fácil!” 

Javier exclaimed, quickly guiding Boaz’s large snout away, the loving gestures nearly toppling you over. 

“Guess I’m glad he still remembers me.” You beamed, tipping your hat lower to shield yourself from the beating sun. 

“Or perhaps your donations, amor.” Javier quipped softly, his eyes wandering meekly. 

Something besides time passing seemed different about him, you could not quite pinpoint it. Javier was always a timid man at first when it came to his lover, maybe your time apart presented this old side of him. 

You knelt slightly, peeking under his sunken head which hung towards the ground. 

“Javier? You don’t look so good.” 

Your soft words managed to dig their way through his ringing ears, the man squinted his eyes tightly before swiping his lids with rough fingers. 

“Uh— maybe you oughta sit for a bit, I think you’re overdressed for this heat.” 

Your words broke through once again, giving a small tug on his poncho, his disoriented vision cluttered with black floating spots as you guided towards the porch. 

As his vision continued to warp, the cabin doubled and skewed while you put him in the shade. 

Javier knew you were speaking, your voice fading in and out irreguarly, piercing his ears every so often. 

The words felt like they were being consumed by the ocean, his head bobbed up and down as if he were drowning. All he could think about was Dutch’s screams over the storm and waves, as he was about to be consumed by the large void. 

But Dutch snagged him before being swept away, yanking him upon the tiny rowboat that threatened to tip from the added stress. Javier’s senses were waterlogged, rejecting the mean salty water from his lungs. As he gasped for air; the only thing he thought of was you. 

“S’alright, son, You’re not dying today!” Was the first thing he heard. He faded in and out of consciousness as Dutch beat the sea water out of him, his ribcage rattling under each and every smack. 

Javier sometimes wonders if Dutch should have just let him die, abandon him and allow the dark waters to engulf him whole, repaying his sins to his maker. Maybe his death would free you of your burdens. 

He felt like his time had withered before Dutch had saved him anyways. Being a prisoner in Guarma is what convinced him that he would never make it back to you, sealing the deal. Your previous words borrowed time scratched at his skin again, yearning to be acknowledged. 

“Ah well, I knew you’d come crawling back, you’re here for a reason.” You would always say to him after a particularly dangerous run with the gang. He would dismiss you with a mumble and a kiss, but always knew he was lucky to be alive as more of his brothers began to fall. 

Sometimes he would catch you talking to a disgruntled Arthur as he packed his horse. 

Upon inquiring about your words, Arthur being a somewhat vague man would shortly grumble; 

“Jus’ focus on the job, and returnin’ to your woman, Javier.” 

—and he always did. Javier knew you did not worry about him much, at least outwardly. But he did notice Arthur’s presence whenever trouble presented itself. 

~

“Javier— some water.” 

Your words along with a canteen dangled in front of him, the prior hallucination of a watery grave was almost enough to empty his stomach. 

Javier stared back towards your shire lounging in his corral, his mind once again wandering back to the life he could have had with you. 

In the midst of his tunneling vision, a lean coyote lingered through his gaze, stalking towards him, icy eyes sending daggers into his before diminishing. 

“Javier. Say something.” Your words were now much clearer to him, breaking through his consciousness, the ringing disappeared from his mind fog. 

“‘M alright.” He muttered, spitting out the bitter taste from his mouth. 

“I reckon you oughta take it easy, being an old man n’ all now.”

Javier frowned at you and blinked a couple times, jaw agape, processing the pun you made at his dismay. 

“Ha— so sorry, chica, ‘suppose I’m no longer the young buck you remember.” 

He replied sarcastically, his voice both bold and hoarse as he raised back to his feet, every step whining for rest. 

“Ride with me?” Javier suddenly asked as if nothing happened. It took you by surprise, he had just arrived after all. 

“Alright.” You obliged shortly after a pause. “Let me grab my belt.” You continued, motioning towards the missing holsters on your frame. 

“No need.” He cut you off quickly, his voice leaving traces of urgency. 

“Boaz is packed.” 

You eyed him up, watching the man shutter under your antagonizing gaze, how he hoped you were not suspicious of his intentions after all this time. But rightfully so, the man was yellow-bellied. 

But you had no reason not to trust him. 

You were not exactly sure where Javier was taking you, but for now his company was enough to keep you satisfied. The ride was eerily quiet, even for his standards, being a man of few words. 

After riding a little down south he brought you to a small mountain that overlooked Mexico. He perched you both on a small flat area, just in time for the sun to sink below the land. 

Javier stared over the horizon, he never really did think about how big the south was, yet how small he felt in comparison. A glimmer caught onto his peripheral, turning towards the shine was the pendent he had given you, when you both first started running with the gang. 

The feeling presented itself again, feeling so small in the world— you were the home he had been searching for since the gang's fallout. It was always you. 

He sank into his memories, a vessel of his former self was all that remained. 

You two were quite away from your newly shared camp, with all the members and leads, the moments you had alone became quite sparse. 

“What do you think, Javi?” Your sudden presence caught him off guard. 

“The gang?—“ he pondered your words, leaning against a shady oak. 

“I suppose they’re family for now, señorita. We’re much safer, and they’re good to us.” Javier replied, a hand brushing over the stubble on his jaw. You smiled gently with a nod, making your uneasiness all too obvious. 

“It’s just temporary, amor, once we have the money to get on our feet— it’ll be the two of us again.” He reassured, a polite arm sliding around your waist. 

Javier remembers the look in your eye, doubtful and full of sorrow, but you still trusted him, knowing he would never lead you astray. The same he thought about Dutch.  

Repositioning himself behind you, he dug a necklace from his pocket, draping it over your chest and clasping it. You fidgeted in surprise against his movements, gazing down at the beautiful silver pendant that glistened off the very same sun. Before you could say a word he planted a kiss on your lips, gentle and quick before mounting Boaz. 

“I promise!” 

He called out. After blowing a kiss to you, he was off to assist the gang. He didn’t have much money at the time, but Javier always knew how to make things work—

Oh how naive of him— bright eyed and lovesick, he wanted to make a woman out of you, settle down. That is, before Dutch’s plan captivated him. Which ultimately led to this mess, but who is he kidding, he never really had a chance anyways. 

Javier thought back with immense regret, wishing he was more romantic with you in a way, officially making you his chica earlier on, instead of prolonging it due to the possibility of death. He always feared that courting would further your heartbreak if something bad were to happen. 

It was his own unaddressed way to cope with the harsh reality of survival and being an outlaw, he always prioritized your safety over intimacy until joining the gang. When he looks back on it, your shared time at Horseshoe Overlook and Clemons Point were some of the best times of his life. 

Around that time of riding with the gang was when your relationship with him really began to evolve. The potential competition of other men drove Javier and his intimacy up a wall— his usual gentle lips ghosting over yours turned into small nips, and purple blotches he would mark on your neck late at night. A tight palm covering your mouth which muffled the moans of his name, words the man would kill to hear in such an uncaged manner. He entertained no confusion of who you belonged to; even if he did not make things official until that night at the lake.  

Javier had nearly forgotten the sun had already set, and he somehow had no recollection of it. He looked down at you, only in a thin shirt as you gazed longingly off the mountain side.

The final sunset you shared was simply a ticking clock for him. 

“Cold?” He whispered, words he could barely choke out. 

“A little.” You replied, big doe-like eyes staring up at him, holding so much love for the man. Love he was not sure he ever deserved. 

Forcing his gaze away quickly he arose, soles of his feet vibrating and pulsing with each step. After approaching Boaz his shaking hands freed his bedroll clasps, attention locked upon his rifle poking out of the saddle. 

His head spun, finally digging himself out of his trance. After returning to you, he draped the cloth over you coyly. 

“You okay?” You suddenly asked, your hush voice startling him, he sighed in despair. 

The words you said to him at Beaver Hollow replayed through his mind,

Leave with me. Let’s run away. 

But he could not get them out, his chest quivered under the constraint of his uneven breaths. 

“Course.” He managed to form the word, you nodded in contentment, fresh air filling your nose. 

His response would have to do for now, you decided to cut him some slack since he returned to you, after all. 

By now you knew him well enough. Some nights he would stay up and collect his thoughts before laying beside you. You always respected his space, he had his demons, like everyone else. Soon enough in your slumber  you would feel his protective arms drape around you, his steady breaths hitting the nape of your neck, tense body encapsulating yours— those were the nights you felt the safest, and knew he was going to manage just fine. 

Other nights Javier would stay up while you were by your lonesome. He always feared something would kill the both of you while asleep, reluctantly you agreed. But the man always let you rest, you needed it more, that is for putting up with him all day round. 

Your memories swam with always being coaxed to sleep, eventually giving into the soft lulls he would sing. A wordless agreement that there was no point for the both of you to be cranky and tired in the morning. 

��But there he sat, only to turn into the monster he swore to protect you from. 

“I love you, Javier.” 

Your words racked his brain, digging and clawing invasively into each one of his bones. Javier thought he imagined them until he looked over to find you staring this entire time. You knew there was something seriously wrong, but surely he would tell you within due time. 

Javier’s voice was lost, swallowing suppressed sobs down his dry throat, he nearly felt like he was drowning once again in the frame he called a body. 

Just like the days he would not say it back while pursuing a lead, with doubts he would not make it back to your arms— but he always did, it was the least he could do. It felt like lifetimes ago to him, how could the man choke out a te amo before sending you in? 

Instead, he planted a kiss on your soft lips, lingering there for a moment, knowing it would be your last. 

Looming below in the shadows, trailing to the border resided monsters he used to protect you from— two Mexican soldiers camped out by the tracks. Their lanterns flickering softly in the distance, patiently waiting for the man to arrive at the agreed meeting spot. 

Javier shivered, feeling like a young boy again. His eyes fixated on the stock of his rifle that Boaz held. 

Your breaths became shallow, harmonizing with the warm night’s breeze as you fell into a slumber. You trusted Javier’s judgment on setting up camp or heading home, you perhaps allowed yourself to get a little too comfortable. 

It all happened so fast for him, and there was no going back. Javier’s mind blurred as he rode, Boaz fussing and fighting under his control. His very own horse feared the  monster he had become, maybe poor Boaz thought he was Javier’s next victim. 

He rode fast— but not fast enough to flee from himself. 

A coyote lurked around the darkness, gazing at Javier from behind the two Mexican soldiers who taunted him, puffing on their big cigars from Uncle Sam.  

The coyote disappeared as Javier reached for his revolver, patiently waiting for the man to shoot him— but he never did. 

The soldier simply laughed, knowing Javier’s bark had no bite. While under Allende’s power, he was simply a coward a soldier would not even match out of pity.  

Soon enough the two men fled into the night, banter that could be heard a mile away through the ravines. Anyone could have mistaken them for sick hyenas. 

He could hear their stallions riding hard in triumph, with a new prize Javier held so close for many years, he watched the soldiers grow smaller and smaller over the uneven land until the darkness swallowed them whole, taking a piece of him along. 

The nighttimes ahead would find Javier in a one horse town saloon, nodding off more times than he could remember. His glass turned from full to empty until his vision doubled. 

Javier was not sure how many days had passed, the whiskey dulling his mind and senses, but the thoughts still ate him alive. 

Did you think he would come for you? Or would you be envious, spilling everything you could before meeting the gallows. 

Javier hid in his palms, knowing he got it all wrong— it should have been him. 

It did not take too long for the man to get kicked out from the saloon due to his drunken stupor, not even the bartender wanted his dirty money. 

Javier took Boaz to what he thought was east, the coyote returned to accompany him, lurking around on the monotone forest floors he traveled. 

The night breeze made Javier reminisce of the times at camp, the very same breeze that whipped through your hair as you would drag him off somewhere secluded, your mischievous grin reflecting off the summer night's moon as you snuck off into the bushes. 

You gave everything to each other— all for nothing it seems.

Javier sank lower into himself before eventually staggering off Boaz. It only took him a few unsteady steps to empty his bowels on the dirt path, elbows hoisting him up on his shaky bent knees. 

Peeking out from his jacket cuff was a scar he once wore proudly on his wrist. A scar he earned in some honky tonk town just because another man looked at you wrong. The mere thought of it worsened his nausea.  

All signs pointed to you, and you were gone because of reasons he barely understood himself— He feared he didn’t know what loyalty was anymore. Or what he stood for in fact. 

Your blind love killed you in the end, and it was his cross to bear. 

The sky was dark and dull, which was just as familiar as a bottle and a glass. Not a single star in the sky greeted him, leaving him to fester alone. 

The wind howled violently through the trees, causing the leaves to rustle and sway. A northern was quickly sneaking upon the lands of New Austin. 

His lone coyote joined him on a distant cliffside, coat black as sin, mocking the cowboy who lingered below. 

~

[bookofmirth]

What could happen to the Prison in acotar5?

As a preview, this post is going to be hella long. It focuses on things we learned primarily on acosf and hofas. It also discusses the Illyrians and the Valkyries, Pegasuses, the 8-pointed star, and the fallout from Avallen being restored by Bryce. 

The tl;dr is that I think that the Valkyries (and potentially some Illyrians) could serve as guardians for the Prison, along with being a neutral political force and army in Prythian, not aligned with a specific court but rather being a balance between them all. 

Before you proceed, be aware that I tend towards analysis of the current content of the books, not theorizing about what will happen in the future, so this may not read like theories that other people in the fandom come up with. A majority of this is facts from the books, with me tying things together to think about the implications.

Part one: what we know based on HOFAS

First, it's helpful to get some context for what we know (for sure) about the Prison:

It was the land of dusk (not a Court in the way Prythian currently has courts).

After the events with Fionn, Theia, Helena, Silene, and Pelias, the land was mostly abandoned.

When Silene returned from Midgard, she created the Prison in order to hide the Harp, using the monsters she put there to deter anyone from looking for it. Silene decided if this place was seen as cursed, then let it be cursed.

We also find out that Silene left her portion of Theia's light under the Prison, which Bryce then took.

There is also a large cache of firstlight remaining under the Prison.

When Bryce used Truthteller and Gwydion/the Starsword to heal Avallen, Pegasuses appeared again.

Avallen and the Prison are in "thin" spots in the universe that make it easy to travel from one planet to the other (fwiw, this idea is not unique to sjm. See: Stephen King.) These spots are identifiable by the mists that surround them.

These thin spots are also on the nexus of ley lines, where energy flows.

It stands to reason that when Bryce "unlocked" Avallen, the energy and magic that it now experiences will flow to other places along the ley lines, IE the Prison. It's also implied that the land keeping the power imprisoned is one of the reasons it grew sick.

Bryce's actions in hofas have implications for Prythian. While the above is related to the Prison, we also have:

Nesta now has possession of the Starsword/Gwydion

Azriel's reaction to Truthteller and the Starsword being together

The 8-pointed star (more on that later)

Part two: what we know based on ACOSF

So based on this information, we need to go back to acosf and look at what sjm left for us. 

The main thing to keep in mind is that Nesta found the Harp in the Prison, and that it was laying on an 8-pointed star. 

One of the main dangling threads from acosf - that we know to be canon, that is not a theory or supposition - is that the Illyrians and the Valkyries are going to continue training together. We know that Mor is interested in training with the Valkyries. From hofas, we know that Nesta is every bit as well trained now as she was in the months since acosf.

Now, there are a couple of partially-fulfilled statements from acosf that I think are relevant here, in addition to Valkyries and Illyrians continuing to train.

The first is the wish that Nesta made on the friendship bracelets. 

"I wish for us to have the courage to go out into the world when we are ready, but to always be able to find our way back to each other. No matter what." (chp 59)

We know that in the Blood Rite, the second half of that wish was fulfilled. The first half has not been fulfilled yet. That gives us very good reason to assume that the first half will be fulfilled.

All three of them, Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn, will go out into the world at some point in the future. 

There is another, much larger implication that was made in acosf:

Nesta smirked. “If we are to be Valkyries born again,” she said, “maybe we should combine the Illyrian and Valkyrie techniques.” She’d meant it in jest, but the words rumbled through the space, as if she’d spoken some great truth, something that made fate sit up. Azriel turned to them fully this time, eyes narrowed. Like those shadows had whispered something to him. A chill breathed down Nesta’s spine. Cassian stared into their faces. Like he beheld something he hadn’t seen there before. (chp 44)

And the later on:

Gwyn whispered, “I am the rock against which the surf crashes.” Nesta straightened at the words, as if they were a prayer and a summons. Gwyn lifted the blade. “Nothing can break me.” Cassian’s throat tightened, and even from across the ring, he could see Nesta’s eyes gleaming with pride and pain. Emerie said, “Nothing can break us.” The world seemed to pause at the words. As if it had been following one path and now branched off in another direction. In a hundred years, a thousand, this moment would still be etched in his mind. That he would tell his children, his grandchildren, Right then and there. That was when it all changed. Azriel went wholly still, as if he, too, had felt the shift. As if he, too, were aware that far larger forces peered into that training ring as Gwyn moved. (chp 60)

SJM used similar phrasing in the same book for which we know the consequences: 

Strike after strike, and Cassian could have sworn the world paused as she unleashed herself with the same intensity she brought to training.

This is when Nesta is Making the weapons, which we find out later is actually a significant moment, not just Cassian being hyperbolic about how great his mate is. Then, when Nesta is using the Mask and Harp to heal Feyre, the world also pauses. This phrasing is used when something important is happening - even if we don't know what the implications are, yet.

Given that we know for sure that the Illyrians and the Valkyries are going to continue training, and there are loose threads because we don't know the implications of fate/the world standing up at Nesta's, Emerie's, and Gwyn's statements and/or actions, there is a very, very good chance that the Valkyries will continue being a big part of acotar. 

My final point about the Valkyries is that in myth, they rode horses through the sky - not Pegasuses because those are from Greek myth, and Valkyries are Norse. But they fly through the sky on horses nonetheless. (This is literally the only piece of evidence I have coming from outside the books.) Pegasuses are connected to Avallen and likely the Prison. We know that Helion keeps some, but they are struggling to breed/thrive. (We also know that sjm loves to take what she wants from myth, so it’s not a stretch to think she’d shrug at the Greek/Norse distinction.)

All of this together tells me that the Valkyries have more story coming, and it is connected to the Illyrians'.

Part three: The 8-pointed star

A common thread between both series is the 8-pointed star. There are a few ways in which it is used:

Nesta and Cassian's bargain tattoo in acosf. They both had this tattoo on them - an Illyrian and a Valkyrie. 

Bryce also has the 8-pointed star on her chest that glows when she is near people who will aid her or who are part of the Starborn line. When she took the piece of Theia's light, it went into her star and powered her up.

The Harp was resting on an 8-pointed star in the Prison, where Silene left it.

In HOFAS, Bryce put Truthteller and Gwydion into the slots of an 8-pointed star in order to revive Avallen.

When training, Cassian teaches the Valkyries the 8-pointed star sequence. This is a series of moves that they make with a sword, and is an Illyrian technique. 

Cassian walked her through eight different cuts and blocks. Each was an individual move, he’d explained, and like the punches, they could be combined. (chp 38) “I’d thought today would be a good day to integrate the eight-pointed star, but if you’re already complaining, we can wait until next week.” (chp 44) Nesta lifted the sword and executed a perfect arcing slash. Her weight shifted to her legs just as she flipped the blade, leading with the hilt, and brought up her arm against an invisible blow. Another shift and the sword swept down, a brutal slash that would have sliced an opponent in half. Each slice was perfect. Like that eight-pointed star was stamped on her very heart. (chp 50)

And finally, at the end of HOFAS, Bryce gives Gwydion to Nesta and tells her to explore the 8-pointed star:

“I think that eight-pointed star was tattooed on you for a reason. Take that sword and go figure out why.”

Note that it’s not just a matter of the star, anymore. Both Cassian and Nesta were tattooed with it; Bryce used Gwydion and Truthteller to activate the star in Avallen. And now, Nesta is in possession of Gwydion with knowledge about the Prison and a connection to the star. There are elements coming together, and those elements are connected to both Illyrians AND Valkyries. 

My thinking is that the 8-pointed star is the symbol of the dusk land, the Starborn Princes in Midgard (Theia) and in Prythian, of the first and only High King. If that land is where the Valkyries will be reborn and where Starborn power is from, and we know it is the source of a huge cache of firstlight, then that star is a symbol of what has been lost - and what is about to be revived.

So now the question is - what part will the Valkyries and Illyrians play?

Part four: What might happen to the Prison?

To sum up the above, and adding on a couple of small points that don’t fit elsewhere:

We know that the Illyrians and Valkyries will continue training

We have very heavy-handed phrasing around the world/fate paying attention to the idea of the Valkyries being reborn and working with Illyrians.

We have the connection between Valkyries, Illyrians, and the 8-pointed star because it is also an Illyrian sword technique that is being taught to the Valkyries.

We know that the Prison is going to go through some changes akin to puberty.

In addition, we have Gwyn being allowed to write the Valkyries into the books she is researching. 

SJM has also said that Nesta’s story is going to continue.

Since we know that the Prison is going to change and there are these characters and groups poised for action - I haven’t even touched on Ramiel and the Illyrians being created by the Dagsteri, Azriel and his connection to Truthteller and Enalius, and his reaction to the TT/Gwydion, and will do that in a separate post - we can make some predictions about how that might look. If it’s going to make sense, sjm has to think beyond the magic system that she has… sort-of established, and past the involvement of individual characters. There are a few things to take into consideration with the Prison.

It is very likely that Pegasuses will return to the island as it is suffused with magic and energy again. 

There are also other, unforeseen magical consequences as the magic flows back into it, thanks to the ley lines being “unblocked” by Bryce. 

It may become easier for people/creatures to travel between worlds, given that it is a thin place that has been "unlocked". 

The Prison is still full of prisoners! They are monsters that Silene gathered to hide the Harp, but... does that mean they just get released? Get slaughtered? Do they now have access to the power of the island? What is going to happen with them? 

The High Lords cannot all be trusted to stay within their own courts, minding their own business. Beron is the most obvious example, as he has his eye on Spring while Tamlin is Suffering. 

If there were another court established, one that sits on a huge reserve of firstlight, that could be a huge point of contention amongst the courts. Even if the High Lords don’t want it for themselves, they wouldn’t want anyone else to have it on the chance that one of them would use it against the others. In acomaf, Rhys explains that the Prison is keyed to his blood and that he has jurisdiction of it; however:

“Do all the High Lords have access?” My words were so soft they were devoured by the dark. Even that thrumming power in my veins had vanished, burrowing somewhere in my bones. “No. The Prison is law unto itself; the island may be even an eighth court. But it falls under my jurisdiction, and my blood is keyed to the gates.” (chp 18)

We don’t know yet what that reserve of firstlight is going to mean for the island.

To me, it makes sense for us to have a more neutral third party come in. One who doesn’t have ties to a specific court, but could act in all of their interests. 

Enter: the newly reformed Valkyries. 

I have had a personal headcanon that the Valkyries, once fully established, could create another political/martial entity in Prythian that can help balance the power between all the courts, and provide support when needed. This is how they worked before, which Cassian talks about in acosf: 

“The Valkyries fought when even the bravest males would not. The Illyrians tried to forget that. I fought against males who were my superiors, arguing to help the Valkyries. They beat me senseless, chained me to a supply wagon, and left me there. When I came to, the battle was over, the Valkyries slain.”

Valkyries and Illyrians don’t have the best history, but given that Cassian tried to help them, and that they are working together now, this could be a way of righting a wrong. It could help to explain why fate/the world is taking note. 

The Valkyrie ethos makes sense for this sort of neutral position, too:

“A clan of female warriors from another territory. They were better fighters than the Illyrians, even. The Valkyrie name was just a title, though—they weren’t a race like the Illyrians. They hailed from every type of Fae, usually recruited from birth or early childhood. They had three stages of training: Novice, Blade, and finally Valkyrie. To become one was the highest honor in their land. Their territory is gone now, subsumed into others.”

An improved Valkyrie force, especially if they continue learning Illyrian techniques and recruiting from women across Prythian, could be a big factor in upcoming conflicts with Kochei or any other villain sjm comes up with. They would ensure that the firstlight would be used fairly, so that no court is advantaged or disadvantaged unfairly. It would continue the threads that sjm has left for us, while also giving us space to explore questions that have yet to be answered (such as Azriel’s connection to Truthteller and Enalius). While I think that Nesta would keep her home in the House of Wind, the Prison island would be a good place from which the Valkyries can work - both guarding the monsters that are there, and keeping the firstlight safe.

I believe that Nesta will be the most important character when it comes to reviving the island; while it is heavily implied that the island is already going to have access to its powers thanks to being impacted by Avallen's healing - it is likely already on its way to healing - Nesta with her connection to the 8-pointed star, the Harp, possession of Gwydion, and the Valkyries can help bring stability to the place.

Thank you a million times to the people who helped me fact check and keep things straight, or just listened to me rant about this: @hellacioushag @lily-thesuriel @elains @aionuel @yazthebookish @fracturedarkness and @/michaelanoelreads on TikTok :) @highqueenmorrigan (Mary I forgot you brought up the sword technique thank you for that!)

[theladyofshalott1989]

🏳️‍🌈 Queer Hogwarts: Legacy Fanfic Masterlist

Hogwarts: Legacy fans, whether you be a creative yourself or a content consumer, send me your queer content and recs! I will update this list regularly. LGBTQIA+ inclusive Guidelines for Submission: - The main pairing should be on the LGBTQIA+ Spectrum - If the main pairing isn't queer, then the author should be - Self-recs are welcome and strongly encouraged! - Please include the author's username, a link to the fic or series, any pertinent categories, and specify any possible triggers and/or warnings (same as you would do for AO3). Note: I will do my best to double-check for triggers and warnings as well.

List of fics after the cut:

Sebastian Sallow x Male MC (m/m) fics:

Angst, happy ending, post-canon, multi-chapter, Transmasc main character x Sebastian Sallow, werewolves as queer allegory, trans and gay author (@heyitszev on Tumblr):

✪ To be Loved is to be Changed series by Unreliablenarrator on AO3

The events of Hogwarts: Legacy through post-canon, multi-chapter, Sebastian Sallow POV, bisexual Sebastian Sallow, friends to lovers, banter, relic possession, Ravenclaw Male main character x Sebastian Sallow, bi author (@theladyofshalott1989 on Tumblr) *Content warnings: The second multi-chapter fic ("Burning Bright") is underage explicit.

✪ The Like Moths to a Flame Series by TheLadyofShalott1989 on AO3

Coming of age, post-canon, multi-chapter, Multiracial Slytherin Male main character x Sebastian Sallow (@dom1re on Tumblr):

✪ The Keepers by domire on AO3

Imelda Reyes x Nerida Roberts (f/f) fics:

Fluffy romance, broken friendship, found love, love confessions, first kiss, one-shot (@amberlide on Tumblr):

✪ Reflection by Amberlide on AO3

Imelda Reyes x Female MC (f/f) fics:

Romantic gesture, Quidditch team spirit, banter, post-canon, one-shot, Gryffindor Female main character x Imelda Reyes (@ellivenollivander on Tumblr) *Content warnings: Explicit:

✪ My Colours by Ellivenollivander on AO3

Mirabel Garlick x Female OC (f/f) fics:

Muggle/witch relationship, fluff, introspection, declaration of love, one-shot (@libellule-ao3 on Tumblr) *Content warnings: Mature rating, implied sexual content:

✪ Late Bloom by Libellule_Sulfureuse on AO3

Natsai Onai x Female OC (f/f) fics:

Established relationship, fluff, introspection, one-shot, werewolf Female OC (@boxdstars on Tumblr) *Content warnings: Nondescript gore mentioned in passing:

✪ Cold Mornings by boxdstars on Tumblr

Poppy Sweeting x Female MC (f/f) fics:

Developing relationship, post-canon, multi-chapter, Slytherin Female main character x Poppy Sweeting (@celestial--sapphic on Tumblr):

✪ Kiss me (like you wanna be loved) by Celestial__sapphic on AO3

Friends to lovers, idiots in love, slow-burn, post-canon, multi-chapter, Hufflepuff Female main character x Poppy Sweeting (@espressoristretto-patronum on Tumblr):

✪ To me, she is the sun by espressoristrettopatronum on AO3

Poppy Sweeting x Female Reader (f/f) fics:

Friends to lovers, fluff, minor queer angst, post-canon, one-shot, second-person POV (@crushribbons on Tumblr) *Content warnings: Explicit:

✪ honeysuckle by crushribbons on Tumblr

Prewlow (Leander Prewett x Sebastian Sallow) (m/m) fics:

Trans male character, bi male characters, friends to lovers, Leander Prewett x Sebastian Sallow (@rypnami on Tumblr) *Content warnings: Implied/mild transphobia:

✪ more than anything by starryflight on AO3

Sebinis (Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt) (m/m) fics:

Pining, banter, chess, post-canon, one-shot, Ominis Gaunt x Sebastian Sallow (@the-invisibility-bloke, @kis0_0kis on Tumblr) *Content warnings: Explicit:

✪ The Last Gambit, written by the_invisibility_bloke, illustrated by kis0_0kis on AO3

Garreth Weasley x Male MC (m/m) fics:

Multiple Player Characters, Canon divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Slow-burn, Mutual Pining (@saibugslegacy on Tumblr)

✪ A Mourning Warning, written by saibugfics on AO3

Bisexual Garreth Weasley, POV Garreth Weasley, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Loss of Virginity, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Dark Garreth Weasley (@pheexblack on Tumblr) *Content warnings: Explicit

✪ Snake in the Lion's Den, written by PheexBlack (Shanza_Bonanza) &  OmbeodBlack on AO3

Poly fics:

Modern Day AU, F/M/M, one-shot, smut, Female MC x Sebastian Sallow x Garreth Weasley (@pheexblack on Tumblr) *Content warnings: Explicit:

✪ Dare-aoke Night by Shanza_Bonanza on AO3

Morally gray MC, post-canon, dark content, Anne & Solomon bashing, dubious happy ending, multi-chapter, Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt x Gender Neutral MC *Content warnings: Explicit:

✪ Everybody Wants To Rule THEIR World by Jazlyn_Riddle on AO3

Multi-ship fics:

Fix-it, found family, multi-chapter, Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt, Anne Sallow x Female main character, eventual Anne Sallow x Female MC x Poppy Sweeting (@gothic-lottie on Tumblr) *Content warnings: Major and minor character death:

✪ The Tales of Isobel Morgana series by Gothic_Lottie on AO3

AroAce fics:

Trans Male main character, adoption, coming out (@endeavour12345 on Tumblr):

✪ First Encounters by Endeavour12345 on AO3

Let's goooooooooo! Send me ALL THE QUEER CONTENT (please and thank you) <3333333

Also, authors, if you see your content here and are not happy with how it is categorized, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE reach out to me and I will happily change anything and everything (even remove you from the list if you don't want to be on it!). THANK YOU, LOVELIES. You are loved and appreciated <333333 I should also note I've never done a masterlist before, so please bear with me as I'm learning. Phew. 😅😅😅

[beemers-hell]

HANK. HEAD CANONS. pretty please?

IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE

Hank HCs!

Early 50s

AMAB that doesn't really give a shit about gender, has what i like to describe as "object permanence romance" i.e. he doesn't think about or want to engage in romantic situations unless it's offered to him, or more or less, he dgaf until he visibly percieves the romantic/even sexual thing in front of him!

Around 7'00", was originally 6'02" but kept getting larger due to his body being modified the more times he died!

Boricua

The Three A's as my guy Blade describes it: Autistic, Albino, and has Alopecia!

His body is more or less not really his own anymore, he's kind of a Frankenstein's monster of dead bodies brough back to life. Due to this, he has all sorts of aches and pains from his body not really matching any one source within him, as well as minor complications stemming from the fact that Doc really isn't a doctor, he just knows how the body works! Sanford takes care of fixing anything major that pops up with his body failing or rejecting parts since he actually has field experience/knowledge, while Doc takes care of the more cybernetic parts of Hank's innards that he's needed to install over the years.

Seems to be over and or understimulated like, 24/7, this dude hasn't really felt peace in a LOOOOOOOOONG time which explains why he's such a jackass a majority of the time. He's capable of showing care for others but he's just in a bad mood all the time from being either over or under stimulated.

Like I mentioned with Doc's HC post, the two were once together, before the events of the series, but eventually drifted apart in a romantic sense after things got bad. It was clear him and Doc's goals were vastly different, which led to them splitting. They still work together because Doc's one of the only people Hank feels like he can trust.

I don't think Hank is actually evil, he's just really fucking tired of the path he's gone down in life, but clearly the higher powers of Nevada have something else in mind for him. He feels like he has this weird feeling thats "possessing" him to some degree, not in a literal sense of possession but like in a way where he feels like something is driving him to continue his slaughter of Nevada despite him not really giving a shit anymore. He keeps it controlled by carrying contracts out for Doc, which allows him to appease that feeling of needing to kill, while also allowing him downtime to just chill the fuck out. The feeling never really goes away though, it's just always there, even if it's numbed.

Hank doesn't really care about what happens to Nevada, he just wants to dull the drive he has to kill. The fact that there's an entire agency dedicated to stopping him, which means he seemingly has an endless supply of attackers, just works out for him.

Speaking of this, Hank doesn't attack innocents. Or at least, anyone who hasn't already provoked him. Like I said, he's capable of feeling empathy for others, and can even feel remorse, which is why he isn't some mindless spree killer. He only goes for those who directly antagonize him!

Fuck you dude loves Evanescence!!!

[dr-spectre]

would Agent 4/Parallel Canon technically fit into the 'mistaken for being brainwashed when it's really something else splatoon characters' club? I saw a post collaging all of Agent 4 struggles and being brainwashed was one of them... even though Parallel Canon is just a program based on Agent 4...

Hmm.... honestly... no?

I've been really happy with the treatment of Parallel Canon in the Splatoon community!! Its been such a breath of fresh air my goddddd!!!!

It's like people who have some resemblance of a brain look at Parallel Canon and go "oh it's just clones of Agent 4." People who say it's just Agent 4 but brainwashed are actually just factually wrong LMAO! They didn't play Side Order at all. The developers outright stated in an interview, "It's clones of Agent 4's data that Overlorder collected."

The only two characters in the club are Hypno Callie and Marina Agitando.

Sanitized Agent 3 I don't have the BIGGESTTTT issue with people calling them "brainwashed" because the goop that got onto their head literally takes away "life's energies" and makes the victim submit to Tartar's will. That's just what I know about Sanitized ink but correct me if I'm wrong PLEASE!!! (My personal belief is that Agent 3 was knocked unconscious from saving Eight and Captain Cuttlefish, and Tartar took over their body via the ink while they were asleep.)

I have issue with Marina Agitando being called a "brainwashed Marina" because it's so fucking obvious that Marina got knocked unconscious and possessed by Overlorder.

GUYS ITS JUST FUCKING POSSESSION ALRIGHT?!?! ITS NOT BRAINWASHING!! MARINA IS HONK SHOO HONK SHOO MIMIMIMI!!! HER SONG IS LITERALLY CALLED UNCONSCIENCE!!!! USE YOUR BRAIN!! GOD!!!! ENOUGH!!! DON'T SAY SHE WAS HYPNOTISED EITHER!!! THERES NO EVIDENCE THAT PROVES THAT!! STOP LUMPING HER TOGETHER WITH HYPNO CALLIE AND CALLING IT THE SAME AFFLICTION!!!!! IT DAMAGES BOTH OF THEIR ARCS!!!!!

Anyhow... Hypno Callie. Here we go again...

I think what really pisses me off is that Nintendo LOVESSSS to push the "she was kidnapped and brainwashed" version of events and I find it to be not only insulting, disgusting and vile, but also incredibly damaging as well. People take Nintendo's word as fact and a holy grail, and those people include the loudest voices in the community as well as Inkipedia and it ultimately ruins Callie's arc. They love to just ruin an interesting storyline for Callie and make her this abused victim for no fucking reason other than to make Octavio more evil and not explore depth at all.

I hate how it's been run deep into a lot of people's heads and it's just... it makes me feel like a psycho sometimes... I hate feeling like I'm in the wrong... I hate how my stance keeps getting pushed down by the loudest voices...

I hate how when I say "Callie wasn't kidnapped" I get countered with "Nintendo said she was. Plus they didn't say she WASN'T kidnapped. Callie heard out the Octarians but maybe Octavio hypnoshaded her immediately after and then kidnapped her." Ugh... Does Callie ever say she was kidnapped? Marie does, but from her stance she would think so from her limited knowledge. Does Callie ever fucking state herself "I got kidnapped"? NO!!!! Until I hear her say that I refuse to believe she got kidnapped and I will continue to preach that she left with the Octarians WILLINGLY!!! AND THEN SHE GOT HYPNOTISED!!!

I dont have the energy to rant anymore man. I just can't do it. I've said this over and over again.... I hope one day things will change... but until then, I'll keep being Callie's strongest solider. I am forever cursed.

By this son of a bitch....

[kyupidos]

i wanted to write something else in regards to diasomnia, and you could say twst in general—in fact you can consider this a part two to:

but today i wanted to talk about one thing in particular:

mages, ( or at least fae ), and them being a minority group

* i’m treating these as different but connected subjects btw—separated by a header. you’ll see it, trust. el oh el.

more below the cut!

thinking about my last post, i came to the realization that i didn’t exactly specify what i meant by fae being a canonical minority race—other than of course sebek’s ordeal as a canonically mixed character. so for starters, let’s dive into that.

( there will definitely be b7 spoilers, but it’s necessary!! plus it’s restricted to lilia’s dream, so don’t worry about outside of that. )

while i’m not a fan of yana, i can admit she did an AMAZING job in realistically depicting the oppression the minority races face in twst.

you can refer to this thread:

but i’ll also be explaining it myself. fae go through a lot throughout the game, and i’m surprised people don’t think about it more often.

the vargas event sheds a good amount of light onto how fae ( specifically pixies ) are treated, which is basically dog water. their home is basically getting invaded whenever the event occurs, and each time the students are essentially being tasked with kicking them out, especially in the instances where you see how the students can’t understand what the pixies are saying due to the language barrier.

you can also refer to the fairy gala event, where the students sneak into the gala to retrieve the mage stone used for the fairy queen’s tiara. and here..sam basically admits to possessing fairy dust illegally, which is explained to be a source necessary for fae survival—which basically implies there’s fairy dust trafficking occurring in the world of twisted wonderland.

( by the way if anyone’s curious, this is occurring on chapter four of the fairy gala event ).

we even see these sorts of things outside of events—crowley keeps fire pixies in the fireplaces of nrc as a heating system, a cheap power supply.

not to mention..apparently, it’s normal to be taught how to summon them for them to do menial labor FOR you.

( * i honestly don’t get how people side with humans knowing all of this…either you missed them ( weren’t able to get to certain events ) or are late to the fandom, all of which is understandable,, or you just didn’t read. also brings me to another reason why sebek hating humans is understandable, el oh el ).

now moving on to the bit that involves the book 7 spoilers, which i believed i addressed in the first part, actually—the fact that in lilia’s dream, the fae are actively being colonized as they fight in a war against the humans. reminds you of how in real life, white people were jealous of poc’s rich land and therefore wanted to take it, no? honestly i get disgusted thinking about why people would ever have a reason to like or side with henrik. fae are effectively the minority among the minority ( like bipoc, considering they’re basically what the “i” stands for, indigenous people who had their land being stolen by the white colonizers. honestly, it’s very obvious people who side with humans in twst don’t know anything about our real world history at all ).

also, like how the thread i mentioned before talks about, there’s other things with reflect how the minorities of twst are treated: in the first halloween event with the magicam monsters, malleus’s horns are tugged on and compared to bike handles ( and i know it’s not meant to be intepreted that way but i worry about how fans do, considering how fae age works and he’s a minor, but that’s a post for another day. if you guys want to hear it, i wouldn’t mind ). the reason this being something to note is because horns are live bone, based on dragon anatomy. they have feeling in them—so when there‘s a significant amount of weight on them, it hurts.

also, nocturnal species having virtually no assistance from the school ( after all night classes are never mentioned ), octopus merfolk, hyena beastman, etc., are considered lesser. like i said, the thread is good to look at if you want more, but anyway.

( i have realized that this post is getting a big lengthy, so i’m using a header ( banner? ) to cut it up a little..patooey! not to be mean, but this is sometimes me when people purposefully are ignorant to these things. )

anyway, we now move on, finally—to mages in general and why i consider them a minority group as well, even if they’re definitely not on the scale of the fae race.

i understand where people may think that things like this aren’t just numbers. but there’s a reason why it’s referred to as “minority” and “majority”. i,, kind of thought it was obvious if you took any math class ever, but whatever. i mean even if you’re white, if you were in say, japan, you’re the minority compared to the majority which are asians/japanese in specification. i will NEVER act like white people should be considered a minority group in GENERAL considering world history ( reverse racism isn’t a thing, i reccommend looking at this. it’s a myth really ), but it is literally statistics. plus, even white people can be discriminated against, and i can admit this as a person who is bipoc ( but let’s be real you cannot be racist towards white people ).

anyway, back to twst. no matter how you look at it, mages are a minority group given the literal statistics given to you in game. only 10% of the human population hold enough magic to even lift a cup, basic level. we don’t know the percent for other races, but this is still a very telling statistic in the rarity of mages, thus making them what i call them—a minority group.

now i’ll say this; fae are born with magic, and fae have magic ingrained into their society ( plus they don’t even have experience with modern technology ), it’s a part of their day to day life, though as i mentioned before, seeing as they’re the minority among minorities especially considering the human-fae war mentioned before, that just affirms that fact that mages are to be considered rare. ( plus it’s mentioned again in b7 humans greatly outnumber the fae, and even in the world map you can see briar valley is small ).

something i’ve noted and will say right now—the fact there are mages that belong to high society doesn’t automatically mean they’re not a minority/not oppressed. like, consider actual human history. can nobility/royalty, major world leaders not be a part of an oppressed society? african leaders, mexican leaders, etc, all who are people in power, world leaders who were oppressed by colonizers and killed. being someone in power doesn’t mean you’re not oppressed. not to MENTION present day celebrities and people in power ( i mean look at meghan markle ).

it’s true, while i say “there are mages”, you can look at twst to see that a majority of them are actually well off. but personally, i see this as a fact when we look at mages, we’re focused on night raven—which is quite literally a PRESTIGIOUS and PRIVATE academy meant for mages who are the cream of the crop. of course we’re going to be presented with many mages who possess power at least even if just influentially. also, of course we’re going to be shown how mages are perceived in society comfortably. we’re in a place where mages are the majority attending night raven as the prefect, though this is about in general to the world, so there’s that.

also, the idea that non mages are the ones being marginalized against, i kind of doubt it. i think there’s a clear reason why, at the very least, it would be happening inside night raven. remember how i said white people can be discriminated against, just never be racist against? i think that’s what’s happening here, given the way riddle acts with the prefect and the fact they had a magicless upbringing in book 1. while mages are the minority in general, in night raven they’re the majority. so among the mages we see, of course it’s easy to interpret it as non mages being the ones suffering the most in twst’s society. but i don’t see it that way, especially since unreliable narration exists, like with fae vs humans.

( yk how like, restaurants based around a specific ethnicity will give people not of that ethnicity a different menu with higher prices? when mages discuss magic levels, i feel like this is the equivalent el oh el )

( and anyway, that argument clearly falls apart when you look at ruggie.. i can see him fading away right now.. a large part of his character is that he and his village are in poverty if that. wasn’t obvious. if he can belong to a prestigious academy like night raven but still be in that kind of financial state, there are obviously mages who go through the same, he was just the lucky few to manage to make it into nrc. )

also, before society became accustomed to mages. again looking to the human-fae war, there was a large period of fear where rather than mages, they were referred to as “witches and wizards”. i don’t have much to emphasize there, but there having been a period of fear like that is rather telling.

while i understand mages have a special place in the workforce ( i mean fourth year students at night raven go off-campus for hands-on learning and to go job hunting ). but also..i think that’s pretty obvious given how magic is a very important resource even still among twisted wonderland’s society. after all, henrik was mining briar valley’s resources without permission, and since one of fae’s must valued resources involved the fairy dust mentioned earlier ( aka magic based ), even though mages were still feared at the time, it’s clear that magic itself is and back then was still valued even so ( i mean obviously, who wouldn’t want magic..which brings me back to the fact of colonizers wanting poc’s rich lands and such ). it’s just now in present day twst society, mages are considered “equal”. ( riddle mentions that their current society has “growing” diversity, so i can only guess things still need change ).

which is ALSO why i don’t think rollo was right about magic…uhm..because you know, fae rely on magic to live. their day to day lives. if exterminating magic means basically also exterminating a race…i don’t know you guys i don’t think that’s right!! sweats!!

but, anyway..that’s the wrap up of this rant. if you want to ask questions, brings things up to me or anything, i don’t mind comments!! just like..be respectful yk, heh.