#at first to save her. then to honor her sacrifice. and then to save her again

[bitchliteraria1906]

Trying to write about how Kyoko and Homura being religious affects their characters but I'm not smart enough to make it coherent.

[mariasont]

Please, Don't Prove 'Em Right - A.H

a/n: my girl sabrina can do no wrong and i have been listening to this song on repeat since it came out so i just absolutely needed to write a fic about it

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: aaron hotchner is a busy man and he tends to disappoint you by missing important events

warnings: angst (sorry in advance), aaron is like not a great husband, reader is also an imperfect character, reader is a girl boss though

wc: 1.2k

You were in your best dress. More expensive than you'd ever think about buying for yourself, but it had been a gift from Aaron. You had fought him on it, scolding him for spending so much on a dress you were sure to only wear once. But he had insisted, telling you that this opportunity was once in a lifetime and that it would be a sin for it to not be celebrated with a dress that made you shine like a ruby.

He was right, partly, you were shining--glowing, sparkling, glittering--as you moved through the library. It was beautiful, to say the least--all opulence and history that was almost too much to absorb. The marble floors almost seemed to amplify the conversations around you, the clinking of glasses, the swish of overpriced gowns and tuxedos.

Your eyes settled on the tiered desks fitted with bronze reading lamps, now repurposed as a station for hors d'oeuvres and champagne. The circular arrangement of desks, once centered around knowledge, now facilitated hushed gossip and the discreet laughter of society's finest.

You could almost hear what they were thinking: there she is again without her husband, that poor thing always by herself, and your personal favorite—does he even exist?

You wanted to be angry, to scold their prying eyes, for putting their noses into something that had nothing to do with them whatsoever. But could you really blame them? Every event you attended you told the same story--my husband is a busy man with an important job--a line you had grown tired of repeating. 

And that was all true. He devoted most of his time to saving lives--how could you find fault in that? How could you complain to having a husband whose very essence was self-sacrifice and heroism?

This evening was set to be an exception; he was in New York for a case, and the Pulitzer Prize ceremony was not something he would miss. He had given you his word.

You understood his passion for his job, completely, because you held that same passion for your own. You dedicated years of your life to your journalism, investigating corruption at its highest levels. This is exactly how you ended up here tonight, nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for that very work. A Pulitzer Prize.

The term once seemed like a fantastical concept to you, a lofty accolade reserved for the likes of JFK, Bob Dylan, Robert Frost--icons, not someone as ordinary as you. Yet, against all odds, you find yourself among the select few, a nominee for an honor that has only been won by 1,512 individuals since 1917, a fact Spencer had supplied you with.

Someone was speaking to you, saying your name. Almost without thinking, your hand found a flute of champagne, taking a generous sip before turning to face them.

"You look stunning, and a well-deserved congratulations are in order. Everyone back at the office is cheering for you." It was your boss, her stilettos adding inches to her already imposing frame.

The flattery didn't quite mask her usual coldness, it was all too artificial. She wasn't your biggest fan, and she had made that clear from your first day. Still, you mustered a smile and thanked her anyway, taking another sip of champagne, hoping to drown away her nauseating voice.

"It's too bad your husband couldn't be here," she began, and you had to resist the urge to rip out her extensions. "This is an incredible accomplishment, but he's quite the busy man, as you say."

"Yes, he is busy, but he'll be here tonight," you replied, flashing her your best smile as you smoothed the red fabric that suddenly felt too tight. "He's actually here in New York on a case."

"Oh, how great. I can't wait to put a face to the name." You could tell by the look she shot her own husband that she didn't believe a word from your mouth. "Anyway, I have to go speak with an academy representative, but I'll see you and your husband at the ceremony?"

You responded with a nod, not dignifying her with words as she left, her giggles a bitter sound. You hated her. And you were ready to make her eat her words when your husband, who looked absolutely incredibly in a suit, showed up.

But then it was dinner, and you found yourself alone, surrounded by a table of important people whose names you couldn't remember. The seat beside you was empty and suddenly that omnipotent, cloud-nine feeling you had vanished with the time that passed.

The text you sent piled up, feeling a little juvenile, like you were back in high school again getting stood up at prom.

Let me know when you're close!

Is everything going okay?

Call me if you can.

An onslaught of anxious thoughts skyrocketed around your mind as you mechanically chewed the fancy food that only seemed to upset your stomach further. What if something happened? Was he okay? Did the case go wrong? Did he get in a car accident on the way here?

You were a bundle of nerves, gnawing on the inside of your mouth as your heel tapped up and down against the floor. But this wasn't borne from concern for his well-being; deep down, you were certain he was fine. The truth was simpler and sharper: he wasn't coming.

You should have been prepared, should have braced for this, but you were convinced that this time, this occasion would be an exception.

You name was being called, but this time not by someone wanting to extract prying information or stir speculation, no, this time it was carried across the crowed, wrapped in the microphone's static hum.

Your head snapped up, fingers ceasing their fidgeting as you struggled to mask the shock and avoid the gaping, breathless look of a fish out of water.

You had won.

People were clapped, but it seemed far away as you made your way to the stage, hands coming from all directions to offer pats on the back and handshakes of congratulations.

You had won.

Your feet were carrying you up a small set of stairs. You were trying to remember how to walk--left, right, heel, toe. There was a bright light on you now, prompting a slight squint and you worked to keep a smile on your face as you accepted the award.

You had to be dreaming. Had to be. There was no other explanation.

You were on display now, under the intense stage lights. Your body was on autopilot, stepping behind the podium, words flowing out of your mouth--a speech you had rehearsed over and over again in the slim chance that you would win. And here you are.

But the more you spoke the more you seemed to deviate from the script.

You paused, voice catching as you tried your best not to let the tears fall--your makeup was too pristine for smears.

"But tonight, as I accept this honor, I am reminded that while we may seek comfort in the presence of others, our truest strength comes from within." Your eyes dart around the audience, clinging to the slim chance he's there, that he showed up. "It comes from knowing that when we step into the moment, we step in with conviction, with passion, and sometimes, with a singularity that says we are enough."

The final words of your speech hang in the air, a brittle hope that disappears as quickly as it surfaced. He proved them right, and no amount of applause can drown out the sound of your heart breaking just a little.

part 2

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179

[sparklingblu]

Eroverse

Pt.3 - Alpha & Omega

Yeji x Male Reader (ft. Kazuha)

Good news. None.   

Bad news. Where do you even start?   

The worst would be the fact that you can't feel your body. Your eyes seem to be the only functioning organ. To add insult to injury, your whole body is bare, and your clothes are nowhere to be found. You curse yourself for not grabbing your clothes before you get teleported back from that boxing ring. No use regretting it now. Even if you manage to move your limbs somehow, you are trapped in a bar restroom butt naked. Can this day get even worse?   

To be honest, you expect yourself to develop some kind of resistance to all those headaches and pain after passing out four times in a day. Seems like there's no improvement. You can just hope no one comes knocking at the door. That leads you to wonder, how long have you been gone? The first time you encounter Rei or what seems to be Rei, it takes almost an hour. But at least she obeys every command you give so it isn't much of a struggle. The second time, however, you have to wrestle with Eunbi first before you finally tame her, as the quest had said. You are certain more than an hour has flown by.    

Your phone chimes with a notification nearby. No doubt from the 'Ero' app. You desperately want to check it but there's not much you can do when your body feels like a lump of clay. So, you continue doing what you initially were, staring at the ceiling. Funny enough, seeing the ceiling has become a kind of relief after losing and gaining consciousness multiple times. At least, it reminds you that you are alive.  

Once again, you can't help but think of all the unanswered questions that have piled up even more after your encounter with Eunbi. The voice that consistently keeps praising you after you complete a quest, the idols that you have met who are not actually idols. You are pretty sure about that now. Are they replicas? clones? Then what does that make you? A test subject for some crazy experiment that involve fucking idol clones? As usual, no answer.  

If you look at it from the bright side, ignoring all the pain and confusion, you have used two idols for your release already. Getting to fuck one idol should be considered universally lucky. But two? You had to save a nation in your past life for that. Whether they are real or not, they still look exactly the same so it doesn't really make a difference. However, the downside shouldn't be ignored either. If you try to complete one more quest, fuck one more idol, you might not wake up again. With each jump, your body seems to weaken. It starts with headaches and soreness and now you are paralyzed. Not really a price worth paying. You are not perverted enough to trade your life for sex.  

Actually, you might have passed that point already. If you inevitably have to die, you want to go out with honor. Not as a naked corpse in a restroom. "Oh, how did he die?" "I don't know, probably from jerking off naked in the toilet" Yep. Not a good idea.   

A few minutes pass and you start considering screaming for help. You have to sacrifice every bit of dignity you have but at least you won't die. Thankfully, it doesn't happen. Blood starts to flow again in your fingers and soon, you are well aware of the cold floor on your skin.   

You sit up groggily, propping yourself against the toilet for support. Taking a few deep breaths, you picked up the phone. The screen is full of cracks, it covers almost every part of the notification on your lock screen but without a doubt, it's from the 'Ero' app.   

"Congrats on completing your second quest. Please wait patiently for the next one"  

Typical. Just congratulations. Not to mention you nearly got killed. Thank you very much.   

Then your eyes move to the upper corner of the screen displaying the time, 8:48. You can't be sure, but you are certain no more than a few minutes have passed since you passed out. How is it possible? Even without the time you spent laying paralyzed, it takes at least an hour to do everything you have done with Eunbi. No wonder no one comes looking for you.   

Maybe time flows differently in whatever places you get teleported to. Another mystery. Your head starts throbbing, a sign of an oncoming headache. God, can that app let you off for once? There's a silver lining though. Your clothes lie in a pile in a corner. You have to shut your mouth before you start screaming with joy.   

After changing hastily and washing your face, you exit the room. Russell and the rest of the crew are still at their table, their voices getting louder by the second. The effects of all the drinks they had had are evident on their red puffy faces. They don't even seem to notice your absence except Russell, who raises his hand at the sight of you.  

"Man, you have been gone pretty long, you ok?" he asks.  

"Yeah, I'm fine.."  

"You sure? You look like you just woke up"  

He's not wrong but no use making him worried.  

"Trust me. I'm ok. Just a bit tired, i guess"  

"Have you been working late again?"  

Gosh, this guy cares about you more than your mom. You take this as your chance to get out of here.  

"Yeah, got some articles to finish. I have been procrastinating on this one I have to send tomorrow. Mind if I leave early? I need to sleep early"  

"Of course. Don't work too hard, huh? You still have to write a best-seller remember?"  

You simply smile and leave, grabbing your coat. The cold breeze offers you some comfort to the headache that's becoming unbearable. You just want to lay down on the spot and fall asleep. You walk back to your room, trying not to pass out on the way. The night is still young, and the sound of traffic and the chatter of people follows you everywhere. Ordinary people enjoying their lives unlike you, who have become a different person in just a day. You were a writer, not a good one but still an average Joe. Now, you fuck idols with the help of an app. Anyone who hear it will suggest you talk to a therapist, and you won't blame them.   

And what is it that makes the app choose you? You have no special abilities other than the fact that you can mimic animal sounds and that's not even a real talent. Perhaps luck has finally found its way to your ever unfortunate life. But can it be called luck with how you become a step closer to death with each quest you take on. 

You are so busy debating with yourself you are completely oblivious to your surroundings. If only you have turned your head to an alley across the street, you would have seen a dark figure with sparkling eyes that follow every one of your movements. A predator lurking in the shadows. 

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎  

A week has passed. The 'Ero' app is silent as ever. 

You find yourself expecting a message for another quest despite promising yourself you won't let your perversion lead you to your demise. You should really start thinking with your brain rather than your dick. 

Three days after your last quest, you even try to enter the 'Ero' app out of curiosity. The app closes automatically. After a few more tries, you give up out of disappointment and shame. Shame for trying to enter the app even after knowing the risks. Shame for being a hopeless pervert. 

You should just stick to jerking off to fancams and pictures, at least that way you won't be playing with your life or getting beat up by an idol. That's what you have been doing since you got smitten by those kpop girls but after the quests you have done, it becomes tedious. You will still pump a load or two after seeing Karina's tits or Sohee's ass but it's nothing compared to Rei's blowjob or Eunbi's titjob. You have become addicted.  

Ironically, you even find yourself dreaming of the darkness, the mahogany room and the boxing ring. This is what Eve might have felt when she's told not to eat the forbidden fruit, you think. Because forbidden things are the most tempting.  

You still write but no longer out of pleasure, just to survive. And that reminds you, you should stop eating take outs and cook something yourself for once. Your room was a mess but now it's a whole trash pile. Plastic boxes and cups from all the take outs you order lie in a mountain at the sink. The trash car comes, you are just too lazy to throw it out. And if you don't do something about that stack of papers on the table, it's gonna touch the ceiling soon.  

In short, you have become a mess. Every time your phone chimes, you would check it in a heartbeat, expecting a text from the 'Ero' app. But of course, it isn't. The app has gone ghost quiet. You are desperately seeking to complete just one more quest. One more idol to fuck. 

You rarely go outside and ignore all the messages your friends and colleagues sent you. There's only one message you want to receive which never comes. 

After a week of living like a vampire, a realization hits you. One so obvious you feel like an idiot not thinking about it sooner. All the problems you are facing are rooted from one single thing, the 'Ero' app. If you delete it, your suffering might end. You can even pretend everything that happened was a dream. 

So, you get out of the bed which you have been laying on for hours and grab your phone on the table. The sudden burst of light in the dark room as the screen opens leaves you seeing black spots. It is nighttime but you haven't opened your curtains in a while, so it doesn't really make a difference.  

You swipe till you land on the 'Ero' app. That little black heart icon. You press on it and the uninstall option pops off. 'Finally' you think. 'It's gonna be over. No more crazy stuffs' though a small voice somewhere in your mind keep insisting. 'But what of the pleasure that rivals no other? What of the idols you will meet?' 'Fuck this' you answer. It's true you are a pervert, but you are not hopeless. You won't die so that you can fuck some clone of an idol.  

Determined, you raise your thumb and nearly press on the uninstall button until-  

Your phone chimes. A notification on the top of the screen.  

"New quest ready, ready for your next adventure chosen one?" 

God damn it. Just when you are determined, this app has to come and ruin it. All the walls you have put up about not being a hopeless pervert crumbles in milliseconds. You want this after all. You don't want the app gone. You are just mas that it won't give you a quest. Now what you have been begging for a week is right in front of your eyes. You have to make a choice. Yes or No? 

This quest can be your last. A punishment for letting your dick makes your decisions. You can ignore it. Delete the app and go on with your life as normal. But will your life ever be normal after deleting the app? Who can say you won't be wondering what the third quest would be and which idol you would meet? And worst of all, you will become ordinary again without the app. No more magic portals to creepy rooms.  

You don't want to be ordinary. You have tried your best to become something others aren't all your life. Now, the chance has been presented to you. Your own personal paradise. All yours. No one else's.  

So, you tap on the message, opening the app to the loading screen with the black heart. Even the sight of it gets excitement creeping up your legs already. Then you close your eyes immediately before they get torched by that blinding flash. After waiting for a minute just to be safe, you open your eyes again. A text box sits in the center of the screen, instructions to your next quest. Except that you can't read them. 

The words are fuzzy and blurred. Some even completely redacted by black lines. It is as though someone has made them unreadable on purpose. What the hell is going on? 

This can be another challenge, a harder quest. Even more difficult than trying to defeat an idol who nearly crashes you to pulp. A higher risk of death. A tinge of regret starts to overwhelm you but it's too late. 

The all-familiar darkness envelopes you once again. Then comes the icy cold spike that tears through your organs. Your vision fades and you crumple like paper. 

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎  

Your old friend accompanies your wake. Of course, it's the headache. Fortunately, it isn't as strong as before or maybe you have just been out of touch you forget the pain. Nevertheless, you are alive.  

You don't get to celebrate much though because the sight that greets you when you open your eyes sucks the joy right out of your heart. It isn't the ceiling this time. At least seeing the ceiling would have been a comfort. What you see is anything but comforting. 

To start, you are not in a room like you were the last two quests. You are surrounded by marble columns that support the circular dome on top. A temple like those in Greek times. A huge part of the building has crumbled, giving you a clear view of what lies ahead.  

Your heart leaps. Before your eyes lies what you can only describe as an apocalyptic city. Actually, an apocalyptic Greek city. Smoke billows from several temples writhed in flames. Most of the bronze and marble statues lining the sandy paths are missing a body part, some have been completely destroyed. A colosseum crumbles to dust right in front of your eyes though you have no idea what a Roman structure is doing in a Greek city. It would have been a beautiful place if it's not for the fact that it looks like a war zone.  

The temple you are in is not holding out really well either. From time to time, debris would fall from the ceiling, and you can only hope the roof won't collapse on top of you. You try to move and that's when you realize you have been tied up. Looking down, you find yourself bound to a chair with metal chains, your hands at the back. Your legs are no exception either. They have been tied up as well. 

This quest is starting to look hopeless already. It would be so easy for someone to gut you right now and you can do nothing but watch. You could call out for help except that there isn't a living being in sight. Even if someone does come, you can't be certain if they are friends or foes. 

You remember the surge of strength that has come to you when you were at the brink of death. It would be really really helpful if you could get that kind of help right now. Though you doubt that kind of chance will be given twice. 

"Oh, he can't help you this time" As if reading your thoughts, a voice rings out behind a column.  

The owner of the voice emerges. A figure with fiery red hair wearing a top of matching color. The black jeans accentuate her slender legs. Her ruby red eyes fixed on you with a steely gaze. Yeji, the leader of Itzy. 

"Ehm....Yeji?" Obviously, the idol before you is not the real Yeji. But you ask anyway. 

"In a sense" She replies. "But that won't matter anymore after I kill you" 

Just wonderful. Another idol who wants you dead.  

"I gotta praise you though. You are pretty strong compared to those before you" 

"Others? What are you talking about?" 

"Oh, do you think you are the only one chosen by the app, chosen one?" She strains the last part just to sound sarcastic.  

"Look, I don't even understand what's happening much less answer your questions. I don't even know why you want to kill me" 

"Oh, you very much do" She snaps back. "Rei? Eunbi? The things you did to them. You are lucky I let you live this long" 

"I was just doing what the app told me to" 

"Oh, yes. That stupid 'Ero' app. You love it so much you walked right into my trap" 

The realization hits you like a bucket of cold water. The quest that arrives right when the app is nearly deleted. The distorted letters.  

"It's you" You say. "You are the one who set up this quest" 

"Correct" Her voice is dripping with glee. "Aren't I clever?" 

"Ok, Yeji....or whatever. If you let me go, I promise I won't-" 

"Oh, shut up. You will follow where your dick leads you" 

She's not wrong. Still, it sort of hurts. 

"There's nothing you will get out of killing me" You try the other route. 

"Oh, there's a lot I can get out of killing you" Yeji muses, walking closer. "And I will start by destroying the thing that have been distracting my kind" 

You don't know what she means but you don't need to wonder for long because with the flick of her wrist, your shorts come off. Look, you know some guys are really into the bondage stuff when the girl ties you up and all, but it isn't much fun when your partner is trying to kill you. But there's a bigger threat than getting killed right now. 

"Wait, you don't mean my-"  

"Dick? Yes. If it's gone, you can no longer bother us, right?" 

"You can't do that! It's illegal" 

"Look around you. You are no longer on earth" 

You are making empty threats, and you know it too well. But you don't want your bloodline to end with you. 

"Look, maybe we can make a deal or something" 

"Too late" Yeji unfolds her palm and a gladius, a roman sword, manifests out of thin air. She's definitely not human. 

You tilt your head in panic as the point hovers over your throat.  

"I should have just killed you but where's the fun in that?" 

Your breath hitches. You don't trust yourself to talk without blabbering out more pleas that will make Yeji even madder. And even worse, your dick is rock hard because of the adrenaline.  

"Bye bye" She raises the sword and brings it down on your springing mamba. You close your eyes. bracing yourself for the pain. But it never comes because a voice cuts through the tense atmosphere.  

"Wait!" Another female voice and running footsteps. You open your eyes. 

Behind Yeji is Kazuha, the japanese member of Le Sserafim. Her pink satin dresses look out of place among the ruins of the city, like a runaway bride.  

"Kazuha?" Yeji lowers the gladius. "Oh, let me guess. He sent you" 

"You need to stop this. Killing him won't stop our problems" 

"You don't know that for sure. One less candidate means less chance for the mark to emerge" 

"What mark?" instantly, you regret not keeping your mouth shut. They want to cut your dick off for christ's sake. 

"The mark of-" Kazuha starts to answer but Yeji cuts her off.  

"Shut up" Yeji snaps. "He's going to die anyway" 

"Stop this, Yeji. He's going to be so mad if he finds out" 

"So what? He has been a dick all those times. You still take orders from him?" 

"He can be crazy sometimes but it's our job to serve him" 

"Bullshit. You are just too scared to disobey" 

"Yeji, please" 

Kazuha's words have no effect. Yeji closes in on you again and raises her gladius. This time there's no escape for you.  

Then the strangest thing happens. A burst of energy erupts from your core, spreading to every cell in your body. All the fatigue and panic are gone. It's like being dipped in water when you are high. You feel pumped, ready to do anything. More specifically, ready to fuck anyone because the lust inside you has never been so strong. 

"It can't be..." Yeji backs away, dropping her gladius. Her face that of pure horror. 

You look down and nearly scream yourself. On your pelvis is an upside-down pentagram, like those used in cult rituals and its glowing red hot though you don't feel any pain. Further down is an even stranger sight. Your dick is literally glowing. Upon taking a closer look, you realize it’s surrounded by a golden aura like it's something powerful. All the chains binding you shatter to pieces, and you rise.  

"The mark" Kazuha mutters dreamily. "It's real" 

"No!" Yeji screams, falling down. "It's a myth. How could it be-" She picks up her gladius and instantly charges. You back away but there isn't a need. Because Yeji got thrown away as though hit by an invisible force. 

She crouches on the floor, panting. "This is madness" 

Kazuha just stands there frozen. Hey eyes fixed on your glowing cock. 

But you only have a single objective in your mind. Ruin Yeji. Use her. Punish her. She is nothing but an easy prey.  

"Stay away" Yeji shouts. In the end, the hunter has become the hunted. 

You close in, grabbing her wrists and pulling her up. Then you slam her onto a column. You don't intend to hurt her though. She's in for something much worse.  

"I will kill you" She mutters but the panic is clear as day in the way her words stutter. Grabbing her waist, you trace your lips across the pulsing veins of her neck all the way to her jaw. Then a bite on her earlobe. Yeji squirms. 

"Still want to kill me?" The question is left unanswered as Yeji's lips part to give way to your tongue, which invades into her oral opening. Yeji's pupils widen when her own tongue got tickled by the foreign one. Her screams come out muffled. Yeji tries to pull away but the grip of your lips on hers is stronger than ever.  

All the while, your hands make their way down to her waist belt, enjoying the feeling of her firm skin. Sliding down further, you slip into her jeans, squeezing that tone ass of hers.  

The writhing of her body is cut short when you slid a finger into her tight asshole, which makes her limp like a rug doll. At first, it's hard to move much with how hard her hole grips you but after a few pumps, it starts to oblige, allowing swifter movements.  

As you finger her asshole, you don't stop the mouth action either. You can no longer tell whose mouth is moister as your saliva got mixed from how long you have been tasting her. All that matters is you keep her mouth shut. The strands of red hair fall over, obscuring your vision partly but you press on, taking in her taste each and every second. Your dick is pressed flat against her tummy in this position and it's getting you even more riled up. You can take care of it later. 

With your unoccupied hand, you squeeze her soft cheeks, which fold like rubber under your touch. The pace of your finger that keeps fucking her asshole remains unwavering. In fact, its pounding her now the same way your cock would. At the same time, you are tongue fucking her. Both of her holes are stuffed and there's nothing she can do about it except produces more degraded sounds. 

Yeji's legs start to shake, inevitably nearing her peak whether she likes it or not. Saliva drips from the corner of her lips and a strand of the remnants connect your lips as your tongue exits her mouth. You are not letting her off. You just want to hear her moan. 

"I...will kill you..." Her voice comes out husky, so it sounds more like an empty promise than a threat. 

"Just shut up and cum bitch" Your thrusts become forceful. Perhaps you are hurting her but Yeji's moaning too much to care. Unable to resist the sight of her skin, you bite down on her neck, pitching up her voice.  

Finally, Yeji breaks. In a frenzy of pain and bliss, she lets out a carnal groan which rings out through the temple. Juice gush out from her pussy when your finger thrust in one last time. Each time her body convulses, she lets out a moan, each one louder than the last. She is still trembling nonstop even after you pull out, her jeans stained with her own bodily fluid. 

"Did you just come from getting your asshole fingered?" You ask. Yeji can only pant as she props against a column not to tremble from her legs that are on the verge of giving out. 

From the corner of your eyes, you can see Kazuha, her arms folded, watching the whole thing without a single word. She seems to be on your side for now. 

"Tired already?" You ask Yeji. "It's just starting" 

The mark on your pelvis glows brighter, the red rays casting a translucent glow on Yeji. With an iron grip on her shoulders, you turn her around, allowing you the view of her round ass in tight jeans. The stain on her crotch area makes the scene even more lewd. 

"Admit it, Yeji. All this time you have been a slut. My cock is all it takes to wipe that bitchy look off your face" Your cock presses against her clothed ass. 

"I swear I will kill-" 

You pull down her jeans just enough to expose her round butt, stealing the air right out of her lungs. Your palm connects with her supple flesh in a harsh spank, leaving a handprint in red. You deliver a strike for each word that leaves her mouth. It goes like this. 

"I-" 

Spank 

"will-" 

Spank 

"kill-" 

Spank 

"you-" 

The white canvas of her skin is now streaked with scarlet stripes. And you intend to keep it that way because the way her ass jiggle with each spank is too hypnotic to get tired of. The cherry on the top is how she keeps protesting even through the stinging pain. But you are gonna change it real soon. 

With one last strike, you pull back, admiring your handiwork on her ass, which is now the same fiery shade as her hair and tops. Yeji mutters another curse through shallow breath. This bitch is still as cocky as ever. 

Pulling her hair to tilt her head, you whisper into her ear. "Still resisitng, hmm? Should we move on to your next punishment?" Yeji's eyes blaze with fury. "Bastard"  

"So, we are doing it the rough way" You hold her throat in a tight grip with your other hand, restricting any more words from coming out of her vocal cords.  

You rest your rock hard cock between her cheeks, the glow it radiates merging with her reddened buttocks. "I'm gonna fuck your brains out now. And then I wanna know if you still want me dead"  

Yeji can do nothing as you enter her moist slit with one forceful thrust that ripples her cheeks. You don't know if she's a virgin or not but the way her walls hug you tight is giving you ideas. Nevertheless, you push on, breaking through the barriers of her fold with each thrust. It doesn't take much time for you to pound her freely with how wet she already is from earlier. 

Soon, you are hammering her cunt without a care in the world, solely focused on using her as your vessel for pleasure. You will take anything her body can offer and that will be her punishment, to become nothing but your cumdump. Resentment and triumph take over your movements and each thrust leaves her even more breathless despite being choked. 

You loosen your grip on her neck just enough for her to make audible sounds. "Still hate me?" You ask as you pull back all the way and thrust into her slit with all your force. She tenses, her back arched. She answers your question with animalistic sounds only a whore would make. 

"Hmm, you still got a lot to learn" You slip your hands under her top, reaching for her mounds. Yeji's tits aren't qualified to be called huge, but they are still big enough to fill your palm as you knead them. When you twirl her rosy nipples between your index and thumb, she mewls like an animal in heat which is only natural with the way she's getting bred. 

You slow down your thrusts, moving in and out slowly to enjoy the full feeling of her slick velvety walls that trace every inch you fill her up with. Somewhere far away, another building collapsed with a sickening crunching sound. A wave of hot air grazes your skin. But they can do nothing to disturb you from claiming Yeji's cunt thoroughly.  

Her walls start to contrast around you, the sign of an oncoming climax. You thrust with inhuman speed, empowered by the mark, as Yeji had called it. Jolts of energy course through your veins at every moment and you are surprised to find that you are not even sweating, much less tired. You can breed Yeji all day if she isn't already worn out and used up. 

Yeji's eyes roll up, her tongue hanging out in the perfect replication of the ahaego faces you see so often in certain animes. Another flood of her nectar pours out, coating your shaft. You keep fucking through her orgasm, chasing your own high. Yeji's body twists and bends but you keep her in position by wrapping your arms around her waist.  

The friction over her slick walls becomes unbearable and soon you are pumping jets after jets of your fertile seeds into her womb, all the way to the hilt. If Yeji sounds animalistic before, now she's no different from an animal. Guttural sounds betray her lips as she gets filled up to the depths she never knows existed before. When your orgasm subsides, she becomes motionless, her hoarse breaths the only sign of life. 

You pull out and cum drips out of her hole which is clenching onto air as if it needs something stuffed inside. Her punishment is a success. Yeji's got destroyed by the very thing that she wanted to destroy. As you stand there, grinning with victory, the adrenaline starts to drain out of your body. Your legs become sore, and the fucking headache is starting again. The mark on your pelvis dims and fades along with the glow of your spent rod.  

"We need to leave" You are so caught up in the joy of dominating Yeji, you forget Kazuha exists. She's still at her old spot, watching you with interest and a slither of worry. You quickly pull up your shorts though there's no point being shy now. She has seen everything. 

"Leave where?" You ask. "My quest is completed right? I will just pass out and go back" 

"It's not happening this time. He wants to meet you" 

"He?" 

"Look, we don't have much time. He will explain everything to you. I promise" 

"But-" 

The temple rumbles. More debris and dust fall from above.  

"Alright. Good idea" You and Kazuha make it outside just in time before the whole temple collapses. The sound of explosions and crumbling buildings ring out all around you. The air burns your lungs with each breath. 

"Ok, hold my hand" Kazuha says and you oblige. There's no point arguing when you are in the middle of an apocalypse. As Kazuha closes her eyes, a gleaming orb surrounds both of you and you spiral down into a tunnel of light. 

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

(Have been procrastinating on this. Anyway, enjoy~)

[killerkillerkillher]

Bound to Fall in Love

Angel/Demon! 141 x reader

Tags: kidnapping, sacrifices, religious references, reader is too angry to die, reader commits murder lol, canon typical violence??, reader gets a kissy on the forehead, a tad crack-ish

Inclusivity tags: reader is referred to w he/him and they/them pronouns, no bodily description, no y/n

A/n: call my brain an apple w all the worms it's got. This was just a blurb at first, but I made room in there for me to potentially make it into... something I guess.

minors dni!

"Cole, I can't fucking focus while they're just... staring at us like that."

"Ignore it, Bess. We have to finish these candles."

You wish a bolt of lightening would come down and strike all three of you at once. Or maybe the building spontaneously combusting would be better. Anything, anything, would be better at this moment than watching your boyfriend and best friend work together to light a summoning circle after having tied you up in your sleep.

For a fraction of a second, you wonder if any gods are watching, if any of them would be willing to give you a boon and allow you one last chance to punch both of these betrayers in the face.

"Okay, okay, the book," Bess mutters, going to the pick up her ritual book from the coffee table you bought. Honestly, if they were going to try to sacrifice you somewhere, your living room is one of the most disrespectful places. Probably right under your bed room.

"I'm sorry," Cole has the gaul to look down at you with a face stricken with grief. Like you're dead already. "We didn't know what else to do. We're both in bad places and you've always been so good to us, so we figured-"

"You better hope this fucking kills me." You grunt. Cole's face melts into a glare. "Because if I'm still breathing, it's going to take more than Satan's intervention to save you from me. I swear on my mother." You jerk forward, making him jump back a step.

"Cole...?" Bess looks at you, then up at Cole with unease. Cole doesn't say anything for a second, sorting his feelings out with a leer before turning to her.

"Read the book."

He drags you into the middle of their pentagram while she sings Latin words off the old book pages. The candles flicker and waver before their flames grow twice as tall. Cole rolls you onto your back and pulls a knife from his back pocket.

"I meant it when I said I'm sorry," Cole mutters. You snarl, but don't jump at him like you want to.

"Yeah? Yeah, you're sorry? Kiss my ass!" You shout over Bess's reading. "If I'm still alive after this, I'm killing you and burying you in the fucking septic tank!" You crane your head up so you can see Bess as well. "Time to get some stuff off my chest, yeah? Bess, I fucked your older brother on the day we graduated."

Her eyes go wide, and she almost stops talking, but Cole shoots her a look that forces her to continue.

"And his friend Carl, the one you had a crush on. And Cole? I never. Fucking. Finished. Ever! You are the only person I've dated who couldn't get me off." Cole's hand's twitch around the blade.

"Are you serious?"

"Does now look like a time to- ack!" You don't get to finish because Bess finished the spell and it was time for your blood to fuel it. The blade buries in your gut, turning this way and that way at measured increments. You just lay there and twitch, breathy gasps falling from your gaping mouth, the pain only throwing fuel to the fires of your rage.

"Please, we call you here! Honor us with your presence!" Bess chants. Cole step away from you when the candles roar and your vision is filled with bright red and orange.

The ground beneath you rumbles. Whispers fill your ears, nothing you can ever imagine understanding, but something tells you they're other summoners. Or maybe little souls of those who were just where you are now, with a people sacrificing them.

It's odd, you think as blood soaks your back, your hair. You thought you'd be more scared in what could be your final moments. But there's only anguish where there should be fear. Only unfettered violent tension felt in your muscles, and a tongue hungering for iron and gore. You're jaw is wound tight enough to shatter your teeth.

If you could think straight, if you weren't about to die, you might be a little concerned. Never have you wanted to sink your fingers into someone's soft bits as much as you do now. This is normal, right? A normal amount of rage for the people taking your life.

Something in your gut tells you it's not.

In the fog of your rage, you missed the appearance of a pair of men above you. They hover, leathery plum colored wings sagging. One wears a leather strap harness across his chest, while the other favors an unbuttoned silk shirt. One of them looks at you curious as the fire dies, steam and copper colored smoke bellowing from his mouth. A thick cigar hangs on his lips.

"You came! There's... two of you?" Cole gawks, then falls to his knees beside Bess. You can't help but scoff at their sniveling forms.

"We did. There are." The one without the cigar brushes back his long mohawk to get a better look at the whimpering humans. They're nothing new to them, just another set of weak little things looking to get something without putting in the work for it.

Well, they might have had to put in the work to capture you, based on the way you still squirm and fight the rope keeping your arms together. So much blood has left you. You are going to die. Yet you spend your last moments doing what most humans find to be a waste of precious time. Being angry. It's interesting.

"What do you want?" The bearded one in the silk shirt grunts out around his cigar. Bess lifts her head just a bit to speak.

"We want to make a trade. A soul for a better life for us."

There's a moment of silence. You blink your heavy lids, growing too tired to do much else anymore. Both demons look back at you, then to the kneeling humans.

"They're not dead." They say at the same time.

Bess and Cole stiffen and finally chance a glance at you. You're bleeding, a glassy look to your eye and a smile on your face, but you're not dead.

"See, Bess?" You cough up blood only to swallow it back down, "what did I tell you? The cunt can't make me come and can't... can't even make me go."

The mohawked devil pops a wicked smile, not even hiding it from his would-be contractors.

Cole fumes. "I can finish the job. Fuck, am I going to finish the job." He stands, moving to step into the circle only to yelp, the invisible border around the summoning circle becoming visible if only to shock Cole back.

"Not so fast," the bearded one spawns a scroll in his hand. He's eyes glow a molten orange as he scans it. "Section 1, clause 3, part 19 states: executioner(s) must sacrifice one(1) human soul to contractee(s)... Let's see... Here it is: Sacrificee(s) must be dead upon arrival so that proper collection can be done. If sacrificee(s) is still soul bond upon arrival, then they are made the true contractor and all work will be conducted with them."

"In other words," the mohawked one grinned, "you should have went for the heart." He taps at his chest.

"Or the neck." The other devil offers.

"Or that vein in they're thigh."

"The sephenous, Johnny."

"Yeah, that."

"No, no!" Cole grabs at his hair as Bess looks like she's about to start crying. You want to laugh. They deserve the despair. They deserve the horror in their mistake. They were going to kill you!

"That means," the devils lean back to look at you. "You're our contractor. You get two requests at the price of one, human. I suggest one of those requests includes healing you." He flicks the ashes of his cigar on your leg. You don't even have to think of what you want most right now.

"I want you to untie me." You roll on your side. They wait for the rest. Cole and Bess look like they're going to shit themselves from the pale faced looks of terror they give you. Your eyes narrow. "And a hammer. A old fashioned iron and wood handled hammer."

Another beat of silence before the infernals bend over in laughter. The room shacks, sulfuric smoke pouring from their mouths to funk up the room. Cole tries to cox Bess to her feet while they're distracted. Their feet can't move though. It's like they're glued in placed and no amount of pulling and tugging could get them loose. Shame.

"Yer a funny one, love. I'll love having your soul for a few eternities." The one in leather floats over you, tilting his head this way and that way to get a good look at you. You settle him with a neutral look. "My name is Johnny. You sure that's what you want? I think you've only got a few minutes left in you."

"Then let's hurry this up a little, huh?"

"Ooh, you heard 'em." The cigared one snickers and snaps his claws. Two contracts appear in front of your face, both written in a language you can hardly comprehend. A pen appeared in front of your mouth. "Sign on the dotted line please."

You take the quill in your mouth, dip it in the blood beneath you.

"Rah 'ere?"

"Mhm."

You lean forward to dot the paper with your sloppy signature, but bizarrely enough, it seems like the powers that be have decided that they haven't made enough appearances. The floor trembles, and you worry about your poor infrastructure for a fraction of a second, when a set of gold doors spawn right behind you. You roll back onto your back to intake everything. You swear you're hallucinating when a pair of white winged angels step out, the clouded blue of heaven at their back.

"Hello?" You greet stupidly. You must be losing your mind, right? What the fuck is happening.

"Do not sign a thing." The bronzen angel instructs. "Human, we are here as messengers. God sees great things for you in your ascension. Please do not squander that to these demons." He shoots a sharp look at the demonic pair. The angel's counterpart wears a white cloak, obscuring all but his glowing golden eyes. You half expect him to sing "Be not afraid." despite you actively shitting bricks.

Oddly enough, their appearence seems to have some sort of healing property. Your lethargy starts to clear and the blade in your gut starts to get pushed out. Nothing hurts anymore.

"Oh, so we've got a big soul on our hands here, huh?" Johnny smirks. "Price, what's the plan?"

Price the devil throws his cigar to the ground and crushes it.

"Do what we do best. Bargain."

"Don't play with us, Price." The shrouded angel grunts. He's got a mind piercing voice that's got your head ringing, and you swear it echoes despite the room being well furnished. "We can provide them with just as much, if not more, at no cost of their soul." Those gold orbs land on you. "All we ask for is your faith."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You tug at your bonds with renewed vigor. The angels wince at the mention of their Lord, but only watch as you force yourself upright. "I could not give a rat's ass who gets what! How about this? First one to get me free and a hammer in hand gets my loyalty."

There's two resounding snaps from either side of you. The ropes disappear, a hammer is in your left and right hand. You don't think deeper on what that implies. You finally stand, dropping the hammer in your nondominant hand, and march over to the two people you thought you could trust. They kneel now, seemingly ready to beg for their souls.

"Come on, don't look scared now." You drop your hands on your hips. "What happened to you finishing the job?"

"I didn't want-"

"Say it with your chest." You poke his breast plate with the iron hammer head.

"I didn't want it to come to this!" Cole yells. The divine audience doesn't say anything about it. They watch you curiously as you bounce the hammer in hand. Your soul is visible to them. What should be a glowing ball of light is a red and white morning star, all sharp edges and pulsing like a heart. Your soul will certainly not end up with the others, that much is true.

"I just... I couldn't keep up with you! Your life style, the way you act, your job. I never left good enough. Bess expressed the same thing and we just... clicked. We would have just left, but we could have never lived without struggling, so we just..." He swallows. You can't look at him anymore, hands clenching at what he says next. "The book called for someone we cared for."

''That supposed to make me feel better?" You tilt your head. Cole winces, eyes falling on your feet. You look to Bess. "Thought you were better than this. You were going to kill me. Because what, I was happy? I loved both of you, you could have just talked to me."

"We're sorry! What more do you want?" Bess sobs. You straighten up, bouncing the hammer on your hip, acting like you next action is something to deliberate. You already know what they deserve, and a flash of sadness bubbles in your chest, but it quickly passes as a hot, searing emotion burns a hole into what little hesitation you had left.

"Reckon I want your souls after all the shit you've caused." You grin before swinging the hammer back and caving in Cole's chest.

"Fuck..." is all you can say after everything is done. Cole and Bess lay in a bloody heep, all recognizable features destroyed and crushed. You pant, hands trembling and nothing but white noise and static crunching around in your head. You just killed your best friend and boyfriend. For some reason, you've never felt so light.

Someone's whistle gets followed by a clap.

"Impressive. Done that before?" Johnny chuckles. He floats closer, hand running down your back as he moves past and pokes around the pulped organs. "Shite, did them right in. Can't tell which is which."

"I've never-" you start to answer, but hands are clapped onto your shoulders, shocking you into silence.

"Well, that was a good place to start, lad. Your swings were a bit sloppy, but we can fix that." Price squeezes at your trapezius, massaging the stiffness out of them. A throat clears, and Price sighs like he forgot there was other company.

"We aren't finished. The human is our ward now, Price." The uncloaked angel snaps his finger, pulling you from Price and making you spawn between the two angels. The bronzen angel smiles down at you with teeth so white you could damn near see your reflection.

"There you are. It's nicer to have you close. My friend here is Simon and I'm-"

"Come on, Kyle, you know he's ours!" Johnny spits, his wings flaring out. "We gave him the hammer first, so piss off."

"Uh...huh." Kyle's smile falls. "I think you're a bit mistaken. Look, after executing the human's request, I have his name here." A stone slab appears in front of your face. It's smells like sunshine and warm grass. What the fuck. "His pledge to the Lord has been set and his soul already has a place next to Their throne."

"Right, right, like we don't have documentation neither." Johnny huffs. The stone disappears as a scroll appears next to the devil. The smell of sulfur and smoke wafts over to you. "His name is right there, pretty boy. Getting yer fuckin' lookers on."

Kyle ignores the rude tone and does pull out a pair of reading glasses to go over the scroll. You stand there in the silence, a little too scared to speak up. What could you do anyway? In a blind anger, you didn't really have the mind to think any of this out. Angels and devils are fighting over you because you'd stupid ass was too blood hungry to think past murder. All that can be done is for them to figure this out amongst themselves, and for you to wait for the sentencing. Heaven, or Hell?

"...Simon." Kyle slowly pulls his glasses off. "This is legit. His soul is promised to all of us."

You glance up at Simon, the scary motherfucker. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then pinches the bridge of his nose with a hagard sigh.

"Shit."

That's not good.

Johnny laughs, Price grinning like a dog with a bone. Kyle marches over to you, patting your shoulders with an awkward smile. His demeanor reminds you of the way your mom acted when she said she was going to divorce your dad. And all you can think is "Not this again." Are you going to be spending your afterlife going between heaven and hell forever? Does God get weekends because Their day is Sunday or whatever?

"We need to go and talk this over with some superiors. We'll clean this up," Kyle snaps and the gore is gone, so is the ritual circle and candles. "And we'll get back to you in the morning." He places a feather light kiss on your forehead, and suddenly you're squeaky clean and in the softest set of pajamas you've ever worn. "Stay safe while we're gone and don't allow these two to influence you. Get some rest."

"Blah, blah, blah," Johnny mocks from the sidelines. Price tilts his head, and there's nothing but amusement behind those eyes. Yeah, this is exactly like your parents divorce.

"O-okay? I mean, I'll try." You shrug.

Simon nods. "That's all you can do." He steps back into the golden doorway and Kyle falls in stride. You make some distance, and with a final wave from a white toothed angel, the doors shut with a slam that shakes the house's foundation.

"Just you and us now, stud."

You turn with a comedic slowness to the devils. Price chuffs and floats forward. His assess you, takes you in in all your fluffy white pajama glory, and it seems he finds what he wants when he nods.

"Guess we've got to talk with top brass to see what's going on ourselves. Pity we couldn't stick around longer." The devil's eyes never meet yours, staying glued to various parts of your face. They hop from ears, to your eyebrows, down to your lips. Christ on a bike, is it getting hot in here? His blue, glowing cerulean eyes appear to flash with something.

"Shite, yer right." Johnny groans. "I hate going down there."

"Suck it up, love. You know how I feel about sharing." Price drops his interest in you like an old toy and takes Johnny close by his waist. You watch with a lead poisoned stare as their noses touch intimately, words you can't hear being exchanged. It's kinda of awkward to just stand there and watch but your brain isn't really functioning well enough to tell you to stop.

"Hey, stud." You blink, refocusing on the pair. Johnny seems to have climbed his partner, his legs on his waist and arms around his neck. Price makes busy opening a portal to hell in your livingroom with one hand, supporting Johnny under his ass with the other. "Sit pretty, yeah? 'll be back before those two arseholes, promise."

"Right... yeah." You nod. "Uh, be safe?"

"Be safe, he says." Price mutters. "Cute." Johnny waves until Price steps through the infernal hole and falls from view. The portal closes right behind him so you'd have no hopes of seeing anything but the red hue of smog and dust.

And here you are. A little dazed, a little sad, probably holding back a break down from the last hour of events. But you're alive and you're healed. There's no blood to clean, you're in comfortable pajamas. Could probably sleep right now if your brain would stop for a minute, but it doesn't look like that's in the plans.

So you look for something to do. Cole and Bess and moved around all your furniture to make the summoning circle. Guess you can start there, right?

[rifari2037]

Zutara moments in the show :

Zuko : (grabbed Katara's wrist) I'll save you from the pirates! Also Zuko : (Making a gesture like putting a betrothal necklace on Katara)

In crystal catacombs similar to the cave of two lovers with romantic back sound. Zuko : (For the very first time willingly let someone touched his scar) Katara : (Willingly to gave him a spirit oasis water she had saved for something important and touched his face with compassion)

Sokka : What's on your mind? Zuko : Your sister. She hates me and I don't know why, but I do care what she thinks of me. Also Zuko : (Waited Katara all night in front of her tent)

Zuko : (Dramatically sacrifice himself and took Azula's lightning to saved Katara) Noo!!!!! Katara : (Recklessly saved Zuko when Azula could directing lightning to her anytime)

Zuko and Katara : (Reach each other hand and looked each other just like couple used do in TV show)

Characters in the show saw Zutara :

June : What happened? Your girlfriend run out of you? Also June : I see you worked things out with your girlfriend.

Zuko Player : Wait! I thought you were the avatar's girl. Katara Player : Ha ha ha, the avatar? Why, he's like a little brother to me. I certainly don't think him in romantic way. Beside, how can he ever find out about this...

Zuko Arc :

Trying to earn his honor and love from his father, also never showed he wanted to seek a perfect sister.

Antis : That's definitely siblings coded. Katara was sister Zuko always wanted.

Me in the corner : Okay, I will imagine it was Azula in those scenes no matter how cringe it would be as long as you are happy 😭😭

[aihaloos]

Tempted to write a replaced au twst fic where Yuu (or alternatively, I'll use my Yuu, Riyuu, who is basically who I'm writing this for) used to be the cutest girl around, the cheery one who's always around everyone, the one you can't seem to dislike even if your crush falls for her because she earnestly says sorry (even though it's not her fault) and will always help you out if you need her back in her old school. But one day, a new girl comes around and her whole reputation got destroyed. She helps the new girl adjust, tells her all the rumours and introduces her to all the popular kids. But the girl ends up backstabbing her, telling the popular girls rumours about how she intentionally plays up the act to steal their crushes to her, and lies to the boys, telling them she's just playing with their hearts and that she's a horrible person.

Yuu ends up alone and excluded, being seen as "annoying" and only having a few close friends who doesn't really interact with her in public in fear of their reputation being ruined. She ends up miserable at school, and wishes to not go anymore. But one day comes a saving grace, she gets whisked by a mysterious black carriage into Twisted Wonderland, or more specifically, Night Raven College. She doesn't mind working if it meant she doesn't have to deal with her old school, there was still 1 and a half years left of school and she doesn't want to deal with all ghe group projects to be assigned that will inevitably end with everyone not wanting to team up with her. Plus, as annoying Grim is, he's like the animal friend all of the anime and storybook protagonists she knows has, and she doesn't mind him too much.

Some things did change after she and Grim got officially enrolled, but she had no problem adapting to the social expectations of the world, part time jobs with Sam -- and occasionally the canteen -- paid enough to get her tools for cooking basic but delicious food, and new friends without the weight of her past helped her get settled comfortably.

The existence of Overblots stunned her for a bit, but a peek into Riddle and Leona's memories helped her understand the concept, even if just a little. However, things began to change eerily simlarly to her old school when a new girl comes, also in a similar position to her, getting transported to a new, unfamilliar world, and seemingly hailing from a similar world to the Earth she knows. She warmly welcomes her, eager to finally befriend another girl, but it seems that the girl does not share the same enthusiasm.

The girl only barely responds to Yuu's attempts at forming a friendship, and always seems to talk her in a condescending way, and often dismisses her, and especially so whenever there are any boys around.

Yuu will not deny any statements claiming she's an attention seeker or that she plays up her sweet innocent girl act, but she knows to never, ever sacrifice a bystander for it. But if someone insists on war with her... well that's another, different story. She's learnt her lesson of being overly optimistic, and she will not make the same mistake twice. She will not let her make her life a living hell more than it already is with Crowley's irresponsibleness.

Aaand thus begins the story. Or well, however you wanna continue it. I'm honestly in favour of most Housewardens (Kalim, Vil, and Idia in particular. I'll put my reasoning in a few paragraphs down) Adeuce, Tweels, and Ortho for team Yuu. Why?

Well, first of all, Adeuce. This is mostly because the duo is like. with Yuu since Day 1, as much of a bitch as Ace is, I think those two are the most likely to trust and know Yuu well enough to not believe the lies R (< Replacer) tells. Especially Deuce, he doesn't want to betray a friend he knew for quite a while, that would not be very honor student-like of him!! And she helped him out in a lot of situations too! He doesn't want to hurt you after all the trouble you go through to help him, and also knowing how horrible your living conditions are. Ace would most likely give in to peer pressure if the student body is overwhelmingly in favour of R, but as of now, he maybe enjoys your company just a bit more than R. Just a bit, promise.

Tweels I feel like is self-explanatory. Those two are perceptive as fuck istg it scares me. Jade especially. I feel like the two would just toy with R for a bit despite her facade and lies before dropping her after she bothers them for attention and favours one too many times.

(Ortho ties in with Idia so I'll explain him in Idia's paragraph)

Kalim is actually very emotionally intelligent. He can come off annoying and stupid, but from all the scenes I see of him, he's actually really good at dealing with people. Have you seen how he deals with the Scarabia residents after Jamil's OB??? The way he phrases his sentences?? He didn't force or even plead with them to forgive Jamil, he simply asks them to wait before making permanent judgements, and I think he's gonna be uncomfy with how condescendingly R talks to Yuu, and even if he's used to people going after him for money, I feel like R mostly eyeing him for money and how she "secretly" sighs in annoyance everytime she goes out of the party for a "bathroom break" will only solidify his dislike/discomfort, even if he doesn't show it.

Vil is also kind of self-explanatory if you read into his character and not just the shell the official English localization makes for him. (I could rant for hours about how the official tl portrays his character istg. He's hardworking and he actually didn't attempt to poison Neige out of pure jealousy, he did it because he felt like all his efforts to be beautiful will never be able to surpass Neige, who, in his eyes, always seemed to be innocent and naturally beautiful. He feels like the villain in Neige's story. He feels like he is reduced to what he often plays as, a snobbish, overconfident villain obsessed with overthrowing the hero. And because of it, it became a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy, pushing him to, in a fit of despair, be that same villain everyone sees him as.) I really don't think he will take well to R's condescension to Yuu, who genuinely wants to befriend R. (I actually have a whole thing in my head where Yuu and Vil occasionally have sleepovers where they do skincare together after the whole VDC thing happened. I feel like this is also a "vent sesh" of sorts for the both of them, just to air out their grievances without much seriousness, and I think Yuu would admit to wanting a fellow girl in the school that she could befriend, since no matter what, being the only girl can be exhausting.) Ik Vil's not a girl but he is such a girls' girl istg.

Idia... this mostly ties into Ortho and The STYX Incident, but like,, I think we can all agree on this one,, Idia is smart and capital V Very pessimistic. Would you rather trust the girl you've known for a while, who saw your memories, who helped you in awkward social situations when she can and is besties with your brother or some random new girl who trash talks said girl behind her back? The former, right? Plus, even if Yuu did only hang out with him and his brother because she likes to secretly laugh at him behind his back, there's mo guarantee R wouldn't do the same, given his experience. And he would rather have someone who actively helps him and his brother out than someone who wouldn't.

I didn't put Malleus in because of how canon him actually treats Yuu. I feel like the fandom kind of put on rose-tinted glasses on with his character, and kind of ignored some things like, idk... him just leaving them to fend for themselves homeless during Octavinelle... maybe he thought Crowley would offer them a place to stay but like... I'm still bothered by how didn't atleast offer a spare room in Diasomnia. He's a housewarden goddamnit. He's not as distant or scary as the rumours say but like. still rubbed me the wrong way.

Anyways I don't think my attention span will let me write it to completion so if anyone likes this and wants to write it feel free. Pls tag me if you do tho. I would love to read it :3

[shinidamachu]

the importance of "I'll protect you with my life"

For @inukag-week's sacrifice prompt, I thought I'd expand on a topic I have only mentioned before: the "I'll protect you with my life" line and why it matters even more than we give it credit for.

The thing about Inuyasha's character is that he was build — both physically and psychologically — to survive.

Physically, the fact that his own blood can be weaponized into a powerful attack backs up that assumption.

And so does the fact that one of his defining traits is having a defense mechanism that kicks in whenever he's on the verge of certain death with the sole purpose of keeping him alive.

Psychologically, his tough childhood shaped his survival instincts into a reliable and sharpened sense. And this next part is more of a conjecture than anything else, but I believe Izayoi's death plays a huge role here.

It can be assumed that she gave up a lot in order to live her love story and her life choices ultimately resulted in an early death. Inuyasha, being the child born from that love, has no better way of honoring her memory than living. First, for her. Then, to spite those who were against his very existence.

And this — conscious or not — need to live, is deeply intertwined with his desire to belong. Fitting in is the safest way to survive and, at first, he tried to achieve that by becoming a powerful demon.

Then, he went the opposite direction and agreed to turn into human, which only cements that his true wish wasn't to simply become one or the other at all, but to be accepted, so he could live.

That's why he doesn't take threats to his life laying down, especially when unearned. It may not look like, given his reckless way of dealing with things, but in a crooked way, Inuyasha actually values his life.

So much, in fact, that putting other people's lives above his own was a foreign concept that he struggled with at the beginning and had to learn in order to wield Tessaiga.

When Kagome tells Inuyasha she will help him with the sword under the condition he promises to protect her, she obviously never meant that said protection should cost of his life.

She wouldn't dream of it because she knows she's not entitled to it. He doesn't owe her anything. Although, one could make a point that he kind of does.

Kagome is literally the reason he is alive. Through their journey, is a recurring theme that her voice would bring him back from death's grasp every time. She's constantly saving his life. In more ways than one.

And despite Inuyasha's immediate reaction to her request being to mock her and making it clear that he never said he would protect her forever, he was the one to willingly and unpromtly add the "with my life" bit.

Even though protecting Kagome with his life was precisely what he had been doing the entire time — in spite of spending a good chunk of the series thinking his life wasn't his to give away —, to say it out loud makes for an amazing paralel and it shows how much they've grown, both as characters and as a couple.

But more than that: it shows a whole new level of devotion. For the first time ever, Inuyasha is chosing to promise his life to someone for no other reason than the fact that he loves her.

And despite talking about a lifelong commitment, I can't remember a single stance of the story where Inuyasha had acted more free.

No wonder the scene can be interpreted as a proposal.

[zarnzarn]

About the Reverse Odyssey AU (love it btw), do you think any of the Ithacans start praying to Hephastus? Just in case they can't get Odysseus back to human form, at least they can ask the God of inventing how to build a new palace that's half underwater.

oh god I have to continue that.... i have 3000 wips that ive gotten inspo for all at once are descending on me guys plus I am actively getting a master's degree bear w me for a few days

also OMG fuck yes!!! Ithaka is much more involved in this than in canon since a. they r not down 600 people who are immensely loyal to odysseus b. their king made a direct sacrifice FOR THEM literally no one else would have done this no other king would ever let himself be cursed to save his kingdom c. it's been 10 years and they all find it unjust because they'd all seen him weep as he left and know he and Penelope missed each other like crazy.

(plus he was very young when he took the throne! imagine a 13 year old telling u what to do and then being right. the people of Ithaka must have been very fond of him and most would have seen him as son-adjacent)

so one person has this idea one day, and they take it to the architects, who take it to the blacksmiths, who take it to the ruler of Ithaka. She pursues her lips as she looks at it, teeth grinding at the assumption that they would succeed but not overcome the curse, but allows them to do it.

So they start.

It is harder than their initial ideas demanded. First there is the matter of structures that do not stay down long enough to stick together, then there is the matter of how to secure them. Their dreams of beautiful underwater sculptures fall through as they struggle to conjure up even a basic shelter, even in the summer calm of the waters.

So, desperate and frustrated, they pray to Hephastus.

Ithaka is famous for its dedication to the goddess Athena, most of its temples under the king's ten-year rule being lovingly dedicated to the wisdom goddess. A separate group of smaller temples honors the other gods in the main town; but the main palace and most houses are painted blue and owl feathers and trinkets and sculptures are sold in the main market- the most beautiful of artistry is reserved for Pallas Athene alone.

But the blacksmiths and architects work together to build a small shrine worthy of the inventor god; with hidden catches and rotating idols and the best of their tools and ideas burnt at the fire kept burning at the base of it.

And after a few weeks- Hephaestus blesses them.

(He cannot make up for what he tried to do to Athena in his drunkenness and on Posiedon's inescapable goading. He was young and stupid and hurt and proud and drugged- he thinks she knows this, and has long since let it pass enough to stand beside him without a second thought; but will never be able to get over his shame- so the least he can do is this.)

But Ithaka's artists wake up with the same idea in mind and rush to the shrine in the early hours of the morning to give their thanks. Then they start building- floating large stones down at the far end to mark the range, until they have raised the wall enough to drain out the waters for them to work inside. They work fast, laying down the walls within days, until it joins to where the courtyard of the main palace creeps down the side of the cliff. From the palace itself, a tunnel is dug in the main room, wrapping around the mountain through the softer rock deposits, then travelling down to the sea.

They have the blueprints Odysseus himself had commissioned for his palace, and try to add in the carvings and structures accordingly. They dare not risk more than the smallest of owls carved into the stone entrance, wary of Posiedon's wrath at his rival. They work hard, encouraged by the people, helped by the Trojan heroes themselves- and strangely, their hands never feel tired and the ideas never stop coming.

The first test comes at the start of the monsoons.

The storms roll in angry and strong, battering against the island of Ithaka as furiously as always. When it is done, the architects are dismayed to find their hard-made palace flooded and destroyed, stone displaced or missing, with one collapse of the outside barrier causing three more within.

Dejected, they burn their tools at the temple forge once more, and then go to bed.

That next morning, the youngest of them wakes up with the thought- what if we used metal to hold them together?

The royal family gives them funding once more, and they commission for marble pillars to be sent from the mainland in exchange for their raw materials; these they sink to the bottom and drain the water once more. These pillars are erected and melted into the shifting sand with hot liquid metal, until they fuse into the rock. The roofed ceiling is replaced with live kelp and seaweed, attached to the top of the pillars and bound together. The walls are rebuilt quicker- with more labour coming in when they look closer to success than before, men with guilty eyes and stubborn determination ready to do the back-breaking, risky work.

The whole island holds its breath this time, as the monsoon rolls in and the ships return. The storms roll in and-

The wall has fallen completely, leaving the surroundings unsuitable for them to put it back up, letting the water back in.

But the building stands.

The celebration lasts all day and night, with all the workers being given a place of honor at the palace table itself for dinner. Even the royal family themselves are happy, for all the disappointment of another year of failure, and are grateful in a way that satisfies them more than the money ever could.

Yet there is still the second test- the tunnel to connect to the palace.

The main digging is complete; but as they reach the end they realize they do not know how they will open it to the sea without losing men to the outburst of the sea pouring back in. The Queen twists her lips when they go to her with the problem, thinking.

"This is such a bad idea," One of the men whispers.

"Shh," Eurylochus says, striking another spear into the final barrier. Two men come forward with hammers and push it in further, and they wait until the call comes in from the surface far above from the diver outside that the spear has gone through. "Don't tempt fate."

"You are such a nice, sane man, Eurylochus," One of the men moans despairingly, and he smiles, small. "Why are our royals all mad?"

He laughs, remembering a similar conversation from many years ago. He slips the rope around the loop at the end of the spear, and feels the nostalgia twist into sorrow once more, missing his captain, his general, his brother, his king, his friend. If only he had never kept that cursed bag. If only he had the courage to step forward first, not frozen in fear and shouldered the cost instead like a soldier should for their king, for Odysseus. Had not made mistake after mistake further, ordering Odysseus out of their reach in his panic to get him to the water, not being prepared with a net to catch him both times they'd seen him after.

He kept one on his belt now, at all times.

But until the skies and seas cleared, there was nothing to do except make sure Ody had a home to return to; that he could reach.

"Let's go," Eurylochus exhales, and they all grab the ropes attached to the dozens of spears and make their way back up the winding tunnel as slowly as they can, careful not to step on even one rope or pull too hard, and risk spelling doom for them all. Hearts pounding as they walk in the eerily silent tunnel, the dark taunting them, urging them to run. But they hold their nerve and come out at the pool created inside the main court.

Eurylochus climbs out last from the pool, and smiles up at Ctimene. She looks beautiful in the Ithakan jewels once more, holding herself with more grace and confidence than much richer princesses ever had, anklets tinkling.

She nods and then turns to the rest. "PULL!"

As one, the ropes spring up tight, straining until the spears come loose and men go falling to the floor with shouts. For a second nothing happens.

Then they hear the roaring.

He knows it's water, Eurylochus knows it has to be water- but it still sounds like a hoard of monsters, the shouting of a battlefield, the cyclops when he stole the lives of their friends in his fury. He can't help grabbing his wife and pulling her back, shouting for a retreat as the water rushes through the tunnel and bursts out in a terrible din into the pool, filling it to the top and then overspilling off the sides immediately.

For a heart-stopping moment, Eurylochus watches the water catch onto the feet of the people around, rising and rising, and he remembers Poseidon's cruel smile as he crippled and cursed Eurylochus' brother and thinks it's going to drown us all-

And then the tide recedes, and the water crawls back with it.

The plan worked. The palace of Ithaka now creeps down into the sea, enticing their wayward king to find his way back home, swim back to them and be happy, even if they never solved his curse.

All they have to do now is wait.

[helenofsparta2]

Can we talk about how interesting Percy’s dynamics with the Olympians actually is? Like, both on an individual and on a general level?

He and Ares have a rivalry. A genuine rivalry, based on mutual dislike. Frank described them in Son of Neptune as “two old war buddies talking trash” and Phobos described Percy in “Stolen Chariot” as a “sworn enemy” of Ares. That’s actually insane if you think about it. Those are the immortal god of war, and a sixteen-year-old teenager. Ares would have been fine with Percy becoming a god, because he looked forward to just fight with him or beat him up for eternity.

Percy is the only known male demigod Artemis respects, who won the friendship of not one but two of her lieutenants.

He is the demigod, who challenged Dionysus views on heroes as a whole, and that, as a son of Poseidon, half-brother to Theseus, the hero who betrayed and left Dionysus wife. The hero, who ignited Dionysus hatred of half-bloods in the first place. Still, Dionysus placed his trust in Percy to save both Olympus and Pollux in the Last Olympian.

He and Nico are the only two demigods to ever canonically acknowledge Hestia. Percy even sacrificed hope to her, which was probably the biggest sacrifice and the biggest sign of respect she ever received from a demigod.

Aphrodite takes a special interest in his love life.

Hermes and him are on pretty friendly terms. So far, that Percy even refers to him as a “friend” in the Staff of Hermes. He is also the only demigod to ever completely openly criticize him on how he handled Luke’s situation and doesn’t back down from a rather intense argument. At the end of the last Olympian, Hermes gives Percy a list of his children outside of Camp half-blood and asks him to personally escort them to safety.  

Despite Hades trying to imprison him and threatening him with death, Percy is, together with Nico, the reason why Hades and his children are accepted at Camp Half-Blood.

While Hera dislikes him, she still acknowledges Percy’s importance for her plans and describes him for one as “constant as a compass needle” when it comes to his friends, and also as someone who inspires loyalty in “Son of Neptune.”

Poseidon, centuries-old god of the ocean, who probably had thousands of children in his life called Percy his favourite son in Battle of the labyrinth. After a conversation about Antaeus, who, for over three thousand years has sacrificed people and monsters in honor of Poseidon. Still, it is Percy, who is his favourite son.

He is the only modern demigod to get offered godhood but chose instead to use their favor to create a better world for all demigods and to request forgiveness for the gods who fought on Kronos’ side, which changes some of the quintessential rules of their world.

Percy is blunt and not afraid to openly challenge them on their views and actions, but because he is probably the most powerful and accomplished hero to ever live, and because he has saved them and the world on numerous occasions, they can’t just ignore him or kill him off, and even have to listen to him on some rare occasions.

None of the other demigods really have that, at least to this scale.

It’s so interesting to me, how Percy’s relationship to the Olympians, both negative and positive, echoes more the relationship they would have to another god, than to a half-blood. 

[sillypiratelife]

Respected professionals in dark situations:

Sanji: 5-stars Chef who comes from an evil royal family but was adopted by the equivalent of the best chef in the world who happens to be a cool ex-top-wanted-criminal (Wattpad novel where) / got obsessed (against his will) with the endless loyalty and honor of the swordman who cannot for the life of him find his way geographically but never gets stray given his moral compass and willl sacrifice himself for anyone in his crew, taking the burdens for himself and never complaining.

Kaya: Orphan doctor from a rich family full of tragedy that was almost manipulated into leaving her fortune to a criminal pretending to be a loyal butler so he could later kill her and all her village (Clue plotline where) / Fell in love with the town liar clown who would daily give her a reason to hope for the future and stay alive pass the grief inducing mist in her life, saving her from getting kill and giving her a dream to live for.

Vivi: Princess of a nation that infiltrated a super criminal organization to find out the leader was a member of a corruptedljustice system planning to go full on coup mode to destroy her nation and made himself with the op equivalent of a nuclear bomb (Mission Impossible type of storywhere) / became infatuated and then enamoured by the girl who asked for millions of berries in turn for their help and insisted she could survive a days long fever that would have indeed killed her just to save the princess nation, doing everything in her power to save the princess dream.

Crazy ass lowlife bitches whose entire game consists of bitting more than they could chew:

Zoro: Teases and argues with the chef just to take his place in the self-sacrificing moments until the chef can't live without thinking about him / He is one of the most famous bounty hunters alive, one of the best swordmen of the world (he'll become the best), first mate of the future pirate king.

Ussop: Tells lies and sacrifices himself for her until she is completely enamored with his loser charm and courage-inducing-crisis ability to become a great man / He is one of the best sharpshooters of the world (he'll become the best probably), a brave warrior of the sea and getting greater, a real genius inventor with the facade of a total clown, vital member of the king of pirates crew.

Nami: Decided to go first for extortion before the accustomed act of giving her life away for the girl and her dreams to the point the princess wouldn't forget her even if she wanted / she's one of those insanely skilled burglars, best cartographer in the world, currently drawing a global map, navigator of the king of pirates crew.

[pooks]

okay, about my Straw Hat!Ichiji AU, time to talk about Ichiji's bond and dynamics with the other Straw Hats

Luffy Ichiji is very loyal to his captain. He got a little fond of Luffy already at the Baratie and was impressed that Luffy tried to argue and negotiate with Zeff (something that's considered near impossible) about his debt. Luffy managed to open up Ichiji a little and got a glimpse of his true self.

When Ichiji points out that despite Gold Roger being a legend, there's very little archived records of his adventures. Ichiji's dream is to write and archive a large book of chronicles of the next Pirate King. Luffy recognizes his literary talent and offers Ichiji to become his archivist.

Through their journey together, Ichiji holds Luffy in high regards and respects him deeply. The events of WCI only solidifies his loyalty and respect for his captain, who came to Whole Cake to save him and Sanji.

Zoro Ironically, Ichiji gets along with Zoro just fine, compared to his little brother. He also thinks that Zoro looks like a marimo, but he leaves that unsaid as Sanji bickers the most with Zoro.

Ichiji finds Zoro refreshing to talk with and Zoro appreciates Ichiji's calm nature, he views Ichiji as a sane counterpart to Sanji. They respect each other as nakama. Ichiji strongly suspect something between Zoro and his little brother, but keeps this to himself as he truly wants to see them get their act together.

Both of them are responsible and protective in their own ways (Zoro, for nakama and ichiji, for his brother). But there is some friction they don't really address. Zoro is aware that Ichiji (and Sanji)'s past is a subject Ichiji never talks about and he has strong suspicions that Ichiji being an "overbearing, protective brother" to Sanji is a sign that he's compensating for something. Ichiji, on the other hand, not only envy Zoro for his strength and dedication to the crew, but also for his strong bond with Sanji.

Ichiji always refers to Zoro as "Roronoa" (as he thinks that calling Zoro by first name is too personal). As for Zoro, he just settles nicknames such as "nerd", "brainiac" or foureyes" (Ichiji never minds while Sanji takes full offense at this).

Nami Ichiji isn't over the moon-attracted and lovestruck by Nami like Sanji, but he admits her beauty and thinks she's just as pretty as she's clever.

His opinion on Nami improves at Arlong Park arc, when he sees Nami's burden and sacrifice for her village. He's reminded of his deal with Judge in the past, enduring six months of agony and pain in exchange for Sanji's freedom (a deal that Judge never honored, similar to Nami's deal with Arlong) and he is fast to understand that Arlong never intended on keeping his word. He also knows that Nami must ask for their help before they can intervene.

While he never mentions any details or names, Ichiji tells Nami a little about the "sacrifice" he made for Sanji and tells her that asking for help when she needs it isn't something to be ashamed for and in fact, he admires her strength and dedication to save a whole village while he only aimed to save a beloved brother.

Nami both like and respect Ichiji as her equal and nakama. She admires Ichiji's skills in writing and calculating and often asks for his opinion when she's drawing her charts. Nami also have a habit to play with Ichiji's long hair (his red hair reminds her of Belle-Mere).

During their adventures...which is basically everyday, Ichiji focuses on securing some treasure and always hands it over to appease Nami to stay on her good side. Nami, who never says no to some exta Berry or treasure, always calls Ichiji her best friend.

Also to note, Ichiji is always invited to Nami and Robin's "girls' nights". Something that makes his little brother seethe everytime (lmao). Ichiji is kinda a permanent honorary guest at their girls' nights and he always returns to his crew with new hairstyles and painted nails.

Usopp Usopp was very intimidated by Ichiji at their first meeting, mostly due to Ichiji being irritated over Sanji taking over his waiter duties at the Baratie (because his little brother started to fawn over Nami) and his usual stoic personality. He changes his mind when Ichiji commits to his proper waiter duties and actually asks the guys (neglected by Sanji) what they'd like to have.

Usopp is very surprised to see Ichiji has joined them, not really aware of his role on the crew. Usopp originally took a little offense of Ichiji writing their chronicles, due to the sniper being a "master storyteller". Ichiji is fast to settle this down by telling that he's only putting their stories in ink and while Usopp is a great storyteller, he also want people to believe them and Usopp, sadly, doesn't have the best track record for credibility.

Ichiji serves as another older brother figure for Usopp, even straight up telling him that it's okay being afraid because courage is born from defying fear, not the absense from it. Usopp is also vaguely aware that Ichiji has self-worth issues that he refuses to speak about.

Chopper Ichiji was the only one who recognized Chopper as a reindeer at their first meeting. Despite this, Chopper was a little wary around Ichiji, even after he joined the Straw Hats. Ichiji respected this and decided to let Chopper befriend him when he was ready.

Chopper quickly warmed up to Ichiji, after he demonstrated how far he was willing to go for his brother and his nakama. Ichiji tells Chopper that he doesn't have to trust him if he doesn't want to, but to let him earn his trust.

Chopper knows that Ichiji is physically different, due to being genetically modified. They agreed to never leave it between then, as a patient-doctor agreement. They have in common that they technically belong to a certain race, but still different from their peers (Ichiji, for being an advanced human because of Germa and Chopper, who's a reindeer/human Devil Fruit user).

Ichiji is very fond of Chopper and treats him like a cute little brother, although a little wistfully as he remembers his younger brothers at Germa (and secretly laments their lost humanity).

Nico Robin Ichiji, like Zoro, was very suspicious of Robin when she joined. While he acknowledge that she, like Nami, is pretty, he decided to not let it cloud his judgment, in contrast to Sanji who fawned over her. Instead, he remained cold and stoic until Robin proved that she was trustworthy.

He later warmed up to Robin and they shared many common interest, such as ancient knowledge. Ichiji often consults with Robin regarding his work with the Straw Hat Chronicles and asks her to proofread his drafts before he can put it in ink.

This friendship is tested during the Enies Lobby Arc, where Ichiji is constantly reminded of himself when faced with Robin's difficulties. Ichiji sees his own self-worth issues reflect in Robin and decides to save her as well. After the events, he had formed a strong bond with Robin. They hold each other in high regard.

It's implied that Ichiji have a little crush on Robin, but he isn't sure if it's genuine love or just platonic.

Franky Ichiji didn't hold Franky in high regards when they first met, due to the meeting was a result of the Franky Family beating up Usopp and stealing their money for a new ship. He was downright furious, questioning if they had morals or even a conscience for what they did to his friend.

Ichiji remained rather cold towards Franky through the Water 7 and Enies Lobby arcs. They have a smaller confrontation post-Robin's rescue, where Ichiji lays on why he hasn't warmed up to him, like the other Straw Hats has; Ichiji is having flashbacks to Germa (he doesn't tell about Germa, but refers to it without mentioning names) where he suffered non-consentual body modifications and surgeries. Franky being a cyborg gave him mild PTSD flashbacks and he kept his distance because he was afraid that Franky would take offense.

This confrontation causes Ichiji to open up about his "power" (Sparkling Red, but it's unnamed during this time) and he doesn't know how to control it. Ichiji is afraid that it'll go out of control, due to his overwhelming feelings, and accidently hurt someone he cares about. Franky, moved by Ichiji putting his trust in him, promises to help him to figure out how to control his power.

Thereafter, Ichiji regularly meets with Franky who creates support gear that can restrict his power and let him control it. Franky is a little enamorad by Ichiji's smile.

Similar to his situation with Robin, Ichiji harbors very fond feelings towards Franky. But once again, he isn't sure if it's romantic or platonic love.

Brook At their first meeting, Brook mistook Ichiji for a woman due to his androgynous appearences (aka his pretty face and his long, red hair in a braid) and asked to see his panties. Ichiji took this seemingly well, calling Brook a joker...until he delivered a swift kick to Brook's head and calmly said that he was a man, thus no panties. Brook apologizes which Ichiji accepted.

Ichiji was mildly annoyed by Brook, but quickly found that they shared common interests as well. Ichiji enjoys an interllectual conversation and they have creative hobbies (Brook, music. Ichiji; writing). They often drink tea with Robin and are dubbed as the "Classy Trio".

Jinbei Ichiji wasn't sure what to think of Jinbei when they first met, due to the fact that the only fishmen he had met previously was Arlong and his gang. And Ichiji didn't have a too flattering image of fishmen because of their actions. He befriended Jinbei pretty fast, though and thought him as a good ally.

After the WCI events, where Jinbei officially joins the crew, Ichiji expressed his eternal gratitude for the fishman's actions and regards Jinbei as one of his closest friends.

Both of them enjoys a good conversation and Ichiji appreciates every moment of wisdom Jinbei offers.

Straw Hats in general Ichiji loves the Straw Hats as his family, even if he doesn't physically express his emotions like Sanji can. He has a lot of brothers and sisters, and he cherishes every moment with them.

He enjoys to tease them a little, especially the younger ones. Ichiji comes with a lot of witty and sarcastic remarks. He isn't afraid to speak his mind and is very honest with his nakama (with the exception of his Germa past). His stoic expressions along with reflective glasses gives the straw hats the "unreadable expression" impression from him and Ichiji uses this to his advantage, playing pranks on them...until he smiles and reveals that everything was just a "sensible deception". (aka, he trolled them XD)

The Straw Hats really loves Ichiji as much as they love Sanji. He's a valued crew member, one of their strongest fighters and a mature older brother figure for the younger ones. They all know that Ichiji has self-worth issues and dehumanizes himself quite often, but then the just double down on the love and friendship.

[greenqueenhightower]

Alicent's Catharsis, Rebirth, and Baptism in 2x07–Religious Parallels: (Long Post Warning)

"You will be hated by all people on account of my name." (Matthew 10:22) "All my life I've endeavored to serve both my house and the realm, and somehow none of it matters. We are cast aside. Or hated."

In this scene, the sight of her own blood, as Orwyle tends to her wound, brings forth Alicent's realization: all she's ever done was in service to others at the cost of herself, the size of which doesn't seem to matter. Alicent's words contain the belief that her fate was preordained. With the vision of her childhood and married life fresh in her mind, Alicent has many reasons to believe her children and herself were destined to face the hatred of the world. Christ warned his followers of the same fate. Interestingly, Alicent doesn't simply say "my family," but "my house and the realm." Her psyche is torn apart by two opposing forces, her fealty to her Hightower heritage and her role as a wife and mother to Targaryen kings. No matter how much she tried, she hasn't been able to reconcile the two, and her devotion to both has meant disloyalty to herself.

"So I call you to witness this very day that I am clean from the blood of all men." (Acts 20:26) "Nothing is clean here."

Otherwise venerated in the body of Christ, Alicent's sacrifice of the red, hot blood she spilled and the scar that would be "easily hidden" have lost all their purity. That filthy room, that gown, that place, suck all life out of her dry. Alicent sought a witness to her life, one who would acknowledge her sacrifices. A voice to say they were proud of her and all she'd done. The fact that she must once again live in the shadows and hide herself and her wounds, makes the spilled blood feel cheap and Alicent herself feel dirty, body and soul.

"So they came to a spot named Gethsemane." (Mark 14:32) "To the Kingswood, I think."

Alicent asks Ser Rickard to be her sole witness as she seeks to reclaim herself. Her desire to flee to the Kingswood, a place with religious and prophetic significance where some have sought the white stag for guidance and self-confirmation, mirrors Christ's flight to Gethsemane, a place he felt closer to his Father in prayer, in the final moments before his execution. Just like Christ did with his disciples, Alicent takes Ser Rickard along to keep watch while she finds solitude in the Kingswood.

"I saw heaven opened, and look! a white horse. And the one seated on it is called Faithful and True." (Revelation 19:11) "I have to believe, that in the end, honor and decency will prevail."

Alicent challenges the Arthurian stereotypes of chivalry by becoming her own knight on a white horse. Paralleling Christ again, Alicent yearns to become Faithful and True to herself. She has spent her life devotedly faithful to her father's commandments, the principles of the Seven, and the expectations of a Queen. For years she has held fast to the belief that this devotion to honor and decency would be her saving grace. Now, all she had faith in crumbles. Seated on a white horse, grabbing her life by the reins, Alicent must become her own Savior.

"I still have many more things to say to you, but you are not able to bear them now." (John 16:12) "I'm not yet certain I do."

Alicent's mission forms as her first day of withdrawal into the serene landscape around her comes to an end. Her composure and calm demeanor denote that she has found some peace and tranquility in the time she spent with herself and her thoughts. Her mind is made up for something momentous, which she does not yet reveal to Ser Rickard. She knows that he wouldn't understand if she were to tell him. Christ knew he would be equally berated and misunderstood. And neither would her children now be able to bear all her words and actions, so she decides to stay away.

"In grassy pastures he makes me lie down; he leads me to well-watered resting places." (Psalm 23:2) "In all of King's Landing is there no one to take my side?"

On her second day of rediscovery, completely stripped away from delusions, Alicent appreciates the openness of the field before her. Having escaped the prisons of King's Landing and the Red Keep, Alicent embraces her loneliness. As a mysterious, almost divine force pulls her closer to the water, Alicent roams the woods alone again. But for perhaps the first time, Alicent is surrounded solely by trees and flowers. There are no walls, no corsets, no retinue, no handmaidens, no definitions, no boundaries, and no expectations because she wished it. There's just herself, stripped of anything confining, the vast expanse of water before her, and the limitless sky above. She looks so much like the sigil of her mother's house: House Florent. With her red hair and blue dress against the green forest, Alicent is a little Florent fox in the woods. Is she calling her mother's spirit to take her side?

"Purify me from my sin with hyssop, so that I will be clean; wash me so that I will be whiter than snow." (Psalm 51:7) "The gods punish us. They punish me."

Alicent's journey to the water indicates her reclaiming of freedom and agency. Her catharsis is to come, neither by receiving absolution from another person, nor by having faith in the Seven, but by her own hands. She alone can cleanse and baptize herself, and thus bound to a new duty to herself, offer herself a new start.

"They were baptized by [John] in the Jordan River, openly confessing their sins." (Mark 1:5) "I have sinned."

Alicent removes the last articles of definition before she immerses herself in the water. She now stands moments away from her new disillusioned self, rethinking her purpose in life and her own self worth. Like Christ, Alicent wears white. She is leaving everything and everyone behind to be reborn as her own Savior and to wash away memories and mistakes of her past. She is ready to start building a new tower of faith in herself, to replace the one she violently lost.

"The holy spirit in bodily form like a dove came down upon him, and a voice came out of heaven: 'You are my Son, the beloved; I have approved you." (Luke 3:22) "You must do this."

As Alicent surrenders to a new birth, her desire for freedom and escape becomes clearer with the bird's appearance. Finally free, Alicent enjoys simple moments such as this immersion in the lake she gets to experience alone, for the first time. Once again embodying Christ, Alicent stares at the bird flying overhead in awe, as if it were the holy spirit coming down from the heavens to declare its approval. The bird becomes the witness to her new birth and a sign of confirmation and blessing on the course she has chosen to tread. Alicent has made up her mind about the next necessary step. Even if Viserys' words have proved to be fickle, it is indeed she who "must do this" and try to save her family and the realm any way she knows. Will she sacrifice herself (or save herself) for the sake of both?

"Present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, a sacred service with your power of reason." (Romans 12:1) "A true queen counts the cost to her people."

Alicent's power of reason compels her to not give up on her life but to readjust it to a much more secure course. As she yearns for freedom, Alicent mimics the bird's movements. How much she would like to fly away from everything, far from all this mess! And yet, her new resolve grounds her in a powerful way. By the end of her baptism ritual, Alicent has moved from the green backdrop to the lake's blue. Just as Christ regained memories of his pre-human existence, Alicent has claimed some lost fragments of her childhood and herself. This experience of retrospection, reclaiming of purpose, and newfound self-worth become a signpost for a new Alicent: the one who values herself more and adds the cost to herself in the tally.

[ahllohehn]

Hello! This is an opportunity for you to yap about ANYTHING you wanted to. That's it, use it however you'd like :D

Post about my Scarian Fashionista AU that I absolutely doubt I'll finish so have my draft notes of my plans before I completely gave up;

“Too common.”

“The design is tacky.”

“Now it’s too simple.”

“Grian, dear, are you even trying at this point?”

“Enough with this. If all your designs are just gonna look like this, I’d rather you already leave and reflect on this.”

Grian flinched as he watched the office door slam on his face, leaving him to glare at nothing but polished wood as he trembled frustratingly in place. 

When he had signed up for a course on Fashion Design, he thought he had been overqualified for the course. After all, he already had plenty of experience in regards to fashion, so he thought that all he needed was to push through and just let his passions and ideas roam free then he’d get his degree easy peasy.

Too bad that reality is often disappointing, and often likes to humble him offensively.

Grian grit his teeth and was about to kick down his professor’s door until a voice piped up and dragged him away before he could create some long time regrets, “Woah there, buddy. Getting a lil’ too heated there, yeah?”

Pearl giggled as she held the shorter man down by his shoulders, disallowing him any opportunities of kicking down the door and potentially murdering their professor.

The future murderer squirmed under her hold for a while before begrudgingly setting his foot down, “I wouldn’t be like this if they weren’t so– so! Urgh!”

The rest of his words were lost as his emotions took over any sort of coherent thought, only having enough awareness to express his frustrations by groaning and whining. He waved his clenched fists and stomped his feet on the carpeted floor like a child throwing a tantrum.

With how he was acting, any student could mistake him for some short freshman first realizing the cruelty of college life. Fortunately, Pearl wasn’t any student and saved him the embarrassment of having to be compared to younger students.

“I know, I know. But if you were gonna get kicked out from university, I’d rather you get kicked out with an honorable reason,” she patted Grian’s back comfortingly, “And murdering a professor because you had a disagreement on some concept designs is not an honorable reason. It would be embarrassing, actually.”

Grian puffed up his cheeks and took a deep breath, steeling himself as he quickly turned on his heel to start brisk walking to a random direction, “Walk,” he announced vaguely, but Pearl was quick to understand and she followed after the other at a slower pace.

Clearly, this wasn’t their first time being in this kind of situation. In a world where standards heighten with every year, every decade, and every fad and trends, designers like them need to get ready for all kinds of heavy rejection, criticism, and judgment. Same can be said for any person who studied and worked under anything visual.

Hopes and dreams were meant to stay as hopes and dreams.

If you even attempt to express those to the world without having the bravery to back it up, it would inevitably face destruction in the hands of the high expectations of the public, and soon enough you’d be left with nothing but an empty shell that has sacrificed it all because they believe in passion over standards.

To battle the frustrations and heavy emotions that came as a result from these sacrifices, Grian and Pearl have learned to make a habit of doing simple things like strolls and walks. Because if you physically tire yourself out, then you wouldn’t have the energy to even impulsively think of rebelling against the norms of society. 

And also because walks are nice. The campus gave them a lot of space to explore, so why not use it, right?

The pair found themselves strolling the halls of the building with Grian leading and Pearl calmly following behind. She didn’t make any attempts to catch up and walk beside the man because one cannot simply match an angry Grian’s pace. The shorter man had so much adrenaline from months upon months of suppressed anger that it was simply impossible to even walk with him properly without getting sore legs the next hour. 

Pearl could only thank whatever god is above for making Grian as loud as he is, “Too common, too tacky– Her face looks too common and her personality is too tacky!” now starts Grian’s monthly ranting session.

“When I try to follow the current trends, she says the design is too overused and plain. But when I try to actually make something unique, she thinks it’s too ambitious and gaudy! It’s like she’s never happy!”

The brunette behind him snorted, “Maybe she wants an equilibrium? Something that’s just right?” she offered, to which her friend rolled his eyes.

“Something just right? Who is she? Freakin’ Goldilocks?!” Grian screeched and ruffled his own hair in distress, slowing down a few steps as he kicked his feet in anger.

Although this kind of reaction would probably gain him some few worried looks, Pearl herself was already too used to this scene and she simply giggled in response, “Maybe she is, you never know.”

Grian sighed out a groan and crossed his arms. His energy slowly simmered down as he eventually slowed down enough to be walking beside Pearl, “How are you so calm about this? I would’ve thought you’d be angry walking with me, but instead you’re just…. Well, walking.”

Pearl grinned wide and puffed up her chest proudly, “Well, contrary to my experiences for the past few terms, things are actually looking up for me!” Grian raised an eyebrow at this, squinting his eyes at the other with either a suspicious look or a look of envy. Probably both.

He tried to act nonchalant about it, like he’s totally not yearning to say the same thing for himself, “All because you’ve got some inspiration, huh?” His question had a teasing edge, making Pearl bashfully laugh.

“Some is undermining it. Gem has been a great source of inspiration. It’s like I’m being spoon fed a new idea everyday,” Pearl boasted enthusiastically that even Grian couldn’t help but flash a smile, “Huh, good for you then. It’s nice that you’ve atleast rekindled any sort of happiness that Professor Goldilocks may have burnt out,” he snorted.

Silence settled for a while with Pearl glancing at Grian like she was trying to figure out what to say to him. She only finally spoke up what was brewing on her mind when he acknowledged her gaze with a tilt of his head.

“Why not get a muse of your own?”

Grian’s face scrunched up at that question, “Of my own?”

“Yeah.”

Grian gave it a thought and he shook his head, “With how I am? I’m better off continuing to do things alone,” he grumbled. 

He was already used to coming up with inspirations for himself on the spot. Because, unlike now, he was actually pretty passion-driven before, fueled with nothing but the dreams he’s held onto since he was young. It’s only unfortunate that he ran out of it because his professor was discouraging and hated everything he came up with, so he started living on thinking that everything he’s doing is inadequate, that he needs to improve his thinking before he could improve himself. It was a ‘he’ problem that he is more than capable of handling alone.

At least, that’s what he’s been persuading himself to think. But the more he thought about the idea of having a muse, the more appealing it sounded. 

Or maybe that was his loneliness speaking.

While Grian was having inner conflicts within himself, Pearl continued to spit out encouraging words herself, “I mean, it’s not like it won’t be worth it,” she nudged the shorter man with an elbow to gain his attention back to her, “We’d need to gather models for our finals anyway.”

The blonde blinked in confusion, “Finals?”

Pearl gave him a weird look, “Our finals, Grian. The one where we’d have to get models to personally show off our designs by the end of the term.”

His expression froze along with his thought process as his brain began to file through any memory regarding his final project.

When he did finally register everything, Grian stopped in his steps to facepalm with both hands, letting out his nth muffled groan that same hour, “I… actually forgot,” he admitted with a whine before releasing his face and staring at Pearl in panic.

The end of the term fashion show. It sounded so ridiculous that it completely slipped Grian’s mind that it would actually be a contributing factor to his grades.

“Where am I even gonna get a muse, much less a model?!” He squeaked out, now resorting to pacing around the empty hallway in circles with his hands tugging on his own locks in distress.

Pearl stood to the side and  couldn't even get a word in before Grian continued on with his monologue of panic, “I can’t just– Kneel and reach out for the sky and pray some god would hear my prayers!” He sounded manic.

The blonde stopped to stand at the ceiling to floor windows that decorated one side of the hallway, gesturing towards the sky through the said window in front of him, “Like, they can’t just drop down a beautiful being out of nowhere!”

As soon as he said that, his dark eyes looked down from the sky and unconsciously magnetized towards a figure outside on campus grounds, seemingly on the lookout for something.

Not that Grian was curious to know anything about what said figure was trying to do. All he knew at that moment was that they.... (I didn't finish this. Just imagine Scar just appeared lol)

[deviantly-inspired]

The end of Arcane where Jayce and Viktor are beings of light except for their hands and faces, the parts of themselves and eachother they're most proud of, most fond of, draw identity with. Two scientists who've done nothing but work with their hands all their lives using their last moments to draw eachother close. holding onto one another with hands that create and bring what is arguably most human, the most individual part of the human identity of "self" together not as one hive mind but as Two separate individuals choosing to reach out, one last time, and picking eachother.

The end of arcane where jynx honors her her second father and her third father and her sister as best as she knows how because she knows the weight of Vander's death is never going to set her free, she can never outrun the guilt of it and so she embraces the love of it to save what she has left letting that love drag her to death to save what's left. Because walking away and death are the same thing in Jynx's mind and the two have always been linked since the day Vi left her. Because the guilt she and Vi held over Vander's death destroyed the city and killed Isha and it was going to kill Vi too unless Jynx dragged the guilt down with her

The end of Arcane where Ekko has had a taste of what could have been and chose to leave it all behind to save what was and is the only person in the entire world to know what Powder looks like when she's in love. To know a world where forgiveness is enough, and an intended letter was found by another pair of Star-crossed lovers/friends/family. To know a softer world and all it's temptations and ask only for a first-second-first kiss. To love a girl and a memory and a city and a people enough to tear himself across time and space for it.

End of Arcane where Cait and Mel both keep three lessons in their heart, and a secret fourth one too. To carry the sacrifice of love for the rest of their lives as Ambessa taught them to: with their heads held high

End of Arcane where Vi and Cait both stand atop bodies worth of love and still choose eachother still love eachother where Cait tries to find what's left of Jynx and Vi hums a lullaby and stays. Where it's choosing to reach out over and over and over again.

End of Arcane where love beats ambition. Where love saves the day. Where love is the underpinning layer of the universe so fundamental that it doesn't matter which one you're in because it's there. The love was there. The love was always there. And it wasn't just enough: it's the whole reason any of it matters in the first place

[consistencynevermether]

The Garden of Heroes- Astarion X Reader

content- gn! tav x Astarion. angst (but kinda more bittersweet), with a good ending. sfw. cannon typical violence but nothing extreme. soooo many character deaths. Astarion and tav forever endgame im sorry to this man he will not be moving on

Summary: Astarion learns how to live on after you and the others are gone.

word count- 2.4k

Out of your party, Karlach was the first to die. It wasn’t unexpected that she would go first. She was always headstrong, rushing into battle and putting the safety of others before herself. She died a hero's death, and so she was honored as such. After all, your group had saved Baldur's gate, and not just from the mindflayers. Even after, your party continued to do great deeds of heroism across the sword coast. Sometimes all together as a group, and sometimes as individuals. Regardless, Karlach was a hero, and so when they buried her, they erected a statue in a beautiful plot of land outside of Baldur's gate, which they titled “The Garden of heroes”. A beautiful name but also a melancholy one. A reminder that her statue would not be the last one to be built in this grove. Losing Karlach, it was painful for everyone, Astarion included.

 But what really stuck with him was that garden's name. The promise it brought of more of his friends becoming just old statutes and legends. And of you, someone far more precious than a friend, becoming the same. 

Wyll was the second to go. Taken from you all far too soon, just like Karlach. And just like her, he died as he lived, honorably. Despite everything in life that tried to extinguish his spirit, nothing could. He was happy and kind and loyal till the end of his days. When his statue was put up next to Karlach’s, everyone grieved. But over time when your hearts all healed a little, Wyll’s proud, tall, beautiful statue made Karlachs look less lonely, like she had a friend now, and there was a certain comfort in that. But there would be no comfort for Astarion when the next statue would be built.

Because the next one was you. 

Tav. The great hero of the sword coast. Felled in battle. Your sacrifice had saved the world once again but left Astarion all alone. 

You died far before your time. How far? Were you an elf who still had hundreds of years ahead of them? Were you a half-orc who only had maybe 20 or 30 left? Regardless, it was too soon. Astarion had thought he’d have more time. More time to come to terms with you leaving him. That he would be allowed to let you go, not have you ripped from his embrace by this cruel twist of fate. 

And just like that, you were the 3rd statue in the Garden of Heroes. To everyone else that’s just how it was, another hero lost and life went on. But not for Astarion. The world seemed to stop for him. 

He knew it would happen one day. He probably told himself he would go on living even without you, that he wouldn’t waste his life mourning someone when he could still live. After all, he deserved that, he had been alive so long and yet had barely begun to truly live. Yet the gaping hole that you left behind in his heart could never be filled. 

Still, because of his experience with Cazador, he refused to let himself waste his freedom. Despite you being gone he didn’t want to stop living.

But he couldn’t bring himself to love again. Nobody could compare. No one’s laugh could make his heart flutter like yours, nobody’s kisses could be quite as sweet. You who loved him at his worst and showed him the light. You who reached out your hand to him, but ultimately let him become his own savior, letting it be his choice to be good. To feel good again. It was a tragedy that he had lost that love, something that made his world so much brighter. But he cherished the memories, and that made it easier to live on.

That is until the memories began to fade. 

He doesn't know when it started. It was definitely after Gale and Lazel had joined you in the garden. Shadowheart too probably. After all, they were all only human, Giyth, and half-elf, at most the oldest of them could have been Shadowheart at 200 years or so, and Astarion couldn’t ever forget you in such a short amount of time. 

He mourned all 3 of them of course, and Shadowheart’s lack of snark towards Astarion (which over the years had become just friendly banter) was missed. But it wasn’t the same as when he lost you. 

But after decades of them being laid to rest in the Garden of Heroes, he’d started to forget little details of his former party members. But he remembered every detail of you. He heard your voice in his dreams, imagined your smile as he daydreamed, and wore a piece of your jewelry as a reminder. Even though you weren’t here anymore, he honored you.

But as the years went on, it became… twisted. Some nights Astarion would wake up in a cold sweat, muttering to himself as he tried desperately to remember what color your eyes were. Every night his dreams of you became more fuzzy with time, and every morning he clinged a little harder to the little reminders of you. In the end, he was no longer honoring you, but instead clinging to a memory. He had promised himself, promised you that he would continue to live. Yet ever since you left he had just been alive. He was spiraling.

Why what happened next transpired isn't exactly clear to Astarion. Maybe it was you from beyond the grave, maybe it was some god your party had helped before, or maybe it was just dumb luck. But by whatever force, he was sought out by a young group of adventurers looking for help. 

They were inexperienced, reckless, and worked horribly together, which is exactly why they came seeking out one of the great heroes of the sword Coast, to help them. It was easy for Astarion to forget just how legendary he and his friends were. Don't get him wrong, he thought very highly of himself, but the way these inexperienced adventurers would look at him with wonder in their eyes whenever he mentioned your name, was…odd. On the one hand, it saddened him that you were nothing more than a mere legend now, but on the other, it gave him a strange sense of happiness knowing that your memory lived on, that even the people who didn't know you were influenced by you. And having a bunch of idiots to keep alive was strangely comforting. He often wondered if you had felt the same way when you had led the motley crew of tadpole-infected weirdos all those years ago, and it gave him a connection to you that made his heart ache, but in a good way. 

It kept those nightmares at bay and kept the loneliness from consuming him. It's what he needed, that human connection, to stand up on his own two feet and keep going. It would never be the same, he knew that. 

Sometimes, sitting around the campfire, eyes closed, he could almost feel like he was back there with you. The crackle and warmth of the fire, the overlapping voices in the background, the sound of the forest. Some things never changed, and sitting there, he could almost imagine you next to him, polishing some weapon next to him in the light of the campfire, its metallic glint bathing your features in warm orange. 

And when he opened his eyes and saw that you weren't there, and hadn't been for decades now, he was ok. The pain did not consume him, the sadness did not break him, and the hurt felt good in a way because it showed how much he was loved, and how hard he loved you back in return. 

Astarion wasn’t alone anymore. And he was able to truly live again. He imagined if you could see him now, you’d be quite proud. However, occasionally at night, his thoughts would wander to more than just imagining. In Faerun, there were many ways to speak with the deceased and even bring them back. But what stopped him was your last moments. Even now what you said was crystal clear, and would never fade no matter how many years went by, it echoed in his mind constantly:

“My only regret is leaving you behind.”

As much as it hurt to be alone, Astarion knew that you were satisfied with the life you lived. And loathe he was to admit it, deep down he always knew that if he suggested some way to make you immortal to stay with him, you would decline. You burned brightly and fast, it’s who you were. You lived your life the way you wanted to, and it wasn’t his right to drag you back up with him. He knew this. But it didn’t make the thought any less tempting. 

Whenever that temptation arose, he found solace in a bit of a strange place. Or more accurately, person. Halsin. Astarion and Halsin were never terribly close, the two just had quite different personalities. Not that there was any real bad blood, just never that closeness he felt with some of the others. But as the years went by, he and Halsin became the only two people left of the original group, and that caused them to share a few bittersweet bonding moments. 

Halsin was one of the few people Astarion could reminisce with. Not only that but someone who loved so freely yet lived so long the way Halsin did made him good at dealing with loss and grieving in a healthy way, something Astarion didn’t always excel at. So he frequently went to visit the Archdruid, and Halsin was always happy to see his old friend. After a while, they even started a tradition, once every 10 years the two of them would travel to the Garden of Heroes together. Not many words were spoken during those trips, but it meant a great deal to both of them. 

All too fast it seemed, the pair had visited the grove dozens of times. And every time Astarion couldn’t help but notice Halsin had more and more gray hair with each passing visit. Elves were long-living, but not immortal. Halsin would soon be gone from this world too. 

At this point, Astarion could handle the loss. He had learned to deal with the short lifespans of those around him, at this point the young heroes he had once traveled with after your passing were now seasoned, veteran warriors, or had passed themselves. It wouldn't be the loss of Halson that broke Astarion, it would be the fact that he would truly be the last of you all. 

After Halsin's passing, nobody knew enough about your group anymore to erect a statue of him in the garden. It had been centuries and you had faded from legend to myth. Ancient heroes of days gone past. So Astarion decided to take matters into his own hands and learned to carve stone. 

What? He was an immortal after all, he had eternity to perfect the craft. For decades he’d bring in stone slabs and practice carving, his reasoning being that no way in hell was he lugging around a Halsin-sized statue, but really your own statue looking over him gave him a sense of comfort. And when he had perfected carving stone, he sought other reasons to stay in the garden. After so many years it had become neglected and overgrown, so Astarion took it upon himself to take care of the place. 

After decades of staying in this garden turned to centuries, he began to become a legend in his own right. But not the heroic type you were known as. No, the tales people spun about him were quite depressing. He became known as the caretaker of the Garden of Heroes, and many theorized as to why he did this, spun many a dramatic and tragic tale to be told at the local bar or to gossip about with friends. He’d almost feel insulted, but he rarely left the garden anyway. Being there made him happy, and after so many centuries alive, that’s really what his main pursuit was now. Just happiness. It wasn’t truly living, not entirely. But he had done so much living, far more than even the longest-living elf had ever done, and he figured it was ok now. To just be happy was enough. 

There were rare times when he left the garden, when people came there asking for his help, or when there was a major threat to Baldur's gate, he would offer his aid. The centuries of living never seemed to dull his blade, and with everything he had seen and accomplished, there was no doubt Astarion was one of the most skilled people alive. He truly was a hero from ancient times. 

That’s probably why his death was even more legendary than yours. 

To lose a hero was tragic. But to lose someone who had lived for so long, known so much, seen so much, it was a different type of melancholy for the people of Faerun. Like they had lost an ancient protector. For someone who seemed mysterious, infallible, and all-knowing to fall was a scary thing in some ways. But it wasn’t also without honor.

The people of Baldur's Gate who lived during the time Astarion died probably had no idea why the garden was so important to him. But they did know it was important. So when he died saving Faerun, much like you had done oh so many centuries ago, they decided the most respectful thing to do was return his body to the garden to be laid to rest. Some even debated that he should have his own statue erected in the garden. Ultimately these people didn’t know the significance of this place, who stood here, and why Astarion cared for it, so they decided it would be best to simply return the body. Though later a statue of Astarion would be put up inside Balurs Gate, along with a plaque. maybe people would remember him a little longer than they had remembered you. But everyone fades to the sands of time eventually. Every legend is told one last time. 

Luckily for the rouge vampire spawn, his legend didn't end with his death. It ended when he opened his eyes a few moments later, a gentle touch awakening him. The feeling of fingers running through his curls, and he knew. He knew immediately. No matter how many centuries apart, he could never not recognize your touch. He didn't know where he was, where he ended up after death, but it truly didn't matter to him in this moment. Because wherever he was, you were there with him. After so many years of looking up at your statue, its face faded and details lost to time, he finally got to see the real thing again. He got to know the color of your eyes once more. And in Astarion’s book, that was the best ending he could have gotten.

[bonefall]

Is Sandgorse still abusive in BB? If so does he still save Sparrow? Idk I think it'd be a neat thing for Talltail to brood on and move past once realizing the truth. Like just because your abuser did a "Good Thing tm" doesn't mean you have to forgive them or that all of a sudden it excuses their past a tion towards you.

Or did you remove this plot beat entirely? If so I don't blame you :P

Weird that Tumblr search isn't giving me all the stuff I tagged :/ hopefully after finals are done I can compile a 1st draft/The Story So Far for the rework of Tallstar’s Revenge

It's now called TALLSTAR’S COLLAPSE. It is actually a story I am rewriting with tragedy in mind. It's about Talltail fleeing WindClan with his starcrossed lover, Sparrow, only to eventually be drawn back to it where he becomes a perpetuator of all the things that made him leave.

To answer your question; Yes, and. Sandgorse is abusive and there's a LOT of nuance to this situation. I'm not sure if he still saves "Sparrow" though because I have waaaay more of a point in mind with Tallstar’s tumultuous relationship to him.

Summary of changes,

Tallstar's Collapse

Sparrow is the Clanmew name Jake takes when his group interacts with WindClan. His first language is actually a dialect of Townmew!

(Also Firestar has no known father in BB)

His group is nomadic. They go from place to place trading goods. I need a name for both them and their cultural "cluster" but in my head, Jake's family is the Algernauts because Algernon is the current leader

It's important the Algernauts are extremely endearing because leaving them is VERY painful

(and something i want to frame as the wrong choice for tallstar, emotionally)

WindClan is in a very sensitive period of its history. Before Tallstar was born, Heatherstar began the Mothermouth Moorland War, to take a very large parcel of land from ShadowClan. A good 1/5th of it.

Naturally this is a huge project and incredibly ambitious. Sacrifices Must Be Made

The sacrifice she has chosen to make is the death of tunneling. Because she's smothering it.

Tunneling is PEACEFUL, defensive at best. You can't dig them in a floodplain, they would be useless for holding the Mothermouth Moorland territory

Tallkit is born into a terrible position. Son of the head tunneler, mother in a terrible depression, and Heatherstar trying to pry a wedge between the "future" and the "past"

Im also planning to change his name. He was born Slowworm-Kit, which has a connotation of cleverness in Clanmew. To bully him, Shrewpaw calls him Wormtail, because Slowworms drop their tails if pulled. It means "you will get trapped in a cave-in, and when they pull your tail, it'll fall off"

But it doesn't translate well into English... so I'm not sure what his Heatherstar-given warrior name would be. Wormwing or Wormleap maybe, like he "defied fate" to become a wonderful moor-runner...

Or maybe the prefix is Drop? Droptail as the mean bully name and Dropflight as the warrior name...

Anyway, when he returns, Heatherstar welcomes back the extra claws and honors the lesson he learned with "Talltale." In Clanmew this is "Story-travelled," his leader name meaning "Tale-star."

Anyway. Back to the cat drama

Talltail (name pending) is in a tight spot. I kind of want to show everyone being a victim except Heatherstar herself, who has all the power in this situation.

Not that it excuses anyone

Sandgorse is watching something he loves dying, an ancient tradition passed down for generations. He is trying to force his son into a position he shouldn't HAVE to occupy, but his child is the one thing he might have any control over

(Until Tall breaks it ofc)

Tallpaw was just a kid. He needed to take out his bullying and the stress on something, and that was usually his mother and the concept of tunneling

Palebird has been completely neglected by her mate as he focuses on the person he WANTS his kid to be. She NAMED a Fading Kit, a serious social taboo, and even the support of the nursery and Woolytail can't pull her out before Tall's kithood is over

Heatherstar is using Tallpaw as a political pawn and Tallpaw is too young and hurt to realize it. He was given to her sister, Dawnstripe, and endlessly praised for his skill and talent in a time where he NEEDED positive feedback

Which is making his relationships with his parents worse

All the while, there's VIOLENCE. Regular raids and counterstrikes. Cats die and get injured, and it only escalates as Tall gets older and Cedarstar is reaching the end of his lives, hoping to end the conflict before then

And in all this chaos and uncertainty, there comes Sparrow.

Just a trader and an honored guest, there's been lots of these nomadic visitors since the time of Windstar herself, but they've become quite rare.

When Sandgorse dies suddenly in that collapse (TITLE DROP) Talltail has the push he finally needs. It's too much. He can't process this

Sparrow begs him to leave with them, they don't even need to confront anyone, just come!

IF IT SUCKS HIT DA BRICKS

I have tons of really nice little things planned for this part of the story. It's several chapters of Talltail being free.

He engages in the funeral rites of Wee Hen, asking if he may sit vigil for her. His new family is honored to allow it, Reena even tries to do it too and falls asleep

(Little sister energy)

They meet all sorts of people and go to many places. Talltail learns that the world is vast, and there's an endless amount of knowledge out here.

It all starts crashing down when him and Jake find a litter of abandoned kittens, and become parents.

They're a few moons old.. around the same age as his halfsibs back home.

It starts bringing back memories. He wonders how they're doing. If they made a nice grave for Sandgorse...

The sudden longing for his own mother strikes him like lightning.

For the first time in eons, he feels GUILT over leaving. He thought it was over-- he's living his own life now!

But what if they're hurt? What if there was a battle and he couldn't help? What if his mentor died and he didn't even know?

What kind of a horrible son doesn't even say goodbye?

The problems that made him leave seem so small now, and the homesickness is like acid leaking from his stomach, dissolving his guts and leaving him hollow

He's raising kits who will never know what it means to earn a title, or have a permanent home, or--

(Any of the other things he should have learned don't have meaning outside of clan culture. Things they wouldn't miss.)

He cherishes the memories he makes here, raising children with his mate, but something turns inside of Talltail. Like the groaning ache of a hundred stones on top of a decaying mineshaft

The REAL collapse is this. An existential crisis Talltail can't escape from.

And eventually, it comes tumbling down with one last, horrible nightmare.

In his dream, he came home only to find the sandy camp abandoned, the dens decrepit, full of musty scent and cobwebs.

Sandgorse was there. And they talked.

His dad was gruff as always, disappointed. But he didn't say anything the real Sandgorse would say.

The nightmare said, "You really did turn out like me. We both left your mother when she needed us. Turned our backs on our leader. And now we're both dead to WindClan."

Tall wakes up crying. Jake is there to comfort him, but the conversation they have is sad.

Jake tries to tell him that's all not true, and even if it WAS his dad, his dad sucked and would only say that to hurt him!

But... Tall can't believe it. Jake's right but also wrong. He IS all those horrible things.

And...... how can jake ever Understand? He does not know the Bonds of a Clan cat

(thought terminating cliche. Outsiders Cant Understand Our Bonds.)

He stays a few more days, but that nightmare was the end. And everyone sees the change.

The kits are apprentice-aged. He stayed until they would be old enough to keep up with the Algernauts.

And he says goodbye. He won't ever leave without saying goodbye ever again.

Jake says it doesn't have to be goodbye, he'll always love him, and they can visit! They can see each other again!

And Tall says yes. That this isn't the end. It's... see you later, my love.

(...but they both know how violent it's getting between Wind and Shadow. It isn't safe to visit.)

It is the end. But neither can admit it.

But after Tall is a fair distance away, one of his kits tackles him.

POSSIBLY Post-Tallstar's Collapse

Not sure if I'd put these in a novella or still make it part of it, but these are all directly related to the fallout of Tallstar's Collapse

Most likely is that there would be overlap between this and Brokenstar's Cataclysm, so the same events would be seen in different perspectives.

The kit's name is Fly. Tall has to wait for him to catch his breath and stop crying before they can talk.

Fly already lost parents before. He says he knows he can't make his dads stay together, "But PLEASE, papa, let me choose where I go this time!"

How could he say no? How could he send his son away after a plea like that?

He told him it would be hard. That he would be trained. That there would be dangerous fights.

Fly didn't care, he said he could be strong. He could do anything he needed to.

So... Tall took him to WindClan, where he became Flypaw. He became the warrior he promised he would be.

And Tall didn't notice how much the kid was changing until it was too late. Flytail took to it as if he was Clanborn-- but had to work twice as hard, fight thrice as viciously.

Though Talltail was graced with an Honor Title and open arms, he'd adopted his greatest rival.

Fly and Tall started competing for deputyship as soon as they finished training apprentices; Heatherstar had a fondness for the two of them.

In the end, Talltail won the spot by springing into action and saving Heatherstar's young nephew, a little golden tabby, from an adder.

Flytail continued as one of the more aggressive warriors in the Clan, surviving increasingly violent and bitter battles, until it came to a head in Heatherstar's Last Stand.

Her final battle as an old leader was a gruesome, definitive curbstomp in the last strategic point ShadowClan held above Carrionplace.

One of the losses was Lizardstripe-- neck snapped in Flytail's jaws.

Runningnose, and by extension, the oak-tree to his long-shadow, Brokentail, remembered this. Especially when Runningnose's father Mudfoot collapsed later that year.

As Talltail took leadership from the dying Heatherstar, a familiar regretful guilt wormed into his belly.

His son Flytail stood with a bloody mouth, eyes wet with sorrow, looking down at the leader Talltail once loved almost as much. Appreciating her sacrifice.

(secretly he didnt choose Deadfoot as his deputy just for his honor title or the battle move he invented... he chose him because there was a shocked, sorrowful look in his eyes at the fallen shadowclan cat. Sympathy seems more honorable in this moment.)

Tallstar is a wise leader... but his fatal flaw is naivety. How could he think he'd bring his son into WindClan, and not see the boy grow into a ferocious Warrior?

And naivety is what he displayed when he offered Raggedstar a peace deal. WindClan would keep the land, but they would pay a small tax of rabbits over the winter.

It was unprecedented. It was merciful. It was stupid.

When the winter was over, what would stop them from pushing further south?

Would they trade back the frogs and the flax, come summer?

On the blood and bones of so many warriors? As if giving up was ever an option?

Brokentail killed his father to prevent him from taking the deal, and reawakened Ripplestar's War Tactics.

BURN the peat. KILL the prey. OFFENSE is defense. A dead warrior is 10 less claws. A dead apprentice is 1 less warrior.

Stolen kittens are 1 more warrior on your own side.

Tallstar paid the ultimate price for letting Flytail follow him home that day. On the night of the massacre, Flytail went down fighting alongside a mate and a daughter. Dogpiled by Tangleburr and her squadron in revenge for Lizardstripe and Mudfoot.

Tallstar's granddaughter Stoneclaw, made a warrior and sitting for her vigil on that night, was the sole survivor of the little family.

The event stopped her from speaking again, like she's still sitting vigil.

Tallstar is a character who almost broke free of the control of the Clans. For a brief moment of his life, he was free.

He thought maybe he could change things a little, protect his Clanmates from the battles by being part of them, have the Mothermouth Moorland and protect the peace at the same time. But you CAN'T.

You can't fix broken systems without fundamentally changing them. He thought he could be a nice warlord and that would work on the Clan whose territory he had inherited. Power acts through people just as much as they act through power.

And that's Tallstar. He who travels the world, yet is never able to go far enough. Always falling just a little short of the point, believing that love and mercy is enough while blissfully ignorant of the pressures of pride and power.

Into this role, as a successor to this leader, Onestar is unwillingly thrust.