#but he'd also be a terrible enabler

[tiredesperdad]

I've been thinking about their dynamic way too much since I've started playing age of calamity + replaying breath of the wild so here are some of my thoughts about Teba and Revali under the cut.

Like sadly age of calamity barely scratches the surfaces but man their relationship could be so interesting and if you ask me there isn't nearly enough Revali&Teba fanfic out there. I need them to bond in those "the champions live" AUs, I need it!

Anyway....

So we have Revali. Champion of the Rito. Master of the sky and greatest archer they have ever seen. He worked his ass off to create his gale and he's regarded highly among the Rito even a hundred years after his death. But also he was most likely still very young. There are different headcanons but I'd like to think that he was of similar age as Zelda and Link. We don't know anything about his family but either he wasn't really close with anyone while he was still alive or he lost everything in those 100 years he was gone (most likely a bit of both). He's a bit of a drama queen. He acts arrogant but we know from the champion's ballad dlc that he was rather insecure and putting up a front. He's the kinda guy you sometimes just wanna tell to shut up.

Then you have the Rito who look up to him. Nobody had a blood connection to him or really remembers him as an individual, not like the other champions. He's kind of a legend among the Rito.

And that brings us to Teba.

Teba, like the rest of the Rito, always looked up to their champion and the stories they were told about him. He's the best warrior the Rito have at the time of breath of the wild. He has a son and wife but still acts pretty reckless. Saki and Harth describe him as impulsive and Teba describes himself as rather blunt and direct. He seems like a bit of a grump but also is caring.

And now put those two together.

Like I just love this dynamic of Teba meeting /the/ Rito champion, the guy he spent his whole life looking up to and he's barely older than a fledgling. He's a kid whose kind of a dickhead but also absolutely has all of the skills that are remembered about him. But also like holy shit he's so young. And alone. There are no blood relatives left, everyone he knew is dead. He probably didn't even have many connections while he was still alive. Revali went through a lot of shit, too. Like depending on the AU he not only woke up 100 years later but he probably remembers the fight against windblight ganon, he remembers the fear, he remembers dying maybe. But also he's too proud to admit it and he doesn't open up to anyone.

But then there's Teba who is blunt, he's direct. So I'd like to think he'd be the perfect person for Revali in such a scenario because let's be real, Revali needs someone who will call out the bullshit once in a while and just flat out tells him what he doesn't want to hear but needs to hear. Maybe someone who sees him for the person that he is and not just the champion Revali.

Also I feel like at some point the Rito (in Revali's time) were looking up to Revali so much he really just lived that front of the Rito champion. He couldn't show weakness, he always had to be strong and perfect and couldn't make any mistakes. But that shit can't keep going and Teba probably would just.... kick his ass about it once in a while.

Plus I'm 100% accepting from age of calamity that Revali is good with kids and takes on Tulin/trains him (maybe even the other kids).

Anyway.... Just.... Revali's and Teba's dynamic man. I just love the thought of Teba being that adult that Revali so desperately needs but I also like the thought of these two shitheads impulsively going off all the time and driving Saki and Harth crazy. You have Revali who is about to do something stupid and everyone is like "ah thank god Teba went to stop him" but Teba 100% would go along with it almost every time.

Also sidenote: Give me those Kass and Revali bonding moments. There are exactly zero Kass&Revali fanfics on AO3 and it's killing me, I love Kass so much, please give Revali a calm adult who will play songs for him, thanks.

Also another sidenote: I know mute Link is a big headcanon in the fandom but I've always imagined that he's much more talkative after losing his memories and that would be the reason why he and Revali would get along a lot better if the champions ended up being alive after the 100 years of Link sleeping. A big reason why Revali dislikes Link so much is because he doesn't speak his mind and shows no emotions so I think they absolutely could get over this with Link just being more open (and Revali swallowing his pride for once) because he doesn't have to put up a front anymore.

[shycorvid]

I feel like the Fentons are bad parents trope are really missing out on the Lancer is actually a terrible teacher trope. Sure, he had his good teacher moments (just like the Fentons had their good parent moments), but he also enabled all the bullies and clearly favored the A-listers over all the other students. The dude's basically never matured past the high school popularity mentality.

Don't get me wrong, I love the stories where he's the one concerned for Danny and tries to get him help, but more than likely he'd be the teacher who sees the troubled student and gets their parents involved, only to make the situation worse because the parents are the ones making the student act out in the first place.

[hesperisms]

// The Alphabet of Zayne

"If you can't grasp it with one hand, try using both hands..."

// summary: my attempt at the lewd Alphabet A-to-Z of Zayne.

// content warnings: 18+ (mdni), the whole thing is lewd, says so on the tin.

// a/n: goes without saying, but these are just my personal headcanons around Zayne. yours may be different and that's A-OK. Sylus Alphabet coming up next.

likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated!

A // Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): Being a doctor, Zayne has you up and out of bed into the bathroom right away, giving you a cheeky pat on the backside if you protest as he hustles you out of bed, telling you that you need to go pee (he does not want to be the cause of a UTI and will feel terribly guilty if he has to support you through one). If your legs are too shaky he will carry you bride-style into the bathroom himself and will happily join you in the shower cleaning up after your sessions because it gives him more opportunities to worship your body.

B // Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner): Zayne likes his hands, mostly because you've convinced him that they're fantastic. He's always had skilled, dexterous and lithe hands and they've enabled a very successful career, but they became his favorite body part the day you gushed over how hot they looked when your couples glint photobooth photos came back. It amused him that you couldn't explain what you loved so much about them, but now rather than hide his scars, he will find ways to roll up his sleeves around you and give you a subtle show after work because he knows it turns you on. Conversely, his favorite body part of yours is also your hands; how they fit so small in his, the way you brush your fingers over his bottom lip when you cup his cheek, the way your fingers feel snaked through his hair in the throes of passion, how delicately they wrap around his cock...

C // Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): When Zayne cums, it's a lot; multiple bursts, thick and milky white, never watery. Even his precum is kind of thick and milky and there's a lot of it, he's an oozer. He's never been the type of man to masturbate before he met you and even now, he needs to feel desperately needy to, so he's pent up a lot and unleashes it on you every time you're together. Given his high sugar content in his diet and his predilection for sweet treats, his cum always tastes vaguely sweet, one of the reasons why you let him continue to eat as many sweets as he does.

D // Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): If you give him the opportunity, prior to you taking a work trip, Zayne will sometimes steal your panties. You don't even question it when he starts to buy you lingerie sets and panties. There's no need to call him out on it, he's not greedy; he'll only ever take one pair at a time and you always find them washed and returned to your panty drawer by the time you return home. It started by sheer accident; he slipped your soaking wet panties off under your dress when you two were fooling around in public one night and he didn't want you to lose them so he pocketted them and you both forgot about it. The next day you'd gone away for work for a few days and when he found them in his pocket doing his laundry, full of the scent of you it had driven him into a rare masturbation session.

E // Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): Zayne was a virgin before you. He'd never especially been interested in women, his studies had always come first and then his career, so relationships took a back seat and then before he knew it, you were back in his life, taking your rightful place with him. When things started to get more serious with you, he started to do some research privately so that he wouldn't disappoint you in bed, nothing lewd like watching porn but journals on erogenous zones, g-spot identification and stimulation, clitoral sensitivity and squirting. He wanted to be prepared for anything you might throw at him, because while you were his first, he's reasonably confident he's not your first, but he's never wanted to ask and have it be confirmed.

F // Favorite position (this goes without saying): Girl on top. He loves having you in his lap, straddling him, your perky tits bouncing right in front of his mouth, he gets to look into your eyes while you ride him, he can't get enough of it. This position feels like a cheat code to him, it lets him hide some of his inexperience because it lets the natural curve of his cock apply pressure to your g-spot and he can circle his thumbpad on your clit to provide you with extra stimulation. He's very intense in his need for you, so if you're not careful you'll find your chest and neck covered in love bites after a session in this position.

G // Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): Zayne has a very dry, cheeky sense of humor, so jokes made in the heat of the moment sometimes get misunderstood and taken seriously. That said, he leans to the more serious side when he's being intimate with you, but during foreplay he will make jokes, tickle you, laugh with you.

H // Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): Zayne is meticulous in his personal grooming, he knows body hair can trap in body odor, so he maintains himself impeccably. His chest and his armpits are naturally bare, but he shaves his treasure trail completely and manscapes his pubic hair into a cropped short, neat little bundle. He's very particular about his hair, he doesn't like it out of place, but he'll make an exception for you stroking his hair or grabbing fistfuls of it in a moment of pleasure.

I // Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): Zayne is obsessed with you, so he's very romantic - every session with you is him making love to you. He wants to look into your eyes, capture every moan, every whimper, every tremble and lock it away in his memory for the times you're not with him, he wants to worship you head to toe. Every time he's with you, whether he's being slow and teasing or more desperate and needy, he's seducing you.

J // Jack off (masturbation headcanon): As mentioned above in C and D, masturbating is rare for Zayne - if he's getting off, you need to be involved in some way or it's just not worth it for him. He's never been the type of man to watch porn and get off for the sake of it, it needs to mean something for him so he'll only ever masturbate if you've called him or facetimed him and stirred him up, or if he's had the opportunity to steal a pair of your panties to keep him company while you're out of reach.

K // Kink (one or more of their kinks): You and Zayne have naturally slotted into a soft dom / pleasure dom type of situation in your bedroom antics. He knows you have a praise kink from the way he felt your heart rate surge the first time he called you a good girl, and driving you wild drives him wild, so he loves to play into it for you. Conversely, the first time you held up one of his expensive silk ties and said you'd been a bad girl that needed to be tied up, he felt an incredible rush of blood to his loins. When you look up at him doe-eyed through your lashes and call him Sir, it sends a jolt straight to his cock.

L // Location (favorite places to do the do): Zayne doesn't like to rush his lovemaking and he's a very private, stoic person, so he prefers the bedroom, or the couch. He has slipped on occasion and made love to you in his office with the door locked and his evol having frozen over the handle so it can't be turned, but he has a reputation to consider so those moments of weakness are few and far between. When you're in his bed, he can encourage you to be as loud as you like and he can join you in really letting go.

M // Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): In a word, You. Your pleasure is like a drug to him, he is obsessed with worshipping your body, feeling you come undone on his cock, his hands, his tongue, committing every little mewl and cry of passion to his memory. He needs to hear you screaming his name in pleasure, nothing turns him on more.

N // No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Zayne doesn't swear, he doesn't like to hear swearing from you either. He feels quite strongly that you can express yourself lewdly and dirty talk without needing to resort to it. He also won't do anal - if you try and bring up the suggestion to him, he will go full Doctor mode and explain to you in detail why anal sex isn't going to have any benefits for you. Finally, being the jealous and possessive type, Zayne will never share you with anyone in any kind of polyamorous situation or a threesome. You're his and his alone.

O // Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): Zayne is a munch, he loves to eat you out. When you get back from a work trip he will be on his knees in front of you at the door, slurping away at your pussy like a man that hasn't eaten a proper meal in days. Due to his lack of experience sexually he's a messy eater, loud and dedicated to suckling orgasms out of you back to back until you shove his face away from you. He loves to kiss you after he's eaten you, rubbing his sopping wet lips and chin all over your mouth so you can taste yourself on him once he's done. He's very touch-sensitive so he rarely likes to receive head because he finds it hard to edge himself and not just cum down your throat, but every time he lets you, he insists on kissing you afterwards.

P // Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): Depending on the mood that you've stirred him into, Zayne is either slow and sensual, or slower but intensely forceful. His idea of rough sex is not hard and fast, but pulling all the way out slowly, then slamming back into you and pressing his hips deeply into yours until you cry out, making sure you feel him as deep as you possibly can.

Q // Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): Zayne doesn't like quickies at all. If there's a situation of you two having a potential quickie, he would rather edge and tease you and leave you wanting until later when he can get you home or back to your hotel room and properly pleasure you. If you're being insistent, he might slide his hands under your skirt and finger you at traffic lights to get you off while he drives you somewhere, but he won't partake himself, he'll save it for later in private.

R // Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): Being a doctor, he leans towards the risk-averse. He's open to roleplaying sexually with you, open to some more vanilla bondage aspects like tying your hands with his tie or spanking, but he doesn't get too exotic. Despite you being the love of his life and woman he wants to marry, he insists on condoms even though he knows you're on the pill because the pill isn't 100% effective on it's own. If you asked him about stopping the use of condoms however, he'd be open to it...but it needs to be your ask, he'd never ask you himself.

S // Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): Due to his inexperience, once he's inside you Zayne tends to cum somewhat quickly and only lasts a few minutes, but being a surgeon and very fit, his stamina is through the roof so he recovers incredibly quickly and is ready to go another round in a very short amount of time. He'll cum, eat your pussy to another orgasm and by the time you're done falling apart on his tongue, he'll be ready to slide back in and go again for you.

T // Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): Zayne bought you an app-controlled egg vibrator during a particularly long stint away from you where he'd been working remotely for almost a month. It has a two fold purpose: he gets to ensure he's still pleasuring you even when he can't be physically with you, and he gets to be sure you're going to bed and sleeping at a reasonable hour. It has a pavlovian response in you, the closer to 10pm you see the clock get, the wetter you start to get until you see the little push alert that tells you he's logged into the app and is waiting for you to turn the toy on.

U // Unfair (how much they like to tease): Zayne is an incorrigible tease. He will stir you up relentlessly whispering all sorts of tantalizing nothings in your ear in public, but if you try and touch him and act on them, he won't let you. He will edge you in his lap, holding your hands behind your back, coaxing the answers he wants to hear out of you or he'll stop touching you.

V // Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): He is a MOANER. Zayne is very vocal, gasps, moans, whimpers, growls, pants, all of it escape his lips shamelessly in moments of passion, when he orgasms it's loud and needy, moaning your name in a throaty whine of pleasure. It's another reason why he tries to keep his sexual activities in private and will only have sex in public if he's absolutely sure no one is around (ie: in a secluded garden in the dead of night) because he is LOUD.

W // Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): Zayne would love to experiment with using his evol in a pleasure situation, but he's a little intimidated by the prospect of an evol backlash when he's so unrestrained so he hasn't bought it up to you yet. The idea of making a little ball of ice he can roll against your clit, or a toy of ice he can slide into you is something he's interested in exploring in the future though.

X // X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): Zayne is circumsized, given both his parents are doctors too, and he's a grower, not a shower. He looks fairly average soft, but grows to about 7.5 inches when erect. He's got a curve straight upwards to his cock and it sits high, which makes it perfect for straddling him. He's got average girth, nothing excessive, but you're so small compared to him that it still requires warming you up before you can take him.

Y // Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): His body years for yours all the time, it takes no time at all for you to feel him get hard against you if you cuddle him too long, if you rub your ass against him deliberately to tease him, if you shift in his lap a little too much when you're cuddling watching TV or playing games together. It depends on your moods and situation as to whether or not you'll both act on it and have sex, but his body is keenly enamored with yours.

Z // Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): Due to his PTSD from his time as a battle medic at Mt Eternal, Zayne can sometimes be a light sleeper, so a session with you can be just what he needs to exhaust him enough to fall into a deep, peaceful sleep without his regular nightmares. He tends to fall asleep very quickly in your arms, because it's where he feels the safest.

[middlingmay]

German!Gale AU Part 2

Part 2 of my headcanons for my German!Gale AU. We deal with language barriers, the resistance, and an opportunity for Gale.

So, now Gale has a fugitive American airman on his hands, and he's not quite sure what to do with it. But he knows, he can feel that this is finally his time to do something rather than enabling others. This is his chance to help someone. That need that always burned in his core to help others, that his dad regularly scolded and beat out of him whenever Gale couldn't quite keep it down in his presence? Well, it was back with a vengeance, and Gale didn't think he was ever going to be able to put it out.

And it's completely inappropriate. There are more important matters at hand, literally life or death, but when he unearths John from the hay cart and ushers him inside, Gale can't help but be bewildered by the sheer amount of hay that can get stuck inside dark curls.

"You look ridiculous," he says with the patchy English he knows. "Like der Löwenzahn."

And John might not know a lick of German beyond the basics the brass drilled into him, but he knows when he's being judged. And if he weren't in so much pain he might be of a mind to get pissy about it, but he can feel a whole hell of a lot now the adrenaline's wearing off.

He tries to scrub a hand through his hair but winces and curses and bites on his lip hard.

"Stay, no," Gale shakes his head and gestures with his hand and John gets the point. "Mein Vater..."

The idea of his father getting his hands on John, and the prize he would be for the Nazi's makes Gale want to vomit.

John gets it and tries to stand. "Got it. Thanks. Just point me to safety and I'll be on my way."

And Gale rolls his eyes because he'd heard American's were dramatic, but trying to embark on a solo expedition across enemy territory is a bit much.

So he pushed John back into his chair.

"Ich habe..." he gesticulates, searching for the words, "time. To fix." He points at John's face.

And so he does, all whilst trying to think of a plan - or a better one that the mad idea that occurred to him almost as soon as John showed up.

He gently cleans the blood of John's face, John who doesn't look away form him once even when Gale hits a particularly sore spot around his eye. And when he's done Gale notices that he's uncovered a wild amount of freckles and doesn't notice he's smiling.

When John asks why, Gale struggles to find the words. "You look, like himmel," Gale points up, meaning the sky. "At night. All spotty."

And John laughs barking, tearing his face from Gale's grip and grins at him. "Yeah, fuck you too."

And he gives John some warm water and a cloth and some privacy. He also fetches him some clothes, a white undershirt and a grey sweater and dark grey trousers, and Gale strives to ignore how well they fit him.

He makes a plan to dispose of John's soiled clothes, but when he goes to take John's jacket - a disgusting, perhaps-it-used-to-be-white, utterly terrible sheepskin thing, John snatches it off him and shoves it on over his fresh clothes.

Gale wrinkles his nose and looks at John like he's stupid and gestures at the patches signifying the US Air Force. And John might blush, but still refuses until Gale hands him a short black overcoat, too.

So Gale ushers them outside, and John manages to stay quiet until Gale gets into a beat up old car. John just leans down to the window.

"What's the plan, Buck?"

And Gale wants to tell him everything - about the resistance, about his father, about his need to do something - but he can't. Not here. So he says, "To keep you alive."

And that does the trick, until they start to get closer to town and John's leg bounces up and down until it's driving Gale crazy and he has to put his hand over to settle it, and miraculously, it does.

"I have friends," he says as he drives. "Der Widerstand, yes?"

No. John just looks at him confused.

"They... no Nazis, ja? They...make trouble for Nazis."

And John's face clears like the summer sky and he slumps back into his seat.

"Are you fucking tellin' me, that of all the farms I could have stumbled upon, I find one part of the goddamn resistance?!"

But Gale hushes him fiercely, paranoid, and corrects him. "Not farm. Not father. Just...me."

And John mutters something about crazy people and no appreciation for my lucky jacket, and follows on Gale's heel when he reaches their destination and deems it safe for them to get out the car.

It's only a few feet to the non-descript door, but they feel like the longest chasm John's had to cross.

A square hatch opens and Gale mutters a word and he's yanking Gale inside.

And a whole bunch of arguing follows and someone shoves Gale and John is up in that fucker's grill before he knows what he's about, and exhausted or not, he drops that sucker on his ass with a busted nose so fast, and the place is silent.

"Now I don't know what you're hollerin' about, but if someone wants to get me back to friendly territory, well. That'd be swell."

Gale gestures at him to take off the overcoat, and the other guys in the room see his air force sheepskin and it's like someone cuts a puppet's strings. Everyone relaxes and the guy on the floor looks embarrassed and if Gale kicks him a little as he walks past them, well. John wasn't gonna snitch.

So they come up with a plan to smuggle John out, and he notices Gale is getting further and further way from him, and John digs his heels in and the guy trying to lead him away jerks back.

"Where are you going?" John says to Gale. "He's coming with me."

And the blood rushes from Gale's face but everyone else seems ecstatic at the idea.

"I can't leave you here, Gale. Those Nazi's will figure out you helped me eventually. So just, come with me."

And Gale hears the others thrilled at having a source connected to the Allied forces: the help they could offer, the resources. And Gale trembles, thinking of all those times he'd thought of escaping his father, and all those times he really wanted to help people, and how he just couldn't, being stuck here.

But he didn't want to swap one prison for another.

"Your - Luftwaffe. They will prison me?"

And John looks angry at the idea and vows, "No they fucking won't," and Karl, the leader of their local resistance group, scribbles a note in the code he used that Gale didn't understand and thrust it into Gale's hand."

"Give this to the commanding officer. It will keep you safe."

And that evening, Gale finds himself in the back of a truck, tucked against American pilot John Egan's side, with no idea of what was ahead of him. He was terrified, and excited, and finally felt like he was where he was supposed to be.

[artofhazbinhotel]

I don't like when people portray Vox as being abused by Valentino, I don't think there's a power imbalance and I feel there's a line they won't cross because of respect, their communication skills are shit but Val ain't punching or slapping his business partner like he's just some worker. Also if he did Vox wouldn't take it, he'd fight back, he's not this uwu soft boy people like to think. Vox sells a way for perverts to stalk people, is a stalker himself, he knows what Val does to angel and doesn't care, he promotes Velvette's love potions and Valentino's work, and is an enabler who gladly associates with them. All of the vees are terrible people, the only difference is Vox and Velvette aren't r*pists

[unforth]

@esper-aroon has enabled me, so here let me scream at y'all about The Imperial Uncle.

Okay, so I recently read The Imperial Uncle (Huang Shu) by Da Feng Gua Guo from Peach Flower House and I really loved it??? It's first person pov, mlm, about the Emperor's uncle Jing Chengjun, who is mistrusted by everyone simply because of who his parents were and his position, and so he's basically given up on trying to convince people that he's actually a nice, decent person without ulterior motives. He's super trapped by his position, and there's so much he can't say and do, and he's also a hopeless romantic, like, from his own mouth all he really wants is to sleep beside and wake up next to someone who actually gives a shit about him, and even that is basically out of reach in his life. Like, the book starts with his wife (who he has never once had sex with) storming into a meeting he's having and announcing he's a cuckold and she's pregnant.

But also, this poor bastard really thinks he knows what's going on and his very smart. Very unreliable narrator. He's actually kinda a hilarious, impulsive himbo. But the TL:DR is that his loneliness and isolation and the extent to which he's politically trapped routinely lead him to make absolutely terrible decisions.

E. Danglar's translation is absolutely gorgeous, too, and... idk, if you love political plots, melodramatic idiot main characters, a dose of pining, and a slow burn that eventually pays off, come take a look??? (some people think it's a love triangle??? idk, I never really got that vibe, I never felt it was really in doubt which of the two potential dudes he'd end up with, but maybe I only feel that way because I got it right, lmao).

Anyway, I can't stop thinking about how these two idiots end up finally finding each other and getting together, and I have an entire AU in my head (a modern corporate one) and part of another (canon divergent from like a decade before the book starts), and I just want people to love this book as much as I did and scream with me about it.

[merakiui]

don’t forget during the Halloween event (the one where they go to the underworld) ace asks to go check on you when ur missing without anyone asking! And tells u how scared he was that u were missing 🥺

Aaaa yes!!! He's so fond of the player. It's very cute. orz he loves spending time with them as well. There are so many times in which Ace invites the player to Heartslabyul events or it's implied he spends time over at Ramshackle. >w< but if anyone were to ask why he seems so attached to you, he would just deny it and get huffy hehe. Insisting that that's not it! Definitely not! Absolutely not!

Ace is genuinely such a good friend to have. If anyone's giving you trouble, he'd be the first to speak his mind on it. A very strong character! His involvement in Heartslabyul book is always very impressive to me because he was the only one out of all of those students to actively and outright resist and speak against Riddle's tyranny even when it landed him punishments and Off With Your Head.

It's such a powerful moment when he stands up to Riddle and gives him the reality check he needs but has never received:

Trey and Cater are near Riddle in a somewhat defensive position. They're still trying to protect and shield him because it's what they've done best in order to mitigate bad behaviors. They know it's wrong, but the mindset of "if it's mostly under control, it's okay," is easier to enable because it's much harder to tell Riddle to his face that what he's doing is wrong. All of what Ace says is true. It's a very valid point! His entire monologue is amazing, especially these parts!!!!!

There are different types of intelligence. Riddle's is very textbook and academic. He's so smart, but when it comes to things like friendship or social situations and cues he's mostly lost because he wasn't given the time as a child to explore and experience (natural) friendship like a normal child. Ace is right; it's terrible that he was raised in such a way, but then Riddle isn't entirely faultless himself. It's up to him to decide whether he wants to continue to perpetuate the cycle his mother subjected him to, just as it's up to him to decide if he wants to change and better himself. No one else can do that for him. They can tell him so, but nothing will change if Riddle doesn't recognize that he needs to reflect and improve.

I also like Ace in that chapter because he's so real and raw with his words. He doesn't sugarcoat it. He lays out the reality of the situation, acknowledges that it's not great, but also explains that just because it's a bad situation it shouldn't be used in a way to enable or excuse Riddle's actions.

Ace plays such a vital role in Heartslabyul's arc. If not for him, this confrontation would not exist and the dorm would likely still function as it did pre-overblot. He's a good friend. He'll call you out on your nonsense if he thinks it's detrimental or just isn't right and that's a very good quality he has! :D

[jo-harrington]

Charitas. (An As Above, So Below Story)

Gratia. Charitas. Solamen. Grace. Charity. Peace. The oath of the Knights of the Holy Order.

Summary: You and Eddie--separated by time and endless suffering--don't realize how many strings keep you connected on the web of fate. What players are there trying to cut those strings? And when will you both find out that they are unbreakable?

Word Count: 3.7k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!OC (The Knight - Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)

Warnings/Themes: Soulmates, Kas!Eddie, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Minor Character Deaths, Manipulation, Transformation, Corruption, Supernatural Encounters, Religious Elements, Discussion/Criticism of Religion, Biblical and Other Literary and Pop Culture References

Note: Sorry this one has taken forever. The next part is already written, just gotta clean it up. Shouting out @powderblueblood and @rosewaterandivy for being my fellow media vacuums and not only enabling me to do this/what's next but also Powder specifically for her love of the Archie-verse because CAoS is one of my favorites and why would I not let the Knight get a chance to face Faustus Blackwood one on one while also maybe alluding to The VVitch and criticizing religion even more?

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

“But the rage passes and leaves no trace behind.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke, Sonnets to Orpheus

November 12, 1986

You'd developed a dislike for small towns.

Hawkins might still be home in some ways, but it was more because of the people who had lived there--the memories--than the town itself. But it, too, fell into the category of small towns that you'd grown to hate:

Small, unassuming places that held some kind of dark, terrible, dangerous secret. Atrocities in the making.

You'd walked into Hawkins fully oblivious to the monsters that lurked there, though.

Here and now, with Greendale, you were almost too aware.

Jinette had entirely too much to say about it and that unsettled you.

Strange energies and missing children and sudden turns of fortune for seemingly innocent townspeople. Rituals performed in the woods and a possible portal straight to hell.

"I'll knock on the door," you joked as you read through a report he'd provided about the Greendale Mines. "Maybe I'll get some kind of time off for good behavior if I hand Satan my soul in person, instead of waiting to die for him to take it."

Jinette ignored you; jokes were lost on the clergy.

Instead of a lecture though, he simply gave you a warning: to be on the lookout for witches.

"Thought the Order vowed not to discriminate against religions," you'd scoffed at him. He ignored you again and just sent you on your way.

The Order against discrimination? Sure. The Catholic Church? Definitely not. And Jinette? The most judgmental bastard of all.

Still, his warning was front and center as you felt an unnatural, chilling frequency of magic in the air upon your arrival in Greendale.

"Let's get this over with," you slammed the door shut and shouldered your backpack so you could start investigating.

Greendale was nice enough--it had that hazy, natural beauty of the late fall that was synonymous with upstate New York--and if you weren't in such a sour mood, you probably would've enjoyed it. This stage of your work was always somewhat fun. Talking to people and learning local histories, seeing different buildings as you walked around, eating a little lunch at some hole-in-the-wall off-the-beaten-path type of place.

But you were surrounded by ghosts. Both literal and figurative.

Someone died on that street corner, heart stopped cold as though someone had stuck a pin in it.

There was a bakery that had apricot kołaczkis; not Italian but still one of Nonna's favorites.

The dentists office used to belong to a serial killer who'd never been caught; the spirits of his victims rapped on the little window at street-level, begging to be let out even decades later.

Cerberus Books was a beacon for classic horror with neon lights and mannequins dressed as monsters in the windows...and Eddie would have loved it.

You fought the urge to flinch as you felt the phantom feeling of his hand in yours, his voice in your ear urging you to go inside and look around.

You closed your eyes and took several calming breaths to clear your mind. Little by little those ghosts were banished and you'd regained your cool, your focus.

If the Order wanted you to be a weapon, you would be one. You'd break whatever darkness lurked in Greendale and then onto the next job, and the next one, and the next one. Until you could go home. Your real home.

Then you wouldn't need to rely on ghosts anymore.

Or fear them.

Your world was knocked off its axis as someone exited Cerberus Books and crashed into you. Even moreso as a surge of unearthly, dark power clashed with your heavenly one, and you fought the urge to tap into that power to repel the intruding force away from you.

The man that crashed into you grabbed your shoulders to steady you before you fell, and you breathed in the smoke-and-brimstone tinged air that surrounded him. It was suffocating and further tapped into that instinct towards defensiveness.

But as you regained your bearing, all you could see was how unassuming he looked.

Truly, his visage belied that imposing aura--a kind older man in a suit and fedora, with neatly-trimmed facial hair, and a gentle smile--but you could sense that he was a witch, just as he sensed you were...

What were you?

He held you there for a moment and you watched as his brow quirked. He read you, just as you read him. A mutual discovery. Tenuous, so as not to alarm one another, but curious.

Although naturally adverse, you could sense no danger to each other.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized softly. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"N-No, no," you insisted. "I was caught up in my head, it's my fault."

"You're...new to Greendale." he stated.

"Just driving through," you answered, an excuse that was well-used in the past few years. This time you had a feeling you meant it. "Maybe sticking around for a few days."

"The diner has a great cherry pie."

"Cherry's my boyfriend's favorite."

"Is he traveling with you?"

Yes.

It was on the tip of your tongue. Because yes, actually he was just here with you. The memory of him, the ghost of him. You wished he was, and maybe that was enough to make him real.

Maybe that was enough so this witch felt him.

"No," you said instead. "It's just me."

His gaze softened as you continued to study each other. You held out your hand to him.

"Anyway, I should get going," you told him and you held out your hand to shake. "Thank you for the recommendation, and sorry again Mr..."

"Spellman," he replied, hands letting go of your shoulders so he could shake yours, but his words were like a shot to your heart. "Edward Spellman."

November 6, 1983

Henry was an observer, a thinker, a visionary.

He took care of them, offered mercy when he wasn't required to. He simply demanded obedience in return for all that he provided for his children in the Upside Down.

But for some reason beyond understanding, chaos had broken out.

And he was livid.

Eddie stood tall and received the images that his master filtered through his mind; strange growths, riotous creatures, and the partial reformation of the beast that Henry himself gave life to: the Mindflayer.

All with a will of their own.

"You must fix this," Henry demanded of his right hand, his general. "You must restore order."

The efforts of the physical communication winded him, as he was still fragile and healing from the attack by Eleven's friends, so he continued to relay unspoken demands through the collective consciousness. He strained to spread his authority as far through the dimension as he could.

Destroy the malcontents or you shall be destroyed.

A warning not just for Eddie, but for any of the creatures that resided under his rule to reconsider their rebellion before they met their demise.

Then came a jarring mental image of a wasteland of bodies, torn apart but still writhing and alive. The pain that would come in the wake of any betrayal would be immense, and he would keep all of them alive for as long as he saw fit to extend their suffering.

No Gods or devils could enact the devastation he could, if only they tested him.

"Does that mean you too?" you sowed doubt inside of him. "The destruction? What would happen if you didn't listen?"

Eddie stiffened as he felt the tug of your presence at the corner of his mind, hidden in that deep, dark pit. A spark amidst the void. He growled, both in acceptance of Henry's orders and to silence you.

"Do you know what this reminds me of?" He fought the urge to twitch under Henry's all-knowing gaze as you continued. "The Emperor. And Vader. Do you remember Return of the Jedi?"

His mind was a flurry of images again, these vague and distant though, twining with the ones that Henry had just relayed to him: spaceships and planets and furry little creatures, and Vader towering over Luke--

"Do you question me?" Henry snapped at him, gnarled body shaking with the effort. Eddie's eyes focused on his master once more. "Beast?"

He ducked his head and growled again. Grumbled. Repentant in his errors.

"Question him," you hissed, emboldened to no longer stay buried and hidden in the pit but slithering along his skin. Unseen, but acutely felt. "Do it. What's happening? Why are they rebelling? Ask him."

He let the growl turn into a roar, a battle cry and a warning to keep you silent. He then took to the air, determined to succeed in snuffing out this insurgent blight that had taken root in the Upside Down.

His master needed him, relied on him.

He wouldn't fail.

No matter how much you tempted him to.

November 14, 1986

To find witches, one often had to think like a witch.

Though the term witch when it came to those who practiced magic was just as broad as the term Abrahamic when it came to some of the so-called “major” religions of the world. One of your fellow Knights considered themselves a witch, more of a polytheist with an affinity for Hecate, but they derived their abilities from nature.

Technically you did too, your powers rooted as deep within the earth as they were tied to the Heavens.

Maybe it was all the same? Or maybe it was all bullshit.

The type of witch that you were looking for though, the type that Edward Spellman was, was something else. Dark rituals, blood curses, deals with demons, names signed in books, machinations with The Devil himself.

“Arthur Miller was popping a boner somewhere right now,” you muttered.

You supposed it felt a little unsettling, but less in a way that made you fearful, and more in the way that oil floated on water. Similar, both liquids, just...not meant to mix.

Which is why you kept yourself calm and open minded.

"I'm not here to kill them," you reminded yourself. "Find out why innocents are disappearing...stop them, maybe...but they'll carry on unharmed."

Truly, you could have just followed Edward Spellman as he went about his business in town, but you figured that that would have probably been as suspicious and rude as you could get.

That's why you enacted your own sort of a tracking spell.

Witches didn't always move in the world like mortals did; they transmuted, teleported, moved along the shadows cast by clouds and trees and blades of grass.

But if you reached out…asked the clouds and trees and grass to show you what they’d seen? Well, then it would be impossible for them to stay hidden.

So you walked.

Left your car at the motel and set foot into the lush forests surrounding Greendale, letting instinct guide you.

The further away from town you got, the more unruly your surroundings became, until you ended up following an old, overgrown set of railroad tracks deeper into the wilderness. Bats or birds--you couldn't quite tell--flew overhead; omens of some sort urging you to give up and go back to safety.

"How bad could it be?" you asked aloud, only to skid to a halt as something larger and shadowy crossed your path ahead.

Once again, you couldn't make out what it was, but the energy it left behind felt dangerous and smokey, an ephemeral stain of dark magic.

You took a calming breath and clenched your fists, ready for whatever you might find, and soldiered on.

Eventually, the treeline thinned, and power lines sprung up along the track, and then a structure. Large, looming, and made of stone and glass; it was overgrown with dead ivy and surrounded by tall, dry grasses.

Gehenna Station.

You scoffed at the name, at the implication, but the longer you observed the structure, the more you felt the underlying darkness that churned within. In fact, the longer you stared, the less sure you seemed to feel of the building's existence itself. Your eyes started to lose focus of the structure; your perception wavered, almost like it didn't want you to know that it was there.

Maybe it wasn't even there at all?

"Good afternoon Miss."

You whirled on your heel, ready to defend yourself, only to find a young boy standing there. His eyes were large, cheeks round and soft, and there was a small smile on his lips; kindness and innocence emanated from him, but also a deep sadness.

It didn't take long for you to realize that he was dead.

"You don't belong here," he stated matter-of-factly. "You should go."

"I'm here to help," you told him instead. There was no duplicity when it came to ghosts; they could see through you, no pun intended. "Kids are dying. Kids like you. Can you tell me what happened? I can try to stop it and find you some peace."

His brow furrowed, and he pouted.

Then he held his hand out to you, palm upwards for you to lay your own hand in his small grasp. You hesitated for a moment, but gave in.

He was solid and your hand didn't sink through his form like you expected. But as your palms touched, you saw.

A dank cell illuminated by the moonlight with sights that would drive one insane.

A desolate forest full of dead trees and a clawed beast that slunk unseen.

And a looming tree laden with thirteen rotten apples and a swinging noose.

The Harrowing. And it truly was as it's name described, as you watched one child after another succumb to the trials.

You blinked and the images were gone, but the sound of screaming still rang in your ears.

"It's always been this way, Miss," the boy said sadly as he pulled his hand away again. "You can't help us. No one can."

Something burned in your chest at his words, the finality of it, the acceptance of this fate. How many times had you heard that from your father or Jinette or the other Knights? This is the way it always would be. Cycles. Downward spirals.

You'd already decided that that would end with you.

This would too.

"The hell I can't."

You let go of the boy's hand, turned back towards Gehenna Station, and started walking.

Every step felt heavier and heavier, but you proceeded onwards until the doors of the building opened of their own volition and then slammed shut behind you once you were inside.

November 6, 1983

Eddie soared over the vast landscape of the Upside Down alone.

He had gotten used to flying with legions of bats at his sides, wings beating in tandem. It was a euphoric experience to be with them. Be one with them. To dip and roll, swarm, and even play.

He tried calling out to them through the bond—

Help me, the master demands your cooperation, your obedience.

—but there was no response. Not even a reluctant one.

It was irritating. He was leader after Henry, for all intents and purposes. Even their friend in some cases, their own flesh and blood.

Why wouldn't they come at his call?

He could feel them. Some waiting in the trees, cowering. Some were tempted to fly with him, soar with him, safe with him in the lead.

But there was something in the air that stopped them from answering the call.

A strange sense of foreboding, a shift in the presence of the dimension itself. A change in frequency, in the fragile balance of control that Henry had over everything.

Even the particles floating around him didn’t seem right.

“Are you sure he’s in control?” you whispered deep within him. “Are you sure Vecna is telling you the truth?”

Of course, you were still there clinging to the edges of the pit inside of him, snatching at his thoughts like the parasite you were.

He curled his lip and growled at you again, willing you to be silent. But you simply refused. Whispering worries and warnings.

It was curious how your tone had changed. You seemed weaker here. Unsure. In contrast to how you’d been earlier in his master’s presence. There was a tenuous quality to you now.

He had considered, more than once, that you were some machination of Henry’s. To weed out the disloyalty in him. A little remnant of his humanity to taunt him and tempt him. A test.

But even with unhindered access to Eddie’s mind, there were simply things Henry couldn’t be bothered with. Memory, emotion, humanity. Those were all things he sought to destroy when he created the perfect weapon.

All of the things that you tried to bring out of him.

“Be careful,” were the final words slithering from you before you went silent once again.

He scoffed despite the pang in the hollow space where his heart should be.

Careful.

That was another indicator that you couldn’t possibly be of Henry’s design.

Careful wasn’t in his nature anymore.

Had it ever been, though? Even when he was alive, even when he was truly Eddie Munson, had he ever been cautious or careful? If he had been, he wouldn’t have brought Chrissy Cunningham to his trailer that fateful night.

Then he wouldn’t have shed that fragile body and become something greater.

This was fate.

He could feel you scoff at the thought now, and he grinned ferally, hoping his great and dark destiny would keep you quiet.

His wings beat harder, propelled him faster, motivated by the thought of some peace and quiet from you. At the prospect of being his master’s great weapon and champion.

He preened so hard, he didn’t realize how human the action actually was.

Until he crossed some seemingly invisible threshold, some metaphorical membrane made up of static electricity, that made everything go quiet.

The constant buzz of the hive mind was suddenly gone, thousands of consciousnesses silent, and his body seized momentarily as he reacted to the tangible loss.

Everything felt harder to do--breathing, thinking, feeling--and he went into freefall.

Down he went. Falling and flailing, air whipping about him. If he thought flying had been a freeing feeling, falling was another kind of freedom; something deep down and dark inside of him welcomed it, the prospect of a hard and fast demise.

But as his eyes drooped closed, the phantom feeling of your hands grasped at him, encircled his torso and willed him to take flight once more. Your phantasmic voice sounded underwater to his uncooperative ears, to his non-existent soul, as you screamed for him.

“Eddie!” His name brought him back into focus as hands grasped his face. Your invisible touch was electric and abruptly brought the world back into focus. “Eddie, wake up!”

He gasped a breath as your spark kickstarted his reflexes, but it was simply too late. He crashed heavily into the ground, barreling through the earth, until he came to a halt.

His body, unbreakable, seemingly bent with the impact. His ears rang, he couldn’t move, couldn’t think.

There was a distinct absence of being.

An absence of everything.

But he swore, before he lost himself, he saw the impossible.

He saw your face.

November 14, 1986

The inside of Gehenna Station was exactly what you expected.

That is to say, it was nothing that you expected; you had expected the unexpected.

If you reached out with your consciousness, you felt...a vast infinity. Halls that led everywhere, rooms of an unimaginable quantity. No wonder the outside of the building felt as if it wasn't there, because it really wasn't. This pocket reality was folded inside of it.

And what this pocket reality was, was a school.

A suspiciously empty school.

There were empty classrooms and hallways, an auditorium with a slide projector showing a list of incantations on a screen at the front, a cafeteria with trays of abandoned lunches.

You explored and searched--looking for someone, anyone--until you found yourself back in the main atrium, before a statue of a man with a goat's head and lower body, winged, with two fingers pointed up and two pointing down, surrounded by statues of children.

Baphomet.

"Interesting," you muttered as you encircled it.

You'd think a place like this, a place of satanic witches, would have some kind of idolatry towards Satan himself. Traditional depictions of devils and demons, maybe even some kind of artistic imagery of the archangel Lucifer?

Not this.

Your thoughts raced.

Hadn't you just contemplated your fellow Knights and their differences of beliefs outside? Yes. And that was where the mystery of this school and these witches remained. Everything had meaning; imagery like this had meaning, words had meaning.

Gehenna had ties to Hell and eternal suffering, places of divine punishment, and yet this was a school. A place for children to learn and grow. And Baphomet? People often mistook it for something sinister but Baphomet symbolized balance, the equilibrium of opposites; as above, so below and all that. Equal light and darkness inside everyone and everything. Peace at finding a balance with it. Equality in all and for all.

How could a statue that depicted children, trusting and reverent, stand for an institution that killed kids?

You supposed that the contradictions found here were akin to those in your own beliefs; how the church was supposed to be merciful, but you only found wickedness--like Jinette...like yourself--tied to it. That's how you were in this mess in the first place; someone using God as a justification to kill and steal.

"Guess all religions are shit," you snorted.

That's why you needed to find out what was actually happening here and stop it.

Unfortunately, in your rumination, you'd let your guard down.

You felt it before you saw it, the slide of your sneaker on the uneven floor. When you looked down to investigate, the tiles--made to look like a thousand eyes--began to fall away right under you.

The last thing you did before the floor beneath you disappeared and you fell into some dark oblivion wasn't an attempt to save yourself or find something to hang onto.

Instead you snorted and thought:

Guess the whole thing about being delivered right to Satan wasn't such a joke after all.

"I am good, but not an angel. I do sin, but I am not the devil." — Marilyn Monroe

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for repeatedly losing my temper at my kinda-friend? I (17F) have anger issues and I'm working on mitigating it, however, losing my temper always involves yelling and insulting people. Usually I think this is bad and apologize profusely when I lose control.

However, this kinda-friend (16F) who I'll call E, has absolutely no respect for other people's personal belongings, space, or time. She always grabs and plays with my things during class, or our mutual friend's items (16F), and as all three of us are artists, we carry around pretty expensive equipment. (Think Micron ink pens, Winsor & Newton paint, Derwent pencils, etc., just as reference. Thankfully no Copics lmao.)

The mutual friend will be referred to as J.

So, E has been told by both of us to stop taking our art supplies and playing with it, to the point where I'll yell sometimes, and she absolutely refuses to listen to us. She'll claim that she's forgotten what we've told her and put down the item just for her to pick it up again five seconds later. The problem is that she sometimes breaks these items or injures us - she'll play with my x-acto blade and cut me, or break J's graphite pencils, or push my watercolor palette off the desk. I've really tried to be patient about it, but it's proving to be difficult.

J is quite soft spoken, so I end up doing most of the reprimanding. E also brings up inappropriate topics that make J and I uncomfortable, as well as disturbing us when we're busy and then sulking when she doesn't get our immediate attention - once I told her three times to let me do my classwork before snapping, and E cried. She never does anything in school and hates all of our teachers, so she's pretty rude to them. All my work gets copied by her. She really annoys me, but I do feel terrible that I seem to lose control so often around E, since no one deserves to be yelled at.

However, this all came to a peak today when R (16M) and I won prizes for winning a mini-game and asking an interesting question during a seminar at school respectively; the gift was a black notebook that I didn't even like, which is an important tidbit to keep in mind. R left his gift still wrapped in his bag when he left the classroom for break time, so it was just J, E, and myself in there. Upon seeing what I had unwrapped, E went to R's bag and opened it - since all four of us are friends, we thought E was just being "jokingly" invasive as usual and were on alert, but didn't stop her.

J asked what she was doing and E said she was grabbing the gift out of R's bag. This caught my attention, so I asked why she was doing that. E told us that she wanted the book, and when J reminded her that the gift was, in fact, not hers, E said (and I wish I was kidding because this is replaying in my head in 4K HD right now like oh my god pls) "I know. It should be mine." Had she asked for my notebook, I would've given it up happily. I've got too many empty sketchbooks and notebooks at home.

I immediately stood up, but allowed J to handle the situation because I didn't trust myself not to react violently. J eventually lost her temper too and that's when I jumped in and started my yelling routine. I always feel bad whenever I do this, because it's not something I enjoy, but in this particular situation I just can't muster up the guilt? E is extremely irritating, but she tells us she has a horrible home life, so I try to be understanding. Except this was just completely intolerable. R even said that he'd predicted this would happen and to just give her the damn notebook - I vetoed that so we wouldn't enable E.

I really don't know if my reaction was overblown because I shouted a lot and said things like "you were given a brain - use it" and "you're a terrible person with no morals". It's ridiculous to say all that because it's (at the end of the day) high school drama, but I really can't understand why she acted that way. I don't know if I'm in the wrong in this situation. I wish she would listen when we tell her nicely not to do something, but even when I was blowing up at her, she was just smiling as if it was a joke. Should I apologize? I've apologized before when I lost my temper, but I have completely lost all will to be civil with her after this. The teachers are tired too - when she disappears from class or talks back, they just let her be. We can't really go to them because she'll feel betrayed and then get mad at us, which is a whole ordeal, because she's known to destroy and sabotage other people's items because of a grudge.

This is really lengthy. I apologize. I just feel terrible about the situation because I don't feel any guilt for my anger like I probably should. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[qilingxiong]

for the last first time

A sequel to @ilgaksu's ficlet, which you can read here. We're both terrible enablers of each other, which results in things like us spontaneously deciding to start a fic series at a time when both of us should have been asleep. You can also find both our ficlets on Ao3 here.

This investigation should have proceeded like any other. Or at least what Di Feisheng would consider any other, with precedent set by all the cases he's been dragged into solving: make observations on your own as much as possible, be discreet, then ask around for clues if necessary. By simple inquiry or by interrogation, whichever is required. Being at Fang Duobing's side, day in and day out, means that Di Feisheng is expected to try the former first, excruciating as it is. Fortunately he doesn't often have to make conversation himself, not when Fang Duobing has enough words for both of them, and probably one person more. 

    There's nothing much left for Di Feisheng to do, in such cases, but wait until he's done. Standing in contentedly threatening silence, while Fang Duobing's pleading dark eyes work to whatever confession-eliciting effect they seem to have, alongside the charm of a person who acts like they have patience for other people and genuinely seems to mean it.

    And this is where today deviates from that standard of 'any other', because asking around for clues, more often than not, demands venturing into places where lips are likely to loosen with wine, or food, or money. These Di Feisheng can tolerate, the hazy chatter of a tavern or anonymous sea of a marketplace. The disappearance of this particular local aristocrat Fang Duobing is looking into, however, has led them somewhere else, areas in which the man liked to spend his time. As it turns out, brothels draw everyone from the peasants to the magistrates, and so there information can be traded for alongside pleasure.

   For some, anyway. Di Feisheng straightens his posture, grips his blade more tightly, and shuffles his stance to look out at the bustling street. The lanterns strung between buildings, casting a warm glow over the city as dusk crests over the horizon. The sky, settling from blue to inky violet. The calls of street vendors and clusters of people finding their way home or out of it.

    Essentially, facing anywhere that isn't the sweet-faced girl outside the door of the brothel behind him, probably no more than twenty and, based on her expression and the lilting beckon of gongzi when Fang Duobing parted with Di Feisheng here, wanting more from him than as much indifference as he can politely project.

    Why did Fang Duobing insist on paying a visit during the evening? Oh, he knows— It'll be easiest to find information when it's busy, and we'll be less conspicuous, he'd said to Di Feisheng's blank stare that morning— but really, they couldn't have tried for before every courtesan had settled into their evening routine?

    You're not shy about this, are you, A-Fei? Fang Duobing had smiled then, as though he wasn't still half-draped over Di Feisheng with the sheets a tangled mess, the underrobe sweat-clinging to Fang Duobing the only clothing on either of them. And Di Feisheng had turned over in demonstrative answer, had bitten another blossoming mark into Fang Duobing's clavicle that was only barely hidden by his collars when they rolled out of bed—

    And apparently his plan for Di Feisheng's reluctance was to let him stand outside this pleasure house by himself.

    (No, he's not shy. It's simply that this many years on, Di Feisheng has never known need to navigate an establishment like this. For all that Fang Duobing never seemed to grow close to them, women still have a better chance at turning his head. Or at least of him being able to convincingly pretend as such.)

    (Only a single instance of life and death could draw that act out of Di Feisheng. He would, to the point of being poisoned instead, rather not relive that again.)

    "Gongzi, wouldn't you like to come inside and warm up?" the girl at the top of the steps calls, presumably to him. "I'd hate for you to catch cold. Winter will be here soon, you know." Di Feisheng closes his eyes, and bites back clipped words, about how he's faced things far worse than autumn wind. Even while making a quiet joke of himself lurking outside a brothel. What's taking Fang Duobing so long?

    From behind him comes the gentle clink of stone jewelry, soft, light footfalls along the ground toward him, and it seems this time Di Feisheng can't use mishearing the girl as an excuse. What can he think of to say, as a soft rejection, between this moment and the one when she'll approach him? Too late, that instant approaches; Di Feisheng turns, readies something (nothing) on his tongue—

    And it's Fang Duobing who's there, a whirlwind in the next breath, grip like iron landing on Di Feisheng's forearm. "A-Fei," he says, half-breathless, eyes wide in the dawning dark like he's seen a ghost. Before Di Feisheng can form a single sentence he's being hauled up the steps, past the startled form of the girl, stumbling after Fang Duobing by instinct.

    "What are you doing?" he manages to get out, stopping before he's pulled through the doors. Only years of balancing in far more precarious situations keeps Di Feisheng from tripping over the threshold. The sign above declares this place the House of Scarlet Delights, in well-kept paint. He glares at Fang Duobing, trying to shove the boy's arm off of him.

    "A-Fei," Fang Duobing says, again, more insistently and this time tinged with the inflection of every bit the heir to a wealthy estate, one that signifies he expects to be listened to. Because he seems to have forgotten any other way to communicate, apparently.

    Di Feisheng, for his part, had forgotten that Fang Duobing is comparable to himself in stature and strength, and so it only takes one off-guard yank with renewed vigor for him to nearly fall forward through the doorway.

    The noise of laughter and music crashes over Di Feisheng, from a gentle ebb outside to being struck by a wave. Everywhere in this place is colour, in clothes, lights, art and hangings along the walls, but none of it is of interest to himself. Nor to Fang Duobing, who pulls him through scattered groups of other customers as soon as Di Feisheng is steady on his arm, without time for surprise to settle. His grasp slides down Di Feisheng's wrist, then laced with his hand, in his hasty steps a pace ahead.

    Later, Di Feisheng won't be sure if it is the people around him who part in his path, or whether it is the first caught sight that urges him forward without thought through everyone else, until he stands before a low dais at the opposite end of the hall. And there, a slim figure kneeling with a flute in his hands, jade-green and vaguely familiar, is... is....

    "It's him," Fang Duobing says, faraway sound like Di Feisheng is underwater along with the rest of the room, and he doesn't need Fang Duobing to state the obvious, anyway. Not when Di Feisheng would know the set of those shoulders, the wear of the hands that wield the flute like they once did a sword, anywhere, draped in black and green silk though they are. Not when he would be able to recall the amused smile of his eyes, and the shape of his mouth when it held some unasked-for remark, even if he were without his memories, and knows for a fact that he did once. The unfamiliar rouge touched to his lips, the fall of his hair, snow-white like the morning after a winter storm, could never distort any of that.

    The musician tilts his head, a charming performance calculated, and at his sight brushing across Di Feisheng's, time seems to freeze.

    All that's left in the world is Di Feisheng, and Fang Duobing's hand a lifeline aligned with his own, and relief-joy-relinquished grief all at once, at someone who is dead twice and somehow alive before him again.

    Li Xiangy— Li Lianhua, Di Feisheng tries to speak, or whichever one it is. No sound works its way from his throat.

    The figure kneeling before him glances forward, gaze falling level with Di Feisheng's own, holding him there. Fox to prey.

    There is nothing, in this moment, he truly needs to say at all.

[zykamiliah]

Hey, sorry to bother you, but I've been seeing something in the fandom that kind of confuses me, so I'm leaving this ask to my favorite svsss blogs.

I've been trying to get more into Shen Jiu's character, as he is pretty interesting and arguably a fan favorite, and I've noticed that, so far of the fanfics I've read, he is more often than not depicted as a good teacher. A harsh one, but still good? Or not terrible?

One that likes teaching, is involved with his students, taking the little of what we've seen of Shen Yuan's teaching methods and just, giving them a twist, "improving" them even sometimes.

Often it ends up being a show of how Shen Yuan was clumsy, not that good of a teacher (or of a Shen Qingqiu) and I'm... Kind of confused by this trend? Like, is it rooted in canon? Obviously this is still more interesting to read than the "SJ is just a tsundere that never did anything wrong ever" thing, but it feels kind of similar.

I cannot imagine a character as genuinely bitter and angry as Shen Jiu enjoying being a teacher, having a nurturing bone in his body or even being hands on in the teaching of his disciples, several of which he literally bullied out of his peak. But maybe it's just me and I'm wrong?

Was Shen Jiu a good teacher?

I guess I'm just curious of where it comes from. I like Shen Yuan's character, and it often feels like people take Shen Jiu's to show how bad at everything SY is, even if it isn't consistent with SJ's character and often lack nuances, in my opinion.

(Or even if the story claims loving SY while also stripping him away of everything that makes him interesting other than his obliviousness, but that's a whole other thing.)

Sorry again, and I also apologize for the long ask, I'd just figured you or someone that follows you might have an answer.

(Also, I get that fandoms gotta fandom, and I'm not saying people shouldn't write it or anything, I may be a strickler for canon but I'm not the police. Write what you want. I just wonder where it comes from, as I figure that knowing its origins might help me in the future, but I promise I'm not trying to start discourse or anything, so I hope I've made my point clear enough without offending anyone.)

hello!! :DD

well sj being ooc in fics is a common thing by now. people tend to portray him softer than he's in canon, to the point it sometimes turns his whole character upside down. in extreme cases, you'll be dealing with a bitter, more tsundere version of sy with sj's backstory, which is secretly what many people want IMO lol often this people also perceive sy as an incompetent dumb nerd that only knows about monster lore and has no other skills or abilities aside from that-- essentially, they fall for the unreliable narrator's trap of believing every lie he tells about himself.

it's never outright stated, but sj didn't like children, so is fair to assume he didn't like teaching or caring for them either. taking into account qing jing peak's toxic atmosphere pre sy's transmigration, AND the fact that sj was paranoid about being overthrown since he hadn't developed a golden core even after becoming a peak lord and taking lbh in, I don't think he'd be interested in teaching anyone anything. in a lot of cultivation novels, disciples are just given manuals and left to self-study them (like he let lbh use the fake manual, expecting lbh would die from using it. haha. such a good teacher!). this could be the case. aside from that, I don't personally think sj would want to provide any kid guidance. and that's not mentioning how he allowed and enabled bullying, targeted talented disciples, and overall was more worried about his own cultivation and survival and reputation than other things or people.

so where this fanon sj comes from? I'm not sure, really, but I think some people just want a version of him that's palatable AND defensible, like my friend furby says, a declawed sj that's just a poor misunderstood meowmeow who deep inside is secretly good and nice. it's a thing that people who struggle with liking "villainous" or "morally bad" characters do: twisting the narrative around to justify this character's actions. It doesn't help that he's SO complicated, and people who have very black-and-white thinking struggle to place him in either side of the spectrum-- it's the problem mxtx outlined through sqh and sqq's voices

ch.14 house arrest

ch.19 shen jiu

really, the fandom has just proved mxtx's point xD

anyway, there's a lot of misconceptions about sj. there are some pretty wild theories around. some fans also treat his abuse as The Worst Abuse in comparison to the Child Abuse he did, because of the (unconfirmed) hints that sj was sexually assaulted by qiu jianluo, as if SA is the worst kind of abuse and child abuse falls back on the tier-list ¯_(ツ)_/¯ because obviously anything that involves sex in inherently worse, apparently

in other cases, people are simply more familiar with the fanon version of the characters, and that's who they portray in their writing. after all, many people read the novel once and then go on to read dozen of fics; it's normal the fanon sticks more on the brain than canon (not judging! it happens to me as well lol) and those fanon versions are more popular because, as i said, this version of sj is more morally palatable (and bland and less fun ┐(︶▽︶)┌)

thank you for the ask!! :DDDD ❤️❤️❤️ i love receiving asks~

[sarucane]

How did Stede leave pirating so easily?

So in the space of 2 episodes, Stede goes from being "the motherfucking man" to an innkeeper, and there's really not *much* in between there--all his scenes are primarily about other characters in the finale. So I wanted to rant about what I think fills in this gap.

Why did Stede become a pirate in the first place? Well, because he wanted to be a "real boy." He wanted to have a life that felt like his own, a life that wasn't swaddled in comfort (completely, at least). He wanted to break the monotony, the despair of a life without room for deep emotions or agency. And he became a certain kind of pirate because he wanted to be someone important and good in the lives of others, not just a marginal figure.

But why did Stede become a pirate the second time?

Ed.

Sure, there were other reasons: he didn't belong with his family anymore, didn't fit in his old life, and trying to have his cake (having run away) and eat it too (coming back) was just hurting everyone. He changed, and they changed, and a foundational truth of this show is that you can't change back.

But the reason he didn't belong with his family anymore was that he had gotten his original wish. He'd become a "real boy," someone who felt things deeply, who didn't need to keep one foot in his old life by hanging onto his wealth. He'd become important and valued in the lives of his crew, which they demonstrated when Chauncy challenged his right to the Act of Grace

But the moment Stede crosses the line forever between his old life and his new one is when he tells Mary "his name is Ed."

When Stede leaves, he falls in with the marooned crew--but he spends more time pining for Ed then talking to them. There's a place for him with his crew, and he fits in it, and we see in E5-6 that he cares deeply about doing right by them.

But neither Ed nor Stede fully fit into the crew when everyone's back together. Ed's caught up in his own self-reckoning, and Stede's splitting attention between the crew and Ed. In a way, they've outgrown Stede: they no longer need his help to enable the community on the ship. They've reached a point where they can deal with the conflicts in E4 by themselves, can absorb Archie and then Izzy and give both of them space to relax and integrate. They like having Stede as captain, but they don't need him anymore. In E7, Stede takes Olu leaving as a betrayal, but even that goes back to Stede being more focused on Ed than on the crew, and acting out over hurt feelings from a fight.

The only thing left that Stede can only get through piracy is the lure of fame. And that's a real perk--Stede genuinely enjoys his taste of infamy in E7. It's fun, it's a fulfillment of a childhood dream.

But it's also hollow, and it's a trap. It's hollow because Bill isn't Stede's real friend, and the loss of Steak Knife wasn't worth Stede dying by challenging Zheng (nor was Stede's ego worth Steaky's death, but that's another thing). And it's a trap because Stede really is a terrible pirate. Stede has to deal with the pirate world without Ed three times during the show. The first time, the Spanish almost kill him; the second time, Spanish Jackie almost maims him; the third time, he challenges Zheng to a duel and refuses to back down, then tries to "ambush" British officers who kick his butt. Stede's fantastic when he stays in his lane of nontraditional piracy, but if he became a really successful traditionally infamous pirate, he'd no longer be Stede.

So Stede doesn't need the infamy of success as a pirate, any more than he needs is pretty clothes (though he likes both). Stede doesn't need to stay a pirate to keep his relationship with the crew, and they don't need him either. Stede doesn't need to go out and be a pirate to feel real things, or think he's "adequate" enough for his father.

But Stede does need to give his relationship with Ed a real chance, to be what they want it to be. And Ed just cannot be a pirate anymore--there's too much damage and pain. Plus, living on the ship, their lives in danger all the time, heightening everything, pushing their actions out of their control. Their relationship was crushed under that pressure in S2, and it's still a pretty fragile thing. They need space and time. And by leaving the ship, they can have it.

For Stede, piracy meant belonging, love, and fulfillment.

He has those things now: He's got Ed. He doesn't need piracy anymore.

[dotster001]

HCs for Ace, Deuce, and Epel with a reader like Toa Qelsum from Court of Darkness? I just think the chaos that will ensue with another uptight mf would be fun to read about

CW:Mentions of raising a family in Epel's part

3k followers event Masterlist

Other Versions: Rio Voleri Reader Dia Akedia Reader Lance Ira Reader-coming soon

God, you're such a stick in the mud. A high achiever, smart, and a strict rule follower? Barf. He's so happy that you were busy doing your…teleportation trick or whatever when he was hiding at the entrance ceremony cause he knows you would have ratted him out. He has no doubt you would've been sorted into Heartslaybul…for all the "wrong" reasons.

That said…there's something intriguing about the look behind your eyes. A look that screams, "I want to have fun! But no one has ever let me!" And Ace decides he's going to save you. By being the one to break you.

The rest of in game events proceed as normal, cause Ace will always be Ace. He still is an ass, he still causes trouble, he still makes you his best friend, still drops cryptic lines like "who knew you'd be my type, kidding ha ha!"

Is there any world, any mc, any Y/N, where Ace wouldn't fall for you? Be honest.

It's a "when did we start dating? Who the fuck knows they never even asked me out" kind of thing.

He's trying to break you so hard man. He's the devil in your ear, whispering about how wouldn't it just be…so fun if you stole that last slice of strawberry tart that Riddle thought he'd safely hidden in the freezer. He brings out the absolute worst in you…but sometimes you bring out the best in him.

You're the honors student he's always wanted to be. You really get your connection when he asks you to start tutoring him. You're hard on him, but it only makes him strive to do better! He doesn't want to let his favorite teacher down!

Ace teases him for months about how he's such a simp for you, and gets all blushy anytime you tell him he did a good job. Deuce tells him to shut his fucking mouth every single time. Until one fateful day. The words are on the tip of his tongue, but they don't come forward. Instead, his mind is filled with thoughts of you, your big brain, your soft smile. He reflects on his best friend and favorite teacher. And then it's all over for poor Deuce.

Naturally he does the honors student thing. He avoids you. He's terrible at it, but he does his best. Until one day, you show up and berate him for neglecting his responsibilities, and your friendship. In the midst of it, he goes delinquent mode, and angrily confesses his love. At your shock, he apologizes and is sweet again. And how can you say no to sweet Deuce?

Deuce becomes much more of a snuggle bug when you're dating. You still tutor him, but now reward him with kisses when he gets answers right, and makeout and cuddle sessions when his grades improve. 

Under your tutelage, he makes the dean's list. And ends school as an honors student, just as he dreamed. His mom couldn't love you any more.

You and Vil seem to have some sort of unspoken feud. Epel is living for it. Neither of you is ever outright hostile to the other, but the vibes…oof. It's like two very dominant personalities who should never have been left to try and work together. Epel is mad for you.

Lures you in with apple crumble 😉 

Once you're hooked onto him through your sweet tooth, he is able to express his admiration for you. He also has a dominant personality. But for you, he's willing to chill out a little. 

He's such an enabler. Oh sevens, anytime something about Vil pisses you off, he pushes you a step further. Sometimes, If Vil says something that hurts his pride a little bit, he'll stretch the truth, just to watch you go off on him. Sevens, he loves it. He can't help but feel so protected.

He takes you to visit his family with him…and is devastated when you're shocked by how kind and loving his family is. You deserve that love too! Meemaw unofficially adopts you as an extra grandkid, and makes sure that you get all the loving you have missed out on. Epel hopes you can trust him enough to have a family of your own one day, even if it is a small one.

[violet-moonstone]

thinking about how teenage dagur was sent to outcast prison for years despite doing the the same things the outcasts themselves were doing

and while yes, we all love dragons because we saw httyd 1 and we know how loveable they can be, dagur really has no reason to think of them as anything other than monsters to hunt, nor does he have a reason to trust berk for allying with dragons

and how he was basically a kid with no structure in his life, trying to prove himself as a leader, surrounded by yes men who enabled his terrible behaviour

and how prison only made him a worse person, and if he had been sentenced to something else instead - like helping to repair communities he'd harmed or take care of dragons, he probably could have had a redemption arc a lot sooner. he had no strong emotional bonds in his life and i think continually engaging in empathy would have made a difference.

don't get me wrong, I love villain dagur in race to the edge

but also...alvin, a mentally stable grown man, gets let off the hook for changing his mind at the last moment

and dagur, clearly an unstable kid in need of help, is thrown into a dungeon for shit the adults in his life took part in

also yes, I know this show takes place in a time before things like therapy but restorative justice is not a modern invention and there are examples of cultures in history using that instead of just execution or imprisonment

anyway

yeah...ive been thinking about dagur a lot recently, if that's not abundantly obvious

[lady-loveluck]

unfortunately my brainworms reside in peter spankoffski, so here are some little headcanons!!

sfw

- he's not cis. i don't imagine him as a trans guy, though, i think that stephanie did his makeup or put him in a skirt or something one time and it activated his brain a little bit too much to be normal.

- oral fixation. he. bites. EVERYTHING. he didn't fully stop using a pacifier until he was almost nine years old, and that was just because ted kept enabling him to avoid peter gnawing on him like a chew toy. his nails are destroyed, his lips are shredded, and he somehow still insists that he doesn't need anything to help with it.

- blatant autism mention. he has a special interest in chemistry and astronomy, and fixations on lego, star trek, pokemon, and spiderman, among many others.

- he's got TERRIBLE vision. yeah, he wears glasses, but he NEEDS those things. his vision is fucked. he one time lost his glasses before a hangout and ruth and richie basically had to be his eyes, he couldn't read a single sign and nearly tripped on cracks in the sidewalk a million times. terrible experience for him, hilarious experience for ruth and richie.

nsfw....

- bottom. for the most part, at least. he could maybe top if he really wanted, but he defaults to bottoming pretty easy.

- praise kink. he has an INSANE praise kink. call him a good boy? he's drooling. call him pretty? he just came. it will possibly make him cry after, though. what bullying does to a loser. also body worship because he is horribly insecure and he deserves it as a treat.

- honestly??? he's a freak. he'd be into some weird shit! he'd piss his pants and cum from it for sure. he'd absolutely let stephanie spit in his mouth. if she smacked his ass while pegging him, he'd probably cum so hard he passes out. freaky guy.

- also he'd like wearing a skirt during sex. i don't care what anyone says. he'd like being feminized and having stephanie run a hand through his hair while calling him a pretty girl. which would also maybe add to the not cis thing.

-👅

Sharing this for the Pete enjoyers uwu love these hcs!

[prismbearer]

Okay i was looking at some tags and saw yours regarding how Raphael knew to make the hammer. We're never given a timeline so it's unclear when he made it BUT in regards to how he knew about Orpheus I had a theory that's becoming more and more sound the more I think about it.

Raphael knew about the Emperor since the very start. He's showcased this when he first meets you and mentions the tadpole in your head (he's not just referring to the literal tadpole in your brain). We know he knows about the existence of the Emperor because when we meet him at Sharess' Caress, he straight up shuts us off from the Emperor. I think it's one of those things that subtly hints how powerful the likes of beings like Raphael are. And of course this means he knew about Orpheus.

Now, we've seen Raphael literally just pop into the Astral Prism on a whim after you betray the Emperor and if you didn't take his deal in Sharess' Caress or steal his hammer (not killing him essentially). So the question is "why couldn't he have just done all this himself, why bother with us if he is that powerful?"

Because the Emperor was there.

That's why he pops in the MOMENT the Emperor physically leaves that realm. The Emperor is his biggest enemy in regards to influencing you (they're both essentially opposite sides of the same coin. Both manipulate you, both want you on their side, you're super crucial to their ultimate goal/freedom. The Emperor wants to be ultimately free from the influence of the Netherbrain, Raphael wants to become the ultimate Archdevil because the one with the most power in the Hells has ultimate freedom). That's why he immediately shuts him off the moment you step foot in his room at Sharess' Caress, why every time you being up the Emperor, Raphael gets hella annoyed/very serious (and it vice versa for the Emperor, warning you adamantly not to go into the Hells because of your safety AND because his influence cannot each you there). Raphael always knew that Orpheus was there, he just couldn't risk it while the Emperor was there as he's not only an illithid but a pretty powerful one. Raphael's diaries showcased how he genuinely feared the presence and plague of the illithids and Korilla tells you that illithids "make terrible clients" (basically non of Raphael's infernal tricks can do much because they're already of a hive mind. The Emperor, not under any influence just showcases that he's MUCH more powerful and a threat than any regular illithid). Can you imagine what it would be like to have Raphael and the Emperor in a scene together? That would be amazing!

Sorry if this got incoherent. Am writing on a phone in a car rn 😂

🥺 Thank you for enabling me! I haven't had a chance to rant about Raphael and the House of Hope for a while... (AlSO I love your Raphael gifs, bless. 💞✨) I am also working but I can't resist the reply so. Messy.

The Hammer and the timeline is something I am honestly SO CURIOUS about. We know that Raphael had dreams about the impending illithid debacle, but not necessarily when... I suppose those dreams could have occurred early enough for Raphael to investigate the truth and then come up with a plan to assist with the process.

However, the very concept of Raphael dreaming about this potentially universe altering shift as a warning is so intriguing. Did this come about under divine influence? Was it because of some sort of artifact or attachment Raphael has with an ability to precognition? I imagine something like divining or altering aspects of the future would appeal to him, but it seems TOO BIG a thing to leave unmentioned behind the scenes. (Unless it was meant to be revealed with additional content, a form of excuse or method he might survive Mephistopheles. But I believe there's no intended additional content as of release so... unlikely?)

I'm assuming Raphael investigated the illithid and the Absolute and knew what Gortash was up to. He'd probably have kept tabs on him even after he "escaped". That is also curious to me, the fact that Raphael would not try to retrieve him as an asset-- since he would see the loss of any asset as an affront to his power and pride... I'm assuming they probably had some sort of deal that if Gortash left the House of Hope he'd be free, and so Raphael kept him prisoner literally thereafter? Give me backstory Larian, pls.

Perhaps the dreams were not as dramatic as Raphael presented them. Maybe they were normal dreams if he was already keeping up with the plan for the absolute and trying to figure out how to use the situation to his advantage. If he was already aware of their plans, not insane to think with his discomfort at the concept he'd essentially have nightmares when the whole scenario puts his dreams at risk. Also I'm sure the idea of an escaped asset winning his dream artifact (crown that makes you a god) would make him feel sick and furious enough to have nightmares... (do all devils dream or is that just like, a side effect of him being a cambion?)

As for the Emperor, I'm assuming you're right and Raphael was aware of the Emperor early on through those plans. Feasibly as early as the gate before the Emperor was sent to retrieve the prism? I'm iffy on how long it might take to build a hammer like that, or where Raphael got the knowledge to do so however. (Note to self, look up passage of time in the hells?? Is it linear to the prime material, or does it vary like the feywilds?)

I do wish there was more direct interaction, since as you said the two are almost different options for the same endgame. Raphael goes all cards in assuming that Tav & Co would never choose an illithid over a charming devil like himself. He suggests the "devil you know" and then goes out of his way to be more forthright and theoretically trustworthy than the Emperor who is constantly trying to keep you out of his business and focused on what he wants. Instead, Raphael invites you to his home, makes you familiar with his nature immediately. He doesn't even demand your soul for the Hammer.

Tbh the scene where he cuts off the Emperor with a snap was fascinating to me, an absolute turning point for my Tav for their relationship with the Emperor. I thought it was haunting and a reality check as to how deep they are in these machinations, between these powerful entities, just by being in the wrong place at the right time.

They're both fascinating and the same in the worst ways (depending on perspective IG) but also so different. I have a lot of feelings about the Emperor too actually! They're so fun. But yeah 100% you are right. Though I think Raphael would also hate illithid because they'd be a terrible audience. Would the Emperor appreciate his little songs and scripted plays? No. And given the nature of illithid devils have almost no reason to deal with them, unless it was strategic maybe. Theoretically, there's not a soul to be had?

I think Raphael would be annoyed trying to script encounters with the Emperor, and that whole presentation and structure is important for him. It's where he gets his confidence and sense of control, which is why he is also furious if you break your role and betray the plot of his plans. There are different paths to dealing with him and Raphael plans those encounters, but if you disrespect him by stealing the hammer he is offering so generously (for a devil) he is Done. Just like the Emperor is also very Order oriented and seeing Tav and Co as assets tbh.

I'm personally of the mind that the Emperor was the illithid that infected you and the party during/just before the attack on the nautiloid. He knew the gith would follow and he needed new "thralls" or agents to do the work he could not when he needed to keep Orpheus and also cannot truly navigate the open world as an illithid. I've seen arguments against this of course, but I don't see the Emperor as Good or Evil. The Emperor is ultimately selfish, even though he himself would rebel from the nature of the hive mind, he still looks down on those who are not evolved (non-illithids). He sees himself as even greater than other illithids, given his personal power and history and the fact that he managed to escape the elder brain. I think the Emperor turning the group Makes Sense. It doesn't change the fact that it did protect you and guide you back to the Gate... but above all things the Emperor just wants you to be good agents and do what he plans so the brain is destroyed. Not accounting for his personal curiosity at how you advance with these altered tadpoles and how different from him yet the same you can become.

Personally I think the Emperor is fascinating and his writing is good. Its interesting that the Emperor is as flexible as the player. He responds to you based off what would please or position you the way he wants. He sort of acts like the player character in that to him you're the companion and he is doing what it takes to get your Approval. And if he can't have your approval, he will struggle for your obedience. (Or so he says.) They're very similar but different.

I hadn't considered that Raphael could handle retrieving the crown himself by trying to free Orpheus on his lonesome just because... game structure tbh haha, but that's a valid point. Feasibly, you could consider that Raphael could use the hammer himself to free Orpheus... (Or send some hired entities or assets...)-- the gith have made deals with Devils before etc. And Orpheus will cooperate to keep the illithid threat at bay. However, Raphael is so theatrical I think he'd see narrative dissonance in such a choice for himself as well. The whole structure of the wayward heroes crowning him after they save the universe etc is in his wet dreams. But I can also see that considering the Emperor... it is probably smarter than Raphael, though perhaps less cunning in terms of creative plotting. They're two "masterminds", and Raphael might have feared crossing threads directly. While the Emperor killing him might just send him back to the hells.... I'm not sure if that weakens devils or if they lose anything in that exchange? Regardless I'm sure Raphael would rather avoid death, and the Emperor would probably gun for his death if at all possible given how furious it gets about Raphael's involvement.