#but then he like found out the deity that was his entire life was lying to him and that he hurt people

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

It's hard being someone who does genuinely get infuriated with Ford's actions and acknowledges a lot of his flaws and the people he hurt, while also liking (and relating) to his character enough that I would like him to have nice things sometimes and don't believe he's satan

[futureplayboibunnie]

Aphrodesiacs Pt. 9

Miguel O’Hara x fem!spidey reader 

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

horny and angsty? yes pls.

NSFW. 18+.

Miguel wasn't lying

He didn't let you leave your apartment for the entire weekend.

You definitely weren't complaining but he wore you out tirelessly for hours on end. He fucked you on every surface, christening each space for his own personal fulfiliment. He bent you over, pressed your knees together, threw you to the floor, sank to his knees- he did everything.

"Tell me you're mine. Scream it for me.”

“Always. I always have been.”

The way you said that stuck with Miguel a lot longer than he was expecting or comfortable with, it rolled off of your sweet tongue with an unbridled ease, like you were meant to say it.

“I always have been.” Miguel frowned as his brain placed further emphasis on what you said.

It started on Friday night and now it's Sunday night, he was half expecting you to kick him out but he was still here...lying in bed with you after an entire weekend of fucking each other senseless. It was the most soul-replenishing and fulfilling weekend he'd ever had. The night was starless, grey, and bleak clouds hung over the sky as if to reflect his mood, straying by the second, the rain flooded and pounded against the curtainless window and his senses. As he glanced over your frame, he saw the New York city skyline bean up yellow and red lights. The rumbling of thunder and the flashes of lightning stopped his thoughts in their tracks as he felt the soft inhale of your breath. Your naked body pressed into the mattress, the white sheets covering you in slivers.

Even when you were sleeping you looked so effortlessly beautiful. Miguel glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table, it was 2 AM. It was Monday tomorrow. That's when reality set in. His work, the pressure of his job, to control that many people and make sure the multiverse was safe. Miguel frowned at the thought. He wanted to spend the rest of his nights here with you, lying in bed with you and watching you breathe. But he loves being Spiderman, he was attached to what he had to do even if he didn't like it, he was so conditioned to doing his job he never once considered what a normal life could be like after what Gabriella- then you came along, destroying any semblance of peace he had left. You mumbled something unintelligible as you sprawled out even further. Your slender hands slid under the pillow, he kept staring at you like a lovesick fool, filled to the brim with anxiety and desperation as he quietly brooded. He felt like you caught him when he saw your eyelashes flutter. A lazy smile played on your lips. You definitely caught him.

“Go to sleep.” You muttered like you were scolding a small child, opening your eyes fully to see Miguel solemn and brooding.

“Can't.” He clipped, raking a hand through his already messy hair. Your mood changed exactly as he did, you flashed him a concerned look. Miguel always found a way to sabotage himself, to find the bad in every spot he was in and you were tired of it. You leaned down on your elbows, pursing your lips in confusion.

“Talk to me.” You say gently but all Miguel could hear was a sensual deity whispering sweet nothing.

Miguel was conflicted, a surge of sadness washed over and tightened his chest but he was very determined not to show it, his eyebrows creased in determination. Trying hard to keep the front he's manufactured over the course of many brutal and unforgiving years, being cold and distant was the only thing he knew to be even if it was you that was trying to pry it out of him. He couldn't just change overnight, not for you, not for anyone but part of him wanted to be better, to be better for you. Miguel's jaw ticked as he mumbled, attempting to conceal the fact that he wasn't particularly in a talkative mood- but you were nothing but persistent.

“Please?” Your hand went to reach out and lay on his chest but he stopped you before you could even touch him, he gripped your wrist and stared at you, his demeanor drastically changing. His grip was tightening and your eyes widened slightly, confused and concerned.

“Don't.” He said softly but stern enough that you got the message, his eyes were gleaming with a faint hue of red. You cocked an eyebrow at his behavior, after an unforgettable weekend, he was acting like you were a stranger- like all your use to him was sex, He was going to treat you like crap when you got to your normal life again. You frowned at the thought as you snatched your wrist back.

“What happens now?” You whisper woefully, a sad look ashening your beautiful face- the moonlight kissed your features perfectly.

"We go back to strangers, hating each other?” You say bitterly.

“What? No.” He shot you a look mixed with confusion and anger as if what you said was stupid.

“So we don't hate each other anymore, we fucked and we're gonna go back to work and act like nothing happened?”

“'I just- I don't know.” His answer didn't dampen your straying frustration at him, you pursed your lips in anger. mere idea.

“This was a one-time thing? So I'm just gonna go back to fucking other guys?” You raised an eyebrow at him, slightly peeved at the idea.

Miguel was internally devastated that you even thought to mention that, his body stilled with rage at the image of someone else touching you the way he did. It was as if his heart was being strangled by your bare aching fists. He wanted to grab you, flip you over and fuck you until his hips fracture but instead, he stayed brooding in silence, a storm brewing in his head.

Miguel's hand shot out and grabbed your cheeks, squishing them together as his talons dug into your skin slightly, you gave him an unimpressed look as he pulled your body closer to his. “No.” He said harshly, completely dismissing the idea of you going out and hooking up with other people like he had that sort of power over you. “Absolutely not.” Although you were pissed at him right now, your body was feeling entirely different, your pussy throbbed. You adjusted yourself, trying to stifle your arousal but it got ten times worse when your nipples brushed and hardened at the slightest contact of the mattress. Miguel was psychoanalyzing your every move, his gaze didn't soften at all, He liked that you were still in heat, even more so when you were trying to suppress it. You were confused when you saw him get up from the bed and then sit at the foot of it, his back facing you, looking more and more pissed with every passing moment.

"Come here.” he turned his head a fraction, enough for you to see slivers of red in his eye.

"Are you kidding?” You scoffed.

“Do I look like I'm asking?” His voice was mean and cold, a ruthless sharp vibration in your ears. Your body ached at the sound of his voice alone.

You were still bitter as you crossed your arms defensively. You rolled your eyes at him and decided to give into his unexplained whims, you got out of the bed with a huff and walked around it, Your naked body gleamed in the moonlight as you stood in front of him, Miguel's eyes were steely and din, unamused by your constant disrespect, asking the questions he didn't want to think about let alone answer, He hated that you brought up the idea of fucking other people and he hated the way he felt about it. This weekend was pleasure and pain combined- he made you feel euphoric, keeping you at that edge and then pummelling you. It was pain but it was perfect pain. Now you were pissing him off and he wasn't in the mood to be delicate and easy. He wouldn't give you the courtesy of telling you what he was going to do to you, he just wanted to do it.

You bit your lip as you stared down at him, he looked up at you like you were a dirty little whore acting unattainable- how ironic.

Miguel's palms traced over the dip of your waist softly and you pursed your lips slightly, acting unbothered. He hated it. we wanted to shock you, his right hand spanked your ass harshly, the sound ripped through the air and you gasped. You were his helpless little whore. Instead of talking about his feelings, he was gonna fuck it out of himself instead.

“Turn around and sit on my lap.” He demanded coldly, the look in his eyes was one of silent fury, His face sere slashes of rough arousal and boiling anger, Your eyes went from half-lidded annoyance to a bewildered shock, he liked it. you unhinged your jaw to say a smartass remark but he raised his eyebrow and that subdued you immediately, you turned your back to him and sat on his lap.

Your back facing his front, your ass nudging his already hard cock. Before you could even properly adjust, he hooked his hands under your thighs and pulled them up, your legs dangling off of his arms. a breathy moan escaped from your throat and Miguel's lips were pressed against your ear.

“I'm going to fuck you like this and you're gonna shut up and not bitch to me, understand cariño?” His hot breath landed on your ear, goosebumps rising at the shell of it. You hung your head back and it landed on his broad shoulder, moaning already.

“Yes, I understand.” You breathed softly. Miguel lowered your down on his cock, plunging into you and stretching you out until the his fangs licked and bit at your shoulder blade. “Ah- M-Mig-“ He pummelled into you roughly, bouncing you up and down as his fangs bit your shoulder blade.

“Run that fuckin mouth again, mention any other guy you fucked and I'll bully your cunt until you're fuckin sobbing, get the picture?” He groans raggedly, biting into your shoulder, specks of blood seeping out of your skin as he bounces you up and down.

“O-Okay! I get it...” You stuttered out, moaning like a bitch in heat as he plowed into you even harder, your slick running down your thighs. Your hands flew back and tangled in Miguel's hair, pulling hard and rubbing his neck.

“You're clenching so hard querida...my horny little bunny g'na make a mess on my cock over and over and over again.” He mumbled drunkenly in your ear, the sound of wet skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room. His words shot straight to your aching pussy, sweat dripping down the valley of your tits as Miguel kept manhandling you like a little fuckdoll. The tightening coil in your lower gut snapped as you came, dripping all down his cock and thighs. Throughout this past weekend, Maguel had taken you in any which way but he was way more harsh and pissed this time around. You withstood it all happily. As you clamped down harder Miguel's grip had gotten tighter, bouncing you up and down harder. with that one final thrust and clamp, it didn't take long for him to finish, his hot cum spilling out of you. His groans were your favorite kind of music, it echoed through the chasms of his throat.

But Miguel didn't stop, he kept bouncing you up and down, overstimulating you and fucking you through your Earth-shattering orgasm.

“Miguel- It's spilling out.” You warn meekly but your voice gets lost.

“I don't care. I'll be done with you when I want to be done with you. Now shut up and take it.” He grits between clenched teeth, his jaw setting in anger. He kept going and going, stretching you out, hitting that spot he'd hit so many times in the past two days, spot you never even knew existed before him. You milked him dry and he stilled, sparks lighting under your skin.

Miguel's grip on you softened, letting go of your legs, your feet now settling on the ground, his dick still plugged in you. Both of you were softly panting, your breaths mingling as you leaned your head back on his shoulder, mouth slack and lazy. Both of you were still full of conflicting emotions, but it still wasn't properly released. The passion clouded both of you and it made you feel hazy enough to forget about it during the collision of your bodies, but after as you got a chance to breathe- the thoughts and feelings came back up again. Your hair was wild and messy, your body limp in his arms. Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist as you nested between his legs, he softly kissed the shell of your ear but you weren't buying what he was selling. This sudden act of soft affection after he quite literally fucked you full of anger and pent-up frustration- there was something he wasn't telling you but you were afraid to find out.

An embittered look carved onto your face, and that's when you stood up and got off of him, Miguel raised an eyebrow at what you were doing. Your naked body shimmered as the pale moonlight outside lit you up, you were acting unbothered again and he really fucking hated it. “What are you thinking?” He murmured with restraint, leaning back on his hands.

"Gonna take a shower.” you said softly, but your tone was almost as if you were talking to an acquaintance, not a man you gave your entire body to.

You went into the bathroom of your room, turning the light on and then the shower. Miguel watched you intently as you moved swiftly, closing the door- like you were locking him out. A frown settled on his face. He heard you step into the shower, a faint smell of citrus shampoo traveling through the cracks. Miguel sat with himself for a few minutes and decided that he didn't want to stay here alone. Miguel stood up and opened the bathroom door, steam flowing into the bedroom and circulating at the tips of the ceiling.

The glass casing of the shower made for a perfect view of your slick and wet body. Your hands were doing their work shampooing your hair, your ass looked even more perfect. The soap flowed out of your hair with ease, your fingers squeezing out the excess. you heard a slight shift that made you whip your head around, it was Miguel. “Can I join you?” he says uncharacteristically gently.

“Sure.” You said with a lazy smile. He was pleased that you let him get close to you, he loved being near you any way he could, watching you like a lovesick fool. You looked so natural, so pretty.

Miguel slid open the glass door and stood next to you in the shower, in your element, and for a strange reason Miguel wanted to take care of you. You flashed him a bashful look, throwing your head as a signal for him to get under the stream, he did, letting the water flow to all corners of his body, strands of hair stuck to his forehead, he raked a hand through his hair to slick it back. You were gawking at Miguel, seeing how his muscles tensed under the shower, the water flowing down his abs effortlessly. You blinked up at him dumbly and Miguel caught onto It.

“Mind if I-?” Miguel was acting like a horny teenager, even though he's literally fucked you sideways, in an intimate setting like this- he was nervous. He squeezed some shampoo into his palm and rubbed his hands together, lathering it. You nodded softly, turning your back on him, you were still quite far away though. He didn't like that, Miguel pulled your hair back so you could stumble back a few steps, your ass making contact with his cock. Miguel didn't even let you be surprised about it when he started massaging your scalp. It buzzed your body alive, you hummed appreciatively as his big hands raked through your hair.

“Mmmm...I didn't think you'd ever be domestic.” you say with a raised eyebrow, looking slightly defensive and miguel just huffed.

“I'm not..” His tone was clippy and you didn't like it.

"Yeah..”

You shrug him off and go under the stream, twisting your hair so the soap suds and water drain out of it, you didn't give his the privilege of eye contact. You couldn't deny that you were a little sad that once morning rolled around, he would leave and you would go back to working at HQ, ignoring each other.

-

next chapter is gonna be the last!

-

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(TUMBLR WONT LET ME TAG ANY OTHER PEOPLE UGHH)

[yinyuedijun]

kitsune!suo x fem reader | feudal japan au

��� notes for an au set in feudal japan, featuring supernatural creatures and spirits (e.g., youkai). suo is a kitsune, sakura is a nekomata, and nirei is an onmyouji. → see this post for backstory on the bofurin trio (recommended background reading)

note: most information on kitsune-mochi were sourced from folkorist lafcadio hearn's accounts of traveling in japan (c.1901). I did, of course, also take creative license with some of the lore.

reader | kitsune-mochi (fox-employing witch)

→ as a kitsune-mochi, you are a human who has entered a contract with a fox spirit to care for it in exchange for having it lend you its power and carry out your requests. → in your case, your familiar is suo, a nine-tailed kitsune that lost his hoshi no tama. → most witches employ kitsune for the purpose of carrying out malicious acts, like having the fox spirit possess their enemies, steal the wealth of other people, etc. you, however, rely on suo and his power in order to perform exorcisms and exterminate demons—something that you cannot do on your own because you have no innate spiritual talents yourself.

→ although a convenient source of power, these deals are typically risky for the contract holder. you are expected to care for suo for the rest of your life, and any descendants you might have would be cursed to serve him as well. kitsune-mochi are heavily ostracized by human society as well, so if this relationship of yours were to be discovered, then your entire bloodline would suffer. → additionally, these contracts typically favour the kitsune, as they are the ones who define what it means to be "cared for", and may request dangerous or unreasonable tasks. → fortunately for you, suo is not a very demanding familiar! the most basic act of caring for a fox spirit is feeding it, and he's more or less happy with anything you make, though he especially likes tea, wagashi, or dishes with aburaage. this is more or less all he asks of you! → suo's disposition is generally so patient and gentle that you nearly disbelieved that he was a youkai. you were convinced for a while that he was actually a messenger of god who was lying to you about his identity for some reason. (at the very least, you'd noticed that he had a habit of lying to people generally, though this was an unsurprising trait for a fox and it was usually harmless fun.) → this perception of him was shattered when you saw him fight a youkai that seriously injured you. he spent an uncomfortable amount of time toying with it in a distinctly humiliating fashion before finally putting it out of its misery. it was only in that moment that you realised that you'd signed yourself and all of your descendants up for serving a literal demon 👍

→ warning: immortal/human relationship, immortal deity meets reader as a child but doesn't get to know or grow close to them until they're an adult

your backstory with suo

→ at a very young age, you were adopted and raised by a priestess of an inari shrine belonging to a small mountain village. consequently, you developed a deep respect for the kami and affection for foxes. → as a child, you once found a one-eyed, wild fox in a near-death state. this was suo after he lost his hoshi no tama in a battle with a demon—but to you, he just looked like a regular animal. most people would have let this creature die peacefully, but you were adamant on nursing it back to health. while caring for him, you named him mr. adzuki because of the colour of his fur, which suo finds incredibly funny to this day. → suo disappeared after recovering, never making his true identity known. however, out of gratitude toward you and the priestesses for allowing him refuge, he decided to act as the guardian spirit of the village, protecting it until the end of your life. → conveniently, this meant that suo got to eat all the offerings given to inari's messengers at your shrine, as well as allowing him to gain power from the prayers directed toward him. (inari himself seemed not to mind, as no actual fox messengers showed up to throw hands with suo.)

image: gashadokuro, a youkai made from the skulls of humans who died in battle.

→ although your village was peaceful throughout your childhood due to suo's protection, in your adult years, a violent conflict between humans and demons broke out in your mountain range. this resulted in the destruction of nearly all its towns and the brutal deaths of your fellow villagers. suo, not at full power, was unable to stop this, but made it his goal to save you from the carnage. → after allowing you time to grieve your loved ones, suo—still considering himself indebted to you—asked what you would like to do next. he offered you wealth, status, and other material things, but none of these appealed to you. → recognising that the mountains you grew up in would be plagued by malevolent spirits and demons for centuries after all the bloodshed that just occurred, you asked suo to teach you jujutsu. your goal was to exorcise all the vengeful spirits, exterminate the demons, and purify the mountain range so that its villages could peacefully rebuild. → given your lack of innate spiritual abilities, suo suggested that you make a pact with him and become a kitsune-mochi to acquire powers. not wanting to deceive you, however, he fully explained how dangerous it might be to enter such a relationship, and warned you not to trust fox youkai like himself.

→ nevertheless, you accepted his offer and became a witch.

image: sakura irl

meeting sakura & nirei

→ you and suo thus embark on this crazy mission to purify the entire mountain range. while you are more than capable of exorcisms and exterminations, your spiritual abilities (one of a youkai) do not allow you to purify the land. → but that's okay, because nirei and sakura have been traversing these same mountains to exorcise and hunt demons! being an onmyouji, nirei can perform all kinds of purification rituals. when you inevitably run into the two of them, and suo suggests that you all work together. → nirei is more than happy to help you purify the mountain range (because he is a good-hearted person, and also because he usually gets assignments there anyway). he improves his jujutsu under suo's tutelage, and he gets insights on kitsune that he'd otherwise never learn (it's rare for an onmyouji to meet a kitsune-mochi unless it's to prosecute them for some kind of crime, and it's just plain hard to meet and talk with a nine-tailed fox spirit). → sakura is a harder sell. he doesn't trust suo at all at the start, and he trusts him even less when he finds out that he's a kitsune and has been lying egregiously to him. (sakura and nirei spent an entire month thinking that suo was a traveling tea merchant from china and being fed severe misinformation about the entire country.) → however, sakura is very curious about you, because you're the first human he's ever met who has a mutual and trusting relationship with a demon, which he didn't think was possible beyond weirdos like nirei. → you also aren't afraid of him at all even after seeing his nekomata form, which gives him complicated feelings. he reasons that this is because you've fought too many demons to be afraid of any of them, but the actual truth is just that you find suo incredibly scary, and sakura feels harmless and adorable in comparison </3 → sakura deeply enjoys the act of helping the mountain towns and being accepted by their communities, though he's very shy about admitting it! eventually, he does "resign" to joining you in a long-term arrangement, and the four of you take on the endless mission of exorcising and cleansing the mountain range together. it's a very "monster of the week" type of set-up hehe

→ although the work of purifying the mountain range will likely take the rest of your life (and probably will require generations after you), suo often asks you what you would like to do after the work is complete—so that he can think of ways to grant your request. → you decide not to tell him this, but your wish would be to return to your old village grounds and rebuild the shrine that you grew up in. rather than just inari, you would also dedicate it to the worship of the one-eyed fox spirit that once protected your village.

[animeyanderelover]

Anon meant Zeno from the series/manga Akatsuki No Yona in here.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, clinginess, manipulation, guilt-tripping

Otherwordly goddess s/o

💛​Zeno may fool many but he cannot fool you with his youthful appearance and energetic attitude. There's nothing within the realms of the mortal world that can be hidden from the eyes of a deity. Two can play this game though, you know? It isn't only you who can very easily tell that the entire group centered around the princess is more than the eye meets. The yellow dragon himself can tell that there is something about you, something that is not from this world. Do not forget that he has been wandering across this planet for over 2000 years and whilst this may pale to the lifespan that you have already behind you it gives him an advantage that no other person on this earth possesses. He does not reveal this to you immediately though and neither do you. Both of you seem to arrive at the same conclusion to wait for the right time for secrets like this to be shared. Whilst you might have already seen through him entirely though as a Dragon Warrior and of blood of a deity, Zeno may still need time to figure out the entire picture about you. He would hate to approach you without having all of your cards revealed so until that day he will not spill any secrets.

💛​Time is of little significance for the both of you and it is because there is no number limiting your days on this earth that has gifted the both of you the virtue of patience that no mortal could ever possess. Zeno takes his sweet time with you as he uses this chance to fully get to know you. You fascinate him, a feeling so rare for someone who has already seen so much of what earth has to over. It is this fascination that brings him closer to you as the man with such youthful appearance finds himself clinging to your presence multiple hours a day. You are like a riddle, something that he feels the need to solve as he is of firm belief that the revelation of the truth you do not let him know of will brighten his long life up with a knowledge he does not possess yet and will remind him that there are still things out there that even he does not know of. It's this curiosity and the hoping anticipation that serves as the fuel that slowly feeds the obsession within him. Zeno is anything but oblivious though, he recognises the licking flames of infatuation as something that is about to blow out of control if he doesn't put a lid on it very soon. He decides to not do anything though.

💛​Those feelings may be unhealthy but at the same time they provide him with something to fill an emptiness that couldn't be erased even after he met Yona and the other dragons. The yellow dragon is quite self-assured that he will be able to manage to handle his feelings fine even as he lets them escalate. He has the time to wait after all, the time to be patient. Still, he starts getting a little bit daring in certain situations to test the waters with you. Your wisdom and sharp mind are of no secret to him and those are traits that he absolutely admires about you. Yet it makes it also clear that especially you will not be prone to any subtle manipulation he may attempt and it's his skills to manipulate that he uses to see how far he can go with you. From a very early point on it becomes glaringly obvious that you do not fall for any attempts to be guilt-tripped or fooled and instead of pushing his luck Zeno simply rules the option of lying to you at all out. Still, he enjoys annoying you at times as he doesn't reveal the full knowledge that he possessess to you despite being the only one who knows of it. A part of him just hopes that you will seek him out, spend more time with him so that he may reveal to you what only he knows.

💛​Your identity is strangely comforting to him as soon as everything has been clarified. It's like he has finally found someone who can truly understand the loneliness that comes with a life as long as his and it leads to his heart opening more as he is willing to let you in. A small part has up until this point always been scared of getting burned by the fire he has chosen to play with as a life as fleeting as yours passes in his mind in the blink of an eye. Now that fear is irrelevant though and it allows him to fully trust someone in a way that he hasn't done since he served under King Hiryuu. It's also at this point that he decides to finally approach you and have the conversation that both of you have been expecting since a long time. Perhaps you too will reveal to him slivers of your heart as he is the closest being resembling an immortal deity like you. If you are going to call him out for the obsession that you have taken notice of he isn't even going to deny you. He could if he wanted to but he fears that in the face of a being like you his lies would be a mere wate of breath. Your calm reaction can only stem from the own power you hold, a power which even surpasses his own.

💛​It is a unique twist of fate that Zeno finds himself in a position where he is not one of the most powerful beings in the world but he finds it almost strangely fascinating. How will things turn out now he wonders? The both of you only reveal as much truth as the other during conversations which forces Zeno to be nothing but honest with you so that you may return the favor. The stories that you have to offer fascinate him greatly and he trails closely behind you, hoping to steal you away at night so that the two of you may share stories together once more. His desire is clear to him as soon as you reveal that you indeed are not from this world as he has always felt like you were out of place. After he has protected Yona and fulfilled his destiny one more time he wishes to follow you and to explore a new world with you by his side. Eternity is of no worth if it can't be shared and this is something only you can provide him with. There is little that he has to offer to you though. His greatest challenge arises as it becomes clear that he has to prove himself to you in order for you to take him with him by the end of it. Only you have the ability to save him from this solitude.

[midnightsslut]

the whole cardigan/Peter parallels are messing my head can u explain

okay so peter is actually one of my favorite songs on the album for this reason! I think it has parallels to a lot of other songs, not just cardigan. the first thing to get out of the way is the cardigan lyric about peter and wendy: ‘tried to change the ending, peter losing wendy.’ now, that line doesn’t make a ton of sense because peter losing wendy is the ending of peter pan (idk I’ve never seen it and never thought I’d spend this long thinking about them), but I think what she’s saying is that he tried to change the ending of *their* story to peter losing wendy. peter loses her because she outgrows him, while he remains a ‘lost boy’ forever. the cardigan demo has an alternate lyric where peter actually *leaves* wendy. this does not happen in the original story, and to me, it reads like betty (eh, I don’t think those characters existed when she wrote that song, but bear with me) is accusing him of trying to change their fate by leaving her. peter is meant to always come back to wendy. *she* is the one who eventually leaves him. either way, cardigan ends with them together. yay for betty and/or taylor.

now, peter was written 3-4 years later, and it is the conclusion of a story about outgrowing someone despite truly wanting them back. the ending was not, in fact, changed. she did outgrow him. very sad. I actually want to go lyric by lyric, but I’ll put a cut just in case.

Forgive me Peter

My lost fearless leader

In closets like cedar

Preserved from when we were just kids

Is it something I did

the song starts with taylor trying to figure out what went wrong. did she do something wrong to crush these dreams of theirs? she kept him in a closet of cedar (where unmarried women kept their belongings that they would want to take with them after getting married) in her mind, but things didn’t work out anyway. the first line being ‘forgive me, peter’ indicates that she is the one who pulled the plug, and she’s apologizing for it. again, she isn’t entirely sure what went wrong, which, to me, is a clear parallel to how did it end.

The goddess of timing

Once found us beguiling

She said she was trying

Peter was she lying

My ribs get the feeling she did

when they first met, the timing seemed to be perfect for their relationship (‘the goddess of timing *once* found us beguiling’), but that didn’t last. the goddess of timing claimed that she tried, but nothing could save them. taylor even wonders if she lied, which suggests a lack of faith in higher powers like fate or deities. this verse introduces timing as a major conflict in the story. ‘are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these?’

Said you were gonna grow up

Then you were gonna come find me

Words from the mouths of babes

Promises, oceans deep

But never to keep

peter went away, but he promised to come down once he was ready for a relationship. yes, this kind of applies to both of the main storylines on the album. you could take this to mean that they actually broke up a decade ago but promised to get back together, or you could assume there was some sort of break to their relationship, which she and joe did have. i kind of took it to mean that he wasn’t fully committed to the relationship, but he promised to be eventually. again, the renegade lyric, but also ‘i’m a fire, and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm if your cascade ocean wave blues come’ and ‘I’d hold you as the water rushes in,’ both of which are grand promises that neither party could keep.

Are you still a mind reader?

A natural scene stealer

I've heard great things Peter

But life was always easier on you

Than it was on me

he is charismatic. his magnetic field is a little too strong. he can read people. but he’s also fragile and inexperienced (‘he was a hothouse flower to my outdoorsman’). he may be able to read people, but things have been way too easy for him to ever understand a truly hurt person fully.

And sometimes it gets me

When crossing your jet stream

We both did the best we could do underneath the same moon

In different galaxies

And I didn't want to hang around

We said it was just goodbye for now

this is the thesis statement of their relationship to me. obviously, there’s the call it what you want parallel, but more importantly, it shows that the two people really wanted this to work. they just came from completely different places in their lives and perhaps the entire universe. this verse seems to reference the epilogue (‘resentment rotting away galaxies we created’ / ‘some stars never align’). they learned the right steps to different dances, if you will. she knew he needed time, so she left temporarily.

And I won't confess that I waited

But I let the lamp burn

As the men masqueraded

I hoped you'd return

With your feet on the ground

Tell me all that you'd learned

Cause love's never lost when perspective is earned

she does get with other men, but she keeps longing for him. she wishes that he would return with a grasp on reality and be the man she needs. if anything, the time away would give him the perspective he needs to ground himself. interesting parallel to ���I said I don’t mind / it takes time’ in loml.

And you said you'd come and get me but you were 25

And the shelf life of those fantasies has expired

Lost to the lost boys chapter of your life

Forgive me Peter, please know that I tried

To hold onto the days when you were mine

But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light

this is just devastating to me. well, first of all, both matty and joe were 25 when they first met her, which, lol. the dreams they had together have expired now. it’s been too long. she cannot keep holding onto a love from almost a decade ago. he took too long to return. he lost his lifelong dreams to what was only supposed to be a chapter of his life. she tried to hold onto the days when he was hers, and everything was right, but she had to turn out the light at some point. this is the moment when she gives up on their relationship. she apologizes for abandoning the ship, but she must do it.

overall, I think peter is a story about two people who genuinely did everything they could to be together, but their needs and their growth no longer aligned. there’s a sense of acceptance and lingering fondness here. she did everything she could not to bolt, but the ending was the same.

[utilitycaster]

I’m not sure if you have seen this theory but what’s your thoughts on “the raven queen could be Ludinus’s mother”? I’ve seen it float around on twitter and honestly, to me, it seems a little far fetched.

I have, and I agree with you.

I guess the best way to put it is that there's a lot of theories about Ludinus, and that's extremely valid, but I've found that people are extremely weird about these theories in a way I haven't really seen elswhere.

Personally, I find the idea that Ludinus is lying about most of his past - that he is just a guy from immediately-post-Divergence Issylra who moved to Molaesmyr, destroyed it in an attempt to commune with Ruidus, and established himself as a permanent fixture in the relatively young Dwendalian Empire in order to further his ultimate goals - is by far the most compelling. It feels extremely real for someone with grandiose designs to deliberately invoke an idealized version of the Age of Arcanum that was destroyed; we see this all the time in real life appeals to classical Western antiquity from would-be dictators. I also think he is, in many ways, not sympathetic per se but very...human (well, elven) for being frustrated at having to gather information of this time he believes to be lost and far better than today piecemeal, from whatever scraps remain. I think if he had firsthand knowledge but still took 800 years to figure out what the fuck to do? He's less clever and less heartbreaking and somehow, despite not lying about his age, far more of a windbag.

However, this is just my preference! It's also entirely possible he is from pre-Calamity. And here's where I start to get less generous. Because pre-Calamity? Totally fine. He insinuates that he is. He does so in the same conversation in which he insinuates he is Ruidusborn, which we know he isn't, and it's implied that not many people have caught on to his age (indicating that he probably appeared pretty young when he arrived in Molaesmyr) and since his device appears to have possibly been invented in Molaesmyr my gut feeling is that he was either a child during the final years of Calamity or immediately after. That's just a gut feeling. He easily could be older.

The thing is, literally all we have is "might have been around pre-Calamity" and it feels like people treat two very common specific theories - that he is from Aeor, and that he is the son of the Raven Queen - as fact, when all of the Ludinus theories are purely vibes-based. All we can say with any confidence is "older than he looks, definitively over 500 and almost certainly over an elf's natural lifespan of 750."

Re: The Raven Queen theory, what personally strikes me as far-fetched is that the Raven Queen's original name is lost, but who she was was not lost. She taught Patia. Wouldn't people...know that Ludinus was her child? Like, I suppose the answer can be "Matt didn't want to give spoilers away" but it feels like it raises questions about EXU Calamity that in all the discussion of people interested in ascension, the fact that the Raven Queen had a son doesn't ever once come up. And if he were a secret? That's also a question! And if he were the child of the now forgotten deity of death? What does that mean for him? Wouldn't he be a demigod, probably, of sorts? Can the gods reproduce? Was he the Raven Queen's child with some random guy? It's not that it's not possible, but I feel like boiling his stuff about the gods down to "Mommy issues" is reductive, far less interesting, and it raises more questions than it answers which is always in my mind a sign to steer clear of a theory.

And then there's the Aeor part, which just...I don't actually know where this comes from because if he were the Raven Queen's son it's pretty clear he'd be from Avalir, as she was all but stated to be, but people seem to treat these two things as both true sometimes. I feel Aeor feels far-fetched specifically because I think he'd have been far more able to rebuild Aeorian tech if he was from there. I suppose it's possible he was just a mediocre schmo while Aeor still existed, and has taken on a last survivor, must reclaim the glory of "city that was about to nuke another city simply as a weapon's test" mentality; but also, Aeor expeditions are relatively recent in the timeline of Post-Divergence Exandria. You think this man couldn't have popped up there and taken a leisurely look at the ruin of the Malleus Factorum any time before the past 60-ish years, before Uthodurn started poking around? Why didn't he mention Aeor in his notes in Molaesmyr? Again, more questions are raised than answered, and that casts doubt for me.

So it's hard for me to be objective here just because I find so much of the "Ludinus is pre-Calamity" theorizing to be just...really humorless and brittle and presumptive, and often not terribly interesting. Obviously if we get a definitive answer, and he is the child of the Raven Queen or is Aeorian (if he's both I'm going to roll my eyes because that's just sloppy, Matthew) or even if he was just a guy from pre-Calamity and not terribly important, I'll incorporate that into my understanding! But there's this childish demand that everyone treat what is ultimately an unconfirmed theory as immutable fact. I've seen people act like shitposting about Ludinus is somehow offensive because it violates their personal headcanons, and that's just peak main character behavior on their part. The idea that Ludinus is 800 and deliberately building a cult of personality rooted in the idealization of the Age of Arcanum (while conveniently ignoring that this age was when the Prime Deities -and only the Prime Deities - walked the earth; and that life outside the flying cities was rather less idyllic and wizard-run, and that the titans were still sealed away) is no less valid than the idea that he's 1200 and the son of the Raven Queen and/or from Aeor. All we know for certain is "definitely has been active and accounted for for over 500 years, almost certainly more, is definitely extending his lifespan through eating fey souls."

[chainofhyrule]

Incomparable

If there was only to be one thing in the universe which the deity could wish for, it would be for the gods to strip him of his immortality.

A life in which he is forced to only be able to remember moments like this, never to hold you in his arms again, never to hear your laughter again, or watch as joy creeps into your eyes at the simplest of things again, sounded like torture.

How could the hand of fate be so cruel as to only make you mortal?

He would be lying to himself if he said he tried not to think about your mortality—the constant force of fleeting life which would never release you until you someday died. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t bring his heart to tears at night, when he knew no one would be up.

Oh, how you held him around your finger so easily…so completely. He would face hell if it meant he could fall into your arms afterwards. The sun itself could hold no torch to your radiance, he thinks. Nor could the very essence of the sky itself, or even the stars. If he could, he’d gift them to you. Every star, he thinks, holds a reason why he has fallen so deeply in love with you. Countless dots of lights in the sky to hold his reasons, end yet, even then…there could never be enough stars in the sky for every reason.

He counted them often, on long nights where he relieved his former host of overnight watch shifts. Every last star held a reason. He relayed the rest of his reasons to the moon.

It was never enough.

On nights like tonight, where there was no moon but many stars, he sought out the constellations. Each one held a story.

He was much more fascinated in your stories, though.

He will be the first to admit, he was completely, entirely, devoted to you. No matter what the world may say to try and convince him that his time would be better spent elsewhere…he would return to you. Every single time.

Wind through his hair snapped him from his thoughts, and he found himself looking down at you. You seemed so comfortable here, in his lap, back to his chest as you slept. Your eyelids fluttered to the beat of your dreams. Every so often you let out a soft sound of sleep; each bringing a slight upturn of a smile to his face.

It was early in the night when you’d fallen asleep, having previously been telling the deity of the time you once managed to startle his former host—‘Time,’ he was called now—into a shriek. The soft vibrations of your voice against his chest made him feel warm inside, in ways he was entirely unfamiliar with until he met you. You were quite expressive with your hands, as well. They waved around, making small visual movements as you retold your stories to him, your smile audible in your voice. It was quite cute, he thought.

The blanket you hugged around yourself in slumber had shifted, and, with one arm still around your waist to rub small circles onto your stomach with his thumb, he stretched the other to fix it. He felt eyes on him, but did not mind.

“Is there something I can do for you, young one?”

He did not turn his head towards the group, all of which sat nearby, around the fire. His eyes remained down on you, and he rubbed his hand along your stomach in slow motions. He was rewarded by a soft hum of satisfaction.

“Are they okay?”

The one called ‘Wind’ sounded worried, though it was plain in his voice that he was fighting not to show it. The deity hummed, nodding.

“They will be alright. They are stronger than a simple stomach bug, after all.”

A short chorus of approving sounds found his ears, and the sounds of footsteps followed shortly after. Slow, and heavy.

The Captain.

“I wonder what they dream of when you’ve got them there like that,” he says slowly, gesturing to you. “That’s the most comfortable they’ve looked since this morning.”

The deity did not raise his gaze. Instead, he tilted his head ever so slightly to get a glimpse of your profile. Flushed cheeks, from your fever. Your hair falling into your face, as it had been left alone today due to your fatigue. The slightest pout to your bottom lip, from the discomfort in your belly. The deity felt for you. So, he held you.

That always seemed to lift your mood.

“Are you surprised?”

A beat of silence passed, where nothing was said. When words finally fell into the open space, they were not of the Captain’s, but of the one called ‘Sky.’ His tone was soft, per the usual, but always with the strength of a warrior just under the surface. He could command armies if he so wanted, though the deity doubted he did.

“They love you. It’s not surprising to know that they feel comfortable with you.”

Though it was a simple statement, the deity couldn’t help but revel in the warmth in his chest. Indeed, you did. You had told him this many times. That never stopped the words from making home in his heart.

“You love them, too.”

The voice of his former host startled the deity, though it didn’t show outwardly. His hands both rested over your aching belly, rubbing gently.

“That I do.”

Another long beat passed of silence. The deity didn’t mind, nor would he have minded conversation. All he really cared about was you. Were you too hot? Were you cold? In pain? Thirsty? Tired?

“I’m glad you’ve found happiness, Deity.”

Time’s voice was low, though not begrudging, or bitter. His words sounded and felt genuine in their intent.

“Thank you.”

His eyes flicked up, once, as he spoke. Every one of the boys was looking back at him, or at you. Watching his movements, however small, with interest. He didn’t blame them. There was no doubt his previous host had told them all about him. Perhaps referred to him as a weapon only to be used in the toughest of battles, or the most difficult hardships. He was a war deity, after all. Yet…

He was the only one you felt comfortable enough to sleep against. He was the one who held your heart in his hands, despite them being much bigger than yours. He was the one you coddled, and fawned over on the daily.

He was the one you trusted to rub your belly aches away.

You stirred in his arms, but did not wake. A soft groan spilled from you, and you hugged the blanket tighter around yourself.

So he kissed your head and went back to massaging your belly.

(Tap here to return to Masterlist)

[teine-mallaichte]

hello and welcome to dadwc!! maybe anders and the fantasy angst prompt of "accidentally triggering a magical trap"? uwu

I appear to be torturing Anders tonight... this is very much a part 1 as while writing my brain has come up with a vague plot for what is likely to become along fic once I have time - or perhaps a story through multiple snippets... we'll see Anyway, @dadrunkwriting fic number two - Anders touches something he shouldn't:

Anders treaded cautiously through the labyrinthine corridors of the Black Emporium, a place of ancient enigmas and arcane wonders nestled in the heart of Kirkwall. The air hung heavy with the scent of magic, a heady mixture of incense and the crackling energies that danced within the dimly lit space. Every step he took echoed softly against the walls, as if the very stones whispered secrets to each other in the language of ages past.

His fingers trailed lightly over the cool surface of a peculiar artifact, drawn to its mystical allure. In an instant, a surge of raw magic enveloped him, sending a shiver down his spine as reality itself seemed to warp and twist around him. Momentarily disoriented, Anders stumbled backward, his senses reeling from the sudden onslaught of power.

As the magical haze cleared, Anders found himself in a state of bewildered confusion. He felt neither fully present nor entirely absent, but rather suspended in a liminal state between worlds. His body seemed insubstantial, as if he were made of mist, n that suspended moment between solid and ethereal, Anders's mind raced with panic. The sensation of his body dissipating into mist left him feeling untethered, adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Fear gripped him like icy tendrils, constricting his chest and clouding his thoughts with a primal instinct to flee.

After a few torturous seconds he finally managed to push aside his unease, chiding himself for his brief moment of fear. After all, even Xenon wouldn't simply leave anything too dangerous lying about, would he?

But as he watched Hawke pass through him without so much as a flicker of recognition, panic clawed at Anders' chest. He called out to Hawke, his voice trembling with desperation, but it was as if he were shouting into the void.

Frantically, Anders reached out, his hands grasping for something tangible, anything to anchor him to the physical world. But his fingers passed through objects like wisps of smoke, leaving him feeling more isolated and adrift than ever before. Trapped in this spectral prison, he watched helplessly as familiar faces came and went, oblivious to his presence. Hawke, Varric, Merrill—they moved through the shop with their own concerns, their voices distant and muffled, like echoes from another realm.

With each passing moment, Anders' desperation grew, fueled by the gnawing fear of being forgotten, of fading away into nothingness. Memories of his past flooded his mind, unbidden and unwelcome, dragging him back into the depths of despair. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the memories that threatened to consume him, but they persisted, clawing at his consciousness like hungry specters.

He found himself back in the Circle Tower, confined to a small, dark cell with walls that seemed to close in on him with each passing moment. The weight of isolation bore down on him like a suffocating blanket, crushing his spirit with its relentless grip. Days blurred into nights as Anders languished in his solitary prison, the only company the echoes of his own thoughts bouncing off the cold stone walls.

Meals came and went, pushed through a small flap in the door like offerings to a forgotten deity, the only indication that the outside world still existed beyond his cell. He lost track of time, of days and weeks and months blending together into a seamless tapestry of darkness and despair. All that remained was the silence, the emptiness, the unyielding solitude.

Hawke's voice sounded distant, distorted by the veil that separated them, but it was a lifeline dragging him back to the present. They hadn't forgotten about him, not yet. The realization spurred him on, filling him with a renewed sense of determination.

But as he watched his friends fade from sight, leaving him alone once more, a profound sense of loneliness washed over him like a tidal wave. Surrounded by people, yet utterly alone, Anders could only watch as the world moved on without him, a ghostly observer in a realm of shadows and echoes.

To be continued...

[dayfaresthenight]

Name: Ozymandias

Alt Names: David Crane

Special Titles: The King of Sand and Ash.

Username: TheKingOfSandAndAsh

Nicknames: Ozy, Dad, The King Of Lies

Chronological Age: ???

Age: 42

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Demisexual

Gender: Cis Male

Species: Deity (90%), Human (5%) Spirit (5%)

Disorders: Schizophrenia, Impostor Syndrome, Pathological Lying, Intermittent Explosive Disorder

Religion: Is a god. Kind of.... follows himself.

Job: Theater Director, Writer.

Lives in: Nowhere in particular, earnestly just traveling around.

Languages: American-English, Various Ciphers, Dutch.

Height: 6'2

Race: (Covered by Helmet)

Ethnicity: (Covered by Helmet)

Accent: Thick, Dark, commanding, similar to a military Commander.

Spirit Level: Denial

Powers: Strings, World Creation, Fire Magic, Shapeshifting, Illusions, Cursing, Mind Reading, Mind Control.

Weaknesses: Redacted by Crane. (This, is the one thing I will intervene on.)

Weapons: Midas (Long Greatsword)

Robotics/Augments: TRUESIGHT Eyes (Able to let him see significantly further than the normal person, and be able to see in the dark.) Strength-Enhanced Arms and Legs.

Alignment: Lawful Evil

Text Color: Orange

Main Hobbies: Writing, Directing, Acting.

Favorite Food: Ribs.

Favorite Flower: Sunflowers.

Scent: Like an old book.

Handedness: Right-Handed.

Blood Color: Red.

Awareness: Somewhat Aware. [Effect: Neutral]

Birthday: June 27th.

Theme:

Playlist: N/A, For now.

Fun Facts: Him and his brother used to write stories all the time together as children. Its been a passion his entire life.

Special Interests: Classical Theater, Mythology.

Stims: Foot Tapping, Pacing.

Comfort Objects: None.

Family:

Daniel Crane (Brother) ...

Alicia Gates (Ex-Wife) I don't blame her.

Are Yoru (Adopted Daugther) I... I feel quite strange emotions regarding her. She is but a child needing protection.

Friends: None.

Romance: None, Currently.

Enemies: Kriston (A man that scares even myself.)

Brief Personality

Backstory: "Have you ever wanted to write a story before?

I did, once upon a time. Many drafts, many attempts. Yet none of them ever sparkled. Each and every time, I felt as if something wasmissing from them. They felt flat, bland, and uninteresting.

That is- until the day I found that book.

Do not ask me where it came from or how it truly works—that is something I am uncertain of. However, when I made contact with it... I awoke in a blank, white void. I was confused at first and frankly horrified. Would I ever be able to return to the mortal coil? Was I dead? Is this what the afterlife is like...? As the certainty of the situation began to set in, I screamed out of frustration, "LET ME OUT OF THIS GOD-FORSAKEN PLACE!" Then, right before me, a door appeared. It was almost as if genuine, true magic had occurred in front of my very eyes. Walking forth, I pressed my hand on the door... And I was back in my study.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------Weeks turned into months, and it grew into an obsession. Whatever I wished for became true within that void. My stories finally had color to them—my MASTERPIECES finally had that spark that they were missing. It all made sense. I was not a poor creative; I was merely missing my final piece! I was merely missing the light that had begun the universe.

Finally, I was able to see my puppets perform for me personally. Nothing else mattered, as the world was my stage now, and there is nothing else that mattered.

There's nothing else that ever truly mattered."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[omgkalyppso]

Hi i've been insomnia scrolling thru étoile's tag reading as much as i can about them & i LOVE paladin characters, and the devotion => oathbreaker pipeline in particular is sooooo tasty (my first tav had that trajectory), so i was wondering if you could share more about that aspect of their character (sorry if you have somewhere else and i just haven't found it yet)

You're so very kind, thank you! (:

I have a post about what I allowed to cause their Oathbreaking in-game.

But I'm happy to elaborate! (Me @ me: That's not necessary—)

I also have a few scattered posts about the following details that I'm happy to compile in one place.

.

The [temporary camp character] I'm referring to in that linked Oathbreaking post is Arabella, and she asked if we'd found her parents. And I was like, okay let me not have this conversation covered in blood— But there was no way to back out of that conversation "neutrally," I guess, the best option being "I haven't found them yet. (lie)" And the Oathbreaker Spirit saying "Something in you has broken" for that was so annoying, but someone told me that it completely explained why the stereotype of classic d&d Paladins was Like That and why Xenk's characterization in D&D Honor Among Thieves was the way that it was.

For Xenk specifically, his inability to make exceptions to upholding goodness paired with his way of speaking ("Just because that sentence is symmetrical doesn't make it not nonsense.") is entirely constructed to avoid Oathbreaking = losing his god's favour, losing his abilities, and breaking his code of honour. Perhaps if Étoile had been able to tell Arabella, "That which can be found must first be lost." Then they would have avoided lying / Oathbreaking; or maybe they should have just been honest and ignored the blood.

.

Their mother, Wylla, being a Paladin in Tamriel (Skyrim, ESO) meant she had entirely different constraints on her morality (none). I think this means that her Oath in the Forgotten Realms was almost so vague as to be meaningless. Let me come up with an Oath to satisfy myself and move on from this point:

Oath of Kinship

Allegiance Above All. Defend those who would call you ally. Never turn against your kin.

Mercy. Offer patience and forgiveness to enemies that change their hearts.

Rivalry. Challenge peers and adversaries with pride and prowess. Flaunt wisdom and ability.

Honor Your Community. Strive to support your friends and respect the boundaries of your neighbours.

Easy enough for Wylla to reason out that anyone who looks on her with fear as they die hasn't truly changed their heart, and all who seek to injure her family isn't kin.

.

But her Oath is important because it would have been her achievements that initially inspired and motivated Étoile to continue down this path. Her training could have changed to just protecting their home if Étoile had instead pursued something more like being a priest of Auril, or to just protecting themself if Étoile had wanted to leave the mountain for any other life. It was an Oath she kept from her outset as a Paladin, which would have been around 27 years of age, until her death at 66. 39 years.

I think of Zevlor too, and how he might've been a Paladin from a young man. I'll say 23, to his Oathbreaking (whether after leaving his order when Elturel returned from Avernus or after Act 2, depending on your perspective) — I held a poll and found most people think he's 45 years old, I like 64 for Zevlor; that's either 22 years or 41 years in his Oath.

Étoile expected to live in their Oath for centuries. They were setting up a way of life for themself. They only managed from the ages of 100 to 166, but that's 66 years, and longer than either of these other two Paladins, and probably many more besides.

.

Auril, Étoile's forgotten realms deity, has had a surprising number of Chosen in my opinion, and at least two, possibly three, that seem to be concurrent. I would have assumed a god could only have one Chosen at a time!

One of her Chosen was the Neutral Good Bard Artus Cimber, a famous adventurer who held titles such as, Master Historian, Grumog's Bane, and God Slayer.

I think that such a devout and revered member of Auril's faithful was able to maintain both her favour and their alignment had also instilled a hope (or even an expectation) that Étoile would be able to get through their own trials without Oathbreaking / changing too much.

They do love people and strive to protect them, though for others that has meant death. They wouldn't have thought siding with the living of two choices (He Who Was vs Madeline) would have been perceived as the evil action, especially with how they personally felt about Madeline's actions.

They had already been allied with beings that most Paladins would have not tolerated due to stricter definitions of evil, and somehow these actions had been forgivable, but not this.

It made them a little crueller, more willing to express hatred and impatience, to side with evil beings and choices, no longer required to uphold their Oath, only their dignity.

With this in mind:

They were able to support Shadowheart through the loss of her faith and way of life, and eventually to support her in spitting in Shar's eye for the sake of reuniting her with family.

They signed Raphael's pact instantly.

Their greatest fear has always been a loss of autonomy and the Emperor's actions and presence was a direct risk to that, if not an outright flaunting of that power: Étoile remembers their body twisting on its own to find that first illithid parasite. They never used their ~Abilities~, though it can be noted that they did debate the temptations a lot in Act 2, never deciding it was worth the risk. And then knowing the Emperor had witnessed their every intimate moment, and possibly their every private thought, for the past few tendays, was unforgivable.

They liked Lae'zel more than the Emperor. Raphael had been the first entity to uphold part of a promise by giving them the privacy of their own mind for five minutes, and what did Étoile care if the war in the hells shifted in his favour. Getting the Crown of Karsus off the Material Plane sounded like a wonderful fucking idea. Mystra had made no promises to Gale about removing his or the others' illithid parasites and based on Gale's experience with her, Étoile didn't think she would! Karlach wanted to steal the contract, but Étoile thought Raphael would make a better ally than Mystra than he would make an enemy.

Étoile was like half-way through their signature when Raphael added that he wouldn't even use the Crown to dominate people on the Material Plane or whatever the fuck and like ? oh, that's nice.

They would have allowed Astarion to kill his siblings if he'd thought that was best, but they couldn't let him kill the spawn, that was too many. People he didn't know, with just as much capacity for growth as he'd had. Étoile had lived on the outskirts of a village of 400 — not even in the village! — the scope of 7000 was just so many.

While Étoile would never, under any circumstances, risk their mother's life, their relationship to her was far different than Wyll's relationship to his father. They convinced him to get out of his pact; in Étoile's opinion if Ulder truly cared for Wyll then he wouldn't want him to stay indebted to Mizora, and if he didn't then fuck him Wyll deserved better.

Their only real regret that was part of their "base canon" was not offering to go with Karlach to Avernus. I kept hoping Wyll would offer after they added that possibility, but it never happened in Étoile's primary save file. I'd like to play them again sometime, and hopefully then the end of Wyll's quest won't be bugged for them and we can finish the stuff with Ansur. Étoile was afraid, and selfish, and had things they wanted to do / people and causes they were devoted to on the Material Plane, so they didn't offer.

And I say "base canon" because keep the headcanon that a piece of the Mourning Frost / the upgraded Dead of Winter in their personal quest, is able to magically cool Karlach's raging heart and allow her to remain on the Material Plane.

.

Also sharing this post about post-canon Étoile written before the epilogue came out.

.

I think their Devotion never truly leaves them, but they can never return to their Order (which is part of why I never bothered naming it) and can never rise in the ranks. They would also feel they don't deserve the respect of a Paladin, especially ones living in their Oaths, and I feel many others would also feel this way about them. But they killed people before their Oath, during, and after. It's only their conduct that's changed, and not so much that they're unrecognizable from Neutral Good to Neutral Evil, but enough that they feel it, and enough that it terrifies those who relied on their goodness — even Astarion balks at the idea of the pact with Raphael.

.

From my Bad At Biting fic; Étoile x Astarion:

“A single night would suffice [for a vampire to turn someone into a vampire spawn],” Astarion confirmed, whilst Étoile took a deep breath between their teeth. “Death is the requirement.” He winced through his smile, waiting a moment while his gaze danced between their person and their visage. “You let me lead you very close last night.” Despite their recent understanding of their circumstances, Étoile still managed to smile in response. The answer was easy. There was a fellowship in surviving starvation in the north, and a camaraderie in those who ran from the same enemies, who sought comparable freedoms. Étoile’s mother had eaten people, and their own hands were hardly clean — not like their conscience. Denying a vampire a mouthful of blood hardly felt in-line with their upbringing. They knew their Oath, and they knew their code, the path where they met was always going to be difficult, and hard for others to understand. Even vampires, it seemed. “I trusted you would stop,” Étoile said generously, more believable in past-tense than it might have been in the moment.

From my Magic In The Air fic; Étoile x Gan (evil path) (headcanons about the limits of Auril's magic):

“Three years ago,” Étoile explained, “Auril was defeated by a group of adventurers. It’s what put a stop to her Everlasting Rime. When she died, I lost use of Ray of Frost until she was reborn on the following winter solstice.” They closed their hand, tighter than they needed to to dispel the magic. “So there are limits to the distribution of magic,” Étoile concluded. “Even innate.” Gan’s poise and patience should have felt distancing, they were ever sharp and unabashed in their valuations of their enemies and allies both, but Étoile couldn’t help feeling mollified by her attention. Étoile hoped that Gan would recognize this extension of their trust in baring this vulnerability. “Between our … victory over the grove,” Étoile said, dropping their hand to their side, squaring their posture, “and the following night, I could not use magic that was powered by my oath as a Paladin, not until that was restored by the Oathbreaker Knight, but even then, despite losing my capacity to be her Paladin, I was still Auril’s faithful, and … this spell wasn’t lost to me, as maybe I felt it should have been.” “You’re stricter with yourself than your goddess?” Gan asked, amusement in their tone and an sympathetic tilt in their brow. Étoile scoffed through a smile. “It had just been some time since— Well. I’d been living in Baldur’s Gate and among … people. If I had only been trying to live and learn, maybe I would’ve been different, but with those I grew close to, I was trying to advocate for my own manner of people — and to do that, included bending to laws and morality that are not the providence of my god. It is a relief to know that she would still have me, regardless.”

[viciouslyfilthy]

STARTER FOR @historicallyimmortal 🧭

Anthropology was already a thing that was among some the man's studies, but recently he'd decided to focus more on it...

More specifically, archeology. There were so many relics that could be useful in his experiments, if their whereabouts were still a mystery... why not give it a try on finding them? It's not like he was in a rush, what with the whole deal of being eternally bound to a seasonal spirit and all.

If this man found any kind of pre-historic remains, much less those of a dinosaur, rest assured that he would absolutely attempt to create something with it; not necessarily try to bring it back to life, rather... 'recycling life', so to speak. But unlike the movies, he wouldn't seek monetary gain from it, should it succeed; and he'd put down whatever abomination he created the second it showed any hostility.

Fantasies aside, here he was, in the thickness of the woods, hair tied into a tight ponytail, wearing the typical outfit an archeologic explorer had to for any expedition... with the addition of his trusty crossbow and a generous amout of arrows at his disposal, their sharp tip coated in man-o-war venom. Just a precaution.

With his gaze mainly focused on his compass, he moved forward to the North. Once the woodline cleared a little... he sighed in relief, footsteps coming to a halt as he observed what laid before him, as he had finally found what he was looking for: a village... or so it was, a long time ago. Nature had reclaimed most of it (something his deity, Sün, would've taken great pride in), it gave a sense of nostalgia to the whole place, a nostalgia that didn't belong to the doctor. He went from house to house, one building to another- and he continued like this until nightfall, and even with the darkness, he didn't pause his search.

Though more difficult to see, it was nothing a couple oil lanterns placed around, and a torch to light up the way, couldn't resolve. Except... well, he was expecting to be completely alone. That's why when his torch illuminated a large male figure lying on a bed, half-consumed by nature, dr. Kraus nearly jumped out of his skin. He'd almost dropped the torch- last thing he wanted was to accidentally set the entire village ablaze... but what in the nine circles of Dante's Inferno was this?!

Some kind of giant humanoid statue, right? It had to be... but why leave it inside someone's residence? He carefully approached the still figure. It's body was too detailed to just be a statue- sure, he knew it was possible to sculpt marble statues that had uncanny human resemblance... but this- accompanied by actual coloring on the skin and clothes... either this was some modern statue, or it was a corpse.

But if it was the latter... why hadn't it begun to rot? Why was it just covered in flora? No insects or animals to inspect...?

This wasn't normal.

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 7.a

At first I thought this was going to be a Ulysse interlude, then I realized it's Kevin. Blech.

... I'd say it's interesting that the majority of interludes we've gotten have been from the points of view of antagonists, but I think that might just be a reflection of how few true allies the Kennet Trio has

Not much to say about this opening scene, just Kevin being exactly what I expected

By his gospel, the one we came to name Prometheus had peers, and it was not the one who tried to seize the original Fire, but many. All who tried, succeed or fail, were punished. I found my deity nine miles beneath the surface of the earth, thoroughly protected so none might disturb his eternal punishment. Had he succeeded, our campfires might not be wood we’ve set alight, but something else entirely.

oh that's sick as hell. I am now invested in Ulysse

Now he is my god and I am his sole worshiper, his champion.

"Sole worshiper of a god" is a great concept. (This is part of why I'm having such a good time with Pale Lights). I really like the blending of a normally-distant divine relationship with the closeness that comes from being the only one (and often the god taking a great deal of interest in and care of their worshiper's life). Also fun way to play around with faith and power dynamics, depending on how much ability the god retains and how seriously the worshiper takes the divinity aspect.

Other works that have this: Pale Lights, Thief's Covenant, The Thousand Eyes

 "Later, I met your god before you did. He burned me alive both times I ventured down there.  Others had claim over me.  In another lifetime, toward the end, we became friends.”

I also want to read this story

He shared an appreciation for things of value, and if Lawrence wasn’t keeping the company of fellow weirdos from the same families as these kids at this school, he would sometimes invite Kevin.

oh that is 100% manipulation

But over the years, little moments like that had stacked up.  And now… …Now he was a bit afraid of her.

I looked back at the girls' theories about Rae, and they ended up at personification of backlash? But that was just a guess

And it looks like Kevin isn't escaping the karma his eye generates... that could amplify whatever's up with Rae, once it finally explodes

Ted?  What was going on with Ted?  Was Alexander in communication with the man?

I'm not sure either: It could just be an effect of Ted being karmically blessed, and the librarian/school in general offering him what he needs

Clem was as stupid as I’ve ever seen her.  We’re not best friends anymore

oh good, that must be a relief for her

my online following is… it’s better than ever, frankly, but it’s taking more of my time to manage until all the fights and arguments die down.

I hope she's lying about that one

in the center of that table was a recreation of Sargent Hall, complete with mini-figures representing the occupants.

return of this thing! I guess Nicolette got it out from the fire ok

Ted — Kevin — Shellie — Rae Respective to their names were cards and numbers. 3, 7, 13, 19.

The dossier noted that Ted and Clem are around the same level of use, so it makes sense that he's number three. I wonder who is 1? Kevin being rated higher than Shellie seems like a reflection on how useful his eye is at dealing with mundane problems subtly (and how hard she is to control). Not sure what the ranking implies about Rae.

Noose in one corner, connecting to Ted, coin in the other, connecting to Shellie.

once again, same types of object as the awakening ritual. Coin is mostly fortune I think, woven object I'm less sure. Pact awakening ritual had it as dream and fate.

But he could read the notation.  ‘Noone will die at his girlfriend’s hand’.

get fucked!

“Nah, stark resemblance to an old crush,” he said. “Writing on the back says… Laila Throop. Was your old crush a Throop?”

no idea what's up with this, but it has to be important. Laila's been coming up a lot lately (Musette, and Fernanda's interlude). Her family specializes in curses: I could see them coming into contact with Kevin through that.

The works themselves are a trove of detail on people, especially those in the Maritime provinces and the major cities of Canada and the northeastern United States.

oh cool. So Alexander has compiled Ted's notes from other timelines. I wonder how long he's had them? Because this could explain a lot, if he's been able to draw on this knowledge for his plans all along. It would explain how he made those dossiers, for one.

... I wonder if there's anything on Kennet or the Carmine Beast in there. I don't think there'd be anything on the girls, since Ted's loop ended before they got involved, but things have been going on in the town for a while.

Courtesy of Raymond, the prompt is yet unfinished, but each pull from the coda of texts will help it improve.  For the time being it will do its best to list texts that may be relevant.

score one for the digital humanities

Alexander, I think, wanted us to find it because there may be traps here, not in the sense that a blade may jump out of nowhere, I don’t think, but the wrong information in the wrong person’s mind.

I can see Kevin setting off events by trying to preemptively defend himself from Rae, or this pushing him into demanding answers.

This was an arrangement of a court of judges in this region, who saw the danger and reached out to everyone in the area to ensure they had the power to set this into motion. 

oh! My first thought was the council the CB was on, but I looked at the dossiers again, and Ted's from Prince Edward Island, which is pretty far away, so probably not

I am a collector of people.  If you’ll take my help, I’ll point you to certain people.  But the moment you’re free, if it has anything to do with my help, I want your assistance after.

well fuck. I guess that explains why Ted works for Bristow now.

one student named Laila Throop was on the opposing side and had a really strong resemblance to someone from his past that he hated. “Her next.” He tapped her photograph

man Laila can just not catch a break... I wonder if this is what Musette saw?

[freswoe]

the sleeby is consuming me like a forest fire but not as quickly as thoughts of my ocs. that’s going like Two forest fires. anyway sydra rask of Final Flames fame i love you girl.

now on the one hand she’s a 6’4 white-haired muscled woman with eyes that blink far less than they should. she’s an ex-heretic who has no issues with her chosen deity at all, she totally doesn’t see herself as just an extension of his will in order to suppress her own personhood! every time she’s received a vision of her deity he (without fail) has turned out to be a monster and tried to kill her. this is fine. she doesn’t know who she is or what she wants beyond religion because she hasn’t grown as a person since she was 16. a part of her thinks she genuinely died back in that forest all those years ago and she’s just moving through life as a ghost, carrying out one last task for her lord before she passes on. she’s never had friends before.

on the other hand if she was real she’d pose like straight guys on dating apps with fish and have a ‘women want me fish fear me’ hat. she is straight but she’d still do it. she loves fishing so much that she fished up a direshark with a magic sword in its back and didn’t really care about the danger, she was just so excited that she got such a big one. she’s one of the two party members with a positive charisma score and yet almost caused a diplomatic incident because a clerk was CLEARLY lying about a plot-relevant NPC passing through and he tried to claim that their pin which sydra found had belonged to her all along. the entire party had to drag her back from throttling him. the only other member of the party with positive charisma is a wizard who says such out of wack things that no amount of positive charisma could offset the actual real words he has spoken. she tried to persuade her horse to run faster and it threw her underneath a falling giant. the entire party went to investigate an ominous tower and she stayed back, and yet was attacked by a flight of demonic crows. she made a deal with a fae for True Sight but she gets mega tummyache every time she uses it. she has fantasy asthma.

[sachingja]

there is something to be said about men of jin hogae's caliber. first, that they all move within circles foreign to dojin, who has spent half of his life in dusty lecture halls, learning his trade, and the other out in the trenches of war in between the sort of everyday violence that would turn even the most faithful into non-believers. dojin, for what it is worth, believes in very little but his own aptitude and has no faith in anything but his own hands holding a scalpel or a needle and thread. to many that is unbecoming, to his dead father it was a sign of filial ineptitude, as if they did not raise their son with enough heart and conviction to care of his own familial ties, and the ancestors that supposedly gave him all that wit to pursue his passion as far as he has. well, dojin has no time for the dead and would like to keep whoever ends up beneath his fingertips alive and well — a perfectly fine case study attesting just that is currently all but sprawled all over him, with a wide range of motion restored which should speak favorably to dojin's excellent services, but has him curse his own idiocy, presently, of following the lanky inspector wherever he takes him. what is he, some maiden in need of a charming suitor? dojin would roll his eyes if hogae would not be as close as he is, far too close for any two gentlemen to be found in, but thankfully he prevented anyone from ever finding them, locking that god-forsaken door.

but, dojin might be digressing here, somewhat. men of jin hogae's caliber usually have no interest in men like bong dojin, besides perhaps seeking out a discreet surgeon to perform the sort of miracle people would rather put their faith in than any deity. but doctors are no saints, they can not will miracles into existence, and dojin has watched one too many man die in his care. that is the nature of a war no one wishes to confront — the soldiers will die, the blood will flow, the night falls, and all dojin has in return is a shelf full of memories that come to haunt him in his dreams. he closes his eyes briefly and exhales on a careful measure, shoving the weight of his right shoulder against the bulk of hogae, mindful of the sleeve of his jacket; unlike hogae, he does not have that many spares and this is the finest suit he can count to his name. he would like to keep it that way, yet there is a finger curled into his sleeve because hogae has hands the size of a bedside table or a particular large tome, or maybe a pan. large enough to curl all but twice around dojin's very normal-sized, very skillful hands. a pair of hands he would like to keep fully intact for the foreseeable future, thank you very much.

wistfully, he sends a glance outside into the snowy darkness, the fields and pastures lying beyond the glass. the smell of freedom. " if we do not open this window, you will die without any outside interference, " dojin hisses, flexing his fingers in hogae's grasp and sinking two of his nails into hogae's palm, until he will hopefully budge at least a little. " for i will be the one to do it myself. apparently that would please your father, no? " the words come through gritted teeth, but his eyes fly towards the hallway, their door made of fine antique wood, a glass panel in the middle of it. so far, nothing can be seen in the dim glow of the hallway but dojin reaches upwards to dim the light in their car regardless, suddenly feeling rather uneasy. he shifts beneath hogae's weight; they might be sitting entirely too close but dojin is thankful for the body between him and whatever might be waiting on the other side of that innocuous door. " you did not save me, do not flatter yourself — i was perfectly able to handle some delinquent boy's attempt to ransack my home — this is not even the point. what do you mean, a killer? why would your father send you on an expensive trip such as this only to assassinate you. would that not be a waste of money? "

the weather has been his first fear. jin hogae is not made for the siberian cold, no matter how much his father seems him a stately man, one of strong resolve and made for backroom talk as much as exploring the vast tundra somewhere far past the hills and valleys of their homeland. hogae isn't cut out for this - he hates weather of any extreme, can't do well in the freezing cold and neither does he dabble well in, say, the humid tropics or a dry desert. he likes to believe he was made for the very place he hails from, a fish in water so to speak, but there is little to no room for argument when it concerns his overtly stubborn father. the money spent on the train car isn't a show of goodwill, it's not even a peace offering. ( his father does not believe in peace treaties either, he'd execute anyone that wronged him on the spot that if that were still in fashion. ) a prison sentence is what it is, his father pushing him to do his bidding under the guise of inspiring guilt in hogae though they both know filial piety is a foreign concept to either of them, and if hogae weren't so certain of it he'd wager a strong guess that his father wants him dead.

actually, really wants to get rid of him in the most inauspicious manner. inspectors die all the time, trains fall off the tracks, so on and so forth. that's hogae's second fear, or worry, though he hasn't imparted this witness on his companion yet. it has nagged him since they got on the train in seoul, and followed him all the way across the peninsula and onto the mainland, and now he fears he might be right on both accounts - oh, dojin will hate this, he will hate it so much. he is a good friend, the best hogae's ever had besides his partner in the precinct, and bound to hogae in the same manner hogae is bound to him. the war forges ties deeper than blood, dojin having stitched him together with the thread of a needle and the conviction of a man who would hate to see anyone die under his hand because death is an awful thing and it would look bad on his resumé. dojin is a man of his own passions, wily and silent as they are, but hogae supposes he is lucky he's got a doctor on hand, if anything goes wrong tonight or in the upcoming weeks of their journey. he is a consistent moon in the periphery of hogae's gaze, a cold shine to him that belies thorough compassion beneath, and he is so very annoyed at the unfolding of today's events. it is obvious.

" now, now, my dear doctor. if you open this window, i will die. but i might die even before that if we are to be disturbed until sunlight returns, " hogae tells him with a wild smile, the one that always makes him appear unseemly and unhinged and that most women scold at after his height and his attractiveness bewitched them. it's the one that leaves him entirely spouse-less, as his father likes to lament, and the one he gave dojin once he woke up from a heavy dose of morphine after his shoulder got sewn together by the man. having made sure the door is securely locked, he sits down next to the other, half on top of him, and reaching over dojin's lap to keep his hands from even creeping up to the window. " this is not a fluke. i do not do flukes - what does this even mean? one of my? i am seasoned professional. i saved you from that burglar that was about to break into your ancestral home. " knowing to get ahead of himself, hogae shakes his head, and turns to look dojin straight in the eye. " there is a killer on the loose. the silent kind. one of my father's employees. i wasn't sure, but i have seen him leave the dining cart just as we entered. i had to make sure he didn't break into our car. "

[dandelion-sugar]

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐟𝐞 『Adam x Reader』

Summary: Reader was Adam's first wife before he married Eve.

Warning: Angst, a little fluff, death, deities are really cruel

15,8k

Author's note: Requests for Genshin have not been forgotten! I'm working on it BUT I just finished season one of Record of Ragnarok and needed to write about Adam. I think he deserves more writing about him...he's the best husband and father Earth could have!

"A demoness? A succubus? No! A human whose legends turn her into a fearsome ruler of the underworld! She rules an entire army with an iron fist! Made of the clay of creation, she is made in the image of the gods! N°00000000002 : Lilith!" shouted Heimdall to announce your entrance.

You have been chosen to save humanity. The creation of Adam and Eve. You don't know why Brunhilde trusts you to save the humans. What could she possibly have been thinking in choosing you? Were you the best choice for this? Protecting the beings conceived by your ex-husband and his new wife. Unlike your ex-lover, you refuse to walk around naked. Your body is far too precious to be revealed to the world. You stand in the middle of the arena waiting patiently for Heimdall to finish presenting your opponent.

Your eyes rest on your army led by your only son. The only being you have ever given birth to. The third human born. A slight smile appeared on your lips. Your son resembled his father, and you found that particularly funny. You couldn't help but think that Adam's genes were particularly strong. But the way your son stood proudly at the head of your army...he took that from you. Even if you were to perish in this fight, you know that your army and your son will come through.

Your right hand will be around the shaft of your spear. You hear the mocking laughter of the gods, announcing your crushing defeat. You hear the hesitant whispers of humans about your place among the fighters of humanity. You are known in human legends to be a danger to pregnant women and newborns. To be honest with yourself, you hate this legends. You are a mother, how can humans think that you would harm a woman and her child? Your eyes drop slightly to the floor and your lips pucker into an unpleasant pout. After a few seconds, your face frees itself of all displays of emotion and your hand rises to challenge Heimdall.

"Yes, Lilith?" asks the god who has the role of announcer.

"I will not fight under that name," you announce.

"Huh?" he blurts out in surprise.

"I will not fight under the name of the monster the humans wanted to make me," you reply immediately.

"So...what do you want to be called?"

Lying in a meadow, you enjoy the sun and the soft breeze on your bare skin. Rabbits and foxes quickly surround you to enjoy the comfort with you. Everything is perfect in the Garden of Eden. A shadow covers your face, forcing you to open your eyes to discover the obstacle between you and the sun. It is a pleasant surprise when you discover your husband's welcoming smile, his blonde locks framing his face. Adam sits down beside you, placing his fruit basket between his legs. He pulls out a bunch of grapes and takes one between his long fingers. He then brings the fruit to your lips to let you savour the sweet, pleasant taste of the fruit. A sigh of contentment crosses your lips. Your husband's smile widens as he notices your relaxed state.

"You have grape juice running down your chin, Lilith," Adam informs you.

Your eyelids droop slightly as your eyes express your displeasure. Adam only lets a laugh emit from his throat as he leans forward to lick the grape juice off. Your hand gently but firmly pushes him away. You want him to understand that his gestures of affection will not be tolerated again until he realises his mistake. And you know perfectly well that he has understood what he has done.

"Stop teasing me," you say, a frown appearing on your face.

"I like to see your eyebrows furrow. You look like that kitten that was trying to scare us." replies Adam, running his hand over your hip stroking it in lazy circles, as if to soothe you.

"But unlike that kitten, I can bite," you reply sharply.

"I know you can..." he hums in the hollow of your ear. "Y/N."

This memory was a moment of pure happiness that you experienced in the Garden of Eden before you were forced into exile. This name you chose with Adam was the beginning of your independence from the gods. You had never accepted the principle of being subject to a man and Adam always supported you in this choice. But the gods did not like this and in response you abandoned the name they gave you at your creation. Perhaps this is why Eve was created from Adam's rib? To prevent her from becoming like you.

"Y/N. Call me that," you proudly announce.

The gods of your creation frown but do not protest. They hope that you will perish against one of their own and that your soul will disintegrate in space and time.

Adam had slipped out of the room where he was locked up. When he learned of your presence here, he did not expect you to fight for the humans. The children he had with another woman. He snuck into the bleachers to get a better look at your figure. A sense of nostalgia stirs in his heart as he sees that you haven't changed in all this time. You stand with dignity, your weapon in hand. You are strong and independent, you have become the woman you always dreamed of. A woman you could not have become if you were in his company because...everyone wants his wife to be submissive to him.

Adam does not regret his married life with Eve, he enjoys it too. But he has enjoyed the life he has lived with you. He believes in your victory. He wants you to win. He does not want to witness your complete disappearance from the universe without any chance of reincarnation. Your first separation has already split his heart in two, Adam does not want to experience this intense pain a second time.

You swing your divine spear with one hand, deflecting your opponent's first blow. The strength in this attack was not worthy of a god, was he testing your abilities? Your eyes meet. The victorious and arrogant smile on the god's face already irritates you. He underestimated you because you are a human AND a woman. His leg comes to sweep over yours but you manage to dodge by gaining height. You position your spear, blade towards the ground to pierce his skull. The god quickly dodges in a backward leap, leaving you to land on the ground, puncturing the concrete floor which cracks under the impact.

Your exchange of blows lasts for a while. Or should we say: the god throws blows at you that you deflect with your spear. But suddenly, his paterne changes. The force that the god uses becomes more powerful. His leg comes to meet your stomach. You prevent the blow from reaching your skin by placing your spear between your stomach and his leg. Unfortunately, the attack sends you flying a few metres away. You manage to land with difficulty and before you can regain a stable footing, the god launches himself at you. You are forced to fall to the side in a roll to narrowly dodge the punch. Your cheek begins to bleed.

"Mother!" your distraught son shouts.

"Commander! Get up!" your soldiers shout to encourage you.

You let out a breath, your muscles relax, making your movements more fluid and lively. Your eyes fall on the figure of your opponent. The aura around you changes completely, causing the small smile on the god's face to disappear. Your hands grip the spear and your feet anchor themselves to the ground to give you a good foothold.

"Answer my question before we resume this fight. Why are you fighting for the humans?" the god asks.

"Do I need a reason to fight? The gods have forced me to be submissive and men have clothed me in a veil of monstrous lies. It's like choosing between the plague and cholera," you explain. "But I had to choose and I chose my ex-husband's children.

The humans observing the exchange begin to stir, either out of guilt or because they were moved by your story. Humans get teary-eyed easily, you think. But you can't help but find this side of them very touching. Perhaps it was a good thing that Eve was the Mother of humanity?

"Humans have the will to survive and a strength that allows them to constantly evolve. This is a strength that the gods can never possess," you say with contempt.

Your hatred for the gods is much stronger than your hatred for humans. On your words, the fight resumes. You manage to follow your opponent's movements. Like Adam, you were forged from clay in the image of the gods. You are Adam's equal, you have the same ability as him to copy the techniques you see. Your movements remind the gods of Athena. You had copied the movements of this goddess a long time ago.

Your body and that of your opponent are covered in blood. You are bleeding from the wounds inflicted on you, but you were able to avenge yourself by seriously injuring your opponent as well.

Adam clenches his lips into a thin line, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands but he still believes in your victory. You must win. You can't give him up a second time...you can't.

"They've created a second wife for you," you scream indignantly.

"You're the only one for me," Adam admits in an attempt to calm your nerves. He can't bear to see you cry.

"It's only a matter of time before the gods kick me out of the Garden of Eden! I don't understand their desire to have me submit to male authority! Do goddesses submit to male deities?" you growl in frustration. The anger was so strong that you can't hold back the tears.

"If they chase you away then I'll go with you," Adam announces, interlacing your fingers together.

A soft warmth spreads through your chest as a gasp of surprise passes through your lips. A slight blush marks your cheeks as you look away from your husband. You can't help but enjoy the tender feeling. Adam wraps his muscular arms around you in a soothing embrace. His scent calms your restless nerves.

"Spend the night with me tonight," you whisper.

"We always sleep together," he says, tilting his head to the side, not understanding the meaning of your words.

"Adam..." you gasp shyly. It almost sounded like a soft moan.

His blue eyes widen slightly as the implied request is processed by his brain. A teasing smile spreads across his face as he leans in to your blushing ear to whisper provocative words.

That was the last evening you spent in his company before the gods kidnapped you and threw you away from the Garden of Eden. You never tried to return to that place, you knew it wasn't possible. So you did your best to survive. You were able to thrive and enjoy your newfound independence.

That night Adam gave you a gift, your son: Eurynome. A child identical to his father, who grew up with you as his only role model. He has become an independent young man capable of leading an army. But he remains a child... a child afraid to be alone without the reassuring presence of his mother.

It is impossible to understand the pain of losing a parent when you have not experienced it. No one could understand a tenth of the pain of Eurynome's scream as the god's fist plunges into your chest.

Your eyes crinkle under the sudden fatigue your body feels. Your right hand struggles to hold the spear. The humans weep in despair as the gods celebrate the downfall of Lilith, the woman who did not obey divine orders.

Nausea takes hold of Adam's body. All that blood, your blood spilling on the floor. Will you die? Disappear forever...you don't even know that he witnessed your fight. You will never know that he missed you terribly. You will never know that he wanted to feel your warmth in his arms again and whisper those three words to you.

Your eyes linger on your son's tear-streaked face. A peaceful smile appears on your lips. A fire of determination shines in your eyes. Your hand tightens around the spear and you slice the god's jugular before collapsing to your knees. If you must die...then you will prevent the gods from achieving a victory as well.

Your eyes slowly close and your hearing becomes increasingly blurred. The voices are now just an indistinguishable din.

Adam could only watch as your body and the god's dematerialize into a smoke of green glitter. His legs move towards the battlefield as if trying to retrieve the flakes that represent your soul dissolving into space. But your son's crying snaps him out of his trance. His eyes fall on a miniature version of himself.

Cain and Abel have some characteristics of their father but Eurynome is a carbon copy of Adam and you would have to be blind not to notice. Adam walks over to your son and takes him in his arms, sharing his pain. Adam fully understands the tug of war that Eurynome feels.

That night Adam gave you a gift, your son. Today, this gift will show the world that you existed. That you are not like your legends.

You are an independent woman, a mother and Adam's wife.

"Adam," you call to your husband, who is perched on a tree branch.

"Yes?" he hums, keeping his eyes closed.

"Don't you think I'm strange?" you finally question him. "Do you think I owe you obedience too?

Silence passes between the two of you. A pain assails your heart at this lack of response and you instantly regret having asked him the question. The disappointment was much stronger than you had thought. You look up abruptly when you hear a thud only a few feet away. Adam had just jumped from his branch. His back was to you. He turns towards you, his face devoid of emotion. He encircles your cheeks with his warm palms. His piercing blue eyes almost seem to probe your soul and you struggle to hold his gaze. But your desire to know the answer prevents you from looking away.

"We are husband and wife, I accept you as you are. Don't change for the world, for anyone," Adam says with conviction.

"So...you love me like this?" you ask aloud, wanting to sound confident.

Adam looks at you slightly surprised at this sudden question. He hums softly before leaning in to kiss your forehead. The smile he flashes makes your heart race.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too..." you admit after a few moments.

[kass-storycorner]

*cough* so i really love your work!! i love everything your put out so far however i’m now going to request for angst mwehehrh. Feel free to reject this if you aren’t comfortable!!

archon x albedo but they break up with him because they still haven’t moved on from their past lover that was slaughtered and felt it would be unfair if they stayed with albedo if they still loved someone else? Thankyou!!!

don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry

I'm so sorry that it took this long, I have been working a lot the past month and I've not been well mentally soooo yeah, but I'm glad I finally finished it! I was suprised myself at what I wrote, I only had to write an ending for this so ouch haha

thank you so much for your kind words I’m- ahhh I’m so happy that you love what I shared ( ˙꒳​˙ )

I’m so insecure with my writing so it’s reassuring to hear such kind words!

about the request: ooooOOOH I love this!!! And honestly my mind went directly into thousand different directions to make it even MORE angsty ahaha poor Albedo ( ╥ω╥ )

Genre: Angst, Hurt, no comfort, a bit fluff in between but it's more bittersweet

Rating: SFW

Content Warnings: mention of Khaenri`ah, mention of blood

Word count: 1,811 words

Characters: Albedo, gn!dendro Archon reader

Format: Text

Fic is under the cut!

“-and I think it is best to go separate ways from now on.” Ah, how peculiar. What is this strange feeling in Albedo’s chest? It feels like there is no air in his lungs anymore, an unsettling feeling spreading from his stomach through his whole body. Feverously he searched his mind for a reason for your words. Go separate ways? He heard what you said, but at the same time he did not understand the meaning of your words. Albedo stood there in your shared bedroom, stiff as a board his eyes pierced through you, no longer looking at you. It was as if you weren’t there.

“Albedo?”, your head peaked through the door of his office, sending him a smile. He peaked up from the work on his desk, strands of blond hair falling in front of his eyes. “Ah, (Y/N), hello,” curling his lips into a small smile at your sight. You stepped into the office, walking around the table, and leaning on it right beside him. His eyes were fixed on you. “Busy?” you asked as you brushed the strands of hair back behind his ear. A faint blush crept unto his face; you wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for how close you were to him. Clearing his throat he looked back down on the papers in front of him, answering your question. “Umm, well yes. The next expedition to the Dragonspine and my experiments need to be organised, though the formalities of filling out the forms for Jean is nothing that I am interested in.” He heard you chuckle at his words, wondering what was so funny about them. “I wonder”, you began, leaning down to him, so close the tips of your noses nearly were touching, “if is there something here that might interest you more.” “I supposed, there is,” he said and closed the distance between the two of you with a kiss.

“Albedo?”, your concerned voice pulled him out the pleasant memory that crossed his mind. He had been quite for a while now, it worried you. You weren’t sure how he’d take it, you asking to break off your relationship. It had been quite pleasant so far, the last few months with him. There weren’t any quarrels between the two of you nor reasons for the heartbreak Albedo felt right in this moment. You both were always honest to each other, about who and what each of you were. And because of this honesty each of you valued you had to break his heart. “I-“, his voice was hoarse, it had more emotions in it than he liked it to. “I need to ask you this… why?”. He finally looked at you, his cerulean eyes filled with pain. Ah, the dreadful question you knew he would ask, but you hoped he wouldn’t. There was no use in lying to him now, to not share the true reason for why you’re breaking up with him. Though you secretly wished that you could spare him the truth.

You sat under the shadows of a tree, eyes closed and feeling the warm summer breeze on your skin. “Please, don’t move.” At that you opened your eyes, looking at Albedo sitting across of you with his sketchbook and a pencil in his hands, sketching a portrait of you. “You quick with your hands, I doubt my small movements would change anything that you draw,” you said in a teasing tone, earning a raised brow from him, but no comment. There you were, the two of you. Sitting in the shadow, a comfortable silence surrounding the both of you. You watched the way Albedo furrowed his brows, looking up to you and then down to the paper, for him to sigh in frustration and starting a new sketch. “Somethings wrong?”, it has been the fourth piece of paper he rips out of the book and tosses aside. “I seem not to be able to capture your features correctly, something always is a bit off.” “Let me see,” you lean forward trying to grab one of the sketches he tossed away, but Albedo was quicker to snatch them away. “Don’t,” he says, hiding the pieces of paper behind his back. “Oh, come on, Bedo. I wanna see, I can’t look that bad” you joke, moving closer to him hoping to get a peak at his fifth sketch. Before you could even come close to taking a look he closed the sketchbook, denying you access to it. “No matter how often I try to draw you, it never does you justice”, he sighs, pinching the bride of his nose. You were close enough to him now to lean your head on his shoulder. “You know, it is quite the challenge to get the godly features of me right,” taking his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “But I’m sure in all of the centuries I’ve lived through you might be the first one to succeed at it.”

You took a deep breath, dreading the answer you were going to give him. There was no way to sugar coat it and you were sure Albedo wouldn’t want to hear a long winded explanation if it wasn’t needed. Like a bandaid that needs to get ripped off you decided to do it as quickly as possible. “I don’t love you. I’m sorry, Albedo.” At your words Albedos heart was shattering into thousand small pieces. He swallowed hard, trying to suppress the tears that were trying to fall from his eyes… still, he had so many questions for you. His mind was racing, but all he could bring out was again the same question as before. “Why?”

“Albedo, please believe me when I say I wish I could. I wish I would love you, the way you deserve it. The way I want to, the way I still love them. You mean a great deal to me, please believe this. The time we spend together was time I enjoyed and that’s why I feel the need to be honest with you now. I hadn’t said anything before because I believed I could open my heart again, open it up for you. However it seems it’s impossible for me and I am so sorry for it. I shouldn’t have led you on like this…”

Blood curling screams were filling the streets of a small city that did not exist anymore. War was always present in Teyvat, there have been the past thousand years without it, but before that? The land was filled with the blood of mortals and god alike, the first ones killing each other in the names of the second ones. The reasons for most of the wars were laughable. One started them out of hurt pride, the other to broaden their territory and a third just out of sheer boredom. Not caring a bit about the humans that were caught in the crossfire of the gods. So when the Archon War began, similar to the ones before but just the scales were so different. There you were, a small deity. The god of the woods as they called you. You never liked the blood shed, it poisoned the earth so that no plant was able to grow. Before you were able to just avoid the wars, this time around you had no choice. And in the middle of this war you met someone astonishing. Until this day you couldn’t say if it was a curse or a blessing that they made their way into your life and your heart. All you know now is just the deep grief that is always there with you since they are gone. In the middle of bloodshed and darkness that the Archon War brought with it you found someone who made you forget the horrors of it, who made the burden of the crown easier when you rose to the position of the Dendro Archon after it - a position you didn't want at first, it falling into your hands by mere coincidence. After that you spend some marvelous years with that one person by your side, but even those who aren't entirely human are mortal, even gods can be killed. With another War that came, they left your side, wanting to protect you, to protect Sumeru. Brutally slaughtered by the hands of an enemy that envied your position, your power. Now all what remains of them is the dry earth. The massive woods of Sumeru turned into deserts, a consequence of your grief. And when the day came for another war, more blood and destruction at Khaenri`ah you decided to leave. To cut all ties with Celestia and give up the seat you never wanted in the first place.

Albedo knew most of this. He knew who you are, he knew of your nature before you made him fall in love with you. You never just told him about your past lover, too much did their loss still hurt and, what you were ashamed of admitting, too much did Albedo resemble them. In the silence of the shared room you finally told him what orginally drew you to him - how much you really wished you were able to love him for himself and while yes, you liked him very much, it was someone else you saw in him when you kissed. Someone else you wished he was. At first you didn't knew it yourself, in the beginning you really believed it was possible for you to find new love... but you still wished most days they were with you. It was time to be honest with him, to speak the truth, no matter how much you hurt him. "Albedo...", you began slowley, your voice drifting to him, but what sounded like a sweet melody just hours before now makes him feel sick. "Don't." he interrupted you. "I thank you for your honesty and for telling me the truth, but I don't need to hear more." With that he left the room, making his way towards his lab on Dragonspine. Not one person in Mondstadt would think of Albedo as a dumb person, everyone says how they are impressed with how smart he his... so why does he feel so stupid right now? He was a fool to believe that he was loveable, that someone saw him for who and what he was, not what they wanted him to be. For now he just wants to be alone again, surround himself with his work and ignore these feelings in his chest. The heartbreak, the betrayel... but also the feeling of relief. Albedo did wonder how much it would've pained you if he ever loses control, but now this is not a concern anymore. And still, as he made his way up Dragonspine he couldn't help the frozen tears coming spilling from his eyes.