#he remembers most of the saints. but only vaguely

[comfymoth]

and to you, my favorite character, i give the highest honor i can bestow………… an incredibly specific religious headcanon

[esmiara]

As promised, let me introduce you my two beloved BSD OCs:

Who are they?

Basically, Lewis and Antoine are two friends traveling around the world to discover exciting places while avoiding various government forces (more on that later). Though not related to the main story of BSD, they do know about organisations like Port Mafia and the Agency, mainly from what they heard in the streets and read in the newspapers since they arrived in Yokohama. However, they do prefer to not get anyone involved in their issues, nor do they really want to get involved in anyone else’s.

Lewis Carroll

Based on the author of Alice in Wonderland, Lewis was a man in his thirties with a fancy mind. As a child, he once had a wild imagination feeding his ability Wonderland (again, more on that later) but due to social and family pressure, he got forced upon a path of logic and perfection, now making it hard for him to think outside the box. Thus crushing his past self involuntarily and putting chains on his own mind in order to protect himself from outside complaints. As an adult, he became a plain math teacher for children, with a quite boring life. That is, until he met one certain child in London.

Their meeting

“Draw me a sheep.” said the unknown child out of the blue.

Lewis was stunned. He didn’t knew what to respond at first to this child, which he thought was one of his students. But when he put more thought on it, he didn’t looked like any child he had at the time. Who might have been this strange blond kid with unkept clothes? He decided to learn more about him, worried he may have lost his parents somewhere. However, as they talked, he quickly understood he didn’t had any. He simply didn’t knew about any “parents”. Actually, he didn’t knew much about the world itself either.

“Draw me a sheep!” repeated the child after a while of interrogative discussion about who he was, where he came from etc....

Lewis gently asked why such a demand, as he didn’t want to offend this possible lost orphan.

The boy fell silent. Then spoke again, a sad emptiness darkening his young blue eyes.

“I want a warm friend to bring with me” he simply responded.

Their exchange may have been succinct up to this point, but it was clear to Lewis that he was no normal child. As the boy seemingly didn’t have a name, Lewis gave him the name of one of his most beloved book’s author. The character of that one book simply reminded him of the boy.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

More based on the Little Prince’s main character than the actual author, Antoine was an enigmatic individual with the physical appearance of a young boy. Nobody knows of his real age, not even himself. However, most may have theorized that he at least was around for at least a few decades, if not centuries perhaps. One day found and caught by the french government in his - supposedly - hometown, he had no memories of his time before then, except for some vague fragments. He mostly remembered about this laboratory he was brought in, with a lonely room where he would occasionnally meet strangers dressed in white. Despite the many uncertainties surrounding him, Antoine was still of great interest for scientists. He didn't seemed to physically age at all. Could he hold the secret of cells regeneration or even immortality? They soon found out he did age but at a very slow pace, thus looking unchanged for many years.

Curious about this plausible new ability, they decided to make him meet a young girl, who would share his room from now on. This one girl was quite arrogant at first. Antoine didn't really like her attitude but she was the only other person he could befriend. So they did. They soon became friends. Then they learned more about the truth, may it be this girl's past, snatched from her orphanage to become a lab rat as well, or the whole reason why she was here with him in the first place.

It was all because of the young girl's ability. One that would let her copy another one and make it her own. They apparently wished to make a copy of test subject B612′s power in order to "save it” somewhere and be able to experiment on it without having to risk the boy’s life. But things didn't turned out like they wanted as the girl began to crumble under some unknown sickness. Her body couldn't handle Antoine's ability, so it seemed, and she quickly became unable to move. So she made a promise with Antoine:

“Be my eyes and explore the outer world, okay dumby?” she said, with little breath she had left.

A promise reminiscent of the one where they would explore and see the world together. One where he would do so if she couldn't follow, to make her dream come true even when she became a star.

Their abilities

Little prince

No one really knows the details about Antoine's ability. Everything we know for sure is that his body has a very long lifetime, yet not immortal. He is destined to die of aging one day and is still weak to any wound like anyone else. However, we did notice Antoine's body starts to produce a faint glow whenever he gets sick or when his life is in danger in general. Not that it really helps at all though.

Wonderland

Lewis' ability is a bit complex and confusing, much like Alice in Wonderland's whole world.

In theory, Wonderland is quite simple: it allows its bearer to create anything he thinks to be a nonsense, something that is normally impossible. It could be seen as an area surrounding the user, in which he can create anything he wants, as long as it meets the proper requirements (being a "nonsense").

However, as the whole definition of "nonsense" depends on the user's mind, one could have a hard time creating anything. As such, what could be a nonsense to someone isn't necessarily one for Lewis. He is still quite a peculiar man after all.

A strange man, but with many restrictions on his mind and imagination. As he was forced to think with logic for the most part of his life now, he can't stop asking himself about the specifics of one’s question. Where a visible nonsense would occur, Lewis' mind would subconsciously ponder over what could make it truly real or impossible. If he can't get proper answers to those questions, then it can't happen either.

The beginning of their adventures

As they became much closer as people who somehow understood each other, Lewis began to be more friendly with the child, rather than looking like a mere adult talking to a little one. He saw himself in his struggles. He saw a young mind, much like his own a long time ago, slowly getting crushed by adult's expectations and limiting his own thoughts. He couldn't let the same thing happen twice when they still had a choice. So he encouraged him to get creative and let free of his imagination, with no worries about exterior opinions.

One day however, they suddenly got caught off guard by militaries sent by the french government as well as some members of the Order of the Clocktower, there to retrieve the unknown child for their own purpose instead. It was at that time that Lewis was finally able to make use of his ability once more after so many years. Inspired by Antoine’s naturally spoken nonsense, he unleashed Wonderland in order to escape. This also put a permanent stop to Lewis’ normal way of life, as he now was as searched for as Antoine was. It was time for a involuntary trip around the world, it seemed. But this time, Antoine wasn’t alone anymore.

[yxstxrdrxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Lyney has a patience of a saint, but he's had enough of this game of cat and mouse. This time, he wants you, and no one will stop him for getting what he wants. (2nd POV) [ IDENTITYV AU ]

TW/S: Yandere tendencies, stalking (he's chasing you), minor character death (other survivors died), emotional manipulation, Arle teaches him how to """metaphorically""" cut off someone's 'wings', ooc Lyney and Arle, gore, teeth, Lyney is unhinged

You couldn't remember what tipped him off. It could be from your actions, or it could be from what you said. Hell, it may as well be something that you unknowingly did that offended him— something that would normally not be a bother to him that became its own trigger.

Whatever it could be, you were in the other end of such a horrible fate. And alas, the last place you wished you didn't end up in had to be the one you loathed the most.

The eerie chimes of the bell echoing around the haunted town continued to plague your senses, followed by the faint meowing of the grin-malkin cats as you sprinted for your dear life.

You can hardly focus on what is there and isn't there, as all you had is to get the hell out of here and save this sinking match.

Your only task is to survive.

Survive the madness of the man that loved you in such a twisted, horrible way.

You were his rabbit, and Eversleeping Town was the location of his greatest show yet— a show that will capture not just your attention, but your own will.

Granted, the ever forgiving Illusionist made a simple deal— if you get out by any means necessary, be it the dungeon, exit gate, or, hell— even by completing the ciphers with your companions or saved by the Nightingale… He'll let you go.

However, should you go down, he would consider that as a win of his own, and that meant you cannot leave this forsaken match that you're under.

It's why you were prepared. You came with a companion or two that can assist you, even if it had its own drawbacks.

Alas, this did not stop the Knave from simply going after them first, leaving only 4 ciphers and the dungeon still hidden and closed from many prying eyes. You were clever to cover your tracks, but he is more so with removing the most trickiest companions yet.

…

Or, that's what many may think.

The Knave bas been taught from the best of the best— his "Father" has taught him of how to, in simpler terms, keep a bird from flying away in its cage.

Should Lyney need it, he needed to learn one crucial detail: he needed to learn just how to clip his beloved's wings first and keep them in his cage.

After all, if he had found a way to do such a thing… the outcome of the match will be nothing but predictable.

And the Knave thrives off of the uncertainty, and especially with being dubbed the Trickster of Eversleeping.

He'll let you off for now. He'll let you scurry around, trying and praying that he never catches wind of your antics.

After all, the moment he catches you, you will have to pray to whatever God you believed in that he feels nice enough to not take you down to his very grave.

"Now, Lyney," he could vaguely hear 'Father' speak as she handed him his cards. Gesturing right before them was the sight of someone bound in the chair. The magician stood as he saw the stranger shake and struggle, trying to say something under the gag.

"You must learn how to use your tricks to matters such as this. I'm sure it will be hard, but I have faith that you can do it."

He seemed rather hesitant to speak with how the fool was trying and failing to scream. To beg, even. It was a pathetic sight if Lyney didn't had morals... Which he had, much to 'Father's' chagrin.

Oh well. It wasn't as though having morals can be a bad thing. Maybe it was better, so she can use it to her advantage.

"Take this, Lyney."

She hands the young magician an item. One that can be used with just a bit of force.

"Now, let Father teach you how to clip a bird's wings. All you have to do is watch and follow my lead. You can do that, right?"

He turned his gaze to the taller woman, then to the item she handed to him. The sight of the iron and leather caught his attention, and especially with the ends of it's 'mouth' being bloodied.

Pliers.

He should've dropped it the moment he had it. He should have done that and not agree. It was brutal to harm another person, and he knew that.

... But his 'Father' would simply dangle the life of Lynette over his head. She could simply threaten to send Lynette off to a dangerous mission, especially one where dying is guaranteed.

Many have died, and Lyney was not a stranger to that.

However, his sister was special. She was the only one he had left, and she to him. Should she die, he didn't knew what he'd end up doing.

And so, with a deep breath, he nodded and faced his 'Father'.

"Yes, Father."

...

That day didn't end in a simple case of dental work.

But he learned how to 'clip' a person's wings in exchange.

Your chest began to heave as you traversed through the empty buildings of the town, fatigue catching up to you the more you spent running.

Although your legs ached and begged for a break, you continued running, feeling the rush from behind you— one from the grin-malkin cats.

Now, one can say that you thought covering your tracks was a skill you need to learn. And with that, you assumed it to be the case. However, you've yet to learn that it was better not to underestimate a hunter's skills.

A lesson that Lyney, a man whom you've helped when you were both survivors, would be more than happy to teach you.

As you vaulted over an open window, you felt the air grow harsh as it whipped you on your descent, your feet landing on the pavement. Feeling your muscles tighten, you grit your teeth and sprinted onwards.

Come on, I just need to get to the graveyard. I can lose him from there!

Alas, you were not gifted with the matter of stamina. Just as you've reached past the tracks of the tram, you could hear Lyney speak from behind you.

"Look at what we have here! Scurrying off, are we?"

And then, you felt it.

Pain.

The harsh hit from Rosseland, his cat, as you vaulted over the window leading to the land of tombstones sent you flying; your back soon collided with one of the worn headstones, making you groan in pain.

In the midst of your suffering, Lyney vaulted through the window, his purple eyes twinkling as he crouched down to look at you.

"My, my, my little rabbit," he tutted, chuckling as he watched you crawl away from him with no avail. "Haven't we made a deal? If you manage to escape this match, I'll let you go. But since you went down... I get to keep you. Do you remember that?"

... You kept your mouth shut.

"... [Name]," he said, his right hand reaching over to grab your neck. "Answer me. Do you remember what our agreement is?"

"... I do."

And yet it feels like it's stacked against me.

Coughing, you turned your head away from him. You didn't need to see his face to know that he was happy to hear your agreement to the matter.

"See? It isn't so hard to agree, now, is it?" he asked with a lit of his voice. "Now, my darling... Now that I have you, I'd like for you to answer a few questions for me."

Questions?

"... And if I refuse?"

Lyney laughed at that, but his voice was less composed. Perhaps it was more manic.

"Ahahahaha! What makes you think you're able to refuse, my little hare?" he asked, his eyes closed before reaching up to grab your chin. With an iron grip, he turned your head to him, his eyes open to face you with a chilling smile.

"I'd hate to have you toy with me like that. You know that, right?"

You wanted to say otherwise, but you were already incapacitated. If you ever decided to counter his claim, you knew that he would do worse than simply chairing you to one of the... Less than desirable chairs with rockets strapped onto them.

".. Fine," you breathed out. "I agree."

"Splendid," he said, pulling his gloved hand away to grab his hat. As he pulled it off of his head and turned it upside down, he reached his left to slip inside.

"Now, I don't want to you to force my hand. It's only a few questions that I want you to answer, and if you answer them truthfully... I may spare you by chairing you myself."

You didn't knew what that meant...

... Up until you saw a pair of pliers peek out from his hand, the dull gleam of iron greeting your horrified face.

"But if you lied, I'll have to resort to some more... Drastic measures."

The hours you two spent together was, in short, torture.

You couldn't count the amount of times that your teeth got yanked with those metal ones, the pain and blood gushing as you wailed.

You could count other ways that would be better than feeling metal graze and nick at them. You could've asked for simply to be drugged, to face death by his hands, to bleed onto the ground that he walked on.

However, death was not a fate worse than this. And Lyney— rather, the Lyney you see now, not the one you know of— was a man who had a manic streak hidden under that smile.

As he yanked the nineteenth tooth out of you, he turned his head down to see blood drip down and stain your clothes. He scowled and placed his pliers down with four teeth now on his right side, grabbing a handkerchief to wipe the blood away.

He knew it was pointless. You did, too.

Maybe it was a way to distract yourself from the pain, and for him to justify his actions in doing such a thing.

Alas, delusions can only take you so far, and pain is karma's many mistresses. One of many that everyone in the manor is familiar with, you and Lyney included.

"Shhh..."

He began to dab the cloth more as blood spilled and tainted the fabric, his smile empty of its sympathy for your decision to lie to him. All he could see before him was his darling, whose way, way too stubborn for his good.

And one that is good to make him lose his patience.

"I have warned you, haven't I?" he asked, his voice chilling yet sickeningly sweet while he pulled the handkerchief away. Tossing it to a direction he could care less to look, he grabbed another from his hat to continue his 'treatment'.

"If you had simply stayed truthful, you wouldn't have to loose your teeth! And yet, you didn't listen," he concluded, tutting as you sobbed and turned your head from him.

"I pity you, my dear hare. But it's the price to pay with how you didn't listen to my warnings."

When the blood stopped spilling, he placed the bloodied fabric and stared at his handiwork. From the answers he got from you, he was quite... Intrigued with what you told him.

"Now... I'm going to ask you one more time."

Grabbing the now bloodied pliers, he positioned it to your twentieth tooth, ignoring the sobs you let out and your gaze full of fear.

"Do you prefer my dear sister, Lynette?"

He could hear your breath heave as the metal 'teeth' of the pliers began to tighten.

However, the answer you gave him was interesting... Especially when you whispered out 'yes' with your greatest efforts.

...

"Is that so?"

He couldn't help but laugh. So, you do prefer Lynette, his sister... Over him? What a farce!

He may care for his sister to death, but he would rather have you than her survive to be his lifelong assistant.

Especially now that his 'Father' gave him the role of Knave, and how his siblings have been punished for trying to go against him and save that sorry excuse of magician. Himself.

"Ah, I see how it is," he said, his voice merely a wheeze as his hand shook. However, it went still and firm once more, and he gave you a lopsided smile.

"Do you remember what I've told you before, hm? Back when we were simply 'survivors' in this forsaken manor?"

Your body shook.

"Magicians generally do not reveal the core secrets behind their tricks," he said, his smile widening. "And especially if it concerns their heart. However, I may just revoke that if you call me 'Master Lyney' and swear to be my only assistant— and only me."

He could see that you were shaking even more, and the fear was what drove him mad. Alas, he knew that he might nick at your gums if he got too rough.

Not that you mind, right?

"I'm curious how much of it you'd understand," he concluded, leaning over to continue in a whisper.

"And how long you'd last, hehe~"

And thus, he yanked your twentieth tooth, causing your screams to erupt all through the barren town and the Illusionist to shiver in glee. He always enjoyed the thought of performing, but maybe he has lost it while staying here for so long.

Putting the pliers away, he hushed you and began to rock your body, uncaring of the sobbing and your blood staining his attire.

"I just wish to make a point. And I hope you understand that, my assistant."

Alas, the day cannot last forever. Lyney knew that, and it's why he decided to do one last trick.

Covering your eyes, he grabbed a crimson red handkerchief— one tainted with your blood— and covered your face. With a whisper, he pulled it away, leaning back to see his handiwork.

"And... Voila!"

He seemed rather smug as he saw teeth were back in your mouth, each one untainted and straight like new. Still, the damage was done, as you continued to sob and wail, begging for him to not do it again.

...

That day didn't end in a simple denture fix, that he's certain of.

But he utilized what 'Father' taught him all those years ago.

And that was good enough.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023

[silverskye13]

Cursed/turned into an animal Tanguish, make him actually a cat

"How do these things happen to you?" Helsknight asked, crouching down on the balls of his feet so he was closer to Tanguish's level. Closer, but not on his level, as Tanguish, by some clever, terrible miracle, had been transformed into a cat. He was a handsome enough little creature, all blue-black, with a handful of sparse white hairs that salted his back and shoulders. But there was a large difference between handsome little cat and the full helsmet he was supposed to be, and Tanguish was, understandably, he thought, upset about his current circumstances. Even more upset now, given Helsknight seemed incapable of taking it seriously. "No really, I'd like to know. If I make an offering to whatever god or saint you pissed off, they might pass me over."

Oh haha, very funny, Tanguish said. Or he tried to say. What actually came out of his cat-shaped mouth, which made itself unavailable to forming human words, was a string of yowls that conveyed vague allusions to indignation. His fur spiked up his back for good measure, and he flattened his ears, just in case Helsknight needed the extra hint.

"I don't speak cat," Helsknight informed him helpfully, crossing his arms on his knees and raising his eyebrows in an amused expression. "You know, I've always been more of a dog person. Matches my aesthetic better. Do you think you could shape shift into something a little more intimidating? Even a large cat would do. You're a bit too scrawny and gangled, if I'm being honest."

Tanguish rumbled back a growl that he hoped would sound fierce and insulted.

"I'm terrified, truly," Helsknight informed him patronizingly. "Would a sardine help soothe your temper, O Mighty Feline? Maybe some cream?"

Tanguish swatted at him, tiny, impotent claws raking across Helsknight's boot.

"Hey now, be grateful," Helsknight tsked disdainfully. "Cream and sardines are an expensive find in hels. Probably worth your tiny cat weight in diamonds."

Tanguish huffed a sigh out of his nose, and then sneezed when the sensation tickled his whiskers. He was still getting used to whiskers. A tail and claws he was used to. The eyes weren't so good as his sculk sight, but not so different that it took a lot of adjusting. No, it was the whiskers that made his body feel the most awkward, little strings attached to his face that made him feel like he was constantly in danger of getting stuck somewhere, only to realize no, he'd just walked a little too close to a wall. It was his whiskers that told him, while he pawed miserably at his nose, that Helsknight had reached for him. Before he could jump away, Helsknight had picked him up by the scruff and tossed him on a pauldroned shoulder like he was nothing.

"So I guess we'll start with a quick prayer to my Saint," Helsknight sighed, "and then we'll start visiting alters until some priest comes up with a solution. Have you tried respawning yet? No, don't hiss at me. I don't know what that means. Just meow once for yes and do that weird growl-thing for no. So have you tried-- no, didn't think so. Put the claws back Tanguish, I'm not going to kill you. Killing cats is bad luck."

Tanguish snorted indignantly again, and then sneezed again, and at least got some satisfaction at the disgusted look Helsknight flashed in his direction.

"Sneeze somewhere other than my ear next time please."

Tanguish growled.

"I'm sorry, was that a no?"

He meowed brightly.

"You know, you've got at least nine lives. I'm sure my Saint will forgive me if I wring one out of you."

Tanguish swatted him on the side of the face. If Helsknight was bothered, he didn't show it. Instead he walked off down the street, clearly intent on his plan that Tanguish was sure wouldn't work, but they might as well try. Under his breath Helsknight hummed:

"There's an old poem about cats and monks. Can't really remember the lyrics. Something like... Pangur, white Pangur."

Helsknight chuckled.

"Tanguish, O Tanguish, how happy we are. Alone together, warrior and cat."

Tanguish settled down on the knight's shoulder, tail held out stubbornly for balance as he strolled down the street. He had to dig his claws in to Helsknight's cape to keep from falling off, but at least if was warm place to sit.

"Each has his own work to do daily; For you it is hunting, for me, slaying. Your shining eye watches the wall; My fair eye is fixed on a blade. You rejoice when your claws entrap a mouse; I rejoice when my mind fathoms a problem. Pleased with his own art neither hinders the other; Thus we live ever without tedium and envy. Tanguish, O Tanguish, how happy we are, alone together, warrior and-- are you purring? That's hilarious."

Tanguish, who hadn't realized he was purring, stopped abruptly, feeling vaguely betrayed by his own contentment. He swatted Helsknight's face, careful to keep his claws sheathed.

"What? It's not my fault you can't keep your little cat noises to yourself -- stop swatting at me! That's rude. Do it again and you can run your little paws off through town all on your own."

[crusty-chronicles]

Airheaded S/O Headcannons #9: Hiei (Yu Yu Hakusho)

He wants you dead at first

But that's just because he's a bit standoffish

You'd waltzed in right as he had Yusuke suspended in his clutches at a warehouse.

"Yusuke, you left your calc homework on your desk, you ditz!"

And then you looked up and saw the three eyed demon and your friend.

And he was a little shocked that a human had found his hideout, even with his manipulated spirit energy.

"Kinda in the middle of something here," the greasy haired boy responded.

"Well cut that out for a second. I've got places to be."

Like you weren't just witnessing him about to be killed

It was so baffling how you just completely dismissed the situation, that Hiei's powers actually faltered and let the detective get away.

What the actual hell????

"Get out of here, now!" Yusuke warned.

And you'd just frowned

"Dude, it's not that deep. Why are you even here?"

Now was Hiei's chance to attack

But when he disappeared and quickly reappeared behind with his sword raised, you just caught the blade and glared at him

"Can you back off, I'm trying to talk to my friend."

You shooed him away like a pest.

And that was the moment he decided he wanted you dead.

A strong believer in survival of the fittest

And what the hell, because you had not a single working brain cell but were somehow stronger than him????

Kuwabara is your best friend and the two of you combined are stupid²

And it's horrible because there's only so much stupidity Hiei can take.

During the time he's still conforming after being caught, he spends most of it in the human world scouting you out for any weaknesses.

He still holds a grudge from the first time you met

But he's so damn surprised to find out that you're a walking hazard

How does one leave the stove, microwave, and oven on?

How does one forget that they're all on at the same time????

It would be so easy to let your own recklessness kill you

But his damn pride won't let that happen because he wants to be the one that defeats you

So, you wake up from your nap to see all your appliances turned off

Which is surprising because you vaguely remember cooking something before you feel asleep.

You do earn his respect eventually

It's when Yusuke is tasked with defeating the Saint Beasts

All of you were struggling to keep the roof up from collapsing

Yusuke had suggested Hiei be the one to pull the lever because he was the fastest.

And you'd said something then. Something that made him not want to kill you anymore.

"I might be able to hold the whole thing by myself. You all have to be really fast though."

"Are you crazy?!? There's no way we're gonna leave you behind. We're in this together or not at all," the oaf had protested.

You gave a dopey smile and released all your spirit energy at once, lifting the ceiling with all your might and alleviating the pressure from all the others.

"You scared, Kuwabara? People die everyday. What's one more?"

Hiei had never moved as fast as he did when he pulled that lever down.

You were a fool for risking your life over the others.

A fool for wasting your power on the weak.

But you weren't scared of death, of dying for your morals

And that had his respect.

Hiei does not baby you and finds great amusement in your failures

After all, you're not his responsibility

You accidentally got captured by a demon?

Good luck to whatever idiot thought they'd last more than a minute in the same room as you

You swallowed a poisonous plant Kurama was growing because you were hungry?

That's what you get for giving into your human whims

You threw a punch at an enemy that missed and hit Yusuke instead?

You should've hit him harder

Uses your naivety to his advantage

The tape with Yukina?

You'd told him without much thought about the situation

Only for Hiei to drag you towards where she was being held captive.

"Ooh, where are we going?"

"Just quiet down and follow me, human."

It's because you can sense spirit energy a little better than he can.

That and if he's spotted, he can just pass it off as you dragging him along to see Kuwabara.

Surprisingly, you're quiet and don't make a sound that gets the two of you caught.

And maybe he's a little grateful you don't question him about it.

You don't question why he wants to save this girl you've never heard of up until a few days ago.

You just go along with it because 'We're friends.'

You're so stupid for trusting him that easily when he wanted so badly to kill you not long ago

So unbelievably stupid for following around a demon just cuz

You had a fool's heart, that was for sure.

You were a trustworthy ally during the Dark Tournament, a strong warrior during the battle with Sensui, and a true fighter during the demon tournament.

It's the last event that he realizes he values you a little more than he should.

He had just barely beaten Mukuro and was set to fight you next.

The thing was, Hiei could barley stand with his injuries, while you hadn't broken a sweat.

This was the one fight he looked forward to the most, besides the one he wanted with the spirit detective.

But there was this look on your face

An uncomfortable yet sorrowful look.

Why weren't you as excited as he was?

He shrugged the feeling off as the announcer told them to begin.

His sword was long destroyed, so he resorted to basic combat skills instead.

He lunged, fist clenched to hit, but you just dodged with that same look

He tried again and the result was the same

You didn't even try to block his attacks, just moved out of the way.

Like he was beneath you to even try.

He recognized the look now

It was pity

And that infuriated him.

"Why won't you fight back!" A kick aimed for your side.

"You think you're so-called friendship matters here? Your emotions mean nothing. Not in here. So quit acting like a fool and fight!" A punch aimed at your throat.

You stopped it this time, but didn't attack him back.

You were making a fool out of him.

And before he could berate you again, you spoke.

"I don't care if we're friends or not. Either way, the fight still isn't fair."

And that had temporarily halted his anger.

"What do I gain from beating someone so injured, they can't stand up? What do you gain from fighting when you have no power? Think about it."

You didn't want to fight because you wouldn't enjoy it?

It wouldn't be a win for you

"It's not fair to either of us if we fight like this. We'd never get to find out who's really stronger."

Hiei was the fool.

He'd lashed out at Mukuro for letting her feelings get in the way and here he was, doing the same.

Letting his pride get in the way of rational thought

He'd been the one to get upset that you weren't fighting him as an equal, when the condition he was in clearly said otherwise.

"I know you don't want to lose the tournament, so I quit. But I want you to heal up and get stronger. Don't die because next time I see you, I'll kick your ass the way you want. Got it?"

Don't die

You and that oaf shared the same moral code.

But something about it being you made him tolerate it.

"...I surrender. I'm in no shape to continue. Y/n, you better not hold back next time."

Much to the dismay of the audience, the two of you walked back together. The outcome of the match: no winner.

There was something for him to look forward to now. A new goal.

He'd surpass you and then Yusuke.

Following the events of the demon tournament, he's a little softer towards you.

You and that stupid human heart of yours had him observing you from the trees.

He was unused to the heaviness he felt seeing you visit Yukina and making her laugh.

He couldn't understand the warmth consuming his face when you would fight a stray demon and win.

He didn't know why he used his Jagan to see you while he was in demon world.

But he did know he didn't like seeing you and the idiot duo hanging off of each other, cackling at something one of them said.

Don't count on him acting on his feelings.

He would never tell you.

But his actions towards you are more than enough to let the others know you're his.

He calls you fool(derogatory) and if he's feeling sweet, just by your name.

Jealousy is a big one.

Hiei's never had something special he's been allowed to keep.

So if you're spending a little too much time with Kuwabara, don't be surprised to see him at your window the next day.

He'll deny to his dying breath that he came all the way from demon world just to see you.

He'll also deny leaving some of his own clothing or even his sword at your house just so it smells more like him than it does your (just as stupid) best friend.

Hiei leaves for months at a time and without fail, will always come back the day after you went crying to Kurama that you think he's died.

(Thanks to his Jagan that is. There isn't a day he doesn't check up on you so he's bound to know when you miss him.)

Kurama is his best friend, but that doesn't stop Hiei from getting upset when he comes to get you and sees you sound asleep on the fox's bed.

You just smell so much like the other demon now, it pisses him off.

"Keep your scent off my human."

And Kurama finds immense joy in his childish anger.

"Maybe if you would physically see them more, they wouldn't come by so often."

And Hiei's grumbling as he picks you up, still dead asleep, to bring you back to the home that would restore his own scent back on you.

The time spent when you wake up is for sparring.

He can't find it in him anymore to fight you for real

But that doesn't mean he won't enjoy the false matches you have with each other.

He refuses to take you with him to demon world.

You have a life here

And though it's tempting to take you where you wouldn't be very far away from him, he knows you wouldn't be happy away from everyone else.

So, the one and only thing he does that hints at his feelings for you is give you the makeshift necklace made from hiruiseki stone. His to be exact.

"Take it."

"Why?" Your small little brain was struggling to figure out why he would want you to have it.

"It represents a promise. A promise that I'll be back for you no matter what. So take care of it for me, human."

NEXT UP: Kurapika Kurta

MASTERLIST

An: Yall sorry it took so long, i deadass got sick last week.

[snowleopardcrk]

I remember, will you?

From the deep shadows of the tree line, tears reflected the sunlight like little rain droplets. Moonflower Cookie stared at the vague outline of the figure, the little wings on its back and that large hat with spikes for rims. She stood in an open field, staring at him directly with her only functional eye left. Spirits of the dead loomed in the corner of her eye, staring back at the saint. Their whispers numerous, warning her about the saints presence like chirping birds. Yet Saint Vanilla only stared back, his eyes now open. "Moonflower Cookie...There you are, I've missed you." The Saint Vanilla chirped. His little smile, a crude mockery- a shell of a Cookie. "I'm not coming back. Not even a saint like you could...Save my soul." She shrugged, the grass and flowers beneath her feet already wilting and dying- the life being drained out of them. Small patches of iridescent black snake scales forming on her dough. "Why do you believe that? Even if my current methods do not suffice, they eventually will." He commented, not letting her out of his sight. She simply stared, her eyes blank- she pondered silently to herself, the dead spirits around her whispering her various disapprovals, most condemning the saint. But some, praise him. "Even if so, why would I? In your first attempt, you hurt me. I have no reason to offer you my trust." She crossed her arms, her lips in a snarl. "I will only do so if I am fully certain my methods will work." He reassured. She could only shake her head. "Even at our best to help the world, many will always be hurt." She began running her hand across the scarring on the right side of her face. "You did this. Your actions; your choices." She paused, closing her eyes. "All those I helped are now in a better place, I only want the best for you... Like I always have." Saint Vanilla Cookie stepped onto the field and slowly approached her. "If you wanted the best for me, you would've asked what I wanted. So, did you ask me?" She questioned. The saint came to a halt, his eyes now closed- she swore his tears fell faster. The wilt slowly spreading more and more. She frowned. He stayed in place- so did she. "...I'm sorry for not being there when you needed me most. We both witnessed the other ancients fall into their own corruption and did nothing." She glanced at the setting sun behind her, the dying field rapidly falling into darkness.

"You are no better than the rest of us." "No matter how much you purify the world; you cannot undo the taint upon yourself."

Moonflower Cookie disappeared in a blink of an eye. The Saint stood there, still unwavering. He turned back and walked towards the forest from where he came.

======

BAAU by @cuppajj

Authors Note: I'm still researching various religious themes n' stuff, so there will be major changes to Moonflower Cookie; both design and story wise to fit into the Saints religious themes of his own arc. Whenever I figure it out!

Also, Team Stardust (we win)

[synthetickitsune]

Jun (Seventeen) | I don't understand but I love you

angst/comfort | 0.7k | gn!reader

A/N: This is a birthday gift from myself to myself so it doesn't matter if it doesn't make sense to anyone else 🤍

Listening to your friends telling the story of the dinner they went to on their last date, you can't help but wonder how much time you have left in your own relationship. You don't show it, long since used to it by now. They talk about the roses, the champagne, the kissing under the stars and sharing an umbrella when it started raining. They look so lovesick talking about how their hands always seem to find each other. You feel the itch to start bouncing your leg again under the table.

But Jun stretches and throws his arm around your shoulders while his other hand finds its place on your knee, even if the position must be uncomfortable. When your friends get lost in each other's eyes and start arguing in whispers against each other's lips, Jun turns to you and checks on you with a smile. You nod and lean into him. 

You can't help but wonder if it feels much different to them - your friends, him - than it does to you. It feels warm, comfortable. It makes you feel safe and protected. Like you're worth keeping by his side. Is that not enough? Is something missing?

The attention is turned on you, and the second couple starts asking questions about your relationship. You're grateful when Jun starts answering immediately. He's so beautiful - his eyes spark with excitement as he talks about your recent hiking trip. Well, the way to the actual hiking place, and how you kept going back and forth on the discourse about the comic you were both reading at the same time. He is almost vibrating in his seat with glee when he tells them that neither of you dropped the water bottle once when you threw it to the other.

You manage to swallow the lump in your throat to tell them about the one crow who seemed to follow you the entire way up, talking to itself. Jun does jump slightly at that, doing a perfect recreation of the bird's behavior. He seems relieved when you laugh, and he pulls you close enough to kiss your forehead. You can't see but you know by the way your friend's boyfriend opens and closes his mouth that Jun gave them a look. 

You might just ____ him for that but your brain is too bitter to form that word.

And Jun is a saint because when you get home, he pulls you into his arms without saying a word and just holds you. He kisses the top of your head and nudges your nose with his. You understand well the slight tilt of his lips, but he says it anyway: "It's enough."

"What we have is enough," he whispers as he cups your cheek and pecks your lips, "I don't want anything else."

"You don't want... That?" you vaguely motion with your head as if nodding towards your friends, long gone to their own home. The stereotypical couple, the conventional lovers.

"I want to be happy with you" he smiles, and you smile too. You both know just how happy you are together. The relationship is all you could ask for. But it might be only a question of time before it's no longer that for Junhui.

"We talked about this. A lot," he reminds you, not unkindly, "Our feelings are all that matters. I feel loved. And I know I am."

"Wouldn't it feel better if I was like everyone?" you mumble, whisper, through your doubts. It's not like you know what it's like. Your feelings towards Jun are strong and warm. You want to spend time with him, you want to support him and cry when he cries. He's who you think about the most. He's more than your best friend. But the feeling never changed.

"It already feels like eating a delicious hotpot on a cold winter day. Remember? How it warms you from inside and fills you and it feels so comfortable you could just fall asleep happy? There's no better feeling."

You laugh, shaking your head as you hide your face into his chest. Leave it to Jun to reassure in a perfect way that doesn't feel uncomfortable or like an empty promise.

"I don't understand but I love you."

"I know. That's all I need."

[quuerbee]

Just saw a picture of divine dragon chung myung before he got that title and it really hit me how small Cho Sam's body was when chung myung came back. This little thought has spoilers for chapter 400+ (I think anyway) and vague spoilers for everything past ch 400 until like. Ch 800

GOD OK so we as the reader understand chung myungs situation very very intimately. WE understand that he is an 80+ year old man mentally. WE understand that he is not in fact 15, then 17, then 19, 20, etc. Everyone around him, however, truly believe that he is those ages.

It's brushed upon multiple times throughout the novel, especially whenever chung myung is down for the count/recovering after a fight. The facade he makes around himself, the strong reliable leader, fades away and the "truth" of who he is reinstates itself to those close to him in this second life. His back, every time he wavers, is described as small. This is always through the perspective of anyone but himself. This is even more apparent whenever he is unconscious after a serious fight. I don't know exactly chapters, but i KNOW that baek cheon (and the rest of the 5 swords plus soso and hye yeon), at least once, has had the reality of Chung myungs apparent age dawn upon them. That they're youngest sajae (sahyung in soso's case) is constantly spilling his own blood to protect them. (This fact is straight up said by yu iseol after the particularly bad fight with Jang ilso, spitting her frustration with only getting in chung myungs way instead of protecting him).

This phenomenon is hardly limited to the main group of disciples. After the first myriad men siege on Mount hua (while The Gang is in Xian), everyone subconsciously gains courage with the thought that soon enough chung myung will come, that he'll protect them. The disciples (soso being the most prevalent since she's one of the main disciples focused on in the novel) of course correct this thought, realizing that they cannot rely on chung myung forever. Anyways moving on from just describing this arc. What I mainly want to focus on is Hyun jong and chung myungs interaction AFTER the siege is finished, after un gum is fresh off of his amputation, after chung myung has barely gotten treatment for his own (quite serious) injuries.

What do you think when through Hyun jong's mind, seeing his youngest disciple, the one who brought back the hope that had almost died out with his sect, ruthlessly kill the enemy, return heavily wounded, and then try to sneak out almost immediately to go back to smite those who have harmed his home? To us, Chung myung is more than capable. He's the plum blossom sword Saint, the one who (even with all the regret he holds over this) severed the head of the heavenly demon. He's an 80+ year old man trying to protect the only thing besides bloodshed that is familiar in this second life. We understand the guilt he has over not being able to protect his home the first time. We understand that he would rather die than allow Mount Hua to fall again.

Hyun jong does not know this. He does not understand chung myungs rage (and guilt and grief and longing and-). He looks at chung myung and sees an 18 or 19 (I don't remember) year old boy, covered in wounds, trying to sneak out of his home on a suicide mission of revenge. He sees a boy. He knows that if he let's this boy go, he will never see him alive again. So he uses chung myungs borderline (who are we kidding, it is way past borderline) unhealthy loyalty with mount hua to dissuade him from walking to his death.

ANYWAYS long story not so short, I need need need more analysis over what everyone but chung myung thinks about him. Everyone sees this young teen, then young adult, bend over backwards to the point where he has almost died so so so many times just so mount hua can flourish. They've seen him kill ruthlessly, they've seen him sob over the skeleton of an ancestor (one of his brothers, a reminder of what he has lost, what he will never get back), they've seen him silly and carefree, they've seen him almost mad with bloodlust.

To us, he is chung myung, the old plum blossom sword Saint, slayer of the heavenly demon. To them, he is chung myung, the scrawny 15 year old that changed their lives, that faces unknown traumas, that has had a life so, so unkind to him.

Sometimes I look at chung myung pre time skip, how small he is, how he looks like a child, how he acts nothing like one, and remember that only we, the readers, get the full context behind his actions.

[jannikovgenosse]

I don't think it's a revolutionary take on this site to point out that the Walter guy from Breaking Bad isn't exactly a saint. Sexual assault, blowing up several buildings, manipulating most of the people around him, the list goes on...

That having been said, I still get very annoyed by Breaking Bad fans who cannot fathom the concept of him having vaguely redeeming qualities. Like I swear to god, they need to read EVERY SINGLE decent thing he does in the least favorable light imaginable.

Walt goes to rescue Jesse from the slums - "It's akshually because his pride is insulted by Jesse being in such a place."

Walt risks his life and ruins his entire relationship with Gus to save Jesse - "Walt only did this to calm his own guilt!!"

Walt offers Jack all 80 million dollars of his money to save Hank - "It was akshually just to preserve his self-image as a family man, his ego couldn't handle anything else!!!"

You could do the exact same shit with Jesse or Mike, but because they're the fanbases 'UwU softboys' they escape this treatment.

And NO, for the record, this does not mean i think every character in Breaking Bad is on the same level morally. Waltuh's absolutely a darker shade of grey, it's just worth remembering that there is more to the guy than just 'evil super abuser who consistently hates everyone other than himself".

[coolbeesbro]

Sinners and Fallen Saints Update!

I was originally planning to have chapter 6 uploaded by last night, but it ended up being much longer than I expected (almost at 5000 words right now) and I'm only about 1/2-2/3 of the way through! I'm hoping to have it done and posted some time this week though! Until then, here's a small excerpt!

Chapter Title: Old Man Yaoi? Niffty No.

Consciousness came to Lucifer slowly; curled up in a space that wasn’t his large and luxurious bed, head resting at an uncomfortable angle on something stiff and solid. Slowley, he blinked his eyes open and let out a large, sleepy yawn. 

This wasn’t his room, and this wasn’t a bed he was sleeping on. The King of Hell let out a miserable groan as he shifted in the armchair he didn’t remember falling asleep in; his fingers gripping a plush red throw blanket as he pulled it further around himself and curled up tighter, face now buried against the back of the chair. It didn’t matter that this was the most uncomfortable place he’d probably ever slept in, he just wanted 5 more minutes. 

Somewhere through the few hours he’d been asleep in Alastor’s strange sitting room, he’d managed to get tangled in his robe; which in turn bunched up his pajama shirt around his chest and armpits. Between the 3 layers of fabric, his body was warm and uncomfortably clammy. Every part of this situation was not ideal; leaving Lucifer to wonder what he was doing with his life. 

Bits and pieces of his conversation with Alastor last night were coming to him; and muddled with the delirium of exhaustion and the vague memory of the dream he had, he was questioning what was and wasn’t said.

Did Alastor tell him he was a vegetarian, and wanted to open up Hell’s first ever fully vegetarian Cat Cafe? There was this cookbook he pulled out of who knows where, full of vegetarian based recipes passed down from his grandfather to his father, then to him? A family tradition full of veggie frittatas and cranberry walnut pancakes?

Wait no, Alastor hated his dad, so the Cat Cafe was definitely a dream. Which was a bit of a relief because Lucifer didn’t want to debate the ethics of feeding cats a vegetarian diet. 

Oh and also Alastor ate people, so that might have been his first que to the authenticity of the idea. Definitely nothing vegetarian about that. 

Lucifer had to consciously stop himself from snickering at the thought that Alastor would be anything but a psychopath. The guy had a hotel resident fully bound to a chair last night for an interrogation. Even going so far as to play light jazz music for some sort of serial killer ambiance. But then again,  Lucifer was also a participant of the incident, so what did that make him?

Damn.

The King of Hell cracked his eyes open once more, training them on the red cretonne upholstery his face was pressed up against. He used the knuckle of his pointer finger to trace over the dips and loops of the gold flowery pattern, the smooth embroidered design feeling ever so slightly different from the rest of the thick fabric. Doing anything and everything but getting up and going to his own room to get ready for the day. 

His ears picked up the sound of a door opening from up above, followed by heeled shoes coming down steps, making Lucifer still his movements. 

“Ok you’ve been out long enough.” Alastor chastised under his breath as he approached the chair the King of Hell was curled up on. The lights in the room flipped on, assaulting his tired eyes with bright warm orange light, “Come on, up up up.” Alastor commanded, clapping his hands loudly.

“Nooo…” Lucifer’s voice was muffled against the back of the seat.

“No whining like a child.” Alastor’s said as the radio on the bookshelf next to him turned on, and Katie Killjoy’s sarcastic voice began to prattle through the crackly speakers:

“—gas station caught fire due to the negligence of a dickhead smoking at the pump. Local crackhead, Morison Morris, says he was there just getting a .98$ coffee at the time of the event.”

“I guess you could say his morning was off to an explosive start!”

“Shut the fuck up Tom—”

Irritably, Lucifer peered over the armrest at the radio and grumbled, “Please stop.” And the radio did just that. Thank you Alastor for the fun new power he held.

“Oh and I bet you think you’re rather cheeky.” Alastor said in a mock-congratulatory tone, “But really, it's 7:30am and Charlie expects us down at 8am sharp for the start of today's activities.”

Lucifer let out a long, tired sigh, “Just 5 more minutes.” He complained, not really registering the words coming out of Alastor’s mouth.

“As flattered as I am that you seem to be so dedicated to staying in my room, you need to get up and go to your own to get ready.”

“Fine fine, I’m up.” He grumbled miserably as he righted himself,  “When did I even fall asleep?” 

“Some time around 4:13am, I believe. Mid sentence you passed out, I was very impressed.” Alastor went on as he watched Lucifer close his eyes and slouch back in the chair, the King of Hell frowning deeply. Alastor walked over to chair Lucifer was still seated miserably in and took the plush red throw blanket off him in one fell swoop, all but pulling Lucifer off the chair and stumbling on his feet, “You now have less than 25 minutes to get to your room, get dressed and be down in the lounge before Charlie starts the day off without you.” He stated as he folded up the blanket and set it on the other seat.

It finally registered in his brain how little time he actually had, Lucifer frantically searched for his slippers— “They’re by the door, now shoo.” Alastor grabbed the shorter man by the shoulders and pushed him in the right direction.

Lucifer jammed his feet into the slippers before swinging open the door to make his leave; and as he dead-sprinted down the hall, he didn’t notice their resident housekeeper by Alastor’s door inspecting the fresh new claw marks carved into the carpet. Niffty, however, noticed him running and completely disheveled in his nightwhere. 

Her interest in the claw marks dragging back to Alastor’s door was now gone, and in its place grew gleeful speculation over what Lucifer was doing spending the night with Alastor. As her large red and yellow eye watched the King of Hell stumble over his slippers, almost face planting in the hallway before catching himself again and continuing his sprint, she let out a devious giggle before running back down the other way and crawling into an open air vent she’d scurried out of originally. Her quickest form of transportation.

[theminecraftbee]

hello second theminecraftbee would you be amenable to discussing 'in deference to saint george' ?

if so, here are some questions I had after reading it! it was an excellent fic and you did a great job :D

1. reasoning for the title? how did you come to pick it? (also, just a note but: after a quick google of saint george, he appears to have some dragon symbolism attached to him, as well as having been in an army). (also I love all your fic titles. they're so tastey and I want to stick all of them into a blender and pour it into my morning cereal. carrows in particular tickles my brain).

2. any backstory to picking the names for the characters?

3. what gave you the idea for superball's powers? its a very unique and interesting powerset and application.

4. I'm seeing a parallel or two thematically between this fic and carrows. just an observation but yeah

5. as for worldbuilding, what exactly is an outsider? what exactly is the grey factor?

6. I like how you got into the politics of having 'villains' and 'other people' not a question but a nice comment

I probably had more questions but I can't remember and also this is quite a few already. again, excellent job on the fic.

I’D LOVE TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS you have no idea how much I have wanted to talk about this fic! so I will answer them in order!!!

FIRST! saint george as a symbol here is SPECIFICALLY in reference to the thing I, a person who grew up vaguely episcopalian and don’t know anything about saints, know him for: he slayed a dragon. it’s a famous legend about him! a town had a dragon nearby threatening them, and to protect the town, saint george slays that dragon, its in a lot of medieval art and such. so the title means something like “I am conceding to the prior example of a dragon slayer”, or symbolically, refers to the idea that the story is of a relationship that was always kind of doomed by nature; there is a dragon, and there is a hero, and there is one way that story has gone for a long time.

SECOND! no they mostly came to me in a vision, my main goal was “they sound like something you’d hear in a comic book” and also “the dragon’s name has to not sound particularly like any real-world name on account of him being an alien from another dimension”. and I just kind of liked que, so que it was! the rest were all meant to invoke like, you know, comic-book-y vibes, as well as the general texture of the city.

THIRD! I think I came up with the idea of a superhero named superball while I was initially brainstorming for the fic; i worked from there fore the specific power. the fic changed shapes A LOT (it was originally a lot more cynical before I went “actually fuck that” and entirely reworked my outline) but the idea of “bouncy superhero named superball” remained. the other powers were built from there; I knew I wanted the villain to be a dragon, and then I wanted to fill out the superhero team with a somewhat “typical” feeling early hero team roster, you know?

FOURTH! yeah, I can see that! I think the biggest difference in the two fics’ themes of self-sacrifice is that joe actively uses his support network while perhaps jack’s most notable and devastating character flaw is that he is incapable of seeing that he has one. difference in the finales between “will you hold my hand?” “always” and “I don’t want this either” “I know”, you know?

FIFTH! outsiders are people from other dimensions! they come in several camps—members of the grey army, fleeing criminals, and people fleeing the grey army or the destruction of their homeworlds. the grey army is a terrifying distant threat that the story of superball here is actually too early in its comics timeline to face! but que explains enough of THEIR motivations. as for grey factor: comic book wobbly explanation for why people have powers! outsiders normally have them, members of the grey army always have them, humans only very rarely have them as of the time of the fic’s plot. according to the grey army they originate from paradise, but not everyone actually believes this. in my head more and more humans would start to get them the longer more visitors come to earth. so… yeah!

SIXTH! so I was playing with a lot of my personal favorite tropes of people doing hero fics, both in playing it straight and subversion. and ONE OF THOSE is “what do people THINK of superheroes”. my twist is “what do people think of superheroes except this whole business is still rather new, only having appeared in the past few years”, so I was playing out the debates as though much of this was a new idea! I’m glad you liked it!

thank you SO MUCH for the questions I’m enjoying talking!

[thefalseapp]

Wraith Wrath - Chapter III

Inej wasn’t surprised that he was able to find her and her crew a place to stay so quickly. What she didn’t expect, however, was the name of the building he bought. Sanktum. Kaz Brekker, the one who loved to annoy her so much with his snarky remarks about her faith had called an entire establishment, which happened to be across the street from the Crow Club, Sanktum. Was this a joke? A small jab in the ribs for good fun? Or a key piece in one of his giant schemes? All he said, while vaguely pointing at all Inej’s knives, was that, at least, her Saints would have an appropriate place to rest. 

The tavern was humble. The decoration was minimalist and modest. A few nods to crows were to be found in the tapestries and some ornaments, undoubtedly to make sure people were aware of who was the owner of this place. But a proper and respectable accommodation nonetheless which is a bit ironic in the Barrel and surely must have raised a few eyebrows. Even she was skeptical until a couple of rats ran into the lobby up to the stairs. Well, that’s more like it. The ground floor was packed. It was loud and people were rushing in and out. Most of them ended up stumbling toward the Crow Club, with the help of skilled steerers. Drunk, jolly, well-fed, and ready to spend the rest of their day gambling with what they have left in their pockets. One will be fool enough to doubt Kaz’s pragmatism. On the first floor, the rooms were small but more than enough for people who had spent the last two years sleeping in hammocks stacked on top of each other. As for the top floor, most of the walls had been destroyed, enough to give a sense of space but not too much for privacy. On her right, as she opened the door, she found a tiny desk, and on her left an armchair in the corner next to the window. She advanced a little bit further and discovered a tiny bathroom. 

At the very end of the room, Inej found a four-poster bed with velvet curtains. This kind of luxury was extremely hard to find around here. It felt too much. Almost out of place. 

She sat on it and remembered the last time she felt this way. Too much. Out of place. 

Inej had said goodbye to her parents after only two weeks with them. She was more than overjoyed with their reunion. But the dreadful shadow of her past since her capture kept her from thoroughly enjoying it. Her parents had an idea of what had happened. Even though they were loving, caring, and comprehensive, there were still a lot of things they didn’t know about. Things that Inej couldn’t allow herself to say out loud. They didn’t need to hear this. To be haunted by the same ghosts as she was. 

Certain words, smells, or pieces of clothing were enough to trigger her. She had dreamed so many times to be back with her family. Like nothing had happened to her. But she knew since the heist at the Ice Court that it wasn’t possible anymore. That she was different now. She couldn’t deny it or hide it from herself. She could either run from things or face them. Yet, every time they looked at her, she felt her skin shrink almost like she squeezed herself into an old leotard that no longer fit her frame. And she refused to let her parents see what was truly under. 

So the first stop she made with The Wraith was in Ravka to let her parents go back to their lives while she continued her journey on her own. She swiftly encountered Nina there and they promised to write to each other as much as they could before their next reunion. She remembered Nina looking devastated and lost but still able to fake a smile. Between Matthias’ loss, her new powers, the pressure, and the startled look from her comrades, it must have been incredibly tough for her. Still, her eyes had a spark in them. They were glistening with hope. Hope she could change things. Truth is, she wasn’t going to change things. She was going to shake the world upside down and he will be better for it. 

Everything they endured made Inej who she was today; all she could do now was move forward. Find a new purpose and a new meaning to her life. And she found it at sea. She belonged where the sky and sea met and melted into each other until the horizon vanished and they became one. It made her feel like she was floating and flying at the same time. 

With a sigh, she finally lay down on the duvet covers. Her eyes caught the delicate golden threads forming little stars on the midnight blue curtains of the bed. It was beautiful. 

She let her mind wander again. She didn’t know if she should talk to Kaz about the real reason that led her here. On one hand, informing Kaz of a threat in his city would be the right thing to do. But, she knew that Kaz wouldn’t let her do what she had to do on her own. She might be Captain Ghafa at sea but, here, in Ketterdam, he was King. 

The sudden change in the atmosphere of the foyer alerted Inej of Kaz’s presence before a blow on the door with the carved crow head of a cane could. 

It appeared to her that she must be the only one not to see Kaz Brekker at her door as a bad omen. 

She jumped off the bed and made her way to the door. When she opened it, his amber eyes met hers directly this time. They glimmered in the sunlight that came from behind her, catching the rays like precious gemstones. He surely stole those as well. From either his mother or his father, she didn’t know. Thief. 

She turned around and settled into the armchair while Kaz stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. His eyes darted from one point to another without ever settling on anything for more than a fleeting moment.

She knew that despite his ability to blend seamlessly into any environment while wearing his confidence like a cloak, he was never truly at ease unless he was in control. And yet, in that moment, she couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, just perhaps, she held a small piece of that control herself. 

As they stood together in the quiet solitude of the room, Inej allowed herself to savor the rare moment of intimacy between them, knowing that it was a fleeting luxury in their world. A world that was about to become a lot more dangerous.

[simpliao]

let you break my heart again ; (irl) schlatt x reader

summary : silly to think he ever belonged to you.

info : based upon the song of the same name by the ever gorgeous Laufey, and shouldn't be by Luke Chiang, i love them both amazing songs that I completely recommend. cheating, depressive themes, mention of disordered eating, angst, I cried while writing this.

a/n : I have been so busy, and totally not based on experience lmao. I just needed to vent, so I hope you enjoy and can feel the hurt I'm currently going through <3 I'll see you guys in another four months

Shouldn't be.

Love shouldn't hurt this much. It shouldn't be killing me this much on the inside.

'maybe next week n/n, you know I'm busy.'

The message was all too familiar, barely legible as the world only became blurrier as tears flooded my eyes. My throat closed up, and I could only muster to text back as I always have.

'it's no problem! Can't wait for next week then :)'

I knew this song and dance would only follow into next week, my message left read and unanswered for what I know would be another dry answer hours in the future.

Laid upon a dishevelled bed, my eyes flickered my glance to my side, golden hour having already passed and no more light seeped into my room. My apartment for so many weeks deafly silent, my mind playing cruel tricks upon my heart when I could have sworn I heard his laugh echo off these walls. Always nothing more than a cope for what we've become, the sound of my own breathing and distant city sounds being my only comfort.

When that comfort used to me his arms, his hold, the gentle kisses upon my forehead and admissions of how beautiful he found me to be. No longer have I felt that way, not since. Just thinking about him causes me to choke back a sob, I promised myself I wouldn't cry. Not after I told myself I'd go with the flow, if he didn't care I wouldn't either.

He. Burnt auburn hair I still remember glowing when we'd drive out to the countryside to get a better view of the sunset at eight. Stupid jokes he'd make that would always draw a laugh out of me, his smile burnt in all corners of my mind; to only now haunt me every time I closed my eyes. He still stayed, even if I knew the same couldn't be said on his side.

I knew I shouldn't be doing this right now.

Leaving myself occupied in my mind, letting myself drown in thoughts and memories. If I were to shift my eyes I'd be able to see the school project sitting upon my desk, waiting to be done. And yet here I was, eyes permanently fixated upon the ceiling with my AirPods at its highest volume. Caught up in looking back.

He promised me to always be honest, that I was his and he was in turn mine. Those empty promises almost as empty as my stomach, the attempt of trying to get the sustenance into my body made me sick. Something would trigger of memory of us, and whatever sorry attempt at a meal I've managed to scrape together would be doused in salty tears; inedible. So empty I felt, I should have known; it's my fault.

He never had the best reputation. Twitter would have said 'told you so', Jeremiah Schlatt was never seen as a saint in the online sphere. When it came out that the two of us were friends, it shocked the community. Who would think? Two opposites would have such chemistry. Someone as blunt, sarcastic and cynical could pair so well with someone known to be so sweet, genuine.

That's all he ever wanted people to think, I question now if that's all he wanted us to be– with benefits to him.

Empty promises that when this or that would be sorted out, or when he'd be done planning something special he'd be ready to take on the responsibility. Everyone knew him to be the non-committal type, and yet he whispered into the cuff of my ear in our most intimate moments that he was mine– and mine alone.

And I supposed I was the fool to believe him.

From hours to days left on delivered, mute excuses to follow and never ending cancelled plans. We weren't together, yet he still gave the vague illusion that it was so. The use of private nicknames gave the feeling of being significant to him, and yet what we did behind closed doors was kept a tight-knit secret.

Now even wrapped up in comforters and bundled up in my warmest sweaters I still felt so cold, where his arms and warmth used to envelop now are permanently, bitterly frigid. The only thing keeping me going was foolish hope that I knew kept me foolish.

He wasn't coming back, not so long as he had my friends wrapped around his fingers. Pretending to not hear his flirty remarks while they giggled without knowing a thing ate me up from the inside.

I'd never say a thing either, lest I become the bad guy. Why couldn't I let him talk with his friends? Why couldn't he get time alone? His world didn't revolve around me so why are you acting crazy? You're wrong. We aren't even together... yet.

That last word used to tease and keep me in place, if I was good then that yet could become a maybe, and down the road a yes. I knew this was bullshit, meant to keep me where he wanted me. So he can feign guilt and use me all over again. I knew what I was, I was a toy for his amusement.

And I knew it all. I knew he didn't care about me, how his words would hurt, how he would lead me on with no more intentions than just a bit of fooling around. His eyes would wander, and a part of me hoped he'd never come back.

Because if he did I'd act the same, scared of being a nuisance, scared of being called mean names or seeing his gentle features turned malicious. I needed time for myself, and I knew I needed to cut him off to heal the scars he's left upon my heart. Keeping him close only hurt so much more, but it was a choice between loneliness or... More loneliness.

Until then, however, I'll just let you break my heart all over again.

[uglypastels]

i might be the only one but i need to know more about captain eddie and tabitha. what happened between those two??

hey i wanna know too so that's already two people!!

so, this is a little extra headcanon for my pirate!au, takes place before the events of Not Wholly Evil

18+ warnings: mentions of smut but not described. mentions of sex work. heavy drinking. (bit of angst).

Eddie had noticed Tabitha as soon as he had walked into the place

It was one of the bigger taverns, as Joyce had cut him off for the night.

He was absolutely drunk out of his mind. It had been a long day.

So, he and Tabitha immediately caught each other's attention. She was certainly the most attractive woman in the room, and her knowledge of that fact only added to her appeal. His drunkenness could be mistaken for an indifferent confidence as he walked up to her, ignoring the man she had already been occupied with wooing.

Eddie found a table for himself, and she quickly joined him, fluttering her eyelashes and making sure that however she positioned herself, he would not be able to stop looking at her breasts. She had expected it to be an easy fix and was ready for it all to be over soon too.

but the simple flirtations grew into an actual conversation.

and by the time Eddie had rented out a room in the inn for the night, they were both professing their undying love for each other.

Eddie might have made one or even, several promises to her. Some were easier to keep than others.

As he had certainly lived up to the ones in which he told her how good he would make her feel.

But what about the whispers in her ear of how she deserved better than this life and that he could help her getaway? Give her a big diamond ring and fill her with his children. All that was a bit harder of a promise to keep, especially considering that...

The next morning, Eddie woke up, headache spinning him in circles, barely any memory of the night before leaving. All he knew was that a gorgeous woman was lying next to him. A vague whisper of her name was still ringing in the back of his head, but it hurt too much to focus.

So, as she was still asleep, he did not want to disturb her; he quickly and silently got dressed, left a few gold coins on the dresser and left to catch up with the rest of the crew.

The next time he visited on Saint Claire, when he bumped into her, she still had a spark of hope that he would take her away from this place and that they would live happily ever after, so imagine the heartbreak when she realised he didn't remember any of it.

and then imagine the sex they had after that fight.

[horizon-verizon]

i just read that anon and their briefly take on jj, and in normal circumstances i don't really care about those twt and tktk creators but i truly like stillfrombrooklyn and her opinions on harwin hehe he is not the saint that the fandom claimed him to be. but i wonder about ur opinion on them, harwin and rhaenyra? and harwin and the bunch of strong sisters being around rhaenyra.

Anon talks about this post.

I remember some of stillfrombrooklyn's points about Saera and Jaehaerys and something vaguely abt Harwin. I remeber agreeing with some, disagreeing with others, as one does in fandom or a lot of discussion. I don't remember much, though and I haven't gone back to review.

IDK if it's GRRM's oversight, but the Strong sisters are barely mentioned after their becoming Rhaenyra's "handmaidens" in her/their pre-marriage youths. And idk what about Harwin you want my opinion of. Do you mean whether Rhaenyra loved him, he loved her, whether the love was one sided or mutual? Are you asking if he only approached her and stayed loyal to her for his family's sake, or that kept being his main motivation? Whether the sisters were loyal to her, why or why not, and the quality/motivation of that loyalty?

Rhaenyra is 14-15 when she does what she does w/Daemon (whatever it was) and he is exiled in 112; in 113, she's arranged to be married to Laenor; in 114 alone, she moves to Driftmark with Harwin's sisters (2 out of her total handmaids), Mushroom, and Harwin, marries Laenor, Criston leaves her and kills Joffrey, and Jace is born in that year's last days. I take "waning" days literally to mean just the last one to two weeks in the year and it takes 8-9 months for a healthy fetus to be born and become an official infant. So Rhaenyra is 17-18 when she births Jace.

So are you talking about the fact that Harwin likely impregnates her (as I believe her kids weren't Laenor's, others think differently...it doesn't matter personally or in terms of assigning any sort of "blame" towards her, but it does matter narratively) when she's barely 18 and he'd most likely be older at least by 4 or more years and in his 20s (since he was made a captain in the City Watch in 105, men/boys are usually knighted 15-18 in Westeros, and he had to have built his reputation as "strongest man" from proofs of such experience and we have no proof of him having been very young when he built that reputation)?

It'll be more helpful if you asked specific questions about Harwin and his sisters, anon.

[the-twelve-daggers]

🏴‍☠️ ⤷ Davy Jones: The Truth Behind The Ruthless Villain

Several of the pirate characters in the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise were based off of or inspired by one or a mix of real-life pirates, most of whom sailed during the Golden Age at the beginning of the eighteenth century when the franchise itself was set. This applies to the movie's mystical characters too, like Armando Salazar and Hector Barbossa.

However, concerning the initial trilogy's villain, this is a bit of a grey area.

Whilst there are various myths and direct sources linking to the origins of concepts like Davy Jones' locker and Jones' ship The Flying Dutchman, the actual man himself has very vague historical links (unless, miraculously, he was based on The Monkees singer, which I highly doubt).

But, nonetheless, let us look through the theories...

Davy Jones: The Welsh Pirate

One story suggests that the Davy Jones character came from the frightful pirate David Jones, who sailed during the 1630s in the Indian Ocean. However, there is little known about him, which only makes this concept even more unclear.

"During the 1630s, a pirate captain named David Jones sailed through the Indian Ocean, but many historians believe that he was not famous enough to be remembered for quite a long time." [Kouachi, Mecheri & Zerrouki 25]

There are also rumours of a Welsh pirate Dafydd Jones, though it is unclear if these are the same two people. Either way, there is too little known about the figure(s) in order to make strong connections. But, having said that, if the myths of his ruthlessness are true, there is definitely a connection that can be made to our contemporary Davy Jones.

Davy Jones: The Pub Owner

A slightly stronger theory that has been circling around is the figure of a London pub owner, who would drug and/or heavily intoxicate his customers and sell them to ship captains, where they would wake and find themselves unwillingly in the middle of the ocean, or technically, 'Davy Jones' Locker'.

Some stories go on to say that Jones eventually became bankrupt, stealing a ship and becoming a pirate himself. He would sail around the Atlantic, keelhauling or decapitating other crews as well as locking them to their sinking ships.

Unfortunately, I couldn't find any direct references to quote, but I have linked some articles below that discuss this theory.

Davy Jones: The Prophet

There are some rumours that Davy Jones, or at least the origins of his name, derives from Saint David, the patron Saint of Wales, as well as the figure of the prophet Jonah from the Bible, who was swallowed by a whale.

I think it better to include this in the words of W. Pinkerton, in the scholarly journal Notes & Queries in 1851:

During many years of seafaring life, I have frequently considered the origin of this phrase, and have now arrived at the conclusion that it is derived from the scriptural account of the prophet Jonah. The word 'locker', on board of ship, generally means the place where any particular thing is retained or kept, as "bread locker", "shot locker", "chain locker", &c. In the sublime ode in the second chapter of the Book of Jonah, we find that the prophet, praying for deliverance, described his situation in the following words:—"in the midst of the seas; and the floods compassed me about; the depth closed me round about; the earth with her bars was about me." The sea, then, might not be misappropriately termed by a rude mariner, Jonah's locker—that is, the place where Jonah was kept or confined. Jonah's locker, in time, might be readily corrupted to Jones's locker; and Davy, as a very common Welsh accompaniment of the equally Welsh name, Jones, added, the true derivation of the phrase having been forgotten. [Pinkerton 509]

Davy Jones: The Devil

A very early (perhaps even the second after Defoe's writing in 1726) mention of Davy Jones' and his Locker is in 1751, in Chapter XIII of Smollett's The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle. Here, Jones is described as a devilish sort of character, with a terrifying appearance that almost resembles the typical imagery of Satan:

“By the Lord! Jack, you may say what you wool; but I'll be damned if it was not Davy Jones himself. I know him by his saucer eyes, his three rows of teeth, his horns and tail, and the blue smoke that came out of his nostrils. What does the blackguard hell's baby want with me?[...]” This same Davy Jones, according to the mythology of sailors, is the fiend that presides over all the evil spirits of the deep, and is often seen in various shapes, perching among the rigging on the eve of hurricanes, shipwrecks, and other disasters, to which a seafaring life is exposed; warning the devoted wretch of death and woe. No wonder then that Trunnion was disturbed by a supposed visit of this demon, which, in his opinion, foreboded some dreadful calamity. [Smollett 105]

This was then illustrated in 1832 by George Cruikshank, visualising all of the characteristics mentioned above.

Whilst this depiction is rather different to the one we get in the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, with horns rather than tentacles and blue smoke rather than the classic pipe, it's still interesting to see how Davy Jones was sometimes thought to be as horrifying as we see him now, simply based on his involvement with death at sea.

Overall, I hope that we get to find out more about the initial myths and legends that surround Davy Jones in real-world context, as I think that the information from word-of-mouth stories that we have so far are compelling already. I would love to read more older texts that reference him or his Locker, so that we might gain a better understanding of his place in seafaring history.

CITATIONS:

[Abdenour Kouachi, Ahmed Soufyane Mecheri, and Zina Zerrouki. Tracing The Origin Of The Stereotypical Image Of Pirates. 2021. https://bucket.theses-algerie.com/files/repositories-dz/1921423357564832.pdf]

['Notes and Queries'. Vol. 3, Issue. 86. 1851, pp. 490-512. https://archive.org/details/sim_notes-and-queries_1851-06-21_3_86/page/512/mode/2up]

[Merchant Mariner Guide. Davy Jones: The Legend, The Pirates, and The Flying Dutchman. 2023. https://merchantmarinerguide.com/blog/f/davy-jones-the-legend-the-pirates-and-the-flying-dutchman?blogcategory=History+]

[Famous Pirates. Davy Jones - Legend, Facts and Biography of Famous Pirate. http://www.famous-pirates.com/pirates-facts/davy-jones/]

[Owlcation. Old Sea Legends: The Incredible Story of Davy Jones and His Locker. 2023. https://owlcation.com/humanities/Old-sea-legends-The-Incredible-story-of-Davy-Jones-and-his-Locker]

[Marine Insight. The Real Story Behind The “Davy Jones’ Locker” 2022. https://www.marineinsight.com/maritime-history/the-story-behind-the-term-davy-jones-locker/]

[Smollett, Tobias George. The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle. W. Strahan, G. Robinson, T. Cadell, 1784. https://archive.org/details/bim_eighteenth-century_the-adventures-of-peregr_smollett-tobias-george_1784_1/mode/2up]