#i don't know enough about dark souls to name this character

[capri-sun-stand-user]

I hope everyone knows that when I say I'm a women sometimes, this is what I mean:

[lxvebun]

A millennium of unsaid I love you's

Synopsis: love is the most twisted curse of all. Yuuji wonders if it's twisted enough to have even Sukuna in its grip.

Content: Sukuna x gender neutral reader. Fluff+little angst. Lovesick!sukuna, I repeat, Lovesick!Sukuna he's so in love with you it shows in everything he does!! Mentions of character death but its open for you to decide. Slight mention of canon violence. Around 1k words♡ eng is not my first language, lmk if there are any annoying mistakes♡♡

"Have you ever been in love?" Yuuji wonders out loud, not necessarily expecting a serious answer. It's a little past midnight if he's reading the blurry red numbers on the digital clock correctly, and despite sleep clouding over his eyes, he can't seem to find rest. Blankets are carelessly kicked to the edge of the bed in an effort to relieve himself from the summer heat but it doesn't do much to help him ease into that sleepy state either.

(Talking to Sukuna seemed a lot more interesting than counting sheep)

The question hangs in the air for a moment, silence twists around it like a vine, and just before it completely swallows it up, the answer floats across his mind similar to a thought but eerily spoken in a different voice.

"Yes"

It's said quietly, almost as if trying to maintain the tranquility of the summer night, but this is Sukuna we're talking about. He doesn't take others into consideration. There's something else that keeps him from voicing his answers out loud.

(Perhaps it's the way he can't talk about you without sounding like a love-sick devotee)

"How!?" Yuuji blurts out before thinking, not realizing the question is rather rude until a sharp flash of pain surges through his body, a little corrective behavior sent from Sukuna, no doubt. "Sorry, sorry. I just didn't expect it, that's all.

It's quiet for a bit. Yuuji takes the time to admire the stars and moonlight shining through the sliver of the curtains. It feels like the moon is extra radiant tonight as it spills a wonderful illuminative light across the room. 

"I don't know"

There's not much he doesn't know, but to this day it's still a miracle to him that you weaved yourself so effortlessly into his very being. Managing to do so without an ounce of resistance from him. Partly believing you were some kind of heavenly punishment sent to bring the king of curses to his knees. To rid the world of a darkness that never should have existed in the first place.

(He'd let you)

"I just was"

There's another part of him that theorizes that maybe you were something that remained of his human self. A soulmate to complete his when his soul wasn't half as dark and twisted as it is now. Born from the same star, hearts carved from the same moon. A red string binds you to him, regardless of the form he takes. How cruel of fate to tie you to a monster and keep it that way.

Quietness tunes back in as Yuuji's thoughts drift elsewhere. For a second, Sukuna thinks he's done with his late-night interrogation.

"What were they like?"

He's not indulging Yuuji, really. But his heart beats back a little warmth into his soul every time he thinks of you. Every time he thinks of your voice, how his name sounded so syrupy and sweet falling from your lips, a stark contrast to how it's usually uttered.

Every time he thinks of your touch, how you always handled him with a gentleness he probably doesn't deserve. As if under all the scars and cursed markings he was made of the most delicate porcelain. Even when you were angry, it never bled violence into your touch.

Gods, your entire being shined so brightly he could pick you out from among the stars. You dug yourself into his chest, ripped out his darkened heart oh so deliciously, and buried yourself in its place. As if you always belonged there.

Just thinking of you stains his mouth all too sweetly, a millennium of unsaid I love you's building up in the back of his throat. He swallows it down.

"They were beautiful" he speaks aloud this time, voice booming around the room. Yuuji flinches a little at the intrusion "And that's enough of your questions tonight, brat"

"Just one more, please"

.....

Yuuji takes the silence as compliance.

"Are they gone?" He puts it into softer terms. Sukuna's a little annoyed at the consideration.

He doesn't know... and he's not sure what hurts more, being oblivious to your fate, or assuming that you have passed. Surely, Uraume would have taken care of you. Then again, are they even around still? A dullness grows in his chest, splinters its way through his ribs, and weighs down into his lungs suffocatingly so at the uneasiness of not knowing.

Looking through Yuuji's eyes, he catches a glint of a star beaming down into the split in the curtain. Shining an ethereal light so brightly he has to avert his gaze.

( he could pick you out amongst the stars. He refuses to believe it's you)

The ache lessens again as the starlight seems to clear his head. You're bound to him by a string of fate, there's not a single universe out there where you're not with him. Even if it's cruel of fate to do so, even if those thousand years apart have turned him into someone almost unrecognizable. You'll be together again. Perhaps your soul is just waiting for the right moment to appear.

"they'll be back" is all he says, and the finality in his tone urges Yuuji to keep his mouth shut despite the whirlwind of questions still racing through his mind. Memories that don't belong to him flicker through Yuujis's mind as Sukuna seems to dream off. They're blurry and foggy and disappear all too quickly for him to make sense of what he's seeing, but he can feel the overwhelming presence of love dripping from the edges. He doesn't question why his heart starts to race too.

Sukuna has been a rot in his side from day one. but if there ever exists an opportunity to save everyone, if he could give him his happy ending should you come back, he thinks he'll grant it to him.

Thank you for reading angels!!♡ i had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you enjoyed this too!

[milksnake-tea]

(hi 🪼 i don't have a good sense of time so if this is way too late please feel free to bat this ask out the window)

can i ask for a nanook w/ prompt n. 5? (romantic) feel free to twist it however you want!!

❀ ˎˊ- prompts: They get caught staring at you. ❀ ˎˊ- 1k followers event ❀ ˎˊ- character: nanook ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: none ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: I'M ASSUMING U MEANT FLUFF SO THATS WHAT IM GOING W BC ITS CUTE !!! imma be honest im really bad at ending stuff so im not too happy w the ending here, but i hope u liked this !!

For such a violent Aeon, Nanook was a quiet soul.

Many of your conversations were one-sided, with you rambling about your day while Nanook merely listened and observed, occasionally playing with your hair or poking at you - much like a cat, you'd often say. Whenever you mentioned that to them, they'd only respond with a comforting rumbling of their chest, which was their version of a chuckle.

You laid on your side in their large palm, the Aeon currently occupied with other matters - most likely implanting another Stellaron in some unfortunate planet. Rings of molten gold glowed above you, some of that glowing liquid dripping down in waterfalls of melted metal. But you paid no matter to that.

Instead, you focused on tracing lines on the Aeon's palm, fascinated with the folds and scars that spanned over their dark skin. Beneath those thin stretches of skin glowed the golden blood of Nanook, much like a lantern. When you pressed your ear against them, you could briefly feel a pulsing beat against your head - Nanook's heartbeat.

You hummed to yourself, a sweet melody drifting through the endless void. When Nanook was busy, it was in your best interest to keep quiet. Any distractions, and Nanook might accidentally kill you instead of a planet (it's happened before).

It took a few moments of pure silence before you noticed a pair of eyes trained on your body. Knowing that there was only one other person in this space, you rolled over to meet Nanook's gaze.

You couldn't see the entirety of Nanook's body from where you were, but you didn't mind. The honey-like amber of Nanook's eyes was enough to enrapture you - no matter how many times you saw it, you were fascinated by their beauty each time.

The Aeon rested their head on one of their hands, leaning into their palm as they watched you - a hint of fondness making its way onto their expression.

You smiled cheekily up at the Aeon whose name sparked fear into the hearts of countless.

"Enjoying the view?" you teased. Nanook raised a brow.

"And if I am?" they mused. Their voice was low, yet unbelievably loud. It rumbled throughout the galaxy, both soothing and overwhelming to your ears.

Rather than replying, you sat up and beckoned towards them, making grabbing motions with your hands. Obliging, Nanook lifted you to their face so that you could touch them.

Their skin was warm like a fireplace under your skin. Nanook's eyes fluttered closed as you kissed their nose and nuzzled against them. A smile flickered onto their lips, but it was gone as fast as it had come.

"You know," you hummed, "for an Aeon of Destruction, you're awfully gentle."

"Only for you."

You chuckled, pressing your forehead to theirs as they tilted their head down. "Quite adorable too."

You didn't see it, but you knew Nanook was rolling their eyes at you. But you didn't really care. All that mattered right now was this moment, a silent yet intimate night among the cosmos.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back to work but still hurting.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You’re grateful only for the reprieve of Sy’s shower. He spends at least an hour in the bathroom but it’s not nearly enough time to figure this out. He’s not going anywhere and you have no way of changing that. And with how things are going, it won’t be long before you’re entirely trapped with him. 

The helplessness suffocates you. You slowly get up, needing to do something, anything to keep your thoughts from spiralling further. Or him. 

You go to the kitchen and pull out some chicken. Even with your recent shop, what you have won’t last. Not with two people. You marinate the tender breast as you pull out the jasmine rice and your mini rice cooker. Everything you have is built for one, it’s another reminder that he’s invaded your life. 

The bathroom door opens and you stay hidden in the kitchen. It’s only as he calls your name that you poke your head out. You don’t want him to think you’ve tried to escape again. Imagine that, escaping your own life. 

“Here,” you squeak and your mouth hangs open. He stands in only a towel. It’s low enough that the trail of hair along his stomach grows thicker just above the knot. Your lashes flick and you cough, “just starting dinner. Jerk chicken and... and rice.” 

“Sounds delicious,” he grins and runs his fingers through his beard. “Much better than field rations, eh, Aika?” 

He whistles at the dog and she perks her ears up. Sy sighs and drops his arms, smiling at you dreamily. Your eyes wander to the scars all over his body; a thick raised one along his ribs and smaller ones flecked along his shoulder and a line on his lower stomach. 

“I’ll get dressed,” he rubs his hands together, “can’t be eatin’ in my towel, huh?” 

“Sure, uh, I... I’ll be in here.” 

You go back into the kitchen and stare at the rice maker. You see the reflection of his scarred mind in his body. Again you can’t help the rent in your heart. That sympathy that underlines your fear. He’s a tortured soul but not one you can soothe. You don't know where to begin. 

You put the chicken in the oven and set the rice to cook. Next you look for a veggie. Broccoli. Standard. You’ll add a bit of seasoning. You’re not very hungry, even as the aromas rise in the air. 

“God, it’s hot in here,” Sy growls as he appears in the doorway that opens to the dining space.  

“It’s the oven,” you say as rinse the head of broccoli, “sorry.” 

“Ah, you know, it’s not half so bad as the desert,” he chuckles, “Aika knows. The way the sand gets all in your mouth and—and everywhere else.” 

“I can’t imagine,” you murmur, “wouldn’t be a day at the beach, I’m sure.” 

“Mm, no,” he agrees as he leans on the wall, “not a bad idea. I could take ya down for a beach day. We could get some good pictures. A few videos.” 

“Maybe, I don’t know,” you focus on your task. You put the broccoli on the cutting board and pull out a knife. 

“You want me to get that, sweetie? Don’t wanna cut yourself now,” he pushes away from the wall. 

“No, I got it,” you line up the knife and chop the head in half. He winces. 

“It’s dangerous, you got a smaller one?” 

“Really, Sy, I’m fine,” you insist as he looms closer, “let me just get dinner ready and you can sit--” you hiss as you pull your finger back at the sudden slip. 

“I told ya,” he accuses as he grabs your hand and examines it. His grip is iron and you don’t resist. There’s no blood. 

“It was just my nail,” you wiggle the top of your finger, “please--” 

“Let me do it,” he insists and reaches for your other hand, “give me the knife, sweetie.” 

You hesitate but hand it over. You’re not sure why he’s so nervous about it. Still, there’s no sense fighting over sharp objects. 

“We gotta work together, don’t we?” He says as he chops.  

“Sure,” you agree thinly. 

You turn to get a sheet pan for the broccoli. You’ll dress in oil and some spices, maybe a bit of lemon juice. As you lay parchment paper over it, he drops the knife in the sink. 

He remains, crowding you as he watches you work. You spread out the little branches and drizzle them over. You put them in beside the chicken and rinse off your hands. You dry off and glance over at Sy. He's watching you. 

“You really don’t have to stay out here,” you say. 

“I like being around you,” he grins, “still can’t believe it’s real.” 

Me neither, you think. 

“Well, all that’s left is the waiting,” you set a timer, “so...” 

“Ah, well, s’pose we can do that on the couch.” 

“Oh, well, I was gonna get the laundry together,” you say, the excuse popping up spontaneously. 

“Why don’t you wait ‘til tomorrow?” 

“Right, uh, I wanted to get it done. I need to get back to my commissions tomorrow.” 

“Mmm,” he hums flatly, “you work too hard.” 

You withhold a mean thought. He hasn’t mentioned work since he showed up. What about that desk he was talking about? You know better than to challenge him. You’ll keep the peace as long as you have to. Get through dinner then worry about the real test; bedtime. 

“Alright, let’s sit,” you relent and reach for his large hand.  

It’s not an affectionate gesture, merely appeasing. You can still hear his voice booming and the thump his skull made on the wall. Not to mention the state of his face and the dent in your wall. You can’t forget what he’s capable of. You can’t deny that you’re lucky he only hurt himself. 

He lets you guide him out of the kitchen and you try not to show your reticence. You won’t think of what happened on the couch last time. Besides, you can’t leave the food to burn. 

💗

You eat at the table. It’s an excuse for some space. As you waited for the timer to save you, you were trapped in his embrace. His constant touching and cooing. You should be flattered when someone tells you you’re pretty and perfect but he just makes you want to combust. 

You can hardly stay still. You clear the table and tidy up what mess is left in the kitchen. You can hear him prowling in the other room. You wipe down the table and peek up as he stops to watch you. 

“Almost done?” He asks. 

“Sure, uh, I’ll finish and get washed up for the night.” 

“Washed up?” He echoes. 

“Brush my teeth, wash my face, all that,” you explain. 

“Oh, yeah, makes sense.” 

“What about Aika? She need to go out?” 

He stops and looks at the dog, still laying at the door. 

“She should,” he intones grimly, “I’ll take her then.” 

He disappears into the bedroom as you let out a breath. It’s not much. You know you’re just putting off the inevitable. He reemerges with the jangle of keys and you see your phone case peeking out of a pocket in his cargo shorts. He might seem scattered but there’s something about him that assures you he’s just as calculated. 

“I’ll be back,” he assures and stops just by the door, “sure you don’t wanna come with us?” 

You rinse off the cloth and shake it out. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“You should come...” he mumbles. 

“Sy,” you go to the doorway parallel to the apartment door, “I promise, I won’t go anywhere.” 

You have nowhere to go. 

He stares at you. His looks pale and drawn. He cracks his neck as he tilts his head one way then the other. He lets out a long exhale as he sets his head straight and he steps closer. Aika stands, her paws scuffing on the hardwood. You gulp as he makes himself bigger and glares down at you. 

“I know you won’t,” he says quietly, “because you know I’ll follow you anywhere, don’t you, sweetie?” 

You bat your lashes and gulp. You nod, “yes, captain.” 

His lips curve and he reaches to grab you, cradling the back of your head as he pulls you close and kisses your forehead, “good girl. Get nice and fresh for me.” 

He lets you go with a growl and you stand frozen between the counters. Aika watches him with her doleful eyes as he steps into his boots. He opens the door and points her out, not bothering to take the leash with him. She looks at you, wiggling her nose, before she goes. 

The door snaps shut behind Sy and jolt you. You can’t shake the grit in his voice. The subliminal threats laced into his proclamation of devotion. He found you and he’ll find you again, so why bother trying to run? 

You shut off the kitchen light and flit into the bedroom. You gather up a set of pajamas. A white tee and short pairing with little sliced oranges stamped into the fabric. You lock yourself in the bathroom and face yourself in the mirror. You look just as afraid as you feel. 

You lay out the pajamas to one side of the sink and put on the fluffy headband that keeps your hair out of the way. You start your usual routine, the familiarity the only comfort you have left. Brushing flossing, exfoliating, moisturizing, and toning. It’s the little things you started to make yourself feel better but they just aren’t working this time. 

You hear him return as you button up the pajama top. You stare at the door with dread and gather up your shirt and skirt, along with your panties and bra. You teeter on the balls of your feet, trying to find whatever you might call courage. He gets there first. 

The knock makes you jump. You quickly go to the door and flip back the lock. He opens the door from the other side before you can. 

“Everything okay?” He asks. 

“Yes,” you answer dumbly as you hug your armful of clothes. 

“Oh, you look... nice. Refreshed.” 

“Um, yeah,” you say as you waver. There’s no room to get around him. 

He steps back and waves you out. You carry the clothing into the bedroom to dump in the hamper and turn to find him looming in the doorway. Great. 

“You smell good,” he purrs as he peels off his shirt. 

“Did you lock the door?” You ask. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout that. You got me here to take care of ya,” he scoffs and hurls the shirt so it just barely clings to the side of the hamper. “Those are some cute jammies.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you look down and pinch the sides of the shorts. 

“Long day,” he stretches and drops his arms, unbuttoning his shorts shamelessly. 

“Yep,” you agree, “be nice to sleep.” 

You go to the edge of the bed and slip beneath the duvet. You tuck your chin down as you hug yourself beneath the fluffy cover and keep your back to him. He flips the light off and you nearly whimper. The bed dips behind you and cool air flows under the blanket as he climbs in behind you. 

You’re not surprised when he swathes you in his thick arm. He pulls you against him, his furry chest flush to you as he purrs. You grasp his forearm and squirm as his heat surrounds you. He nuzzles your hair and plumes hot breath over your scalp. 

“Ain’t this nice? I could spend every night like this,” he growls as he keeps you curled up in one arm as his other hand trails down your side. “Never slept much over in the s—over there.” 

You squeak and stare into the static darkness. You tremble and force out a yawn. Maybe he’ll get the hint. For once. 

“I’m tired too, sweetie,” he toys with the bottom button on your shirt, “I know I’ll sleep all nice and cozy with you.”  

His fingers tickle your lower stomach and crawl beneath the cotton. You go rigid as he creeps up your soft flesh and you latch onto him as you try to stop him. He presses his lips to your crown. 

“Don’t be bad,” he warns in a gristle. 

You let him go with a babble. He brings his hand to cover one side of your chest. He squeezes and lets out a raspy groan. He rolls his hips and you feel he’s in need again. You close your eyes and brace yourself. It’s worse than the couch. You’ve laid yourself down in his trap. 

“You’re so soft, sweetie,” he fondles you, swirling his rough fingertips around your nipple, “so warm...” he inhales your scent and snarls, “you got me hurtin’ so bad.” 

[another-lost-mc]

a new dating sim catches your eye and asmo is absolutely 100% not jealous at all.

a date with death | asmodeus x gn!reader

cw: sfw (slightly suggestive towards the end). pet names (asmo calls reader darling, sunshine). vague spoilers for parts of the game (up to day five). silly fluff and jealousy over 2d characters.

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: I really like this game (a date with death) btw, I definitely recommend it.

"I tried that new game you've been playing."

Asmo's comment catches you off-guard and your eyes slowly blink open. You were on the verge of sleep, warm and content with his chest pressed against your back and his arm draped loosely over your waist. The words are muffled slightly against your shoulder, his lips leaving a sticky trail from the hydrating mask he smoothed over them as part of his nightly skincare routine.

You've been playing a new dating sim lately. You knew Asmo peered at the monitor over your shoulder to see what you were up to, but he didn't seem all that interested. He didn't give any indication that he wanted to play it himself, either.

It's not the first romance-based game you've played in the Devildom and he never cared before. He thinks it's cute when you find a character that appeals to you. Sometimes he watches you play through the stories, or he'll listen with a smile while you talk about the game later.

When you offered to play other games with him in the past, he insisted that was Levi's area of expertise. That didn't prevent him from finding his own ways to enjoy your hobby with you though. He preferred to indulge you with a little bit of roleplay instead: parading around his room dressed like your favourite characters, imitating their speech patterns and mannerisms to sweep you off your feet, and seducing you as if they had come to life.

(Later, he seduced you properly as himself because no one can ever love you as much as he does).

But he knew right away that this particular game was different. You giggled at your desk while you tapped away at your computer. It made you smile in a soft and charming sort of way. It irked him that some pictures and words on a screen drew that sort of reaction from you the same way he did.

You lean back and glance at him over your shoulder. His expression is hard to read in the dark, but you can feel the heavy weight of his stare on your face. "I didn't know you wanted to play it. You should've told me! Did you like it?"

"Not at all," he declares firmly, and you can't help but chuckle at his sharp response.

"Really? Why not?"

"I'm so glad you asked, darling," he says as he turns over and sits up suddenly. He flips on the lamp beside him, and he rubs the back of his hand against your cheek in apology when you wince as light illuminates his room. He plucks something off the bedside table and waves it in your direction with a flourish. "I made a list!"

You give him a skeptical look as you roll over to give him your full attention, and he clears his throat and taps the top of the page. "My first complaint is the ridiculous title: I Made a Bet and Have to Survive the Next Seven Days Without Falling in Love With a Babygirl Reaper Who Wants My Soul! Seriously? The title alone should warn you how terrible it's going to be."

"That's not what it's called in the human world," you explain with a shrug. "I don't understand why they changed it here, it's a little bit silly."

He tsks under his breath. "Silly indeed. Where do I even begin with this so-called love interest? It's almost like the creators have never met a real reaper before. I can assure you most of them aren't as nice or cute as they make him out to be." The look he shoots you next is oddly serious, and it sends a chill up your spine as his words sink in. "I recommend not getting too close to their kind. Thirteen seems docile enough, but I prefer your body and soul to remain in one piece."

You're not sure how to begin to respond to that little speech, but he pokes the paper with his finger and continues reading his list of "glaring issues" with the game. The complaints get more ridiculous and obscure, and it's only when he gets to the bottom of the page that the reason for his sour mood dawns on you.

"...and when I thought it couldn't get any worse, he calls you 'sunshine.' He has some nerve - that's what I call you. Remember when Mammon thought it would be funny to call you his sunshine too?" A dangerous gleam twinkles in his eyes before it disappears just as quickly. "At least he learned not to do that again," he murmurs under his breath.

You shuffle over on your knees and swing your leg over his thighs so you can sit in his lap. "Do you have any other complaints on that little list of yours?" you ask him with a teasing smile.

He huffs in frustration and his frown is adorable - of course he has one more grievance to share. "That stupid reaper doesn't even know your favourite flower. Tomorrow I'm going to buy you the biggest and most beautiful bouquet you've ever seen."

He finally drops the paper but neither of you spare it a second glance as it falls over the side of the bed and flutters to the floor. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes your waist gently, slumping his head against your chest with a drawn-out sigh. "I don't see what you like about him."

"Oh, Asmo." You run your hands gently through his hair as you hide your smile against the crown of his head. "Are you telling me there's a video game character you're actually jealous of?"

"Of course not," he mumbles into your collarbone, mouthing softly at the skin with little flicks of his tongue but it's not quite enough to distract you. "I wanted to see what all the hype was about." His teeth graze the bottom of your throat and you swallow down a quiet moan. "I found it extremely disappointing, by the way."

You cradle his jaw gently and tilt his head up so you can kiss the corner of his mouth. "You're so cute when you pout," you coo softly, just to watch how his cheeks turn pink. "I hope you know that he could pop into existence and appear outside your window right now, and I still wouldn't be interested in him. He's not you."

The words seem to soothe him a bit if the purring in his chest is anything to go by. You kiss the tip of his nose and let out a quiet squeak when he grasps the back of your neck and pulls you down so he can kiss you.

Repeatedly.

"You're right, darling." Kiss. "He's completely irrelevant," kiss "and I've already forgotten what his name is."

The world tilts suddenly as Asmo flips you onto your back and braces his weight on his hands. You giggle when he leans down and noses along your jaw. One of his hands slowly glides down your chest and tugs at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and tossing it aside without a second thought.

"Let's see if I can make you forget his name too, hmm?"

read more: asmodeus masterlist | obey me masterlist

[borninwinter81]

Queer horror from my teens

I periodically wonder whether these books are still known and read by young goths and horror fans as they were all extremely important to me in my teenage years, so I thought I'd share them.

Though I'm cishet, during the mid 90s two of my favourite authors wrote primarily queer fiction: they were Anne Rice and another author from New Orleans who is now known as Billy Martin.

He came out as a trans man in 2011, however these books were published prior to that so unfortunately you have to search for them under his deadname. This is why I've used that name in the tags on this post. I don't believe the books were ever reprinted with his current name.

Though I loved Rice, I always felt a more immediate connection with Martin due to his vivid portrayal of subcultures like goth and punk, and how it felt to be a teenager who was part of them. I could see myself in many of his characters as I had the same interests, listened to the same music, and shared the same sense of social alienation. Remember in the 90s the Internet was still a reasonably new thing, and many of us didn't have a home Internet connection at all. There was certainly no social media, no YouTube, and no real way to meet and interact with like-minded teens unless you were lucky enough to have another "weird kid" at your school. If you were a weird kid, you likely had very few friends and were bullied.

That as much as anything else led me to seek solace in books written by an author who I felt understood me, and characters who became my friends.

Lost Souls is about vampires in a kind of Lost Boys/Near Dark way. Fans of the YouTuber OfHerbsAndAltars might be interested to know that this book is where the name of his channel comes from - it's a description of the taste of Chartreuse liqueur.

Drawing Blood is about ghosts, a "murder house", computer hacking, comic art and a very beautiful (if rather messed up) romance. This one is probably my favourite of the three.

Exquisite Corpse is about serial killers, set against the AIDS crisis of the 90s. If you like the Hannibal TV series you'll probably enjoy this one - imagine if Dennis Nilsen and Jeffrey Dahmer had somehow met.

Martin doesn't pull any punches when it comes to descriptions of blood and gore, violence, abusive parents or his portrayal of toxic romantic relationships (of which there are many in his books), but if you can deal with those things there is also a great deal of beauty, phenomenally good writing, and a somewhat unique perspective on the supernatural.

Maybe I'm biased, looking at these through the lens of my teenage self. Maybe they'd seem horribly dated to today's young audience. But I still wanted to make this post in case there's someone out there who will end up loving them as much as I did.

[factual-fantasy]

I realized we know the least about the river person in ya au.

Care to remedy that?

Well to be honest.. not a whole lot has changed about her. I keep forgetting she exists and I don't have a lot of ideas for how she could interact with the group..

Though speaking of her, recently I tried to dig into her character a little more and I started by making a redesign for her. Although its only the first pass and Isn't official yet-

And despite my attempts, for now her story and character is still relatively the same..

She was just a lonely boat keeper. She would come home from her shifts to a gloomy house where no one was waiting for her. No family, no friends.. no pets or hobbies.. she didn't really have anything going on except for running the boat. And to be honest.. she was kind'a okay with that in a way. She just accepted that this was her life, and this is how she lives. And its not like she had no joy in her life. Her joy came from running the boat.

She would take all kinds of people down the river, and they would talk to her. They would tell her wonderful things. The children would talk about their hopes and dreams. What they wanted to be when they grew up.. what their favorite food was. They'd tell her about that crazy looking frog they saw on the way here.

The elderly would tell her stories of all the places they'd been and all the things they'd seen. And even if they didn't talk to her directly.. she still overheard some interesting conversations. The young couples would talk about what they were planning on naming their first child. They would talk about what they wanted their house to look like and how many pets they wanted to have.

And sometimes the people on the boat didn't talk at all. Sometimes they looked sad and wouldn't look up from their feet.. So she would sing to them. And when they got off she would tell them "I hope you're day gets better. I enjoyed your company." And the few times she got a smile back made it all worth it.

She put her value of herself and her life on the people around her. Transporting people from point A to point B and occasionally cheering people up.. was all the worth she really felt she had..

But then Jevil and his group came along for a boat ride. Half way down the river Jevil breaks out in a cold sweat and starts to shake. Somethings wrong.

"This world is about to end." The group perks up "What?"

Grabbing Seams sleeve beside him he says louder and frantically "THIS WORLD IS ENDING"

Jevil jumps up and makes a mirror below the water large enough to swallow the boat whole.

As they fall through the mirror, horrible soul breaking sounds can be heard as that timeline collapses in on itself.

The boat probably landed in a snowdin somewhere.. or maybe another waterfall? Or maybe in a dark world.. where ever it landed, Jevil was looking the group over when he saw River Person..

"Where.. am I?"

He had done it again. Ripped someone out of its AU just as it was dying...

I intended for River person to have some kind of survivors guilt. Thinking her life had no real value and that anyone else in her AU deserved to have been saved in her place. Almost the opposite of Grillby.

Grillby hates Jevil becuase he valued his life and lost everything he held dear.. River Person doesn't hate Jevil for saving her at all. She's not sad about losing her life becuase she never really had one.. She's just grieving for all those people who died and wishes any of them could have been saved in her place.

The guilt really eats her up inside..

[gojoath]

ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ HELLO, YOU OKKOTSU YŪTA

you think it’s a funny stroke of fate that you keep running into the same pretty stranger, albeit not in your best moments. little do you know, he’s known you for months before that.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. stalking. obsession. manipulation. aged up characters. no smut this part. reader is oblivious. switching perspectives. how it begins. yuta's name isn't mentioned during your first meeting because you don't know it yet. wc, 2.6k.

note. reposting the og yandere yūta series here for you just so you have it & i’ve received a lot of asks asking so :)

you’re beautiful, yuuta thinks as he watches you. you’ve stopped him in his tracks quite literally despite the cursed spirit guts that coat his white shirt— drying against his pale skin. but he feels numb when he takes his first glance at you.

he’s on the sidewalk opposite the cafe and you’re at the window seat, it’s a rainy day today— he’ll always remember it because it’s the day he met you. he thinks it’s funny, the way the earth wills for two souls to be together. he can feel the way yours is calling out to him, like it’s fateand you’re like a vision, his future and somewhere for all of his love to fester and feast.

you must feel it too— because your face scrunches up from where you’re looking at the screen of your phone and even just from your side profile, yuuta knows he wants to be by your side forever. half of your face is enough to have him hooked, maybe the saying is true that soulmates always meet eventually, they have the same hiding place afterall.

he readjusts the katana over his shoulder as he shifts his weight from foot to foot, he’s still watching you. he can’t pull away, he can already imagine the way you’d smile at him if he was sat opposite you in that empty chair. he hopes you’re alone, waiting for him— he’s finally found you. you don’t have to wait anymore.

yuuta watches your features closely as you lift your head from your phone and you look around the cafe cutely, you can probably feel him close by— his gaze is on you and he’s sure he can feel your heart beating for him. you really are so beautiful, he needs you all to himself. your next look is finally out the window to your right and he watches the way your features scan the street like you’re looking for someone, like you feel someone staring.

but it’s weird, the opposite side of the street is empty. you could’ve sworn someone was there.

—

it’s 11am as you browse the aisle’s in your usual grocery store, just a regular wednesday— wrapped away in your own little world with your headphones on as let yourself squeeze at the avocado’s in the fruit section to check if they’re ripe. it’s colder today, you’re wrapped in your scarf and a jacket but there’s something fresh and crisp about the air despite the chill.

another squeeze of the fruits in your hand and your brows furrow as you frown into the fabric of your scarf. you’ve squeezed every avocado in this section and you swear they all feel like rocks.

you go to turn away, to face the embarrassment and disappointment of leaving empty handed and avocado-less despite the way the grocery store was mostly empty at this time of day anyway. but instead, you almost collide completely with the figure to your right, you hadn’t even realised he was there— how long has he even been standing beside you? 

you look up at him to apologise quickly, but his eyes look at you in a way that wills you not to leave yet. you watch the way his lips move as he points at the fruit and gives you a kind-hearted smile, but the words go unheard as the music in your headphones still plays.

you apologise— for the second time, before you’re pushing them around your neck, fumbling a little awkwardly as the music dies and the sound of the world fill back up and you’re still staring up at the dark-haired stranger. “i couldn’t hear you, sorry!”

“oh, ah— you can have these ones.” his voice is a lot softer than you expect it to be, maybe it’s the look in his eyes that gives you the impression of something darker but his tone is kind. your eyes scan him at his words, urging you to look into his other hand that holds a pack of the same avocados you’ve just spent forever staring at.

“these ones are ready. i must’ve got the last ones, sorry.” you’re blinking up at him now, a little bit in disbelief but also embarrassed that a stranger— a cute stranger at that, felt the need to save you from your misery like this. isn’t this how it normally goes in the romance manga? 

“oh, are you sure? i don’t want to steal your groceries.” you smile as you fidget with your headphones over your scarf again but the man opposite you just gives you another smile.

“it’s fine, i don’t actually like them that much.”

“really? thank you so much, i owe you one.” you’re not sure if it’s just the cold today, but you swear he’s blushing. you bow your head slightly as you take the avocados, feeling his hand brush yours and you smile softly with another thank you before you go to turn away again.

but then that same soft tone calls you back before you can.

“so, do you like them?” he asks as he smiles down at you and you can’t hide the way the question makes you blink. you’re a little confused, caught off guard by the fact you’re pulled back into conversation again as your head turns to look at him over your shoulder.

you think he picks up on that because his hand points innocently at the avocado’s in your own before you find yourself feeling suddenly warm. obviously he’s talking about the avocados.

“oh.. uh, yeah. they’re good. but yeah, thanks again. i should probably..” now you’re definitely embarrassed, so much so that you can’t help but find yourself cutting the conversation short. you hope it doesn’t come across as rude or ungrateful, but he still manages another smile as he scratches at the back of his neck before you turn to leave with a wave.

“oh. yeah, i’m sorry.” you feel a little bad when he apologises though, you didn’t even manage to get his name.

but it’s weird. you feel like he looks a little familiar.

yuuta watches you leave, he doesn’t leave that spot infront of the aisle at the grocery store because he’s finally been able to speak to you. to see you up close. he’s so glad that he followed you here, he knows this is your routine, he’s studied it for weeks, months. this is your favourite time to go shopping and he’d made sure to get there early to pick out the ripest avocados. he knew you’d come looking. your skin felt soft when he’d brushed his fingertips against yours.

it was perfect. you are perfect.

“ah, that went well.” he lets his palm rest over his chest as he feels the way his heart is beating against his ribs, like it’s about to jump out of his skin entirely to reach for you, to pull you back. he likes the way love feels with you,

he can’t wait to finally have you.

—

you can feel your heartbeat in your ears as you walk quickly down the sidewalk towards your usual cafe, you know you’ve got to get to lunch with your friends in just under an hour— it’d been so long since you’d seen them, you were excited to catch up. but ofcourse, you’d planned a quick coffee break into your schedule, well.. until you’d slept in. 

which leaves you where you are now— rushing down the busy street towards the cafe that you know does the best coffee, because you need atleast a little bit of caffeine in your system before you can even think about taking on the day.

it’s hotter now than it has been the past few weeks and the sun feels warm against your figure as you finally turn to stand outside the door to your destination. but something feels cold against your skin still, like a stare that makes you look back over your shoulder despite the way you come up empty handed. there’s no creep in an alley like you’d expect, but the feeling remains before you’re shrugging and pushing through the door to caffeinated heaven— forgetting it entirely.

you exhale a sigh of relief when you notice the cafe isn’t as busy as it normally is, taking your place in line behind the man infront of you before you’re sending your friends a quick text back to let them know your eta.

it only takes a few minutes for you to get to the cashier, to order your little cup of brewed heaven with a smile and you’re basically vibrating with how excited you are for it. making sure to leave the worker behind the desk a generous tip before you’re making your way back to the door to leave.

but you’re a little too giddy to notice the way someone’s coming in just as you go to exit. the door opening suddenly almost makes you stumble, almost dropping the takeout cup in your palms before you’re pulled back steady by a weight around your waist that saves both you and your coffee as you gasp.

“i’m so sorry!” your head whips around as you look around for whoever just basically saved your life— your own little hero at this point, considering you almost just made a complete fool of yourself and spilled a completely full cup of coffee. your eta for your friends would’ve been an impossibility if you would’ve ended up covered in your drink.

though the gaze you’re met with is familiar as you gain your footing and you don’t realise how close you’re standing to the man that just saved your life until you’re blinking up at him. your chest is almost against his and you clear your throat a little awkwardly when you realise his arms are still around you too.

“oh, it’s you again, avocado guy! hah, looks like i owe you another one.. uh?” you smile and your words urge him to let his hands fall by his side again, albeit begrudgingly. he’d probably think you were a complete weirdo if you told him it felt kind of nice actually. you don’t even know the guys name yet.

“oh, i’m okkotsu yuuta. it’s nice to meet you.” yuuta’s hand reaches out to shake yours and his grip is tighter, colderthan you expect it to be. you start to wonder if he’s going to let go of your hand at all when it’s still there after a few stretched seconds. he’s just staring at you now, before you begin to pull yours back and surprisingly, he lets you. 

you’ve met before, but this seems like the first time you’ve let yourself truly look at him. he’s a little awkward, but he’s pretty in that same way, his hair is pushed back but it still falls into a sort of relaxed, effortless style that frames his features nicely. his skin is pale and he’s taller than you remember, but it’s his eyes you can’t quite tear yourself away from.

they’re cold, haunting in a particular sort of way that you can’t quite place. it’s like they don’t quite fit yuuta’s demeanour, like they’re looking through you entirely and the chilling gaze makes something sharp rip at your spine before you’re readjusting your feet and ignoring it. you barely know the guy, he seems nice enough. maybe you should stop assuming kind strangers have some alterier motive.

“okkotsu yuuta? thats a nice name.” you smile and you swear he’s blushing again as he looks away from you, pushing a hand through his hair in a way that makes you burn hot yourself. he’s got really, really nice hands.

“really? do you think so.. ah, thank you. i—“ your conversation is cut short, and your train of thought when your phone vibrates and you’re reminded of your ever fast approaching lunch date. you give yuuta a wide-eyed look and another apologetic smile before you’re taking a step back, feeling the cold air brush through the growing space between you both as you thank him for saving you, again.

“oh, im really sorry, okkotsu— i have to run! i have a lunch to get too,” at this point he’s going to think you’re running from him as you turn to leave. but just as you do, you feel something cold wrap around your wrist that urges you to stay.

“wait, who are you going with?” the question catches you a little off guard, but the press of yuuta’s hand around your wrist distracts you from it completely when your head whips around to frown at him. just as quickly as your gaze touches his, his hand leaves your skin and the expression that follows on his face is like a wordless apology for grabbing you. he doesn’t even know you afterall.

“what?” your words come out a little shorter than you expect them too, but you find the momentary rage about being stopped physically by a stranger melt away when he sends you another one of his soft smiles. curse him for being so pretty.

“i’m sorry, did that scare you?” yuuta’s voice sounds gentle and dreamy. you want to tell him it did—that he could atleast take you to dinner first before grabbing you back—but instead, you just find yourself looking up at him. so he continues,

“i just wanted to talk more with you, is that weird?” maybe he can tell you were a little caught off guard by the gesture. sure, he was handsome— you just didn’t expect to be pulled back into another conversation, quite literally.

“i feel drawn to you in a way.” yuuta brushes his hair back again and there’s an intriguing sort of glow to his gaze as he looks over your features, something that makes you take a small sort of step towards him when you find yourself smiling again as he speaks. “you’re really pretty.”

his compliment feel like it warms you from the inside out and suddenly you wish it was a little colder outside again, just so you could blame your ever growing body temperature on the weather — instead of the way this guy you’ve just met is flustering you instead. you press your coffee cup between your palms and exhale when you feel the sudden pace of your heart quicken.

“me too.. uh, how about i give you my number. call me?” suddenly, you can’t meet his gaze— it feels like it cuts through you and just because he thinks you’re pretty doesn’t necessarily mean he wants to date you. so you let the question hang there with bated breath, although yuuta seems to answer a little too quickly for him to even have considered it fully. maybe he was waiting for you to ask.

“ye—yeah, okay. i’d really like that.” there’s something cheerful in his tone and the smile he shows you next is toothy and sweet as you outstretch your hands to take his phone from him. you can feel him staring at you as you type it in and it makes a slight tremble settle in your fingertips at the attention he gives you before you hand it back. his hand lingers on yours a little longer when you do.

“and it’s just my friends i’m meeting for lunch, to answer your question.” you know you don’t owe yuuta an explanation but it’s his eyes, you think. they look at you like he’s peeling the truth from you with every blink, suddenly you want to strip yourself of every secret you’ve ever kept in the hopes he’ll forgive you for them all.

“oh, hah. that’s good.” you think you could get used to the sound of his voice, maybe you’re moving a little too fast— developing a crush on a man that to the best of yourknowledge, you’ve only met twice. so to save yourself anymore skips of your ever increasing heart rate, you leave at that and he lets you this time with a gentle wave, because maybe you’ll introduce him to those same friends soon too.

he’s glad it wasn’t a guy you’re meeting, that’s why he asked— he had to be sure, but he knows you wouldn’t do that to him.

he hopes your friends will like him as much as you do. he knows it can be annoying to have people telling you he might not be good for you, but he’ll be sure to make a good impression so they can’t say anything that may sway your heart. they don’t know you like he does afterall— how are they supposed to know what’s best?

okkotsu yuuta will always be whats best for you. even if you don’t know that yourself yet.

© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[kingdoms-and-empires]

Adoriel's Tears Review

I recently had to go travel and read a few works that I never got around to reading but was interested in.

PLEASE REMEMBER THIS REVIEW IS DONE BY ME AS A READER AND IS MY OWN OPINION.

This means I will review in accordance to my own tastes, how the game caters to me, and what I feel. Do not take my word as gospel, what I may not be interested in or dislike, may be what YOU are interested and love!!!

@adoriels-tears-if

Synopsis:

Adoriel's Tears are a gift.

A light offered to the inhabitants of Terrybiël to end the conflicts that oppress the Four Peoples and eradicate the evil that was crawling on the continent.

But every light has its shadow and sometimes gifts are poisonous. For if magic comes from the heart, it takes a soul to master it, and fortunate are those who manage to find it. Without a counterpart, without a familiar, a Tear is nothing.

Just a curse. A child of madness. The darkness on Terrybiël. What must be destroyed before they destroy you.

Adoriel's Tears are a gift. At least for the others.

You're long past the point where your heart and soul should be singing together, and yet you're gifted. That's what made you lose everything you had as a child. Now, an opportunity presents itself. Should you take it, is it the right thing to do?

Without a soul and with a magic you can't control, the journey will be a risky one.

Especially since the smell of madness and blood is getting heavier and heavier on Terrybiël. Will you be able to fix everything, to find what you're looking for? Nothing is less sure.

And yet, this voice is calling you, whispering:

Come ! Come to me ! Come to me and don't be afraid.

Review:

The Good: Tobias is Ken, do not fight me on this.

Also, i wasnt aware what Snow was until i looked it up:

SO FREAKING CUTE!

Anyways, I had a lot of fun with this one. It lures you into a false sense of security and wholesomeness only to abruptly show the player and MC the reality of the world. That their mother had been protecting them for a reason. The family dynamics, relationships between characters, and drama crafted got me in my feels enough to care! I also got to name my plushie rabbit Optimus Prime, which was fucking hilarious:

Also i had alot of fun with the parental drama the MC can have with their father

Ashleyn:

And with his fuckboi bros:

Adoriel's Tears does that thing really well, that thing that lets the reader fill in the blanks and make up their own assumptions for the characters until we actually meet them. Plus it lets us act out and be brats so we can break the hearts of all the adults around us that try their best!

Also there's moments like this:

That honestly just adds that bit of humor that works without cause friction for the rest of the tone.

There was also a specific passage that felt emotionally charged and intense. Youll know what im talking about once you reach it, because it is very memorable. Without spoiling, it feels like justice coming forth to smite those that have wronged you.

The Bad: I know that Chapter 1 is a transfer from the original Choicescript, and it shows. The author has already expressed wanting to polish and clean it up, which i think is the right step as the second chapter and onwards have a clear jump in quality. There were numerous spelling and grammatical errors, but given that chapter 1 is four years old, and that the author is not a native English speaker (is French) that can be excused and fixed. I was able to submit errors I came across, so the author will be able to fix what i found in a future update. I do recommend that those who play any IF out there to submit anything they find as authors need us to beta test! Their eyes literally begin to glaze over the words theyve seen for the thousandth time lol.

The Ugly: I encountered moments where the MC feels very sensitive and too friendly, or the opposite where the choices can give an extreme negative reaction in response. I'd like for the inclusion of a more middle ground MC. In addition to that, there where times where my immersion (self insert, remember) broke as my boy MC felt too "feminine" without letting us choose to act it or not. Idk how to describe it other than that lol, but it stood out to me.

The Aftermath: I would recommend this to anyone that wants a good family dynamic/drama, and if characters and their relationships with each other are important to you. There's a lot of promise, potential, and "oh shit" moments that can/will happen (18+ tag, remember?) that only leaves me wanting more. The worldbuilding done allows for some really gripping story telling, and from what we see so far, itll impact the story. Seriously, the worldbuilding here is unique, and WILL stand out as we keep seeing the same ole same ole elsewhere in this genre. It's a fantasy story that keeps itself grounded by using likable characters who have realistic flaws that provide entertainment for us.

[n0cturn4]

𝙸𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎

Character: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: A star traveler departs, carrying the longing for Jason, who calls out to the cosmos in search of her light. Years unfold, and when their destinies intertwine once more, it is the reunion of souls dancing in the melancholy of an eternal love that transcends time and space. Word Count: 6432 Music: Laufey - Second Best  Autor - Let's cry together?

The streets of Gotham whispered secrets in the darkness as you walked alongside Jason. The silence was almost palpable, heavy, as if the words between you were trapped in the shadows that stretched as the night wore on.

You always knew that being with him was like trying to hold fine sand between your fingers—something that never really stays. He had a way of being present and absent at the same time, as if a part of his soul was elsewhere, in another time, with another person.

Artemis...

You didn't need him to say it. There was no need to name the pain that lingered between you like an invisible veil. Jason carried her presence in every gesture, in every distracted glance, in every night he spent silently by your side. And you, despite all the strength you always thought you had, were there, feeling increasingly like a shadow in his life instead of being the light.

The yellowed lights of the city twinkled below, but none of them seemed to reach the darkness that grew within you. Jason stopped, and for a moment, you saw the fatigue in his eyes—not the physical fatigue, but that which comes from bearing the weight of lost loves and irreparable choices.

"Jason..." you began, your voice softer than you intended. The words you wanted to say were stuck in your throat, as if the night itself was suffocating them.

He turned his face toward you, his dark blue eyes reflecting the dim light of the streetlamps. But there was something beyond the surface, a distance you couldn't bridge. "I'm here, aren't I?" he murmured, as if this were the only answer he could give you.

But being here, you knew, was not enough.

"You are," you replied, forcing a smile that didn't reach your eyes. "But the part of you that I wanted most isn't."

The cold wind of Gotham seemed to cut through your skin, but it was the emptiness between you that truly hurt. You had always been good at understanding what people didn't say, at reading between the lines of gestures, in the pauses of conversations. And with Jason, what he didn't say was all that mattered.

You knew he loved you, in his own way. You knew he held you tight when you fell, that he was by your side when the world seemed to crumble. But you also knew that, no matter how hard he tried, there was a part of him that still belonged to Artemis. A part you could never reach.

"She's still there, isn't she?" you finally let out, with a softness that almost surprised you. There was no bitterness in your voice, just the acceptance of the truth you had always known but never wanted to face.

Jason didn't respond immediately. He closed his eyes, as if trying to deny it was too painful. "It's not fair to you," he said after a long silence. "I know that."

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your own emotions accumulate. "It's not about being fair, Jason," you replied. "It's about the fact that, no matter how much I love you, I will never be her."

The words echoed between you, raw and true. Jason opened his eyes, and there was something in them that seemed broken, as if he were finally willing to admit what he had always known.

"I don't want you to be her," he said, his voice low, almost like a lament. "But I don't know how to leave the past behind."

And it was there, in that moment, that you realized that love was not enough to save what was lost. You loved him more than you could admit, but love couldn't erase the love that Artemis had left on him. Jason was a man trapped between two worlds, and as much as you wanted to rescue him, he needed to find his own way.

"I deserve more," you whispered, the realization finally washing over you like a soft but definitive breeze. "And you deserve it too. You deserve to be free from what holds you back."

Jason looked at you, and for the first time, there was no resistance. Just acceptance. "I'm sorry," he said, and in his words, there was more sincerity than you had ever heard before.

You took a step back, letting the space between you grow, just as the distance between your lives widened. "Don't be," you replied. "Just find your own way, Jason. I've already found mine."

And so, you walked away, the night wrapping you and your choices like an old friend. Gotham felt quieter, as if the city sensed the end of something, the echo of a goodbye with no return. Your steps were firm, but inside, something within you trembled. There was a painful freedom in leaving behind what you always wanted but knew you could never have completely.

The cold wind cut through your skin, and the lights of the buildings seemed farther away than ever. Each step you took away from Jason felt like leaving a part of yourself in the past—that part that believed it could be enough, that thought love, even incomplete, could be enough.

But now you knew.

Love was more than filling absences, more than trying to occupy the space of someone who would never completely leave. You were not anyone's shadow. You didn't deserve to be the echo of a love he had already lost.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of pain and relief. There was beauty in your decision, a silent courage in choosing yourself, in realizing that true love is one that doesn't need to be shared with the ghosts of the past.

You paused for a moment, looking at the horizon, the lights of Gotham still twinkling, indifferent to your pain. A sad smile appeared on your lips. "I am more than this," you murmured to yourself, feeling the strength emerging from your own words. It was a simple but powerful revelation.

Jason. His name still weighed on your chest, but now, it felt different. He was no longer the anchor that held you in murky waters. He was a part of your story, one that you would carry with you, but no longer as a burden.

The night stretched before you, vast and full of possibilities. And as you continued to walk, the lightness of your choice began to mix with the pain, transforming it into something deeper—the acceptance that sometimes letting go is the greatest act of love we can have for ourselves.

And so, you moved on, leaving Jason, Artemis, and all the weight of the past in the shadows of Gotham. The city, with all its chaos, now seemed only a backdrop for your new journey. A journey that was entirely your own.

The night unfolded before you like a velvet cloak, enveloping the city in soft shadows, as the distant echoes of cars and murmurs blended with the sound of the wind. Your feet touched the ground lightly, almost as if they no longer belonged to the same reality you once shared with Jason. Gotham was a labyrinth of memories, but you were no longer a prisoner of it. Now, every corner felt like a delicate farewell, a whispered goodbye to who you once were.

In the middle of the bridge, the river below seemed to carry more than just water; it held every silent pain, every unfulfilled promise, dissolving the wounds in the slow, continuous waves. You leaned over the railing, your gaze lost in the liquid depths, where stars danced in the reflection of the water, fleeting and intangible, just like the hope you once carried for Jason.

"And if he looks back?"

The question floated in the air, almost like a breeze, light but loaded with meaning. Yet, the answer seemed as distant as the stars you were observing. It didn't matter anymore. The waiting had dissolved over time, and now time was yours. There was no more room for others' shadows on your path, nor for the whispers that held you to the past.

Closing your eyes, you let the wind caress your face, as if the night itself were comforting you, cradling you in its invisible arms. The silence within you was not empty—it was full, filled with a newfound peace, with a love that finally found a home within yourself.

The stars above shone with a soft, almost timid light, as if they too were waiting for the right moment to reveal themselves. And you knew that, just like them, your own shine was just beginning. Jason had been a part of your journey, but he would not be your destination. He was a memory, a distant echo, but you... you were the very pulse of life, a constellation waiting to form.

The soft footsteps of a stranger cut through the silence, bringing you back to the present moment. But he passed by, without even noticing your presence, like so many others lost in the streets of Gotham. And so, you realized – life flowed, regardless of the pains or loves we left behind.....

With a sigh, you opened your eyes, allowing the world around you to embrace you once more. The city was no longer a prison; now, it was the backdrop of your freedom. Every street, every light flickering in the distance, now became part of a scene where you were the protagonist of your own story.

You smiled – a small, but genuine smile, filled with the certainty that the future, uncertain as the stars, was yours. Love, when it comes, will not be a shadow. It will be a flame that burns without fear, without ghosts, without halves.

Then, with steady steps and a light heart, you turned and moved forward, crossing the bridge that now felt lighter, less dark. The night continued to envelop you, not as an end, but as a beginning. And deep within your being, you knew there was no longer any rush. Whatever was meant to be would come. And you, finally, were ready to receive.

In the darkness of the night, every shadow seemed to tell a story, every distant light flickering like a beacon of forgotten hopes. You walked with soft steps, the sensation of the world around you becoming a subtle dance between what was and what could be. Gotham pulsed, a living creature, breathing beneath the surface of your solitude, revealing, at every corner, the echo of a life you were now leaving behind.

"What is this love that consumes us?" you questioned, lost in thought like a traveler adrift in a sea of uncertainties. The memories of Jason were fragments, faded images of a painting that no longer depicted reality. You loved him, yes, but that love was intricately entwined with pain, and you found yourself captivated by an illusion – the idea that he could one day be all you needed. And so, the tears that were once salty became the water washing away what was left behind.

The river below continued to flow, an enigmatic mirror reflecting your insecurities and yearnings. You saw yourself in it – the current that drags, but also purifies; the depth that hides secrets and truths. "What else lies beneath the surface?" The thought visited you, whispering promises of knowledge escaping the clutches of the familiar. Each drop of water was a fragment of time, each wave a new beginning.

The whispers of the night were like ancestral melodies, played by invisible forces dancing around you. You could feel, in every breeze that passed, the voices of ancient loves and heartbreaks, of all who had walked those same streets before you. "Who am I in this grand narrative?" you wondered, with a mix of fear and fascination, as the city, like a mother, embraced your doubts in its dark womb.

Artemis, her name still echoed in your thoughts, a reminder of a deep bond now transformed into a distant shadow. The journeys you shared were like constellations in a dark sky, bright but far away. You wondered if she too felt the weight of choice, if, like you, she had learned to let go.

In your mind, the dialogue between what was and what could be grew increasingly intense. "Freedom comes at a price," you realized. And what is freedom but the weight of the choices we make? And now, by letting Jason go, by finally distancing yourself from his gravity, you felt lighter, yet at the same time tethered to a new dilemma – how to find your own light in a world that always saw you as second best?

"I am more than an echo," you whispered to the stars, feeling a courage pulsating within you. "I am the storm that rises, the flame that does not extinguish." And so, like a nocturnal bird learning to fly in the dark, you began to rise, to break free from the shackles that held you down. The path ahead unfolded in enigmatic possibilities, and you were willing to explore them, a traveler in the vast unknown.

The streets of Gotham were cloaked in mystery, and you decided to be an explorer, no longer a prisoner. The city pulsed around you, its shadows dancing, the echoes of laughter and tears intertwined in every step you took. The past did not fade away, but became a distant companion, a lesson etched in your heart.

And so, you continued, enveloped by the night, like an artist drawing the future on a blank canvas, each movement an expression of freedom, each breath an invitation to the unknown. The journey would be long, but in the end, you understood: it was not about forgetting, but about creating new stories, new constellations in the vast sky of your life.

And so, with your heart pulsing in tune with the music of the universe, you rose, an ethereal and resplendent figure against the backdrop of Gotham. The streets below, illuminated by flickering lights, became a distant echo of a past you were now leaving behind.

You floated like a comet crossing the night sky, tracing a trail of brightness and dreams. The chains of gravity became insignificant as your wings, made of starlight, spread in a graceful dance. The wind wrapped around your body, bringing with it the murmur of untold stories and whispered promises.

"I am more than this body, more than this city," you murmured, like a prayer to the cosmos, as your essence fused with the vastness of space. Each movement was a celebration of freedom; each beat of your heart resonated like an echo from distant galaxies. The height brought a new perspective, and the city, a web of shadows and lights, seemed to pulse to its own rhythm, a testament to the life that inhabited it.

As you looked down, you saw faces turn, expressions of surprise and admiration, as people wondered if they were dreaming. "She is not just a woman," they thought, "she is a star." And you, upon hearing these unspoken thoughts, smiled. "Yes, I am a star. I am made of cosmic dust and dreams."

And amid the dance of the stars and the glow of the city, you began to realize that flying was not just an escape but an affirmation of who you were. The chains of unrequited love, of a pain that once anchored you, dissolved like mist at dawn as you ventured to new heights, exploring the vast sky of your own existence.

Every movement, every turn and maneuver, was a declaration of independence, an ode to your celestial essence. You were not fleeing from Jason; you were liberating yourself from what he represented, the limitations you had imposed on yourself. "I am the cosmos in motion," you proclaimed silently as the stars seemed to shine brighter, as if celebrating your ascent.

On the horizon, the constellations danced, as if waiting for your arrival. "Come, show me the way" you whispered, feeling drawn to the promise of new adventures. Each bright star was a possibility, a new story waiting to be written, and you were ready to explore.

And so, you flew higher, farther, the wings of light beating in time with your heart. Gotham, the city of shadows, became a distant memory as you launched into a new chapter, not just as a traveler among the stars, but as a protagonist of your own saga.

The clouds became your cloak, soft and welcoming, as you danced among the constellations, each movement a cosmic choreography unfolding in the vast space. But even in this spectacle of freedom, a profound melancholy accompanied you, like a subtle shadow that wouldn't leave. The echo of unrequited love still pulsed in your chest, like a distant star that shines brightly but remains out of reach.

You floated among the stars, surrounded by the infinite beauty of the cosmos, and yet, amid all that vastness, your heart still whispered Jason's name. "You were my universe, even when you made me feel like second best," you murmured, the words dissolving into the vastness of space. The memory of his smile, the way he looked at you, was a flame that burned softly, warming your soul as the pain of distance consumed you.

The constellations above danced, but your dance was solitary. You remembered the nights he held you in his embrace, a place where you felt safe, even when doubts surrounded you. The connection between you was a fragile thread, made of shared laughter and unspoken promises, but now it felt like a nebulous memory, lost among the stars.

"You are still a part of me," you admitted, your heart tightening with longing. Each beat was a reminder that, even at a distance, your love persisted like a beacon in the storm. You were moving away, but the deepest part of you still wished he could see the light that was within you, that he could understand it was possible to love and let go at the same time.

And so, you allowed yourself to feel the pain, letting the melancholy flow through your veins like a river that never runs dry. The love you harbored for Jason was a sad song, a symphony echoing in your heart, reminding you that feelings don't always follow logic. You knew he didn't love you as you desired, but that didn't make your love any less real, any less beautiful.

"I am made of stars, but my heart still longs for you," you whispered, your voice nearly lost in the wind. This contradiction of feelings was the essence of your being: the struggle between freedom and desire, between pain and hope.

With each beat of your heart, you began to understand that perhaps love was a journey, not a destination. And even though Jason was not by your side, your love could be the light that guided you, a star that would never cease to shine, even amid darkness.

And so, you launched into the unknown, floating in the currents of space, with a heart that, although broken, still pulsed with love. You were a traveler among the stars, but your essence still held a piece of the past, a reminder of a love that, though unrequited, continued to illuminate your path.

.

.

.

.

And there he stood, Jason leaning against the edge of the rooftop, watching Gotham's lights spread like stars on the asphalt. The cold night wind whispered secrets that only he seemed to hear, while his heart beat in a dark and solemn rhythm. Since she had left, the city seemed darker, its shadows heavier, as if Gotham itself were mourning her absence.

The memory of her was a constant haunting him. It was as if she were still there, woven into his most cherished and painful memories. He remembered her eyes, so bright and full of hope, reflecting the light of the stars she always said were her best friends. Now, those stars seemed to be fading, one by one, in her absence.

"Why did you go?" Jason murmured to the night, the question echoing in his chest. Each word seemed to carry the weight of a million "ifs," a million moments that could never be reclaimed. He wanted to understand. He wanted to know why, even after all the challenges, she chose to leave Gotham—and, more importantly, leave him behind.

The void her departure created in his life felt like a black hole, sucking away all the light and hope he had accumulated. He recalled the promises they made, the dreams they shared under the glow of the moon, when everything seemed possible. But dreams were fragile, and promises, as ephemeral as the night breeze.

Jason felt the pain mix with anger. Why couldn't he be what she needed? Why couldn't he fight for her the way she deserved? It was a burden he couldn't escape, a scar on his soul that refused to heal.

"I didn't know," he whispered, his voice trembling with repressed emotion. "I didn't know you were going to leave."

And so, in the silent nights when the world seemed to be asleep, he found himself lost in his own memories. Each shared laugh, each furtive glance, each gentle touch��everything that once felt so simple now became a labyrinth of longing. Her absence was a persistent echo, a sad melody playing in his mind, reminding him of what he had lost.

Jason wanted to believe he could move on, that he could leave that love behind. But the truth was, his heart was still tied to her, an anchor keeping him from navigating the turbulent waters of his life. Yet still, he found himself waiting, as if, somewhere in the cosmos, she might return and rewrite the ending of their story.

"If you ever come back," he said to the night, hope tinting his words with a faint glow, "I will be here. I will always be here."

The words fell away like leaves in the wind, getting lost in the vastness of the night sky. Jason knelt, his eyes absorbing the tangle of lights flickering in the city, like stars trapped in a universe of concrete and shadows. Gotham, the metropolis of mysteries and memories, pulsed beneath his feet, and her absence made everything heavier, each shadow a reminder of a love still burning in his chest.

Days dragged on, each one a monotonous echo of pain and struggle, as he plunged into darkness, facing enemies and his own demons. The weight of the cape was an ephemeral comfort, a temporary distraction from the longing that consumed him. But the nights... oh, the nights were a silent torture, filled with the whisper of memories dancing around him like a gentle breeze. Her laughter still echoed in his mind, a lost song following him like a lullaby that would never let him sleep.

In every dark corner of Gotham, he searched for her, imagining her amidst the shadows, her bright eyes reflecting the city lights. He remembered how she moved, light as a feather, as if she were always a step away from touching the stars. It was in the little things that her absence hurt the most—the scent of the perfume she wore, the stories they shared under the moonlight, and the plans for a future that now seemed so distant.

Jason remembered the promises made beneath the mantle of the moon, when their dreams were as vast as the starry sky. Now, the moon felt more distant, the light that once united them now separated them. He found himself on the rooftop they used to share, a sacred space that now resonated with the echo of his loneliness. The wind blew, cold and cutting, as if it were aware of his torment, bringing with it the scent of the flowers she loved, a fragrance that now made him miss her all the more poignantly.

"I can't bear this absence," he confessed to the wind, the pain in his heart transforming into words that floated into the darkness. "I miss you, as if the stars have lost their shine."

The clouds drifted slowly, like shadows of a past that refused to disappear. The sky lit up here and there, each star a shimmering memory, and he found himself wondering if, somehow, she looked up too, sharing the same view, the same longing. The constellations, in their eternal dance, seemed to move in a familiar pattern, as if whispering secrets to one another, guardians of hopes and promises.

And so, in the stillness of the night, he made a promise to the very essence of the universe: he would not give up on the love that consumed him, even as shadows stretched around him. There was a flame inside him, stubborn and burning, that refused to be extinguished. If she ever decided to return, if the stars conspired in favor of their hearts, he would be there, arms wide open, ready to rewrite the story that should never have been interrupted.

"I will be here, always," he repeated, each word a whisper in the vast silence of the night, as if the universe were listening. "Always believing that one day the stars will bring you back to me."

And so, under the shimmering cloak of the sky, Jason kept her memory in his heart, a beacon of love that, even lost in the depths of pain, shone with the hope that, somewhere among the stars, she still thought of him. He dreamed of the day their paths would cross again, like aligned constellations, and the love he longed for would finally have the chance to bloom amidst the darkness.

The nights in Gotham were endless, like a distant echo of unfulfilled promises. Jason walked through the streets, enveloped in shadows and memories, where her presence still lingered at every corner, in every light flickering in the windows. It was as if the city were filled with traces of the love they once shared, and each beat of his heart was a reminder of what he had lost.

Her memory was a tapestry of feelings — laughter dancing in his mind, touches that felt warm as the sun, moments of pure happiness intertwined with the pain of loss. Days turned into months, but the longing did not diminish; on the contrary, it became a constant in his life, an invisible thread that connected him to her, even though the distance was insurmountable.

No matter how hard he tried to move on, there was always a piece of his heart trapped in that night she left, as if it were searching for a way back.

On top of a building, under the mantle of stars, Jason closed his eyes and let the wind envelop him. He remembered the moments when she made him laugh, the days they dreamed together under the open sky, their voices intertwined like the fate they should never have lost. "If you're out there," he called to the universe, "please hear me."

The silence of the night was profound, but Jason felt that the stars were listening. They twinkled as if dancing in response, each one reflecting a fraction of his pain and hope. He opened his eyes, the silver light illuminating his face, and let the longing wrap around him like a familiar blanket. "I can't forget," he confessed, the words escaping his lips like a lost whisper.

Hope burned in his heart, but there was also a weight of uncertainty. What would he do if she never returned? What if the stars were just that — tiny points of light in a vast emptiness, with no promise of reunion? Jason clenched his fists, battling against the anguish that threatened to consume him. He didn't want to believe it was all over; his love still pulsed, like a mantra that kept him alive on the coldest nights.

Then, amidst the darkness, a strange sensation began to emerge, as if the universe itself were responding to his cry. A stronger breeze brushed his face, and for a brief moment, he felt that the distance between them might not be so insurmountable after all. "If you can hear me," he pleaded, almost in a whisper, "please tell me you're still there."

A crack in the air caught his attention, and he looked up, watching the sky as if waiting for her to appear among the stars. Was it just an illusion? A cruel trick of the mind? But something inside him said there was more, that the connection they shared transcended time and space.

The clouds drifted slowly, like shadows of a past that refused to fade away. The sky lit up here and there, each star a shimmering memory, and he found himself wondering if, in some way, she looked up too, sharing the same view, the same longing. The constellations, in their eternal dance, seemed to move in a familiar pattern, as if whispering secrets to one another, guardians of hopes and promises.

He raised his arms, as if wanting to touch the stars, as if he could, for a brief moment, connect with her through the vastness of the universe. "Come back to me," he murmured, his voice almost lost in the whisper of the wind. "You are a part of me, and I am a part of you."

And so, in the stillness of the night, he made a promise to the very essence of the universe: he would not give up on the love that consumed him, even as the shadows stretched around him. There was a flame inside him, stubborn and fierce, that refused to be extinguished. If she ever decided to return, if the stars conspired in favor of their hearts, he would be there, arms open, ready to rewrite the story that should never have been interrupted.

"I will be here, always," he repeated, each word a whisper in the vast silence of the night, as if the universe were listening to him. "Always believing that one day the stars will bring you back to me."

And so, under the shimmering mantle of the sky, Jason kept her memory in his heart, a beacon of love that, even lost in the depths of pain, shone with the hope that, somewhere among the stars, she still thought of him. He dreamed of the day their paths would cross again, like aligned constellations, and the love he so longed for would finally have the chance to blossom amidst the darkness.

The nights in Gotham were eternal, like a distant echo of unfulfilled promises. Jason walked through the streets, wrapped in shadows and memories, where her presence still floated at every corner, in every light flickering in the windows. It was as if the city were filled with traces of the love they once shared, and every beat of his heart was a reminder of what he had lost.

"If you ever come back," he murmured one night, the sound of his words dissipating into the darkness, as if they were a prayer to the wind. Hope, a faint light in his chest, struggled to stay alive. He looked to the sky, where the stars shone like tiny beacons, and wondered if she still saw him, if her spirit wandered among distant constellations. "I will be here. I will always be here."

The memory of her was a tapestry of feelings — laughter dancing in his mind, touches that felt warm as the sun, moments of pure happiness intertwined with the suffering of loss. Days turned into months, but the longing did not diminish; rather, it became a constant in his life, an invisible thread that bound him to her, even if the distance was insurmountable.

He missed her in everything. In the songs echoing through the streets, in the unspoken words lingering in the air, in every fight he faced. No matter how hard he tried to move on, there was always a piece of his heart trapped in that night when she left, as if searching for a way back.

On top of a building, under the blanket of stars, Jason closed his eyes and let the wind envelop him. He remembered the moments when she made him laugh, the days when they dreamed together under the open sky, their voices intertwined like a fate they should never have lost. "If you are out there," he called to the universe, "please hear me."

The silence of the night was profound, but Jason felt that the stars were listening. They twinkled as if dancing in response, each reflecting a fraction of his pain and hope. He opened his eyes, the silvery light illuminating his face, and let the longing wrap around him like a familiar blanket. "I can't forget," he confessed, the words escaping his lips like a lost whisper.

As the gentle breeze caressed his skin, he thought of how she always had the ability to see through his deepest layers, to penetrate his defenses with a simple smile. There was a light in her that guided him, a glow that made him feel that even amidst the shadows, there was a path to follow. But now, that light was distant, and the world felt darker without her.

The memory of her eyes, bright and inquisitive, haunted him. "You always knew what to say," he continued, his voice heavy with an almost palpable sadness. "You always found the right words to bring me back to reality. Where are you now? What are you doing?"

Hope burned in his heart, but there was also a weight of uncertainty. What would he do if she didn't come back? What if the stars were just that — tiny points of light in a vast emptiness, with no promise of reunion? Jason clenched his fists, struggling against the anguish that threatened to consume him. He didn't want to believe it was all over; his love still pulsed, like a mantra that kept him alive on the coldest nights.

Then, amidst the darkness, a strange sensation began to emerge, as if the universe itself were responding to his cry. A stronger breeze brushed against his face, and for a brief moment, he felt that the distance between them might not be so insurmountable after all. "If you can hear me," he asked, almost in a whisper, "please tell me you are still there."

A crack in the air caught his attention, and he looked up, watching the sky as if expecting her to appear among the stars. Was it just an illusion? A cruel trick of the mind? But something inside him told him there was more, that the connection they shared transcended time and space.

"I will fight for you," he promised, determination intensifying in his heart. "I will do whatever it takes to bring you back." The thought of her presence gave him courage; he stood, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "If you are out there, know that I haven't given up. I never gave up."

The night continued, and Jason realized that even in his solitude, he was stronger than ever. The love he felt for her was an indomitable force, and he wouldn't allow darkness to consume him. The stars shone, and within his heart, he carried the hope that, somewhere between the constellations, she felt him too.

And so, as the city of Gotham breathed around him, he made a silent vow — that her light would never fade from his life, that, no matter the cost, he would continue to wait, to fight, and to love until the universe brought them together again.

Atop the building, wrapped in thoughts and memories, Jason remained seated, his eyes fixed on the stars that shone like tiny beacons of hope in the vastness of the night. He felt, with an almost palpable intensity, her presence embracing him, like a gentle breeze whispering secrets of a time that still pulsed in his heart.

"Jason..." Her voice, so familiar, danced in the breeze, a melody filling the silence with notes of love and longing. He closed his eyes, allowing those words to envelop him like a cloak, warming the cold that inhabited his soul.

"I've missed you," he murmured to the night, as if speaking directly to the stars. The echo of his own voice seemed like a confession, a surrender to the fragility of his feelings. "I've missed you every day, in every shadow that crossed my path."

"Sometimes, life separates us from those we love," she replied, her voice a gentle breeze caressing his face. "But that doesn't diminish the strength of what we feel. Distance doesn't erase the light we ignited together."

Jason slowly opened his eyes, the glow of the stars reflecting his tumultuous emotions. He remembered how she used to look at him, with those eyes that seemed to see beyond his defenses, penetrating to the core of his insecurities. "How can I move on without you?" he asked, the weight of his solitude echoing in his words.

"Trust your heart," she whispered, as if each letter were a drop of hope. "You are stronger than you imagine. Even when shadows close in, my light will always guide you. Never forget that."

The sensation of her presence wrapped around Jason like a warm embrace. He took a deep breath, feeling the scent of memories — shared laughter, whispered promises beneath the starry sky. "I promise I won't give up," he said, determination blooming from within. "I will fight for us. Always."

"And that is all I wish for," her voice continued, an echo of comfort amid the chaos of his thoughts. "You will always be my eternal warrior, and as long as there are stars in the sky, I will be by your side, no matter the distance."

Her words seemed like a chant rising to the night, bringing a touch of melancholy but also a sweet promise. Jason looked at the sky, where the stars shone brightly, as if dancing to the rhythm of his love. He felt that even without seeing her, she was closer than ever, her essence intertwined with each spark of light.

"When you return, I will be here, waiting," he declared, his heart pulsating with renewed hope. "And when I find you, there will be no more separation between us."

"I will always be waiting," her soft voice resonated, a melody echoing in his soul. "My love will always be with you, in every step you take."

And so, as the night stretched around him, Jason remained there, seated atop the building, his heart open to the universe. The promise of their love filled him with warmth, igniting a fire that no darkness could extinguish. He was a guardian, a warrior, ready to face whatever came next, knowing that the essence of their bond was stronger than any challenge they could face.

With each star that flickered in the sky, he felt hope rising, a flame that would guide him until the day they could finally be together again. The night whispered secrets, and he held tightly to her memory, knowing that love transcended time and space, weaving their fates together like constellations in an endless dance.

[yanderes-galore]

Fandom: Souls-Like Game

Character: Scrapped Watchman “Murphy” (Lies of P)

Pairing: Platonic

Type of Fic: Scenario

Plot Idea (or go off the rails if the idea isn't up to par ^^""): Human! Survivor! Darling was a teacher before the puppets of Krat went rogue and was a parental figure to many children before they were infected by the plague or murdered by rogue puppets. Darling was able to save one child and is fighting tooth and nail to not only escape but protect this one child.

Thank you for hearing me out. :)

I'm still incredibly new to Lies of P. However, Scrapped Watchman is like the third boss... so I don't need to know all the lore to write yet. I will continue watching cutscenes and lore videos though :) It looks so cool and the STORY is fantastic too!

Btw, if I got the whistle thing wrong my bad. The lore made it sound like kids used the whistle to summon him so that's what I was basing it on-

Cold Dark Streets

Yandere! Platonic! Scrapped Watchman "Murphy" Story

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Murder, Blood, Dark themes, Overprotective behavior, Kidnapping, Forced companionship.

You remember the days where things felt... simple. Before the city of Krat began to rot, before people died of plague or were torn by puppets in a frenzy... you were a teacher. A teacher who would teach the poor kids in the slums useful skills to survive.

You loved all the children who came to you for lessons. They were attached to you, you felt like a parent to them. Naturally... since they trusted you enough... you often heard childish rumors.

Such as nearly every kid in Krat obsessing over the mascot known affectionately as "Murphy".

You knew of such a puppet, the one condemned for being a hazard to kids due to its battery continuously discharging. There wasn't much you could do to stop the kids from seeing the mascot puppet. You simply told them to be careful... but were unfortunately not surprised when you hard of injuries involving the puppet....

Murphy... you forgot such a name ever since the city went downhill. All you ever focused on was surviving, avoiding malfunctioning puppets and preventing sickness the best you could. These streets... you remember them as being so lively...

Now they were just about as dead as many of the residents here.

When things began, many abandoned the children in the slums to fend for themselves. Many children had died as a result, the bloodbath staining the streets with many others. It was a cruel reminder that with one wrong move... you were as good as dead.

You were just happy to save one child.

The child you found was originally wounded on the street, a young boy, cowering before a malfunctioning puppet. You were quick to take a metal pipe from the ground and bash the head of the puppet in enough to take the boy with you. That was...

Do you even remember how long ago that was?

Ever since then you have become a surrogate parent for the young boy. Said boy only had the clothes on his back similar to you, far as you knew at least. You were quite protective of the boy when you took him in, said boy being around nine years old.

Protecting him made you remember your days as a teacher. The mere thought of him being attacked makes your grip around the metal pipe tighten. You may not have been able to save the rest...

But you'll save this one.

You are often on the move within Krat. It was a struggle to find sustainable food and survive frenzied puppets. So you often found yourself sneaking around areas.

City Hall was one such area. You had to cut through the area to look for supplies. Oddly enough... the boy by your side seemed oddly eager to be around here.

"We'll be safe here!" He chirps at you, causing you to look at him in confusion. Your hand was still tight around his smaller one as you quickly glance around.

"What makes you say that, my heart...?" You whisper, an uneasy feeling stirring in your gut.

"Murphy's here! He'd never hurt us!" He chimes, causing you to pause for a moment.

Murphy... you haven't heard such a name in forever. You vaguely recall the mascot the kids were so fixated on. Was... This kid also fond of the puppet?

That wasn't hard to believe....

You had no idea Murphy would even still be around. In fact, you were worried he would be. Murphy would never hurt children... but you...?

That... was another case entirely.

"... Were you close to Murphy?" You ask the boy beside you before he perks up, looking at you excitedly.

"Yeah! Me and my friends would blow whistles with Murphy all the time! It was so fun!" The young child rambles before going quiet, pulling a small item from his pocket. "We'd blow whistles... like this!"

You notice the young boy pull out and old police whistle. However, before you can stop him, he then put it to his mouth... blowing the small tool as it makes a shrill sound. You flinch a little at the sound, looking around.

You really should've stopped him... but the surrounding area was so quiet...

"Careful...!" You warn, looking around, "We can't alert any puppets... we need to go-"

Before you can make any attempt to leave, a whirring screech occurs along with the clicking of gears. You immediately look up, a large puppet sparking and crawling about the City Hall building. You don't waste time, grabbing the boy and running.

"Murphy...!" The boy cries, making your heart clench at his excitement. He didn't know how much danger you were really in... too young to understand.

You jump as suddenly the large bodied puppet smashes onto the ground as you run. The puppet looks like a hunchback police officer, peering red eyes scanning the area only to find you. A screech, one akin to a war cry, echoes as you try to flee from it.

The puppet is frenzied, running on all fours like a wild animal as it chases you. You try for the large door your entered through, yet the puppet quickly cuts you off. Warbled speech pierces through the air as the puppet stalks closer to you like a predator.

You then remember the whistle.

You quickly ask the boy for the whistle, the young kid giving you it quickly. He was beginning to feel scared at Murphy's frenzied state due to your panic. You waste no time blowing the whistle, the sound echoing through the area again.

The puppet... Murphy... pauses its hunt. The puppet closes his mouth, red eyes scanning you both over. Clicking gears go off as he tilts his head, sparking electricity occasionally spitting as it watches you.

The tension between you and the puppet is thick as the puppet studies you. He looks you over, noticing the child and the whistle. You hear Murphy's gears click and eyes blink as it takes in the information.

You jump when Murphy relents, crawling closer to greet you both with more warbled speech.

Your grip on the metal pipe is beyond tight now... yet you know a pipe won't do anything to Murphy. The whistle was certainly the best tool in this situation. In fact... Murphy now saw you as friend rather than foe.

While all other humans remain enemies to him.

"M-Murphy!" The young boy soon manages to say again once the puppet stops, Murphy's gaze quickly snapping back to him.

You watch hesitantly as the puppet appears to be friendly towards you and the young child you swore to protect. Perhaps he was right... with this whistle, Murphy saw you as friends. In fact...

Murphy himself was pleased to have friends again.

The old puppet originally had many friends. Many young children came to play with him near City Hall. Ever since the puppet frenzies began... Murphy was forced to watch his friends die.

But now, now that he's heard that whistle, Murphy was met with more friends. He was met with an old friend and you. Murphy couldn't help but listen as his old friend introduces you.

You had helped his friend...

Which meant you were also his friend.

The City Hall courtyard became a temporary spot for respite. While you were used to most puppets being hostile, Murphy just seemed affectionate if you were careful of his electrical arcs.

The puppet was quite aware of how dangerous he was with you.

You began to see Murphy as, well, a companion... but you couldn't stay forever. Staying in one place for too long could become problematic. Plus, you needed to find supplies to care for you and your... son.

Eventually you had to make it known to Murphy that you had to go...

But Murphy doesn't want his new friends to go.

When you try to make it known you need to provide for the child you took in, that you need to leave, Murphy screeches. The sound is once again that of a feral animal. You go to blow the whistle again, only for Murphy to ignore it.

He just found new friends...

You weren't going to leave him alone again, were you?

Before you know it, the puppet snatches you into his arms in a lightning fast grasp. You struggle in his hold, the boy tightly pressed to your body in a tight hold. Murphy ignores your scolding and the child's cries.

He was careful to not harm you with his battery as he begins to crawl the building of City Hall again. He doesn't understand why you'd want to leave. Did you really want to abandon him...?

Your reasoning does not matter to him... unlike other puppets, he can feel emotions.

His emotions tell him he doesn't wish to be alone again...

So he'll never be alone again... not if he keeps you both hidden away from everyone.

[poisonousroxstar]

Imagine:

Yandere Sayaka Miki

Contains: character death (not reader), yandere themes, spoilers for Madoka Magica.

Sayaka is a devoted yandere. Above all else, she cares about you, and goes out of her way to please you and/or make you happy. But she's also a delusional yandere, having unrealistic expectations of you and your relationship.

She spends almost all her time with you. It can be listening to music, drawing, doing things that only interest you. Even doing nothing at all is enough for her, just being in your presence is fulfilling.

Sayaka acts first, thinks later. Any wish Sayaka makes will be centered around you, something that'll make you happy or beneficial. She'll say to herself that it was only to make you happy. But deep down, Sayaka craves your gratitude. She wants you to notice her, to acknowledge her as your best friend... Or more.

Once she becomes a magical girl, Sayaka automatically becomes your white knight. She was already dedicated to you, but now, she's invested her entire new life into keeping you safe and sound - she wants to be your hero. Your only hero.

Even if you're a Magical Person yourself, she'll fight tooth and nail so you won't get hurt. She gets especially antsy and reactive when Kyoko comes into the picture, since she loves to target you just so she can get under Sayaka's skin. It's during one of these sessions with Kyoko that Sayaka displays her less 'heroic' side, aiming to kill Kyoko for even touching you. She'll recognise afterwards that what she did isn't what a true hero would do, but quickly justify it by saying to herself that it was to keep you safe.

After the truth of being a magical girl is revealed, Sayaka spirals. It's small at first, with her frustrations and questions aimed at Kyubey. Then her doubts begin to bubble to the surface, bringing forth newfound insecurities and strengthening old ones - eventually, she just sees herself as a corpse pretending to be alive, and she isn't worthy of being around you.

Even if you're another magical person, it won't stop her belief. If anything, it only makes things worse for her; you're both undead, how could you two ever love each other? Wouldn't it be wrong? It has to be.

In the time it takes for all her grief and sorrows to build up, she may even end up hurting you in the process - never physically, but verbally. It happens one day, when her soul gem is dark and her body is haggard from fighting witches, that you ask her if she's alright, and she tells you tiredly she is. But you press on, calling her out on her bluff and asks her what's really going on, and that's when it all goes down.

She bitterly replies that what happened to her, what she's become, was done in your name, for your happiness. She loves you, she loves you so much... But you couldn't love her the same way she loves you. She gave you her entire being, but you couldn't do the same. And now you go around the place, so freely and carelessly, while she suffers alone, without you.

Her verbal lashing is even more intense if you're a magical person yourself. Why didn't you say anything about this? How could you let her become a zombie? Could you become a living corpse?

Only after what she's said, so meanly and so unwarranted, that she runs away from her, demanding you don't follow her. And in her head, she's tearing into herself.

"How could I say that?!" "To the one I loved the most?!" "I really am a monster now!!"

As she sits in the train station by herself, soul gem in hand, you approach her, finding her alone. She apologizes, yet refuses to look up at you, eyes fixed to the ground.

She confesses, to everything; she confesses what she wished for was something for you, she confesses her deep insecurities and the despair and rage and jealousy that grew within her watching you be with others or others who hurt you in some way; she confesses her unyielding love for you, and how she knows you could never truly love her the same way she loves you. No matter what, it just wasn't meant to be.

And she turns to you, her eyes wet with tears of heartache, her soul gem in hand, blackened by despair, she offers you a weak smile...

"I was stupid... So stupid..."

And Oktavia von Seckendorff is born, Sayaka's witch. Sayaka's despair.

If you're a human, there's no way for you to escape. Oktavia will keep you in her labyrinth forever and ever, an endless melody that you two loved playing in the background; her minions, disturbing resembling you in a twisted manner, spin and dance and keep you in place, pushing you down whenever you try to leave.

If you're a magical person, you'll notice Oktavia is bizarrely more refrain from directly attacking you, although her rage is blinding and indiscriminate if she sees another next to you. You are the only one who can quickly dispatch Oktavia without severe sacrifice, but her downfall doesn't make her passing easier.

As her grief seed falls to the ground, your reward for defeating the witch, the harsh reality of Sayaka's death makes the fruit of your labour less sweet then it was.

Despite her despair, despite her crushed dreams and ideals, Sayaka loved you more than you know. In another, ideal life, maybe you both could've thrived together. You both could've been the heroes of hope for all magical people across the world.

In another life...

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Just saw your thunder empress and besides wanting more of her, there's a character i really wonder what they would do in that situation. What if it was Cinder that went back in time? Would she even want to come back to remnant? Would she mellow down?

But i still also want more Nora

This may be my greatest Alternative Rusted Knight yet!

Blake: *Raising Gambol Shroud* Cinder.

Weiss: *Readying Glyphs* We don't want to fight-

The Wildfire Mage: Then I would be most gracious if you were to lower your weapons!

Yang: *Guarding Ruby* What? Why would we do that?

The Wildfire Mage: *Brushing the hair out of her face* Because I am not this "Cinder" you speak of - That name is familiar, but I cannot recall where i might've heard it before.

_WBY: *wary glances at each other*

Ruby: Are- Are You okay?

The Wildfire Mage: I ... my memory is, as always, somewhat faulty, but putting that aside for the moment, I am quite well! More than that, despite your mistaken belief that I am "Cinder", I am quite happy to see more humans! The last two I met were so ... So ...

Blake: Do you think more people than Alyx have fallen down here?

Weiss: Well ... We did?

Yang: She's just been staring into the distance for a minute now.

Ruby: Uhm, excuse me? Miss Mage?

The Wildfire Mage: Hmm? Oh! Yes! You four! I should count myself Lucky to meet such prolific Hunters given the seeming Multiplication of Jabberwockers! It's very well, given Lewis and ... And Alyx ... uh ... were ...

The Wildfire Mage: ...

The Wildfire Mage: They were but Children! They should not have had to escape such horrid beasts, much like the kind they informed me of from their home! With so many Deadly being running about back there, I see not why they would want to leave the Ever After and return to "Remnant!"

The Wildfire Mage: After all here is safe, sound, and protected from ... from ...

The Wildfire Mage: ... Uh, again my apologies, My mind is scattered as ashes to Wind! perhaps we should head to my home - quickly, before it becomes too dark to travel!

~In the Punderstorm~

Reflection: What are you doing ...

The Wildfire Mage: Why do you follow me? Hear your voice in those moments-

Reflection: We are strong now ... Need no one ...

The Wildfire Mage: To be alone is to suffer; I know you know that.

Reflection: Alyx ... She wrote lewis out of her story ... She is like us-

The Wildfire Mage: She may be like you But I am no liar, nor a Deciever! You are a cruel, injured being. Leave me be.

Reflection: I am you.

The Wildfire Mage: By what means?

Reflection: I am your Truth. You Restrain us, when we are strong enough to do whatever we want!

The Wildfire Mage: Indeed We are, And I quite enjoy the freedom to be kind.

Reflection: Kindness is WEAKNESS.

The Wildfire Mage: It is as much as solitude.

~The next day, after getting attacked by Neo and her Jabberwockers~

The Wildfire Mage: So many souls ... Those - Those Jabberwockers are chasing you!

Ruby: I- I-

The Wildfire Mage: What? YOU WHAT?

The Wildfire Mage: All you ever do is get in my way! You ruin all of my PLANS You PETULANT, SELFISH GIRL!

The Wildfire Mage: You help EVERYONE but ME!

The Wildfire Mage: And of course NEO-

The Wildfire Mage: ... Neo ...

_WBY: *Ready weapons*

The Wildfire Mage: I ... I remember you all now ...

Cinder: ... I ... I remember myself now ...

Cinder: ... Leave. I don't know how to get to the tree. I don't care. Here? In the Ever After? No one is after me - No one was ...

Cinder: I'm sick of this. I'm sick of facing you. Leave.

Weiss: Really? Just like that? After everything you've done to us-

Cinder: Yes. Now go before I change my mind on fighting you.

WBY: ...

Yang: *Collapsing Ember Celica* Fine. We'll go.

Blake: ... Thank you for not fighting us Cinder.

Weiss: Are you two Serious! She's nearly Killed me before!

Yang: Adam Nearly Killed us! If we fight her, someone isn't making it out of here! I- We- I don't-

Blake: *Taking Yang's hand* We don't want more blood on our hands Weiss. Even if we win, we just prove her right.

Weiss: ... Fine. Ruby Where do we- Ruby? RUBY!

~Later~

Cinder: *Making Tea for herself*

Reflection: They could use our assistance.

Cinder: Shouldn't you be locked in a punderstorm?

Wildfire Mage: We are strong enough to do whatever we desire. I do not wish to be heard in lacking moments.

Cinder: Fine. Why Should we help them?

Wildfire Mage: They need it.

Cinder: They've never helped me.

Wildfire Mage: You've only hurt them.

Cinder: Well that's just not fair for me to have to help them when no one's ever helped me!

Wildfire Mage: It is not. Alyx was an active hinderance - you lied and deceived them into believing you were Me, so that you could follow them on their story, to escape.

Cinder: ... And?

Wildfire Mage: Your heart is full of rage. Justified against the world, but not those you've hurt most. So many have fallen by your hand, so many that lived good lives, that, if they were given the chance, would've saved you.

Cinder: ...

Wildfire Mage: You hate the thought of kindness because you never experienced it. It infuriates you because it's given to all others.

Wildfire Mage: Every burning thought has been brought about by those that control you. Your arm was as much a collar as Madam's, burning and binding you to your master's will.

Wildfire Mage: You have no master now, aside from yourself.

Cinder: And why should I listen to you.

Wildfire Mage: I am your truth. They restrained us, and now we are strong enough to do whatever we want.

Cinder: ... I want to be free ... I want freedom ...

Wildfire Mage: Then kindness will be our strength, but only if we share it with them, and they share it with us.

~~~~~

REDEMPTION ARC REDEMPTION ARC REDEMPTION ARC-

[itslouisan]

Time to have C!Techno headcannons!!!

Heyo, seems like finally I reached my 2nd favorite cc ever! I think techno's character is REALLY interesting, with great writing and details and I can definitely add some hc of my own in there, so without further ado, let's go!

(btw @syndicatedsystem you might like some of my headcannons involving Jschlatt and Techno I talk about here so yeah! Also feel free to discuss em' with me or make asks abt it, hell your blog inspires me a lot)

(I lost the name of the artist if anyone knows please tell me)

• Techno has some braids in his hair, the longer, the more he values the person

Longest: Philza, it's braided with gold details

2nd longest: Ranboo, has a amethyst crystal for purple

Mid-term: Wilbur, he braided it in consideration of a battle friend and some good times with Will, he doesn't hate or likes Wilbur, but still can't deny they do have a connection

Shortest: Tommy.

• Techno prepared a space in the cabin for Tommy in case some day, his demons and the hell he was looking for, finally was found, he'd welcome Tommy with open arms, since he'd view that the kid suffered enough and had the time to change and face any consequences he'd need to face, the space is safe, always available, but, he'd never tell Tommy that, he keeps it hidden, he's not ready to be vulnerable to the demon child again and openly say Tommy could count on him, not until Tommy makes the first step.

• Keeps the pickaxe that blinded Quackity as a trophy, this and keeps all weapons from powerful enemies with him as a reminder of a great battle he won once again

• Likes to write poetry about people and events, he'd never give them to the person, but keep it in a dusty small box in his room in the attic of the cabin

• OKAY, LET'S ALL AGREE TECHNO IS ARO/ACE? GOOD.

• Techno was friends with Jschlatt before everything went to hell, they liked to talk about random bs while watching the fire crack at night and drink some cheap booze for Jschlatt and coffee for Techno

• I view Techno also having some boar traits, so yeah territorial as FUCK don't mess with his stuff or house, also he chases pray like crazy and can eat almost anything without a problem due to that

• Doesn't CARE for alcohol, just doesn't like the idea of having a hangover afterwards since he'd be unable to fight the next day

• Would gossip with Jschlatt, Tommy and the syndicate like, ABOUT EVERYTHING, I imagine him and Jschlatt favorite hobby is shit talking people they hate

• Techno being aro/ace also means if you flirt with him, he'll just stare at your soul and bully the shit out of you, sometimes calls Phil and/or Jschlatt to roast the shit out of the person, also WILL defend himself from any creeps and defend his friends from ANY strange people since for him touch is STRICTLY a death sentence and something that takes time

• Techno smokes when stressed or in the syndicate room, making Phil always carry an extra lighter for him just in case, the 2 used to be smoking buddies before Phil quit when he adopted Chayanne and Tallulah

• Techno in the QSMP is an entity, a god watching above everyone but never leaving Phil side and the eggs side, sometimes he'd talk to Tallulah directly, or influence Phil like a voice in his head to do the right thing in his vision or appear to Chayanne in his dreams to have a chat

• Can and will drink blood from the enemies

• Loves to talk about skulls and anatomy of the body in general, a dark fact, due to respect to Jschlatt, after he died (not considering revival, I view revival as either the decomposed body coming back to life in a LESS but STILL fucked up state or a kind of new body that is the users body in the afterlife coming to the alive realm, if you guys want, I can make a post about this) picked and kept Jschlatt sheep skull, with horns and everything

(art by sadist)

• Would talk about historical wars and battles with his own analysis and commentaries on it, making a great history teacher

• totally collects greek mythology stuff, books, items, anything.

• Has a couple of tattoos but one that is pretty badass is a wither skull with red smoke on his ribs in the right, a tattoo of a emerald in the inside of his left wrist, a tattoo of a squid with a fork on it's head in reference to the potato war on his right wrist really tiny and "everything starts with blood" and "the voices demand blood" written in his tights

• My boy 100% has piercings due to piglin culture, around 75% of them being made of gold

[ender-reader]

DP X DC/Marvel Prompt 1#

sooo I've had this mind obsession about giant fluffy monsters so why not jam Danny and DC/Marvel into this mess to make a cool prompt?

Summary: Danny's been sealed away in an ancient temple. someone (could be a hero or a scientist that deals with ancient stuff, i forgot what they're called) finds the entrance but cant go past that. they call Batman/Tony and/or Constanaine/Dr.strange for help(probably along with one of the batkids or Spiderman). Chaos ensues.

What exactly happened to Danny: Danny's been sealed away in an ancient temple during a a time mission from CW that caused him to go in his eldritch horror form and getting sealed away in a temple using chains and of course: Blood blossoms but not to the extent that they continually hurt him, just enough to keep him sealed away, after all: if you hurt a baby ghost, it probably wont end well.

Note: this can be ghost king danny if you want.

and i know i got the characters wrong but im trying, its been a while since i watched marvel

onto the somewhat detailed prompt:

DP/Marvel(or DC, just change who the characters are):

Wang (i think that was his name? the guy that always doubts dr.strange but helps him anyways) has picked up a strange magic signature somewhere around Egypt, after he decided to go and investigate himself, he found an entrance to a sealed ancient temple with a few dead bodies nearly hidden by sand. When he tried to enter, he felt death magic pulse through him and he quickly moved his hand away, whatever was in there, whoever put the seal on this temple wanted to either keep whatever's outside out... or whatever's inside in. he didnt like this not one bit, he does the one thing that would make sense (kinda in his deep opinion): he goes to Steven Strange.

"So your telling me, that you found an ancient temple that's radiating 'infinite realm' kind of death magic and tried to enter it ON.YOUR.OWN?" Strange said rubbing his nose bridge with a sigh. "I dont get whats wrong with that? Death magic's still magic and you two are wizards." Tony said raising a judgemental eyebrow at Strange.

"yes thats true, BUT, infinite realm magic's not like normal magic, not even normal death magic." Wang explained raising a finger at the 'but'. "so? its still magic? or does it have diffrent properties?" Peter, tired of only listening decided to start asking some questions to understand the situation better.

"to understand infinite realm magic, first you need to know what are the infinite realms" Strange countered with a heavy tone, looking at Tony and Peter.

"Strange, we are not to speak of the dead so openly" Wang hissed turning to look at Steven. "oh come on, they're gonna find out eventually and you know it, better they know or one of them gets killed trying to find out." Strange said furrowing his brows glancing around him as if expecting something to attack him. Wang only grumbled sitting on a chair that was not there before.

"the infinite realms is a realm between worlds, like a pocket dimension. it is also known as the realm of the dead, the realm of ghosts, souls, and spirits. it is neither heaven or hell, it is were the dead go when they have too strong obsessions that keep them going, it is where the dead go when they don't want to let go of their life. it has its culture, rulers, ghost types, Gods and Goddesses called Ancients, islands of different shapes and sizes. it also has: A Ghost King, one who rules all the kingdoms, tribes and all ghosts in the infinite realms. they have the title of High King. They run on a substance called ectoplasm, which can be considered the main source of infinite realm magic.

Do not mess with the dead and they will not mess with you. Don't engage with infinite realm inhabitants because the risks are far too high. The last high king was Piriah Dark, he went mad and devoured worlds, not much is known about the new High King, all we know is that he was only around 2 death years old which in on its own baffling." Strange said crossing his arm, his voice was heavy with danger and seriousness.

"so we DON'T mess with the temple?" Peter asked curiously. "..." Wang and Strange didn't know how to answer that.

i cant help but imagine this scene happening:

Danny: *giant chained eldritch horror* *narrows eyes and hisses*

Bruce/Tony, Constantane/dr.Strange and Zatanna/Wang: "..." *intimidated and are ready to fight if needed*

one of the batkids/Peter: "...omg its like a giant kitten!" *proceeds to pet said giant eldritch horror*

the adults: "..." *horrified

Danny: "..." *purrs*

if someone uses this please tag me and maybe send the link please?

[dualcastimpact]

Just went through the confrontation with Nabriales and Moenbryda's sacrifice (again) and out of all the major deaths that the story keeps coming back to, Moenbryda and Papalymo's feel the least organic, at least in terms of building up that emotional rapport with the Warrior of Light and/or player enough for the Warrior of Light and/or player to be impacted by their passing. Haurchefant interacts prominently with the Warrior of Light and is a reoccurring character all the way from ARR and halfway into Heavensward. We get a whole expansion with Ysayle. We get a whole expansion with Ardbert. Emet-Selch gets TWO expansions, and even Venat and Hythlodaeus get two whole dedicated levels for us to hang out with. You can't argue the same for Moenbryda and Papalymo, who barely interact with the Warrior of Light and in fact never seem to have any significant one-to-one moments with them.

You could argue that Moenbryda's and Papalymo's deaths don't in fact affect the Warrior of Light all too badly like the others' deaths do—and you'd be right! Moenbryda's death is Urianger's grief. Papalymo's death is Lyse's grief. The Warrior of Light doesn't grieve them the way they grieve Haurchefant or Ysayle, or Ardbert, or the Ancients they meet in Elpis, and that's not the issue. The issue is that the game, especially with Moenbryda, tries to make the player feel something for their deaths when they've not allowed the player to engage with the characters enough for us to feel anything for their passing. I'd argue I feel worse about Wilred dying than I did for Moenbryda and Papalymo, and that's because we see so much more of him with the Little Ala Mhigo sequence and his interactions with us while he was in the Crystal Braves; we see him grow as a character, however brief and unrelated to us it was, and we don't get that with Moenbryda and Papalymo.

To make matters worse, Moenbryda's and Papalymo's deaths were driven by their connection to Louisoix: Moenbryda in wishing to understand his motivations for leaving her behind and sacrificing himself for the sake of some no-name place called Eorzea, and Papalymo in wishing to prove himself Louisoix's finest pupil, following his master's footsteps in sacrificing himself to temporarily seal the dread primal Shinryu. Again, that's not the issue—the issue is that ARR only gives us crumbs about Louisoix and the Circle of Knowing, crumbs that are nowhere near enough to make us care about him! Oh, Moenbryda and Papalymo are both paying homage to Louisoix through their sacrifice? Oh well, nothing to do with me! I don't know anything about Louisoix to warrant my caring!

It wouldn't be such an aggravation if the story doesn't insist on making the player care. You have a sequence with Moenbryda's parents comforting Urianger in Endwalker, and there's a sidequest involving Papalymo's father as well—their deaths are not forgotten! They're hearkened back to! They're even included in this image of the fallen made floating in the aetherial sea!

Clearly their sacrifice is considered as major as Minfilia's and Haurchefant's and Ysayle's, which would make sense if the game bothered to put in the effort to make us care about Moenbryda and Papalymo in the first place!

Okay. Rant over. I initially wanted to write about how Raginmar very likely called Kirika to help heal Moenbryda before he went after Nabriales and Minfilia—in-game it makes sense for the Warrior of Light to not be able to call anyone, but by post-ARR Raginmar's adventuring party is pretty established; they're all connected by linkpearls and can contact each other in an emergency, and Moenbryda getting blasted in the stomach by a column of dark aether very much counts as an emergency. There's one issue with that scenario, however:

Papalymo: "She was counting on the theory that a soul's aether burns brightest at the moment of its passing. A scholar until the very end..."

Moenbryda was dying when she gave up her life to temper the aetherial blade. That was the theory she was counting on: that her soul's aether, near its end, would burn brightest at the second of her death and be enough to augment the aetherial blade.

Thancred: "She gave her life to temper the blade of Light? I...I have no words."

If Raginmar was able to get Kirika to come and try to heal Moenbryda, that makes this plot point implausible. She wouldn't have been near death if a healer was at hand. A solution to that problem would be Kirika actually failing to heal Moenbryda and managing to only staunch the wound instead of healing it, but that's additional trauma for Kirika that I have to think about and work on, and I do not have the time for that— oh no— I can feel the brainworms coming—