#leaving work early as I am still dying and suffering

[323cutie]

Later..

i know we've established that like, i ult yunho and will never be able to write enough pretty little stories for him. But if i dropped another yuyu drabble would y'all be mad

[me-and-my-3lovers]

First Time

Human!Sam x Alpha!Male!Reader

The world is split between ABO and normal humans. You are an alpha hunter with the Winchesters, and live in the bunker. This takes place around season 8, pre trials.

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2700

Warnings: Self loathing, slight Dub-con elements, Angst, A/B/O dynamics, foreplay, oral sex, male fingering, male-on-male sex, knotting, scenting, no proofread

Masterlist

--

You were warm and happy and wanted to stay in bed forever. Unfortunately, your alarm clock was screaming at you. It was only 9 AM, far too early to wake up, but, alas, you were awake. You rose from your nice and cozy bed and went to the kitchen. When you arrived, Dean was making coffee and Sam had his nose in a book. You greeted them as best you could before grabbing a bowl of cereal. The first bite was delicious, the cereal was still crunchy but not soggy, perfect.

"How does your rut work?" Dean asked while putting away the milk.

"Dean..." Sam warned from the bar stool.

You paused, a spoon of cereal halfway to your mouth, "You have the internet; look it up." You savored the taste of the cereal, eager for the conversation to end.

"But isn't that like expecting sex to be like a porno?" You stared at Dean, taken aback by his metaphor.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, "Of course, you find a way to bring it back to porn, Dean."

You ignored Dean's question and took another bite of your cereal. Dean sat beside you, staring as you shoveled the rest of the cereal into your mouth. The silence was deafening. The three of you sat, ignoring each other before you decided to get up and put your bowl in the sink.

"Why do you even want to know about my rut?" You asked, breaking the silence.

"We've been hunting together for years, and now we're living in the bunker, and we walked in during it..." Dean started scratching the back of his head, trying to find the words to continue.

"Ok, and?" You prompted.

"We had to call Cas in to stop you from dying." Dean blurts out.

You tensed at Dean's words. It wasn't untrue that your rut almost killed you last time, but calling Cas was unnecessary. Sam stared between you and his brother, waiting for any sign of violence.

"That was unnecessary." You started to walk to your room, not wanting to be around Dean anymore.

"I didn't mean it like that," Dean grabbed your arm and spun you to face him. "I'm worried about you, we're worried about you."

You glanced between him and Sam for a few moments. "Then you'll let me handle my rut how I see fit." You resume the walk to the safety of your room.

"That doesn't explain why you had a fever of 107 and were coughing up blood." Dean follows after you. Sam stood up and followed close behind, not trusting the situation to die down.

"I mean, heats and ruts are a reproductive thing, alphas and omegas aren't meant to go through them alone." You stop at the door to your room and turn back toward Dean and Sam. "Listen, I've gone through every rut since I was seventeen by myself and survived. Now if you don't mind, leave."

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes before stomping away.

Sam looked at you with those puppy dog eyes. "What if you weren’t alone?" Sam asked.

"No, I am not subjecting someone, anyone, to me on my rut." You turned around to open your room. "If you think Dean is insufferable about the Impala..." you whistle at the end of your sentence for emphasis. "Like I said," you jump on your bed and face Sam, your hands behind your head, "I've been doing this for twenty-one years, I'm good."

Sam sat at the foot of your bed, resting his hand on your ankle. "You were screaming in pain."

"Sam, drop it."

"No! We came home and found you half dead! I won't let you go through that again."

You sat up, staring Sam dead in the eyes. "You weren't supposed to see that..." You flopped back down onto your bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Well we did see it, and you have been suffering like that for twenty-one years?" Sam sighed and hung his head "I care about you, I- I've cared about you for a long time."

"This is more than caring, Sam. The only way you could help me through my rut is degrading."

"If you think two men having sex is degrading, then I have some harsh realities for you in the twenty-first century." Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes at your antics.

"It isn't just sex, it's..." You couldn't find the right word to describe it. "You can't describe the violence of being with an alpha during their rut, you'd be subjecting yourself to my worst parts. It's not-" Sam's lips met yours, silencing you. The kiss was fleeting, over before you could react. Sam rested his head against yours and brought your hand to his cheek.

"You don't have to be alone, I'm here for you, always." Sam kissed your palm.

"You don't get it, Sam," you whispered. "I can't let you help."

"Why not?" Sam brought his free hand to rest on your neck, "I want to do this, for you."

You leaned into Sam's touch, craving more. "You'll never be able to look at me the same way again, and I don't want to lose what we have."

"But if you don't let me help then I could lose you forever." Sam kissed you as hard as he could, "I don't want to lose you."

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in. When you opened your eyes again Sam had the best puppy dog eyes he could muster plastered on his face.

"You're trying to lay it on thick aren't you," you chuckle, knowing you couldn't say no to Sam's puppy dog eyes.

"Is it working?"

"If, and that is a big if. If I let you help me, can I call you Sammy?"

--

You'd been shifting your room around for hours, trying to make the perfect nest. You took a lot of Sam's shirts and blankets to place around your mattress on the floor, but it still didn't feel right.

"Not comfy enough... what makes... comfy?" you knelt in the middle of the nest contemplating.

"PILLOWS!!" San came barging in with what seemed to be all the pillows in the bunker.

"Pillows..." You nodded your head before taking the pillows from Sam and arranging them.

"This looks like a proper nest." Sam came up behind you and kissed your cheek. "I love it."

"Are you sure you wanna do this Sammy?" You asked, "You don't have to."

"I want to, I want to help." Sam moved to face you and kissed you.

You pulled Sam against you and lowered him into the nest.

"Your eyes, they're gold!" Sam said, bringing his hand to caress your cheek. You leaned into his touch.

"It's my rut, my wolf... it's trying to take over. I can make it go away, give me a moment." You closed your eyes and tried to focus on locking your wolf away.

"Don't, I like it." Sam leaned up to kiss you again, breaking your concentration.

Sam started moving his giant spider legs to wrap around your waist. You could his semi-hard boner through his jeans, as his ground up into you. You broke the kiss to rid Sam of his shirt and jeans. Once you and Sam were down to your underwear, you went back to attacking Sam's mouth with your own.

You kissed down his jaw, stopping at his neck, savoring the smell of Books and firewood coming off of him. It was intoxicating. You started sucking and nipping at Sam's neck, leaving deep purple marks behind.

"Ow!" Sam slapped you away, hard. "A little aggressive with the love bites," Sam grumbled.

"Sorry," You lifted your head to look him in the eye, "I can't help myself. An omega's mating gland is around their neck, alphas tend to fixate on that area." You tried to leave gentler kisses on his neck, moving down his body.

You gave a light suck to each of Sam's nipples, causing him to moan. You moved further south, nipping and licking at his stomach, making sure there wasn't a patch of skin that went untouched, stopping at the waistband of Sam's underwear. Catching your breath, Sam took that time to rid himself of his underwear. He was rock hard and leaking. You wasted no time sucking him down until you gagged. He fisted his hands in your hair, pushing your head down further. You sucked harder, using your tongue to circle the head of his dick. Sam tried thrusting up into your throat, but you pulled off him.

Flipping him onto his stomach, you separated his ass cheeks and licked a stripe from his balls to his asshole, causing Sam to shiver.

"Are you sure about this Sammy?"

"Yes!"

You dove straight in, pushing your tongue past the tight ring of muscle. Sam's moan was downright animalistic. You moved your hands to Sam’s hips, holding him in place while your tongue explored him. You worked your tongue deeper into his hole, getting him relaxed and used to the feeling.

"I'm ready for you, come fuck me, baby."

You withdrew from Sam's ass and flipped him on his back again. You moved up His body, trailing kisses from his stomach to his titties, sucking each nipple. When you got back up to Sam's mouth, you maneuvered both of you so you were sitting up and Sam was straddling you.

"What will it feel like when you... you know..." Sam made crude hand gestures to explain what he didn't say.

"When I knot you?" Sam nodded his head. "I don't know."

"How do you not know?!" Sam whisper-shouted. "Haven't any of your other partners described what it's like?"

Your body flushed under Sam's expectant gaze. "...I've never..." You try to look anywhere but Sam's eyes.

"Are you a virgin?" Sam asked, a teasing smile forming on his stupidly perfect face.

"NO! I just... typically, people aren't interested in..." 'Me' you wanted to say, "I've never knotted anyone," You mumbled, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. That familiar pang of rejection started festering in your chest. "If you don't want to do this, we don't have to. You can go now." You pulled away from Sam and turned over.

"No, no, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Go. Now." You growled out.

Sam grabbed his clothes and left your room without another word, leaving you alone as the pain of your oncoming rut and rejection radiated through your body. You could feel hot tears streaming down your face as you start tearing down the nest you made. You threw pillows and shirts out of the room, a dull ache settling in your chest. As more and more of the nest got thrown out, the pain became more distinguished. It festered in your heart. It was only when the last of Sam's scent was flung out of the room that the agony started. A dull throbbing in your heart turned into stabbing pain. You screamed, unable to hold it in anymore.

--

White-hot, searing pain ran through you, starting at your heart and radiating to your limbs. You felt like screaming, but the most you could muster at this point was a pained whimper, your vocal cords raw from the first few hours of screaming and crying. It felt like your heart was ripping itself apart while your body was attempting spontaneous combustion. You tried to rut against something, in a pitiful attempt to relieve some of the pain. Your body retaliated by sending another wave of pain through you.

'You deserve this,' you heard in the back of your mind, 'No one wants to be with a freak like you, a freak of nature. A sideshow attraction.' You whimpered again, the words cutting deep into your heart. You looked around the room; the scattered remnants of your nest stared back at you. 'It was stupid to think he wanted you,' the voice said again, 'All it brought you was pain and misery.' The voice was right; the rejection only made your rut more painful. As another wave of searing pain washed over you, you shut your eyes, and your mind curled into itself. Conciseness and thought gave way to animal instinct. 'A feral monster!'

A low, somber howl left your lips, one last cry for help, for a nonexistent mate to relieve the pain in your heart—the howl of a dying alpha.

"Shh, I'm here." Sam came into your room and crawled into the nest, pulling you closer to him. He kissed your forehead, "You're gonna be ok." Sam's hand petted your hair while he kept whispering assurances to you.

You stopped Sam's movements to kiss him. The kiss became more passionate and hungry when Sam didn't pull away. When you both had to pull away for air, you stared into his eyes. A whimper escaped your lips.

Sam shifted himself so that he was straddling you, "I got you." Sam affirmed, bending down to take your lips with his, grabbing the sides of your face and pulling you closer.

You bucked your hips against Sam's, causing both of you to moan. Sam started stroking your dick while stripping off his shirt and underwear. Very gingerly, Sam lowered himself onto you, hissing at the stretch. You sat up to rest your head against Sam's shoulder, mouth gently kissing the hickeys on his neck. Once Sam was fully seated your hands moved to rub circles on his thighs.

Sam took a minute to adjust before moving. He moved your hands to rest on his hips. You squeezed his hips harder as he bounced faster and faster. In a sudden bout of strength, you grabbed Sam and held him at the end of your dick. You stared into Sam's eyes before pulling him down to the knot.

"That's it alpha, come on baby," Sam whispered in your ear. Spurred on by Sam's words, you started trusting to match his bounces. Sam grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers. Your knot began to swell and catch on his ass. "I feel it, so close." Sam tossed his head back in ecstasy as hot ropes of cum spattered on the both of you. While Sam got lost in his high, you slowed his bouncing until he was resting on your dick.

As Sam came down from his high, he looked at you, puzzled. "Why didn't you knot me?"

Your body started to hurt again when he asked that. You shook your head and whimpered.

"You need to knot me to feel better," Sam said, covering your hands on his hips.

You shook your head and whimpered again, trying to roll Sam over to lie down.

Sam held onto your shoulders and started bouncing again, trying to get you to knot him. "Come on baby, you need to knot me." You tried again to get Sam to lie down, but he was too strong. Once Sam had enough momentum he slammed himself down over your knot, causing you to cum. As your knot locked you in place you bit Sam at the junction of his neck and shoulder, trying to claim him.

Sam moved his hands to play with your hair as you lapped at the mark you made. "There you go, baby. You feel better now?"

You nodded and nuzzled into Sam's neck. Sam kissed your forehead and finally let you roll him over to lie down. "Goodnight my love."

--

You woke up surrounded by the scent of bacon and batter. You sat up; the heat from your body had subsided, and the searing pain had turned into a dull thud. Looking around, the room was cleaned up, and your nest was remade. You shifted in the nest, moving some things around when the door opened, Sam walked in carrying a tray of blueberry waffles, bacon, and orange juice. You stared silently as he walked closer, wondering why Sam was bringing you breakfast. He placed the tray in your lap and sat beside you, curling into your side.

"Dean made us some breakfast. He said it was a treat for 'being such a good boy last night' Can you believe him?" Sam scoffed.

You remained silent, staring down at the plate in front of you.

"The waffles are getting cold," Sam said after a minute, grabbing a waffle and eating it. You stared at him until he looked at you.

"What happened last night?"

"What do you mean 'what happened last night'?" Sam sat up and rubbed the crumbs from his fingers back onto the plate.

"I can't remember anything after you left."

[literaryvein-reblogs]

hiii, i am writing my first book/novel. its highlighting d***th, romance, mystery, politics, pretty questionable characters w revenge, thriller and lots of women n power play. its my first book and im not that educated about such themes. but this rough plot i have in my mind is so beautiful that underperforming this excellent trope would be a shame....ive never written before so could you please what to do to actually write this kinda theme to my heart's satisfaction. I've never written a freaking chap before and now im really lost

Writing Ideas: Revenge Tropes

some tropes related to revenge, thriller, women, and power play

Afterlife Avenger: This trope involves the circumstance where a character explicitly still chooses to pursue conflicts against whatever's left of their hated target long after they've passed.

Best Served Cold: Named for the French (or Sicilian, or Klingon, or drow, depending on who you ask) proverb, "Revenge is a dish best served cold." At least in the case of drow, it also means one can have well-planned revenge and drive them mad with fear as a bonus.

Crusading Widow: The death or murder of their significant other motivates the character to seek revenge.

Defeat as Backstory: A protagonist (or some other character's backstory) in a story begins by having been defeated either before the story began, or early on in the story (often in a prologue).

Dying Curse: With his dying breath, a character wishes ill fortune upon his killers, or some other personal enemy.

Pay Evil unto Evil: In real life, the sort of thinking behind this trope is called "retributive justice".

Revenge Through Corruption: Instead of inflicting physical harm, the villain attacks the mind and soul.

Villain-by-Proxy Fallacy: When someone goes after not only a crime's perpetrator, but those who supplied the perpetrator or were otherwise marginally connected to it, whether or not the people involved had anything to do with the actual crime.

Woman Scorned: A woman who's been dumped, cheated on, or otherwise done wrong by her significant other (or, in some cases, merely thinks she's been).

Examples

Alexandre Dumas's The Count of Monte Cristo, probably the greatest revenge story of all time.

In the original version of Beauty and the Beast, the Prince's widowed mother goes off to fight a war and leaves a wicked fairy to help him rule. When the Prince comes of age, she tries to seduce him and turns him into a Beast when he refuses her advances.

In Moby-Dick, Captain Ahab makes it clear throughout the book that he'll pursue Moby Dick to, into, through, and out of Hell, and even then he still won't be satisfied until the whale suffers forever for its slight against him.

Crime and Punishment: One of the antagonists of the novel, Porfiry, works as a police officer and interrogator, which usually would qualify as a good-aligned job. As you further witness this officer's tactics in catching criminals, you see him commit to bribery, thievery, death-threats, and psychological torture to force an admission. Furthermore, he seems to actually enjoy it, toying with amateur criminals like a cat torturing a wounded mouse. The justification, of course, being that the victim of this was a murderer, and therefore deserves it.

George R. R. Martin's Fire & Blood: After the war, Lady Joanna Lannister has a beef to pick with the Greyjoys, who've taken up raiding the coast, including killing a few Lannisters. She decides the best course of action is go to the Iron Islands and kill every man, woman and child she can find. She just settles for burning a lot of things and abducting one Greyjoy, gelding him and turning him into her fool.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen receives a Dying Curse in Dune. After killing a combat slave in the arena, his opponent's final words are "One day one of us will get you." Given that this fighter is not just a slave, but one of the soldiers from the army of the Harkonnen's blood enemies, the Atreides, this may be prophetic.

In A Song of Ice and Fire, Arya Stark's conflation of justice and personal vengeance leads her to Villain-by-Proxy Fallacy. While many of people on her death list certainly deserve to be brought to justice, such as the Tickler for torture and Weese for abuse, others were merely acting on orders, such as the Hound, doing their jobs or are just guilty by association. Cersei Lannister is on her death list for being involved in the execution of Ned Stark, but Cersei wasn't complicit in that activity, and even spoke out against it. Same with Ilyn Payne, who was just doing his job as the royal executioner. The real mastermind of Ned's death, Littlefinger, is not on the list. Meryn Trant is on the list for killing Syrio Forel, but there isn't any evidence to confirm the crime. Polliver and Dunsen are on the list for flimsy reasons, like stealing. She has Chiswyck murdered for the crime of not being as funny as he thinks he is (granted, Chiswyck was joking about a gang rape, but that isn't the reason Arya cites as his crime). The conflation of justice and vengeance, and how that conflation leads to this trope, is one of the key themes of the entire story.

Queen Dido in The Aeneid, who prophesies that her and Aeneas's people will meet again in war (the Punic Wars — her future, Virgil's past). Particularly tragic in that it's made fairly obvious that he'd have stayed with her if he'd had the choice.

Sidney Sheldon's The Best Laid Plans: Leslie Stewart plots to ruin the career of Oliver Russell when he leaves her at the altar to marry a woman whose father promises to further his political career.

The Hunger Games: The Pay Evil Unto Evil trope is discussed all the way through Mockingjay, and reaches its culmination when President Coin suggests either executing all Capitol citizens or forcing their children into the Games.

Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hi, here are some tropes I found related to the themes you described. You can find more in the source linked above. Study how it is portrayed in different types of media, and in your favourite films/books, to gain inspiration for your own story. You can take the rough idea/plot you already have, and try to incorporate techniques and tropes used by other authors, but then deviate from borrowing those ideas when your story starts to flow naturally. All the best with your writing!

[c-art00nish]

Oh no Kai died!

So. I saw a post here on tumblr (I didn't save it :c) saying "what if kai died trying to provide for nya and she took his place in the series" and smth took over me and I drew this

More info below

So I took the premise of him dying and Nya taking his place but that's it, bc the og post said Nya would inherit his elemental power, but since Morro kept his being dead I'd imagine Kai could too.

So this changes a lot of stuff, in this au Kai "discovers" his elemtal powers early on, but they just manifest as being inmune to burns and fire which helps since this kid works at a forge.

One day he goes deep in the town to buy food, but there is an accident and a house is set on fire, he was just about to go home and ignore all the chaos when he hear someone still inside, against his better judgement he went in and helped knowing his resistance to fire. He saves the person trapped inside.. but instead of a 'thanks' the whole townspeople just go 'A witch!' since he didn't suffer any burns.. And you can imagine what happens next

Either way Kai does not arrive home, when Nya goes to town to ask where he is she is told he ran away by lady and that she should leave aswell (Quick tangent. The lady told Nya that to avoid explaining that they basically unalived her brother and so Nya doesn't get the same fate)

She moves away and years down the line she meets a nice old man saying he is looking for something special.

Okay so here goes the timeline from Nya's side all up until season 5:

• Pilot:

She works in a small shop doing repairs and is very agrressive towards Wu since instead of asking where are her parents he asked if she had any siblings, so yeah open wound. Anyway there is no kidnapping motivator here, the skeletons steal the map and destroy the only home she had, she goes with Wu in order to get revenge. He sees she is lost and in need of family so he trains her, everything goes about the same, Jay's line changes to inmediatly be "Do you like blue?", and she proceeds to ignore him since letting people in her life hasn't been an option in a long time (also here Wu assumed she must have the fire element). They get the weapons and Garmadon still tricks Nya with Kai's voice, when she arrives she is so mad she attempts to lift the sword to attack Garmadon, but she can't, seeing she has no use to him he sends some skeletons to attack, but apparently out of nowhere the sword lifts itself up and lands in Nya's hands (she was fighting the skeletons at that). From there Wu arrives, leaves, Garmadon is free all that stuff.

Nya wants to leave since she feels she failed since she is not the master of fire, but everyone just doesn't care and want her to still be part of the family. And so we go on to rise of the serpentine

• Rise of the Snakes:

Okay so here everything goes about the same, Samurai X is still Nya but it isn't a secret (she does this bc still feels like she can't be a ninja). Jay's true potencial happens bc he is like "I can't show you who I am becaussse you're ssso cool! I mean you are Sssamurai X and a Ninja!" which to she responds that she likes him as he is and even if she didn't he shouldn't change for others.

And the fangblades stuff is bc if Nya can't be tha master of fire, and samurai x isn't a ninja (she wants to but feels useless without an element) she might as well be the green one right?

She still saves Loyd over the fangblade, creating a dome of water from seemingly nowhere, unlocking her true potential as the master of water. And everything carries on the same

• Legacy of the Green Ninja & Rebooted:

Everything is pretty much the same.

Nya loses another brother

• Tournament of Elements:

All the ninja are split up like in the series with Nya doing vigilante stuff instead of fighting in an illegal fight club. Loyd attemps to reunite his family and everything goes about the same.

Skylor and Nya definetly flirted much to Jay's dissmay

Nya "betrays" Loyd just like Kai did with Nya in the series except Garmadon is left alone with the snake pet and Loyd is taken to the ritual. When Nya lifts the staff she does go a little power crazy, not for wanting to be the green ninja but bc she wants this power to protect her family.

Anyways season ends. RIP Garmadon

• Possesion:

All goes the same for the first 5 minutes. Then after fighting a possesed Loyd a ghost with fire in his hands arrives to the Bounty, asking- no, begging, for the Ninja to help him

Nya recognizes him and the world stops

Gonna do the Kai timeline in other post with Morro art :)

[geniemillies]

Yearning For Spring | Ch. 5 | Tamlin x Oc

◇— Chapter 5 - Daydreams

Ch. Warnings: the usual KoH warnings

A/n: A twinge of Hybern worldbuilding mayhaps?

✧ masterlist

<<Ch.1 <<Ch.4 ||◇|| Ch.6>>

Decades continue to pass. Then more still after I brought Velaria to Hybern.

She stayed with me though it wasn't her choice at first.. Despite all the reasons pointing for her to return home, she didn’t. She stood strong beside me, a pillar of unwavering support that kept me going when the world seemed ready to tear me apart. 

Words couldn't begin to explain how eternally grateful I am for her. Because if it wasn't for her staying I would've broke long ago.

With her insistence, I faltered and showed her everything. I realised early on that if she were to trust me I needed to be open with her and hide no secrets. So I showed her everything. I showed her the dying lands of Hybern and the territories that toiled away for the King's gain. Even going as far as taking her to the heart of my Father's Court, skillfully glamoured as my own servant, so she could see first hand the crown that controlled the island. And.. in time, I showed her the plans I'd been brewing underground. I took her to the Sidhe where centuries of my schemes accumulated, where I hid thousands of dissenters that I had supposedly captured and killed, all of them working hard to mold and shape a rebellion in my name.

A secret haven under the earth warded with magic I still don't understand to this day. Father doesn't seem to know about it's existence. The magic down there is.. erratic, seemingly ancient. While the rest of Hybern's lands are desolate and lifeless, the Sidhe is the opposite. Grass grows lushly underground and the water is pure, which is why the place is perfect for hiding the rebellion. I've long stopped questioning as to why the place is so strange and different. I've tried to search in history on the matter but I've been unsuccessful. Libraries are a rarity in Hybern and most books and tomes on history are hidden in the palace's forbidden libraries which none can enter. Not even me.

Despite the risk of trusting in magic I don't comprehend, the wards have held steadfast for centuries and many of the dark spells I've learned are weakened when used there if not entirely repelled, offering me a glimmer of hope that if my father ever discovers this sanctuary, his dark magic cannot hurt us so easily

To put it simply, it is a strange place. Nevertheless, the Sidhe is a safe haven, home to all the mercies I’ve spared, all the flaws in me that Father deeply abhorred. A second home to me besides the Lighthouse.

To say Velaria was stunned at every revelation I showed her was an understatement. As expected, she had always believed that Hybern was isolated by choice, convinced that the people of my land were pure evil, constantly scheming especially after we suffered losses in the War. It is.. a good thing that I could dispel such sinister perceptions of my people.

There was a kind of wonder in her eyes whenever I played with the children at the Lighthouse or when I showed her around the Sidhe. She told me I was.. a triumph. A flower amidst hellscape. And that I didn't deserve the life I was born into.

But she didn't pity me... I think. More often than not I see admiration in her eyes when she looks at me. 

Velaria showed me friendship like I've never experienced. I used to think I had many friends. But most of them are children who think of me as a maternal figure so Velaria deemed that they don't count, leaving me with.. less friends than I would've thought. Which is sad, sure, but Hybern isn't exactly the place to make long-lasting friends. Or any at all...

Velaria was someone I could confide in about problems greater than the occasional headache and sleeplessness I share with the children or the frustrations that come with planning military tactics with my lieutenants. She was someone I could trust to show the blight infesting my arms and the deeper burdens Father inflicts upon me.

Before her.. I never really had anyone to talk to about my troubles. My cousins, Brannagh and Dagdan, weren’t spared from Father’s ‘love’ either so one would assume they would understand what it feels like to be constantly tormented by the King. But they've grown to keep only to themselves in fear that we might read each other’s ill thoughts about him. I’d never read their thoughts lest they ask. But I understand their fears. I’ve become unmovable by Father’s side. I’ve become his most loyal pawn, his most blood-stained sword. Everyone believes so. I’ve worked hard to earn that reputation and I should be glad that I have it.

Still, I never expected it’d create such mistrust between me and my cousins that they too, would begin to fear me. That they’d think I’d ever sell their thoughts to the King in exchange for his praise. They couldn't know how often I let my gaze linger on them, searching for them in every corner of the room, desperate to ensure they were alright. Even when I was willing to take their punishments, to do anything to spare them from the wrath of the King when they did something that didn't please him, they still couldn't bring themselves to open up to me. 

I regret not attempting harder to alleviate their fears and suspicions. I should have divulged my plans and brought them into the fold of the rebellion.. But I’m ashamed to admit that I was also wary of them, that I was not spared the mistrust and fear that brewed between us daemati children. I kept my walls high and showed them only what they needed to see from me, in fear that they might find my secrets and sell me out.

By the time the rebellion was growing in number, they were already untrusting and I didn’t know how to approach them, to ask them to join me when I also couldn’t penetrate their minds. And I had no way of knowing that they wouldn't stray and betray me. I let the seeds of doubt fester too far that I deemed my only family a potential enemy. 

If I hadn't, maybe I could've protected them better. Now they're but mindless husks of their former selves, their souls beyond reach and their memories hazy and fleeting, like wisps of smoke that slip through my fingers every time I touch them. It only took one more torturous experiment to shatter them completely, for another failure on a task that Father was not happy with.

And I watched. Watched as the last spark of their souls left their bodies. What replaced it was dark magic I couldn't understand, merged into one sinister.. thing for Father to keep and shape into whatever twisted image of perfection he liked. Until they are just like him. Just as strong and cruel and… unfeeling. Obedient puppets.

Now they will not even speak to me unless necessary. They do not spare me a glance unless it's to prod into my memories. I know they're long gone at this point. Yet, my heart still aches for the days when Brannagh would reach out for my arm for support during her moments of weakness or when I would correct Dagdan's stance when we spar. Even when they push me away I cannot help but hope that there is a way to bring them back.. once this.. is all over.

And we'd all be free from him. Some day.

Velaria knows of it all. All my yearning, all my dreams and schemes. The weight of an entire country on my shoulders feels a little lighter when I share the burden with her. Velaria is the first friend I've ever made with whom I felt like I could speak freely without planning my words or worrying about keeping my mental shields up. Velaria is the first friend who made me feel like I could truly be myself without consequence, damn the masks and the glamoured hair, the titles and expectations that I long thought would be part of my existence forever.

Velaria feels like the tranquillity of a peaceful night's rest. And when she speaks about the city she's named after she's infectious with her dreams. We sit on the highest spot of the Lighthouse tower, overlooking the endless sea, our feet dangling over the edge while she tells me stories of Prythian. The more she does, the more I find myself yearning to see a glimpse of what a world like that looks like.

A world where the fog doesn't hide the light of the sun or the heaven's brilliant blue. A world where people don't live with golden shackles etched onto their wrists.. 

I long to see what living looked like. Even for just a moment..

|| Present ||

More decades passed still.

Then some more. But I never let go of the green handkerchief. It is with me now, tied around my wrist as the ashened curse continues to grow up my arm, like the roots of an ill-fated tree. The King planted it on the earth of my body and ever since.. it continued to fester. He calls upon me in his towers to this day, though not as frequently as he did when I was a child, he still does, and it still... hurts.

“Any side effects from this one?” Father asked, his voice cold and detached as I knelt on the cold stone floor, limp and tired, my vision blurred, pipes filled with bright liquid attached to my skin.

I shake my head, swallowing the lump in my throat as I gather my voice to speak. “It stings around the fingertips... I feel the power... crawling up my arm..” And it was. It was festering more and more and all he did was observe it like a child observing a toy work. "It burns.."

“Has your powers improved of late?” He asks as he paces around the room, a book hovering above his palm.

“I've been... using them on soldiers in training, prying out information. As you've instructed.”

“Any anomalies?”

“No..”

Father had amplified my daemati powers to an unprecedented, almost unrecognizable degree. While I could still read minds and feel the barriers of mental shields, he had altered- no, improved my powers of the mind into something different. My control over the mind can now be invoked through touch, hence the black that's tainting my arms. A perversion. Blasphemy. The Mother would churn at the sight of what I've been made into. 

Hours, days, and years I've spent on this tower while he worked to mold my powers to suit his twisted desires. I could now invade a person's emotions, thoughts, and memories through touch - without the need to break down their mental defenses.

This power isn't limited to just living things, I soon found out. When my fingers clung and clawed the stone-cold floor, I could hear the echoing screams of those who had endured torturous experiments before me. When I touched a piece of parchment, I could hear the faint whispers of the author who had written the words upon it. My senses were assaulted by a barrage of sounds and emotions, both past and present, with just a touch. To say that it drove me insane doesn't do justice to the reality. I hear everything, feel everything– so I hid the black that tainted my arms with gloves, only letting them disintegrate when I have need for my bare hands. For my own sanity.

A gift, he calls it. His gift. 

It's anything but. It’s a fucking curse.

He takes special pride in making me into what I am. He calls me a clairtangent, a.. one of a kind. His special tool. Yet, my enhanced abilities remained unstable, far from perfected. Which is why I often concealed my hands, why he continues to experiment on me, better me. I've long forgotten what my hands feel like without ancient spells forced into them. I look at them now and they're black, darker than the night sky, and infused with magic unknown to me. 

My own body is unknown to me most times. And it frightens me. More often than I’d want to admit. I’m scared of voices, of seeing things that don't belong to me. So much so that I can’t sleep because of it. They come back, the voices, my own and others, haunting me, never giving me a moment's peace. Which is why I have Manann brew me wakingdew elixir, to force my eyes open for a long time. A really.. long time.

Velaria tends to me and the wounds inflicted upon me during experimentation, away from the younger children's prying eyes. I do not wish for them to see me in such a pathetic state.. not when they look up to me.

She often tells me stories of her childhood, of her city, Velaris, the one she's named after. City of Dreams. Fitting, for someone who has many aspirations that fuel her very will to fight to see them fulfilled. She braids my hair and tells me all about the Night Court and how she wishes she could take me one day to see Starfall. I could only close my eyes and imagine what it'd look like and dream that one day... I might see it with her.

She braids my hair slowly, willing me to sleep with her stories but she already knows I do not sleep. I cannot. Not when nightmares await me on the other side of consciousness. So I sip my elixir quietly as she tells her stories, her voice proving to be just as soothing as any sleep one could take.

She tells me of Prythian, the neighboring island that I know so little of. She tells me of the Day Court, with its splendid cities and towering libraries. She tells me of the Dawn Court which she has not visited much. She said that I remind her of Dawn warriors, peregrines, with their big feathered wings, though colorful unlike mine. She tells me of the Winter Court, so bright in the morning that the light reflects the snow and blinds you. She tells me of Autumn Court, with their forests lush and orange, and in her words: “Smells like fresh afternoon rain.” She tells me of the Summer Court with its clear beaches and sandy shores. She tells me that she finds it funny that despite me living on an island, on a Lighthouse just above cliffed coasts, I do not know how to swim. And she threatens that if we ever get the chance she'd take me to Summer and throw me in the ocean to teach me how.

“Tell me about Spring..” I ask her and I feel her pause to think.

Velaria does not know that I'm mated to Tamlin. No one knows. It is the one thing I’ve kept from her. A secret that solely belongs to me.

She hums as she strokes my hair with a brush. “Spring is.. nice.” She said, “Full of.. flowers.. Lush green forests, pretty meadows. Lots of bugs though.” She chuckles. “I don't know much about the Court. But Tamlin is.. nice.” She looks down and I couldn't see her face on the mirror before me.

“He used to be friends with my brother. Though.. after everything that happened, I’d assume not any more of course.”

“Were you friends with him?”

“We spent time together when he was allowed to leave his Court to visit ours, sure. But it was Rhys who was close to Tamlin. Sometimes, he'd tell me about how he'd visit Spring without the High Lord knowing..”

“What is he like?”

Velaria thought for a while, perhaps confused. It’s the first time I'm asking her about a person and not a place.

“He's.. kind. Way kinder than his older brothers. Way kinder than his father. From what I've been told he's a great fighter. Rhys would always talk about wanting to spar with him. That is why Tamlin knew of the Illyrian camps. Rhys would take him once or twice.”

“Do you have anger towards him?” I ask. 

“I did. But now.. now I'm just conflicted..” She sighs. “You showed me what happened that night. While his father was cruel, he didn’t expect them to go so far as to actually.. kill my family. He protected me from his brothers. He begged you to take me away..”

“He did.”

“But my parents are dead either way.”

“Do you have anger towards him..?” I repeat the question. 

She looked at me through the mirror, a frown on her face. 

“I have no anger for anyone, maybe save for your father, Niamh.” She said, “Anger won’t change what happened, won't bring back the dead. And it wasn’t Tamlin’s hands that forced a blade to take my mother’s head and wings. On the contrary. It was Tamlin’s hands that trembled as he cradled my body and whispered his regrets, his apologies.”

Velaria sighs, a look of contemplation on her face while she continues to braid my hair. “And begged for you to take me to safety.”

“He killed your father.”

“And my brother killed his mother. They both suffered tragedies and let their anger and vengeance control them in those final moments before they ascended to their thrones, I have no doubt.”

“Which is a pity.” Vel looked down. “They were.. such good friends before. Rhys planned to reveal Velaris to Tamlin at one point, to show him the escape he deserved from his cruel home. Which meant he really trusted him. He must’ve felt so betrayed. I cannot imagine what went on that night you took me to Hybern, to avoid.. all that.”

She paused and tilted her head to fully look at me on the reflection. “You never really told me.. what would've happened if you stayed in Spring. If you had agreed to take on my Father's wrath. If you.. had finished the experiment they laid out for you.”

I paused for a moment to think, my hands unconsciously fidgeting. “I showed you the northern territories, didn't I?”

Velaria nods. “Yes. It's a wasteland. Nothing is left besides those who'd dare to live there.”

“Before my growing rebellion, that place used to be home to a secret league that planned to stand against the King. The villages were all in on it. Father found out and had them snuffed out.”

“Let me guess, he had you do it?”

“Yes. But I refused. Because I couldn't bring myself to wipe out an entire territory. I was still in my youth. Recklessly believing that I could defy him without being smart about it...”

My gaze falls to my hands free of their gloves. I still remember every second of that night.

“You had no choice..”

“I had no choice because he took control of my body and made me do it. When I gained back control, the territories were leveled into nothing. Just.. a huge chunk of land flattened because of what he made me unleash.”

“Niamh..” I felt her hands gripping my shoulders, their grasp firm yet comforting, like an anchor preventing me from being swept away into the currents of those memories.

“He told me that is what I should aspire to become. And that one day he will get rid of all the flaws in me that came in the way of that monster. For years he's been molding me so that I might summon that kind of power at will, without him forcing it out of me.”

“And for years, I've been suppressing it. Willing it to stay hidden. I never want to go through that again.” I never want to wake up like that again. My entire body was the same shade as the scarlet moon above me. I smelled death at every turn when he let go of my consciousness. And even when I cried and vomited on the floor of the earth, I still couldn't believe that my hands had done such atrocities.

I don't sleep just because of it. In fear that I'd open my eyes to that ever again.

“He agreed to send me to Spring in hopes that I'd be able to unleash that power. Lord Callan was curious to see it for himself and Father finally allowed himself to indulge him. Sending me like that... I don't know if I would've been successful in killing your Father. But I would've leveled Spring into nothing.”

My voice was reduced to whispers as I continued, “And I would have regretted it all my life...”

Velaria tenderly rubs my arms, attempting to soothe me. Her chin rests upon my shoulder, her gaze locked onto our reflections in the mirror, her eyes betraying a silent apology for ever bringing up the topic. I shake my head softly, offering a smile in response—letting her know silenty that none of my misfortunes were her fault..

“I cannot fault Tamlin for what happened. I know..” She mutters. “I know now how hard it is to have your life be in someone else’s control. To never be able to disobey their orders, to exist solely as a puppet, dancing to the whims of a controlling figure, even when that figure is your own father.”

She leaned back, gently resuming the braid she had momentarily stopped working on, her slender fingers deftly weaving my hair. “You two are similar in that regard.” She says, and I stop breathing for a second.

“Besides... the horrors of that night led me to meet you... So, it’s not that much of a loss, is it?”

“That is.. not a very good conclusion, Vel.”

“Meeting you is a very good conclusion. And knowing about your father's schemes to steal the Cauldron to break the wall and invade is very much.. a needed revelation to me. I told you my reasons before.”

“I know..”

“So don’t ever say that meeting you was a mistake or a waste of time. I’ll miss my parents dearly, Niamh. But I’ll forever thank the Mother for granting me a sister not a second after.”

My heart warmed at her words. “You hated me at first, I’ll remind you.”

Velaria grins. “No person could hate you. Not for long.”

“Amarantha would beg to differ.”

“I said person. People. Not the fucking she-devil herself.”

I laugh at that.

“I guess I have Tamlin to thank for handing me to you..” 

A warm smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Perhaps I ought to as well..”

There are many things I wish to tell him. So many. And yet, when I imagine him standing in front of me, words elude me. Not even a simple "hello" can find its way past my lips.

I looked to the side, remaining silent as I pondered. He must be struggling. Amarantha breathes in his neck, cornering him into submission. And yet, from what I hear, he does not falter, he does not submit to her. For that, I commend him. Admire him, even if it's from far away.

“You seem interested in him.” Velaria comments.

“I just wanted to hear your thoughts on him. He is the reason why we are where we are now..”

She hums. “He is. But you.. you look especially worried.”

I paused for a moment, finding the words to say. “You know I knew him. Way before all this. His father was allied to mine, they shared the same burning hatred for mortals. They'd attend Hybern balls and meetings. I'd see him by his father's side, tormented by his siblings, harassed by Amarantha way before she took over Prythian.”

I inhaled. “He was just a boy.”

“And that wicked female torments him still. I cannot stand it..” I mutter. “I can't even reach out to him, to comfort him and assure him that you're safe, that I've lived up to my promise. If he.. If he even remembers..” Does he even remember me?

“I'm sure he does..” Velaria reassures me, gently stroking the ends of my hair.

“And one day, when this is all over... I am sure to thank him and mention you. That by saving me, he has also given me a sister—one who is strong, kind, sweet.." She pulls back a strand of silver hair behind my ear. "–..and most beautiful.”

“When this is all over..” I close my eyes. “It is an optimistic thought.” A smile creeps on my face, a bittersweet one.

“It will be over, Niamh. And once it does.. You'll be free and I'll get to fulfill my promise and show you everything Prythian has to offer.”

“I will be counting the days, Vel..” I smiled as I felt her finish the braid, tying it with the green handkerchief Tamlin had given me.

Until then.. I will hold on to my daydreams, my small moments of joy.

     — —

A/n: They're honestly is so wholesome, can't wait to expand on them. Oh, the plans I have for Velaria 👁-👁.. Also, I will be doing more Hybern building, I'm really enjoying making up stuff for the place 👉👈

[fun-sized-owl]

The Devil and the Servant

Part XXXV – Adore Adore

Warning: adult themes, sexual themes, mentions of sexual abuse/rape.

    Raphael sat at the desk inside his room, an oil lamp beside him as he scrawled. After Haarlep's visit in the early hours of the morning, his thoughts could not stop racing. Now that the fiend was gone once more, he had the privacy to write what he could not speak, his words stuck in his throat, strangled and caged inside his very heart. He wanted it that way. He understood that whatever he was experiencing was some useless emotion that was entirely human . But it was suffocating! To the point where Haarlep should be the last thing on his mind when he had a mission of his own.     The only important thing right now was that he gained his freedom . The Orphic Hammer needed to be returned to him for that to happen, and he still required Alaric to find where his contract was so that it could be destroyed. Even better, he could work around the contract and prove to his father that he was still a devil even without his devil soul. Trickery was not just the art of a devil heart. It was wit, it was smarts, and Raphael had both of those things.     After his punishment with the rats, he had not seen Alaric since. The tiefling had seemed desperate to make sure that he was doing better, but time and likely schedule had not permitted another visit. They were sneaking around like schoolyard boys when he had studied as a growing devil.     Haarlep's visit had been pleasant, and comforting. The incubus had nestled themselves against him, and then between his legs while Raphael's thighs spread apart. His hands had held Haarlep there, curling within his hair as he suckled and lapped at his arousal until he became undone.     It had not stopped there. Raphael's hands had clung to the creature, not wanting him to leave. Haarlep had to, of course, to find the Orphic Hammer, or at least make sure that the mortals were actually looking for it. The words had never left his lips, however. There was no plea for Haarlep to stay any longer than necessary, even if he wanted to say it; just his hands, nails gripping and clawing at that red devil skin that had once been his. Hells, how he missed it.     Was it just the devil looking back at him that he missed? He would have said yes years ago, maybe even just a few months ago. But now?     He hated all of this so damn much.

    In my imprisonment, my dreams have been as vivid as a stage, yet my thoughts fleeting and leaving me to waken in sweat, more questions than I have answers. I feel suffocated, water down my throat and filling my lungs. Or perhaps it is dirt, where a seedling has planted itself and reaches to grow, yearning for water to let it flourish. Something I do not want as it roots itself inside my flesh, spreading vines within bloody veins.     Is this what it feels to be human? This dread and decay that surrounds me. I have never felt so feeble, so vulnerable and weak. I am a devil, whether or not there be a human heart inside me. I have worked century upon century to snuff out any mortality that remained. I have crawled my way through the frigid blizzards of Cania, beneath the white hot and oppressive gaze of Mephistopheles.     My father.     A coward. Craven. A useless Archdevil!

    Raphael scribbled an angry line through the ink.

    A coward. Craven. A useless Archdevil!     When he turned me mortal, was this what he wanted for my punishment? To suffer what it was to be but a mortal man? This dying thing around me. My flesh feels soft and old. My bones feel frail as they attempt to hold muscle that withers. I have not aged for over two thousand years! And here I am, feeling an ache in my bones which screams inside my skull.     Does he know what it is like to feel every cell in ones body wilting around ones self? It is madness! Enough to send any sane man leaping off the precipice. This pain and torture, it envelops me with what I can only imagine to be how a weeping mother clutches to their newborn, still and breathless in her desperate arms. A scream to return to them. I am but a child in this body. Even as a boy, I was more devil than I am now.     As dire as it is that I am dying (unless my fiend's ring is true), there is something else that I can no longer ignore. Something that I wish I could be rid of entirely, and that is what it is to be human:

- emotions - feelings - sensations - suffering

    This heaviness that burdens my very real heart.

    I am no devil that feels guilt. I am no devil that feels empathy or sympathy. Tools within my clever arsenal, to twist and manipulate, to understand what mortals want so that I can corrupt, so that they can owe a debt and join my House of Hope. Join me and in turn be within my eternal servitude. They will admire me, worship me. Love me.     As Hope was meant to.

(KEEP READING ON AO3)

[queenmagnusao3]

a kiss with death is better than none - CH 4

Link to Full Fic

The nature of death was indifference.

All living things must die and therefore there was no need to feel anything about it. But Death was still curious. Death still found life fascinating.  And every so often Death decided to make things interesting.

Rampant illness was boring. But it kept her busy. The humans were so vulnerable and succumbed so quickly. Witches loved interfering with these vulnerabilities. But Death didn’t mind. She admired their ability to prolong the inevitable. Death did not worry because they would all come to her eventually. It was the natural order of things. 

She could sense the potential of a new soul ready for her to claim. A magical soul, no less. There was something about this one that made her get an early start to the job.

Death approached the house.

It was a small cottage on the edge of a small village and she knew it was the home of witches. There were 3 souls inside. One that grew weaker by the moment. 

And so Death slipped inside, to the room where the dying soul lay.

She was surprised, something that so very rarely happened, to find a young girl of 11 prone on a bed. Her face was red and slick with sweat as she hovered in a delirious state between conscious and unconscious. 

The sickness did not surprise Death, nor did the girl’s age as death did not discriminate based on age. No, she was surprised because the room was empty. There was no mother or healer by the child’s bedside. No sign of medicine or tending on the bed table. No damp cloth on the girl’s brow. No. She was completely alone.

And so Death wandered outside the room, careful to keep herself shrouded from sight.

Two women sat in the kitchen, conversing quietly.

“I could try one of my healing potions. You know it worked on my Anna.”

A slightly older witch shook her head solemnly.

“I’ve tried already. Nothing seems to be working.”

A lie.

Death knew it.

The other woman sighed, taking the witch’s hand.

“I am sorry, Evanora. I can try again for you if you want. I know how hard this must be.”

The woman called Evanora smiled as she squeezed the other’s hand, tears welling in her eyes.

“Thank you, sister. But I fear there is nothing to be done. I have felt death calling for her.”

Lies.

Death did not understand. She had dealt with countless mothers who begged and pleaded to trade places with their children, mothers who threatened her, who were willing to destroy the world if it meant saving her child. She had dealt with mothers who welcomed death and even this was still always from a place of love. A plea to end suffering or bring the peace that only death could bring. 

But that was not what was happening here. There was no love in this woman’s words. Her intentions were not motherly. They were bitter, poisoned with some kind of hatred for some reason Death did not know or understand. 

She returned to the child, taking her place of vigil at the end of her bed.

And she waited.

She was the natural order of things. She had dealt with cruel parents before. Collected children who lived in nothing but pain and suffering and yet there was something about this young witch that made her pause. That made her question whether this was indeed the natural order of things.

“I’ll bring her some water before I leave.”

Death was already in the shadows when the witch came in. She rested the back of her hand on the child’s forehead and nodded sadly. She brought the cup of water to her lips, coaxing quietly.

“Agatha dear, I’ve got some water for you.”

The girl did not open her eyes but she did take a small sip of the water before coughing softly. The older witch placed the cup on the bed table and gave the girl a quick kiss on the forehead before leaving.

“If you need anything Evanora, please come to me.”

“I will, thank you. I just want to spend what time I have left with her.”

She felt something unfamilar. Something she had very little experience with.

Death was angry.

She did not know why she did it. She did not know what it was about this child that made her feel so different. But her disgust with her supposed mother made her act. She moved to bed table and picked up the cup of water. She lifted it to her lips and let it linger before lifting the girl’s head and bringing the cup up for her to drink from..

She took a couple gulps. Her eyes fluttered open, confused but there.

Death’s hood hid her face as she lifted a finger to where her mouth should be, signaling the girl to be quiet. The blues eyes closed again before she fully comprehended Death’s presence. 

Death left with only a name, curious to see what her gift might bring in the future. 

Agatha.

[coolmiaw]

Sharpuary 2024 #1 Candy

AU: Hogawarts Legacy full set up but in present time

Context: post seven year from "A strange school named Hogwarts" (Ao3). Alienor (MC) is in post graduate studies at Hogwarts (read the one shot to understand why she looks so young).

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

Since Alienor had disappeared in her room to finish a project on which she had been working for school, calm had returned to Fig's flat.

Well, Fig and Alienor's flat.

And Sharp's.

And it wouldn't be disturbed soon, for Alienor would join a party later that night.

After all, it was Halloween and a day like that deserved its own celebration.

Sharp settled on the couch near Fig, who didn't even acknowledge the ex-Auror, too immersed in his reading. A small smile played on Aesop's lips as he marveled at the older wizard's focus while wondering how he could disturb him to claim the attention he rightfully deserved.

His fingers were mere inches from Fig's face when a screech pierced the stillness of the early evening.

The two wizards leapt to their feet and were about to rush to Alienor's room when the young woman entered the living room. Although, she no longer looked like an eighteen-year-old woman but rather a young child, perhaps eight years old at most.

'I... I think I made a mistake in my potion,' she stammered sheepishly.

'I can see that,' Sharp replied , after a second of stunned silence as Fig was collapsing on the couch with laughter.

'It is not funny, Eleazar!' Alienor cried out in her delicate voice.

'I agree, it is not funny at all,' Sharp went on with a desapprobating glance at his partner who was trying to calm down. 'We can consider ourselves lucky that her mistake resulted in an Deageing Potion and not something more serious.' He paused, scrutinizing the girl for a few seconds before he declared: 'Let me guess. You switched the dried nettles of your Hair Dying potion with green leaves?'

'All I wanted was to have blue hairs for the party tonight,' Alienor pouted while crossing her arms.

And Aesop found it a bit difficult to take her seriously while she looked so adorable in her now oversized clothes. As for Fig, he had completely given up, but had wisely rounded the couch to stand in front of the window, attempting to conceal his amusement.

'I think I have the required ingredients to brew an antitode for your unfortunate Deageing potion,' Sharp said as Alienor raised a gaze full of hope towards him. 'But it won't be ready before tomorrow.'

She pouted again.

'But am I going to do? I can't go to the party like that,' she whined.

'No you can't,' Sharp sighed. 'And as horrible as this may sound, I am afraid you are stuck with us tonight then.'

'I don't mind staying with you,' Alienor corrected, afraid Sharp might have misinterpreted her words. 'I like staying with you. Even you, Eleazar,' she added with an irritated look towards the older wizard who was still resolutely looking at the window. 'But it's just... it's Halloween, you know?'

'I may have a solution,' Eleazar suddently declared. He turned to face Aesop and Alienor, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 'That is, if you can suffer my presence.'

'Eleazar I didn't mean...'

'I know what you meant,' Eleazar reassured her with a kind smile. 'I deserved it,' he added with a wink towards Alienor. 'You may not like my idea though,' he said while looking at Sharp.

'A typical friday in my life,' Aesop sighed with a small smile.

'You see, one of Halloween't tradition is for young children to dress up and go trick-or-treating. In the muggle world it isn't very interesting as you can't actually "trick" anyone. But I believe the shopkeepers of Diagon Alley always arrange something for the children to have fun.'

'But I am not a child,' she protested. She noticed the small quiver on Fig's lips. 'Don't!'

He raised in hands in defence, and Alienor crossed her arms again, pondering the idea. She knew about this tradition, but she never had the opportunity to join the other children. She hadn't even asked her mother then for she knew it was a world she didn't belong in. Her mother had died a few months before she received the visit of this strange wizard with his eccentric blue outfit. At Hogwarts, she had celebrated Halloween, but not like what Eleazar was offering.

"Dress up?' She questionned.

'Monsters, heroes, favorite characters, whatever you want,' Eleazar explained.

'And you'd come with me?' Alienor asked, her excitement tempered by a sudden shyness. 'Both of you?' She added while directing her gaze towards Sharp.

'Well it's safer if an adult comes along,' Aesop sighed. 'Therefore, I suppose I don't really have a choice.'

'There he is,' Eleazar chuckled fondly.

'I'll be right back!' Alienor exclaimed as she rushed towards her room.

As Eleazar and Sharp began to prepare for the outing, they noticed some of their belongings were missing. Fig was about to ask Sharp if he had, yet again, stolen his scarf, even though now really wasn't a good time, when Alienor appeared again.

She was wearing Sharp's coat, which was so large on her small frame that it would have slipped to the floor if it wasn't for the cauldron she was cradling in her arms. As for Fig's scarf, it was hanging on her shoulders, looking more like a cloak than anything else.

'Interesting attire,' Sharp commented, as he settled for his blazer for he definietely knew that he wouldn't get his hand on his coat anytime soon. 'What are you, a coat rack?'

'You're lucky I have to use both of my arms to carry this,' Alienor retorted with an offended look while nodding at her cauldron. 'Otherwise, I might just hex you!'

'Do you want me to help you with that?' Eleazar intervened while trying to reach out for the cauldron.

'Dream on!' Alienor protested. 'Candies will go inside, making me the Candy Master. Behave, and I might give you some.'

'All right I apologize,' Sharp said while grabbing the Floo Powder. He threw a pinch in the crackling fire before he indicated: 'Diagon Alley!'

'But seriously, what are you dressed up as?' He asked then, stepping aside to let Alienor pass first.

'Isn't it obvious?' She replied, rolling her eyes. She delicately stepped through the lukewarm fire, careful to not get any ash on Sharp's coat. She then raised her gaze on him, a fond smile playing on her lips: 'I am going as daddy.' Her eyes shifted towards Eleazar. 'Both of them.

[grassbreads]

I finished Pet Shop of Horrors: Tokyo, and I have some mixed feelings about it as a sequel.

On one hand, it was a lot of fun! I genuinely adore the choice to set it in Kabukicho and have Count D start befriending all the local queer people. I really enjoyed leaning a bit into D's cuter, goofier side, as well as his more benevolent and helpful side. Him running around giving magic pregnancy eggs to lesbian couples and having tea with drag queens is 10/10. Him clowning on Lau Wufei constantly is also 10/10. And I really don't mind that the series went in a more non-horror direction, as I really can see the appeal of that from a characterization perspective. Count D deciding to use his insight (and pets) to prod people in harrowing but helpful ways instead of just setting them up for Thematically Appropriate Death/Misery most of the time like he did in the pre-Leon-and-Chris days is a really interesting choice for him to make.

Also, some of the chapters were genuinely quite good as standalone stories! I loved Deathtrap, Decadence, and Dispatch, just to name a few. And the sphynx cat guy!! The sphynx cat guy is the pet of all time tbh.

All in all, I had a pretty good time reading Tokyo! If nothing else, I was quite consistently delighted by D, and most of the individual chapters' stories were compelling (though a few of the ~animals all along~ twists felt rather forced or contrived).

On the other hand, Tokyo did feel like it was missing big parts of the appeal of the original Pet Shop of Horrors. Some of what I loved about the original, murders or no, just wasn't in there.

To start with, I feel like Count D somehow managed to lose a big chunk of his depth from the original series. His family is barely mentioned at all! I can remember one brief reference to his father (and his father's death), and his grandfather comes up relatively rarely as well (mostly just to hammer home why Lau Wufei can't kick D out of his building). And that's wild! Because D's relationship to his family and his family's purpose was a big underlying part of his character in the original. Even in early chapters when we knew nothing about what the Ds were or how their Whole Thing worked, the manga made that familial element feel ominous and important. But now it's all out in the open, now the audience knows what D is and how his family works, and the thread just. gets dropped.

How does D feel about the death of his father? How does he feel about knowing that his grandfather was secretly observing him the whole time he was in L.A. (and possibly for a long time before then)? Is he still in contact with his grandfather while in Tokyo? How is their relationship now? How does he feel about knowing that his grandfather is raising his new brother/son/reborn dad/whatever the hell you want to call the new D? I get that this is a new series in a new magazine, so D's feelings about the original series were never going to be the centerpoint, but leaving out his connection to these events entirely just feels like SUCH a glaring omission. And if he's purposely avoiding thinking about these things, then show us that!

And as an expansion of that, what about the whole revenge mission D is supposed to be carrying out? In the original series, D dreams of extinct animals and wakes up crying. Masses of animals dying on the other side of the world in a wildfire gives him nightmares and makes him feel like he can hear their screams. He nearly collapses and gives everything up while he's on the run close to the end, but he has a vision that prevents him from doing so. His family's purpose isn't just something pushed on him by his grandfather—it's something he is constantly haunted by. The Ds are not allowed to forget the suffering that drives them.

So like, I am absolutely down for a D that chooses to embrace some small measure of hope and move away from a search for vengeance. I love that, actually. I think it's a great way to show the impact Leon and Chris have on him. But Tokyo gives us absolutely nothing in terms of D actually making and dealing with the fallout of that choice. We see him seeking to help out and protect endangered native species, and he's generally compelled by sole survivors and dying embers of every kind, but that's really all we get from this angle of him.

How does D deal with the pain and sadness and anger that runs in his veins? Does he struggle to justify his shift in methods? Both to his grandfather (if they're talking) and to himself? Does he struggle to reconcile his fondness for individual people and his hope for a redeemed humanity with the continuing degradation of the natural world throughout the 2000s? Does he view himself as a helper of humanity now? Human-neutral? Does he see himself as a guide? It's almost impossible to say, because PSoH: Tokyo just does not tell us.

The suffering of the whole natural world runs in D's blood, and D in the original absolutely does struggle to reconcile that fact with his growing care for humanity and humans. He's still conflicted even at the very end, loving Leon enough to let him onto the ship for a moment, but knowing despite the tears he sheds that he cannot let him stay. But Tokyo!D seems like that contradiction has just ceased to be a problem for him. If he's learned to set aside the fear and pain and rage that runs in his blood, it would be nice to see that development. If he feels he's somehow doing right by his mission as he helps the human and animal denizens of Kabukicho, it would be nice to see that justification.

Overall, in Tokyo, D just never seems to struggle with anything. He seems to have no real problems! He's rarely upset, especially late in the series. He has no difficulties bigger than "can't find a kappa when he wants to" or "passes out after Lau Wufei makes him do too many blood tests." I do really enjoy D's sillier side, and I'm happy to see a version of him that seems happier overall, but taking away all of his struggles just makes him feel like he's had all of his depth sucked out.

The original PSoH has whole chapters where D himself is the "victim" of the supernatural happening of the week (the orangutan in Donor, and to an extent the mermaid in Deep and reincarnation in Dynasty). In particular, though Donor has a tie-in plot for Leon, the chapter's story and themes ultimately all center around D and his painful relationship with his family. Dynasty centers on the Counts' disconnect from humanity and our D's emotional struggle to deal with that despite caring for people more than his ancestors did. Can you imagine getting a chapter like that in Tokyo? A whole chapter about inflicting D with complicated emotions, about making him feel yearning, regret, and grief? There's just nothing like that.

There's the very occasional moment in Tokyo that hints a bit at D's deeper, more serious feelings, but for the most part, he feels like he's been fully reduced to Funny Playful Magic Animal Guy. Even when he's letting darker things happen, handing out brood parasites or giving people nightmares to teach them lessons, his violence is handled as glibly as his dessert shopping is.

And beside my issues with what the change to Count D's writing does to him as a character, I do think Tokyo overall loses a lot of the appeal and atmosphere from the original series with its refusal to take him seriously. If there's one thing the original PSoH is good at, it's creating a sense of intrigue and mystique around the Count(s). We spend a lot of time in the pet shop, exploring its back hallways with customers and seeing D in his element there, and it always treads the line between enchanting and unsettling. The back of D's shop is a seemingly infinite labyrinth of hallways and curtains and ornate doors, and some of the "rooms" he has back there aren't even rooms at all. Customers find themselves in dim, impossible spaces lined with incense and heavy curtains, and they are somehow talked into buying "pets" that they never would have wanted in another circumstance. Even when D really does end up helping his customers rather than hurting them, people are off-kilter in the depths of the pet shop. They're unsettled, and yet they find themselves seduced. D himself is hypnotic and enticing in his voice and mannerisms, the avatar of the pet shop's seduction. It's really compelling on an aesthetic level.

The horror element expands on this, adding that knife-edge tension where we never know whether D is going to fix his customer's life or ruin it. Even as he gets more consistently helpful toward the end of the series, helping a customer may still mean breaking them down emotionally or enabling them to kill somebody else. But even if Tokyo wanted to commit to D getting less murderous, even if the creator no longer wanted the audience to worry D might kill half his customers, that doesn't mean we had to lose all the tension in his store. We get lots of "oh, this is strange" when people enter D's twisting back hallways in Tokyo, and Lau Wufei keeps grumbling to himself about how he has to check the blueprints because nothing makes sense, but almost nobody ever seems frightened by that strangeness.

And when people are unsettled by D, when we do get a brief moment where he's allowed to be enticing and ominous once again, it's always played off. He always returns to the happy silly animal guy again, almost like the thought he could still be truly dangerous is just a self-referential joke. D walks past a suicidal man on the street, senses his desire for death, and entices him back to the pet store, but it's so he can make him dress up as santa. D's ability to conjure up tangible afterimages of a long-extinct past—once used both as a way to maim or kill threats and as a way to cope with the immense grief he carries—is now used mostly as a way to replicate a video game for the side characters.

And speaking of those side characters, I feel like the pet shop itself almost gets sidelined along with D's more serious elements. How many of the chapters in Tokyo center on local wildlife (or local monsters) not actually tied to the store at all? How often is D just a friendly outsider that intervenes a bit to help events along? How often do the supernatural beings causing trouble simply visit D at his shop for a helping hand or a friendly chat, rather than originating from him? And of the stories that do hinge on him selling a pet or "pet" to someone, how many of those are centered on mundane animals?

It's not like D never causes trouble or sells supernatural creatures anymore in Tokyo, and it's not like the original didn't have cat and dog stories or stories where D just happened to stumble on the mystery of the week, but even the chapters centered on mundane animals in the original managed to be quite unsettling at times. Again, for myriad reasons, the pet shop just loses so much of its mystique in its Tokyo portrayal, and I think that's a real shame. The shop begins to feel like a fun curiosity, rather than the story's enigmatic beating heart.

It feels like there's a lot less imagery in Tokyo of D with the pets in their humanoid forms. Those panels were always so unsettling, between the almost-but-not-quite humanity of the designs and the uncomfortable sensuality of them. It was a reminder that the animals filling up the background shots in the shop were all quite sentient and potentially dangerous. It added to that air of heavy, seductive mystique I keep talking about. Leon hears D speaking to others through the shop's door, and he's unsettled when he enters and finds nobody but animals inside. Is Lau Wufei or anyone else in Tokyo ever properly unsettled by the strangeness of the animals in D's shop? For more than a few panels?

Where are Tetsu and Pon-chan? They're there on the sidelines sometimes, making faces and reacting to things, but they hardly ever get to do anything. They have no character development, no real bearing on the plots of any of the chapters. In fact, the only pet that ever gets to be important for more than one chapter is the Egyptian cat kid, and I'm pretty sure that kid is just a cameo from one of the creator's other manga. Why does he get to be more important than the original PSoH's menagerie? Where the hell is Honlon?? And it's not like we ever get a hint that D's setting up shop has coincided with an increase in deaths around Kabukicho, so what does the Totetsu eat?

There's a brief scene of humanoid Ten-chan lounging in D's bedroom with a few other pets and chatting about the problem of the month with D in one of the late Tokyo chapters, and I was honestly shocked when I got to it, because until that point it seemed like Tokyo had forgotten those types of scenes could even be done. Just a small handful more of those moments could have really helped create more interiority for D and the pets and make Tokyo feel a bit more like the original, but instead, moments focused solely on D and the pet store's denizens are few and far between.

The original Pet Shop of Horrors was an episodic, atmospheric series of horror stories and haunting moral tragedies, and those individual stories were tied together and given momentum by the over-arching mystery of Count D and the pet shop, as well as the growing emotional bond between D, Leon, and Chris. It's the story of Leon Orcot trying to understand the secrets of the dangerous, enigmatic Count D.

What is Tokyo the story of? It's not the story of Lau Wufei trying to understand the enigmatic Count D, or it does a bad job of being that if it's intended, because Wufei never actually come close to understanding him. D and Wufei become friends of a sort, but they don't seem to actually have an emotional bond. They're work friends! D cries when he leaves Leon behind, and Shuko, an echo of D, cries when it's time for Chris to move on. D sure as hell doesn't shed tears over Wufei. And Wufei, though he seems to acknowledge that D gets up to some weird mystical shit, never learns anything close to the truth of him.

Tokyo doesn't have the original PSoH's over-arching mystery (or any fleshed-out over-arching plot at all). It refuses to engage with D's more fraught, weighty character and story elements. It doesn't have an emotional core in the form of well-developed, caring relationships between the central characters. It doesn't have much focus on the key members of D's haunting menagerie, since the pet with the most screen time doesn't even live with him. It barely has any of the unsettling, enticing aesthetic elements that give the original so much of its ever-compelling mystique.

What does Tokyo give us instead of all that we're missing? Lau Wufei gets bits and pieces character development, and he has compelling aspects with his hunger for power, his hesitance around romance, and his fraught relationship with his dad, but Tokyo also seems afraid to commit too hard to treating him seriously as an emotional agent.

Wufei was never going to replace Leon, but I do think there's a potential version of Tokyo where he and D could have been allowed to bond in a deeper way. A real friendship with Wufei might have been a way to tease out the more serious sides of D. It could have been a way to flesh out Wufei, to put more emphasis on his character and growth, while also letting D talk about his feelings about Leon and his family with someone.

Wufei is probably the most dynamic, emotionally changed character in Tokyo, and I still can't say he changes that radically between the opening chapter and the end. Chapter 2 Leon would have reacted to the finale quite differently than chapter 37 Leon did. I'm honestly not sure how chapter 3 Wufei would have reacted to his finale with the Kirin. He might have taken the offer, but I don't feel like I have enough deep insight into his feelings on the matter to say. And if Wufei is bordering on static, then D, Chin, and the pets are also static to an almost unbearable degree.

Overall, Pet Shop of Horrors: Tokyo almost feels like a manga that's afraid of itself. It's afraid to dig too deeply into its characters, so everything stays happy and silly, and even the characters' inner conflicts and focus chapters are fairly surface-level. It's afraid of the blood and horror of the original series, afraid to let D be more than a little bit morally complex or get his hands dirty. All the violence has to come from outside sources and give him some vague deniability.

Some of the standalone stories in Tokyo are quite good, the happy new take on D is constantly delightful, and the addition of the culture of Kabukicho is genuinely quite a brilliant direction to take the story. But a ~fun~ character, a brilliant setting, and some good episodic elements do not an overall compelling story make. At least, not when you're writing a direct followup to something that managed to have an overarching emotional depth that worked in tandem with its episodic nature. Maybe I'd have fewer issues with the static characters and lack of overarching connection if the franchise hadn't already established its ability to do those things well, but as it stands, the absence leaves Tokyo feeling unsatisfying, incomplete, and empty.

I had fun reading Pet Shop of Horrors: Tokyo! I think it is, for the most part, a very enjoyable read, especially for a fan of Count D like me. However, despite my enjoying it deeply, I don't know I actually like it in the ways that matter. I don't know if it has much deeper worth as a whole story (setting aside the worth of the better standalone chapters). I don't know if I really approve of it as a followup to the original PSoH.

Tokyo is goofy and fun and intriguing, but I know there's so much more it could have been. There's so much more the characters could have been. D's lack of reuinion with Leon at the end is far, far from the only way in which it feels like it's lacking in any real resolution.

Fun or not, it's just hard to give a full two thumbs up to a story in which the beloved main character barely seems to change or increase in depth between the first and last pages, despite the fact that he has 43 chapters to do so. I know from the original that Akino has the ability to tell a story that's fun and also so much more on top of that, so it's frustrating that the sequel feels like a regression.

[chronicsymptomsyndrome]

Fought with my partner today about holiday plans, honestly caused by communication deficiency + bpd abandonment avoidance bullshit + meltdown.

I kept saying I don’t want to go with him to his family’s holiday meal unless he actively wants me to go (turns out just desperately tying to feel wanted, just bpd diagnostic criteria #1, something neither of us realized at the time) so he kept insisting he didn’t care one way or the other (with good intention, so that I wouldn’t feel obligated to do something overwhelming)

Anyway this man is so good to me, we were angry and yelling at each other but he didn’t wanna leave me home alone while I was that upset so he called and told his mom he wasn’t coming. And I know he wasn’t really dying to do the whole holiday family ordeal, but I still feel so awful.

He is so understanding and puts up with my horrific behavior and chronic/mental illness nonsense and as a thanks I ruin his day. His day off. We worked it out, things ended up good, but now he has to end his day early, mentally and emotionally exhausted, and then get up to work all day tomorrow so he can support both of us because my psychotic ass is too disabled to hold a job or any worthwhile income. And then he gets to come home to a messy house because I’m too dysfunctional to maintain our home properly. And I can’t believe he puts up with this and has for years and years. I’ve never felt so unconditionally loved.

I feel guilty for the obvious but then exponentially guilty that I don’t consistently act more grateful or even just affectionate. But whenever I try to express affection or gratitude or remorse, this panic alarm goes off in my brain that I’m about to give up allll my power and therefore ensure eternal suffering and oppression for myself. Which is just cptsd-brain lying to me, I know. But even knowing that logically, affection and gratitude still feel near impossible to express. I feel them sooooososooosos deeply……. I just wish I could let people know without vibrating violently and tensing up all my muscles involuntarily to the point of catatonia. Getting pretty close just writing this post tbh

Anyway I’ve been doing a lot of self-worth exercises and DBT work on my own and I know things will get better. I just want to be able to give the people I love all the thanks they deserve for all of the endless things they’ve done for me. I just want people to know how grateful I am and how sometimes it feels like my heart is overflowing so much I’m drowning in it. I just want to be able to express that to anyone that deserves to hear it.

[sexuallyfrustratedpineapples]

Nyo! Prussia Roleplay Starter

If you are interested in a roleplay, please feel free to like the post or DM me! Looking for: Italy, Southern Italy, Canada, 2p! Canada, Austria, Nyo! Hungary, England, America, Denmark, Spain, Scotland or France. Others may be considered and I am open for polyships. TW: Cancer, Death, Medical, Grieving

When Ludwig was diagnosed with Cancer, no one expected him to not make a full recovery. He was young, healthy, and in shape. The diagnosis was not an early one, but it should have been something he could come back from. It had not been too late, but second stage cancer. Even the doctors that they spoke with were sure that Ludwig would easily make a full recovery with very little issue and aggressive treatments. And yet…there Julchen sat at his freshly buried grave, left alone by the person that she cared for most.

She was there when he was diagnosed, when he started and at every treatment for chemo and radiation. She watched her brother as he changed from a strong, healthy young man to a thin, gaunt, shell of who he used to be. The change was gradual too. Coughing, nose bleeds, lack of energy at first, then one day he fully collapsed at work and was put on long term leave from his job. He was always tired, struggled to keep his food down, and he was not the person he once was all that time ago.

A little under three years into treatment and Ludwig had finally had enough of all the poking, prodding, and treatments. He had accepted that there was no saving him, that he was dying and there was nothing they could do but prolong his suffering further. He opted to stop the treatments much to Julchen’s dismay. The woman wanted her brother to continue fighting but was forced to accept that the gaunt individual was tired and he was ready to let go. He lasted another eight months, and she was there when he was put into hospice and finally, there when he took his last breath.

When his heart monitor was flatline, Julchen screamed and cried. She demanded for him to wake up, demanded for them to resuscitate her brother but he had signed a do not resuscitate order so they could not. Eventually the woman had to be pulled from her brother’s still warm body as he was removed so that his body could be properly readied for burial. When everyone left and the equipment was collected, the Prussian sat in her now empty home with a blank stare. She had spent the last three years caring for her brother, hand and foot. There were no friends, no social circle, no lines of support. Their parents died when he was a teen and she was twenty, leaving her to take care of him until he went off to college and started working. She had never truly known a life without the man in it.

Now that Julchen sat at his grave, the woman felt…empty. Her chest ached, but she could not feel the tears burning her cheeks. She could not feel the cold against her skin, the rain soaking her, nor anything else but the pain of his passing. The woman collapsed into the now muddied soil, quietly sobbing into the ground. There was no way Ludwig could be gone. He was so young and healthy. He was too good, why was it not her? It should have been her. He had far too much left to experience and do for him to be gone.

Who knew how long she had been there, laying on the grave site as she sobbed. She sobbed until there were no more tears, then she sobbed some more. She was absolutely soaked to the bone, cold, and mud. Julchen was unaware of anything going on behind her, the blind woman’s blank stare directed at her brother’s headstone, leaving her vulnerable and alone as no one else had come to his burial.

[spidercatenthusiast]

For the KC Ask Game: 3, 12, 26?

thanks so much for asking!!

3. Who is/are their best friend(s) among companions and why?

answered here:

12. What is their alignment, and why? How do they feel about it? Do they change alignment at one point?

Mordren starts off at CN, mostly on account of being a Gyronna worshiper, and not at CE from the start because she's not knowledgeable enough about Gyronna to know what that actually entails. She shifts to CE right around mid-Act 3, but in her eyes, she hasn't reached proper awful until early Act 5. She's wrong.

Tamarie's kind of the opposite, CG all the way through, she wouldn't put herself there until Act 4 and the Fleshmarkets fight, but it's always been in the core of her being that she won't stop trying for people.

Cernan starts off at LE, which is pretty deserved, they're more Torture-ee Kuthite than Torturer Kuthite, but they've also killed people who definitely did not have it coming for the sake of their cult. In Act 5 they shift to NE as they start getting detached from Aeon stuff and Zon-Kuthon stuff, getting generally more live and let live, but still willing to do a lot without any huge regrets.

26. Did they separate from any companions? Why? (Consider killing a companion too for this question)

ohhh Mordren loses so many people

- Ulbrig gets killed during his crisis conversation after the party leaves the Abyss, he spent almost all of his time in the party getting on Mordren's bad side

- Arueshalae leaves when Mordren doesn't go with Legend path

- Regill and the entire Hellknight outpost are killed when the court martial goes sour almost immediately

- Mordren takes Camellia tricking her very personally, but they work it out the way that friends do (polar ray)

- Ember occupies one of the rapidly diminishing soft spots in Mordren's heart, so after kinda-sorta traumatizing her a little bit by eating the Hand of the Inheritor's heart in front of her, she gets sent back to Mendev with a small fortune

- She lets Nenio become nothing at the end of her quest

- Sosiel and Seelah are dismissed after the standoff with Galfrey

so at the end of the game she's got Daeran, Greybor, Woljif, Wenduag, and Lann, whose life she just up and ruins by doing this:

so he's in the party but he's definitely not having fun.

Tamarie never really "has" Lann past the prologue, but he dies during Wendu's act 3 quest when she can't convince him to join and Wendu kills him, whiiiiich kinda fucks her up a little bit. A lot. She also ends up getting betrayed by Greybor who, unlike Wenduag, does not have "I am sensing victimhood here and would undergo any amount of personal suffering to see it alleviated" benefits, so he ends up dying there.

Cernan doesn't lose anybody, and they're not a very restrictive sort about who they can fight with, so they hold onto people like Camellia, fallen!Arue, killedliotrlol!Daeran, etc pretty easily, without really pissing off anyone (for every 7 Charisma moment there is an equal and opposite 20+ Wisdom moment). All of their companions come out alive but definitely not intact, so their ending slides were kind of a horror show, especially for Seelah and Ember.

[lovezbrownies]

OMG I LOVE THE LATEST POST WITH GEN (even if I say it to every post) but it’s interesting to finally get how Gen acts to her, herself actually playing a big part in darling dying. Like the punishment aspect and not in the mental and kicking the bucket darling scenario. Since, in her perspective she didn’t even realize she herself killed her darling and denying before realizing that she did have a part in it. As I feel as if her darling kicking the bucket themselves and leaving a note gave Gen a bit more room for her being more angry and being able to blame more people like Reina. But in the latest post she instantly knows she had a part in her darlings early demise. Even if it’s still the same either ways/different endings. But in this one she can’t blame anyone else but herself as she feels the instant grief and hatred for herself almost instantly

-🌪️

Hello!! I AM SOOO GLOD YOU LIKED THE NEW GEN POST :3!!!!

I honestly thought it was pretty bad for some reason but posted it anyway cuz I love love angst and I wanted to write something angsty and who better than local angst lord Gen Ludenhart! I feel like a majority of the angst I write is spent on Gen which I think is suitable seeing how in her original story she suffers so much in her life, as well as Siolis who is my favorite oc (I have and pick favorites and i am not ashamed)

I have noticed that most fics where Darling manages to escaped from Gen it never is something Gen caused, and she would, as you've pointed out, put the blame on everyone else except her! I thought it would be super interesting to write something like that happening to her! Since she's always hurts reader but never takes accountability for the pain she's caused having her darling die felt super suitable for her!!

I wanted to write something longer for her however I do have some other big works I'm working on + artfight refs :3 maybe someday I'll write it in more detail but for now this should suffice!

[bylightofdawn]

I'm apparently in a fic sharing mood today so have another snippet. These two fools go from this silliness to 100% angst level in like .02 seconds flat. Read at your own risk.

“Rufus, no. Stop.” He said hoarsely and gently pushed the blond away. Because he didn’t trust himself to keep his hands on the other man, he withdrew them reluctantly.

The blond offered him a look filled with confused frustration.

“We can’t do this.”

“I assure you, we most certainly can.” Rufus countered silkily.

“Fine, we shouldn’t do this.”

The frustration had melted into irritation, but Rufus at least leaned back into his wheelchair. “So help me Reeve, if you tell me you can’t fuck me because I am dying, I might get out of this chair and strangle you.”

His threat lacked any real conviction and by now, Reeve felt like he knew Rufus well enough to tell when he was being serious or not.

“I think it might be a little too early to be discussing introducing kink into the mix.”

“Shiva’s tits, I’ve changed my mind.” Rufus laughed and hid his face in one hand as his shoulders trembled with laughter. “You drive me absolutely insane, do you know that?”

“You’re pretty good at that yourself. But seriously? This isn’t the time or place, we’re in a hospital for Gaia’s sake.”

“That is easily rectified with a shift in locations. I have my own private cabin for a reason.”

“-and as much as you don’t want to admit it, you are sick. I don’t want to accidentally make things worse for you. Even ignoring the fact I might not be up for it either, considering my recent brush with death.” Reeve pointed out and ignored the narrow-eyed look that Rufus shot his way.

The older man grew more serious and he pinned him with a somber look.

“There are also the ethical concerns to think about, I might not work for you anymore but can you imagine what would happen if it got out that not only were you quietly funding the WRO but we were lovers as well?”

“Mighty arrogant of you to assume we would be lovers, Tuesti.” Rufus was beginning to feel defensive, and it was easier to lash out than to examine his own emotional vulnerabilities too closely.

Judging by the way Reeve’s expression cooled, his barb had landed true and stung.

“Is that what this is, then? One last pity fuck before you die? Am I just the most convenient warm body you can find?” He challenged brutally, his voice as cold as the ice fields of the Northern Crater.

For the briefest of moments, Rufus’s mask slipped and some of that vulnerability shown on his face. “Reeve…”

“A man with your means could surely afford to hire a professional if that was the case.”

“Just stop, you made your point. I was being unkind.”

“That wasn’t unkind, Rufus, that was cruel. And I’ve suffered enough cruelty to last me two lifetimes." Reeve cleared his throat and climbed to his feet. "This was a mistake, I think you should leave now."

"Reeve, don't do this, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry as well, Rufus. But I would still like you to leave."

[thebreakfastgenie]

Since you have more than a concept… ☔

☔ Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

I have so damn many. You know what. Fuck it. It's been this long, even if I'm still planning to write Jed Bartlet's funeral, which I am, I can explain it here.

It's exactly what it says on the tin. It's set in March 2011, although I was very tempted to move it to election day 2010 because I want Josh Lyman to suffer as much as possible. I chose 2011 because I wanted it to be early in the second Santos term; I wanted the death to feel a bit premature. Because I'm a bad person.

It follows the week of Jed Bartlet's death, from his death on Tuesday to his funeral on Sunday, and everyone being back at work on Monday. I did some research at one point to make this work with lying in state but I forget what I figured out.

The fic opens with Josh answered the phone in the middle of the night. He tells Donna "it's the First Lady," and she thinks it's for her because he clarifies that it's Abbey. Abbey tells him that Jed died, and that he's the first person she called after the girls. He died suddenly and unexpectedly; he wasn't sleeping, so he'd gone into his study, and Abbey went to check on him. He said "Abbey, something's wrong" and went into respiratory arrest. Abbey called for help and tried her medical skills, but he didn't make it. Abbey keeps repeating "we were supposed to have more time." After talking to Josh, she hangs up to call CJ, and Josh and Donna decide they can't go back to sleep. Josh prepares to tell Santos first thing in the morning.

The rest of Tuesday is various conversations informing everyone else. Wednesday through Friday get various people to New Hampshire. CJ is the first one, she goes right away and leaves the baby with Danny, who will join her in a couple days. Josh has a conversation with Zoey, because he hasn't seen her cry. Zoey tells him she cried for two day straight but then she saw her mom, sisters, and Charlie (who she's married to) crying and pulled it together.

All the canon couples, including Will and Kate, are still together, although they have a complicated semi-long-distance arrangement because he's in Congress in Oregon. Sam is married to his offscreen fiancée, who does not appear. She can't go to the funeral because of work, but it's implied their marriage may be in trouble.

Josh has a bit of a breakdown about his fears of dying young the night before the funeral, and the conversation turns to whether he and Donna want kids.

Just about every character ever shows up for the funeral, including both Hoynes and Russell. Mallory brings the napkin and has a nice moment with Abbey.

After the funeral, the main characters all have a wake at a local bar. They peel off for various reasons (Charlie wants to get back to the family, for example) until it's the original group left and when Donna goes to hail a cab, it's just Josh, Toby, CJ, and Sam. They all get very, very drunk.

Liz is considering finally divorcing Doug.

Toby goes to Andi's house after leaving New Hampshire, and ends up crashing on her couch. They take the kids to school together in the morning, and Andi asks Toby to get coffee. It hints at a future for them, unconventional but together, if Toby slows down and stops asking her to marry him.

Will and Kate get engaged while drunk, and Monday morning decide to think about it, but mutually agree to get serious about their relationship.

Donna orders breakfast for her and Josh, and shows him the birth control pill she didn't take.

I'm not sure I ever worked out CJ and Sam's final scenes. It ends with everyone getting on with their lives and certain things having progressed. The summary is "everyone comes together to bury a great man."

[kitawolf12]

My mom had a lumpectomy Monday and like currently she is fine recovery wise but she almost certainly has cancer, has been told some of it is inoperable, and has told me that she doesn't think she has the capacity to stick to a drug chemo/is nearly unwilling to do radiation chemo so she's probably not going to be fine in the long run or maybe short run.

I am Far Less Okay about all of this than I have been trying to be outwardly but I don't know how long I can keep Functioning??? I'm in a program where some of my team is leaving come April 19th but I'm continuing through the summer and I really want to be helping to reach our goals before then and also to hang out with them before theyre gone since Friendship is really a proximity game... but I want so badly to just lay in bed and cry all day that I don't know How to get myself to do things

And then there's the fact that my mom and brother are going out of the country for 9 days starting on the 20th. I was not invited or told about this until it was already scheduled and I don't know how to share that I'm hurt by not being invited without coming off super entitled since I don't really care about Japan, don't want to spend 9 days with my brother, don't have time to take off work, and don't have the money to contribute to such a trip. But with all this fucking cancer shit I can't NOT think, "Oh cool, my brother gets to go on the kind of trip my mom always talked about wanting to take with us and then she'll die before we get to check out Scotland and Ireland!"

And i just feel so gross. I want to drink. I want to scream. I want to throw things and break them. I want to light the world on fire. I want my mom to be okay and everyone who's ever been mean to her to suffer. She retired the same month the doctors told her she might have cancer, literally back in December. I know retirement is fake nowadays but that's just cruelty! Here's your retirement package: early death at no extra charge.

I've been watching Anne with an E since it's one of the shows that makes me Feel strongly and I got to where Mary was introduced and remembered immediately that she died. My brain told me I had to watch it all the way through which I guess was it begging for some kind of catharsis. Mary is a mother that dies slowly of sepsis while her daughter is still an infant. She and everyone who loves her has to watch her waste away knowing there's such limited time. "Maybe it's a gift to know so we can talk like this," Mary says to her husband, and I can see how it is but how can you really truly speak about it? I love her so much. I don't want to think about what it's going to be like when I can't hug her, when we can't be silly anymore, when... when all that's left of the family I want to be around is gone.

If she dies soon, before my grandparents do, I'm going to be so bitter towards them. I don't know if I'll be able to restrain myself. And then there would only be my brother who might argue for me being in the will and HE has no reason to. If she goes I'll probably be disowned for real this time. No one would be safe anymore.

Nothing is fair and I hate it and I'm scared and why does this have to happen while in BLEEDING goddamn it

oh and my mom really wanted grandchildren. Which I have no intention of giving her. so I'm a disappointment in at least one way, without even considering that I'm a queer, liberal, partnerless, underemployed, welfare-using, genderfucky disaster. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Sorry ma, guess you'll be dying unhappy with the state of your child's life unless there are some radical changes.

I don't like the world right now. I don't even like *me* right now.

The sun will be up in a few hours and I need to pretend to be functional tomorrow so I can schedule appointments for Thursday to help old people like I'm contracted to do until August. Motions. I can go through them. I've done it all my life, I can do one more day. Just one more day every day.