#little do they know they're fated to die soon

[magis-ghast]

In the pit, straight up pettin' it. And by it I mean, well let's just say, my bnnuys

[lassieposting]

Concept:

You are Bhaal, god of murder, and someone is praying to you.

And that's not necessarily unusual. Lots of people pray to you, usually for the untimely death of a rival, an ex-spouse, an overseer. The prayer itself is a small and broken thing, bloody and raw, whispered by a man whose vision is dulled by agony and the dark spectre of approaching death. The pathetic not-quite-survivor of some rather brutal torture, wishing murder upon his captor. You take a moment to enjoy the fear, the pain, the suffering - and then you tune him out. There are millions like him, and your favour is for those willing to do their killing themselves. Besides, that wretch will be nothing but a corpse all too soon.

Except...he doesn't die. You never feel that timid little spark of existence stutter and go out. Far beyond the breaking point of a mortal body, this one lingers on, clinging to being with fingers all but stripped back to bare bone.

It's intriguing enough to warrant a second look and - interesting. The prayer comes from a vampire, a pretty little corpse becoming an even prettier corpse under the skilled hand of a cruel master.

It is not in your nature to intervene. You favour the strong, not the weak. The master, not the slave. Your first instinct is to leave the wretched little thing to his fate.

But the thing is. Your child - your favourite child, shaped from your own flesh, coldest and most brutal of your progeny - has gone and got a boyfriend.

And you don't like him.

You don't like the effect he's having on your chosen, the way they're becoming distracted, attached, less devoted to their true purpose. And right now, your nature takes a back seat to your desire to get rid of that smug, arrogant little Baanite whelp, Enver Gortash. Your granddaughter's spiteful machinations have given you an opening, but you know they're bound to run into one another eventually, and it will all start over.

The vampire is beautiful. Well-trained. Accustomed to brutality. Already purged of sympathy and compassion, eaten up inside by hatred and bitterness and harm. And immortal; able to survive the worst of your son's inclinations. At this point, he'll do.

So you redirect a nautiloid. It's not that you're showing the creature any favour - it's just pragmatism, really. He is simply a tiny piece of a very large puzzle.

And then you watch.

You watch the vampire take the spectacular murder of a young bard in stride.

You watch him identify your memory-addled, sanity-challenged offspring as the most dangerous one in their sad little group of unwashed tragedies - the strongest protector, the solution to his fear of being discarded or returned to his master.

You watch him expertly lure your progeny into a pit trap of sex and lies and manipulation, dressed up with honeyed words and an exaggerated performance of desire.

Your child comes face to face with Enver Gortash and remembers nothing - feels nothing. They only have eyes for Astarion, and you are filled with satisfaction. The vampire is pathetic and fearful now, but already he plans to take over his master's ritual, and then he will be perfectly placed to feed your child's very worst impulses, to bring out the sharpest edge of the darkness inside.

You watch the vampire say, "I want us to be real."

You watch your child happily become a glorified comfort blanket, your masterwork living weapon reduced to little more than a prey animal, a do-gooder, a sacrifice.

Watch them vow, "I will be the person you see in me."

Watch them talk the blasted creature out of going through with the ritual at all.

Watch them start fighting their own nature for the pantomime love of someone else's broken toy.

Watch them turn on you.

And you decide, with the benefit of hindsight, that Enver Gortash was not that bad, actually.

[edenmemes]

baldur's gate 3 starters (part 1)

part 1 / ? .

❝ a less trusting person might think this all sounds very suspicious. ❞ ❝ you say all the right words, but i’m not sure you mean the right things. ❞ ❝ i know somewhere quiet. somewhere intimate. somewhere we can…indulge in each other. ❞ ❝ eugh, don’t be nice to me. it makes me want to be nice back. ❞ ❝ we needn’t be enemies. there’s plenty of those to go around already. ❞ ❝ there’s a steeliness to you, an unwavering tenacity in the face of, to be frank, quite dire odds. ❞ ❝ even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will. ❞ ❝ i appreciate anyone that opens a conversation with threats of bodily harm. ❞ ❝ oh, you know me - ever the optimist. i’m trying to focus on the positives. ❞ ❝ i’m not easily impressed by people, but you’re stronger than i gave you credit for. ❞ ❝ there’s an air about you. something alien. ❞ ❝ loosen the grip on your pride for one blasted moment, won’t you? ❞ ❝ it’s been a long time since someone stuck their neck out for me like that. ❞ ❝ there’s something odd about this village. people skulk around like they’ve something to hide. ❞ ❝ you know, if you want to spend time with me, you only have to say so. ❞ ❝ i want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. what you see. ❞ ❝ what’s better than a devil you don’t know? a devil you do. ❞ ❝ you must know that you’re…that you’re very special to me. ❞ ❝ the gods are nothing if not vindictive in their vengeance. ❞ ❝ stay with me a while, will you? day will come all too soon. ❞ ❝ here’s my little treat with their cheeks all flushed. ❞ ❝ i am terrified. i will not claim otherwise. ❞ ❝ my apologies. i’m not quite myself yet. i had the strangest dream last night. ❞ ❝ we didn’t die today. tomorrow, perhaps. but not today. ❞ ❝ leader’s need to make tough decisions. we do what we must. ❞ ❝ i think that unknowable powers come with unknowable consequences. ❞ ❝ i’ve had a lifetime’s fill of watching little men puff themselves up with grand titles. ❞ ❝ in these times, all we can trust are the blades in our hands. ❞ ❝ it’s not easy to turn away from one you once loved. ❞ ❝ much has been promised to you, hasn’t it? but what has been taken from you? ❞ ❝ damn it all. i can do nothing right - not a damn thing. ❞ ❝ every instinct i have tells me that nothing’s changed. that i’m still just a means to an end. ❞ ❝ do not speak of a story you only know the half of. ❞ ❝ i dreamt every night that you’d come back to me. that somehow it was all a nightmare dawn would undo. ❞ ❝ when the time comes to strike, you must take it. for there may be only one chance. ❞ ❝ your eyes. there is pain, endless and deep. but also devotion - blazing like the sun. ❞ ❝ you’re adorable even when you’re teasing me. ❞ ❝ i don’t need your help, and i don’t need your pity. ❞ ❝ i’m more than what i was. and i’m not afraid of anything any more. ❞ ❝ i said exactly what i meant: i love you. you should never, never doubt that. ❞ ❝ this is all like some sort of terrible dream. but it’s real, isn’t it? ❞ ❝ there is no redemption. can’t you see? it is too late. ❞ ❝ i don’t know that it was brave. i just know that it was right. ❞ ❝ you took those bastards down like it was nothing. it…was amazing. ❞ ❝ they underestimated me. so they paid the price. ❞ ❝ we fight, we die, and we just hope that when our time comes, there is someone else to take our place. ❞ ❝ unfortunately for me, you’re my friend. rescuing you from mortal peril is my right. ❞ ❝ what did you think i was going to say? 'oh, come here, i'll kiss you better'? ❞ ❝ flowers are so overrated. they're bright, gaudy, and almost never make good poisons. ❞ ❝ i’ve been lied to, my whole life. and i was gullible enough to just believe it. ❞ ❝ you know, i never pictured myself as a hero. never thought i'd be the one they toast for saving so many lives. and now that i'm here…i hate it. ❞ ❝ you know, i feel a connection between us. like we're two souls walking the same path. ❞ ❝ the forgiving sort, are you? you should be careful. plenty would take advantage of that. ❞

❝ it’s as if god made you just to ruin me. ❞ ❝ perish the thought. every word i said was nothing less than true. ❞ ❝ you have a manner of irresistible desperation about you. i like it. ❞ ❝ i got my eye on you. you got the look of a troublemaker. ❞ ❝ i’m starting to think you’re my guardian angel. ❞ ❝ it seems you know me better than i know myself. ❞ ❝ you…you have no idea what you’ve done. ❞ ❝ they say madness and genius are separated by but a hair’s breadth. perhaps the same is true of madness and stupidity. ❞ ❝ oh, it’s you. don’t you get tired of telling people how to live their lives? ❞ ❝ good morning! thank you for not killing me the other night. ❞ ❝ when the time comes to strike, you must take it. for there may be only one chance. ❞ ❝ it is good to savour the moment of victory - but pace bg3 syourself. our fight is just beginning. ❞ ❝ i was too hasty to judge you. i thought you were witless, gutless, unimpressivably bland… ❞ ❝ yours is the first happy face i’ve seen in a good while. ❞ ❝ when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair – that’s when you’ll come knocking on my door. ❞ ❝ thank you, my friend. maybe we’ll meet again, in another life. ❞ ❝ you’ll regret sticking your nose in my business. ❞

[kingkatsuki]

Sealed With A Kiss | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Didn’t think I’d write anything for Bakugou’s birthday and then a random idea popped into my head and I wrote it all in one sitting. It’s been months since I’ve started and finished a fic, so please be kind! And Happy Birthday, Bakugou!💕

Summary: Not everyone wants the quirk that they're given. Ever since you were a child, you were cursed with a quirk where you’re able to see how someone will die when you kiss them. Unsure on whether your quirk is telling the future, or sealing their fate with a kiss of death, its safer for you to completely give up on finding love. Coming to terms over the years that you’ll have to watch all your friends get married and settle down, while you spend the rest of your life alone. That is, until you run into Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings: 18+, minimal plot, mostly smut, no beta, praise, dirty talk, fingering, multiple orgasms, public sex, protected sex, not as angsty as I thought it’d be!

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 6.4k.

What would you do if you could tell someone the exact time and way that they’re going to die? Would you share that information with them, hoping that they can get their affairs in order and live those final moments to the fullest before kicking the bucket? Or would you keep quiet about it, holding onto the information as though it's a sordid little secret that needs to be buried and taken to your own grave?

Not that it matters anyway, because even if you held that information no one would believe you anyway, would they? Telling someone that they’re going to die in a car accident when they don’t even drive, or that they die during a snowstorm in July. It’s like people only ever believe what they want to hear, and it’s the same reason why even your best friend doesn’t know about your quirk. Imagine if you’d proved it, writing down your prediction and then waiting for it to happen. Counting down the days like you’re waiting for an exciting event, not waiting for someone to die. And then what? Someone dies and people want you to do it again, to prove that it wasn’t just a fluke. And then what? You’re kissing every single person that comes along just to tell them that they’re not going to make it to their next birthday?

Quirks should be a blessing, but yours was most definitely a curse.

“You know you really should start trying to settle down, you’re not getting any younger.” You could practically feel the disdain in their tone as you tried to avoid the question by taking a sip of your drink.

“You act like she’s going to die soon,” Your best friend Tatami laughed, shaking her head, “She’s got plenty of time.”

Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. You should scoff at the saying, but in this instance, it was very much true. The entire Hen party was made more awkward by the fact that you didn’t like any of your best friends friends’. All socialites that would give up your deepest, darkest secrets to further themselves and get their names plastered all over the latest tabloids. You were lucky enough to have known her since childhood, but it didn’t make it any easier.

Every wedding you’d attended in the last few years was even more elaborate and outrageous than the last like each bride competed to show that they had the most magnificent life. And every time you were stuck in an uncomfortable bridesmaid dress, trying to avoid the same string of questioning that you knew was coming.

“Come on, Tatami.” One of the girls rolled her eyes, taking a large sip of champagne, “Why don’t you try to set her up with one of your old school friends? At least then she’d be with a man with ambition.”

You felt irritated by them talking about you as though you weren’t even in the room, never mind sitting on the opposite ends of a table. They made it seem as though you were incapable of finding a partner like no one would ever want you.

“Or you could try one of those dating websites, I almost married a rich tycoon from Russia on there before I settled down with my husband. It’s funny how things work out.”

Of course, no one even bothers to ask me whether I want a boyfriend or not– never mind a husband. You rolled your eyes at the idea of flying out to Russia to marry a rich oil tycoon.

“I’m happily single at the moment,” You force a smile, your hand tightening against your glass, “

“They are right though, darling.” Tatami gave you a soft smile, “You have been single for quite some time. I’m not even certain I remember the last time you even mentioned going on a date with anyone?”

That’s because you hadn’t. Not since you lost your boyfriend all those years ago. Why would you try to look for someone again knowing what you know now?

Growing up you’d eagerly awaited receiving your quirk, but the longer it took to manifest the more you’d come to terms that you were one of the quirkless. It wasn’t until you shared your first kiss at sixteen that you realised that maybe things weren’t quite as they seemed. Everyone anticipates their first kiss, hoping it would be one of those special, perfect moments that you’d remember for the rest of your life. But instead, the moment you’d shared yours, you’d been struck with a horrifying premonition.

It felt like a dream at first, a moment where you’d pinch yourself and realise that everything had been concocted in your mind. The vision of your first love walking into traffic on a cold, snowy evening. The cars were unable to stop against the icy terrain as they drove straight towards him, the lights bouncing off the road to make it difficult to see pedestrians as he was knocked to his back. You’d even told him about it after it happened, laughing about how vivid your imagination was– but not even three months later and it's like your nightmare came true.

You’d told yourself it was a coincidence, that it could've happened to anyone and it was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Trying to heal your heart as you took time to recover from losing your first love until you met your next boyfriend. You were trying to allow yourself to be happy again, to forget the bad memories that haunted your past. Until it happened again– your first kiss with him gave you a vision. This time a villain attack endangered the city, your boyfriend was caught in the crossfire as a fire quirk ripped through his body and burnt him from the inside out.

It should’ve frightened you, much like the first time. But instead, you just felt numb. It was then you realised that you weren’t in fact quirkless, but instead of gaining a talent that was cool, flashy or useful to society– you inherited a curse.

Of course, there was no way you could explain your quirk to anyone, finding someone that believed you would be hard enough. But telling someone that you know when they’re going to die purely from kissing them? It sounded insane. Not to mention what it could do if the information fell into the wrong hands. Using the information for those dark, depraved benefits.

And to this day you weren’t even sure whether kissing someone showed the way they were going to die, or whether kissing them sealed their fate. Like you were the grim reaper handing out the macabre kiss of death.

Why would anyone want to be with you?

So it was easier this way, guarding your heart so you couldn’t feel the pain of losing someone you love again. A small price to pay to ensure that you didn’t harm anyone else, and the disappointed looks from your friends that you were still very much single were a small price to pay.

But you did feel alone.

Watching all your friends get married, settle down and have kids was harder when you knew you could never have those things. Maybe that's why it hurt even more. We always desire what we can’t have, after all.

“Let me set you up on one date and see how it goes,” Tatami’s annoying friend dipped her glass towards you from across the table, the champagne sloshing inside it, “I have this friend, not much of a looker, but he’s a quirk defence lawyer. It pays good money, and he’s looking to settle down–”

“It’s alright, I’m really not looking–” You felt awkward as each set of eyes around the table scrutinised you.

“Nonsense, he’d be perfect for you,” She continued, and you almost groaned as she pulled out her phone, “Let me text him now, I bet he could get you lunch in that new Sushi restaurant in the city.”

“Sorry, I just need the bathroom-” You almost shoved Tatami out of the booth as she stood up to let you out, her drink splashing as you tried to give her a reassuring smile before disappearing into the throng of people inside the busy nightclub. You weren’t even sure if you’d be able to find it back to your table at this point, but all you knew is you needed to get out.

The heat inside the club was suffocating, burning through you as you tried to find an exit. Weaving through the sea of people as you tried to remind yourself to breathe. Heaving a sigh as you noticed the sign to a smoking area as you followed the few people heading in the same direction. Stepping into the cool evening air is a welcome relief, the chill pricks against your skin as the heat slowly simmers down. Leaning against the rough brick wall as the back of your head knocks against it gently, closing your eyes to try and alleviate the irritation bubbling up inside you.

“Oi, you okay?” Your eyes opened into a glare to see the source of the voice, your nose scrunched in irritation at the blunt introduction.

A blond man stood a few feet away from you, cell phone in hand. The bright screen illuminated his face and cast a soft glow against his skin. You felt your heart betray you as it sped up at the sight of him, suddenly feeling self-conscious beneath his piercing ruby gaze.

“M’fine.” You mumbled, not about to dump all your issues on a random stranger.

“You don’t look fine,” He shrugged, glancing back down at his phone as he typed against the screen.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You sneered, your defences up.

“You just look pissed,” He smirked, and it only irritated you more.

Who did this fucking asshole think he was?

“Well I’ve got a random stranger bothering me, so perhaps I am.”

The answer has the opposite effect you were expecting as the blond beside you gives you a wide grin, shaking his head.

“Gotta be better than the desperate pricks inside there?” He tilts his head towards the club and you’ve gotta admit he’s right. You’ve been standing beside him for a minute and he hasn’t tried to buy you a drink or grab your ass.

“Guess you’re right.” You exhale softly.

“Whatever it is can’t be that bad anyway,” He shrugs, “You’re too pretty to be frownin’.”

You hate the way your heart throbs when he calls you pretty, it's pathetic really.

“You come here alone?”

Does he really think you’re that much of a loser to come to a club by yourself?

‘No, my friends are still inside.”

“So why are you out here alone?” He raises a questioning brow.

“Why are you here?” You crossed your arms against your chest defensively, turning the question back on him like he wasn’t doing the exact same thing you were.

“Got a big promotion today,” He shrugs it off like it’s nothing. Probably just another step on the never-ending corporate ladder to him, “My friends got me out to celebrate.”

“Is that why you’re standing outside on your own?” You shoot back, unable to miss the way his nostrils flare in irritation.

“Could say the same to you, sweetheart.” He scoffs, “Who’re you here with?”

“My best friend,” You smile softly, “She’s getting married.”

“Not very rowdy for a hen party.”

“Oh yeah?” You watch the way his tongue darts out between his lips to wet them, “You're not exactly the life of the party yourself, are you?”

“Just wanna go home,” He rolled his eyes, “My friends turn into assholes when they’re drunk.”

“Mine can be assholes at any time.” You were already expecting texts in the morning trying to invite you on a blind date you didn’t even want to go on.

“Dya want me to call you a cab?” The guy held up his phone, “I can get you a separate one if you don’t wanna share. It ain’t safe to be out here alone.”

“Very considerate of you,” You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop your heart from doing a little flip, “I can take care of myself.”

“Sure looks like it,” He scoffed, “That why you’re gonna hide out here for the rest of the night?”

“Shut up,” You almost pouted, “I’ll go back in.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He smirked.

“What’s your name?” You asked as he slipped his phone back into his black jeans pocket.

“Bakugou.” He answered after pausing for a second, “What's yours?”

You mumble your name and can’t stop your cheeks from scalding when he responds with a soft “Pretty.”

Standing in a comfortable silence between the handsome stranger you watched groups of people slowly leaving the club, some moving on to their next destination for the night and others trying to stop their friends from throwing up before they climbed into their designated cabs.

“Gonna take fuckin’ ages to catch a cab now, I hate this part of the city.” Bakugou groans, running his palm down the length of his face.

“You could go back in and party,” You shrugged, “I’m sure your friends are missing you.”

“Yeah? After you, sweetheart—” Bakugou made a mock chivalrous movement with his arm to invite you to go back inside first which you rejected. Moving back to stare into the sea of people with a small smile on your face, “Didn’t think so.”

You stood in a comfortable silence beside him for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes. One of the first times in a long time that you felt yourself as you both listened to the rowdy cheers in the background.

“Do you ever just want to say fuck it and disappear?” You surprised yourself by speaking your thoughts out loud.

“Go somewhere where no one knows who the fuck you are or what the fuck you’re doin’?” Bakugou responded simply.

“Yeah.”

“All the time.” He murmurs.

“It just hurts when it seems like everyone else has their perfect little lives while you’re just waiting on the sidelines,” You sigh. Maybe it was easier offloading everything onto a random stranger, it wasn’t as though you had anyone else you could talk to, “It’s just lonely.”

“You don’t have to be lonely.” He replied as though it was the most simple answer.”

“It’s not that easy,” You shake your head.

“Who said it ain’t that easy?” Bakugou turned to face you, his frame towering over you as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Cause I’m always lonely.” You felt hot, pearly tears beginning to clump in your lash line as you thought about the nights you spent at home alone while all your friends were with their partners. The life that you’d always dreamed about, but never have. For once you just wanted someone to be there for you, with you, “It's just how it is.”

“You don’t have to be though, sweetheart.” He whispers.

“Yeah?” You murmurs, “Do you feel alone too?”

“Fuck,” He groans, leaning his forehead against yours as he stands with you for a moment, “C’mere.”

Bakugou took your hand in his as he walked you through the crowd of people outside the rowdy venue and down a dark dingy alley that was illuminated in fierce neon lights from the various clubs dotted along the high street. You followed behind him obediently as your heart danced against your ribcage, astounded by your daring behaviour. He could be a murderer or a psychopath for all you knew– just another stranger out looking for his next victim. But for some reason (maybe it was the liquid courage coursing through your veins) you felt safe with him.

He moves his hands to your hips as he pushed you back against the cool brick wall, slotting himself between your parted thighs as he looks down at you with crimson eyes. The scent of liquor was sharp on his breath as his lips hovered close to you, warmth fanning your face as he leaned to kiss you.

“No kissing,” You gasped as you tilted your head just in time to avoid his lips as he pressed a wet, scorching kiss against your jawline.

If he had an issue with it, he didn’t voice it. The only sound was a rough grunt rumbling from the back of his throat as his lips continued to pepper sloppy kisses along your neck. Your fingers swiftly carded through his messy hair, nails grazing his scalp as you tried to pull him closer. As though everything right now wasn’t enough, you needed more.

“Please,” You whine as you felt his teeth graze your pulse point, hips bucking as strong palms reached out to steady you. Keeping you still as he bit down on the supple skin hard, the sudden pain had you crying out for him as the ache blurred your vision. Or maybe it was the alcohol running through your system— warm lips suckling the fresh bite mark as you clench your thighs together in a feeble attempt to give your neglected clit some much-needed friction.

“Please, what?” He rasps against your neck, his tongue salving against the mark he’d left against your skin moments earlier.

This is the part where you should’ve stopped him. Making up an excuse about Tatami wondering where you are, or needing to get home and disappearing into the night. But you didn’t—

“Touch me,”

“You always beg random strange men to touch you, sweetheart?” He smirked, his hand reaching round to grab a handful of your ass, “Or am I just special?”

If only he knew how unlike you this really was, that no one had touched you so intimately in years. A thought that would’ve surely ruined the mood if Bakugou’s hand hadn’t slipped beneath your dress to cup your aching sex, the sensation had you gasping in surprise as the blonde smirked down at you.

“I’m just special, hah?” He answered his own question with a toothy grin, “Is that why your panties are dripping for me?”

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this insatiable. Evenings spent at home with your toys felt nothing like the way his warm hands felt against your skin, uncaring that you were in a dirty alleyway as you found yourself grinding into his touch.

“Fuck,” You murmur, your head knocking against the cold brick as Bakugou presses the heel of his palm against your clit through the sheer fabric. A heat blazes through his touch and scorches you as you writhe against him, desperate to create a delicious friction as he smirks down at how salacious you look at this moment.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, bet I’d slide right in.” He grunts, surprising himself at his blunt words. Blaming his audaciousness on the alcohol Sero and Denki had plied him with not long ago, the liquor flowing through his veins.

“Please,” It’s quite pathetic really, just how easily this man has turned you into this. You’d managed to go years without the touch of a man, and now you’d felt it for a moment you were unsure how you’d ever lived without it.

“Oh, fuck.” He chokes back a groan as he pulls your panties to the side, the skirt of your dress now shamelessly bunched around your waist as he notes the glossy strings of your essence that cling to the flimsy fabric of your panties, “This all for me?”

His fingers drag through your slick shamelessly, testing it on his fingers as he feels the heat radiating from your core. He spends little time circling your puffy clit before continuing lower, dipping one thick digit inside your tight hole. You wish at this moment that you’d worn slightly prettier panties than the plain black ones you wore right now, but if Bakugou had any issues with them he certainly didn’t seem to mind as he pumped his finger in and out of your core.

“Shit, you’re so sensitive.” He groans at the way your body responds to him, thrashing against him as he places more pressure on your clit.

“Please, Bakugou.” Your thighs quiver as he continues pumping his finger inside you, feeling the way your walls hungrily try to suck him in deeper, to take all he's got to give and more.

“Wish we weren’t in a dirty fuckin’ alley right now, princess. I’d have you sit on my face.” He groans, feeling the way your cunt clenches around him at his lewd words. You’d never wished something so bad in your life, tempted to tell him you didn’t mind if there was an audience if it meant having his lips wrapped around your clit.

“I don’t normally do this shit,” He groans, nuzzling your neck.

“Fuck strangers in alleys?” You tease as he gives you a playful smirk against your skin.

“Somethin’ like that.”

You groan as he adds another finger to join the first, stretching you open as your nails dig crescent-shaped moons into the base of his neck, leaving reddened indents against his skin as he growls from the slight twinge of pain. The sounds coming from your cunt are downright crude, echoing around the empty alley as he deliberately curls his fingers to press against the spongy spot inside you.

“Shit, you’re fuckin’ dripping.” Bakugou grunts, watching your creamy slick dribble down his fingers and settle into his palm, his thumb pressing sloppy circles against your needy clit as you shamelessly rock your hips into his touch. Greedily searching for the orgasm that he’s more than happy to give to you.

“Look at you,” He goads, “You’re so fuckin’ easy. This sloppy ‘nd I’ve barely even touched you. Is this all it takes, sweet girl?”

You don’t have the heart to tell him how long it's been since anyone touched you like this, that no matter how hard you try to replicate his touch after today, you’ll probably never feel anything like this again. It’s like he’s tempting you to say something, to give him a witty comeback. But you can’t, not when his fingers are stroking you in all the right places, stretching you out in preparation for what you know is soon to come. You spread your thighs further apart to give him more access, a movement that has a wide grin from ear to ear appearing on his face. Standing on shaky heels as he ensures you stay upright with a palm on your waist.

He knows when he’s found it, like a lost ship searching for the bright glow of a lighthouse to guide it home. Pushing his calloused digits against the same spot that he knows will have you coming undone.

“Right there, huh baby?” He coos, “Yeah, I know, I know. Such a pretty pussy.”

You must look debauched now, your tongue lolling out as you pant pathetically with your head knocking against the cold brick wall. Allowing Bakugou– a complete stranger– to do as he so pleases with you.

“Oi, you listening to me?” He growls, and you can’t even remember what he’s just said. So lost in your own bliss as he continues to press the same persistent circles against your clit, “Course you ain’t, so desperate to cum, hm?’

“Please, Bakugou.” You mumble, breaking off into a salacious moan as he increases his pace eagerly trying to push you over the edge. He’s watching intently as you writhe against him, dangerously close to your release as you pulse around his digits.

“Fuck,” He almost snarls, the sound sending shockwaves direct to your needy cunt as you feel yourself vaulting into your bliss.

His fingers don’t stop their ministrations, even as you're crying out for him and gushing all over them. He instead, increases his pace, determined to have you completely intoxicated on him before he's even begun.

“You’re so goddamn noisy, ain’tcha?” He scoffs, finally pulling his digits from your spent cunt with a crude squelch. Unabashedly holding them up to his lips as he tastes you on his tongue, groaning as though he's tasted the sweetest ambrosia as he cleans you off his skin.

“Please, Bakugou.” You slur, legs shaky from the intense orgasm he’d gifted you as he pulls his fingers from his mouth.

Bakugou’s fingers are quick to unfasten his belt, letting the heavy buckle hang as he dipped his thumbs into the hem of his boxers to pull them down along with his jeans. Letting the material settle around the curve of his ass, just enough to free his aching cock. The sight of it had your thighs quivering in anticipation, the bulging head an angry pink colour as it oozed pre from the slit. Dribbling down the underside as the veins that forked along his girth made him appear even bigger, the length of it drooped down from the sheer weight as you wondered how on earth he could keep something that size hidden beneath his jeans.

“S’big,” You murmur, biting down on your lower lip as your cunt throbs in anticipation. Even his balls look huge, thick and weighty as you watch him give himself a teasing pump. His wrist rolling as he smears pre along the length. Ready to ignore how damp and filthy the floor looks in favour of dropping to your knees to worship his cock as it deserves.

“Think you can still manage it though, sweetheart.” He grins, “I know that pretty pussy’s good for it.”

You’re almost disappointed when he pulls a condom out from his wallet in his back pocket, seemingly you’ve found the only man in the entire bar with a conscience as he rips the foil packet open with his teeth. Lifting one of your thighs up to press against his hip as his cock slips between your folds, the fat tip catching against your entrance as he sucks in a breath.

“Don’t do that,” Bakugou groans, “You’ll make me wanna fuck you raw.”

“Do it then.” You challenge, wondering whether he really is like all the sleazy men your friends end up with.

“Another time, baby.” He glowers back, pushing the tip of the condom against the head of his cock as he slides it down his length.

The first push against your tight entrance has the air stolen from your lungs, a dull ache from the stretch in your core as his thick cock slowly breaches your sex.

“Holy fuck,” He grunts, his fingers dipping into the fat of your thigh as he holds it against his hip, “You’re so tight.”

He smirks at how desperate you are to feel him inside you, trying to drop yourself down on his length as he gives a few, shallow thrusts. Your fingers dig into his skin to try and get him to give you more, rewarding you by thrusting all the way inside. One sharp rut is all it takes to have him sheathed inside you, your walls moulding to the shape of his cock as he takes a moment to cherish the sensation of you wrapped around him.

“Told you I’d slide right in, perfect fuckin’ pussy.” He groans, slowly pulling back as he glances down between you to watch his cock slide out of your warm heat before you take every inch again.

There’s not much you can do in this position except stand there and take what Bakugou’s got to give, his rough thrusts push you against the wall as he almost sweeps you off your feet. His messy pubes tickle your clit with every forward motion as your essence leaks from your needy cunt and dribbles down his heavy balls.

His scent is intoxicating, the saccharine tartness has you tugging him closer. Burying your nose into his neck to smell the mixture of cologne and his natural scent. It’s almost comforting as you cling to him a little tighter, trying to commit it to memory so you can cherish it when you inevitably end up alone after tonight.

“Oh, god.” You cling to his broad shoulders, holding him tight as he sets a brutal pace. The fabric of your dress catches against the rough brick behind you as he leaves a trail of kisses against your cheek.

The sensation is overwhelming, the pleasure rapidly building inside you as he continues thrusting into you with hard, sharp ruts of his hips. For once, the only thing you can think about is the white-hot pleasure coursing through you. The soothing ache from his cock stretching you open is almost cathartic as you let him use your body as he pleases, his rough hands groping at your exposed skin as he presses more scorching kisses against your jugular, sharp teeth nipping at your skin.

“Oh fuck, Bakugou.” You cry out, louder than intended as your toes curl from his harsh movement.

“Shit– You want us to get caught, sweetheart?” He groans, his palm reaching up to cover your mouth, “Can’t kiss you to shut’cha up, can I? So I’ll have to do this.”

And maybe it’s better this way, your lips warm against his palm as your lipstick smears against it. Otherwise, with the way he was looking down at you, you probably would’ve kissed him.

Your moans are muffled by Bakugou now, his pace unrelenting as he gives rough thrusts inside you. The lewd squelch vibrates around the empty alley and mingles with the loud thrum of bass that vibrates from inside the club. The loud bustle of voices only feet away as anyone could turn down and see you both in such a compromising position— not that it would be anything unusual. You certainly aren’t the first couple to fuck down this alley, if the empty condom wrappers and bottles are anything to go by, and you surely won’t be the last. But it’s been so unlike you to allow yourself to submit to your pleasure, to live a little.

“You still with me, pretty girl?” He groans, “Pussy feels so good. Can feel you clamping down around me.”

You whined against his palm, feeling the pleasure intensifying inside you as Bakugou continued his rough pace. Drunken patrons hollered boisterously as they left the bar causing him to shield your body with his broad back, taking his eyes off you to ensure they didn’t decide to come down the alleyway to interrupt you.

“Fuckin’ pricks.” Bakugou snarled under his breath as he stilled inside of you.

Your entire body felt as though it was on fire, hovering dangerously close to the edge of your climax as your cunt clenched around his thick cock. Causing Bakugou to suck a harsh breath through his teeth as he brought his attention back to you, the corner of his lip curling into a sly smirk.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I didn’t forget about you,” He groaned, languidly moving inside you, “Gonna make you cum so hard.”

“Please,” You mumbled, muffled by his hand as he began rolling his hips, the bulging tip of his cock catching against the spongy spot inside you with each pronounced thrust.

“Fuck,” Bakugou snarls, moving his hand from your mouth in favour of slipping it between your bodies to thumb at your clit. The sensation has your knees buckling as your weight drops, no longer able to hold yourself up. But he’s strong, keeping you pinned between his body and the wall as he keeps his unrelenting pace, “Come on, pretty girl. I know you’re close, can feel you choking me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It’s embarrassing really, how one man— a stranger, can have you coming undone like this in public no less.

“So fuckin’ noisy, shit-” He grunts, his ruby gaze intense as he watches you come undone.

Bakugou steals your climax from you, his thumb is unrelenting against your clit as he feels your cunt clamp down around him. The loud cry that spills from your lips has him wincing as he hopes no one’s decided to look down the alley for a free show— something that would certainly make the front page this very morning. He eases you through your high, the white spots that dance across your vision make it feel like you’re seeing stars. A sea of constellations against your eyelids as you succumb to the pleasure.

“You look so pretty when you cum,” He groans, his face buried in the apex of your neck as he inhales deeply, committing your scent to memory as he cherishes the way your cunt clenches around his cock.

Bakugou pushes his fat cock inside you, as deep as he can go. Until his balls are snug against the swell of your ass as he feels the tremble of your cunt coming down from your high. His warm breath scorches your neck as he gives himself a moment's respite before picking up his pace once more, greedily using your body to chase his own release. His palm pushes your thigh up higher against his hip, changing the angle as the swollen tip of his cock finds what it was searching for. The euphoria already surging through your veins is enhanced by the attention from his cock knocking against the same spot inside you over, and over, and over.

“Think you can give me one more, sweet girl?” He rasps, watching your thick lashes flutter as tears blind your vision.

“I– can’t,” You manage to get out between broken breaths, unadulterated pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Yeah, you can.” He coos, his thumb persistent against your clit as he ruts into the same spot inside you, “C’mon, for me?”

The sensation building inside you is almost painful, still overwhelmed from your last intense climax the pleasure still bubbling to the surface as Bakugou is unrelenting. It’s too much, and yet not enough at the same time.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart.” He groans, “Cum for me.”

Your body feels ungovernable as you succumb to the pleasure, a cry of his name tumbling from your lips that he doesn’t try to silence as he holds your quivering body. Preventing you from thrashing as he clings to you tightly, fingertips creating divots in your plush thigh.

“Oh fuck, there we go.” He snarls primally, nostrils flaring as he gives a few final shaky ruts of his hips, spilling his release inside the condom with a grunt as you both bask in the aftershocks of your release.

You’re certain if he let go of you now you’d collapse to the dirty floor, your legs no longer strong enough to support your weight as you cling to Bakugou. And he holds you back just as tight, dropping your sore thigh in favour of wrapping his arms around your waist as he remains buried inside your fluttering cunt.

He can still feel you spasming when he finally pulls out of you, sliding the condom off his spent cock as he shamelessly throws it onto the ground. Fixing your panties before pulling your dress back down around your thighs to hide your modesty before he moves to tuck his wet cock back inside his underwear and buttons his jeans.

You hadn’t expected him to hold you so tenderly, as though you were the world's most precious porcelain. But you both stand there for what feels like forever, basking in the afterglow as you sway side to side.

A large palm raised to cup your warm cheek, the calloused pad of his thumb brushing against the soft skin as he tilted your head to meet his gaze. Leaning forward as his eyes crossed to stare at your pouty lips, closing the distance slowly until you placed a palm on his chest.

“No kissing.” You repeated, turning your head as Bakugou pulled back, squinting at you.

“Still?” Bakugou grunts, “Why the no kissin’ bullshit?”

You couldn’t explain it to him, especially not after this. Wondering if it would be easier to make up a lie about your breath smelling or being nervous.

“I just can’t.” You sounded pathetic, internally wincing at the pitiful tone of your voice.

“Yeah, why?” He continued, “You got a boyfriend or somethin’?”

He actually looked hurt as he asked the question, his crimson gaze searching your eyes for any kind of deception as you shake your head no.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Husband?” Bakugou pushes as you shake your head again.

“No.”

“Then what’s the fuckin’ problem?” He spits, slightly more harshly than intended.

“You won’t like it,”

I don’t want to know when you die. You think to yourself.

“Like fuck I won’t.” He scoffed, “Fuckin’ dumbass.”

Bakugou caught you by surprise when he wrapped his palm around your neck, holding you so tenderly as he ducked his head forward. Catching you even more by surprise as he placed his chapped lips against yours, his tongue instantly slipping past your parted lips to delve deeper.

Fuck.

The first time you’ve actually felt something for someone this had to happen. The premonition played clearly behind your eyes as you felt Bakugou’s tongue mould against your own, a deep timber groan vibrating against your mouth as he lost himself in the kiss.

Of course, whatever higher power couldn’t just let you be happy for once, you had to see the fate in store for Bakugou Katsuki.

Pulling away from your lips as his tongue poked out to taste your lipgloss, the corner of his lips curled into a smug smirk as you stared up at him in complete horror. This wasn’t good—

You’d hoped that his death would be a peaceful one, dying a natural death surrounded by his loved ones at a ripe old age. But it was anything but, the terrifying vision now imprinted onto your memory. And you wished he never kissed you, not only so he wouldn’t die but so you wouldn’t have to see this vision every time you close your eyes.

With one kiss you’d sealed his fate.

“Fuck,” He mumbled, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath.

You’d convinced yourself that as long as you didn’t kiss him, it would be okay— but now you’d seen the future you knew nothing would be okay.

Humans are such selfish creatures.

“Yeah, fuck.” You groaned.

[inspirationalucky]

EPIC: THE VENGEANCE SAGA PROMPTS & STARTERS.

of course, go ahead and change names/pronouns/words/etc as necessary to fit your muse or the situation! please do not add more lines/prompts to this post!

Not Sorry for Loving You

"Someone arrived today."

"They said they're taking you away."

"You're not mine to save"

"Soon, I won't get to see your face."

"You're unlike anyone I have ever known."

"You're all I've ever known."

"If I ambushed you, for that I'll say I was wrong."

"If you hate me, then I am sorry my love's too much for you."

"I'm not sorry for loving you!"

"Let me speak!"

"I spent my whole life here."

"I was cast away when I was young."

"I thought for sure that you were my dream come true."

"I'm angry, and tired, and restless, and sad."

"I'm stuck in the moments I swore that we had!"

"I wish you would chase me or try to embrace me!"

"I love you, but not in the way that you want me to."

"I hate that I fell in love with you!"

"What do I do with this love for you?"

"Why in the world won't you love me too?"

Dangerous

"I had one goal in mind."

"How will I reach my homeland?"

"Hello, old friend!"

"You're being given a final option."

"Consider this your one last chance to make it back home"

"If your plan's so great, then why'd you wait to say it?"

"It's a little bit dangerous, my friend."

"You'll need a mindset change for this."

"You cannot get away with playing safe for this."

"You wanna get home? Put it all on the line."

"Remember every trick in your domain for this."

"You gotta treat it like it is the main event!"

"All right, I'm in. What do I do?"

"Follow the North Star!"

"Fight your way through, do what you must do."

"No matter what, keep moving."

"You won't get another time to try."

"It was meant to stop you by design."

"Open this bag, and you'll never make it home."

"Don't you know that danger is my friend?"

"My whole life I've trained for this."

"I have to get home!"

"I plan to put an end to all of the foolishness."

Charybdis

"I'd like to hurry up and end this."

"So, if you don't have much to say..."

"I'm not dying here!"

"I'm still fighting here!"

"I'm holding on 'till I see this through and I've beaten you."

"I already know your tactics."

"I don't even have to kill you, I just have to avoid you!"

"See, if you don't spit it out soon, all that water will destroy you!"

"I'm holding on 'till you're out of breath."

"There! I see it! The island I've been searching for!"

"My wife and son are past these shores."

"My love, don't be scared."

"I am on my way, I'll be there today!"

Get in the Water

"There you are... coward."

"I've been waiting for this moment... for the perfect time to strike."

"I've got a reputation!"

"I've got a name to uphold!"

"I can't go letting you walk or else the world forgets I'm cold."

"Now, get in the water."

"Don't mistake my threats for bluffs!"

"You have lived more than enough!"

"I'll take your son and gouge his eyes! That is, unless you choose to die."

"Aren't you tired, Poseidon?"

"It's been ten years, how long can this go?"

"We're both hurting from losses."

"Why not leave this here and just go home?"

"Maybe you could learn to forgive!"

Six Hundred Strike

"I don't think you seem to get it. I can't afford to die!"

"I will get back to my son, and I will get back to my wife!"

"You idiot. Can't you see?"

"You sealed your fate just to beat me."

"You released my storm when you opened that bag."

"You blocked your one way home!"

"Now you'll never get back."

"You're going to call off that storm."

"Or what? You can't kill me!"

"How does it feel to be helpless?"

"How does it feel to know pain?"

"I watched my friends die in horror."

"I heard their final moments!"

"Look what you've turned me into!”

“Look what we've become!"

"All of the pain that I've been through… haven't I suffered enough?"

"You didn't stop when I begged you!"

“You told m to close my heart!”

"You said the world was dark!"

"Didn't you say that ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves?"

“Alright! Please…”

"After everything you've done, how will you sleep at night?"

[fridayyy-13th]

gonna be honest, feeling very conflicted about this episode, lads. i've been really hoping Protocol won't explain away the (NARRATIVELY IMPORTANT) mystery left at the end of Archives, i.e. Jon and Martin's fate, so seeing as they're the next thing Sam and Celia are gonna be investigating, this is kinda gonna be the thing that makes or breaks Protocol, for me.

i do think there's a solid chance Chester and Norris are the Jon and Martin from Protocol's universe, and that is something i absolutely would not mind. but i haven't actually made a post explaining why i think that, and i should probably do that before it's explained, just so i can mayyyybe say i called it.

(for the record, i'm pretty sure i came up with most of this before the series even officially dropped, when all we had was the ARG and the trailer. i haven't done much to connect this theory to the further information we've learned, so it's probably not fully accurate (if accurate at all). and quite a bit of it is kinda baseless conjecture; i'm just throwing my thoughts out there. just a little disclaimer.)

so!

in Archives, Jonah's primary motivation is fear of death. turning to the Eye is what allows him to body-hop as he does for 200 years, trying to create a world where his Patron reigns supreme, where he is seated upon its throne and cannot die. assuming his motivation is the same in Protocol, this new universe is (likely until recently) untouched by the Entities. if Jonah wanted to evade death, how could he do that without the help of an eldritch fear god?

easy—alchemy.

i'm not particularly knowledgeable about the subject as a whole, but i'm certainly familiar with the Philosopher's Stone (the symbol of which is also present in the OIAR's/podcast's logo, though it seems the OIAR is more focused on balance than on experimentation).

i also know that the seven metals used in alchemy (gold, silver, mercury, copper, lead, iron, and tin) are all components of computer chips. i've been thinking Jonah, or maybe his successors, saw that and began turning their research to how it could be utilized to extend—or preserve—life.

to cut to the chase, bc frankly it's hard trying to sound like i know what i'm talking about and this post would take forever to write otherwise, i think Jonah tried to Sergei Ushanka himself into a computer, because metal and plastic are a hell of a lot longer-lasting than a human being.

but he wouldn't shove his consciousness into some random motherboard without making sure it was safe, what do you take him for?? he is a man of academia. obviously he had to test it on others first, and then he'd do it himself.

cue the thought experiments the Institute ran on kids. the things the experiments quantify are empathy and obedience to authority, which to me screams that they were trying to find kids who were easy to manipulate into more dangerous experiments.

and who are two characters who were kids in the 90s, with circumstances that left them lonely, isolated, and who, even as adults, are desperate to please (whether a parent or a bad boss)? Jon and Martin.

i posit that Jon and Martin were both victims of these experiments, perhaps the first (and only) successful subjects, and Jonah uploaded his consciousness to the computer soon after. their records could have been stricken from the spreadsheet to hide that they'd even been part of the program, and given the Institute burned down soon after, and there were no survivors—it could have been assumed that they'd died in the fire. it isn't like they had the most doting guardians to worry over them.

...but Chester and Norris's voices are those of adult Jon and Martin.

best i can figure, Jonah's plan might have worked in the short term, but computers have had date/time hardware in them since the 80s, so they—and Augustus—are still aging. so they've been trapped in computer software since 1999, and now that Sam and Celia are digging into what happened, they're desperate to catch their attention and find a way out.

(and lastly, a fun little thought—given Jon and Martin were both born circa 1987, they would have been twelve in 1999. they didn't even get to be teenagers.)

[parismemes]

SENTENCE STARTERS FROM EPIC: THE MUSICAL - THE WISDOM SAGA

LEGENDARY

"It's just me, myself and I."

"I'm stuck with your stories, but no clue who you are."

"Come and give me a sign."

"If I fight those monsters, is it you I'll find?"

"I know life and fate are scary, but I wanna be legendary."

"There are strangers in our halls."

"It's not much longer we can stall."

"They're getting impatient. Dangerous, too."

"I would fight them if I was half as strong as you."

"Somebody help me!"

"Come and give me the strength."

"Can I do whatever it takes to keep my mom safe?"

"Where is he?"

"Give me a chance. A single opportunity."

"Don't you dare call my mother a tramp!"

"What'cha gonna do about it, champ?"

LITTLE WOLF

"Wanna entertain me?"

"Let's see how you take this."

"You've made your worst mistake here."

"You'll have run out of bones to break when you and I are through."

"I'll teach you all the lessons your daddy never could."

"This cruel world doesn't give out presents just for being good."

"Don't you know it's fight or fly?"

"Run away before you die."

"Need some help?"

"What's going on here?"

"I suggest you fight back."

"Uppercut him. Now."

"Woah, that is so sick!"

"Let's try this again."

"I've no respect for bullies."

"Let's teach this dog a lesson in front of all his kind."

"One young wolf has a larger heart than all these men combined."

"Show them that you've got some bite."

"Don't go down without a fight!"

"...Maybe I pushed you a bit too hard."

"Go back and cry in your corner."

"Tell me why you came to my aid."

WE'LL BE FINE

"I had a friend before, and he was a lot like you."

"Maybe, if I'd made a different call..."

"I don't know who your friend is."

"My time with you's been splendid."

"I got in a fight and I didn't die!"

"I've never felt strong before."

"You're my friend, I couldn't ask for more."

"Maybe it's time that you lend a hand."

"If not his friend, then mine."

"Maybe to fall is to learn one way."

"Maybe it's all gonna turn out great."

"I know we'll be fine."

"I know it's light you'll find."

"You're a good kid."

LOVE IN PARADISE

"Old friend, it's been ten years since I last saw you."

"Let's see where you've been."

"Where did you go?"

"Morning, sleepyhead! You've been resting for a while."

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

"I've got all you could want here!"

"Just you and me, my dear."

"Soon into bed we'll climb, and spend our time..."

"I'm not your man."

"I'm what you want."

"From here on out, you're mine."

"Hell no, I could kill you where you stand!"

"Last I checked, goddesses can't die."

"We've got all we could want here."

"No one can come or go."

"I don't belong here!"

"There's something wrong here."

"Time can take a heavy toll."

"All I hear are screams."

"Get away from the ledge."

"You don't know what I've gone through."

"You don't know what I've sacrificed."

"Come back inside, dear."

"Let me close my eyes."

"I'll stay inside your heart."

"Life would be so much worse if you had died."

"Stay in my open arms."

"He needs my help."

GOD GAMES

"Rarely do I ask for favors."

"Divine intervention; is that what you seek?"

"You're playing with thunder for a man full of shame."

"Why not make it a game?"

"Bring it."

"We all know I'm a fan of catchy songs."

"All he did was reimburse them."

"Trust is not given, it's forged."

"Why should I give him my support?"

"If you make the right decision, he can still build a future with those who miss him."

"He was busy fighting."

"Let him feel the pain that his mother felt and rot."

"Please reconsider this!"

"Really, ___, these old tricks?"

"What kind of sick coward holds back his power?"

"Tell your lover that a broken heart can mend!"

"To get back to his homestead, he'll make everybody bleed."

"He's got the mind of a genius."

"I've played your game and won!"

"You dare to defy me?"

"No one beats me."

"Bring her through the wringer."

"Is she dead?"

"Let him go, please!"

[jessilynallendilla]

BEN 10 FIC REC

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES

let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to suggest any

Cold  G 2,161 

Just because Ben isn't an Anodite like Gwen doesn't mean that he doesn't have anything in common with his grandmother. 

Back To The Future?  T 

It should have been a routine in-and-out mission. So when things go wrong (as per usual) and Ben thinks he's dead for sure, he's a bit surprised to find himself waking up in the Rustbucket with a ten-year-old Gwen sleeping on the bunk below him, and the calendar on the RV fridge indicating that it was the middle of June in 2006. 

Arguably, The Second Worst Thing To Happen To Rook Blonko  T 3,849 

Ben and Rook meet as kids, during the same summer Ben got the Omnitrix. When Rook can't be returned to his home planet, he ends up in Max Tennyson's care, and he and Ben become best friends. 

Ben 10 Writing Prompts  G 5,471 

A series of Ben 10 writing prompts on tumblr that people, and I, wanted to be saved onto AO3. Here ya go. 

Black Stripes  M 

With the Omnitrix around his wrist Ben's mission in life is to solely help in creating a better universe, however on a mission with his Grandfather Max he never expected to see just how ugly the universe could really be. With a submissive feline type alien bound to his side in servitude Ben's finding out once again just how ugly the universe is, and just how small he is compared to those who wish to tear him and everyone he loves down. 

Benmommy  G 2,124 

Kenny and Gwendolyn (and Devlin) find out that they have older brothers. Ben attempts to be a parent to his other kids. 

14 Of 10  G 

Set After Vengeance of Vilgax. Ben soon gets word of a Poacher kidnapping fourteen Necrofriggians and leaps into action. After his team rescues his babies, Ben decides it’s better for them to return to Earth and be raised there due to them having more humanity in them, causing other Necrofriggians to isolate them from others of their species. How will the Tennyson’s react with the latest members of their family coming? 

Cross Your Heart (And Hope To Die)  T 150,756 SERIES 

By some cruel twist of fate, it was a freak accident that killed Ben Tennyson. When Rook received a cosmic second chance at undoing the disaster that he blamed himself for, he first thought of it as a blessing. Until the same day repeated again. And again and again and again. 

Metamorphosis  T 

Suddenly, and without explanation, the Omnitrix becomes more. Ben, himself, becomes More. And maybe a little less human along the way. Or, Yes, Rook, Ben’s Eyes Have Always Been This Green, Giving Electric Shocks by Accident is Helpful Actually, How Many Eyes Do Humans Have Anyways, Ben Can Hear Every Equation, The Terrifying Ordeal of One the Most Powerful Tools in The Universe Attached To Your Body, Hey Attaching Alien Technology To Your Body Hurts Actually, The Watch Is Sentient, Ignore Ben's Left Arm It Has Always Been This Black and Green! 

Soccer Moms Drive Minivans  T 3,001 

PTA meetings get infinitely more interesting when one of the parents is barely twenty and also the father of fourteen alien babies. 

Keep the Charm But Don't Break My Heart  T 

There's one thing about Big Chill's Offspring that needs to be said: They'll do anything to find one another but also they're children that still need a bit of help. Luckily, Ben is willing to step in and help them. Or: A series of one-shots centred around each of the children as they find their way back home again. 

CROSSOVERS 

Who Are You?  T 92,750 

Danny was on patrol when he felt a prick on his side. Later on, he wakes up in a cell where a boy is thrown in by mysterious men in black and white uniforms. The two of them becomes friends when another boy their age enters their cell to do his job. The results was unsatisfactory for everyone. What will happen to the three boys? 

Space Hockey And Mothbabies  T 2,941 SERIES 

Danny takes an unexpected trip to the omniverse, Kevin owes Danny a favor, and Ben suffers for his crimes against ghost kind. 

Omni-Justice  NR 1,483 

The Justice League is luckily in a meeting when an alien conqueror issues a challenge to Earth. They began planning almost immediately but Green Lantern put a stop to it instantly. It’s not their challenge to answer so they can not interfere. 

What Is A Kryptonian And Why Is He In My Omnitrix  T 

Ben 10 finds his way into the DC universe. Shenanigans ensue. 

Ben, You're A Mother!?  G 

While in a fight with Captain Cold, Flash discovers a small blue little moth alien that has strayed too far from home. This leads the Justice League down a path of finding out a whole lot of new things about their new teammate and recruit, Ben Tennyson. One of those things being the fact that he is apparently a mother to fourteen little ice moth babies! Hilarity, chaos, and family shenanigans ensue 

[axcel-lucci]

Death will never keep us apart.

Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Note: established relationship, also... Slight... Angst?

"You can do it, (y/n)!" Bepo encouraged as he held her hand

It reassured her through deep pushes just to push their son out of her body.

"(Y/n)! One more, I promise this'll all be over soon!" Law said as he was the one aiding her.

"If fucking 47 hours in labour is 'soon', I'm fucked!" She yelled as she basically death gripped on Bepo's paw making the poor bear cry a little on the inside.

After all that, the baby was safely delivered.

She could could feel herself slowly getting weaker as she breathes I'm air.

"Hey..." Law called as he pulled of his gloves and his mask, "you did great..."

He kissed her forehead, "don't worry... They're taking care of the baby, cleaning him up and feeding him... Bepo, can you go and get the other bed ready?" Law said as he held her hand in which she weakly gripped unto.

The bear nodded and left, but not without taking a peak of the cute baby boy.

"Hey" he called, more sternly now, "are you alright?" He asked, worryingly as he checked her pulse.

Her pulse was gradually starting to get weaker, and weaker as she breathes heavily.

"(Y/n)..." He called, no response.

He called again, still no response until he felt the pulse suddenly disappear

"(Y/n)! No!" He yelled before holding unto her tight, "please...!"

...

"What... Where...?" (Y/n) muttered before looking around to a white void she found herself waking up at.

She remembers giving birth and...

"Am I..."

"Yes, you are dead." Someone with a smooth voice said behind her as she turned around to see an angel smiling down softly at her

"What... No. No! I can't!"

...

"(Y/n)! Please, please, please wake up!" Law begged as he did all procedures he can think of just to have her heart beat right back.

The crew held on to the now sleeping baby in their arms, afraid that if they handed him the baby... He'd lose himself.

....

"What do you mean? Your life has come to an end, is it not?" The angel smiles with its voice, "is it not enough rat you have successfully delivered a baby boy, changed his father's life for the better, and found a family...?"

"No. It's not enough. I grew up without a mother, I... Don't even know who my mother is... I don't want to come a time when... Even my own child doesn't know who I am. And Law... My husband... He... He lost so many... I promised him I'd stay by him until the end-"

"This is the end." The angel said, almost annoyingly, "your end, that is"

She frowned, "no. Bring me back. Now." She demanded, "my baby... My husband..." She grumbled, "I can't leave them. I don't want to leave them."

"But this is your fate, the fate that our creator has written for us..." The angel reasoned

"No. I do not accept this creator. I do not accept whatever fictional stories they're writing. I do NOT accept whatever they do. What, are we all just a doll to them??" She questioned

"That's not-"

"Shut. Up. We are not dolls, I am a mother and a wife. You are an angel. Not puppets and specially not dolls." She growled, "either you bring me back or you'll have to drag me kicking and screaming to the depths of hell"

"Angels don't go to hell..." The angel cried a bit before sighing deeply; "you know... When the creator said you'd be resisting... I didn't expect them to mean... This..."

"Well guess what, I won't be resisting if you bring me back. My husband is waiting for me, he cannot raise a child because he himself is an inner child... And it's my job to protect my children." She huffed

The angel just stared before sighing, "you seriously are a crazy woman... Most, if not all, the people that die come willingly... But you... You're different... I guess that's a mother's love... Huh?"

She just stomped her foot, "bring me back or I will seriously inflict irreversible damage to you and your piece of shit morals."

"Woah! No need to get so verbal...!" The angel gasped, "okay...! Okay...! I'll... I'll send you back..."

"That's what I thought."

"Gosh... The creator is so gonna scold me..."

...

"(Y/n), please...!" Law yelled as he kept giving her CPR

"Captain..." Shachi said, "I think it's.."

"No! She's not dead...! I know it!" He yelled before turnin to his crew, will visible hurt and anger in his eyes but tears kept spilling out, "get me a fucking blood bag instead! And make sure it's her blood type!"

"Y-yes sir...!" The crew nodded as Ikkaku held on to the sweet baby boy, unaware of what's happening around him.

He turned back to (y/n) only to slowly cup her cheeks with his hands, they were shivering... Trembling...

One would think a surgeon's hand would be steady and precise but...

His hands were shaking as he cupped her cheeks and desperately called out to her in almost a ragged whisper, "please... (Y/n)... Come back... I can't raise him alone... I can't raise our baby alone... I can't... I can't live without you... Please..." He begged while softly yet shakily kissing her in hopes that she wakes up, "... Please" his voice quivered.

He slowly starts to lose hope and accept her death, "please... Just... One more time... Please..." He cried.

The stoic and cold demeanour washed away by the fountains and rivers of his continuous tears.

Law kissed her lips, softly yet shakily before one of his hand hold hers in a tight grip, "please..." He muttered, "please wake up..."

A few moments later and he felt her hand twitch making him gasp and stand up straight, he could feel her hand grip his again as she tried her best to open her eyes only to close them back up from exhaustion.

One of his crew finally came back with a blood bag and law immediately hooked it to her, "(y/n)...!" He slowly smiled before she lifted a hand to his face.

Her hand missed when she tried to hold his face due to the haziness of her vision, "Law..."

"Rest up, my love..." He said before wiping away his tears, "and as soon as you wake up, you can see little Cora." He smiled before kissing her forehead

"Law... You bastard..." She laughed weakly, "I still don't appreciate the literal hours of my labour."

"I know... My love... I promise, I'll take good care of you and the baby forever. Just tell me what you need, I'll give them to you"

She smiled, "give me a kiss... Please?"

"Yes..." He smiled before kissing her.

...

She slowly woke up to the smell of isopropyl alcohol and anesthesia as it slowly wears off.

She ground before lifting a hand to rub her eyes open.

"Dear...! You're finally awake" he smiled brightly as he stood beside her bed and helped her sit up

"Ow... Ow..." She groaned, "is this fucking normal?" She frowned as he massaged her body

"Yes... It is."

"Dammit... I'm so not having another child." She huffed while crossing her arms

"Aww... But I want three children..." He pouts cutely making her huff

"Yeah yeah... Me too" she grumbled, "wait...! What happened to baby Cora?!"

"Shh... Here..." He smiled and motioned to a small hospital bed meant for babies beside him.

He slowly took the baby to his arms, supporting the places he knew needed to be supported and hands it over to her.

She gladly took the baby into her arms as he sleeps peacefully in a blanket Klione knitted for him.

"Oh... Law..." She smiled as she stared at the literal "copy, paste" of law and his child, "I'm upset how he looks so much like you and yet I'm the one who almost died"

"Come now..." He muttered and hugged her waist, "I'm sure he has your traits." He smiled before kissing her shoulder, "and... Thank you"

"For what?" She looked at him with a small smile

"For staying... I thought you were gonna die, too..." He mumbled

"Law..." She smiled before kissing his cheek, "fun fact, I grilled that angel right open as he tried dragging me off to the afterlife"

Law laughed softly, "so... Even death won't keep us apart, no?" He smiled.

"I guess it is..." She chuckled, "also... It hurts like literal hell, law... Can I have at least some pain meds??"

Law chuckled before nodding, "but you can take them later after eating..." He kissed her forehead, "I love you so much..."

"I love you more..." She smiled and kissed him.

He smiled before kissing back.

[memekais]

epic the musical sentence starters. the circe saga. feel free to change pronouns as needed!

puppeteer

i have something that i must confess, something that i must get off my chest. until it is said, i cannot rest.

there's only so much left we can endure.

whatever you need to say can wait some more - of that, i'm sure.

[name], back so soon? where's the rest of your crew?

we came across a palace. inside we heard a voice.

nothing could prepare us for the power that awaited inside...

sir, since we left home we've faced a variety of foes from a wide range of places - gods, monsters, you know the roster, hostile creatures that we could resist.

this was a hell of a twist, cause we are weak to a power like this.

welcome to the best part of your lives.

go ahead and rest wherever you like.

i got you, don't worry [name]'s got you now.

i bet you're tired from the years spent on your feet.

think of your past and your mistakes.. they'll be the last mistakes you'll make.

i got all the power, yeah, i got all the power.

no, i'm not a player, i'm a puppeteer.

they transformed... and it wasn't quick.

this is the price we pay to live.

the world does not tend to forgive.

look at all we've lost and all we've learned, every single cost is so much more than what we've earned.

think about the men we have left before there are none.

let's just cut our losses, you and i, and let's run.

i can hardly sleep now knowing everything we've done.

there's no length i wouldn't go if it was you i had to save. i can only hope you'd do the same.

what if she can't be killed? will you choose to leave?

no one will find their way between my nymphs and i, their loving queen.

it's a game of wits but you don't have to play.

wouldn't you like

i must say what a brilliant speech you gave.

you wanna beat her? you'll need the blessing of a certain god.

[silly little laugh]

wouldn't you like a taste of the power? wouldn't you like to use more than words?

deep in the night the fight lasts for hours.

you can be hurt or you can beat her.

wouldn't you like to have some of thе magic? wouldn't you like your outcome prefеrred?

deep in the night the fight can be tragic.

i'll help you conquer her.

she can turn you into an animal that'll end up on her plate. she can all but make you fall in love like you're on your hundredth date!

she can conjure up a monster that'll grind you to the bones.

she has all the ways to haunt ya when you take her on alone.

here in the root of this flower, there lies such a power to take her on.

don’t thank me friend, you very well may die. haha, good luck!

done for

i sent out some scouts to take a look around through here and they wound up at your door.

through the years we seldom get a warm welcome, so i must ask just to be sure... did you do something to them?

all i did was reveal their true forms.

i don't know who you are nor why you're here but let me make this one thing clear: i've got people to protect, nymphs i can't nеglect so i'm not taking chances, dear.

if you makе one wrong move, then you're done for.

anything i don't approve, then you're done for.

i could put a spell on you and you're done for.

boy, you better run or soon you will done for.

i don't mean to tip your scale but you will fail at placing any spells on me.

you better cower now and flee.

you must be a liar. mortals can't acquire moly without dire consequence.

then i must be a god like you cause i got this root from the ground with my bare hands.

you and i are now evenly matched. our fates are intertwined, they're attached.

i've got people to protect, friends i can't neglect so now there is no turning back.

you've made your one wrong move, now you're done for.

i will be the one to prove that you're done for.

not even a spell saves you, cause you're done for.

the last time we let strangers live, we faced a heavy loss.

you've given me no reason to bestow you with my trust.

everyone's true colours are revealed in acts of lust.

there are other ways

there are other ways of persuasion, there are other modes of control...

there are other means of deceit, there are other roads to the soul...

there are other actions of passion you have so much left to learn.

want to save your men from the fire? show me that you're willing to burn.

who's to say with the mistakes i've made that they will be the last mistakes i ever make?

there is so much power but there's puppet here.

this is the price we pay to love.

i'm just a man, forgive me.

back at home, my wife awaits for me.

she is my everything, my [name]... and she is all my power.

the god of tides is out to end my life.

so i beg you, [name], grant us mercy.

let us puppets leave.

there might be a way to evade him, there might be a way to get home though this other way’s very dangerous.

it might be your one final hope.

i can’t get you home, but I’ll get you to the underworld instead.

maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road.

i remember actions of passion... i have been in love once before.

maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more.

maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer more.

[13eyond13]

Hii! I don't know if you were asked this before, but I'm curious whether you prefer the manga or anime ending of death note and why? Also, your berserk meta posts are always such a delight to read!

Hi hi! It's admittedly been a long while since I've either read or watched the series at this point, so I took some time going back over my asks to see if I could find one where I'd talked about this before. Didn't come across one, but I've definitely contemplated this before, so I'll just do my best to remember what I thought.

So I like both of them in different ways, basically. But if I had to choose one over the other I'd choose the manga ending as the one that I prefer.

Here is a quick rundown of what I think are the biggest strengths and weaknesses of the anime ending:

The best things about the anime ending to me:

-Portrays the horrific awkwardness and tension in the warehouse between everybody leading up to and including Light's confession extremely well. I get so on the edge of my seat and anxious during the buildup to his big breakdown every time!

-Excellent voice acting and iconic laughter during Light's big dramatic Kira confession scene. Who DOESN'T remember that moment, it's definitely one of the anime's best

-Takes a slightly more gentle and merciful and quiet and melancholy approach to Light's death scene with the sorrowful music and the pretty sunset behind him, and takes the time to do things like flashback to his pre notebook innocent self, which is actually the only scene in the series that always makes me cry. Lets Light have a certain dignity and sadness to his death by allowing him to escape off by himself from the others and look as though he's drifting off slowly to sleep. For audience members who still empathize with Light on some level or see the sad side of how he was corrupted by the notebook this can be a choice that they prefer

-Gets so ridiculous and campy at certain points with things like Mikami stabbing himself to death with a pen and then exploding like a bag of blood that I can't help but laugh through the pain a bit

-Makes some nice aesthetic choices like having Light die symbolically on a staircase (which seems like a nod to the fact that he's going to Mu / an in-between or "nowhere" sort of place after he dies, or that he was stopped halfway up in his journey before he could truly attain the "godhood" he desired, and also seems like a bit of a parallel to the rain scene of him sitting on the staircase with L – also gives a little visual flashback nod to L during Light's final moments).

The worst things about the anime ending to me:

-Cuts a lot of important moments and stuff out of the conversations between Light and Near that really enhanced the overall meaning of the story and added to making Near a much more interesting and sympathetic character to me in the manga (particularly stuff like Near talking about what they have in common, and about letting other people have agency and freedom of choice, something that Light was uh not super great at)

-Did Mikami pretty dirty and cut most of his awkward interactions with Light in the warehouse (I feel like he doesn't even get to yell "you're not God!!" at Light in the anime, does he? I'm kinda forgetting now)

-Makes the SPK and the Task Force look a bit dumb and useless in how they're just saying stuff like "there's nothing we can do, he will be dead in a few minutes" while Mikami's bleeding out on the floor and just letting Light escape and run away from them all... also kinda makes it look like Light was SO wounded by the gunshots that he would've died soon anyway. Which takes away some of the dramatic impact that comes from Ryuk writing his name in the notebook!

-In the anime Ryuk seems almost to be writing Light's name in the notebook as a mercy killing, or like he's trying to put him out of his wounded misery, which I find detracts a bit from the whole idea in the manga that Light is forced to experience the same cold and cruel fate of somebody deliberately taking his remaining years of life from him with a death note against his will... something that he remorselessly inflicted upon so many others previously himself. The two of them also don't have any discussions before Light's death in the anime like they do in the manga, which were some pretty interesting and chilling parts of the ending to me (especially Ryuk saying stuff like "you're no longer entertaining me, so you should die right now" to him)

-There is no flashback in the anime to Light and Ryuk talking about EVERYBODY going to Mu after they die no matter how they behaved on earth, which was kinda hugely important as part of the point of the story to me (because I think it forces the audience to draw their own conclusions about who they think was truly good/bad or right/wrong in this story without pigeonholing any of them into one category or another, or by sending anybody to rewarding or punishing afterlifes... I also like that it doesn't treat the notebook users as any special category of person)

-As brutal as the manga ending is in how humiliated and frightened and alone Light is while he dies, I also think there's a certain poetic justice to the horror and embarrassment he experiences during that time. He was constantly taking other people's lives and treating them like pawns in his games, backstabbing and deceiving and discarding them once they were no longer useful to him, and even cruelly gloating over watching them die. I don't particularly enjoy watching him suffer except for how it is a bit narratively satisfying, in a tables-turning "you live by the sword you die by the sword" sort of way

-In general the anime kind of gave me the vibe that it thought Light losing in the warehouse was more about L's team finally winning against Light and getting revenge on him for L's death than about the deeper and more interesting philisophical/ethical questions and themes at play, and about all the entire cast of characters' journeys as a whole

--

Overall I'd say if you want a more narratively satisfying and logical ending with more food for thought and cruel irony and deeper character interactions and existential dread and poetic justice going on then the manga is superior in basically all of these ways

HOWEVER I do still also love the final episode of the anime, I think it's one of the best and most memorable episodes of the entire show, and if you decide to turn off your nitpicking brain a bit and simply enjoy the emotions that it conjures there are some very good dramatic/aesthetic/symbolic choices that it makes

[formerly-wraith-caller]

Rogier is a character that we meet early on in game, and probably one many of us think on fondly as he is perhaps the first NPC to help us out with one of our toughest battles. His pleasant and friendly demeanor left many players with the impression of a cheerful ray of sunshine in an otherwise melancholic, dreary, duplicitous, or outright hostile cast of characters.

This post seeks to disabuse you of that notion. "Wraith, you dumb bitch," I hear the doubters and the critics say, "not everything needs to be miserable and secretly tragic." And to you I say, welcome to FromSoftware, where yes, everyone dies and it hurts the whole time they're doing it.

🚨Spoilers Ahead🚨

I. A quick recap

The first place you can encounter Rogier is at a summons sign just outside Margit's boss fight. From there, you will meet him again in Stormveil at a church where he is one of a few NPCs that can't be killed. There is cut dialog of him reacting to a player attack, but in game, he's untouchable for some reason. I can only guess at why - perhaps since he is part of two different major storylines, the devs wanted you to be sure to hear what he has to say. After this meeting, you'll see him again at the Roundtable Hold. If you interact with him, he'll urge you to seek out Ranni, he'll tell you a bit about himself and why he's seeking her cursemark, a bit about D, and expound on some history of the Lands Between's most fateful night. Additionally, interacting with a specific bloodstain near the corpse will show you Rogier being deathblighted. Soon after entering Ranni's service, he will die.

II. Detachment and its implications Throughout his questline, Rogier maintains a mostly approachable demeanor. I say mostly, because the initial meeting is a little more standoffish and cautious, which is to be expected when infiltrating the castle of a Tarnished-butchering madman. In fact, Rogier takes a pretty sarcastic tone with us when he says

This place is bristling with Tarnished hunters, you know. They sacrifice our kind, for grafting. Not exactly a place I'd stroll into without a purpose in mind...

and a bit pessimistic/negative when he says

You can see it then, I take it? The guidance of grace. Well, enjoy it while you can.

This is primarily relevant as a counter to the assumption that he is a perfectly cheerful and perpetually friendly guy. Now, all this is not to say Rogier isn't friendly. He is, very much so. But I am of the mind that this isn’t due to any genuine, innate warmth. I do think Rogier is kind-hearted and compassionate, that he does want for friendship, that he is not secretly scheming against us. Instead I think that he is something of a people-pleaser, a liar, a bit of a manipulator, and that this is not done maliciously but as a sort of trauma response to his past.

"Dear god wraith," I hear you say, "not everyone is secretly traumatized." And I agree! But Rogier almost certainly is, and here's why. From his set:

Rogier spent his entire life behaving with utter detachment. No one noticed the anger, grief, regret, or fear that existed along with it.

Get very familiar with that description, because it's gonna be doing a lot of the heavy lifting in this post. So let's figure this out first: what is detachment and what does that have to do with trauma?

Emotional detachment refers to being disconnected or disengaged from the feelings of other people.

This can involve an inability or an unwillingness to get involved in the emotional lives of other people.

Emotional detachment can sometimes occur as a coping mechanism when people are faced with stressful or difficult situations. In other cases, it can be a symptom of a mental health condition.

Some things which may cause emotional detachment are abuse, neglect, trauma, mental illness, or certain medications. We can probably scratch out that last one, but the rest are all potential explanations. Given that Rogier's set specifies he has lived with this detachment “his entire life", I am inclined to believe that whatever adverse situation he was faced with, it began/occurred in childhood. It could have been abusive/neglectful parenting, some sort of violent/traumatic event he witnessed or was involved in as a kid, or the death of a close loved one such as a sibling or parent. Whatever it was, it was something formative that shaped who he is. How does this "utter detachment" manifest in Rogier's behavior throughout the game? After all, he seems perfectly friendly, and stays upbeat even as he's inching his way towards death! But that's just further evidence of his issues. At no point does he express any of this “anger, grief, regret, or fear” mentioned in his set, even as he’s dying in front of us. If anything, he brushes it off. You'd think someone who is slowly watching their body succumb to what the game itself refers to as a “gruesome fate” would have a bit of a stronger reaction. But no, in fact, he apologizes to us, a person he barely knows, about not being able to stand to greet us, saying:

I apologize for any offence given by my bearing, but I'm quite unable to move, you see. So. What do you need?

There’s also cut content which seems to be part of an encounter at Godwyn’s corpse wherein we meet a freshly injured Rogier. And here he has the same apologetic behavior in spite of his injuries, saying:

Well, this is a bit embarrassing, but things did not go quite as expected.

Not only does he give this astounding underreaction to having been impaled and blighted by deathroot, he doesn’t ask for any help, and is sooner moved to shame than terror over his deadly predicament. He deflects immediately to talk of his research, and informs us of how he’ll be returning to the Roundtable Hold. This is where we begin to see not just his lack of an emotional response to his own problems, but also a degree of people-pleasing behavior. It isn't enough for him to apologize for this imagined offense he's committed, he quickly turns the conversation away from himself. He doesn't doesn't seek out help, or even a little companionship in spite of the absolute horror he's been afflicted with. No, he instead asks after our needs, and continues to offer us lessons in sorcery and history.

The lack of reaction to whatever miseries befall him is seen throughout the rest of our interactions with him. The closest he gets to lamenting his fate is to warn us of Godwyn's corpse:

And...that thing is to blame for the shape I'm in now... I urge the utmost caution. Don't disturb the corpse more than necessary...

And that’s not what he starts off with when we ask him about the corpse, which you would think someone would do when having been injected with death by it. No, he delves into a history lecture instead, once again redirecting from the personal/emotional to the abstract/intellectual. His dialog is almost entirely comprised of his scholarly endeavors, which he has no issues discussing with us. We learn precious, precious little about Rogier himself, but those little bits which slip through paint a less than happy picture.

Take for instance the line, “I once wished to become a scholar.” He mentions spending hours in the archives doing research. What makes him think he isn’t one already? What made him give up on that goal, or stood between him and achieving it when he has shown such tenacity in the pursuit of answers? Remember the cut dialog mentioned in the recap, which would have played if he were slain by the Tarnished? He says on his death:

This is unfortunate. Couldn’t change a thing…

A bit of a reserved response to being murdered if you ask me! Instead of threats or rage, he laments his own inability to change anything, betraying a sense of dissatisfaction with himself. Then of course there is his split with D, who refers to him as “piteous”, and Fia’s mentioning of Rogier weeping when in bed with her. I wish I could say more on this, but essentially everything else Rogier says is about his research, not himself.

These things come together to form a picture of a person who may think very little of themselves. I’d even go so far as to call it self-loathing. We have the anger, grief, regret, and fear mentioned by his set, his disinterest in his own emotional state, his readiness to be of service to others, his desire to be pleasing rather than himself(he’d rather lie to D than upset him). We have his detachment, a coping mechanism indicative of some early trauma. And we have one of a few instances of naked emotion from him in his reaction to being killed by the player. It is not of anger at being betrayed by one of his own kind, it’s not fear or sadness for his own end. It’s frustration, it’s agitation, it’s disappointment, and it is directed entirely at himself for being unable to make a difference. Even if we don’t want to call it self-loathing, these are hardly the signs of a well-adjusted person. Those are hard to come by in The Lands Between, after all.

III. Speculation on the past

So what made Rogier this way? We’re unlikely to ever know, but I’ll throw out my two cents. Let’s look at Rogier’s gear. It’s described as being “graced with an intricate, aristocratic decoration”. His rapier bears a similar description, stating it is “of superior quality, featuring intricate ornamentation”. Taken together, we can reasonably assume that Rogier doesn’t come from an impoverished background. He wears fine clothes, wields a fancy sword, and does not appear to have the backing of any particular faction to finance or supply this. It’s likely Rogier comes from either an aristocratic, or even noble, background. The desire to pursue scholarship, rather than any mention of a life of menial labor, also points in this direction, as does his well-spoken and polite behavior, and his decorum even in the face of his own death.

Which group in the game is comprised of aristocratic sorcerers? The Carians. How does the game commonly indicate associations with certain clans among characters? By use of the first initial in a character’s name. All of Marika’s and Godfrey’s descendants begin with the letters ‘M’ or ‘G’. And Rennala’s with the letter ‘R’. We see this with other NPCs we meet, like Gostoc, Millicent, and Rya, who are related to Godrick, Malenia, and Rykard. This is not to say I think Rogier is directly related to Rennala or her children, considering he's Tarnished and these other 3 NPCs aren't. More that, it is not wholly unfounded to think he is in some way connected with Carians. There are further connections of note, such as his use of Carian sorcery. The only NPCs to employ this class of sorceries are all affiliated with the group somehow – Seluvis and Miriel can both sell us Carian spells by default, while Thops and Sellen only sell glintstone sorceries(thanks to elden_things for pointing this out to me!!). And the most mysterious connection is that of the timing of his slumber and subsequent death, which align closely with Ranni’s own slumber and the defeat of Radahn. The fate of Carians is linked to the stars, and with Radahn’s hold over them surrendered, their fates can no longer be forestalled.

Of course, he makes no mention of any such affiliations, but he mentions very little about himself at all. What we know is that he holds regrets and anger about something, that he is likely of an aristocratic background from a people who practice sorcery, and that he wields a thrusting sword requiring dexterity to wield. Why’s that last thing suddenly relevant? Because all of these together sound similar to the description of the prisoner starting class.

A prisoner bound in an iron mask. Studied in glintstone sorcery, having lived among the elite prior to sentencing.

Some things very suddenly begin to make more sense to me. Maybe Rogier holds regrets over a crime he’s committed, or even one he did not commit but was accused and sentenced for all the same, the consequences of some powerplay among the elite looking to eliminate him from the playing field for whatever reason. Maybe he’s angry over this humiliation, maybe he grieves this loss of his freedom. And if it is a Carian society that did this to him, maybe he’d hold a resentment towards them, a resentment shared by a sect of Raya Lucarian knights symbolized in the form of a feather. Sort of like the one Rogier wears in his hat. Beyond this, he uses the Scholar’s Armament ash of war, an art taught to Cuckoo Knights. “Our enemy is none other than Caria itself,” says the Cuckoo Greatshield item description. Maybe there is room for the argument that Rogier would agree with them. But again, this is all admittedly speculation on my part.

Let’s take a further look at Rogier’s design while we’re on the subject, because it too relates back to the prisoner association in some ways.

(thanks again to elden_things for these images)

On first glance, we’re bedazzled with glintstone and golden hues, the colors so bright and vibrant, especially in comparison with so many other more sedate color palettes seen on many NPCs. But taken as a whole, both color and form, I can’t help but think of the phrase “bird in a gilded cage”. The thing that jumps out to me about his design is the theme of restraint. His costume is full of straps, ropes, chains, items which evoke notions of bondage and imprisonment. He is wrapped from head to toe in clothing, not even his hair left free, cuffed by gold at the ankles, cuffed by frills at the wrist, neck tangled in chains(the long end of the necklace down his back is even reminiscent of a leash), arms lined with glintstone-studded straps, the opulence of nobility becoming symbolic of confinement. It’s noteworthy to me that Rogier aligns so very well with the prisoner class while also sporting clothing that easily reminds us of all the ways a person can be bound.

The color gold in game is very much tied in with the Order, with Marika and the Greater Will. While Rogier is often characterized as someone who opposes the Golden Order due to his split with Darian, his dialog would betray otherwise, something I delve into in this post. In short, he recognizes the flaws and defects of the Order, but actually expresses admiration for its ability to adapt to resolve them. This ability to adapt is in direct contrast to Rennala’s inability to do so – when met with abrupt and devastating change, she breaks, and doesn’t recover. This is another point in favor of Rogier possibly holding some frustrations with Carians. The Order is changeable, can alter itself to meet the needs of the times they live in. Caria simply wilts.

Seeing a glintstone sorcerer, one wearing the hat of a heretic no less, bear the colors of the Order is more than a little interesting in a game where people’s allegiances are generally pretty clear cut. The delightfully detailed Elden Ring colory theory video by hawkshaw speaks of blue as the color of intellect and mind, gold as faith and order. Rogier sports both, reminding me again of Caria, specifically the joining of the Moon and the Erdtree, Rennala and Radagon’s union. Of course, if we hold to the belief that Rogier is related to Carians, there’s another way in which he may remind us of this union between the Order and the Moon, and that is in his time spent with D, Hunter of the Dead.

IV. D and Rogier – “Opposites attract.”

Aside from his history lessons on Ranni and Godwyn, Rogier doesn’t really have a lot to say about anyone else, even himself. In spite of his interactions and shared interests with Fia, the only other person we hear him talk about is D. An old friend, Rogier says with a sort of fondness or melancholy. As with Fia, Rogier bonded with D over an interest in death, and for some unspecified length of time in the past, the two traveled the lands together. Eventually, Rogier’s desire to save Those Who Live in Death became too much of an issue for D, and the pair split.

Theirs is an interesting relationship, whether you want it platonic or otherwise. They’re opposites in a lot of ways. Impulse vs control, pity vs scorn, heretic vs devotee, warm vs cool, elegance vs brutality, mind vs faith, the list kind of goes on, but you see the point. Even after their falling out, the two can get along without acrimony. D tells Rogier about seeing the sign of the centipede in Summonwater. He helps us defeat the Black Knife Assassin in the Death-touched Catacombs, thus making it possible for Rogier to study the knifeprint. Rogier doesn’t speak of D with resentment, or anger, or even much distaste (his tone strays towards sarcasm again when mentioning D’s opinions on TWLID, “these defiled fiends”, but that’s about it). Rogier’s lines about D are generally his most emotional and most personal, and given how very little we get to know about Rogier otherwise, we can assume that the friendship meant a great deal to him.

Between the pair, he’s clearly the more composed about the split. While D freely expresses his disappointments in Rogier, Rogier is more wistful and collected, and does a lot less mudslinging than D. He is the less emotional of the two, however, that’s just par for the course for him. He’s used to keeping things close to the chest, as this is basically what emotional detachment does to you. Emotions aren’t easily expressed or handled, and it becomes simpler to separate oneself from them rather than experience them. And any falling out, whether between friends or lovers, is bound to be emotionally challenging even for someone without such issues.

V. Fia and Rogier – “Birds of a feather...”

There is someone Rogier eventually became comfortable expressing emotions around, even if it’s curious he never mentions her. Fia and Rogier may have a lot in common. Most obvious being their interest in Those Who Live in Death and the history of the night that gave rise to them. But there could be other things, too. Fia's room is full of books, and we know Rogier is a scholar at heart. The two could both be avid readers. If we accept the notion of Rogier as prisoner, he and Fia could bond over what it means to be without freedom and choice. Fia is hounded from her home, and it would seem she may have at some point resented the fact that she would not be allowed to decide which noble she’d be reviving.

Whatever the case, it’s clear Fia and Rogier became close at some point before his death as she tells us how he speaks of the Night of Black Knives while in bed with her, and that this discussion even moved him to tears. This strong reaction from him is especially noteworthy given his lack of emotional response in other, more appropriate areas, such as the knowledge of his own impending death. Is it sadness for Godwyn that has him in tears? Grief for how the Shattering ruined so much for so many? Could it be that in discussing these things with Fia he is also thinking of everything he won’t be able to achieve? Or could it be that he is in some sense overwhelmed not by his grim fate but by her affection, her friendship and care? People with emotional detachment issues can often have immense difficulties making or keeping friends, but here is Fia, whose entire schtick is to offer the utmost selfless care and comfort for others. Wouldn’t that be a little overwhelming to someone unused to that, someone whose life was apparently full of anger and regret, marked by some lasting trauma that’s followed him his whole life and caused him to hold others at arms' length?

Or it could be that he knows all too well another way in which Fia’s just like him, and the misery of knowing her warmth might be false just cut a little deeper than he could handle in a moment so vulnerable as this.

VI. Deceit as defense

It’s odd to me that this is a point of contention among Elden Ring fans, but Fia is, well, kind of a liar by omission. Manipulative, even. And I think Rogier is too. Well, I don’t think, I know. I’ve referenced it multiple times, but his exact words are

I can tell a good lie when I need to.

The context is him desiring to avoid angering D. I’ve mentioned before Rogier coming off as a people-pleaser, this being one of the reasons, as well as the apologetic tone he often takes when speaking with us. Others involve the assumption that he is of aristocratic origins. Politics are a game of rhetoric, and Rogier would’ve been taught to play it. That means being comfortable with lies and knowing how to tell them, or being able to spin the truth to sell your own desires to people who may not share in them. Beyond this, there is his detachment, in which he does his utmost to keep his emotional state to himself. This requires lying, or rather, concealing. Something I’d like to clarify about lies and liars is that we have a tendency to assume this is a malicious trait. I don’t think Rogier acts with malicious intentions at all. I think it is habit, a survival mechanism necessitated by whatever traumatic past he has experienced and/or required for navigating the aristocracy. For the latter especially, the ability to lie and manipulate others would be an endlessly useful tool.

Again, I want to stress that when I speak of Rogier as liar and manipulator, I don’t think it’s something he does to be cruel. He wants something of us, but given his personal issues, he may realize he’s not the best at making friends with others. He may also be hesitant to be indebted to another. Some of his cut dreambrew quest dialog hints at some intense pride on his part. If we were to offer him the dreambrew after he was blighted, he responds with:

No thank you, I don’t need your pity. ...Sorry. You were only trying to be nice. It would be my pleasure to take it.

The immediate adjustment of his tone is an interesting one. From resentful and irritated to perfectly gracious and friendly at the drop of a hat. For someone who can show compassion to some of the most wretched creatures in the Lands Between, who is happy to befriend someone seen as reviled and accursed, to lay with a woman some think of as vulgar, he sure isn’t comfortable with the idea of someone showing that compassion to him. If he gets this irritated by being offered a drink after a (near?)death experience, how would he really handle someone offering to put their life on the line for him?

So he manipulates, because this is far easier for someone(who may be) coming from a background where this is par for the course in how you connect with others. Now we aren’t simply doing him a favor, we’ve been convinced his goal is ours, too. He starts by asking for our help. But notice how each time we go back to Rogier with a little more info, he couches each new and more dangerous request in praise and compliments? We’re superb fighters, we’re trustworthy, we're capable, we’re the only ones who can do this. Rogier knows what he’s asking us to do is risky, and says as much. But he also knows how to flatter, how to shape the conversation to his needs. This isn’t just his quest anymore, it’s ours. This isn’t some favor done out of pity for a dying man, no. He’s convinced you that you want to do this too! Maybe it’s not just us he’s manipulating, but himself, too.

This isn’t to say that Rogier doesn’t care about us, that he’s callous or heartless or doesn’t want to be our friend. I think, at this point, above all else his sights are on his goal. He knows his time is running out, and he may realize he won’t be able to see this through to the end no matter how badly he wishes it were otherwise. I think Fia speaks truly when she says Rogier seemed elated by us helping him. But he also knows how near his death is, and that no matter what he or the player do, there is no future for him.

I know the manipulation angle is a hard sell. “An NPC asking you to help him isn’t manipulation,” I’ve seen people say, and I get it. But in the greater context of Rogier’s character, I think there is plenty of reason to believe he could be inclined towards such behavior, that he is someone far more focused on his goal than building friendships in a life reaching its end, and, knowing well how near he is to death, is desperate to see it through. Plenty of NPCs ask things of me, and I wouldn’t consider them manipulative. But none of them tell me point blank they’re fine with lying to others, either. :)

VII. Conclusion

We don’t get a lot of backstory on the NPCs of Elden Ring. There are breadcrumbs and tiny clues, but so often these little tidbits are implications rather than direct statements. They are open-ended, preserving a sense of intrigue and mystery that invites us to look deeper and do a little puzzle solving. That being said, it’s hard to make any definitive statements about who any of these characters are and what they’re really like. Characters like Rogier make our investigations all the more challenging when they give us reason to believe that they’re practiced in concealment and lies. When do we know what to take what they say at face value? When do we know to take it with a grain of salt? But that’s also part of what makes him so interesting to me. There’s so much potential in his story, and such a variety of possible interpretations. Mine is only one of them, and if you’ve gotten to the end of this, I’d be thrilled to hear yours too!

[wifiwuxians]

Hear me out... Tokyo Mew Mew AU for the Yi City Fam

STOPPP I LITERALLY HAVE A TOKYO MEW MEW AU FOR LIKE A BUNCH OF CHARACTERS AND THEY'RE IN IT LOL BUT THIS NEEDS SOME REWORKING UH

first off, the cast. XY is Kisshu. he has to be. not because of any choice opinions on how to treat a lady or anything but because they're both the little shit who has given me gender envy. AQ is Pudding because look at them. enough said. also ever since i was a kid i was obsessed with the idea of Kisshu and Pudding having a sibling banter bond and i was robbed. i suppose XXC would be the obvious protagonist so Ichigo? I only say this bc I really REALLY WANT SL TO BE DEEP BLUE LMAOOO THAT HAIR!!!!!!! SL is in his villain era now

That aside, obviously it's not all 1:1. I still want to make AQ a monkey girl because that's too cute, but she fights with a staff! The cafe, which in this would be run by XXC himself (inherited it and the research from BSSR?) is less cutesy because they don't need to lure in teenage girls, but it's still a cozy and traditional place where you can rent out hanfu for the day or something adorable like that. Still 100% a front for a secret lab though. XXC's animal would be a great white heron, he'd get majestic wings and a flowy outfit that would still allow him to fight (and fly)! Since it's sort of lame to just have 2 animal people I sort of want SL to also be an animal person (a human-alien hybrid thing who is now also an animal person... save some for the rest of us), so he'd be a leopard >:) XY is just a cute lil alien showing his midriff and fucking around and waiting for his Great Leader to wake the fuck up so everyone can go home and he can kill every human on earth

XY's reason for hating humans, aside from the fact they stole his homeland and poisoned it, is that he was captured as an infant on a recon mission and terribly experimented on. that same recon mission resulted in the death of BSSR and SL's adoptive parents, who were working with her on her alien research. however, they were not the ones to cut this poor boy open, but it doesn't matter. All Scientists Must Die and all humans too.

XXC took AQ off the streets where she was performing for cash and had been doing so for years, he's trying to get her paperwork in order so she can go to school properly. she has no family save for him. they met on a rainy day, where XXC got in an accident trying to prevent AQ from suffering the same fate. she took him to the hospital and stayed by his side and they've been inseparable ever since. XXC never intended for her to get infused with animal DNA, as he wanted this to be a solo thing (it's XXC, he's self sacrificial to a fault), but the machine malfunctioned and she got caught in the blast. she's fine with this, as she would do anything to make XXC happy, even if she hates dealing with customers at the cafe and prefers to be the bookkeeper.

SL was also caught in the blast, as he was visiting the cafe to try and return a book to XXC. they both take the same environmentalism course at uni!! SL is unaware of his adoptive parents' work (until the story conveniently reveals it to him) and only knows they were researching the environment, so he's very studious and dedicated, serious and passionate, so their memory can live on and he can make them proud. but also he just loves nature. he's also unaware of the Darkness Inside Him though he has scary dreams sometimes. XXC is at first horrified to get him involved, but soon loves having him by his side; they train together and uncover more of their parents' research while fighting big weird aliens. XXC has been so alone ever since his mother's passing, putting on a brave face for everyone and trying to keep his spirits high, but AQ and SL becoming important parts of his life has been a balm for his soul. but then XY is there outside his window at 3 AM demanding they throw knives at each other until someone dies or some shit so his studies are falling behind a little bit lmao

as a fun extra, in the original massive AU with a bunch of non Yi City characters, XY was split into two (as i tend to do) and one was Kisshu and the other was Ichigo. think of XY in fun lil strawberry shorts and with the whole cat getup. it was great

SORRY THIS IS SO RAMBLY LMAO I LOVE TMM SM AHHH

[laurence-does-art]

Hi there! Haven't posted in a bit, I've been-

CW: Major character death, Nightmares

"You're the best thing that's come from my wretched existence." Narinder's voice wavered as Lamb kept their hands pressed to his side. No ichor dripped past their dark fingers, only red blood. Mortal blood. "I couldn't have ever hoped that you'd surpass me as the god of death, but I'm sure you will."

"Shut up. Narinder you don't get to say things like that when-" A hand brushed against Lamb's cheek and something inside of them shattered. "Please. Please you can't just die. You've managed to make it through everything else, why now? Why when everything is finally going right for us."

Lamb bowed their head, resting it against the black cat's chest. They took little comfort in the uneven rise and fall. It was weaker than it should've been, ever had been, a signal that Narinder's time was coming to a close. Now red eyes squeezed themselves shut. No. Narinder wouldn't die here. They'd find some way to bring him back, even if he'd sworn that the resurrection ritual wouldn't work, Lamb would try. They had to try.

"Death is not fair, Lamb, you know this well by now. It need not make sense. Much like mortal dreams, it's confusing, sometimes it's terrifying, and others it's a comfort, but it always comes to an end." Narinder let out a rattling laugh, hand tangling itself into the woolly head resting on him. "But gods don't dream, Lamb. They have visions of what is to come, the future that they're being led to. And just like sheep to the slaughter, they let these prophecies push them, force them right towards the outcome they want least to happen. Five becomes four, becomes three, becomes two, becomes one, becomes nothing."

The hand laying on the back of their head suddenly yanked Lamb up. Forced to stare as three fully golden eyes gazed down at them. The sheep was frozen.

"Yet sacrificial beast, take heed; for a Crown cannot sit upon two brows."

Narinder leaned forward, ignoring the giant gash in his side as if it wasn't there, and smiled oh so sweetly at Lamb. Something burned in the back of their throat as his face remained calm.

"Oh, you damned Lamb, ascended to Godhood in my place. I've been defeated yet my powers still remain. Between us they must choose their final resting place. Flowing from me into you is the natural course of things set in motion. You cannot undo what you've done. All that you can do is accept what fate has decided, and then, maybe a different outcome will be shown."

When Lamb had started to cry, they didn't know. One second they were holding Narinder's side, then the next, they were alone. The rushing sound of wind twisting around them was their only company as the image of Darkwood wavered, melting away to reveal the Gateway. Only this Gateway was different. Instead of the large black feline shackled, kneeling with his guardians standing nearby, there was a white one instead. The chains and crosses and piles of remains seemed like they hadn't changed, but the person stuck in this jail had. Narinder's blood still stained their fingers.

Lamb went to take a hesitant step off of the stone they were standing on. There shouldn't be anyone left in the Gateway, not after Lamb had freed Narinder and resurrected Aym and Baal. Yet there was a white cat, hunched over, cradling something in their palms. As soon as their hoof touched the cool sand, the deity's head snapped to look at them with a look Lamb couldn't figure out. Not when they were sent hurdling from the moment, everything fading to black, the words that the other yelled nothing more than a muffled shout in their ears.

"My Lamb! It's almost time for the morning sermon! Are you almost ready? You haven't eaten yet either so I brought you some berry porridge if you're hungry." A familiar voice echoed in the otherwise empty temple. Martin. The morning sermon. How long had they slept for?

How could all of that just be a dream?

[brumeraven]

🪫: On Fates || chronic illness, decay, exhaustion, depression, fatigue, helplessness, self-harm, the mirror

"Have a nice day-oh..." She trailed off mid-platitude, blinking and looking away as she noticed my Fate. I knew that's what it was; I'd grown accustomed to the sudden loss of eye contact. One quick saccade, realization, revulsion, and finally embarrassment.

For the first time, I allowed myself to become aware of the other figure, standing beside and a bit behind her, like an over-controlling manager.

Old. Tired, yes, but at peace, nothing at all like the vivacious youth she'd once been.

Not a bad way to go.

No one knows where Fates came from, or at the very least if someone does, they're not telling. Maybe they sprung from our collective subconscious. Maybe there was a data breach at the Akashic records. Maybe it was just divine revelation.

Or maybe a Witch decided once and for all that She was tired of explaining Herself, tired of the rest of us not seeing the world through Her eyes.

All I know is that one day, they were suddenly there, just beside and a little behind each of us.

Didn't take long to figure out what they meant.

Even if there'd been the possibility for doubt, well, a sizable majority of that first bunch showed all the hallmarks of a myriad novel and varied means of suicide.

And then all of them came true.

Once people came face to face with an inerrant, tangible proof of their own mortality, well, they just gave up. Taking matters into your own hands was a means of control, of reclaiming agency, snatching back some false sense of free will from the jaws of predestination.

It was paradoxical, come to think of it, all wrapped up in retrocausality. None of them ever saw any other death but by their own choice. Perhaps it was just the finality of it all, but it hardly seems as if that could have driven any to it.

And yet...

It was a matter of proof incontrovertible that one just wasn't strong enough to survive in a world devoid of make-believe, one in which it seemed impossible to forget.

They were wrong. The human capacity for self-delusion and willful blindness should never be underestimated.

I nodded politely to the girl and wandered out of the shop to the street. Those who survived adapted quickly.

It became gauche to even notice another's Fate, much less comment on it, and how could one acknowledge one's own without tacitly, indirectly doing the same to others?

People just ignored them.

If your Fate was to die fast and young, what was there but to squeeze in every last drop of life in the interim?

And if instead one was to die after a long life, why bother thinking of the future? Damn the consequences; apparently they wouldn't matter.

And so it was that, after a short period of adaptation, society all but returned to normal.

All but us, the afflicted.

I peered furtively at passersby, taking in the myriad endings their Fates foretold.

Cancer.

Heart disease.

An overdose.

Vehicle accident.

The usual fare.

For them, death was a state, the finality of an outcome so unlike one's current state as to be near impossible to consider. And as such of no concern to them.

For some small number of us, though, death was a process. Dying, dying was hard. And living in spite of it harder still.

I looked to my side, forcing myself to see what others refused to, what I'd seen every single day since that first.

I saw myself, as I was.

My own life, as I lived it.

All the suffering and resentment I lived with, day after day after day.

Only, it wasn't the same at all.

Decades older, she was nevertheless a mirror of me, a cruel reflection in which every ounce of pain and frustration and resentment had been magnified, every bit of exhaustion redoubled.

Decrepit and decaying, I saw the truth of my future every single day.

Decline.

Despair.

Every time I looked at her, I saw that I would only worsen.

Every time I looked at her, I saw that, soon enough, my bad days would be good ones, and the bad to come worse still.

Every time I looked at her, I knew I would go on existing anyways, spared even the mercy of death.

No wonder then that I walked alone in a bubble of averted eyes down these crowded streets.

With time, they'd all found it easy enough to know that they'd die.

How much crueler a fate to know that you'd never be allowed to live.

~🪫

[sleeplessdreamer123]

Fanfic Idea! (ABO Lucemond, part 1.5 of Lucerys sharing Aemma's fate, after his poisoning and death of child)

Part 1

Lucerys knows it was stupid of him, but he was desperate to keep his girls safe, and his last pregnancy scarred him, he almost died. His child died. They were truly out to get rid of him, replace him with a puppet. If they succeed, then he knows without a doubt in his mind that they would hurt his girls as well, either making them a bargaining tool, or, like Alicent did to his mother, ruin their home.

So he called for Alys, one of his daughter's nursemaids. She was rumored to be a Strong bastard, just as he was, but unlike him, Alys' fate as a bastard was cemented in her name. She was loyal to him, has taken great care of his girls, showed them love and care from what he saw everytime he enters their room, and she, despite looking quite young, has long past the point of being able to get pregnant, not that people would know.

So he gave her a dress that hugged her body well, the way he knows Aemond would like. He fixed her hair the way he did with his own when it was still long, gave her oils that smelled like him, and sent her to his husband's room. He closed his eyes and wept, but it was for the best. If he does die, and Aemond does marry, he'd rather he chooses who his successor would be.

He did not expect Alys to return so soon, only informing him that Aemond rejected her, before returning the dress and going back to his girls' rooms to check up on them. Aemond didn't remove her, like he did the others who tried to do the same. The girls love her too much, and Aemond always had a soft spot for them, regardless of what other say.

Lucerys thinks that it was because Alys was a bastard with not a drop of Valyrian blood. It was a hasty plot, he supposes, the people who supported his family would be greatly angered if he did marry someone who isn't part of the Blacks. So he sent for Rhaena.

She was hesitant, but Lucerys begged her. If anyone could care for his children and ensure their lives if he ever does die, it would be her. It could be that she saw the great desperation in his face, so she agreed. And he sent her to his husband's room.

He didn't expect his husband to enter his room in the middle of the night, rage in his eyes.

"In my years of living, this is the first time I have ever heard of an omega pushing another woman in his husband's bed."

He didn't deny it. Rhaena must have told him, or Aemond must have pieced it out himself. His husband isn't foolish, and he won't make it out so his husband would believe he sees him that way. He sat up from his bed and looked at him.

"We both know your council won't stop. They won't be happy unless you throw me away for another wife. That, or they would wait for my death, or guarantee it. At least with this route, I'd guarantee the life of my girls."

Aemond's anger reached new heights, his scent stronger, engulfing the room as he tries to keep his voice calm and leveled.

"But to ask me to go to another while you still live? No, to actually send them in my room at night? Did you forget our promise? The oath we both took when he married? Or do you wish me to be the villain in this play you decide to orchestrate? Do you wish the people would hate me? That our daughters would see me as a traitor? Is this your revenge against me?"

Lucerys winced a little. True, he hasn't thought of how the world, or even his girls would see his husband if he does decide to entertain another whilst he lived after being poisoned. In his defence, however, he was focused more on raising his daughters' chances of survival. He wouldn't wish for his daughters to hate Aemond, however. He was a perfect father to them and he'd never wish for them to hate Aemond.

"No. Never that. But they're already sending prospective brides to you. Don't look at me like that, we both know there can't be that many girls and omegas who gets lost and somehow entered your room. Especially with their Houses mostly aligned to your grandfather's council. Who knows if you might actually fall for one-"

"After all these years, do you think so little of me? That I would betray our oath? That I would even look at anyone else when you-"

He stopped, swallowing whatever words he was about to say. He turned around and walk towards the door. He stopped, and turned to Lucerys.

"The next girl you or anyone else will try to send to my bed will lose their life by my sword. I honor my oaths, Lucerys. As long as you breathe, as long as your heart beats, I will not betray our marriage."

He left the room, and Lucerys never sent another girl again.