#new title: the burial

[thelegendarypusheen-art]

transgender blues

[mourningsbane]

Tanglefern be honest and admit wrongdoings challenge. Over here like 'I don't know why the stars won't take you' my bud you LEFT HER IN SOME RANDOM HOLE IN THE GROUND WITHOUT HER KITS. You LET that happen. Absolutely NO respect. You should be telling the clan. Begging Honeyspring for forgiveness. Respecting her body and giving her a proper burial with her kits. Find a new healer and train them to replace you, as you clearly don't deserve the title. I hope the stars turn you away when your time comes.

"It was too late. Too much time had passed, I couldn't tell them. They'd all hate me, I—"

Tanglefern's jaw works further, but no sound comes out. For a moment, all is silent, until a quiet mantra of "I can't, I can't, I can't" escapes from under his breath.

Somewhere, deep under the ground, bones creak.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Oct 21st

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1. Hiii first of all i just wanted to thank you for being able to find the fic i was looking for last time :)) im looking for this fic that i cant find anywhere it was a modern au on ao3 where wangxian dated in hs or college but lqr forced lwj to break up with wwx (through txt if i remember right) but wwx didnt know that lwj was forced so when they meet years later and lwj is working for the lan company they hire wwx and the wens to work on the cybersecurity and wwx is rlly angry while lwj is just pining. TIA!! @draconislyra

FOUND? Tempo Rubato by Spodumene (E, 108k, wangxian, modern, angst w/ happy ending, romance, persuasion au, separations, pining, miscommunication, depression, self-harm, reconciliation, smut)

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2. theres this fic and i forgot the title, but its where jin ling has been wearing wwx's protective bracelet since he was a baby and assumed/thought his mom gave it to him and the bracelet is rlly effective! but in guanyin temple, su she(?) broke it but wwx fixes it and strings the bracelet back together

FOUND! a symbol to remind you that there's more to see by paperminds (T, 9k, JC & JL & WWX, canon-compliant(ish), post-canon(ish), Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Mild/Moderate Angst, angst with happy ending, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Twin Idiots, Reconciliation)

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3. Hi! I'm looking for a specific fan fiction i remember that both wwx and lwj has lived a long and happy life and now they think it's time for them to leave the world lsz is very upset and doesn't want to let his parents go they go upto a field to fall asleep or smth, there was also wwx telling lwj how tired he is, I've been dying to find this one

FOUND? The Sea Calls Us Home. by selfptrts (T, 3k, WangXian, ZhuiLing, Suicide, Hurt No Comfort, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, wangxian are married and have a son, xicheng if you squint hard enough, Mentions of Canonical Character Death, Assisted Suicide, References to Supernatural (TV), References to Canon, Found Family, Grief/Mourning, Immortality)

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4. Hello! I'm in desperate need of help. I'm trying to find this one fic where NMJ gave WWX Baxia since he couldn't wield her anymore. I remember a scene where he was struggling with her but then JC(?) told him he was still using sword forms so he needed to find a different way. Thank you so much in advance!!!

FOUND? Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It) WWX definitely ends up weilding Baxia in Lynchpin, and there's a scene about WWX creating a new Sabre sword style.

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5. Hii, I'm looking for two wangxian fics that I unfortunately don't remember much about. A) The first one was one where the war was solved and WWX joined DafanWen, I remember that Dafan's robes were pink/peach and I think DafanWen became a medical sub-clan of Lan.

B) The second one was a post canon where WWX basically adapted to life in Cloud Recess. He learned to knit and I think the fic had a tag that had to do something like "something about gender roles". @canisirio

5A)

FOUND? 💖 Light Source by abCEE (M, 31k, wangxian, not Jiang friendly, no golden core transfer, fall of the jiang sect, happy ending)

5B)

FOUND? Reeds in the Wind by merakily (T, 26k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Yunmeng bros Reconciliation, Rabbit Therapy, Sewing Therapy, PTSD, Emotional Baggage, Hurt/Comfort, JC is Bad at Feelings, JC Needs a Hug) I feel like it's not the right fic but it does have wwx doing embroidery

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6. hi this is for fic finder!

i think this is starts when wwx is still in the burial mounds with the wens and he's called? because lwj is sick like literally in bed, unconscious with fever sorta sick. I think it turned out to be a curse or smth related to his golden core!

also another fic, also these two fics coild be the same so I'm not sure

it could've been related to the first request, I kind of remember wwx sacrificing or getting harmed to save lwj and then all the Lan elders kind of give wwx a new core in the caves in cloud recesses

this is really messy, I'm just trying to say that I remember these 2 points and they could be in 1 fic or 2 different fics

thank you sm @bunnycoffeeumcat

FOUND! Weep You No More, Sad Fountains by athena_crikey (T, 59k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & JGY, Canon Divergence, Fix-it fic, Whump, Curses, Fever, Delirium, Stabbing, Loneliness, Confessions, LWJ’s emotional repression, WWX giving everything as always, LXC realising sympathy is not support, LQR Being an Asshole) for the first point but not the second so I guess this is 6a?

FOUND? 🧡 decay by antebunny (G, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, the fluffiest ending, Hurt/Comfort) Are they maybe thinking of decay by antebunny? I know the ending of the fic has a similar scene to what they were describing

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7. Hi. I am looking for a fic where Baoshan Sanren knows about Wei Wuxian’s fate but cannot directly interfere. Instead she raises Mo Xuanyu as a cultivator and Talisman Master who helps Madam Jin keep Jin Ling safe in Lanling Jin before leaving for the Imperial Exams. Before he can reach, he is assassinated by Jin Guangyao. Wei Wuxian then wakes up in the body and decides to write the exams, becoming a high ranking minister. The emperor takes an interest in the cultivation world a few years later.

FOUND? Awakening: Return of the Patriarch - Another Way by SplitGirl28 (M, 35k, WIP, Transmigration, Related to Jin Guangslut again, Nobody has access to WWX's notes, Experimentation Underway, Established SongXiao, A-Qing Lives)

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8. Hi! I'm looking for this fic where wwx and lwj are thrown into an arranged marriage together, and don't know each other. Wwx is generally happy and excited, and lwj sees this and immediately hates him, bcoz he wanted a calm, quiet spouse to live with. The whole thing is orchestrated by Madam Yu, who basically abandons wwx at cloud recesses bcoz she figures he would be miserable here. Lwj doesn't like him to or try to understand him, so wwx slowly gets more and more depressed and suicidal, kind of as a parallel to Madam lan. I think he tries teaching for a while, and he's very good at it, but the elders step in and claim he's corrupting the children, so that's that. He finds the yin iron, and plans to destroy it worth a circle that will also take him out along with it, but before he can go through with the plan lwj realises how depressed he is and starts making an effort to help him. The fic ends with lwj offering to run away from cloud recesses with him, and wwx telling him no, he doesn't want to be some sort of shameful indulgence, if lwj really wants him he'll stay and fight with the elders on his behalf @arsonistbydaylibrarianbynight

FOUND? Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gusu Lan Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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9. Hi! For the next Fic Finder, I’ve been trying to find a fic where LWJ leaves the CR to go help WWX in the Burial Mounds. It kind of starts of with LWJ and WWX confrontation after WWX rescues the Wens. There’s a sequence where LWJ is gathering stuff to take to the Burial Mounds. Then in later chapters it’s LXC, LQR, and a couple of Lan Elders going to Yiling to try and bring LWJ back to the CR. They find him in Yiling, selling produce, only to discover that LWJ is living a happy life with WWX and is no longer following Gusu Lan’s rules as he lets a bunch of kids decorate his hair. Sorry this is super long. I can remember what happens in the fic, but for the life of me I can’t remember the title. Thanks a bunch!

FOUND!🔒Unpack Your Heart by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (T, 22k, wangxian, Romance, Everybody Lives, Canon Divergence, LWJ Has Feelings, Protective LWJ, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family, Wangxian in Love, YLLZ WWX, Lan Clan Elders are Assholes, Minor Transgender Character, Qiongqi Path Divergence, LWJ loves his bunnies)

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10. hi - i’m looking for a f/f wangxian fic. lwj and wwx start as friends but there’s obvious sexual tension (wwx still thinks she’s straight, and keeps “baiting” lwj). lwj lives near her mom, and she bikes to visit her with wei ying. there’s a scene where wwx is wearing novelty panties with a weed leaf on it? and wwx turns out to have nipple piercings which makes lwj go insane? eventually wwx is like “i may not be a woman but you’re a lesbian so you can’t love me.” and lwj is like. nah. i love you?

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11. Hi! This is for fic finder. I honestly dont remember if it was a fanfic from this fandom or a chinese bl novel i red years ago. It didnt help that i dont remember much of the story. I will call them mc and ml (if it was a fanfic, wwx is the mc). They are an actor. The mc got a big role and there are a sex scene in the film with the ml. And then the mc catch a feeling to the ml. The plot of the movie they shoot is where the mc always running away. The movie plot kinda resobate with the mc feeleng. And the writting style is tell a twi stoey. The movie plot and the fic. Long story short, the mc get kidnapped. I dont remember if its trully happen or the movies's plot but i think the mc was genuinely kidnapped. The kidnapping is meticulous that make people tell the ml to brace himself for the worst case scenario. The ml helped to find the mc. In the end, the mc is found but in the bad shape. Near the end of the story, they are in shooting where the plot is the ml found the mc. They hugged and the staff say that it feels genuine.

Im 80% sure its a wangxian fic. I read that around 3-4 years ago. Thanks! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

Hi im #11 in recent fic finder. I dont know if it will help but it involves a cottage (where wwx is held when he is kidnapped), a river (i think their investigation lead to the river and found a red scraf), a red scraf (i think wwx knit it? I dont remember but it his). Its not outsider pov and not a twitter fic (i dont know what is called). I think the film they play is a porn one? (Not sure about this part). Thanks!

NOT FOUND! call me, beep me by myung (T, 39k, wangxian, modern, social media, actors au, celebrities, chatting & texting)

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12. fic finder: does anyone remember this one fic where lan qiren was looking for a way to get wwx a new core and he calls for people to make spiritual donations or something? wwx didnt think anyone would volunteer but when he looked there had been a huge crowd gathered to help him

FOUND! I'm Sorry & Thank You by Iamnotawriter (T, 12k, LQR & WWX, WangXian, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Golden Core, Canon-Typical Violence, lqr's epipheny, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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13. Hi, can you help me find a fanfic that I missed? It was about WWX who died (supposedly in his world, devoured by corpses) but he travels to another dimension, he thinks it was because of the Stygian Tiger seal, and finds another version of himself that was from that dimension. There is a specific scene where WWX (modern) teaches WWX (cultivator) how to use the shower and WWX (modern) talks about Su She who was his boyfriend and such. In the end, Huaisang reveals that the two WWX have the same DNA and that he has never seen an identity of him. / oi, podem me ajudar a achar uma fic, (hi, can you help me find a fic,) It's from wwx that he dies and travels to another dimension, where he meets another older wei wuxian, this wwx (modern) is investigating a case of dead people, there's a scene where they take baths together (Wwx (modern) teaches wwx (cultivator) how to use showers) and wwx talks about his jerk ex-boyfriend who was su she, there's a specific scene where wwx (modern) confronts su she (ex-boyfriend) he (modern wwx) meets lwj who was a teacher of something and they end up getting close.

(this part moved to Itmf)

both requests by @quwieiidkd

FOUND? so when you go wherever it is you will go, take the moon with you by comforting_monachopsis (T, 138k, WWX & WWX, WWX & WQ, WWX & WN, wangxian, JC & WWX & JYL, past WWX/SS, past WWX/XY, canon divergence, time travel, dimension travel, modern, private investigator WWX, professor LWJ, trauma, serial killers, strangers to lovers, BAMF WWX, hurt WWX)

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14. I'm looking for a fanfic, but I can't find it. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji share an unsatisfying night, but fate keeps bringing them together. thanks! ❤️

FOUND? 🔒 Bad Sex, Good Loving by Nyatci (E, 18k, WangXian, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/referenced WWX/Others, Implied/referenced LWJ/Others, One night stand WangXian, PWP, but like, Bad Porn with Good Plot, The Plot is the Porn being Bad, Self-Esteem Issues, Communication Failure, Idiots in Love, Falling In Love, Practice makes perfect, They work on the communication thing eventually, Under-negotiated Kink, mild angst with a very happy ending, BDSM Undertones, Consensual Non-Consent)

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15. hi this is for ficfinder!

I think this was based in the 1900s? and lwj is an exorcist of sorts, and I think wen qings family calls him for help, because I kinda remember her opening the door for him and granny is also there. wwx is a Gardner in the wen house and he's also the necromancer. I think the phrase used was similar "there's a friendly gardner"

thank you sm!

FOUND? sweet beneath sharp edges by isabilightwood (E, WangXian, Historical, Jazz Age, Light Horror, Demonic Cultivation, Ghost Possession, Haunted House, Cultivator LWJ, Gardener WWX, disabled character (WN), WRH is not a good uncle (or father), Mystery, LWJ is sent to exorcise a house and flirts with the gardener instead, said gardener may or may not be the monster he was sent to kill, Madam Lan Lives, Monsterfucker LWJ, Bottom LWJ, Resentacles, flirting via fruit, Weirdo4weirdo wangxian, Oral Fixation, WWX eats the rich (literally), Power Bottom LWJ but wwx is still in control)

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16. Hi, I’m searching for a fic I read quite some time ago. Wwx actually remembers Lwj confessing to him after the Burial Mounds siege and then they’re kinda forced into a marriage? Lwj goes to live with wwx and the wens but wwx treats him horribly. Lwj by then had been whipped and so he’s terrible pain all the time.

Thank you so much 😊 @bcozwhythefuknot

FOUND? ❤️ A Myriad of Blossoms by Itszero (E, 56k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, YLLZ WWX, Hurt LWJ, Cruel wwx, he’s cruel until he’s not, Protective WWX, Caring WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Dark WWX)

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17. Hi!! I've been looking for this fic for a while, I hope yall can help me. So what I remember is that LWJ becomes the YLLZ's concubine, spouse, bed warmer? They spent years apart, and WWX held some resentment due to a misunderstanding (LWJ was punished with the whip and couldn't be besides him?) I remember this scene where LWJ is wearing a (silk?) robe. Then WWX funds out about the whip scars and It was a whole thing that solved the misunderstanding, I believe. It may be a AU since there was some kind of Magic besides canon stuff? Like, the Wei Sect? members were part something (demons, animals, idk) and It happened to LWJ too for being in the BM. Oh, and MXY and A-Yuan were there too! I hope someone can help me. Thank you!

FOUND? the necromancer's fairytale by iliacquer (E, 17k, WangXian, Top LWJ, Bottom WWX, but they have switch energy, safe sane consensual noncon kink, is the Yiling Patriarch a kink, incoherent worldbuilding is incoherent, Past Torture the lan family are terrible sorry, Rough Sex, Pain Kink)

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18. hello! i'd like to ask for a fic finder! it's at least two-three years old, and on the shorter side i believe??

the first one is CR study arc, where lwj believes wwx's prank was specifically because he found out lwj is a cutsleeve/has feelings for wwx. i think he gets silently angry like canon, and later he confronts wwx about it? (it's not works/32795896 though it's similar)

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19. Hi! I'm looking for a specific fic - I think I read it at least 2 years ago, maybe earlier. WWX is hidden by (I can't quite remember if it's after 13 years or before hand) JC and JYanli, and pretends to be a woman whilst figuring what to do now. Jin Guangshan hits on her, and as always, LWJ falls for WWX in a different form. Whilst at the Golden Carp Tower, WWX is also in a wheelchair - I can't quite remember why. Everything gets revealed eventually.

FOUND? My Leaves Reach Ever for the Sun by nonplussed (T, 26k, WangXian, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fix-It, Crossdressing, Idiots in Love, Sharing a Bed, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies)

The Housewife's Guide to Causing Chaos by dvasva (M, 132k, WIP, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Functionally Trans Character, Mild Sexual Content, Domestic Fluff, Love Confessions, Transphobia, Good Parents LWJ and WWX, Pining, WWX is a Tease, Grief/Mourning, Body Dysphoria, Fake Marriage, Canonical Character Death, Misunderstandings, Doting LWJ, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, WWX is not in MXY's body, Misgendering, Mild Angst, Assumptions, Comedic Elements, non-sexual nudity, Blood, Discussion of Various Bodily Functions, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, 4 years of mourning instead of 13, Méishān Yú Sect, POV Multiple, Corporal Punishment, Trans WWX, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, pregnancy mention, Timeline What Timeline, Sexual Harassment Threats) Both of these have jgs being a creep towards wei ying

FOUND? Wei Wuxian, Who's That? by bumbledees (T, 48k, wangxian, crossdressing, pining, sibling feels) Both of these have jgs being a creep towards wei ying

FOUND? By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal) idr if theres a wheelchair involved for sure. i feel like there is but im gonna be honest i always forget abled ppl exist so in my mind when i read everyone is using mobility aids all the time until i get reminded otherwise lol but i do recall that he is weak and regaining energy so its possible he was using a wheelchair atp for that reason ? either way its a good fic

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20. Hello, i love what you're doings! A fic I'm looking for: JC and LWzj time travelled and decided to fix canon. As such, they spent a lot of time together. But that lead to everyone- especially wwx - to think they're a couple. Wwx is okay with it, but really bothered that he keels getting dragged into their dates @midnightlighthowlite

FOUND? ❤️ For Both Of Us (And Time Is But A Paper Moon) by sami (E, 65k, WangXian, Time Travel, Some People Live/Not Everyone Dies, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Canon Divergence, Asexual JC, First Time, Getting Together, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ)

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[val-of-the-north]

Tibia Mariners and Those Lost in Death

While I am at it, I should talk about a detail found in Messmer's Shadow Keep. On the way to the Specimen Storehouse, you'll be faced with a peculiar sight: boats lit on fire.

This seems to be a callback to Viking funerals, except the boats are placed in a row and burnt on land. It's certainly an odd practice, but it might only be done this way because Messmer's forces are far from an accessible shore or water that's deep enough to perform it normally.

However, something else caught my eye. The boats looked quite familiar so I went back to check and...

It was the EXACT model as the boats used by the Tibia Mariners! Perhaps it is obvious seeing as the Messmer boats are used in a funerary rite, but I think it's still quite a significant connection, especially since the old Mariners have gotten quite a bit of new lore in the DLC. In Charo's Hidden Grave we can find the skulls of boatmen as a crafting material, presumably that of previous Tibia Mariners.

This is outright confirmed after finding the lone Tibia Mariner in the area, who upon defeat drops the Tibia's Cookbook, which describes them as the oldest of grave keepers.

(Btw I love the detail of the piece of lace cloth and golden ornaments, they are the same found on the Mariners themselves. They even come with the same ghostly glow)

This is quite the revelation, as prior to Shadow of the Erdtree we had no way of knowing that these guys actually predated the spread of Deathroot and Godwyn's transformation into the Prince of Death. And how could we doubt that, since they even drop Deathroot themselves? But there was something that most people have neglected to note about the Mariners, me included.

In the base game, the Tibia Mariner found in the Wyndham Ruins drops a spell called Tibia's Summons. This inconspicuous sorcery of the servants of death actually holds a perplexing description which mentions a group known as "Those Lost in Death".

There was something seemingly redundant and unexplained about these guys. What does "Lost in Death" mean? Why aren't they simply called "Those Who Live in Death"? It wouldn't blame anyone for assuming that this description just contains an outdated term for the undead before they stuck with the one used in-game. However, through the Tibia's Cookbook, we find a NEW reference to this same concept.

Roughly the same title (Those Lost in Death = one lost in death), the same underlying sentiment, and we have verifiable proof that the Tibia Mariners are outright ancient... so what's the deal with this? Well, I have a theory.

The descriptions of these things hint at the fact that the dead have been wandering for a very long time, and that they are in need of leadership. Before the DLC, it was easy to assume that the undead were simply a result of Deathroot, and the game seemed to suggest the same thing by stating multiple times that it was the origin of Those Who Live in Death...

... but that's the thing! Prior to Deathroot connecting them to Godwyn, the undead amounted only to shambling corpses. They were not LIVING in Death, but simply LOST in it, which is how the Mariners were able to control them in ancient times through the use of sounds, both their horns and the Calls of Tibia. It's only through the guidance of a lord, in this case the Prince of Death, that they found an identity and new life.

It's likely the undead waned in the era of Marika because of her elaborate Erdtree burials and general control of life and death. Heck, the figure of Rosus, who guides us to the Catacombs, must have also played a big part in their disappearance. His axe has a similar power to the Tibia's Summons and it's called Rosus's Summons. Its description also mentions that the dead easily lose their way, meaning that Rosus was meant to lend the dead a guiding hand. "Those Lost in Death" would be lost no more.

Without people Lost in Death, the Mariners kind of lost their purpose and vanished for a long time... until the Shattering and the rise of Those Who Live in Death of course. It might mean that the only reason they hold onto Deathroot is because it attracts and connects the new undead.

I guess Godwyn was meant to be a sort of "lighthouse" for all undead. He would make sure they never lost themselves but also that they would be allowed to live instead of being forced back to rest like with Rosus and Marika. Him being a "lighthouse" also fits the marine theme that all this death business is going for quite neatly I think...

But to return to what started this... maybe those boats lit on fire are Messmer's way of making sure the soldiers of his army aren't lost to death after their passing. A way to give them a proper rest the way Marika would have wanted, even though he is limited in what he can do about it. The Catacombs are now corrupted with Deathroots and Godwyn's corpse bodies, and guarded by his fervent golden Death Knights.

(P.S. - I didn't know where to put this, but "Charo" is one letter off from Charon, the ferryman of the dead in Greek mythology. Seeing as the place is connected to the Tibia Mariners, who shepherded Those Lost in Death in an age long past, I find that this connection might not be mere coincidence...)

[atlabeth]

weight of the world

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy returns to camp after a successful quest. luke battles his guilt.

a/n: a lot of you guys seemed to like the percy pov and the pure angst of luke doing all this stuff to his first love's brother percy jackson instead of just percy jackson and first and foremost i would like to say you're all crazy but i also agree. so here you go. title from the jon bellion song

wc: 5.6k

warning(s): reader is dead (i feel like i have to tag this every time lmao). angst made angstier with fluffy flashbacks. tlt betrayal scene (pit scorpion edition). everyone is so sad

When Percy returned to camp with Annabeth and Grover, they were hailed as heroes. 

It might not have felt like it on the road, isolated with just the three of them, but they’d prevented a third World War. They certainly stopped camp from getting destroyed, if what Luke told them was true about the cabins taking sides. 

Burning their burial shrouds felt even better, especially with the Ares cabin’s expert craftsmanship. Apparently it was a tradition because demigods died so frequently on quests—Percy took pride in breaking that unsettling standard. 

It turned out all he needed to come into his own was to go on a quest everyone thought would kill him and not die. 

He excelled during his sword fighting lessons—going against a god would do that for you—he’d gotten much better at using his powers—going against a god would also do that for you—and his team always dominated on the lake during races, though that might’ve just been him cheating. 

He’d even started getting used to the Poseidon cabin in all its emptiness. It still felt too lonely, but he was working on it. The first thing he did when he got back to the cabin was pin your photo on the wall—Cabin Three belonged to you as much as it did to him.

And of course, everyone wanted to hear about how Percy saved the world. He’d told the story of his quest about a hundred times since he got back, sometimes with Annabeth piping in to set the record straight, sometimes with Grover dramatically setting the scene, always with a million different questions in between about how everything went down. 

Tonight was no different in the amphitheater—a group of Athena kids wanted to hear about his fight against Ares again—but he managed to get out of giving them the excruciating play-by-play courtesy of campfire songs. Percy didn’t really mind, though—any night with a large, golden fire was a good night in his books. 

Which was kind of how he ended up giving Luke the play-by-play of his quest. Maybe it was bragging, but he hadn’t seen who he considered his first friend at camp in a while. And yeah, sue him, but he wanted to impress Luke. He was cool and nice and good at everything, and Percy wanted to prove he’d made him proud. 

“—And I thought I didn’t stand a chance, but she taunted me and told me to jump into the water if I was really Poseidon’s kid. So I did, and it worked, and somehow I lived.” Percy shook his head with a slight laugh. “It ended up all over the news. I was a nationally wanted criminal for a couple days. We also blew a bus up, and rode with a zebra and a lion to Vegas, and went to the Underworld— gods, we did so much. It was crazy, honestly.” 

Luke chuckled. “I’m sure.” 

Percy glanced over at him, his brows creasing when he saw his distant gaze. He didn’t think Luke heard a single word. “You good, man?” 

He blinked and focused back on Percy, and though he smiled it was strained. “Yeah. Sorry—spaced out for a second. You were talking about your quest?” 

Percy nodded slowly. “Yeah. The whole criminal thing.” 

His smile turned a little more genuine. “You made front page news, too. I think you became the idol of a lotta kids here.”

“Oh, god,” he said with a frown. “You guys get news here?” 

“Couple New York papers,” he nodded. “You’re camp-famous.” 

Percy huffed a laugh and shook his head. “It feels crazy. I just got here a month ago, and everything’s already changed so much.” He looked over at Luke. “What did you do after you got home from your quest?” 

“...It takes some getting used to,” he admitted with a shrug. “I mean, getting to camp after so many years on the road was rough—coming back to camp after getting this—” he tapped his scar— “didn’t help.” 

“How did you get that?” he asked. 

“You’re always trying to get the saddest stories out of me,” Luke said wryly. “You know you can read books, right?” 

“I can’t, actually,” Percy said. "Not well."

Luke laughed and shook his head, his gaze falling back to the fire. Percy took it as him moving on. 

“I— I know I’m kind of proving your point, but… I wanted to ask you if I could have a couple more pictures” Percy cleared his throat, brushing a few dark strands of hair out of his face. “Of my sister, I mean. Obviously, you have way more of a right to them than I do, but— but Cabin Three’s a little bare. I thought adding a couple current things to the old stuff she put up would be nice.” 

His throat bobbed, and it took him a second, but he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah— sure.”

“Tomorrow after breakfast?” he asked. “I’ve got some free time before I have to go down to the forge.”

Luke nodded again. “Sure. You still have that picture I gave you?”

“Of course,” he said. “I already put it up on the wall. Do you want it back?”

His smile was bittersweet as he shook his head. “Nah. Like I said, you deserve to have a piece of her with you. And I’m sure she’d say the same.”

“I asked my dad about her, y’know,” Percy said. Luke’s eyes widened a bit as he looked back at him. “I went to Olympus on my own to return Zeus’s bolt, and the two of them were there. My dad and I got some alone time, and…” he shrugged. “I already annoyed two gods that day. Figured a third wouldn’t be that crazy.”

“What did he say?” 

“That it was one of his greatest regrets,” Percy said. “And he’d never forgive himself for letting her die, and for what it did to her mom.” He glanced at Luke. “And to you.”

Luke’s chest stilled, his gaze going out of focus for a moment as a muscle worked in his jaw. He hid it well, but Percy knew. He’d spent enough time at home with his mom and step-dad, overheard enough one-sided arguments. 

“You’re braver than me,” he finally said, and he stood up. “I’m gonna turn in—it’s been a long day.”

“I’m sorry, Luke,” he said. “And Poseidon is too, for whatever it’s worth.” 

Luke didn’t look back at him as he started towards the path. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Percy.” 

-

“Are you sure you’re allowed to put lights up?” Luke asked. 

“Okay, Chiron,” you said cloyingly. “I didn’t know you were such a stickler for the rules.” 

“I’m just worried about fire safety!” he exclaimed. “The Hephaestus kids nearly burn down their cabin at least five times a week.” 

“They’re working with actual fire. These are just Christmas lights.” You glanced down at him and he handed you the next strand. “Besides, this is the safest cabin for possible fire hazards. And they look pretty—that’s all that matters.” 

Luke chuckled as you hung them up, and he took a step back as you jumped off the chair and moved it to the other side of the room. You usually hung fairy lights, but with the holidays just around the corner, you wanted to make the place more festive. You asked Luke if he wanted to hang out with you while you decorated, and he obviously accepted. He took all the time he could get with you. 

“It’s so quiet in here,” Luke said as you got back up, taking the next strand with you. “I’m not used to an empty cabin.” 

“That’s what happens when you’re not supposed to be alive,” you mused. 

“You of all people can’t say that.” He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Do you ever get lonely in here?” 

“‘Course not,” you said. “I’ve always got you following me around.” 

“Can you blame me?” he asked. “Your company’s the best.” 

You grinned and looked back down at him, and Luke gave you the next string of lights. “Or maybe you’re just a little crazy. You’ve gotta be to spend three years on the road with me.” 

“Being around you is what’s kept me sane,” he corrected. “Especially in the Hermes cabin of chaos.” 

You got up on your toes and lifted a leg up so you could lean to reach the last hook. “Oh, come on. Your siblings are so fun to be around!” 

“Maybe in small doses,” he said wryly. “And be careful, gods—” 

You looked down at him, your grin only growing. “Are you saying you’re worried about me?” 

“Always,” he said, still watching you, “but the last thing you need is to break your leg.” 

“It’s a five foot fall, Luke,” you said, amused as you got back on even footing. You hopped back down and tilted your head. “I’ve survived much higher falls.” 

Luke frowned. “You don’t get to joke about that.” 

“I thought you were dead too,” you defended. “That means it’s fair game.” 

His chest twisted. He’d played that day over in his head thousands of times since he first lost you, wondering if he could have done something different or if he should have searched more—he stayed in those woods for a week and a half searching for you before another monster attack forced him out of the area. It was the whole reason he came up with a designated meeting area with Thalia and Annabeth if they got separated—he never wanted to lose someone again the way he lost you. 

He shook his head with a sigh. “Sometimes I still can’t believe it, y’know? 

“Thank my dad,” you said. “I would have died if I didn’t fall into water. And he’s the reason I got to camp.” 

He’s also the reason you ended up on the streets in the first place, Luke wanted to say, but he held his tongue. You’d never shared his disdain for the gods, and he didn’t want to spoil your mood with his bitterness. 

So he doesn’t. He tilted his head and focused back on you. “Do I ever tell you how thankful I am that you're still alive?”

You smiled as you pushed the chair in front of your desk. “I could always stand to hear it more.” 

“Well, I’m thankful that you’re alive,” Luke said. He could have stared at your smile forever. “Mourning you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” 

“With any luck, you won’t have to do it again,” you joked. “I get it, though. Sometimes it feels like a dream. I thought I was hallucinating when you came over that hill.”  

The best and the worst day of his life—he found you again and lost Thalia in the same five-minute span. It wasn’t fair—Luke had told Thalia so many stories about you, and she was the one that brought him back from the edge your supposed death sent him to. On his worst days, Luke blamed himself for both. 

“Luke,” you said, jarring him out of his thoughts. “What do you think of the lights? Tacky, or festive, or both?” 

He blinked, then took a step back with you so you could get the full view. He nodded. “Festive, definitely. Where’d you even get them?” 

“The Big House attic,” you said. “It’s not just full of Oracles and spoils of war.” 

He chuckled. “And how did you convince Chiron to give you those?” 

You shrugged. “You know I’m persuasive.” 

Luke shook his head. “I’m jealous. No one else really gets to decorate their place like this.” 

“No siblings means full creative control,” you mused. “And Big Three dad means a big cabin all for me.” 

“And yet you still get a twin bed,” he said with a smile. “We’re all equal, really.” 

“Like you wouldn’t prefer a full.” You fluffed your pillow then set it back down. “You spend as much time in here as I do.” 

“Can you blame me?” Luke shrugged. “There’s no privacy there. We can get away with basically anything in here.” 

“And because you love me,” you said cloyingly as you rustled your hair with his hand. 

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I really do.” 

Your smile widened and you gestured at your box of decorations. “Wanna prove it, loverboy? Help me get the rest of this up before sword lessons.”

“Y’know, I’m leading them today,” Luke said, picking up a stack of snowflake cutouts. He was pretty sure you just took all the rejects after you were in charge of the crafts for a week. “Technically, that means we’ve got as long as we want.” 

“Oh, Luke Castellan,” you said airily, pressing a hand to your chest. “You know the way to my heart.” 

-

“Oh,” Percy said. “Wow.” 

“Yeah. And this is only one of them.” Luke set a cardboard box full of things on an empty bed and sighed. “She made this place her own while she was here.”

Percy took out a stack of baseball cards on top—Red Sox, of course, the only bad thing about you—and shuffled through them. “Everything’s a little dusty.” 

“No one really wanted to come in here after she died,” Luke said. He had a tangled mess of Christmas lights in his hands. “All this stuff stayed up for a year or two before I took it all down.” He huffed a mirthless laugh. “You’re probably the only one apart from me to be in here since she left.” 

Percy set the cards down. “Do you mind if I put some of it back up?” 

Luke glanced at him. “Why do you always ask me? This is your place.” 

“It’s not just my place,” he said. “I… I want to make sure I’m honoring her well. And I don’t wanna make it harder for you. Especially if you took it down for a reason.” 

Luke was silent for a moment as he stared at the lights. He brushed off some dust with his thumb. 

Percy felt bad for pushing the matter every time he was around Luke, but there was a tug inside of him—an innate need to know more about her, a desperation to honor her life despite never meeting her. 

“I appreciate it,” he finally said. “But go for it, man. You don’t have to get my permission.” 

Percy nodded, and he took a poster out, wedged in the side of the box. A Blondie poster, based off the huge block letters above a blonde singer stylized in pop art. It had a torn corner, and bits of tape had been folded over some parts of the edges. 

Luke chuckled. “She was a huge Blondie fan. She brought her Walkman when she ran away—I lost count of how many times we listened to Parallel Lines. Definitely put that one back up.” 

Percy nodded and set it on his bed. He looked at the lights in Luke’s hand. “Why’d she have those?” 

“She loved to light the cabin up,” he explained. “Said it made it feel more homey, and she liked to change it with the seasons. And when she enlisted the Aphrodite kids, it was like a— a HomeGoods warzone.” Luke shook his head with the most genuine smile he’d seen all day. “She really was something special.”  

Again, Percy’s heart clenched. It wasn’t fair he only got to learn about you through stories, only through the past tense. If he could get his mom back, why the hell couldn’t he get you back? Why couldn’t his dad have stepped in? 

What good was regret when you have all the power in the world to stop it? What good was being a god if you couldn’t save your family when it mattered most? 

“Y’know, I decorated this place a million times with her,” he said, and Percy was thankful for the interruption with his thoughts. “She wanted it to be a welcoming cabin, open to the whole camp if they ever got homesick.” 

“So the opposite of what it used to be,” Percy said wryly. 

“Yeah,” Luke nodded. “You two are the first Poseidon kids in a long time because of the oath—it was just here for respect. She didn’t just make it into her home, she made it into a home for anyone that needed some extra warmth.” 

Percy looked around, trying to imagine you and a younger, unscarred Luke putting all this stuff on the walls, him helping you hang Christmas lights. You sitting on a bed, maybe what he’d chosen as his bed, talking a younger camper through their fears or their homesickness. You forcing the innate coldness of Cabin Three out and replacing it with warmth of your own. 

“Did you bring any pictures?” he asked. 

Luke nodded again and took a few out of his pockets, offering them to Percy. He took the one sticking out the most and smiled a bit. 

“Very Poseidon of her,” he commented. 

“She loved the beach,” Luke said, smiling wistfully. “No matter what state we were in, she would always try to find one. We could’ve walked twenty miles that day, and the moment she stepped into the water she would be good as new. I should’ve known who her dad was a lot sooner.”

Percy’s hand lingered on the picture he’d just put up. You stood on a sandy shore with your arms spread and head tilted back, and you looked wholly in your element. 

He wondered what you would think of Montauk. 

“This was one of those times?” he asked. 

Luke nodded. “North Carolina. A year and a half in, I think. We missed the East Coast after being in the Midwest for so long, and naturally, she found a beach immediately.” His eyes softened. “She was always so happy around the water, even after she knew what it meant.”

Percy frowned. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Finding out the thing you’ve always loved is the domain of the father who abandoned you is a little rough.” 

Luke always spoke with more nerve towards the gods than any other camper he knew. Funny, considering he was one of the first ones to tell him that names had power.

And he’d been acting weird since Percy got back from the quest. He thought maybe he was jealous, but Luke didn’t really seem like the jealous type—especially when he was already so cool. 

Then again, they did just come back from the brink of a possible world war. Percy should’ve been surprised more people weren’t acting weird. 

His attention drifted to the clock on the wall in the midst of his thoughts—Chiron’s last ditch effort in a camp full of time-blind kids—and his eyes widened. 

Percy muttered under his breath—Annabeth had taught him some Ancient Greek curse words on the road, and he was sure his mom would love them—and looked up at Luke. “Sorry, man. I’ve gotta go. Time really got away from me.” 

“I get it,” he nodded. “Have you gotten any better?” 

He glanced away bashfully. “Not really. But Beckendorf has the patience of a saint. Maybe someday I’ll make an actually functional sword.” 

Luke chuckled, though it was wistful. “Good luck. You mind if I stay here for a bit? I can put up some of her things.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “of course. Stay as long as you want.” 

Percy stopped once he got out of the door. Luke’s gaze was glued to a picture of you on the wall, his expression softer than he’d ever seen before at odds with something indistinguishable in his eyes. Again, Percy felt that all-encompassing dread, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. 

He left before it could consume him, but the haunted look in Luke’s eyes didn’t leave his head for the rest of the day. 

-

You took in a deep breath of salty air. The sea breeze blew over you as waves gently rolled into shore, and you smiled. You never felt more like yourself than when you were at the beach, and when you and Luke were constantly on the run fighting for your lives, sometimes you desperately needed to feel like yourself. 

You exhaled long and slow. It had been a particularly rough week—Luke did his best patching up your shoulder, but it would definitely scar—and this was just what you needed to wind down before you started moving again. 

You and your mom went to Cape Cod a lot when you were growing up, and though this wasn’t anywhere close to the same, it made for an alright stand-in.

The click of a polaroid camera interrupted your peace, and you opened your eyes and turned your head to see the culprit. 

“And you made fun of me for constantly taking pictures,” you said wryly. 

Luke smiled. “I made fun of you for taking up valuable space in your bag to bring your camera with you. I can’t not take pictures of you—especially when you’re so photogenic.” 

“Flatterer.” 

“Not if it’s true,” he remarked. He held out the camera to you. “Wanna get any pictures of the sea? You’ve got a better eye than me.” 

“Well, the sea’s a better subject than me,” you said. “Hold onto it.” 

He chuckled and took it back, drying out the newly printed picture. “How’re you feeling, by the way? I know it’s been a hard few days.”  

“Never better,” you said. “I needed a break from the road.”

“I get why you wanted to stop here,” he said. “It’s… calming.”

“Isn’t it?” You spread your arms out, breathing in deep once more. “I always feel better out here. More free.”

Another camera click, and your smile grew. “How do you feel?” 

“Better too, surprisingly. But that might just be because we’re walking instead of running.” You heard his footsteps and he came up next to you. You took the picture he offered and chuckled. You had your head back and your arms spread, soaking up every bit of sun and sea air you could. 

“I look like a stock photo.” 

“Does that mean I can get a job as a photographer?” he asked. “We could use some extra cash.” 

“Half of the pictures are either random parts of nature or me,” you said. “Who’d buy those?” 

“Me,” Luke said. “But I don’t think that would help with our money problems.” 

“All this flattery won’t get you anywhere,” you said. 

“It got me here,” he said. “I think it’s worked out pretty well.” 

You smiled as you looped arms with Luke, and after you gestured with your head, you started walking down the sand together. Whereas you always felt like you were blurting out the first thing that came to mind when you were around him, Luke always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better. “Do you like it here?” 

Luke nodded. “It’s nice. I get why you like the water so much.” 

“At least one beach a week going forward now that we’re on the coast again, then,” you said. “Deal?” 

“Deal,” he agreed. 

“Good,” you said with a smile. “I’ve been wanting to go back to Virginia Beach. Last time, those giant ant things ruined it for us.” 

“Gods,” Luke grumbled, and you felt him shiver. “Don’t remind me of those things. I’ll never forget what their poison smelled like—and I’ll never forgive them for ruining my favorite shirt.” 

“Don’t worry,” you said. “I’ll get you a Red Sox one someday, and it’ll become your new favorite shirt.” 

Luke shook his head. “Your Boston baseball propaganda isn’t gonna work. I was raised as a Yankee.” 

“And I’m here to undo that awful brainwashing,” you said sagely. “Next time we go through Massachusetts, I’ll have to get you one. And we can stop by Cape Cod—I think being close to the water is good for my health.” 

“And I like seeing you happy,” he mused. “So I guess it works out for both of us.” 

You laughed. “We’ll have to stop at a music store before the day ends, too. I’ve nearly worn out my Cyndi Lauper tape, and I need to get some new ones. You should pick out an album you like too.h” 

“‘Course,” he said. “I think we’ve got some extra cash saved up. And if we have to—” 

“We shouldn’t steal anything yet,” you interrupted. “I don’t wanna get the cops on our backs so soon.” 

“You say that like I would get caught,” Luke remarked. “It’s literally in my genes. I’m making my father proud, and I’m helping you. I see no reason not to do it.” 

“Cool it,” you said. “We’re not becoming Bonnie and Clyde at the ripe old age of eleven.” 

“Fine.” You couldn’t see it, but you could sense his smile. “I’ll hold off. For now.” 

That got another laugh out of you as you leaned your head against his shoulder. It felt like you’d been on the run for a week straight—this was the best break you could have asked for. Maybe the sea was good for your health, you thought. Or maybe it was just Luke. 

Either worked for you. 

-

Percy could hardly breathe as he stared down at the scorpion, slowly inching its way up his pants leg. It wasn’t every day one of your friends betrayed and tried to kill you in the woods, but this seemed like the year he started checking things off his bucket list. 

“So this was your plan all along,” he said, attention split between the pit scorpion and the traitor. “Gain my trust, send me to Tartarus, start a war for Kronos.” 

The air got colder, and Luke tilted his head. “You should be careful with names.”

“And you should do the job yourself,” he challenged. “You want to kill me? Fight me like a man.” 

“I’m not Ares,” he said tartly. “You can’t bait me.” 

“So you’re a coward too?” Red hot anger rose within him, and the words left him before he could really think about them. “Did you also lie about my sister? Got a hobby of killing Poseidon kids?”

“Zeus got her killed, Percy!” Luke yelled. There was something wild in his eyes as he gestured with his sword. “I loved her more than anything—I held her as she died, and your dad let it happen. If it weren’t for the gods, both her and Thalia would be alive!” 

Maybe it was a good thing Percy didn’t know that until now. If he knew the king of gods was responsible for his sister’s death, he would’ve gotten himself burnt to a crisp on Olympus. 

“This isn’t what my sister would have wanted,” he said. “She—”

“Don’t you dare talk about her!” His voice continued to rise. “You don’t know her— you don’t know what she would have wanted!” 

“She couldn’t have wanted this!” he exclaimed. Percy’s breath caught momentarily as the scorpion inched closer and he forced his muscles to remain as still as possible as his gaze flicked back over to Luke. “This isn’t the way to fix things, Luke. I promise.” 

He shook his head, and he could have been a son of Ares the way fire seemed to blaze in his eyes. “She died because of Zeus, Percy. She was so close to sixteen, and that meant she was a threat to his power. He sent monsters to kill her, and your dad could have saved her, but he didn’t do a damn thing about it. And y’know,” Luke huffed a laugh, cold and mirthless, “the same thing’s gonna happen to you.” 

His blood had turned to ice. “He knows the pain of losing a daughter. Why would he—” 

“Because they don’t care, Percy!” he yelled, his sword cutting through the air again. “All they care about is keeping their power and their position. Your dad would rather send you on a death quest than stop stroking his ego for one measly second. Hades sent monsters to kill Thalia, and Zeus sent monsters to kill your sister—they can’t punish each other, so they punish us, and the cycle will never stop until we make it stop.”

“And you think that this is the way to do it?” he asked desperately. “By betraying camp and all your friends? We’re in the same position as you are!” 

“And anyone that’s smart will join our cause,” Luke said. “Do you really think I’m the only one that’s upset with the gods? I’ve been here for five years—I’ve seen kids leave for the school year and never come back. I’ve seen kids die without ever being claimed. My own dad turned me away at every opportunity. Our numbers are bigger than you know, Percy.” 

“You say I don’t know my sister,” Percy said, “but I know her enough to know she wouldn’t want this. Not in her name. Not against our father.” 

“You don’t know her at all,” Luke said, voice trembling. “If she knew that Zeus killed her for nothing but paranoia over a bullshit prophecy, she would be fighting against the gods right beside me.” 

“I lost her once,” he continued, shaky but full of anger, “and then I got her back, just to lose her all over again. The gods will never know that kind of pain—if they did, they wouldn’t have let it happen in the first place.” 

The scorpion was at his knee now. Percy was running out of time, and his mind was working in overdrive on how to get more, but he found himself rendered speechless. What could he say to a boy who’d lost everything? 

Luke was the lightning thief, he’d fully intended to kill Percy with those shoes, he meant to turn the gods against each other and raise Kronos, and now he was really trying to kill him.  

And yet, he couldn’t help but feel sympathy.

Percy thought he’d lost his mother, but now she was back. He’d met his father in person. He had a sister he’d never meet, that he would never be able to fully grieve. Luke loved her and grew up with her and grieved her twice.

Percy didn’t care—anyone who his sister loved couldn’t be a bad person. Not fully.  

“Please, Luke,” he said, voice low. “I don’t know how to solve it, but this isn’t the way. You think the gods are using you? Kronos is doing the exact same thing.” 

“You’re twelve, Percy, and you’re already the chosen one,” Luke said. “Hades and Ares would have both killed you if they got their way, and it was your job to stop a war between the gods because they couldn’t see beyond their egos. How is that fair to you?”  

“There was no other choice,” Percy insisted. “If either of them backed down, they would look weak. We’re the only ones that can do quests like this.” 

“Exactly,” he said. “They start petty fights that they can’t finish and it gets taken out on us. We have to be their heroes, and we have to praise them as we die.”

Percy remembered their bus exploding. Medusa, an innocent woman favored by Poseidon and punished by Athena for it. The endless souls in the Asphodel Fields, and even more waiting in line for their chance to be judged. Luke’s quest given to him by his father permanently scarring him, Thalia Grace sacrificing herself for her friends, his sister never getting the chance to see sixteen—Percy himself being used as a pawn to enact Kronos’s plan. 

“You don’t have to be a hero,” Luke continued, almost begging at this point. “You can join our cause—you can prove you’re so much more than the prophecies want you to be. Say the word and I’ll call it off.”

Percy wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of godly respect. He tricked Hades, insulted Zeus, and actually fought Ares. But his dad loved him���or loved his mom, at least. Annabeth’s determination and Grover’s steadfastness and all the friends he’d made at camp—all innocent children like himself. He couldn’t turn his back on that. 

Percy clenched his jaw. “I will never serve Kronos.”

Pain flashed in Luke’s dark eyes, but he shut it down just as soon. “So be it.”

He slashed his sword through the air and a ripple of darkness appeared, the void bleeding into the forest. 

“I really am sorry it came to this, Percy,” Luke said quietly. “But it’ll be quick. And that’s a bigger mercy than Zeus gave your sister.”

Luke disappeared into the darkness and it vanished soon after. Percy didn’t have time to think about his words—the scorpion had reached his thigh. Sixty seconds, Luke had said, then it was over. 

Percy had about five seconds to think of a plan before it lunged at him. He batted it away with one hand and uncapped his sword with the other, cutting the scorpion in half before it could reach the ground. 

He thought he did it. Then he looked at his hand, a red welt already sweltering on his palm, oozing sticky yellow liquid. 

Percy stumbled to the creek and submerged his hand, but nothing happened. He muttered a delusional prayer to his dad, then to his mother, then to you as he stumbled his way towards camp. Nymphs emerged from their trees, and he croaked a plea for help. 

As Percy collapsed, barely caught by nymphs on either side, he swore that he saw you. Did that mean he was dying? You had kind eyes like his mother, an aura of warmth unlike the feverish heat in his body, and it made the idea of it a lot less scary. 

He wondered if he’d meet you in Elysium. 

Percy reached a leaden arm out to you, mumbling your name despite his cottonmouth, and then his vision went black. 

[sunshine-jesse]

In defense of Andrew Graves: Facing Yourself​

Alt title: Andrew Graves: The Will to Plow Her

I think my analysis of Andrew is one of the best essays I've written so far. But since then, I think I've expanded my understanding of his character in a way that urges me to add on to my prior essay. What I intend on doing is further fleshing out my reading of Burial, and going deeper in detail on why I think Decay ends up panning out the way it does. This essay will end up sharing a lot of text with my prior one, but will add enough scattered throughout that I think it merits a complete reread instead of just scrolling down and seeing what's new.

I've focused a lot on Ashley in my past writings. She's my favorite character in the story (and depending on how episode 3 pans out, maybe ever) and I'm pretty mortified by how some parts of the fandom have reacted towards her, so I pretty much made it my life's mission to push back against that. From highlighting the ways Andrew mistreats her, to coming up with justifications for her behavior that aren't just being a manipulative bitch, I really wanted to prove that a more favorable picture of her could be painted than most were willing to.

But in doing so, I've left Andrew in the dust.

In highlighting his flaws and the ways he mistreats Ashley, I think I've implied a level of intentionality to his actions that I don't believe he has. When I say that Ashley did nothing wrong, it's in direct response to the idea that she holds the most responsibility and agency in how their dynamic plays out, when in reality, I believe she has very little. Most of her actions in-story are in reaction to a variety of stimuli that come directly from Andrew, that he has control over and are aware of how Ashley feels about. His refusal to use clear and direct language to deny her most toxic tendencies causes her more and more stress as time goes on, and instead of giving her clear answers he opts to be catty, passive-aggressive, or, at his worst, threatening. Never direct and never clear, except when establishing boundaries over his name after the choking scene. Andrew fails to help Ashley be better in some frankly depressing ways throughout the whole story, especially in their childhoods, so we never get to see where she'd fall short if given a better influence.

...

Kind of. More on that later!

In mentioning his thing about preferring to be called Andrew instead of Andy, I also implicitly mention one of the places where Ashley falls short in their dynamic and could stand to do better: recognition.

This scene says a lot. It's the most heartbreaking scene in the game, if you ask me, and probably the single most profound and well-written moment in the entire story. I could write a whole 2000 word essay on it alone, but I've already said most of what I have to say about it through what I've said in other essays, so I'll spare you all that. Instead, I'll use it to highlight something:

"I had fun."

Their dysfunction is fun to her. She's so used to abuse and alienation that even the most awful, stressful (as far as we know) route of the game is still fun to her. And that's not a sign of her being a secret evil sociopath or whatever; that's actually not abnormal behavior to develop for a lifelong victim of abuse. Those highs and lows, those strong emotional highs and lows are -addicting-. They're -fun.- Part of why abuse victims get into so many abusive relationships is because it's easy to pick up on those patterns of thought and take advantage of them, and the cycle of abuse is often furthered when a victim of abuse tries to draw out mutually abusive behaviors in someone with no interest in having that kind of dynamic.

This is where I'm willing to acknowledge Ashley's manipulative tendencies. Not just as a matter of controlling Andrew for its own sake, purely out of jealousy or possessiveness, but as a matter of trying to further the only dynamic she's ever known in her life. Better the devil you know, right?

That push and pull- that emotional rollercoaster- is all many of us know. And it's all Ashley knows. This dynamic is something she's so used to that she reacts incredibly harshly to any attempt to change it, because she doesn't know that things can be better. Because of this, she refuses to engage with who Andrew really is, and tells herself- and him- that she *hates* Andrew:

This scene is almost as heartbreaking as the above one in a lot of ways.

Andrew putting his foot down about the Andy/Andrew name dichotomy wasn't arbitrary and it wasn't just about his comfort. It was about Andrew giving a clear indication about what needs to happen for their relationship to improve. He's recognizing the cycle between them and wants to put a stop to it, because he's confident that things between them CAN get better and evolve into something healthier. Ashley, not understanding that their dynamic can get better, because their "fun" little push and pull of abuse is all she knows, rejects that. She rejects the unknown, and says- in Andrew's mind at least- that she'll never accept that new dynamic, nor will she accept who he really is.

Ouch. No wonder he looks so sad in that screenshot.

They have a conflict of understanding here, and I think it's fair to pin most of the responsibility on Ashley. Andrew was clear in what he wanted, and Ashley just... Didn't. She didn't see the importance of it ("...whatever that means in practice") and didn't really ask. This gap in communication, perfectly displayed in this scene, is likely what causes the Decay ending. He wants things to be better, and wants to treat Ashley better, and whether or not he understands the ways in which she communicates with him is in part what determines what he sees her as.

But there's a lot of evidence that he always wanted things to be better, that he always wanted to treat her better. But external factors have made it very, very difficult, and I think there are two key points in which he started to shed the importance of those external factors and seek that better relationship, both of which happening in the apartment: The killing of the warden and the 302 lady. In the first case, he was forced to do it to protect Ashley in a way he hadn't done before, or depending on how you look at it, since the death of Nina. But the intentionality was the key point here. After this point, he calls Ashley Leyley, which may or may not seem important at this point, but it's something I'll draw attention to later, so keep that in mind.

Next is the killing of the 302 lady, which is the much, much bigger point. We don't learn much about it until later on- as at first he just gives an excuse about the nail gun that doesn't line up with what we see on the map- but during the dream, it's revealed it was a calculated, intentional killing that he did to make sure there was no evidence left behind, and because Ashley (supposedly) would've wanted him to do it anyway. I say supposedly because Ashley herself doesn't seem to ever want Andrew to kill for her past Nina's death, because he only ever kills for her to defend one or both of them. If you want more evidence that violence for violence's sake isn't something she wants, look at this part in the final dream:

A knife isn't what opens the door, despite it being placed on the ground in that very map. While it seems obvious that the knife (violence) would be the key to solving the puzzle, it's put there explicitly to show you that it isn't. It's not what she wants; what she wants is a flower.

So, why is this important? Why am I centering Ashley- again- when this essay is supposed to be about Andrew?

It's because these two killings are when Andrew's self-delusion over who he really is starts to break down. It's still there, mind, as he still relies upon Ashley as an excuse to justify it, but, as well as what I've said before, the name ultimatum is an implicit confession that the normalcy he finds comfort in is starting to lose its grasp on him. There's a lot that's been said about Andy being something close to a "moral impulse" for Andrew, given his child self's reaction to Nina's death being the only thing he does that approximates a normal moral response to his and Ashley's actions, but if you do think that- which I think is a reasonable thing to think even if I don't necessarily agree- there's something you must also keep in mind:

-He- is the one who doesn't want to be called that anymore. -He- is the one who wants to let that moral impulse go, and Ashley is the one making it difficult.

That reading is assuming that Andy is a moral impulse, which I think is... either wrong or too simplistic. Every time I see that reading, it's from someone who's trying to paint him too sympathetically and absolve him of most moral responsibility. I also find it infantilizing to equate morality with childhood in such a way? But that's another tangent that I didn't sign up to talk about. What I do think, however, is that it's a useful framing device to display his own relationship with morality; the allegory to his child self doesn't have to be there for the general pattern to exist.

When Ashley starts to grill Andrew over the killing of the 302 lady, he gets mad. Very mad. Ashley sees it as pointless, as him covering his own ass, but he genuinely did it for her sake, because he thought that's what she wanted, and that it'd make her happy. But what makes her happy isn't violence- or any similarly extreme action for that matter- it's attention and validation. Something he's always reluctant to give her, despite the fact that he always chose her over the alternatives. But despite making that choice, it's always empty and meaningless, because in Ashley's mind, he never did it for her sake.

And hoo boy, does he not like it being framed like this.

He is perfectly willing to do whatever it takes to keep them happy and safe... but only for her sake. It has to be for her sake. He still needs that traditional role, and he still needs to have a narrative in which he's the good guy- a protector. Because it can't be for his sake. It can't be because that's what he wants. He has to uphold that romantic (in the literary tradition sense) ideal. His darkly romantic idealistic streak colors many of his actions and beliefs. This is most plainly visible in his quip about a double suicide being romantic, but it's also visible within the symbolism present within his dream, such as how he can only pave his own path in blood unless Ashley lights the way. It's visible within his appreciation for poetry, and it's visible with how the cultist within the dream speaks in Shakespearean English.

But the transient nature of this ideal is also revealed within this dream, because there's never a cohesive, guided path, even with Ashley there to light it up. Contrary to Ashley's dream, where you literally have maps showing you where to go, Andrew's dream has many more dead ends and no map to guide him. The symbolic role he acts out gives him no clarity, and there's no overarching narrative; merely a bunch of disconnected symbols.

This is contrasted with Ashley's dream, which has narratives so clear that the story literally gives the dream an episode title.

In a sense, he wants to view himself as an actor acting out a role in a story. He wants his life to be poetic, to represent something greater, and to have a cohesive narrative. This is why he's so disconnected from his true desires: He's more concerned with acting as a representative of an ideal than a person with agency. But every time the mask drops, every time he stops acting, his true self becomes visible. He naturally settles into being comfortable around Ashley, in treating her with warmth and kindness, and their banter becomes much less toxic. As intent as he is on acting out his role, it does nothing for him, and as his dream sequence shows, it doesn't even form a cohesive narrative, because he can't act one out. It's too contrary to who he really is, and what he really wants. But that idealization doesn't just apply to himself, it also applies to Ashley. Specifically, who Ashley is, vs who he wants her to be.

In his unique dream sequence, he sees two versions of Ashley; the child version of her- Leyley- and the adult version of her- Ashley. And the differences in the ways he interacts with the two of them are stunning. Leyley is an obstinate, annoying child. She's the one he NEEDS to take care of, and he hates that. He hates Leyley for what she did for his childhood. He hates that he needs to provide for her. He has the option of trying to kill her, even, over something as small as a candle!

But in the room with all the murders, the gilded cage, he sees Ashley as an adult. This version of Ashley is stuck in a closet that he himself has to open- and to choose to see. Their interactions are calm and friendly. She teases him a bit, sure, but she's still helpful, and they have fun together. He doesn't need her, and she doesn't need him. He needed Leyley- needed the candle- but here, there are other limbs strewn about for him to take. And, crucially, he doesn't even have the option to kill this Ashley for one of the limbs.

And during the choking scene, he lets her go the moment she acknowledges that he doesn't need her anymore. This is the first time we know of that he seems comfortable enough to set a clear boundary, which is acknowledging that their prior dynamic is dead and that they're now Andrew and Ashley, not Andy and Leyley. It's a bit late to express a clear boundary -after- literally acting like he was going to kill someone, but it's the first time we know of that he sets a clear standard for what, in his mind, would improve his relationship with Ashley.

After all, what he wants is to want her, not need her. He wants Ashley for Ashley's sake. Not for what she can provide him. He doesn't even need her for sleep, he just wants her. But Ashley has trouble acknowledging this, because he's never before shown that WANT. Only a NEED. She keeps trying to find ways to make him need her, because she's never seen what his desire for her is really like. She's only ever seen him desiring someone else, someone other than her.

She's only ever seen him as Andy, because she's never truly seen Andrew, only the violence he can inflict on others. But Andrew can see both:

He can see Leyley, the needy, bratty child who always needs his attention, that he needs to provide for. The one he hates and wants to get rid of. The one he kills for to protect.

And he can see Ashley, the one who engages in friendly and cute banter with him. Who comforts and shows him physical affection. The one he loves. The one he kills for to make happy.

He just can't choose which one he wants to see. Every outside influence- from his parents, to Julia, to Nina- makes him see her as Leyley. Ashley herself makes him see her as Leyley too, whenever she brings up all the things he did for her, and calls him Andy, his child self, instead of Andrew, his current self. And as long as he sees that child, he feels like one too, and can never give Ashley anything that comes from the heart.

But he really, really wants to see Ashley as an adult. He wants to take pride in her, how much she's grown, and how driven and competent she really is.

But god damn, does that bitch ever make it hard, because there IS no real difference between Ashley and Leyley. She's grown and changed over time, taking more adult (and stereotypically feminine) responsibility upon herself, but the fact that her temperament and personality hasn't changed much obfuscates that growth. When you talk to Ashley in the closet during the dream after getting the limb, Andrew asks Ashley to come out of the closet, but she refuses to come out because he won't invite Leyley over to play, which is a pretty strong metaphor for how he interfaces with different aspects of Ashley's personality and refuses to accept others. But the reality is that he needs to accept both, or rather, see her whole self as Ashley, rather than just the parts he likes.

In the end, it's him who has to make the choice how to see her. Ashley can only see what she's been shown, but Andrew can choose.

And in the basement scene, he makes that choice.

If Ashley refuses to leave him alone with their parents, that's it. In one of the most critical and important moments of his life, she couldn't give him the space needed to make up his own mind. She couldn't treat him as an adult. She couldn't see him as Andrew. If she does give him that choice, she chooses to acknowledge that Andrew is an adult who can be trusted to make his own decisions, even though she (perhaps foolishly) believes that this choice lines up with her own interests. And frankly it does either way, but in accepting their mom's offer, her chooses to see her as Leyley once and for all. He chooses not to reciprocate what Ashley showed him. He does it because he needs to, not because he wants to. Because it's his duty, not his desire.

This is what results in the Decay ending. Through his inability to see Ashley as an adult, he surrenders his agency and views all of his actions as an extension of his responsibilities, his role, which he no longer wishes to uphold. He dissociates fully from who he really is, acting in accordance with that disconnected, barely-cohesive narrative that exists only within his mind. The game starts to resemble the heartwrenching tragedy that many seem to take for granted that it is, as their dynamic fully doubles down on its painful toxicity. And, in an example of a poetic book end, Ashley's dream shows a double suicide, closing the book on their tragic tale.

It's tragic. It's heartwrenching. It's poetic. It's beautiful.

...Except it's not. Not at all.

It's actually fucking stupid, pointless, and brutal, and Burial shows us that. When we view their spiral as beautiful, we project the same darkly romantic ideal that Andrew possesses onto the story.

But the actual reality is horrifying.

Ashley spends most of Decay terrified of Andrew, the one person she found comfort in. He acts cold, distant, and aggressive towards her, showing pointless cruelty instead of any warmth. All she wants is comfort; all she wants is to not die. She doesn't want to engage in this death spiral at all, and, in her dream sequence, shows none of the same willingness to die alongside Andrew that Andrew does with her. The moment we stop focusing on the end of the Decay dream sequence, which has very striking imagery, and if you choose not to shoot, one of the most beautiful scenes in the game, we can see it for what it really is:

A scared animal running away from a predator.

The moment you see Decay through Ashley's eyes, and not the perspective of some romantic ideal, Decay becomes terrifying, tense, and painful. There is no catharsis to be had in this tragedy. It's easily avoidable as long as Andrew chooses to engage with reality, and not the empty promises of his mother and incoherent narrative of his ideal.

Finding beauty and meaning in tragedy is how we cope with the harshness of reality. But there is no coherent narrative to the tragedies we experience, just like there's no coherent narrative to the ideal Andrew wishes to uphold. It's something we create- that he creates- but it's not something that actually exists.

And when Andrew casts aside his desire for that ideal, and the responsibilities it shackles him to, it grants him clarity that he never had before. He sees the world for how it really is, and acknowledges that nobody- the least of which their mother- is as different from Ashley as they pretend to be.

They're no better than her, and he's tired of people pretending that they are. People are all the same, no matter what ideals they try to uphold and represent. They still sacrifice others in the name of advancing themselves, still punch down whenever they can, and still lay blame on those beneath them rather than try to take control of their lives. They just use those ideals to justify themselves, but Ashley, and now Andrew, reject even the need for that justification.

This is why I believe the story is nihilistic. Not in that it asserts the inherent meaninglessness of life, but in that it grapples with the ideals we uphold and how they obfuscate the reality of the world we live in. The story, intentionally or not, highlights how ideals are often but a pretense we use to justify what we were likely going to do regardless, and how holding to them too strongly can lead to our ruin- and how monstrous they make us look to those who do not share them.

Consequently, this is how I view the part of the fanbase who thinks Decay is a good ending.

(the characters themselves represent existentialism rather than nihilism but i couldn't really fit that analysis in here without it feeling forced so i might cover that another time)

From that point on, their relationship becomes a lot more friendly, lighthearted, and playful. They ironically start acting more like children, but to quote CS Lewis:

"Critics who treat adult as a term of approval, instead of as a merely descriptive term, cannot be adult themselves. To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence."

He's not ashamed of being playful with Ashley, or showing affection towards her. He's grown up. He finally sees her, and himself, as an adult- although he still doesn't show that in full until much later on (more or that later). But in Decay, he still sees her as a child, and to an extent, probably himself. Let's compare the ways in which he reacts to being called Andy. In Decay, he lashes out at Ashley and gets angry, even threatening her. But in Questionable Burial, he calmly says that Andy is dead and doesn't need Ashley's comfort, but still tries to reassure her that she's still needed. He's not ashamed of or hostile towards their prior dynamic, because he's grown past it. He still acknowledges Ashley's need to feel needed, but here, he recognizes its importance to her, whereas he was hostile towards it before.

It's a display of respect towards her feelings.

This interaction doesn't happen in the Sane ending, however. He doesn't play games with her and is just a lot less fun to be around all together. Why is that? Because he still hasn't yet shaken viewing Ashley as Leyley there. He still views her as a burden, as someone who needs taking care of. He's calmly accepted that, too, mind you, but he lacks respect for her because she's still a child, in his mind. But in Questionable?

The vision did more than just make him extremely embarrassed and lay his deepest desires bare. It forced him to recognize Ashley as an adult. When choosing between "Never" and "Never say never," if Never is chosen, the burden of thought is lifted off of him. But if Ashley chooses "Never say never!", he has to reckon with the fact that Ashley is an adult, someone who can consent to those kinds of things. Someone who MIGHT. Someone who has agency, and can make her own decisions. And more importantly… someone who can trust him to make his own.

Whether he desires sex or not is secondary; he's always had those feelings and has always been ashamed of them. But now that the part of him where that shame came from is dead and buried, there's no childish impulse to grow up. There's no attachment to the hate and bitterness he had before. Look at what he worries about when he picks up that she's uncertain or confused about who he is now:

​

It's her feelings.

He wants to be fun to be around. He wants to make Ashley happy. He loves her, and not as a romantic interest or even as a sibling. He loves her independent of all that baggage.

He loves her as a person.

Their relationship runs contrary to societal ideals in some pretty huge ways. So contrary, in fact, that it's hard for some to accept it as anything good, that it can ever be best for the people involved. It's incestuous. It involves them killing and eating their parents. It involves them distancing themselves so much from society that it's hard to believe they'll ever fit in it again. It's chaotic, it's messy, it's codependent, and maybe even toxic. And yet, here they are. They're coexisting. They're happy. They're healing. They're navigating the world in the only way they can: together.

Meanwhile, in Decay, Andrew refuses to allow himself to get closer to Ashley. He surrenders all agency to her, buys into his own narrative, drinks his own Kool-Aid, and may or may not condemn one or both of them to death in the process. Like it or not, the only path where Andrew takes ownership of his life is the one where he's closest to his sister. It's the one where he decides where they will go next, the one where he decides his own feelings matter, and acts in accordance with what he wants instead of how he thinks he should act.

His agency, his freedom, and his growth don't happen in spite of his codependency; they're happen because of it. They can't grow alone. They can't heal alone.

In reading the story, one must interrogate how important those societal ideals are in the face of the realities of what makes people happy. Are those ideals worth upholding in spite of this? Can we really allow people to fall through the cracks in the name of social norms? Can we blame people for taking rash actions when the social contract has failed them?

Or are we so blinded by those ideals that we can't see that people can be happy while blatantly disregarding them?

All I know is that in Burial, Andrew, having cast aside normalcy, now appears to be truly happy for the first time in his life.

Who are we to take that from him?

[ghoulangerlee]

gonna post this real quick before I go make dinner but; after seeing the movie Saturday, I went to bed, woke up and felt the urge to write this little thing.

RITE HERE RITE NOW SPOILERS - please do not read this if you haven't seen the movie and don't want to be spoiled

takes place shortly after the movie ends, a quiet moment with Copia and his ghouls.

---

“Frater,” Aether’s voice cuts through Copia’s haze of thoughts—he's staring down at the ornate desk in front of him, large and grand and all imposing; it had been Sister’s, her paperwork still neatly stacked on top of it—the dust barely settling before the cogs of the church shuffle him into her place.  

Copia blinks a few times, clearing his thoughts and turning to face the doorway; Aether’s there, just beyond the frame of it, and Dew behind him, both in uniform but sans masks, “Ah, you know there’s no need for the title—” he says, and the words sound harsh to him, “I’m just Copia.”  

Aether smiles, something soft and brittle as he comes further into the office, the one he’d been in numerous times before, previously, when Sister had been here still. “And there’s no doubt about that,” he says gently, stopping barely a foot away from Copia, “But, you also deserve the respect of the title.”  

He scoffs, tries to deflect, but Aether grabs his hands and pulls him closer until they’re standing toe to toe, “Don’t sell yourself short, Copia,” Aether says, firmer this time, a frown gathered in the corners of his lips.  

With a heavy sigh, Copia deflates just a little, turning his hands in Aether’s grasp so he can tangle their fingers together instead, “You’re right,” he says, it sounds wooden to his own ears, but his emotions have been all over the place since that night, since watching Sister collapse, since her... 

He doesn’t want to think about it, squeezes at Aether’s hands before finally letting them go and stepping back, putting space between them even though he wants nothing more than to fall into Aether’s arms and allow himself a moment to mourn.  

“I need to...clean things up in here,” Copia says softly, hesitantly, looking around at the packed shelves of books, the knickknacks spread around, small little hints at Sister’s own personality among the stuffiness of the church. “They’ll expect me to move offices, give mine to the new guy...” he trails off, feels a helplessness sort of settle in his stomach. 

He holds absolutely no interest in his current office, there’s nothing special about it beyond it being a room with four walls and a window that looks out over the courtyard. In his later years, he spent most of his time doing paperwork in his own room or in the ghoul den with his ghouls, or occasionally among the pews during services.  

It just feels wrong in a way, to move from one room to another with very little time to mourn the person who used to sit at the desk he’ll be placed at soon. Sure, there had been a service, a funeral, a proper burial, Sister Imperator laid to rest with the higher-ranking members of the clergy—with Nihil and his sons, just as she had wanted.  

It still settles sourly in his stomach.  

“Let us help,” Dew says, stepping up to the desk, running a delicate fingertip along the edge of it, “She was...different, from the others, you know. I dare say she actually respected us at the end,” he then picks up a pile of paperwork, shuffles through it, pausing a long moment before he admits, even quieter, “I miss her too.”  

Copia feels his heart clench tightly, an ache settling deep within him as he recalls the way all of the ghouls had gathered around her at the end, growling and hissing at anyone that had tried to get near her body, even as medical personnel loaded her onto a stretcher, the way Dew had pressed a kiss to his hand in the moments after, once he’d cried over her for several long minutes, murmuring how he and Rain would go with them to see that her body be properly taken care of.  

In that moment, Copia didn’t think much of it, the ghouls were his, they all shared a bond and knew what he needed intrinsically as if the very fiber of their beings were melded with his own—he didn’t think they were mourning her in the same way, just protecting her body because they knew what she’d meant to Copia.  

“Dewdrop,” Copia murmurs, and it’s all he can say as he slides an arm around his shoulders and pulls him into a side hug; he bows his head and rests it against Dew’s, eyes closed.  

Dew hums a bit, shifts in his hold until he can wrap both of his arms around Copia’s middle, still holding tightly to a handful of paperwork, typed neatly with Sister’s looping scrawl at the bottom.  

“I’m not sure when the shift happened, when I stopped resenting her for things and when I started caring about her instead,” Dew mumbles into the still somewhat stiff fabric of Copia’s new jacket.  

Copia laughs, somewhat wetly as he holds Dew tighter, pressing his face into his hair, “Probably around the same time I forgave her for leaving me to grow up alone,” he whispers, “She did her best, with what she had, I think. Raising me from afar. She didn’t want to be seen as weak. With her leading the church. I think. After becoming Papa and seeing how things were, that’s when I sort of got it. Understood why she did the things the way she did them.” He admits quietly, “She was a terrible mother, but an amazing leader.”  

Dew hums quietly in agreement, squeezes Copia just as tight, “She knew the church would be safe with you.” he whispers, sniffling softly, rubbing his cheek against Copia’s jacket, “Just like she knew the Papacy would be safe with you. Like she knew we would be safe with you.”  

He swears softly, closes his eyes tightly and tries not to think about the implications, all those years ago, of assigning three almost broken ghouls to his care while simultaneously making him the defacto leader of the Ghost project—she couldn’t have known then that he’d end up where he is now, back then, when she was still speaking to him in a clipped and firm tone.  

He doesn’t quite have it in him to dwell on that now, and he’s sure that later on, he’ll start looking back, overthink all of it until he’s worked himself up—old habits die hard, even with the new title and new responsibilities.  

“This has turned into a reminiscing session instead of a cleaning session,” Copia eventually mumbles, rubbing his own cheek against Dew’s hair before he pulls away, allows a moment to straighten himself out. “I think we should go through the paperwork first, it’ll be the easiest,” he tries to switch over to professional again, even though he still feels raw and painful inside. “We’ll worry about the rest of it later.”  

The silence settles over them for a moment as Copia’s direction sinks in, and Aether moves to collect some paperwork off of the desk, artfully bypassing Sister’s chair and taking a seat in one on the other side of the desk instead.  

A knock, a gentle rap of knuckles against the door frame and Copia looks up— 

The rest of the pack stand there, gathered just outside the door, as if waiting.  

“My ghouls, what is it?” He asks, briefly feeling concerned that something would bring them all to him. “Is something happening?”  

Swiss and Cirrus share a look but Cumulus is the one who steps forward, lets herself into the room, “We came to help,” she says, there’s a quiver in her voice as she speaks, one of pain and loss, “What can we do?”  

Copia’s eyes track from one ghoul to the other—Mountain, Cirrus, Cumulus, Rain, Sunshine, Swiss, Aurora and Aeon all standing there, waiting for their orders.  

He seems to snap out of it, shaking his head and motioning for them to come in, “Come to the desk, we’re working on sorting this for now,” he says—mountains of paperwork stacked everywhere on the wooden top.  

(Sometimes he wonders if this was the reason she seemed so stressed. He wonders what it means for him.)  

Quiet chatter fills the room as the others file in, standing close to talk while they sort through it all, piling all the things that can be filed away in one of the empty corners of the desk while the rest of it gets thrown into a trashcan to be shredded later.  

As they work, Copia glances up from the frankly concerning amount of tax forms he’d been tasked to sift through, doing a double take when he catches sight of her.  

In the furthest corner of the room, near the ornate fireplace stands Sister Imperator, her arms crossed over her chest as she watches the bustle of the room, the corners of her lips curved upwards in a small smile.  

Copia blinks several times, almost tempted to reach up and rub his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things—but then Sister, she looks over at him, her smile softening into something fond.  

I love you, she mouths, and then, flickers out of existence.  

[minniesmutt]

𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢: 𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫

♱ ━━━  PAIRING: OT8 X READER ♱ ━━━  CW: PANICKING, PREGNANCY, BLOOD, WEAPONS, MENTIONS OF DEATH, CRYING ♱ ━━━  WC: 2.5K

     It was news that Y/n didn’t know how to handle. She was already dealing with the emotions that she was now the only living member of her family and she was to be coordinated as Queen within a few days. Other royals were already on their way to the castle for her father’s burial. 

     Usually, the next in line for the throne would have months before taking the throne after the death of the previous. But it seemed the Kingdom had already seen their king as dead for a few years now and this would just be giving her an official title as Queen. Even a few other kingdoms could swear she was already queen and seemed elated that she was returning and taking the throne upon her return. 

     “Princess,” Changbin tried to grab her attention as she paced her room. 

     “I can’t take the thrown,” Y/n said, “I can’t!”

     “Hey,” Changbin caught her wrist and stopped her pacing, pulling her into his chest, “Calm down.”

     Changbin moved her to her bed and sat her down, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands, “Look at me darling,” Changbin said. 

     Y/n met his eyes and started tearing up, “I’m pregnant…”

     “You are. And one of us is the father.” Changbin’s voice was calm, hoping to keep her calm.

     “Oh my, I don’t know who the father is,” the tears streamed down her face. Changbin stood and sat next to her, pulling her into a hug on his lap. 

     “I’ve got you, darling,” Changbin whispered in her ear as he rubbed her back. Y/n cried into his shoulder.

     Changbin held her for hours until she stopped crying and was just tired. Her legs were thrown over his lap as she lay sideways against his chest.

     “Y/n,” Changbin called to her as she sniffled in response.

     A knock at the door stopped him from continuing. It wasn’t a small knock like the castle staff or advisors gave. It was urgent. Y/n didn’t have time to tell them to come in before the seven other vampires spilled into the room.

     “Apologies your Highness!” One of her maids’ voices came, “I told them to wait but they insisted on—”

     “It’s alright,” Y/n assured her before planting her legs back on the floor and standing from the vampire’s lap. Changbin kept an arm around her waist as the door closed.

     “What happened?” Felix questioned as he moved to stand in front of her, cupping her cheeks

     “We heard you crying when we arrived,” Seungmin added

     “You know how I hadn’t been feeling well since before leaving the manor?” Y/n asked

     “It has to do with your sickness?” Jeongin was worried

     Y/n took a shaky breath, “I’m pregnant.”

     The seven of them looked shocked. None of them truly thought they could get her pregnant.

     “I’m pregnant, I don’t know which one of you is the father, my father just died and I’m taking the throne in a matter of days,” The more she spoke, the more the tears started again.

     Felix was quick to pull her in for a hug. 

     “Chan, you’re the greater vampire, did you know this was possible?” Seungmin asked

     “Not for a human to get pregnant by a vampire. It’s more likely for two vampires to have a child,” Chan stated as Felix sat on the bed with the crying royal.

     Y/n managed to find the energy to forbid any staff from coming to her room the rest of the day and evening as they all sat in her room, trying to figure out who the father would be. Unless they were delivering food.

     They had to ask the maid who planted the possibility of pregnancy in her head if she knew how long it took for a baby to form. Once they had gotten that information, it was a matter of backtracking.

     The week they were talking about was a busy week. It was one of the few weeks that there was barely any time to be intimate. Y/n remembered only being with three of them that week. Minho, Changbin, and Seungmin . 

     “It has to be one of them then,” Jisung stated

     “Wouldn’t it narrow down to two? remember Minho coming here to collect the debt money at the beginning of the week and then he was gone from the manor the rest of the week?” Hyunjin asked

     “Y/n started coming with me on my trips here. She would stay in the carriage while I collected the money. Speaking of; the debt is fully paid off. They gave me the last of it when we arrived. King had some money stowed away.” 

     “Can’t get rid of you all now even if I wanted to.” Y/n sighed, it did not surprise her that her father had hidden money. But she had already planned on not leaving the vampires once the debt was paid and she had told them that the day after she talked to Chan a week ago. 

     “I remember pulling out when Y/n and I were together that week,” Seungmin said

     “I definitely came inside,” Changbin stated

     “So did I,” Minho added

     “So it’s between Minho and Changbin,” Chan said

     Y/n laid back on her bed. Exhausted from the thinking, her brain was going crazy and she had a million thoughts running through her head. 

     “Y/n, let’s get some air,” Jisung insisted before pulling her off the bed. Y/n leaned against him as he walked them to her balcony. Opening the door and stepping outside with her. The sky was dark now, she didn’t even know how long they had been deliberating who knocked her up. 

     But the night air felt good on her face and in her lungs. She placed her hands on the ledge as Jisung closed the door behind him. The vampire walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

     “It doesn’t matter which one of us is truly the father.” He said as he kissed her shoulder

     “It does for me. I’m carrying a child out of wedlock and sleeping with eight vampires,” Y/n sighed. 

     “If you weren’t about to be crowned Queen, would it matter?” Jisung asked as he turned her to him

     “It would. I’ve known women who are looked down on for having a bastard child. As a royal, I can’t imagine—“

     “Hey,” Jisung cut her off, “Do you want to have this child with us?”

     “All of you?” Y/n asked

     “Y/n, we all love you. If someone were to run a stake through our hearts or set us ablaze, we would die happy because we got to love you.”

     “How do you know the others feel like that?”

     “We talk when you’re asleep. But my point is, even though that baby only technically has one of us as a father, all eight of us are the father. We would raise them like they are all our baby.”

     “I love you too. All of you,” Y/n teared up as Jisung placed a kiss on her lips

     “Whatever the outcome, we’re here for you.”

     “Thank you Jisung,” Y/n smiled at him

     “Of course. Ready to go back in?”

     Y/n nodded before Jisung took her hand and brought them back inside. Y/n took her place back on her bed while the others kept up their discussion until they had finally concluded. 

     Minho was the father.

     The only worry Y/n had now was hiding the pregnancy. Lord knows the uproar it would cause. 

     “What if you married?” Hyunjin asked when Y/n started worrying again. 

     “Which one?” Y/n asked 

     “Why not all of us?” Felix suggested 

     “Princess, you don't have to,” Chan interjected, “You are still human compared to us. I don't think it would be fair—”

     “What if you turned me?” Y/n asked, all eight looking at her with wide eyes. 

     “Y/n that's a big ask…” Changbin said

     “But it's a win for all of us. We get to be together for eternity, none of you watch me grow old, I don't lose any of you.”

     “Yes but you’d be giving up your kingdom, you’ve seen just how much they hate us. If you turn, they’ll turn on you.” Minho pointed out.

     “Let’s call it a night,” Chan said before the discussion could go on any further.

     Everyone agreed and Chan stepped outside onto the balcony. Y/n sent the others to the guest rooms before grabbing her robe and slipping it on, joining the vampire outside. 

     “Chan…” Y/n called

     “Sorry Princess,” Chan sighed, “Just a lot to think about.”

     “I apologize for bringing up me becoming a vampire.” Y/n stood next to him against the railing. 

     “Don't apologize. I’d be lying if I said I'd never thought about it before,” Chan confessed and pulled her in front of him, arms moving around her frame 

     “You have?” Y/n asked 

     “For months now,” Chan replied, “Call me selfish but I never want to let you go but you should enjoy your human life.”

     “If something ever happens to me where my life is on the line, promise me you’ll turn me?”

     “Promise. Now let's get you to bed.”

     “Stay with me tonight?”

     “Of course my love.”

     Chan brought them inside and got her under the covers before joining her. Wrapping her in his arms and falling into a tranquil sleep with her. 

     Much needed as the next few days were a blur. Between the burial of her father which few spoke at, to the castle planning the coronation to the prep she had to do on her end, it was hectic. The staff was glad she was back though. 

     The vampires tried to stay out of the way as best they could. Catching stolen glances in the hallways and seeing her at night. Sometimes stealing her away for a few minutes for some kisses, which helped calm her down each time.

     On the day coronation, it was impossible to see her alone. Rather they waited with everyone else that had come to the castle to witness the beginning of a new reign. 

     Chatter filled the room. Everyone had arrived early to try and get the best spot to witness the crowning. The eight managed to get near the throne and hold their spot.

     At long last, the doors opened and the princess stepped in. Everyone fell silent as she made the journey to the throne. A priest from the church waited as two staff members held pillows holding the crown and the sceptre.

    A few murmurs were heard of how beautiful she looked as she made her way down to the throne. As she got up to the stairs to the platform the throne sat upon, one of the advisers was waiting to escort her up. The two exchanged a smile as she took his outstretched hand.

     Before he started to ascend the stairs with her, he quickly pulled out a blade and stabbed her lower stomach. Screams were heard across the room and panic broke. The adviser dropped her hand as Y/n slowly swayed. 

     Changbin had caught her before she fell as the guards rushed towards the throne. Many people were shouting treason and to arrest the man. The advisor drew a sword and pointed to the guards. Daring them to try and attack. 

     “It was for the sake of the kingdom!” he yelled amidst the chaos, “the vampires were trying to lay claim to the throne and got her pregnant!”

     His sword swung at Changbin and Y/n. The vampire moved them out of the way as Minho and his quick reflexes got the sword from him. Felix jumped to help bringing him to the ground as men, women, and children fled the room. 

     The adviser just laughed as the guards dragged him away. Changbin sat on the steps of the platform with Y/n in his arms as the others crowded around.

     “It’s a silver blade,” Seungmin said after attempting to pull it out, the hilt burning him. 

     “Handkerchief?” Felix asked as Hyunjin pulled one from his coat. 

     “This might hurt princess,” Felix warned her. Changbin and Jeongin offered her each a hand to squeeze. She held tight as Felix wrapped the cloth around the hilt and grabbed it. Gently pulled the sword out. Blood soaking the fabric of the dress.

     The vampires looked away as best they could from the blood but it still fueled their slight hunger. 

     “It cut deep,” Felix said as he finally got the blade out and put pressure on the open wound. 

     “I only hear one heartbeat now,” Jisung said 

     “He aimed to kill…” A tear slipped out of Y/n’s eye. Minho turned and Jisung went to handle him before his anger got the better of him. 

     “Princess,” Jeongin kneeled next to her and wiped her tears, “We need you to calm down before it gets worse. There is a lot of blood loss.”

     “How?” Y/n asked as more tears came down her face

     “Y/n, do you remember what I said the other night on the balcony?” Chan asked as he kneeled in front of her

     “If my life was on the line–”

     “I promised I would turn you.” Chan finished. 

     Chan was the only one of them that hadn’t bitten her. For the sake that his bite turned people into vampires. The people in town who willingly gave their blood to the eight would often sit and allow one of the nurses or doctors to take blood from them and then store it in vials for Chan. He didn’t want to risk turning someone on accident. 

     “Are you sure about this Chan?” Changbin asked 

     “Yes,” Chan replied as he moved the princess into his arms, “Are you sure this is what you want?” Chan asked once more 

     “Yes,” Y/n confirmed meekly. Blood loss getting to her

     The seven stood and watched. All of them had been bitten by Chan to be where they were. Chan took a deep breath as his fangs revealed themselves. Y/n tilted her head to the side for him as he sank his fangs into her. Y/n gasped and grabbed his jacket. 

     She couldn’t quite describe the difference between the others and Chan’s bite, but she knew there was one. She still felt an immense amount of pleasure and something in her seemed to change. When Chan pulled away, she still felt fatigued. But more in a hungry way.

     Chan still kept a grip on her as he finished a blood vial from his jacket. He opened the cork and brought it to her lips. The warm liquid spilled over her tongue. It was the sweetest thing she’d tasted at that point. 

     “Feeling alright Princess?” Chan asked 

     “Yeah,” Y/n smiled

     The rest rushed over and checked on her. Once the rest had confirmed with their own eyes that she was okay, they all hugged the other two. A few cried that she was okay. She was alive— kinda. But they didn’t lose her, and she was with them for eternity now.

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[prythianpages]

ACOSM | The Night she made Azriel lose control

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: angst, smut or at least my attempt at it lol

summary: Valeria is sparring with Cassian and Azriel when Rhysand invites her to the gathering of the High Lords of Prythian. The night is tortorous for Azriel, who can no longer hold himself back and finally gives in to his desire.

A/N: this is an imagine among my collection that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on them, you can find the masterlist for it here. This is my first time writing smut, which is why this took me forever to write. I even readchapter 55 of ACOMAF a couple of times again for "research purposes" lol Anyway, besides the smut, lots of stuff happen in this imagine and more ACOTAR characters make an appearance!

**

Valeria sat atop one of the training rings at the House of Wind as Noctis soared above her. In the brilliant sunlight, his dark wings glistened and she smiled at the sight. She always found joy in seeing him fly, his smaller scarred wing not deterring his perseverance.

She hummed a familiar melody and Noctis was quick to catch the tune, his beautiful song intertwining with hers. Setting aside the book Cassian had gifted her on Illyrian fighting techniques, Valeria perked up at the sound of another set of wings beating in the air.

It had been nearly half a year since the blood rite and Rhysand’s grand ball. So much had changed in that time. The news of two bastards and a half breed ascending to the title of Carynthian had sent shockwaves throughout Illyria, and perhaps even throughout most of Prythian. The revelation that both Cassian and Azriel were gifted with seven siphons each only added to the astonishment. Rhysand, too, had been gifted with siphons, though they had shattered, unable to contain his immense power.

Shortly after the grand ball, Cassian had returned to the Illyrian camp he was born, eager to reunite with his mother. Their separation had weighed heavily on his heart over the years and he had been looking forward to seeing her and taking care of her. However, when he arrived at the camp, he was met with devastating news. His mother was dead. The news had hit him like a physical blow and even more so when he found out the true nature of her death and lack of respect in burial. It left him reeling with an overwhelming grief and sorrow that quickly morphed into anger and a thirst of revenge. With the help of Rhysand and Azriel, they took revenge on his mother’s cruel death and destroyed the village, allowing only the truly innocent to live. 

The High Lord of the Night Court did not take lightly to their actions. Valeria suspected that the remarkable power they held posed a potential threat to her father, especially with Rhysand being his most likely heir. In the weeks that followed, the High Lord assigned Rhysand a growing number of responsibilities as his designated heir. He offered Azriel the role of spymaster–a proposition that didn’t leave him with much room for refusal. Cassian, on the other hand, had returned to Windhaven, and swiftly climbed the ranks, now commanding a small legion of his own.

With all the changes and increased duties, it came to a surprise to Valeria that Cassian remembered the promise he had made prior to the blood rite. She had diligently studied the book he had gifted her, mastering nearly every technique within its pages. She still did so behind her father’s back. It was not an easy task as he hovered over her for the first couple of weeks after her return to the Night Court. This made it challenging to discreetly train with the Valkyries as she enjoyed doing so. 

So Valeria dedicated herself to playing the role of a dutiful daughter with the hopes that it would divert her father’s attention from her training and secrets she held. It was a difficult one as he still held resentment toward her. She immersed herself in music, spending countless hours practicing her violin despite her preference for the piano. It paid off, as her father’s interest in her began to wane and as she resumed her violin lessons, she found it increasingly easier to slip away for her secret training sessions.

“Alright, little warrior.” Cassian grinned as he touched down in front of her, his wings tucked behind him. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Valeria smiled back at him, her eyes searching his face. She knew the past couple of months had been challenging for him yet he always managed a smile and optimistic attitude, masking the underlying sadness and grief he carried. He was one of the strongest people she knew–both physically and mentally.

“I didn’t get to train last week since I had an audition for a violin solo, so I’m a little rusty.” Valeria confessed as she patted the dust off her leathers.

“Did you get it?”

A spark of triumph glittered in her eyes as she replied. “Of course I did.” 

Cassian’s grin grew wider. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to push you harder this morning.”

The training grounds were bathed in the glow of the morning sun as Cassian and Valeria stepped onto the training ring. She looked up to him with determination in her eyes and Cassian respected her spirit as he began to wrap his hands. “Let’s practice without weapons first and focus on hand to hand combat which is about…”

“Control, balance and swift strikes.” Valeria answered, reciting an excerpt from the book word for word and wrapping her own hands to prepare for sparring.

“Yes.” Cassian nodded at her as he stepped into a defensive stance. “Watch me closely and then we’ll practice together.”

He demonstrated a sequence of moves, fluidly shifting from one stand to another. Valeria followed his every move, memorizing the steps.

“I know you’ve already had some training with this but let’s start with the basics again. I’m going to make a move and you try to block or evade it.”

Cassian then made the first move, a precise jab toward her shoulder. Valeria reacted quickly, dodging the blow with ease and responding with a counterpunch. Cassian deftly blocked her attack, impressed with her reflexes.

“Good.” Cassian said with another nod of approval. “Keep that focus and speed.”

They continued the training session as Noctis watched, perched on one of the punching dummies nearby, his sharp eyes on his beloved keeper. As always, Cassian was patient in training Valeria. He showed her how to anticipate her opponent’s moves, find openings in their defenses and land precise strikes. Valeria was a quick learner and with each round of practice, her confidence grew.

As they exchanged blows, Valeria saw an opportunity. Her speed and precision was nearly overwhelming, catching the seasoned Illyrian warrior by surprise for a faltering moment. Just when it seemed like Valeria was gaining the upper hand, he intentionally left himself open. Valeria, driven by the thrill of the movement, lunged forward with a punch. Her first met its target but Cassian, with a wly grin, grabbed her arm and twisted, sending her tumbling to the ground.

She landed on her back with a huff, her chest heaving from exertion.

“Never underestimate your opponent.”

Cassian’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked down at her. She was already drenched in sweat, her muscles aching and struggling to catch her breath. He held his hand out toward her which she begrudgingly took. He did not look nearly as winded as her.

 “Now, get up, my little warrior. We’re not done quite yet.”

“Not done?” Valeria echoed in dramatic horror.

“It’s my turn now.”

Valeria’s head whipped around, feeling dizzy for a moment, but her eyes quickly found their way to the hazel ones she had missed so dearly.

Azriel. 

He was also dressed in his Illyrian leathers, his cobalt blue siphons catching the sunlight. His presence, as always, made her heart flutter. The longing she felt for his company was undeniable.  She hadn’t seen him in weeks. He was preoccupied with the duties her father assigned to him and if it wasn’t the High Lord calling upon him, it was Rhysand, leaving little room for private moments together.

Cassian and Azriel exchanged nods in silent greeting. Azriel then turned to her, his lips curving into a smirk. His eyes raked over her form as his shadows swirled around him in excitement and his large wings unfurled behind him. He looked at her with a mixture of pride and a hint of longing.

She felt like he was undressing her with his eyes.

“Cauldron boil me,” Valeria cursed under her breath.

Cassian chuckled.

Azriel maintained his composed demeanor and gaze fixed on her, his smirk remaining unfaltering. He, too, had likely heard her choice of words and judging by the way his shadows whirled around him, he must’ve sensed the hidden meaning behind them.

He finally took his eyes off of her as he approached the weapons vault. “Where are you in your training with the Valkyries?”

Valeria considered the question for a moment before replying, "We've moved on to sparring with actual weapons."

Azriel's hazel eyes lit up with interest as he selected two swords from the vault, flinging one of them toward her. Valeria caught it with ease, though with a slight frown.

She much preferred daintier weapons such as a dagger or her whip. Zeila, her valkyrie trainer, had rewarded her with the elegant rope-like weapon for her remarkable progress. Crafted from pure silver and adorned with moonstone gems, it matched the necklace around her neck.

At first glance, it appeared delicate, but when the moonstone gems were ignited by her power, it became a dangerous weapon capable of burning through those who dared to cross her. Valeria had glamored the whip to resemble a wrap-around bracelet when not in use.

Azriel and Valeria stood facing each other, a palpable tension filling the air as Cassian sat on a bench nearby and watched. Much to his dismay, Noctis made himself comfortable atop of his head.

Valeria was the first to make a move, moving with a fluidity that surprised him. As they sparred, Valeria showed off her skills, seamlessly combining the precise strikes of the Valkyries with the fierce, aggressive style of the Illyrians. Azriel observed with growing admiration, impressed by her quick adaptation and her ability to execute the intricate maneuvers.

Their swords clashed, the sound ringing through the rooftop, and with a deft flick of his wrist, he managed to disarm Valeria. His experience and training outmatched hers but Valeria was not one to give up easily. 

In a swift and practiced motion, she extended her arm, bringing the rope-like weapon to life. Azriel’s eyes widened for a flickering moment as he readied his sword but Valeria was too fast for him. Within seconds, her whip wrapped around Azriel’s wrist, forcing him to release his sword, the sharp piece of steel clattering to the ground. She grinned triumphantly as Cassian whistled in approval.

Azriel stumbled back, momentarily disarmed, until he saw an opportunity and seized it. He took advantage of the weapon wrapped around his wrist and pulled on it, throwing her off balance, sending Valeria stumbling forward. She was not able to catch her footing on time and both her and Azriel tumbled onto the ground.

Azriel swiftly gained the upper hand, pinning both her wrists by her head as he straddled her. He smirked down at her. "I got you."

Her violet eyes glittered back up at him and then she was shifting her hips up, wrapping her arms around his torso. She trapped his legs with her own and mustered up all the strength she could to roll over just as Cassian had taught her. One moment Azriel had been straddling her and in the next moment, it was Valeria hovering over him. The dagger that had been strapped to her thigh was now pressed against his neck.

“Never underestimate your opponent.” Valeria said, her voice breathless but triumphant as she quoted Cassian's words from earlier.

Azriel blinked back up at her, his pupils dilated. His gaze flickered down to her lips before locking with her gaze. Blood rushed up to her cheeks as she remembered the last time she had straddled him. It seemed so long ago and just as it had before they shared their first kiss, the world around them faded into the background, leaving just the two of them. She dared to lean down–

A boisterous laugh shattered their trance, snapping them back to reality.

Valeria removed herself from Azriel. He was the first to get up, offering his scarred hand to her. His shadows slithered down his arms and toward her, reaching out to caress her face in a way he yearned to himself as he pulled her up with him. They turned to an amused Cassian who offered a round of applause for Valeria.

“I’m so proud of you.” He told her. “Keep it up and you’ll be a Valkyrie in no time.”

Valeria’s heart swelled. “You really think they’d let me in?”

“Of course.” It was Azriel who replied.

She was smiling at the two Illyrian warriors when she felt a talon gently caress her mind. She allowed her brother in, who wanted to know where she was. Her smile fell and the two males looked at her in concern.

“Rhys is coming,” she said in warning at the same time she gave her brother her location.

With practiced ease, Valeria used her powers to glamor and remove the telltale signs of her recent training session–the sweat-soaked training gear and leathers were replaced with a simple black dress.  Noctis returned to his usual place on her shoulder. She had just enough time to glamor Cassian and Azriel as well to paint out the illusion of them sparring.

Rhysand was still unaware of her extensive training as she had sworn both males to secrecy. While her brother did keep his promise in teaching her how to use the dagger they all gifted her, it was nowhere near enough to explain the advanced skills she had just displayed. 

Azriel glanced down at his shirtless body and arched an eyebrow at her. A devious glint flickered in her eye as she smirked back at him with an appreciative gaze. The tattoos adorning his upper body, a mark of his emergence as a true warrior from the Blood Rite, were a sight to behold. She wondered for a brief moment what it would be like to kiss them as she dangerously trailed her way down…

Cassian seemed to be unfazed by his shirtless form, picking up the sword Valeria had been using, eager to get into character.

Rhysand emerged from a cloud of swirling darkness. He smiled fondly at Valeria in greeting before acknowledging his two closest friends. “I didn’t know you two were sparring today,” he commented.

Cassian responded with a cheeky grin, "Just releasing some pent-up frustration, Rhys." He turned to Azriel, a cryptic look in his eyes, sensing something in the Shadowsinger he was strangely familiar with. "Right, Az?"

"Without me?" Rhysand teased.

Azriel glared at Cassian before turning to Rhysand. "I'm sure Cass still has energy."

Rhysand's brows furrowed. He chose to brush off their strange behavior, not wanting to delve into it further. "It's alright," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm actually here for Val."

Valeria turned to him, her curiosity piqued.

"I need you to be ready by dinner. The High Lords are gathering at the Moonstone Palace for dinner, and Father requests our presence."

Valeria's eyes narrowed as she met her brother's gaze. She had her doubts that it was truly her father who had called for her presence, and judging by Rhysand's cheeky grin, she knew he had played a role in her being allowed to attend. Despite her skepticism, she nodded in agreement.

"I'll be ready."

**

The dinner among the High Lords of Pyrthian, their families and entourage was uneventful save for the mention of growing unrest between the mortals and fae. There were reports of some fae enslaving mortals–a matter that had drawn the attention of the High Lords.

Surprisingly, the High Lord of the Night Court appeared indifferent to Valeria’s presence at the dinner. A small victory.

Though she couldn't shake the feeling of being the odd one out as she was the only daughter to a High Lord present. She was grateful for Rhysand and Azriel, who sat on either side of her as Noctis–her usual companion–had to stay behind. Cerridwen and Nuala offered to take care of him for the night.

The two males beside her watched over her, their protective presence enough to deter any unwarranted attention from the other attendees, especially the eldest sons of the Autumn and Spring court. Mor and her family were also present at the dinner, the first offering Valeria a sense of familiarity and warmth, but unfortunately, she sat far from her.

As the dinner came to a close, her mother, who sat across from her, sent Valeria a reassuring smile. With the main meal completed, the guests began to disperse into smaller groups, with alcohol and light desserts served for those who remained. Valeria took a moment to collect herself, her violin resting on a soft chair nearby. She picked it up and positioned it with care, knowing that her presence at the dinner came at a cost – the entertainment she could provide with her violin.

With a sigh, she began to play, the graceful notes of her violin filling the room and carrying a sense of melancholy and beauty. The Night Court’s orchestra arrived, a couple of songs later, providing a welcome respite. She smiled at them in greeting and they regarded her warmly, having grown fond of her over the past six months.

“That was excellent.” A voice praised.

Valeria looked up, eyes widening as they landed on the High Lord of the Dawn Court. Thesan. His aura radiated like gold, his brown skin and hair kissed with the permanent brilliance of sunrise. 

“You’ve grown into a wonderful young lady.” His gaze was warm as he regarded her. He remembered the last time he had seen her, when she was just six years old.

 Valeria recalled the memory clearly as it had been a slightly embarrassing incident when she had injured herself after chasing Rhysand around. He had snatched the last lemon cake and laughed in her face. Thesan had been the one to heal her injured elbow with a gentle touch while her father glared at her. She wondered if her father had also been embarrassed by her behavior that night as she hadn’t been allowed to attend a High Lord gathering until tonight.

“Thank you.” Valeria replied, her head bowed in appreciation.

“I’m sure your father is proud.” Thesan added, casting a meaningful glance toward her father, who had now joined them.

His gaze, though still somewhat distant, was not as cold as he regarded his daughter.

“She has an upcoming solo in a month.”

Valeria blinked at her father, surprise etched on her features. 

“What a shame,” Thesan lamented, his tone sincere. “I’m hosting a celebration for my Peregryns in a month. I would’ve loved for you to play for them.”

Valeria’s father hummed and she picked up on the hint. She excused herself politely. Though she knew her father’s attitude was likely a result of Thesan’s presence, she couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope at his acknowledgement.

Valeria made her way to the desserts table, gravitating toward the chocolate covered fruit. As she savored the delightful taste of a chocolate covered strawberry, her gaze swept the room, searching for her brother amidst the sea of faces.

“Well, aren’t you a lovely little sweet.”

Startled by the sudden presence behind her, she jumped slightly before turning her head to find the source of the voice. Her gaze fell upon a red-haired male, whose amber eyes watched her intently. He held an air of arrogance and entitlement as he extended his hand toward her.

“Would you care to dance?” He inclined his head to his left, where couples where swaying to the music.

“I’m busy.” Valeria replied, referring to the dessert in her hand.

She glared as he plucked the strawberry from her hand and popped the remaining piece into his mouth, all while sporting a smirk that seemed to mock her. He took her hand, without asking again, and led her to the dance floor.

His hand rested dangerously low against her back and was hot as it met her bare skin. The dress she chose tonight was a blue mermaid gown with a plunging neckline and open back design to accommodate her wings but she had chosen to glamor them.

There was a fire in his eyes as he looked over her and Valeria’s lips curled into a smirk of her own. She had seldom experienced the sensation of being desired. The Illyrians in Windhaven had steered clear of her after her fling with Damien–if one could even call it that. The three Illyrian males in her life were fiercely protective, effectively warding off any potential suitors.

But here, things were different.

Though her heart longed for the desire of a specific male, she couldn’t deny the pleasure of feeling desired by others.

At that moment, recognition dawned on Valeria. The devilishly handsome male dancing with her was the eldest son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court and if the rumors in Prythian were true, he was in search of a bride.

“You must be Eris.” She said, her tone cool and composed.

The fire in his amber eyes was unyielding as he spun her around. His movements pressed her back against his chest, and he leaned down, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered: “I’m honored you know my name, sweets.”

With a twist, he spun her back around to face him, catching the crinkle of her nose in response to his nickname with a dark chuckle.

“It’s Valeria to you.” She corrected him with a firm tone.

Eris paused, his eyes set ablaze at the challenge, as he teased her further. “Valeria Vanserra has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Valeria couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. When she opened her mouth to offer another sly retort, another voice beat her to it.

**

The entire night was torture for Azriel.

It all started when he spotted Valeria in a striking dark blue fitted gown that hugged her every curve and exposed so much of her pretty sun kissed skin– Gods, she was beautiful.

He wanted nothing more than to trace her curves and exposed skin with his hands while he tasted her pretty lips once more. He almost had this morning after sparring with her.

A warmth surged through him, almost as if he were staking a delusional claim, as he noticed the necklace he gifted her was wrapped sweetly around her neck, the moonstone gem resting right at the curves of her chest.

It had been hard for him to part from her side after dinner. He wanted to be the one to walk with her, dance with her. The desire to take her away and have her to himself was overwhelming but he could not afford to give in to it. He was bound by the High Lord’s orders, hovering around with his shadows dispersed, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity. He spared a couple of shadows to accompany Valeria, instructing them to keep a low profile with her and reach out to him immediately if anyone that wasn’t Rhysand or her mother touched her.

The torture had escalated with each passing moment as he noticed the increasing looks of interest sent her way. He had to summon every ounce of strength to keep his jealousy at bay, especially when he noticed that Valeria had attracted the attention of a red-haired male.

Eris, heir to the Autumn court, his shadows happily filled in for him.

He watched with a tensed resolve, concealing the jealousy in his eyes behind the usual fierce and protective mask he wore. His gaze was unwavering as the Autumn Court male held her close, danced with her and when he made her laugh, he decided that was it.

He was going to intervene. Perhaps, he would start by ripping the smirk off of Eris’s face...

**

“Eris.”

Valeria found herself being pulled away and into the chest of another. A protective arm wrapped around her shoulders and she looked up to find her brother–his actions betraying the cool and measured demeanor on his face.

Eris’s smirk widened, picking up on Rhysand’s frustration. “I can see why you keep her hidden now.”

“Stay away from my sister.”

Rhysand’s glare was not enough to communicate his disapproval of Eris’s sudden and unwelcome interest in his sister. He didn’t bother with formalities and without saying another word, he pulled her away from Eris.

Leaning in closer to Valeria, Rhysand spoke in a hushed voice. “I have someone I want you to meet,” he whispered as he guided her through the crowded gathering.

Valeria followed her brother, oblivious to the Shadowsinger that had been moments away from tearing the heir to the Autumn court into pieces. She was curious and somewhat relieved to leave behind the tense encounter with Eris, wondering why the Cauldron had decided to bestow Prythian with its fair share of wicked sons.

But perhaps not all of Prythian’s sons were wicked, she found herself thinking as Rhysand introduced her to a quiet blond male. He appeared around her age. His green eyes were innocent and kind–a dark contrast to his older brothers, who had glared at her during dinner earlier.

His name was Tamlin and a light blush rose to his cheeks as Valeria smiled at him.

**

Finally, in the comforts of her room, Valeria let out a sigh of relief as she leaned back against her door.

The night had been a hurricane of emotions from all the interactions she had, some were welcomed and others draining. She had ended her night with Mor, who was finally able to escape from the grasps of her family as Eris and his father approached Keir. Rhysand had to unfortunately leave early. Their father wanted him to check up on a growing conflict between Windhaven and a neighboring camp first thing in the morning so he thought it’d be best if he stayed the night at their house in Windhaven.

Valeria made her way to her vanity, seating herself upon the cushion of its bench. She slowly unraveled her bun, allowing her long dark hair to fall into a sea of ebony waves.

She unclasped her earrings next and as she went to unclasp her necklace, her eyes widened with alarm at the figure she caught behind her in the reflection from the vanity’s mirror. She abruptly stood from her seat, her initial shock giving way and gaze softening as she recognized the figure.

“By the cauldron, Azriel, you nearly gave me a heart attack!“

Azriel was behind her within seconds and she caught sight of his heated gaze through the mirror. “My sentiments exactly,” he told her, his fingers brushing the thin strap of her dress. He rejoiced in the way it easily fell from her shoulders. “When I saw you wearing this dress.”

“I wore it for you.” Valeria confessed as heat rose to her cheeks. The blue shade of her dress perfectly matched his siphons.

“Is that so?” He hummed, his gaze not leaving her bare back. 

He knew it was wrong to look at her the way he did. He knew that Rhysand would kill him if he saw the intent in his eyes but he had waited so long–six excruciating months– to finally have Valeria alone again and his shadows screamed at him to give in and seize the opportunity.

His hand then lightly grazed her back, tracing along the spot where her wings usually rested. Valeria shivered at his touch.

She turned around to face him and their eyes met, unspoken words between them as tension filled the air.

Tension that had sparked between them since their first kiss. Tension that had lingered, waiting for the right kindling to ignite it once more. Tension that was set alight by their sparring this morning and no longer impossible to ignore...

And then their lips were desperately crashing into each other in a heated kiss.

They pulled each other close until their bodies were flush against one another, his shadows enveloping around the both of them. With Valeria’s arms wrapped around his neck, she slid her fingers through his soft dark hair and his slid to her hips, hoisting her up onto her vanity. Her legs instantly wrapped themselves around his waist and she pulled him even closer. He groaned and she felt him harden against her, making heat pool in her stomach.

He broke away from the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. His eyes were closed, his breathing fast and sharp. “Val,” he breathed her name so heavenly, despite the slight tremble in his body. “If we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to hold myself back.”

She knew she should stop him as they were both walking among a fine line but she couldn’t bring herself to. Not when Azriel was looking at her like she was the one who placed the stars in the sky.

“Good thing,” Valeria began, nudging her nose softly against his. “I don’t want you to stop.”

That was all the confirmation Azriel needed before he picked her up and placed her onto her bed. He was then claiming her lips again, darting his tongue along her bottom lip and she parted her lips for him, groaning into his mouth as his tongue caressed hers.

Azriel broke from the kiss and pulled on the dress that had left little to the imagination and an insatiable thirst to see more. He was filled with a desperate desire to feel all of her against him. She arched into him, allowing him to undo the delicate laces and slide her dress off in one motion. He would’ve ripped it off her, if it hadn’t been one of her mother’s designs. 

His breath hitched as he hovered over her, appreciating her beauty–the sight of her almost bare before him. Her moonstone necklace shimmered and was nestled deliciously right above her exposed breasts. “Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed, allowing his shadows to caress her breasts, rejoicing in the way she shivered with pleasure. 

She let out a moan as he lowered his mouth to one of her breasts and sucked on it, his tongue flicking against her nipple while his shadows continued to caress the other.

“Azriel.”

“Tell me,” he murmured against her soft skin. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to be yours.” She breathed in reply. 

He nearly moaned at her words, rapidly losing his resolve as the scent of her arousal hit him then. She pulled on his leathers, a silent request to take them off. He complied, disposing of his clothing until he was bare before her, his siphons landing on the floor with a thud. His cock sprang free, no longer restrained by his leathers and he took delight in the way her eyes grew wide, taken aback by his considerable length before they trailed their way up to the intricate tattoos on his chest.

Valeria wanted to kiss along his tattoos as she had desired to earlier in the morning but when she moved to sit up, Azriel stopped her. He pinned her back to the bed with a low growl. Her bare skin was so warm against his.

“You’re all mine.” He told her, echoing her wish from just moments ago, and then was grinding his hips against her clothed core in a teasing manner.

His lips trailed down her stomach until he hovered over the place she desperately needed him. He looked up once more at her. Although he told her he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back, he still sought her permission. 

She gave a nod and he smirked at her.

“Words.” He teased her, brushing his nose against her core as her arousal flooded him, overwhelming all his senses. His eyes and the shadows around him darkened.  “I need your words.”

“I need you.” 

He tutted, not entirely satisfied. “Need me where?”

“By the cauldron Azriel, I need you to fuck me.” She cried out desperately, her words making his cock throb almost painfully and before he could tease her further, she added: “With your tongue, fingers, cock. Do as you wish, I’m all yours."

“Gods, you have such a dirty mouth on you.” He replied as he slid her underwear off, imagining all the things her dirty mouth was capable of. He hooked her legs to rest on either side of his shoulders. “Where did you learn such vulgar things?”

Books, she had meant to reply but she was set ablaze and at a loss for words at the first lick of his tongue. A soft whimper escaped from her and he unleashed himself, eagerly devouring her and drawing out more moans that were like music to his ears. Her fingers found themselves entangled in his hair again and she writhed beneath him. Azriel placed a firm grip on her hips, smirking against her as her thighs trembled against him. He could tell she was close. 

Wanting nothing more than to hear her lose herself completely to him, he slid his tongue into her and allowed his shadows to caress her everywhere, wanting to touch every inch of her skin and discover her most sensitive areas. Her breasts, her neck, her clit. 

“Azriel.”

Another low growl erupted from deep in his chest at the way she moaned his name. It was lovely and it felt so right.

“Come on, princess.” He purred, pressing a kiss to her clit before kissing his way up her thigh. He replaced his tongue with his finger, slowly easing his way with one until eventually, he was pumping two inside her. He left trails of her essence all over her body as he continued to make his way up. “Let go for me.”

Azriel’s lips were pressed against her neck when the heat pooled in her stomach tightened and then her core was pulsing around his fingers as she came, waves of pleasure flooding all of her senses. He pulled away from her neck, watching as her body arched into his and trembled with a soft glow. 

Azriel had never beheld anything more exquisite than this–than her coming apart under his touch. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, engraving the sweet image into his mind. An image that he would savor for centuries.

A finger traced over the sensitive curve of his wing, pulling him out of his trance and it was his turn to moan her name. He felt her other hand on his cheek and he leaned in to it, savoring her touch. He allowed her to take control for a moment as she guided his lips to hers. She could taste herself on his lips.

Another whimper escaped from him, his eyes fluttering close when he felt her finger brush the curve of his wing again. Her movements were agonizingly slow as she trailed her finger down and his breath hitched as they brushed against his hard length before wrapping themselves around it. He placed his hand over hers before she could continue. She had barely touch him but he could feel his release quickening already.

When he opened his eyes, his pupils were blown, their darkness honing in on her. A darkness she wanted to dive further into. “Please.” Valeria begged against his lips. 

His forehead rested against hers and his breath fanned her face. He knew what she was asking for but there would be no going back from this. He wanted to make sure that she still wanted this, still wanted him.

“Are you sure?” He pulled away from her lips to allow her to answer, leaning his cheek against her hand once more, his eyes looking straight into hers.

“Yes.” Her voice was so sure as she held his gaze. It caused something in his chest to rise and flutter madly. “I want you to be my first.”

Overwhelmed by the surge of emotions, he found himself unable to suppress his feelings. Yes, he desired her, but it went beyond physical attraction. He yearned for more than just her body. He desperately and selfishly wanted her heart too.

“I don’t just want to be your first.” He told her, pressing a soft kiss into the palm of her hand. “I want to be the only one.”

“Yes, yes.” She nodded her head at him and though her eyes were clouded with lust, she genuinely meant it. She yearned to be his and his only. Heart and soul. “You’re all I can think about.”

“Gods, you’ll be my ruin.” He uttered a sigh as he fisted his cock. He rubbed his length along her entrance, coating it with her arousal before sliding the tip in.

Valeria let out a gasp as he slowly pushed himself further. His hands found hers, intertwining their fingers together and resting them on either side of her head. He sweetly kissed the tears from her eyes and stilled inside her, allowing her to adjust to his size. Blood pounded through his body, his heart surging with fervor as she felt so heavenly wrapped around him tightly. 

He’d imagined this moment before, on nights where his thoughts were consumed with her. He’d imagine what noises she’d make, what she’d feel like, how she’d beg for him. To finally have her like this, it surpassed his wildest dreams. 

And when she was begging for him to move, he happily obliged. 

“You’re taking me so well.” He praised as he thrusted into her, slow and hard, all the way until his hips were flushed against hers. "Fuck, you're so perfect."

  His thrusts grew quicker and harder, his shadows frenzied around him as he continued to draw out her pleasure. She was a sobbing mess beneath him. When he felt her pulsing around him, he sent a shadow to rub against her clit while his lips claimed hers. She moaned lewdly into his mouth.

His pace picked up, pounding into her mercilessly as their scents merged as one. His grip on her hands tightened as his hips stuttered into her. She tilted her head back, their kiss now all tongue and barely lips as she tightened around him.

Release tore through their bodies and when their eyes met, they were a beautiful and panting mess.

Through the window, the moon's soft embrace casted a gentle glow, illuminating her face as his shadows lingered behind him, admiring her beauty. She was the radiant light, and he, the comforting darkness. They existed in an unspoken unity.

She held his heart, and he, unreservedly, belonged to her.

***

tag list:  @justrepostandlove , @kemillyfreitas, @thelov3lybookworm

a/n: I was inspired by a comment @kemillyfreitas made on one of the imagines and decided that if her father won't show her love, at least Thesan will. I have a soft spot for the high lord of dawn <3

I contemplated so much about this moment between Az and Val because it was definitely going to happen. It was just a matter of when. I wanted to save it for the actual storyline but ultimately, thought it was best for it to happen much sooner. They are aware that there's something special between them (Az more so than Val) but instead of letting words/reason guide them, they're being guided by their feelings and desire. also, if things are unclear or you would like clarification on some things, feel free to ask. I'll answer them happily!

songs I listened to while writing this on repeat: kingdom fall by claire wyndham, i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys if you couldn't tell by the dialogue lol, feels like by gracia abrahams. I did make a playlist for songs I listen to while I write. I want to incorporate some of the lyrics into the imagines.

[arcane-ish]

Can I just nag a little?

I see a lot of people comparing Vi hitting Powder with Caitlyn hitting Vi.

And I get it and all, but I gotta, say, I can't get in the mood for "zomg, the parallels!!!" because those are fundamentally not the same thing.

Particularly when it is used in the context of CaitVi shippers going that people shouldn't take this scene too seriously because it's just there to parallel that scene with Powder (for the record: I think you shouldn't take that scene too seriously, because I ship a lot of ships that came a lot closer to killing each other, like Timebomb or Zaundads).

To me that whole point of that scene is that Vi regrets it, instantly, visibly. Even while in front of Powder stil. She's immediately shocked at herself (first pic), she sheds a tear (second pic) and of course she runs off where we can see her bawl (yes admittedly likely as a cross over grief over her family and grief over hitting Powder).

That is not the same thing as "Cait's expression maybe marginally changes before she goes off to attend a family clan meeting and get elected martial law general".

And look, it's not necessary for the scenes to be that similar and for the characters to react that similarly considering Cait and Vi are very different people. And yes the visual parallels are still there even if the scenes are very different.

But yeah, to me the feel of these scenes are just so different on the "perpetrator" side. For Vi the drama of her family's death is visceral and immediate, it literally just happened rather than after a funeral and burial. Her slap is born out of emotion. Her regret is immediate. Compared to that Caitlyn's pushing away is a lot more deliberate and after a process. If it's because of her mother's death then it's because that had time to simmer.

I get that the parallels are supposed to be more on the Vi side, but I guess it just feels uncomfortable to me. Because Vi already immediately regretted it and spent years wracked with guilt about it, so it's not like she needs the "teaching" moment of what it feels like to be on the receiving end to feel bad about it.

That said, maybe the "teaching" moment is going to be the handling of it. Vi has lost everything, feels guilt and based on the trailers goes on a downward spiral. Maybe it is supposed to teach Vi something about coping mechanisms, to understand better how Jinx came to be.

Because Vi is mirroring Jinx:

changing her hair color

hallucinating

taking an new name/title (Hound of the Underground)

taking on a new, more violent persona

(I assume somebody has already made a gif/picture set about that, right? From disappointment to coping mechanism, from one sister to the next?)

So maybe that moment is more about setting up something for Jinx and Vi to bond over than to set something up about Cait and Vi (despite the heavy CaitVi vibes of the emo!Vi sneak peak)

[spiribia]

in high school I placeholder titled a personal essay rough draft “put me in the dirt” because I was sure my friend sitting next to me would be the one workshopping it, but it ended up going to someone else, and they were like wow, what’s the title mean, like you’re a seed with the potential to grow, or are you dead? or is it both, like you inspire new growth though your burial? That really stuck out to me because I’d just meant it in a 2010s tumblr self deprecating Belongs in the trash way and also I’d been thinking of that “slurp on my gurt cause you know it’s purp. put me in the dirt. put me in a shirt” post. poignancy to be found anywhere I suppose

[cutedice]

i could have a headcannon on the monster + ace trio with a s/o who died in the battle and when they come back in boat their kid comes up and says "where's mommy?? she said we'll be playing dolls when she comes back !!☹️"

((ooooh this one hurt. Thanks for requestin!!))

Telling Your Kid You're Gone

Characters: Warnings: Death (reader dies), angst, mentions of violence

Fem!Reader, Feminine Titles used "mama, mom, etc..."

LUFFY

- He watched it happen. 

- He watched the bastard that killed you commit the crime. 

- And he couldn’t do anything to stop it. 

- It was devastating. Flashes of other people he loved vanishing just out of reach filled his head. Sudden grief filled his heart, and he couldn’t hold back the brutal beating the guy had coming.

- He held your dead body for a while and made sure you had a burial. He wasn’t going just to leave you. He wanted to give you a proper one at sea, something beautiful. 

- He brought you back with him and Franky was quick to start setting something up while Chopper and Robin prepped you.

- He went off to do his own important task. He finds your daughter in the kitchen doodling at the table and singing. 

- She does look a lot like you when he looks at her.

- She looks over, excited for a moment before she pouts. “Aw it’s just daddy,” she stuck her tongue out. “I want mommy! Where’s she?”

- Luffy chuckled, walking over and pinching her cheeks. “Am I not good enough?” he asked her, pulling as she whine in annoyance. He stopped shortly after though and crouched down. Tears were already building in his eyes. And, he’s never been subtle, but he almost wants to try for her.

- Still, he tries to speak. Once, then twice, and finally he pulls her into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he says, still smiling just a bit, “(Y/N)’s gone away. She won’t be back.”

- The girl doesn’t mind the hug, but she leans back to take Luffy’s face into her tiny hands. “Quit crying! I don’t like crying!” she exclaimed.

- “It’s okay to cry,” Luffy argued as she stretched his face in revenge for the earlier treatment. “I just miss her a lot!”

- Your daughter nods and huffs. “I miss mommy too!” she decided with another nod before she squeezed Luffy tight. “Is she really nod gonna come back? Not even to visit?”

- It broke his heart to tell her no.

ZORO

- Damn.

- He sat on the ground, covered in blood, next to your motionless body.

- You looked so peaceful and content.

- He was all for going out in battle, so the fact you died fighting until the end made him unbelievably happy in one way.

- It also left him feeling empty and lost.

- ‘More than usual?’ 

- He could imagine you saying something like that, and it almost made him laugh.

- He cried a handful of times in his life, and he swore he wouldn’t ever again after the fight with Mihawk. But tears just kept falling against his will. 

- So, he sat. Silently crying and deeply wounded. 

- He eventually called the others with him over once the tears had finished and his aching heart settled for the time. They helped him give you a proper burial, something quick, but it meant a lot to him.

- Once he returned to the ship, he headed for the library in search of his daughter. Robin was left in charge, and he figured that’d be his best bet in locating her. 

- He asked Robin to leave, which she did after a moment, patting Zoro on the shoulder before she gave them privacy.

- “Dad?” your daughter asked, looking at him curiously.

- “Hey,” he greeted, walking over and patting her head before he sat down with a small sigh. “I’ve got some news.”

- He told her honestly what happened, sugarcoating a few things, but he let her know about you and your brave sacrifice. And he was there for her as she cried into him.

- If anything, he was happy she was still alive. He would give anything to keep her from experiencing that loss again, as she became his world as they lost you.

SANJI

- “(Y/N)!”

- He screamed your name. He watched the sword go through you in complete terror. 

- It all happened so fast, yet so slowly. The battlefield felt frozen at the moment. 

- He moved fast, kicking the man away that dared to hurt you. No one even saw where he went. For all they knew, Sanji kicked him hard enough to make him disappear. 

- That didn’t matter to the cook, though, not when he cradled your face in his hands and tried to get Chopper or anyone to help.

- But it was ultimately too late. You passed in moments, whispering your last words before going limp. 

- He was so full of grief immediately. The battle continued behind him while he mourned before he got up to help finish. And, when it was all done, the strawhats around helped put you to rest before they escorted Sanji back to the ship.

- He didn’t blame you or anyone on board, though he wanted to push it somewhere. He blamed himself in that steed, for being too slow, for not being strong enough. He blamed the stupid murderer as well and the gull of him harming you. 

- He dismissed himself from the group once they returned to the Sunny, and he quickly ran off to locate his daughter.

- He found her in the men’s cabin with Brook, the two playing dolls together. Brook could recognize the aura surrounding the chef, so he left the two alone.

- “Papa! Are you and Mama gonna play with me now?” she asked, holding up a doll towards him. 

- Sanji had to fight back tears, leaning down to brush her hair out of her face before cradling it much as he did yours. “No bugs. Mama won’t be able to play.”

- He carefully broke the news to her, holding her tightly as she cried into him. He cried with her, soothing her to the best of his abilities as well. 

- “It’ll be okay. I’m here, I’m here…”

ACE

- Needless to say, he was not okay when it happened. Not in the least. 

- He already struggled daily with his own worth, but losing one of the only people who made him feel worth loving hit him hard.

- The whitebeards were big on getting back at those who hurt their family, and given the fact you were not only his partner but the mother of his child, he was going to murder whoever dared hurt you personally. 

- His flames were hotter than ever, and the battle was over in minutes. He was left for a minute, cold despite the heat and afraid of heading back to the ship without you. But he did. He forced himself to walk to the ship and board.

- He felt like time was slow, and his reactions were late. He also felt suddenly as though he were a burden, like a curse that wasn’t worth living. 

- That was until he felt a hand tug on his. He looked down, and for a moment, he saw you. But then he noticed freckles and curious eyes, and he smiled tiredly. “Hey, Sweety.”

- “Pops said you were sad!” she declared, and she had this determined tone in her voice that ace would typically adore, but now he was just too beat to acknowledge it with anything but a sad hum. Which ultimately confirmed her suspicion. 

- She reached up, and Ace lifted her without complaint. She leaned in to wrap her arms around his neck, hugging him. “They said Mama’s gone,” she mumbled. “Is she really?”

- Ace’s breath hitched. She was clever, and he knew she could handle the truth, but that fact also hurt him in a way. He put a hand on the back of her head, gently patting her. “Yes… Yeah, it’s true,” he admitted quietly. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, trying to hold back a sob.

- But, to his surprise, she pulled back. And, with the strength of a child raised by pirates, she squeezed his face and looked at him sternly through her own tears. “Mama was strong! We gotta be strong for Mama,” she nodded and patted his cheeks. “Okay? Strong for Mama!”

- Ace stared at her, his tears falling, and he smiled a bit. “Right. We’ve gotta be strong for her.”

- It wasn’t much, but at that moment, he decided he’d live for her. He was sure that you’d want that for him, and he grieved hard, and sometimes it was… terrible. But, he kept going for her.

[probablyasocialecologist]

The oft-used description of early humans as “hunter-gatherers” should be changed to “gatherer-hunters,” at least in the Andes of South America, according to groundbreaking research led by a University of Wyoming archaeologist. Archaeologists long thought that early human diets were meat-based. However, Assistant Professor Randy Haas’ analysis of the remains of 24 individuals from the Wilamaya Patjxa and Soro Mik'aya Patjxa burial sites in Peru shows that early human diets in the Andes Mountains were composed of 80 percent plant matter and 20 percent meat. The study, titled Stable isotope chemistry reveals plant-dominant diet among early foragers on the Andean Altiplano, has been published by the peer-reviewed journal PLOS ONE. It applies methods in isotope chemistry and statistical modeling to unveil a surprising twist in early Andean societies and traditional hunter-gatherer narratives. “Conventional wisdom holds that early human economies focused on hunting -- an idea that has led to a number of high-protein dietary fads, such as the Paleodiet,” Haas says. “Our analysis shows that the diets were composed of 80 percent plant matter and 20 percent meat.” For these early humans of the Andes, spanning from 9,000 to 6,500 years ago, there is indeed evidence that hunting of large mammals provided some of their diets. But the new analysis of the isotopic composition of the human bones shows that plant foods made up the majority of individual diets, with meat playing a secondary role. Additionally, burnt plant remains from the sites and distinct dental-wear patterns on the individuals’ upper incisors indicate that tubers -- or plants that grow underground, such as potatoes -- likely were the most prominent subsistence resource. “Our combination of isotope chemistry, paleoethnobotanical and zooarchaeological methods offers the clearest and most accurate picture of early Andean diets to date,” Haas says. “These findings update our understanding of earliest forager economies and the pathway to agricultural economies in the Andean Highlands.”

[imalison]

Okay, so can we talk about No Good Noelle for a second. This game wasn't explicit or detailed as Tcoaal, obviously, but I feel like its endings were headed in a similar direction

We were given two choices, which led us to two contrasting endings.

Pretty similar to the decay and burial route.

In No Good Noelle

With the Ivy Route

If we choose to stay with her "best friend," no progress will be made in her life. She'll continue living in her shadows, working under her to make snowballs. Nothings new

She's literally good for nothing and remains the same. The entire narrative is basically what the title was all about.

She was given a choice

She could've gone with Yule

She could've made a change

But she chose to remain the same

Now, if we compare it with the Coffin of Andy and Leyley

There are two branches for this one as well. One will lead us to a brighter ending with questionable choices, and the other one will bring a closure to the story.

The coffin of Andy and Leyley

Basically them dying together

Again, nothing is new. It was already known from the start. They were simply following the title in a straight line.

It's like one step forward two steps behind

Basically, it brings us to the light that whatever we did in the game just gets thrown to waste in the end.

The progress we could've made with those little teasing moments and a hint of a new future gets shunned away, which is depressing

So, what I'm trying to say is that we are either basically doing something for a change or making zero progress what so ever

Either way, we got a glimpse of their story

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that there's a wrong choice.

One is just perfectly depicting their titles.

Noelle really proving that she's a no-good noelle,

and the decay ending really closing the tale of The coffin of andy and leyley

But the burial and yule route, both of them are chaotic, both of them emphasis on exploring another outcome

This time, all the interactions didn't go to waste

The choices led up to a change in the cycle. We broke out of it, and this new ending is progress in its twisted way.

It proves the title wrong, at least in some way

So now we can look at it from a metaphorical perspective

Noelle is still the same. She still can't make highly professional snowflakes, but when she teamed up with yule, she got out of the miserable life she was in. She refused to succumb under her mother or her best friend.

She refused to follow the regulations and cheat. She chose to be deceitful instead

Pretty similar to Ashley and Andrew not following the regulations of the society and burying their old selves figuratively.

This goes for the questionable route

Cause this is them growing as their own person instead of trying to fit in and following what's supposed to be right.

Denoting that the twisted path is actually the happiest one for the characters

—------------------—

Also, it's mind-blowing how well the titles fit both the routes. No good, noelle can also denote that she's bad. A warning sign that she might not be as nice as she seems after all. 'Oh, she is up to no good.' The same can apply for The coffin of andy and leyley, like I mentioned before.

Honestly, it's genius work.

[blueiscoool]

Sword with Markings of Ancient Pharaoh Ramses II Unearthed in Egypt

Archaeologists unearthed a series of mudbrick rooms filled with religious tributes, soldiers’ personal effects, engraved weaponry and animal bones.

Researchers have discovered a 3,200-year-old Egyptian fort filled with archaeological treasures. Located at the Tell Al-Abqain excavation site in northwest Egypt, the buried structure contained religious tributes, military barracks and a bronze sword inscribed with the name of the pharaoh Ramses II.

The fort was unearthed during ongoing excavations at Tell Al-Abqain. A team led by Ahmed El Kharadly, an archaeologist with Egypt’s Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities, found a series of mudbrick architectural units in the area, according to a statement from the ministry.

Those buildings, or barracks, contained a trove of artifacts, including the necessities and personal effects of the soldiers stationed there during Egypt’s New Kingdom era, a period of prosperity, territorial expansion and peace that lasted from around 1550 to 1077 B.C.E. The barracks show the military power Egypt expended to grow and defend its territory during this time.

“It is an important discovery highlighting the strategic role of Tell Al-Abqain area as a crucial military outpost on the western military road, protecting Egypt’s northwestern borders from potential invasions by Libyan tribes and sea peoples,” Mohamed Ismail Khaled, secretary-general of Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities, tells Ahram Online’s Nevine El-Aref.

The barracks’ advanced architectural layout exemplifies the engineering talents of the ancient Egyptian builders, who skillfully harnessed the existing landscape for military objectives, Khaled adds.

At the site, researchers also found granaries, cow burials and pottery containing fish bones. In ancient Egypt, cows were “revered as celestial deities” and symbols of “strength, abundance and prosperity,” per the statement. However, these specific burials indicate that soldiers likely ate the cows: The bovine remains were found in an area near an oven, “which confirms that they were probably divided into parts and then stored in silos after drying,” El Kharadly tells Live Science’s Owen Jarus.

Along with evidence of soldiers’ daily provisions, researchers found accessories and toiletries, like ivory applicators for kohl eyeliner, necklaces of carnelian and faience beads shaped like pomegranate blossoms, and scarabs engraved with deities’ names, per the statement. The archaeologists also found two limestone blocks, one inscribed with the name of an official, “Bay,” and the other mentioning Ramses.

The pharaoh Ramses II, or Ramses the Great, ruled Egypt from 1279 to 1213 B.C.E., as the third king of the 19th Dynasty. Nicknamed the “builder pharaoh,” Ramses commissioned many temples during his reign, ensuring a lasting legacy. The newly discovered barracks also illustrate his sprawling influence.

One of the most intriguing discoveries was a bronze sword engraved with the cartouche of Ramses, or hieroglyphs arranged in an oval representing his name. Its presence suggests the fort was an important site during the pharaoh’s reign, per Ahram Online.

The barracks are an “important discovery” illuminating Egypt’s military strategy during Ramses’ rule, as Peter Brand, a historian at the University of Memphis who wasn’t involved in the excavation, tells Live Science.

“The weaponry demonstrates the place was well armed and may even have been able to produce some weapons on site,” Brand adds. The bronze sword was “likely given to a high-ranking officer as a royal reward. … The king’s name and titles engraved on it increased the prestige of its owner and ‘advertised’ the [king’s] wealth, power and generosity.”

By Sonja Anderson.

[yanderes-galore]

Here's my first request. It's a normal request for a scenario with Death from Puss in Boots.

Some time ago, we talked about the idea of ​​a cat reader taking Puss in Boots' place after the former's death, so let me refresh your memory. This is a Puss in Boots AU that takes place after The Last Wish. Many years later, Puss finally passed away, but that doesn't mean the legend is over. After the burial, another cat, a big fan of the original Puss, picks a hat, a sword and a pair of boots for themselves and goes on adventures like the original. The reader soon becomes a hero who is not afraid to put their life in danger to save innocent people. What makes this cat different from the original is that the new puss doesn't waste their lives and acts arrogantly. But, unfortunately, they have already lost three or four lives while helping people (either because they were killed in fights or due to an accident). So, the cat's desire to follow the legacy of the previous PIB and their respect for their lives (unlike the original) ends up catching the attention of a certain white wolf.

To make things less confusing when mentioning the cats, i think it would be a good idea to use Puss in Boots (his name) for the original and puss in boots (which is now just a title) for the new one.

I'll see what I can do! Intentions are left ambiguous/can be seen as either romantic or platonic. This wasn't very intense for my plot... so my bad :( I hope you still liked it though!

Copycat

Yandere! Death Oneshot

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Some sadism, Soft yandere Death, Kidnapping (Technically), Dubious companionship.

Death never really liked cats. They always took life for granted in his eyes. All because they have nine lives they think they're untouchable.

Death has quickly proven such felines wrong... especially a certain orange cat. He was happy Puss in Boots finally learned to take care of himself near the end of his career. But eventually... the wolf claimed him too.

He thought that would be the last time he even heard the title of 'Puss in Boots'. The cat is dead and it's been years. His title is merely a legend.

But as Death watches the world of the living... he notices that name being thrown around again. The wolf had to make sure he was hearing things correctly when he picked up on the words. "Puss in Boots reborn" the people echo... so he checked things out.

Sure enough, another foolish feline has fallen for the legend. That's what Death sighed about as he watched you, a young cat, playing hero in a hat and boots, with a sword in your paws.

Deciding to keep a keen eye on you to see if you'd show arrogance... Death was surprised when you showed none of it. You treated every life you had with care... saving those around you and adventuring. It admittedly eased Death a little bit that he wouldn't have a repeat of your predecessor.

Soon Death realized he wouldn't just be watching you from a distance. Adventuring and saving others puts heroes in danger. Sometimes...

Sometimes heroes even meet a few close calls with Death himself.

Death recalls the first time he met you, the newest little Copycat. You looked so scared when he approached you, the wolf stalking over to you slowly. He really loved your fear... but now was not your time.

"Quite the little outfit you've got..." The wolf whispers. "You remind me of an old friend... but this is only your first life lost, cat."

It's then he releases you, allowing you to use your first life. You're down to eight and still doing your usual activities with care. Death admittedly found himself attached... often watching you as you save other souls.

Such a kind cat... much different from the usual troublesome felines.

Of course, as nature with your little job, you'd eventually meet Death again. Quite a few times, actually. Death liked every single one of your meetings.

He always said you lost your lives for a good cause. He appreciated that quality of yours. He only ever found himself looking forward to the day he eventually takes you for himself.

As for most, there was no way to keep Death away forever. Every meeting... every time he watched you live your life... he thought of the time he'd eventually take you away. You wouldn't like it... he knows it...

But he hopes to keep you as a companion... a reminder that cats can prove themselves.

Your lives tick down like the sand in an hourglass. Over time Death continues to meet you. His grin is wider the more accidents and lives pass.

5...

4...

3...

2...

1...

Upon your last life you feel it is time to retire. While the wolf... Death... acted as an old friend... he would become an enemy soon. You didn't want to depart from your life quite yet...

But that wasn't your decision... it never truly was...

Death was always the one who let you live.

Even if you ran and tried to postpone meeting your maker, Death would always follow. You can hear him call out to you, a whistle accompanying him. The wolf always chuckled when he saw your fear.

Truthfully... you shouldn't be scared. The wolf would never hurt you unless you fought him. He can peacefully take you to the afterlife.

You just need to stop fighting him.

He guessed it was natural you fought him. Your predecessor fought with him too. Yet... he thought you were better than that.

Your fight to keep your remaining life would end soon. Your paranoia leads to another accident. Your lives going from one to zero in an instant.

Leading to Death standing over you, a grin on his face as piercing red eyes stare into you.

"You should really consider me a friend, cat..." He whispers, leaning down to look at you. "I've helped you this far... but you were going to come back with me eventually."

"I'm not ready yet..." You whispers, Death rolling his eyes.

"Trust me... you are. In the end... this is meant to be. You belong with me." The wolf scoops you up, a sadistic grin on his face. "The wait was worth it... the chase was fun..."

The wolf begins to walk away with you, the prize he's wanted all along. He feels you struggle but shakes his head. It was inevitable...

"But it's time to take you back where you belong, Copycat. I'll take good care of you in your new home."