#sacrifice for me. I don't want you to but i want to know that you would. i want to know that you love me enough to give up something

[mirrorcatcreditcard]

Take I haven't seen in the fandom yet:

Luka doesn't want to be freed.

"Now, MirrorCatCreditcard," you may say, "that's nonsense. Any human would want freedom from that system."

If you're thinking I'm gonna convince you that Luka doesn't know he wants freedom yet, you're wrong. I'm here to talk about indoctrination/conditioning, grooming/emotional manipulation, my own experience with those topics, and how all of the above connects with Luka as a character. If a deep dive like this is too much for you, please tap out for your own sake.

Luka's life was planned before he even existed. There has never ever been an alternative option. There is no life for Luka as anything but what Herperu chose. Everything in his life has been planned to have him be the perfect pet human idol. That is what he must be.

Fandom, I don't think most of you actually understand this and have dissected what this means (shout-out to the Luka stans who are getting there/have guessed similar things). These words we know have alternatives and are not set in stone are Luka's "gravity makes rain fall to the earth" and "water makes things wet." They are facts so deeply ingrained within him that even if shown the contrary he remarks that the person showing them is just disillusioned.

Take his commentary on Mizi and Hyun-A in the art book. He looks down on Mizi for not being able to control any of her emotions. How does he talk about Hyun-A? He has her at 70% affection yet shows a patronizing attitude—she's the one in denial at reality.

Now, how did we get here? How is a human so "delusional" and set in the control?

He's been conditioned.

Some of you don't know what I mean by this from experience and/or research, and count yourself fortunate that you don't. I pray you never experience such things firsthand. Don't worry about ignorance. Familiar or not, I will explain.

When you are surrounded by only one truth and reality, that is the way you interpret life. If a parent tells a child "the moon goes to sleep during the day," until the child learns otherwise, that's what they believe. Now take that child-like belief and add some toxic environments to the mix. With time, any other kid would learn that the earth rotates from their peers or adults around them. But if the creatures around them all say and believe the same thing "the moon goes to sleep during the day," then that is what the child continues to believe. Years of that same thing being the only truth make that false knowledge into a fact in the person's head, and everything that supports that fact is taken as truth or on the right path to truth.

"This is kinda silly though," you guys are no doubt murmuring, "All of this is a hypothetical. Give us something that makes sense or that someone could actually see happen in our society."

I'll give you my own experience then. My parents taught me that God is real. My parents taught me that I will be damned I do not follow the commandments of the scriptures. I didn't need to worry though. As long as I was obedient to the God who loved me and wanted what was best, I would be saved despite being born an awful sinful human. I was homeschooled, only interacted with people of similar beliefs, and taught that people too different from me in ideology or with radical beliefs against my own were trying to harm me and my family. I believed the people who raised me because why would people who love me lie to me? My task was simple. I needed to obey God and love everyone, especially them. Love meant giving up my entire being and living only as servant and sacrifice. After all, being selfless to the utmost was the greatest form of love.

Let's go back to Luka. His guardian, Herperu, when questioned about any surprises while training Luka, stated not only that he was the one who endured the "tough moments" but also that "(Luka) owes his success to me, and naturally, he should be grateful." This sentiment is echoed by Luka in his interview (shown on Patreon). My god, it's giving parents with disabled kids who brag on social media about how much trouble their kid is and how much they do for them. Sickening. This shows exactly what environment Luka has lived in though.

When you are manipulated into having something as your reality, everything else is fiction and delusion.

Let's review what exactly is Luka's reality.

Heperu is the one suffering if Luka has any difficulties being obedient.

Gratitude is what Herperu is owed because he goes through so much trouble to make Luka a star.

Love/care is shown by owning another's autonomy.

Emotions and bodily reactions exist, sure, but someone should be able to control them; and if they can't, someone should control those reactions for them.

Segyein are superior and the good ones for dealing with humans. Humans must be disciplined and shaped to how an segyein wants it to act to be considered deserving of this goodness.

(Luka)'s perfection is defined by his guardian.

Luka's life is directly connected to being the perfect performer. His guardian praises his abilities with the statement that no other pet human will ever be as perfect as him yet leaves an underlying threat saying that it will be no good if a pet is not trained properly. This has probably been mentally (if not physically) beaten into Luka's mind: his greatness doesn't stop him from being able to be disposed of. The human instinct to want to live has been explained to him as Heperu's wish for him to live and that has been further distorted as a duty to live for the stage he has been placed on.

Luka believes fully that there is a debt in play here. In his interview, he mentions repaying love. He thinks the relationship between fan and idol is completely normal, encouraged, and healthy. Performance is the most important thing. Being where he is is a privilege.

There's a chain here:

Heperu indoctrinated Luka into believing what he says is all true.

The guardian manipulated him easily to do what he wanted with his body and mind.

The years have been spent constantly conditioning Luka to be the god who encapsulated fantasies for the audience.

He is continually being groomed to exist for the entertainment and enjoyment of segyein.

Circle back to my first point of this post. Luka does not want to be freed. He doesn't know what freedom actually is. He sees freedom as either foolish denials of reality (and doesn't consider that actual freedom) or as controlling the song and stage when he performs (something he learned from Hyuna). He cannot want something he cannot understand. He cannot want freedom in the sense the fandom keeps speaking about.

It's funny. From the moment Luka was revealed to be hated by the fandom, I wanted to know why. Instead of digging and finding horrific deeds, I instead found a character who portrayed my own traumas and experiences. I instantly attached and delved deeply into learning about this thirty year old singer. Why does he express himself in a certain way? Where do we first see mention of him? Who does he have emotions towards? How was he trained? What makes Luka himself? I have past essays/replies to other's theories if you're interested, but in this one I got personal and didn't sugarcoat the facts. If the fandom can't handle deep thought, we shouldn't be discussing this incredibly profound and depth-filled web series.

As always, thank you for your time, and I hope my thoughts allowed you to open your mind to new things. Mostly, I hope you enjoyed them 🫶

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Pack: Chapter 6

Trigger Warnings: none

The journey home was insatiable. It was awkward and quiet. Seungmin had even attempted to turn on the radio while he drove back but Felix turned it off with a huff. There were too many thoughts going around his head. Why did Minho bring her to his home? Why couldn't Minho have warned him? What is she thinking? Does she hate humans? Is Olivia going to pry? What's mum going to think? Felix felt stressed and conflicted. He wasn't annoyed at Y/N whatsoever but the situation put pressure on him. "So how's Chan hyung?" Seungmin asked as he put a dent in the awkward silence. "Jaehee's breaking his bones today. He's not healing. She's worried one of the wolves may have had a poisonous bite and that's caused Chan to struggle to fight the infection and heal." Minho answered plainly as he played with Y/N's hand. Minho looked up and gave her a soft smile as he squeezed her hand. "Why didn't Jaehee pick this up before?" Seungmin asked, there was concern in his voice as he thought about the weeks his alpha was suffering. Minho sighed and looked out of the window. "Because Chan is stubborn. He didn't want Y/N to worry so he's been trying to fight it. He even asked me to try and cut parts out of his leg." Minho stated. "You did what?" Y/N asked worriedly. "I told him it was stupid," Minho muttered. "The things you do for love!" Seungmin clicked his tongue. "Oh. You want to talk about doing things for love. The last time you did something for love you nearly killed yourself." Minho growled, smacking the younger beta's head.

Y/N could see Minho really cared about the younger wolf despite his aggression towards him. It made Y/N smile as she saw the beta glare through the wing mirror. "If puppy asked to sacrifice me in a ritual I would do it," Seungmin stated proudly while the three of them looked at him with concern. They were slightly disturbed by the confession. "That's not normal Minnie," Y/N stated. "She's right," Felix added. "What? It doesn't matter. Anyways. My love is exclusively for Y/N only." Seungmin answered causing them to roll their eyes, but the concern of Seungmin's confession didn't go unnoticed by Minho. Minho was aware of Seungmins intense emotions but he was worried about how this would lie with Y/N, because once Seungmin becomes obsessed he never lets it go. As soon as Seungmin is fixated on something, he will not stop until it's deep within his grasp. It worried Minho and right now Y/N seemed oblivious to it. She seemed unfazed by his words as if he joked about them a lot, and he did make slight comments about her. About owning her. It was strange, but Minho didn't want to alarm anyone, not yet at least, but was it Seungmin he needed to worry about or another wolf in the house?

Seungmin pulled up to the side of the house, parking next to Chan's car before snacking his car door against Chan's car. "Careful." Minho grumbled, causing the beta to shrug. Y/N shook her head and got out of the car noticing Hyunjins car had gone. "He's gone to the shops with Jisung to get you a phone," Minho said. "A phone?" Y/N was confused. "Yeah, because how else are you supposed to know where we are if we're late? It's also easier for you to get a hold of us without using one of us." Minho explained. "Oh." Y/N nodded as she shut the door. "Wait," Felix called as he grabbed her hand, pulling her towards him so that he could embrace her. His head fell straight into her neck tightly. "Felix!" Y/N cooed as she stroked his hair affectionately. "I can explain. Hear me out. There's a reason I never told you and you probably worked it out when you smelt them. And I never wanted them to know or you to find out. And I-" "Felix calm down. It's alright. I don't care what they are. I just want to understand. That is all." Y/N promised as she lifted his head up, looking into his frazzled eyes. It was a secret that some of the wolves didn't know and it was a lot for him to reveal it. "Felix. I want to know." Y/N pleaded. Felix nodded and nudged her towards the car. He could feel Minho listening and he didn't like that.

Y/N opened the car door and sat on the back seat, watching Felix climb in. He was nervous. Y/N could tell. It was the way he kept looking back as if he was going to be caught. Felix took a deep breath and rubbed his face as he built up the courage to tell her. "My father is an omega and my mother is human. My mother doesn't know my father is a werewolf. Fuck. I don't know how to explain this." Felix looked up at the roof of the car as he tried to find the right words. "My father came from an omega pack. He was a part of the revolution against alphas. There were nineteen in their pack, but they were divided in beliefs so a schism happened. My father stayed with his pack. I think there were six or seven. I can't remember what he told me but apparently war happened with a head alpha and when the head omega wanted to take them out my father ran away. He ran because he didn't want to be executed. My mum was carrying Rachel, so he couldn't do that to her. My mum believed he got into some trouble growing up so they moved into the house you saw. Then I came along and then Olivia came." "But how are you a werewolf? I don't understand." Y/N whispered. "I don't know, but my father picked up on the signs and tried to teach me everything he knew. My father believes I could have been a beta because of a recessive gene but who knows? Chan found me through my father who was looking for a werewolf pack at the time to teach me. The thing was Chan had a high opinion of omega packs back then, as long as I was loyal to him, Chan would never hand over my father." Felix stated with an awkward smile as if the whole situation was tough luck. He looked at Y/N whose brown eyes watched him as she tried to piece together what he had said. "I didn't tell you because I didn't know how you would react. Many werewolves are prejudiced or fearful of omega packs. Even Minho hyung despises them along with Hyunjin and Seungmin so it wasn't like I could say anything to them. Only Chan and Jeongin really know. The others have speculation but have never asked. I guess I also worried because of what happened with you and Ateez, I didn't want it to escalate further and target my family." "Oh, Lixie. I'm not mad. I was hurt for three minutes but I knew there was something more because we promised we would always tell each other." Y/N reached out and cupped his face in her hands. Her warmth made him close his eyes. "What I think is an omega pack is pretty cool and I support that because us omegas are treated badly you know."

Felix grunted lowly at her obnoxious thoughts. He didn't need her deciding to rebel against them. "My love. Don't even think about it. You are treated well. If not spoilt." Felix grumbled. "Me spoilt? Definitely not it depends on what you categorise as spoilt." Y/N stated causing him to roll his eyes. "I am sorry I didn't say anything when you came into the room. I kind of panicked and I couldn't exactly say you were my girlfriend when Seungmin had his hands wrapped around you, but then I felt guilty. So. So. So guilty baby. Not only that Rachel is so judgemental and I didn't want her to even have those thoughts about you." Felix stressed causing Y/N to roll her eyes. "I mean technically I am a whore-" Felix put his hand over her mouth, silencing her with a glare. "Do not ever say that. Ever." Felix growled. "Yes, Lixie." Y/N teased as she kissed him. She missed his kisses. They were always so loving and tender. They were delicate, like him. "Do you ever worry something may happen?" Y/N asked. "My father expects it but I worry for my mother and sisters. They never asked to be apart of this world and I want to keep it hidden from them." Felix answered. "If they do I will rebel," Y/N stated as she crossed her arms. "If you do. I can punish you now. You've been claimed." Felix said as his yellow eyes glowed slightly. "Um. Hello. Seungmin is that you?" Y/N teased, causing Felix to growl and chase her out of the car. Things were starting to get better despite the small cracks that were starting to show.

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@galaxy4489 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @linocz @itzreetal987 @skzdreamer13 @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @skzdreamer13 @ihttinniee @kingdomofpentagon @pixie0627 @tsunderelino @notevenheretbh1 @catlove83 @h0rnyp0t @hash2013 @hyunmikim @emi-han @iknow-uknow-leeknow @jigglypuff3000 @aalexyuuuhm @missseoulite @ihrtlix @estella-novella @xxeiraxx @atinyrosedoor @skz-ot8-stay @poetryforthesad @emi-han @galaxy4489

[satorulovebot]

cursed seas chapter six | the lakes

pairing — satoru gojou x fem!reader

summary — all your life you’ve been taught to hate pirates and the sins they have committed against god. you've always strived to be a good citizen upholding the law and avoiding the lawless, but when you meet the infamous captain gojou, known to be dangerous and cunning, you realize that survival in this world often requires sacrifices. sometimes, that sacrifice is your sanity.

word count — 5.6k

warnings — nsfw (minors dni), explicit sexual content, fellatio, cunnilingus, explicit smut, profanity, alcohol consumption, heavy angst, age difference

notes — this is like my second time writing smut in like 2 years gimmie a break pls. anyways. hello to my cursed seas babies, don't worry i will never abandon my og child you can be assured its my first priority, unless i have writers block which unfortunately happened and thats why this chapter is short and why i SEVERELY dislike it. enjoy ;)

series masterlist // pinterest moodboard // general masterlist

♪ the lakes — taylor swift

previous chap. you're on your own, kid | next chap. (coming coon)

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of your father's small, cozy home, casting warm light across the room as you silently folded the last of your clothing into a worn leather bag.

Your father sat at the table in the dining room, watching you with a pensive expression, his hands resting on his lap. It had been a few days since you returned to Elysport, and in that time, he had treated you like the little girl he had lost so many years ago. Considering your relationship over the last few years, the affection he had shown you was more than you had expected.

“Are you sure you want to go? There might be another way to find out what happened to your mother.��� 

You paused, looking down at your packed bag before facing him. “Father I’m sure. There are things I need to know—about Mom. And I think this is the only way I will get any answers.”

He frowned, his brows furrowing. “Alright, but promise me something—promise me you’ll be safe.”

You nodded. “I promise,” you whispered.

He wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. You didn't want to leave, not really. This small part of Elysport, your father’s home—it was a sanctuary compared to the madness of the ship you were about to return to. But you had made your choice and you knew that you couldn’t stay here forever.

“I’ll be back,” you said softly, “Soon.”

Your father smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be here, waiting.” 

With a final glance around the room, you hoisted your bag over your shoulder and headed for the door. 

Making your way through the streets of Elysport gave you time to think about what going back to Gojou’s ship meant. And it meant diving headfirst into a world of chaos once again and having to face him after everything that had happened.

And you didn't like that idea. 

The docks soon came into view and you could see the massive silhouette of Gojou’s ship towering above the rest. You hesitated as you stood at the pier's edge, watching crew members bustling about, preparing for the next leg of their journey. 

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and began walking toward the gangplank. You found him near the helm overseeing his ship as he usually would. When he spotted you approaching, his eyes widened briefly before narrowing in that familiar way that made your stomach twist.

“Back already?”

You set your bag down, taking a deep breath before answering. “I told you I’d be back last night.”

Gojou’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. He looked at you for a moment before shrugging and turning his attention back to the crew.

"Well, you're just in time. We're setting sail soon. Grab your things and get ready." 

You waited for more—some snide comment, some half-hearted insult—but it never came. His voice lacked that usual bite and he avoided directly looking at you, which was strange in itself. 

It was strange, this new version of him—one that didn’t bark orders or throw insults your way at every opportunity. 

It was... comforting in a way.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of something bright—a familiar tuft of pink hair. Yuuji was perched high in the crow's nest, his energy impossible to miss, even from afar.  He instantly noticed you, his face lighting up as he waved enthusiastically, calling your name across the deck. You couldn’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you at the sight of him. His energy was infectious and his kindness was a rare comfort. You lifted your hand in return, waving back.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you found yourself standing near the railing watching the waves lap against the side of the ship. You heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Captain Gojou approaching.

He leaned against the railing beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between the two of you like a taught wire.

“You won’t ask why I let you back so easily?” 

You glanced at him, surprised by the question. “I figured you just wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible,” you said, your words laced with a hint of bitterness.

Gojou chuckled, though there was no real humor in it. “Yeah, well... maybe I’m not as heartless as you think.”

You raised an eyebrow, not sure if you believed him. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He winced at that, and for a moment, you thought he might snap back at you, but instead, he just sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m not good at this... at any of this. You want to hate me, I get that. Hell, maybe I deserve it. But I’m trying, alright?” His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. The Gojou standing next to you wasn’t the arrogant, reckless captain you had grown accustomed to.

“I don’t hate you,” you said quietly. “But you make it really hard sometimes.”

Gojou let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m good at that.” He paused, his expression softening. “But I meant what I said. You did good back there. And... I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe the Gojou who you had kissed so desperately in that hotel room was not as far away as you thought. The waves lapped steadily against the ship’s hull, the sound calming as you stood in silence next to Gojou.

“About earlier,” he began. “When I left your room… I just—” He paused, seemingly frustrated, like he was trying to find the right words. “I didn’t mean to be such an ass.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden confession. “You always mean to be an ass.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But not like that. Not this time.”

You turned to face him, fully leaning against the railing. The fading evening light casting shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the pale strands of his hair that moved gently with the breeze. When you looked at him, you didn’t see the infamous captain you had grown to know—he looked… tired. 

“It’s not like you to apologize. What’s going on?”

He frowned, his gaze dropping to the deck below, his hand absently drumming against the wooden railing. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “It’s just… you’ve been different. This whole situation has been different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he began slowly, as if testing each word before saying it, “I don’t know why I keep pushing you away when I don’t want to.”

Your heart fluttered at his confession. He wasn’t the type to open up easily—especially about things like this. And for him to admit that he didn’t want to push you away… it was almost too much to process.

“But you do,” you pointed out, your voice barely above a whisper. “You push me away every chance you get.”

He let out a long sigh, his head dropping for a moment before he straightened, running a hand through his hair. “I know. It’s just… easier, I guess.” His gaze finally met yours, and the sincerity in his blue eyes was enough to take your breath away. “I’ve lost a lot of people. Crew, friends, family.” His voice grew quieter. “It’s easier not to get attached.”

“And me?” you asked softly, your voice barely above the sound of the waves. “Am I just another person to lose?”

Gojou hesitated, his gaze never leaving yours. “I don’t want you to be.”

This wasn’t just the arrogant, reckless captain speaking—this was Satoru, the man behind the mask. And the way he looked at you in that moment, like he was finally seeing you for the first time, sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you could say anything more, Gojou spoke again, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “You’re really leaving your father for this?” he asked, his eyes flicking to your bag.

You nodded. “I need to know the truth about what happened to my mother. And… I need to find that treasure and be with the map.”

A shadow crossed his face at the mention of the map, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned his gaze back to the horizon, his jaw clenched tight. You knew he didn’t like talking about the map—it was the one thing that seemed to come between the two of you time and time again.

“I’ll take you back onboard. But I need you to understand something.” He turned to face you fully now, his expression serious. “This isn’t a game. Whatever you’re getting yourself into with Sukuna, it’s dangerous. It's more dangerous than you realize. I don’t trust him or whatever he is up to.”

Sukuna. 

That must have been the man with the pink hair you were talking to in the marketplace. You didn’t expect Gojou to know who he was, or at least know him enough to have that look on his face.

“I know,” you said quietly, meeting his gaze. “But I have to do this.”

Then, slowly, Gojou nodded, as if finally accepting your decision. “Fine,” he said, his voice resigned. “But if anything happens, I’ll kill Sukuna myself.”

Without another word, Gojou turned and began walking back toward the ship, his usual swagger returning with each step. You followed, your heart pounding in your chest, the thought of what lay ahead heavy on your mind.

Captain Gojou leaned against the ship's railing, gazing out at the ocean and the small port where they’d docked. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and workers from the docks were beginning to head home. His crew had grown restless after days without a break, so he’d ordered a stop at a quieter port for some shore leave. But he hadn’t been completely honest about why he gave the order—it was mostly for the map. He wanted a chance to study it carefully and had recently decided they would soon start the journey it promised, especially now that you had rejoined them. The treasure it led to was dangerous, and he knew he’d need a solid plan if he, you, and his crew were going to make it out alive.

After a moment of contemplation, he looked over his shoulder and spotted you coming up from below deck. He grinned, giving you a casual wave. “Looks like everyone’s scattered,” he said. “You wanna go for a walk?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, sure. But what’s the reason?”

“Because I asked you nicely, Y/N.”

“Fine, I could use some fresh air anyway. Your ship’s unnaturally stuffy.”

Before the two of you departed the ship, Gojou made his way to his captain’s quarters to stow the map away safely. You assumed it was for security reasons, considering how much of a pain in the ass he’d been when trying to take it from you. After he returned, you both took off your shoes and walked down the gangplank together, stepping into the shallow water and heading down the beach toward the port town. Gojou’s ship was too large to fit in the small port, so he’d had to anchor it a little way off the coast. It was a bit of a hassle, but you didn’t mind.

You and Gojou had made it halfway down the beach before he broke the silence. "You know, I wasn't born a pirate."

You turned to him, surprised by his revelation. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed. Although, now that I think about it, you seem like a child who was spoiled far more than he should have been."

He gave a small shrug. "Pretty much. When I was a child, I ran away from home. I had met a young pirate, the same age as me, and he showed me another side of life. The place where I grew up felt like a prison and I wanted out."

"Oh. What happened?" you asked quietly.

"My family… my family had high expectations for me. They expected me to marry another girl from a rich family, a girl I had never met, a girl I didn't love. They expected me to be the head of the family when my father died and live up to the Gojou family legacy. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I left in the middle of the night. No one came looking, either.” His voice softened. “Guess they were happy to be rid of me.”

"Was it hard to live like that?"

"I stole for a little while, I had no name, no ship, and barely any money. After a few months to a year, I was able to make a living for myself and I never looked back."

“You never went back? Not even to see how your family is doing?”

"No, my father was a bastard and could have given two shits about how his own family felt about him. I actually spent some time living in Saltstone Port when I was eighteen, it wasn't too bad. You used to live there, right?"

Wait how did he know that?

"Anyway, we're almost there, do you wanna find a bar? Since you know, you like drinking."

“Who said I like drinking?”

“I did,” he said with a smirk.

And that's how the two of you found yourself in a dimly lit corner of a booth, ordering round after round as a way to “unwind” as Gojou said. Somehow, unwinding meant downing enough drinks to make the room spin. 

“To—” He paused, squinting at you. “To us, and to making it through yet another day without you murdering me,” he toasted, raising his mug with a smirk. You clinked your glass against his as you sipped, feeling the warmth of the alcohol seep into your veins. As the alcohol loosened you up, you began telling Captain Gojou things you shouldn’t have, things you probably won’t remember in the morning.

As the night went on, the two of you began inching closer and closer to each other. At some point, he’d moved his arm around your shoulders, and you’d stopped noticing, letting yourself melt into his warmth.

“Y’know,” he slurred, eyes glassy as he looked at you. “I always thought I was fine alone.”

You tilted your head, blinking slowly as you tried to focus on his face, which kept swimming in and out of view. “That so?” you mumbled, giggling as you took another sip of your drink. “Thought you liked being all ‘mysterious and distant,’ Captain.”

“I… I dunno.”

Your heart did a funny little skip, and you glanced up at him, your gaze meeting his. “Maybe it’s the drinks talking,” he muttered.  “Or maybe it’s just…you make things… less lonely.”

Gojou,” you started, but before you could finish, he leaned in, his lips brushing your forehead in a clumsy, affectionate gesture.

“I like having you around,” he mumbled. His gaze flicked down to the empty glasses on the table. “But we should… get back to the ship, yeah?”

You could barely remember the journey back to the ship. When you made it back to his ship, you stumbled towards his captain’s quarters, exhausted from your night out. As you reached his bed, you tugged on your shirt, frowning. “Ugh, I can’t sleep in this. It’s filthy.” The fabric was sticky and wrinkled, and the thought of crawling into bed with it on was almost unbearable.

Gojou chuckled, leaning against the doorframe with a lopsided grin. “You’re a bit of a handful, you know that?”

Ignoring his teasing, you started to strip off your clothes, too tired and too drunk to care about modesty. You caught the faintest widening of his eyes before he quickly looked away, a strange sort of awkwardness flashing over his face.

“Better than being boring,” you retorted, your voice muffled as you ducked under the covers, the warmth of the bed wrapping around you. The soft linens felt heavenly, and you sank into them with a sigh, your eyes already drifting shut.

“Goodnight, Gojou,” you murmured, barely managing to keep your eyes open as you watched him from beneath half-closed lids.

“Goodnight,” he said softly. He hesitated, his hand resting on the doorframe for a moment longer, before he finally slipped out of the room, leaving you to the gentle lull of sleep.

When morning came, the sunlight filtered softly through the small window. You stretched, blinking sleepily as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. The memory of the previous night came flooding back, and as you shifted beneath the covers, you became very aware that you were still bare under the blanket. You stifled a groan, recalling your insistence on sleeping without your filthy clothes, and your face flushed with embarrassment. At least Gojou had seemed too out of it to really care.

Quickly, you climbed out of bed, searching the room until you found your discarded clothes from the night before. You tugged them on hastily, smoothing out the wrinkles and trying to compose yourself as best you could.

You stepped out onto the deck, the salty morning air filling your lungs as you glanced around. You wanted to ask him something, and to ask him that something you needed to find him first. You managed to find him perched on a higher part of the deck. Noticing your footsteps, he turned around and before he could speak you opened your mouth first.

“I need a bath.”

The words left your mouth with a bluntness that surprised even you. You were covered in grime from the ship and smelled like salt from the sea, it made every inch of your skin itch for a proper soak. After days of being at sea, all you wanted to do was feel clean.

“Well, this place doesn’t exactly have the best facilities for that,” he said, surveying the streets. “But… I might know a spot.”

You tilted your head. “Not exactly helpful, Captain.”

“Follow me, then. It’s a bit of a walk, but if you’re willing, I’ll show you a river that’s a hell of a lot nicer than any of the baths in town.”

You and Gojou made your way out of the port city and through winding paths that eventually opened up to a dense forest just beyond the edge of town. Gojou was quiet as he guided you through the bush towards the spot, glancing back at you every now and then.

The two of you reached a clearing where the trees parted to reveal a serene river winding through the open land. The water sparkled underneath the sun, so crystal clear and inviting it nearly hurt to look at.

“Not bad, huh?” Gojou said, standing beside you.

“It’s… beautiful.”

Gojou shrugged, feigning indifference. “It’ll do the job. Go on.”

Your gaze looked to him as he leaned against a tree, arms crossed, watching you with a smirk. “What, you think I’m just going to strip down right here?” you teased.

“Not my fault if you can’t handle a little river bath. Besides, who’s gonna see?”

With a deep breath, you started to peel off your outer layers, feeling the rough fabric leave your skin before carefully folding it on a rock nearby. You kept your eyes trained on the river, trying to ignore that he was sneaking glances, but you secretly didn’t mind. You turned to meet his gaze before turning your back to him, realizing how close the two of you actually were.

Once you shimmied out of the rest of your clothes, you waded into the river, the chill of the water sending goosebumps through your body. You went deeper into the water, washing away the grime and heat of the day. When you turned back, you saw that Gojou hadn't moved from his spot; he simply watched from where he stood.

“You know, the water’s plenty big enough for two,” you called out to him, splashing in his direction with a grin. “Or are you too scared of a little cold?”

Something mischievous sparkled in his eyes. You think I’m scared of a little cold water?”

He began unbuckling his belt with a smirk, tugging his shirt over his head and dropping it onto the ground. His toned frame caught the sunlight, the faint scars scattered across his torso telling stories he rarely spoke of. “Let’s see who’ll be begging to get out first,” he teased.

Your eyes trailed down his body as he began walking into the water. When your eyes made it toward his pelvis before you had to stop yourself from going any lower, reminding yourself it was indecent.

“It's as warm as the sea,” you teased, floating on your back and letting the gentle current carry you.

“No, but it’s a hell of a lot quieter.”

The two of you were naked, but you didn’t seem to mind, and neither did he.

“So, where did you learn to be so comfortable in the water?” he asked, kicking lazily as he floated beside you.

“My father,” you replied, glancing up at the canopy of leaves overhead. “He used to bring me to rivers like this when I was a kid. Said it was the best way to wash away the world for a while.”

Gojou nodded thoughtfully, his eyes studying you. “Smart man.”

​​You chuckled, meeting his gaze again. “He is. Sometimes I wonder if I’m disappointing him by being… here.” You gestured around you. “Running off to play pirate with people that are hardly respectable.”

“You’re not disappointing anyone,” he murmured, the words so soft you almost missed them. “And, honestly, I think it’s brave. Not many would have the guts to do what you’ve done.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly.

Gojou continued to float nearby as sunlight filtered through the trees overhead. He didn't try to hide the way his eyes roamed over your body, and you could feel he was growing bolder by the minute.

"You know, you clean up real nice," he muttered, his voice lower than usual.

You let out a small chuckle, feeling your cheeks warm under his intense stare. "I could say the same for you."

Silence enveloped the two of you as he drifted closer, standing up when he got close to you. You were in a shallow part of the water, which made the water about waist height. It was unfortunate that it was the only thing that covered his lower half because it was see-through. His fingers came up to brush your arm, lingering for a moment too long, the feeling sending a shiver down your spine.

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you two, standing so close that you could feel his warm breath fan your face. His hand drifted to your waist, feeling the soft, plush skin before sliding his hand around your back as his other hand came up to trace along your jaw. When you leaned in, you found yourself tilting your head up, your lips parting instinctively.

The kiss was soft at first, testing the waters in a way the two of you had only done once before. But then the kiss deepened, his fingers tightening on your waist as if he was afraid to let go. You let yourself melt into him, your own hands finding their way to his broad shoulders as you traced the muscles there, losing yourself in the kiss.

Gojou shifted the two of you, pressing you gently against the smooth edge of a nearby rock. One hand braced himself beside you against the rock with the other made its way down your backside.

His lips trailed along your jawline, sending sparks throughout your body, and when he kissed you again, it was like he was claiming something he had not dared touch before.

The kiss slowed as both of you caught your breath, still tangled in each other's arms as you steadied yourselves. Gojou's lips hovered near yours, his expression filled with desire.

"Hey," he murmured, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “If you're up for it… we don’t have to stay out here." His fingers traced gentle circles against your back. “There’s places in town. Places a bit more... private.”

You felt your pulse quicken and your heart race at his suggestion. “Yeah... let’s go.”

Neither of you wasted another second. Hands fumbling, you slipped back into your clothes, laughter and shared glances filling the space between you. Gojou helped you fasten a few buttons that wouldn’t cooperate. Once dressed, the two of you scrambled over rocks and brush, the cool evening air sharp against your skin after your bath—but in the heat of the moment, you hardly noticed.

You made your way back the way you came, with Satoru practically dragging you through town, looking for somewhere that wouldn’t ask too many questions. The sky was now dark, and the nightlife of the port had begun. Finally, he stopped in front of a modest hotel along a quiet street, breathing heavily from his excitement.

“Here,” he said.

You both hurried inside, catching the attention of the older man at the front desk. His eyebrow lifted as he eyed the two of you, taking in your windswept appearance and the clear look of anticipation you both wore. He sighed, passing you a key with a knowing look. “Just… keep it down, eh?”

A mischievous laugh escaped Gojou as he snagged the key and tossed you a wink. “No promises."

The two of you dashed up the narrow staircase, careful not to trip in your haste. When you finally found the room, Gojou fumbled with the key, his hands practically trembling as he tried to unlock the door. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him—a pirate captain, renowned for his cool composure, completely undone by anticipation.

“Need some help?" you teased, biting back a grin.

“Hey, keep that up and I might reconsider,” he shot back.

After fumbling with the key for a while, he finally managed to get it inside the lock and unlock the door. The room wasn't much, with only a small bed, a few chairs, and a vanity to decorate it, but it would do.

The two of you stumbled inside the room kissing fervently as he closed the door with his foot. You walked backward, leading him to the small bed in the center of the room.

“You're so beautiful to me,” he spoke in a hushed voice.

Your fingers reach up to his collar, gently pulling him down and pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss. Nothing prevented you from him when your fingers began to work on the already half-undone buttons of his shirt with slow and deliberate movements.

You continued your path to the bed and before long you felt the back of your legs hit the bed and you fell backwards on the plush cushions. The desire was mutual, you could see it in his eyes, and there was an urgent need to be closer on a level beyond words. Satoru moved his hands up and down your sides, caressing the curve of your back and touching the delicate skin of your waist.

He broke the kiss before moving down to your bust, removing the layers of your clothing to reveal your supple breasts. His pupils were fully blown completely covering his cerulean eyes, wanting to submit to his carnal desires. He leaned down kissing you once more, feeling the slopes of your breasts pressed against his chest in your lip-locking exchange.

You sat up before flipping the two of you over so you could be on top, a wave of confidence overtaking you. You slowly kissed down his body before reaching his trousers and undoing the ties of his breeches. Before you knew it, you were crawling off of his lap and laying on your stomach between his legs.

To be completely honest, you had never pleasured yourself before, let alone a man.

Your eyes widened as you pulled off his breeches, releasing his aching member that revealed a size that was proportional to his height.

"Sweetheart—ngh! Don't tease me like that."

You looked up at him with those beautiful doe eyes he had dreamed about, and he thinks he somehow got harder.

"But what if I want to?"

"Ah fuck, please sweetheart? I'm so hard already," he whined.

"Um, I don't really know how to do this… so please forgive me."

You had a friend back in Elysport who was a courtesan for the wealthy, often having sex with married men for money. You never judged her, as she was a friend, but she had taught you a couple of things including how to give a man a hand job, but you had never thought you would need to use it, not in a situation like this with a man like him.

Satoru looked down at you, and awaiting your next move he decided to wrap a hand around his cock.

"Fuck sweetheart," he moaned. "You don't know how many times I dreamed of doing this with you."

Something inside you awakened when he said that—something bold, you decided to replace his hand with your mouth. His deep and guttural moans were enough to encourage you to keep going and take his entire length.

Your mouth is so warm and fuck babe was all you could hear him say. It gave you a confidence boost hearing his constant praise.

You continued until he suddenly tugged your hair, pulling you off his cock. Frowning, you looked at him wondering why he did that when he seemed to be enjoying it.

"Sorry, sweetheart, I was about to cum."

Disappointed you made your way back up his body, kissing him deeply once more. He flipped the two of you over so he was back on top, kissing your neck and feathering soft kisses around the bruised skin before moving down to your breasts. He alternated between both of them, giving them equal amounts of attention by biting and sucking at the flesh and biting at your nipple.

"S-Satoru," you moaned, arching your back to meet his chest, as he descended further and further own your body to where you needed him the most. On his way down, he muttered a "Lift your legs." before removing your soaked pair of panties that he threw somewhere in the room, not caring where they landed. He was quick to dive head-first into your sopping cunt, lapping at your entrance with his tongue, exploring your walls until you were softly moaning his name.

"Fuck you taste so sweet," you could hear his muffled voice from between your legs. He encircled his thumb on your sensitive bud before looking back at your slit, slightly spreading your lips apart to look at your weeping hole. He sat up, grabbing hold of his cock and rubbing it up and down your slit, teasing you to the point of tears.

"S-Satoru, Please!"

"Fuck. Good Girl," he muttered before sliding himself in.

“Ngh—! Y-You—aaah!” You could feel your body being dragged back and forth, your hips being jostled as he continued to sink himself into you.

He was insatiable, he couldn't get enough of the tightness of your cunt. He was moaning loudly from the feeling of your warm, velvet walls milking his cock. He continued to thrust inside you, sitting up with his hands on your hips, keeping you steady as he rammed his cock inside you.

"That's it, gotta stretch you out," he says. “You’re taking me so well,” he groans, burying his face in your neck.

"Satoru," you moan, your walls clenching around his length. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer as you feel the ends of his soft hair.

He knows what he's doing, and you can feel that smirk he always has on his lips but surprisingly, he peppers kisses on your neck before he pulls away.

"Can you get on all fours?" he asks, halting his thrusts.

Wanting to please him, you quickly get on all fours and he immediately presses you back down onto the mattress. He lifts your ass as you arch your back even more. He palms the flesh of your ass in his hands before entering you once more.

You gasp, clutching the sheets in your small hands. When Satoru notices this he moves to interlock your fingers, pressing his chest against your back to pound into you.

"Satoru, ah—" you whine.

"I know, I know," he grunts. You can feel your walls tightening around his thick cock "Fuck—so good." you moan.

“Gonna make you cum so hard.”

His balls slapping against your ass feels euphoric, leaving you breathless and wanting to reach your orgasm. A couple of more thrusts against your g-spot bring you the most incredible orgasm.

“Fuck Sweetheart, I’m close.”

It takes a few more thrusts before his movements become erratic and you feel his cock twitch inside you. You feel his sweaty forehead drop against your shoulder as you both struggle to catch your breath. After a few moments, he lifts his head off your shoulder and moves to lie next to you. You flip yourself on your side, eyes focused on the ship's wooden panels as your chest heaves.

You feel Satoru shift next to you, pressing his chest to your back as he wraps his arms around you.

“Thank you, baby. Thank you.”

© satorulovebot 2024 please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my work.

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[hyperions-light]

hey I was planning another post today but instead let’s talk about how much I love that there’s not really a ‘good’ ending to the companion plotlines in Veilguard. It reminds me of Leliana and Alistair’s plotlines in DAO in that what you choose says more about the player/protagonist than anything

I just finished Isana Negat a second time, and I did the other ending and I thought it was just as good. Like, yeah, Harding does deserve to be angry! They did fucking get everything taken away from them! It’s so painful and horrific; yes you can, and should, be mad! But also Harding prioritizing her very real love for and compassion towards other people is not wrong. It’s just different! It’s just Rook’s friend/lover asking them for advice, and Rook giving it! You know, like in real life except with huge magical rock giants

And okay I’m never going to kill Illario because I think it would make Luca really sad and he has enough problems, Whoops I misremembered this, I don’t think you can kill Illario actually. I love that for Luca <3 But yk, I’m probably still not going to imprison him. but I can see it! Because the cycle has to end, right? The violence and infighting of the Crows endlessly attacking each other over power is part of what allowed the Antaam to get a foothold in Antiva, because there was like a double agent or something (if I’m remembering right from Tev Nights). Some kind of ending needs to be made to this endless violence. And I suppose it depends on how retributive Rook is, which is a great question to ask of the player (one that is asked repeatedly throughout the game). It’s not like Illario didn’t do anything, you know! He probably deserves punishment. But Rook, as they always can at various points, can be merciful, can choose absolution. Wow no, I’m glad I was wrong I love it more like this.

And oh boy, I LOVED the ending of Emmrich’s quest, don’t even get me started! Like!! I thought it was going to be ‘well obviously we HAVE to save Manfred’, but how Emmrich talks about accepting his death and his sacrifice convinced me! I was like alright man, this is a real choice! I actually did make him a lich last time (made a lot of sense from a Watcher perspective, imo) and not only was the cutscene sick as hell, but the follow-up was so funny and I got some really sad Spite dialogue which fucking wrecked me. It was great— seriously, his plotline is one of my favorites in the whole game.

And Davrin’s! I’ve already expounded at length about how much I like his quest line and how it ties into the Grey Wardens, but I really think both of his options for the griffons are so workable, because you know the Grey Wardens, especially under Antione and Evka, aren’t going to hurt those little guys again! But also the scenes with Eldrin are so endearing, and Davrin’s hope for a brighter future for them is so sweet and genuine. It’s hard to pick! It’s about Rook's perspective!

Neve's I'll admit I don't vibe with as much just because of the like 'trust the authorities' angle, but i haven't tried saving Minrathous yet and I think it would be sooooo involving as a Shadow Dragon especially. Because that's what they're fighting for, right? That better Minrathous where they CAN be sure that if they send the insane cultist lady to prison she’s going to stay there? But there’s always the practical consideration of people’s lives being at stake NOW, of Neve needing her friends safe NOW. And just killing Aelia ensures she will never be an issue again. So I can see both angles for sure

And Taash ;-; oh, Taash. I haven’t posted about them that much yet because they make me very emotional and it’s hard to organize thoughts like that. But I really love their quest, and their struggle to define themselves. And look, I know people wanted the option to tell them they could be both, but like as a person who has lived a similar experience, it really feels sometimes like the world is making you choose. It can feel like you’re not enough of either thing for anyone. And there are parts of your identity that you will have to make a choice on, and I think it’s trying to speak to that. I did the Rivaini one, and it’s like… well, they’re embracing the culture of Rivain, but it’s not like anyone is ever going to look at them and NOT see a Qunari. You can’t get away from that. What you choose to do in response is a real dilemma and I think that if you engage with the text genuinely you can see what Trick was doing. Also, there is a really great dialogue from Rook that I think gives more context to the discussion; they can say that they have been many things, and it’s important to take what works from each experience and make it part of yourself. So I don’t think Taash’s plot is trying to make them throw away any of themselves, just defining priorities. (Sorry, that got long. Feelings, opinions about that one)

And I don’t think Bellara’s is obvious, either, especially with how they involve the Nadas Dirthalen in her personal plot. This is a thing that is really emotionally and culturally significant to her, but at the same time it is part of what hurt her brother and ultimately took him away from her. She’s really preoccupied with not causing harm by her actions; she spends the whole game worried about it! And even though Rook doesn’t see the dangerous elements of the repository, that doesn’t mean they’re not there. The puzzle quest you can find in Arlathan proves that other people besides Cyrian were taken in by Anaris. And also, there’s the plot thread they briefly touched on in the last game which is that the culture the Dalish have built, that they have RIGHT NOW, is not wrong. But it’s also important to remember history, even if it’s unpleasant or could be dangerous, which is another thing you can discuss with Bellara during the game. So there’s no wrong choice! It’s just about Rook and Bellara and what’s important from their perspectives.

Anyway it was super refreshing to have these kinds of choices! It reminds me of the best character choices in DAI and DAO, especially, and I’m so happy they carried those things forward and improved on them.

[wundergeek]

Excerpt from a 4K word fic of me being Very Normal About G'raha along these lines - - -

THEN

I returned, dazed, to the bottom of the lift.

Alisaie gave me a too-innocent smile. "How was your talk with the Exarch?"

Shit. She knew. Of course she knew.

I fought down a surge of panic. We'd never made what we had official - in fact, Alisaie had shut me down every time I'd tried to mention my burgeoning feelings. But she still deserved to know that I'd kissed someone else. "Alisaie, I..."

"You want to fuck the Exarch," she said, smirking.

My cheeks burned. "It's complicated," I mumbled.

Which it was. I'd kissed the Exarch, but I wasn't sure I wanted to fuck him. On the other hand, I'd wanted to fuck G'raha, but never got a chance to kiss him.

"I don't know how I feel about fucking the Exarch, but I did kiss him. And I'd like to do it again. But. I won't if you don't want me to."

To my relief, Alisaie shook her head. "No promises, remember? We could all die tomorrow, so why not chase what happiness you can today?" She rolled her eyes and punched me fondly in the arm. "Besides. Do I look foolish enough to think I can put a fence around a heart big enough to love the entire world?"

For the second time that day, profound, unutterable relief. She understood. "Thank you."

Alisaie waved her hand airily. "If you want to thank me, go get your boy."

I laughed.

- - -

NOW

The soul vessel is pulsing slowly, but G'raha is still unconscious. My magical senses tell me something seems to be happening, but it's happening a lot slower than it did with the Scions.

"Gods damn it, G'raha." I snap. "I had to watch you die, so if you haven't somehow managed to pull this rabbit out of your hat, I'm going to be... very cross with you." My voice breaks as the last comes out as a sob.

I put my head on my knees and weep.

I've cried myself out and am sitting there, trembling miserably, when G'raha finally stirs and opens his eyes. I see recognition, followed by confusion reflected in his red eyes. "Savvel?"

"G'raha!" I manage to give him a watery smile, but my heart is still in my throat. "How much do you remember?"

He blinks as he searches his memories. "I remember Elidibus," he says slowly. "And climbing the Crystal Tower and... Gods. Oh Gods, I remember turning--" I shush him as I pull him into my arms and stroke his back. He sobs and buries his face in my neck.

"I've got you, G'raha. We're in the Source. You're okay." My voice breaks, and I realize that I'm grinning like a fool and crying at the same time. "Everybody is okay."

"Everybody? ...really?"

"You're the last to wake up, on account of all the pesky security systems you've got around here."

G'raha laughs weakly, and it hits me all at once that somehow we did it. We won, and he's okay - better than okay! - he's alive, awake, and seems to have all his memories intact. My arms tighten convulsively around him and I nuzzle into his hair. "You're an idiot and I forbid you from sacrificing yourself again," I choke out. "Do you hear me?"

G'raha laughs again, and I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, "sometimes sacrifices have to be made."

"No." My voice is firm, the most firm, and I am definitely not giggling. "I don't accept that."

"You wouldn't."

And then G'raha's mouth is on mine. We kiss in a delicious frenzy of mouths and hands and moaning, so much moaning, and I realize that Alisaie was correct. I do want to fuck the Exarch.

Read the whole fic on AO3

G'raha, I would die for you

Okay. Replaying Shadowbringers rn and G'raha just got abducted by Emet-Selch, and this whole scene hits just as hard on the fourth play-through as it did on the first. Look at this fuckin face. This is the face of a man who loved you from a distance for A HUNDRED YEARS assuming you didn't even remember his fucking name, until you call out to him just as he's about to sacrifice his life for yours.

He's about to teleport himself into the Rift and fuckin' die, and still, that proof that you remember him, that you matter to him makes him so fucking happy.

And. Like. Take a minute to think about that.

Not only did he come up with this insane scheme to rewrite history, then actually have the brilliance to pull it off, but... he has lived MULTIPLE LIFETIMES for you, and walked into this situation anyway, fully thinking that he was going to die, and totally prepared to sacrifice more than anyone could possibly comprehend. Like - imagine living long enough to see the small community of refugees you harbored to grow into a vibrant city. Imagine being part of their lives as the first residents of the Crystarium have children, grow old, and die, even as their children are having children of their own.

Imagine an attack that happens during that second generation that kills a couple with a young child and taking her in because she has no one to care for her. Imagine taking time, despite all of your responsibilities and literally being on the clock to save the world, to raise her to be strong, loyal, and unfailingly excellent at what she does. She isn't your blood, but she's the closest thing you'll ever have to a daughter, and still you don't hesitate to leave when it's time to see your scheme through to its ultimate end - your ultimate end.

Imagine what it would have been like making those final preparations without being able to tell anyone that you were saying goodbye.

Imagine having tea with Chessamile and agreeing with her that you need to do this more often.

Imagine discussing improvements to the Crystarium with Katliss that you know you'll never see.

Imagine gossiping with Bragi and knowing you'll never get to hear how things turned out.

Imagine visiting Moren to give him a book and saying nothing as he insists that he'll return it to you when he's finished.

Imagine having lunch with Lyna, your daughter, who will find herself in charge when you're gone, and having to give her instructions about what to do in the event of your death.

Imagine having that much love in your life - an entire city that you built from the ground up, and whose residents you loved with all your heart, and who loved you just as strongly. And calmly bidding that entire life farewell as you take an amaro to Kholusia to rewrite history by saving the life of the person you love, thinking that you were nothing more than a minor footnote in their previous adventures. Then imagine finding out at the literal last second that they not only remember, but cared deeply about you the entire time, and still having the strength of will to sacrifice yourself anyway.

What an icon. What an absolute fucking legend.

[reveryfics]

Just Pretend

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Male reader

Summary: You sold your soul for Dean against his and Sam's wishes. Years later you return from hell and finally break about what happened to you.

A/n: Slightly based off "Just Pretend" by Bad Omens. I apologize if the pacing seems off. Wanted to thank everyone for the likes, reblogs, and follows as well.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The wind howled, whipping dust and leaves into a frenzied dance around the desolate crossroads. A lone figure stood there, a young man etched with the marks of desperation. He kicked at the gravel, a futile gesture against the weight of his decision. A shiver ran down his spine as he turned to face the approaching darkness.

A demon appeared, a smirk playing her lips.

"Dean Winchester," she purred, her voice a chilling whisper. Her eyes, twin embers of hellfire, bore into him. "Your soul for his."

He nodded without hesitation. "Deal." The words hung heavy in the air, a damning pact sealed with a chilling handshake.

A moment of quiet. A moment to say goodbye.

The hospital room was bathed in the sterile glow of fluorescent lights. Dean, pale and still, lay connected to a maze of tubes. The young man approached the bed, his heart heavy with sorrow.

A gentle kiss pressed to Dean's forehead.

"I love you, Dean," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry."

The demon reappeared, a harbinger of doom. With a chilling touch, she dragged him down.

Dean's eyes fluttered open. The room was silent, the machines humming softly. Sam's gaze met his, a somber understanding passing between them.

"No," Dean's voice was a hoarse whisper. "No, please tell me you're lying."

Sam shook his head, his own eyes brimming with tears. "I'm so sorry, Dean."

Dean's heart shattered. "So, just pretend my life's worth it?" he choked out. "He sold his soul for me?"

Sam hesitated, searching for the right words. "He loved you, Dean. More than anything."

The truth hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the ultimate sacrifice.

Four years later, the weight of his decision still pressed down on Dean. Every sunrise, every sunset, every fleeting moment was a stark contrast to the life he once knew. His world, once painted in vibrant hues of love and laughter, had been reduced to a monochromatic canvas of longing and regret.

He'd traded his soul for a life, a life that now felt hollow and incomplete. Dean often found himself questioning the morality of his choice, the worth of his existence. Was it truly just to steal another's fate, to cheat death in such a cruel and selfish way? The guilt gnawed at him, a persistent, unrelenting force.

He missed him, the boy with the kindest eyes and the warmest heart. He missed the way his boyfriend made him feel, the way he'd ground him, the way he'd pushed him to be a better man.

Every memory, every shared laugh, every whispered secret was a bittersweet torment. He clung to these fragments, cherishing them as if they were the last drops of a dying river.

Even the solace of alcohol offered little relief. As he raised a glass to his lips, he'd often find himself staring at a faded photograph, a tangible reminder of a love that had been stolen.

"Heaven knows I ain't getting over you," he'd murmur, his voice thick with emotion.

Dean stared blankly at the flickering TV screen, his mind a fog. The motel room, once a temporary haven, now felt like a prison.

The door burst open. Sam, his face etched with urgency, rushed in. "Dean, we need to go to Bobby's. Now."

"What's going on?" Dean asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"I don't know, but it's important," Sam replied, his tone serious.

As they approached Bobby's house, an eerie silence hung in the air. They hurried inside, their footsteps echoing through the empty halls.

The source of the noise was a room at the back of the house. As they approached, the sound of muffled sobs grew louder. They burst through the door, their eyes landing on a heartbreaking scene. Bobby, usually so strong and steady, was hunched over, his broad shoulders shaking with sorrow. In his arms, a young man, his face streaked with dirt and confusion, clung to him tightly.

Dean's eyes widened in shock as he recognized the face of the young man. It was his boyfriend, his beloved, his lost love, who had sacrificed himself four years ago to save Dean.

Overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, Dean rushed forward, pulling him into a tight embrace. Tears streamed down his face as he choked out, "I missed you so much. I love you."

His own eyes brimming with tears, returned the embrace. "I'm so sorry, Dean. I love you too."

It was late, and Dean lay in bed, his boyfriend cradled in his arms. The warmth of his body offered little comfort to the man who trembled uncontrollably, silent tears streaming down his face.

"Please, talk to me," Dean urged, his voice soft.

His boyfriend remained silent for a moment, his breath ragged. Then, in a whisper, he confessed, "It wasn't four years. It was eighty years for me. Every second was agony." He paused, catching his breath. "I felt everything they did to me—every cut, every brand. They'd heal me, just to start all over again." His sobs grew louder. "I can still feel their touch, Dean. I can't bear it."

Dean tightened his embrace, wishing he could shield his lover from the pain. They lay in silence for a long time, the only sound the rhythmic rise and fall of their chests. Finally, Dean spoke, his voice steady. "I'll never let them touch you again."

[toffeebrews]

Been seeing you reblog a bunch of Abyss!Sans related stuff. However, I have no idea who the guy is

Me want to know more about him

Mwhahaha MWAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA

Okay, well to summarise (there will be spoilers but also this comes on early on so its not too big of a deal)

Abyss comes from the au Abysstale, sometimes called "Celltale." He and the rest of his au code was erased. How does this not kill everyone in the au? Well, via the sacrifice of the most determined individual, of course , idk man. It's like...anime logic or something. This technically makes Abyss and the rest of Abysstale "codeless," making them unable to be assessed via the Doodlesphere and theoretically OT doors as well. The reason the au is sometimes called "Celltale" is because Abyss, his brother and presumably others are made of a new type of "soul" called "CELLS". It's explained that its theorized monster souls are unfinished and via completing it with DNA monsters are able to achieve a new level of magic and invulnerability. Thats putting it simply but there's a more in depth explanation in this lore dump in the new abysstale. To note, it's not like they can't die; they just can't be altered by changes in code.

BUT SIT DOWN, we haven't gotten to the main conflict yet.

Due to an incident involving some mysterious creature Abyss' papyrus falls into critical condition. Due to the brothers unique composition they cannot be healed by normal monster magic so Alicia (Abysstale Alphys) creates a teleporter so can move papyrus to a location with more resources safely but OH NO the teleporter goes wacky funky and that's how they end up the multiverse. Accidental teleportation.

You can also check out stuff about him yourself via the doc I made, cause information about him is kinda sprawled out. It's still a wip so don't mind random text without links...

Oh and Abyss is a sassy bitch...thats it!

[lalchimiedecupid]

For angsty lilia×agatha×rio inspiration? A slight alteration where Lilia didn't die at the trial, sooo consider this.

Rio has been there as long as there's been life. She was the one to see the first grass off with the first frost. She was there with the first ever person to die to taste the sweetness of poisonous berries she kissed at summer. She has been there through wars, survival, acts of sacrifice and selfless protection. Witches are short, bright-flamed sparks across the dark canvass of the night sky to her, a flame that burns so quickly she could barely notice.

Lilia has been there for over four centuries. She had been there during the most trying times, in the darkest of nights brightened by prayers and the pyres alike. She had been there before forests went thinner, before life became an endless loss of sisters and faith, before songs became blame and chants became curses. She had been there with her heart, dragging it forward in fear, and she saw the world change in ways so deep she could never find a fitting comparison, except: a candle being snuffed out in the lonely darkness. Agatha is a child next to her experience. Death? Her one true companion.

And Agatha has been there a little less. A shorter time, an even shorter experience. Blood so young and smoldering with emotions, it shines crimson. It shines warmth. Agatha, and her desires, her selfishness, her snark and laughter in the face of the most horrible. She is an old witch, yet still the youngest among all three. She is so, full, of life. They fall beautifully together. The darkness, the light, the flames of the time passage.

But – Agatha is the one to die first. Between Death herself and the witch who's had lifetime enough to fill the most demanding hourglass, Agatha's flame dies first, and they have to continue existing without its maddening, blinding light. In darkness. As they were before her.

sorry it got dark and kinda death-y but you asked and I couldn't stop word-vomiting haha

Sins of the Past Buried at the Old Creek:

I: The Fall

TW: Not specified yet, but the story will have more and more in each chapter as we discover the lives of Lilia, Agatha and Rio.

Lilia doesn't know how it happened. Why it happened. All she remembers was waking up in Agatha's embrace, cradled to her chest. The same woman who had walked out on her, walked out on Rio, walked out on everything they had built and vanished. The same woman she agreed to join on this walk down "The Witches Road". The same woman who has subconsciously comforted her after her hallucination. The same woman who had shared the story of the only scar she openly talks about while she hides the rest. The same woman who she watched yearn for Death but also run away from her. The same woman she sacrificed herself for. The same woman she now lays in her arms.

"Agatha?" She asked quietly as the brunette kept her close to her chest, where she once used to lay against, at night, or in the early hours of the morning.

"Shhh, you're okay" The younger witch said, voice hoarse and throat tight. An indication that, she either was screaming (which isn't a rare occurrence for her) or crying. Odd I know. Agatha kept to herself. Agatha refused to show signs of weakness. Agatha— Agatha loved dearly, and she hated it. She preferred to lust over the other, to let herself be driven by lust and desire, no matter how harsh and humiliating the punishment is in the second circle of hell.

After all, she was no stranger to punishment and heartbreak. In fact, she has grown to become it's own personification.

"I need a favor" Death whispered to the Sicilian witch

"A favor? From me?" A scoff. "Why? So you can wreck havoc all over again? So you may trick me into believing your claws won't dig deep into the corpses of those I try to nurse back to health?"

"Look—"

"Don't" Lilia hissed. "What do you want this time? Who is it?"

"Her name is Agatha, she's — she's with child. The pregnancy is dangerous and I— The child will be a stillborn, but I've offered her time"

A laugh. A cold bitter laugh.

"Time? You've offered her time? How come dear Mistress of Death?"

"Lilia—"

"Take a deep breath the baby lives!" The witch screamed, starling backwards with a hand to her womb, eyes wide and dissociated before slowly, they locked onto Death. "She's..That child is yours" Lilia breathed out.

"He is" Death answered ever softly. "And I— She needs someone, no one's as caring and gentle as you are"

"You want me? Your mistress to care for your child with the woman that doesn't you and I's history?"

"Please Melilla" Death doesn't beg, but sometimes in the late hours of the night, she finds herself on her knees begging for more than one thing at a time..

"I was falling" The older witch whispered as a hand so used to cause harm caressed her cheek tenderly.

"You no longer are" The words were murmured against her forehead, a small sniffle escaping Agatha.

"Soo...you two are—?" Jen asked confused with a tilt of her head.

"Don't" Agatha hissed, keeping Lilia close to her. "No no— don't sit up mea columba—" She said, keeping a tight hold onto Lilia, putting a stop to her attempt at sitting up.

"Agatha—" Lilia mumbled ever so quietly, the rasp in her voice causing waters to bubble up in the brunette's eyes.

That's when Billy knew that he needed to get Jen out of here. That and because Rio was standing in the corner with her dagger in hand, ready to chase them out.

"I'm not leaving" Jen insisted through gritted teeth as she tried to take a step forward, almost hesitantly but with pure determination. Because when Lilia looks at you with her sad eyes you can do nothing but agree to whatever comes out of her mouth.

Oh Lilia, the woman that you are.

"Jen we have to go—" Billy could only insist, grabbing the dark skinned woman by the arm and attempting to drag her away.

As soon as the doors closed in, that's what the realization settled for Agatha. Lilia was sacrificing herself. Lilia was finally giving into her suicidal thoughts. Lilia was giving up on her life for the greater good. No. No she can't let that happen.

"Billy" She could only gasp out as she grabbed the boy's face. "Listen to me" She insisted. "You want Lilia out" It sounded urgent, desperate almost.

"What —" The boy exclaimed.

"You want her out Billy! You want her out of there, you need Lilia OUT!" She said once again, on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Agatha I—"

"Focus!" She yelled once again, her hands on either sides of his face, pulling it closer to her, attempting to channel her energy.

"Focus on the Lilia you saw inside. Focus on her footsteps" The way she was holding onto his head made him both scared and slightly interested in her desperation to bring Lilia, a member of their coven, who she mocked and supposedly could care less and less about.

But none the less, Billy did as he was told, but the flashes were intense, the screeches and the sounds of the wall slowly closing on the ground. But there she was in her pink dress, falling.

"She's falling!" He exclaimed.

"Then catch her! Get her back to me!" Agatha shouted, her thumbnail digging into his cheek.

"Ow—Ow— I can't! I can't pull her back!" The teen said, face scrunched up in pain.

"You CAN! You CAN and you WILL!" She screamed into his face, causing Jen's attention to face them. "You pull her OUT RIGHT THIS INSTANCE!" She was desperate. And that was maybe even an understatement. A deep understatement.

"Pull her in, pull her to me, in my arms. Focus on the atoms in the air, surrounding Lilia, before she crashes, before she dies. Before I—I lose her" Her eyes wide and wet, full of tears she allowed herself to shed.

Sensing her despair, he focused onto the falling figure, her soul, her body and her mind, and it might've been too late now as a the tip of the sword entered her back before darkness engulfed his mind.

"LILIA!" His mentor, his hyperfixation for years, his— his whatever she was screamed as she caught onto Lilia and pulled her close to her arms.

"I'm not leaving her with them! With Death and her psychotic ex girlfriend that's also a witch killer!" The potion's witch said fiercely.

"Well then stick around and find out what happens when you stay with Death and her ex girlfriends" The line was delivered as a threatening whisper, with the dagger in hand, her skeletal body on full display. With a tilt of her head and a dangerous look in her eyes.

"Rio, don't" Came Lilia's quiet whisper.

And who knows what it is that Lilia has for both Death and the infamous Agatha Harkness to do whatever she says. But they do. They always do. And her words always work on them. When it's tenderly delivered, when it's soft and gentle, when it's words spat out of rage and pain, out of pain and sufferance.

Lilia was a soothing balm to their wounds.

You might ask yourself what wounds does Death herself have? Well, a skeleton is cold without a layer of muscles and skin. It's weak and breakable. How can it survive for so long as nothing but 'une macabre vivante'? Lilia was more than a Persephone, no, Persephone was Agatha. Once innocent now rotten to the core. Maybe she wasn't Persephone either, because God knows no innocence resides in her soul any longer. But Agatha was Agatha. Agatha was chaos and heartbreak. Was a self destructive fool but also a power hungry beast. Agatha was unpredictable. Agatha was Grief. Sorrow. Heartbreak. Agatha was all the flaws one could possess and put into one.

Agatha was good. Until she wasn't.

Rio was Rio. Rio was Death. Rio was Balance. Rio was good and was bad. Rio was nature and animals. Rio was instincts and tendencies. Rio was a mix of hedonistic dionysian and and absurd cynical. Rio is Death. The gentle breeze that kisses your blue lips and the harsh impalement that snatches you from life's warm embrace. That's who Rio truly is. The cycle of things.

And Lilia, sweet, gentle, tender, beautiful Lilia. She was life. She was light. The sun and the pretty skies. She was a Sunflower in a field of rotten suns. A lightbringer in the darkest of nights. A caress of silk and cotton. A breath of fresh air and a the smell of spring. The smell of damp mud on rainy days. The smell of the beach on a hot summer night in mid july. She was and is what brought true balance to Death and Heartbreak. She is what soothes the grief and the pain. She is what brings life to loss. She is and will always be Life.

❛°•☽☼☾•°❜

tag list:

@yourbasicqueerie there you go cousin🙏🏻🙏🏻

[crazygingerwitch]

Honestly this is really big for me. I'm a current Mormon, and this encapsulates my feelings about church history so well.

The Mormon church has some of the most well documented religious discrimination in US history. I'm also one of the rare creatures who was not raised in Utah.

Being a history buff and a Weird Little GirlTM, means that I connected with the persecution of the church a lot. Part of this was being too weird for even other people in my congregation to like me. Another part was not knowing I was asexual, lol. Both of these wouldn't have been too bad, but then I was also one of ten people in my high school who was a member of my church, if I was lucky.

Thanks to things like the South show and that one musical, people thought they knew everything about me. As I've grown, that has changed. But I am still someone who struggles because I feel like I can't express my church feelings to non-church friends, and I'm not out to any of my church friends. It's tough.

I don't fully know what I'm saying here, but thank you for understanding a part of the religion so many people want to forget. There are bad things in our history. People have big emotions and make bad choices. I'm glad that your post made me feel seen and not just a caricature of one aspect of myself. Thank you.

EDIT: And another thought! I feel like even 20 years ago there was more of an identity around the beginnings of our religion and our roots. And we still emphasize that. But we talk about people's faith, and their strength. As a kid I felt like we talked about how awful some of the people were who did those things and were sad/angry about what happened.

Because of the media portrayal/the Americanization of our religion, we kind of just push that all down. We forget the hurt. We forget that pain and sacrifice is apart of our foundations. I am glad overall that people have more freedom to be happier and there is less weight on the sad, but I don't want us to forget it completely.

Would you mind sharing the psalm and why you felt that person was the most humanist Mormon? I'm not religious at all but I find these sort of things very interesting.

In exchange I could offer the reason for my url ?

I'm warning you, this is kind of a mega essay, and it's fucking unhinged. Click at your own risk.

(Alright. You clicked.)

Psalms 137

By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept

when we remembered Zion.

There on the poplars

we hung our harps,

for there our captors asked us for songs,

our tormentors demanded songs of joy;

they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”

How can we sing the songs of the Lord

while in a foreign land?

If I forget you, Jerusalem,

may my right hand forget its skill.

May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth

if I do not remember you,

if I do not consider Jerusalem

my highest joy.

Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did

on the day Jerusalem fell.

“Tear it down,” they cried,

“tear it down to its foundations!”

Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,

happy is the one who repays you

according to what you have done to us.

Happy is the one who seizes your infants

and dashes them against the rocks.

———

Mormonism has layers. Different cores of believers, cultures within itself. The largest group of Mormons also dominate its image within the larger culture. You know them as the nerdy, cheerful, bubbly dorks on South Park, or the hopelessly naive childlike weirdos from the Book of Mormon musical. Strangely sanitized, "wholesome" people that are, clearly, unwhole. Missing some essential part of the human experience.

(Pain, maybe?)

I think that embracing this image is letting Mormonism view itself as what it wishes it was. A group with all its rough edges sanded off, all its raw and desperate humanity scrubbed away. A clean and godly and slightly unsettling image of joy.

That isn't how it started.

Now, most people know the story of Joseph Smith. Fourteen year old farm boy starts a cult because the whole world if full of idiots, I won't repeat it because you've probably already got it from South Park. But at some point that weirdo cult did become a religion, and I would point to that moment as the Mormon War of 1838.

I don't know how far after the founding that was. Enough that Joseph Smith was a grown man. Enough that the Mormons had around 15-25 thousand members. They'd moved to the Illinois-Missouri area and were establishing settlements.

(They creeped the locals out. Of course they creeped the locals out.)

Eventually, they got pushed out of the county they'd claimed. Jackson County, it was. The state couldn't actually take that county from the people that expelled them, so to try and make the Mormons "whole" for the land they'd bought (ignoring the houses and farms they'd already set up) it gave them a new county.

Next election that came around, that county was sieged. Voting was blocked. Now, the people of the state were terrified that this weirdo voting block was going to take them over. They probably weren't wrong. Some former Mormons had straggled in from the county revealing a frankly corrupt land dealthat the early church had used to transfer resources to itself, and that served as a tipping point. To prevent their state from becoming a religious basketcase, a mob sieged the Mormon county during the next election.

The state tried to return order by sending the militia in to break up the siege, but the militia mutinied. They joined the siegers. A ground of strange, extremist violent Mormons known as the Danites rode out and attacked local settlements that were known to house the families of the militia members.

The Governor at the time - Lilburn Boggs - sent out an executive decree. The Mormons were traitors, and were to be killed on sight. It is the only religion in the US to have ever had such an order made against it.

The Mormons surrendered their county and went to Nauvoo, Illinois. There were again expelled from that city in 1846, and traveled west.

They died in great numbers and they never forgot the homes they lost.

———

I tried to tell the story as sympathetically to the people of Missouri as I could. The Mormons made messes wherever they went, and they unsettled everyone they interacted with. But they were attacked as well, and had a history of violence against them. It should not be totally surprising that they became insular and strange.

Many (most?) Mormons that learn all of their history wind up leaving the religion. It has twists and turns and knots and it is incredibly, overwhelmingly human. I think that's where the facade of Mormon perfectionism comes from - the shame of that. The desire to be something else. But being human is all I've ever wanted. And occasionally, there are people faithful in the church - layers upon layers deep - that know their history.

And they are angry about it.

I think it's more common than people realize. Did you know that until 1930 Mormons swore literal religious oaths of vengeance against the US government for the deaths of Joseph and Hyrum Smith?

I always felt like these were, in some way, the real Mormons. They knew their history, and they loved their church, and they hated what it had suffered all those years ago.

They scared me, those people. But they seemed complete. More complete than the people that had carved out everything that didn't make them smile. They'd walked into the mirror, and touched their shadow, and danced with. Melded with it.

And I knew a few like that. I was taught by one. And he didn't convince me, but he interested me. Gave me some respect for the people I left behind.

———

In the game Fallout: New Vegas, there is a character named Joshua Graham. He's a Mormon. Not like the silly children in adult bodies that they always use on TV. He has gravitas. He has put away his moral compass before, to pursue the dream of one powerful man. Poured his soul into it, helped that man conquer the whole west in piecemeal. He's a somewhat on the nose analogy of the Mormon people themselves, following Joseph Smith. And when he finally failed, when he fought a battle he could not win on the gates of the Old World Hoover Dam, he was lit on fire and thrown into the Grand Canyon to die.

But he did not die.

He says he survived because the fire in him burned brighter than the fire around him. And it seems that way when you speak with him in game. There is something compellingly bright to him. Not shiny like a new toy, or a Utah teenager that hasn't seem just how grim the world can be. He's something blinding, compelling.

But that brightness casts shadows.

He is vicious. He was saved in the canyon by the family he left, the old Mormons of a new world. And he's trying to find that part of him again, regain the soul he lost pursuing someone else's vision. But that old vicious animal part of the covenant is with him. I see Joshua Graham and I see the animal that the Mormons became to survive the West.

And in the game, there is eventually a choice given.

You can lead the tribe Joshua has joined up with out of their Zion. Their Jackson County Missouri. Peacefully and perfectly and inhumnanly transcendant, the way the Mormons wish they actually were about everything. You can give him the chance to be what Mormonism has always wished it could be. Or you can fight with them and help them reclaim their paradise, but get your hands stuck deep in the muck of this world.

Joshua Graham knows his history. He knows all the homes his people lost. And whatever brightness he's trying to regain, whatever soul he's trying to win back from the world that takes and takes and takes and takes - he wants to give it all up again to let these people keep their home.

He knows his past and he is angry.

And as the player, you help him make peace with one of two things: Being human by being fallen, or keeping his soul at the cost of reliving the ancestral trauma of losing Zion yet again.

Both were pretty visceral decisions for a Mormon teenage Babylon to make.

(Tagging @boonebignaturals in this because I need a witness to my madness.)

[theocddiaries]

*On a GUN private jet* Abe: Hey, I found this little guy here. [shows a chessboard]: Any of you guys want to play to kill time? Shadow: Pass. Sonic: Sure thing. Abe: Nice. I might teach you a few things. [goes to set the pieces] Sonic: Oh, it's okay, I can play; Tails taught me. Shadow: Isn't that wonderful… [grabs Sonic's arm and pulls him close. Whispers]: Let him win. Sonic: What? Shadow: He's a grumpy loser. He mopes, he makes the face, he slams the door, then he said he didn't slam the door. It'll be better for everyone that he wins. Sonic: Shadow, please, stop being stuck on things that happened over fifty years ago. Shadow: Fifty years ago? I’m talking about how he acted last week because some agent’s kid beat him up at the Hungry Hippos game. Sonic: … Okay, I'll lose. [moments later, they've come back and are in GUN HQ] Abe: Thank you for your assistance, Sonic. Sonic: Always a pleasure to help. Abe: I'm glad you're not upset about our chess match from earlier. Nobody likes a sore loser. Sonic: So I've heard. Abe: I've got a kid's guide to chess back in my office. I can give it to you before you leave? Sonic: ...No, I'm good. Abe: You sure? You can color in the little players with your crayons. Rouge [comes in and walks to Shadow]: Hi. What's going on? Shadow: Towers and Sonic played chess. Rouge: And you told him to lose, right? Shadow: Yes, don't worry. Rouge: Good. Momma needs some extra cash this Christmas. Abe: Or you can give it to your fox friend. Maybe he can teach you better the second time. Sonic: … Are you calling my brother stupid? Rouge and Shadow: Damn. Sonic: You know what? Let's play a rematch. Rouge: Shadow. Abe: Okay. Game on. Now, I want you to go first. Now remember, try to open up the middle of the board. I'd have moved that guy two spaces. Rouge: Shadow, please, do something. Shadow: Don't worry, just because Tails taught him doesn't mean he can actually-- Sonic: Checkmate. Shadow: Or maybe he can and we're gonna have to go through one of those weeks.. Abe [blinks]: Huh? What? How'd you do that? Sonic: Want me to bring you the kid's guide so you understand it better? Shadow: Sonic. Sonic: Hey, you told me to let him win the first time, nothing about the other times. Abe [turns to Shadow and Rouge]: You did what? Why tell him to lose to me? Shadow: Because you're like a baby when you don't win. With the kicking and the eyebrows and the angry eating of the sunflower seeds. [Chittering] Abe: That's not true. Rouge: Oh, honey, it is. We're still picking up the shells from the horrendous episode of the Hungry Hungry Hippos. Abe: I don't mind losing to a chess genius. Sonic: Well, I wouldn't say genius. Shadow: True. That was an average move. He's not even as good as I am. Abe: You're not that good in chess. I beat you on our first mission together. Shadow: Did you really? Or did I let you win that one too? Abe: …You didn't let me win. Shadow: Hm. Why would I sacrifice my queen for your pawn, Abraham? Huh? Huh? Abe: I got it. Stop saying that… Rouge: Well, I guess we'll never know! Abe: Or we can find out right now. Rouge: No, it's-- Shadow: Are you sure you want to do this in front of people? Rouge: Shadow-- Abe: Sit down and let's settle this. Shadow: Gladly. Rouge [saddened]: I just wanted a pair of boots… [MOMENTS LATER] [through a phone call] Tails: Hey, Sonic, everything okay? Sonic: Yes, buddy, sorry for not calling. I arrived but I--uh--I kinda can't leave. Tails: Why not? What happened? You okay? Sonic: Yes, it's just-- Abe [in the background]: Stupid lab rat--Take this! Shadow: Damn it! Listen, I lose and I burn this whole facility with everyone inside! Sonic: It's just some déjà vu I'm feeling kind of icky about…

[lathepoquerose]

I have a Daedra OC and before you label me as cringe and take me out back to give me a quick and painless death HEAR ME OUT

So controversial take, but I don't think Tiber Septim/Talos is an Aedra, because he didn't make the core sacrifice that the original Eight did. However, I do believe he achieved CHIM and ascended because he was, at his core, a child born of Akatosh. And because of that birthright, I believe when Tiper Septim ascended as Talos, he became a Patron God beneath Akatosh.

I don't think it's a stretch to say that any Dragonborn could theoretically achieve CHIM. The requirements of achieving it are committing an act of love for Nirn and its people so great that it changes the landscape of time. As a Dragonborn, with a soul bestowed by Akatosh, like Tiber Septim, if one stayed a pure course it might even be the ultimate culmination of their service.

Gear switch: we know that the Daedric Princes, specifically Hermaeus Mora & Mephala, are frightened by entities that can fundamentally re-weave the Aurbis: see Ithelia. It's been suggested by ESO that Mora kept Miraak sanctioned for similar reasons: he was simply too powerful. His return would unweave critical threads of fate. Why?

Miraak's return would be an act of great hatred that would fundamentally change the landscape of time. If he had returned in the second era, he could have and likely would have killed Tiber Septim. Of course Mora would be afraid of this, because if an act of timeless love causes one to ascend, an act of timeless hatred could cause one to descend.

Do I think this descent would grant the descendant the same power as a Daedric Prince? No, just like Talos is a lesser Aedric God, this would be a lesser Daedric God, and what level of power and influence they hold would entirely depend on what method was used to descend.

For example; my OC Naome was created from fragments of its origin's soul shattered across thousands of time loops. Because of this, it's not a conscious descent of its origin, more so a mass of energy, similar to a poltergeist. It has a plane of Oblivion, but this plane is an extension of Mephala's sphere. It has little to no influence over the mortal world.

But that's not to say that more powerful methods could not be used. Taking my Miraak example, killing Tiber Septim would almost certainly cause a Dragon Break. An act like that could theoretically produce an entity closer to Talos in nature.

This is all mostly theory based, but I wanted some actual lore behind it if I was going to create a Daedra character. Hopefully this kinda makes some sense.

[patolemus]

Wip Thursday

Got tagged by @gege-wondering-around and @dontcallpanic so here you have another snippet for my demon!stiles au!

“So. I know what this thing is,” because there comes a point where your only option is ripping off the bandaid, and also, Stiles has exhausted all his other resources. “The good news is I know how to get rid of it.”

“And the bad news?” Derek already sounds like he doesn’t want to know the answer. Stiles would feel guilty, he really would. Only, Derek brought this on himself, really, letting Stiles into the pack all those years ago. He should just accept that Stiles will do his thing and rest easy.

“Uuuh… I’m going to have to talk to my Father and that always sucks,” and he’d been doing so well, too, dodging his messengers and little notice-me calls. The fire had been a little too on point, though.

“The Sheriff? What for?” Scott tilts his head in that way that makes him look exactly like a puppy. Stiles has a sudden urge to squeeze him until he bursts.

Heh, good old cute rage.

“Oh, no, not my dad. My Father. Completely different people,” Stiles is met with blank expressions. Huh. Right, the puppies don’t know who his Father is. Eh. Not his problem. Derek can explain it to them on his own time. “Anyways, it’ll be a pain in the ass because I’ve been trying to avoid his calls for a while now and he’ll be so clingy and smug, but I’ll take one for the team,” he says, ever so graciously. Ugh, Belial is going to be unbearable, too. Stiles is so not looking forward to that conversation.

More blank stares. Stiles smiles, nods once and turns around. He’ll have to go kill an animal or something for his sacrifice, since his Father still refuses to get signal on Hell. So messy. Stiles hopes his Father understands he won’t be returning until he gets stable wi-fi connection because he is not giving up Google.

“What? Stiles that explains nothing!” Lydia says, exasperated. Stiles doesn’t know what she’s talking about, he made perfect sense of himself! “You haven’t even told us what this thing is!”

Oh. Okay, maybe that one’s on him.

Please don't take this seriously. I beg of you. Also I know this makes absolutely no sense at all but it will be. Eventually. Maybe. Hopefully. Tagging @oldefashioned @salty-fryingpan @novasillies @hedwig221b and of course @dontcallpanic and @gege-wondering-around again, thank you so much for the tag!

[peach-top]

❝𝙑𝙄𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉❞

➤ ACT I. | CHAPTER II.

➤ WHITE LILY COOKIE.

“I see…That's what it’s like. The tree sealed away the first soul jam holders…” [Y] muttered after reading the books. “...Corrupted…Seems very familiar…”

“...” Elder Faerie flinched. “Is he picking up on the memories?”

“How sad…I feel sorry for them…” the taller male mumbled before closing the book and putting it back in place. Elder Faerie asked, “Are you done with what you're looking for?”

“Yes, but there's still a lot I would like to know. However, I'll save that for later.” [Y] answered. The elder faerie nodded, “Follow me. There's so much you must see here at the Faerie Kingdom.”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Before [Y] was being guided around the kingdom, he was given new clothing that matched the Faerie Kingdom.

“There's so many white lilies here at the Faerie Kingdom…” [Y] mumbled upon spotting the white lilies. He could hear the faerie cookies singing about a certain cookie who helped seal the tree. The white lilies represent that cookie for their heroic act.

“Ah. I think I understand…” [Y] whispered. Elder Faerie nodded, “We are still awaiting her to be awoken.”

“Awoken? Whatever happened to her?” The taller male questioned.

“Have you heard of Dark Enchantress Cookie?”

“...Hm. I think I may have heard of her. Just never seen her in person.”

The elder faerie gestures to the male to follow him to the garden. Upon arriving at the garden, there was a glass coffin with a white haired female lying there in eternal sleep. [Y] could sense that this female is only a half.

“Half soul…?” [Y] questioned.

“I see that you catch on. Indeed, this is the half soul of White Lily Cookie. As I mentioned about Dark Enchantress Cookie before. She's the other half of White Lily Cookie.” Elder Faerie explained. “Allow me to explain the tale behind this.”

[Y] listening in on the tale about White Lily Cookie arriving at the Witch's Banquet to witness the truth on why cookies were made. This is like the first time [Y] heard about the witches. It's indeed such a tragic tale for White Lily Cookie.

“I see…She was newly baked as Dark Enchantress Cookie. They're only half…” [Y] mumbled.

“Good to know that you understood the tale behind the savior of the Faerie Kingdom. It's hard to bear…” Elder Faerie frowned.

“I wish I could try to wake her up, but something seems to be missing…” [Y] hummed. He then perked up, “Ah.”

The taller male reveals his life stone and holds his hands out at White Lily. Elder Faerie looks at him confused, “What are you doing?”

“Waking her up.” [Y] responded.

Elder Faerie gasped, “Pardon me? You're willing to sacrifice your life to…wake her?”

“You wanted her back, right? I've been practicing this sort of magic for a long time and it's now my chance to finally test this spell on a human being.” the taller male stated. [Y] then mutter ancient languages. Elder Faerie watched in shock as a large circle surrounded the coffin. He covered his eyes, blocking the light from his view.

The elder faerie thought as the light faded away.

“It should work…” [Y] mumbled.

“...!?”

It only lasted a few minutes until White Lily finally opened her eyes. Surprised by her awoken, she jolted up, only to accidentally hit her head on the glass lid, catching both [Y] and Elder Faerie off guard.

“Ow…” White Lily whined, rubbing her sore head.

“White Lily Cookie?” Elder Faerie gasped as he rushed to the female's aid. He opened the coffin and checked on the female, “Are you alright?”

“...?” White Lily hummed in question. She looks up to meet the concerned eyes of Elder Faerie. “Huh? What? How? How am I here?”

“Ah. It works…” [Y] blinked owlishly, shocked to know that his spell actually worked. White Lily tilted her head, “What works? W…who are you?”

“Oh, I'm [Y]. The one who awoke you from your slumber. Sorry for the sudden awakening.” The taller male apologized. “I used my life stone to wake you.”

“L…life stone?” White Lily gasped. “Why did I wake up? I don't deserve to be here after what I've done. Just leave me be…”

“White Lily Cookie. The faerie at the kingdom are awaiting for your awakening. There's no need to blame yourself for what you have done.” Elder Faerie frowned as he helped the female out of the coffin. “People make mistakes. Even if it cannot be undone, there's still a chance to redeem yourself.”

“...That's something I cannot believe…” White Lily frowned. The taller male spoke, “He's right. We all make mistakes. The faerie here at the faerie looks up to you for your heroic act in sealing the tree.”

“Mistake or not, you are still forgiven for the action you caused. Which is why I have used my spell on you. To give you a second chance, not suffer.”

“...You…How are you doing this? Don't tell me you sacrificed your life for me…” White Lily Cookie frowned.

“I'm still alive and well. Don't worry about me. You're here now.” [Y] said.

“...”

“By the way, you're White Lily Cookie, right?” [Y] asked. “Dark Cacao told me about you. It's nice to meet you. I'm [Y]...”

“[Y]...? I don't think I've seen you before…” White Lily mumbled. Elder Faerie spoke, “He's…new here. Millennial Tree's former guardian of the forest.”

The taller male continues, “I'm on a quest. A quest to find myself. Trying to figure out who I truly want to be…I’m exploring around Earthbread to learn more about it. I'm curious what it is like to live outside of the forest.”

“...” White Lily frowned. Looking at this male remains her of herself when she's curious about the truth that led to her tragedy. What if [Y] suffers a similar fate as her?

“You are quite a curious one.” Elder Faerie mumbled.

“Having to live in the forest for hundreds of years, it's normal to be curious about the world.” [Y] stated. “The faerie seems to live longer than any cookies, even longer than Millennial Tree.”

The elder faerie nodded, “That's true. However, the previous soul jam holders lived before I was even baked to protect the tree.”

[Y] turned to White Lily Cookie, “White Lily Cookie, since you're here. You don't mind joining us for a tour? If not, maybe you should take a rest.”

“...I…I just need some time to calm my thoughts a bit…” White Lily responded.

“We'll leave you be. You do have a lot to catch up after all. It's important to relax.” [Y] stated. “Elder Faerie will help me take a tour around the kingdom.”

“...”

“...He looks familiar…Have I seen him before?” White Lily thought to herself.

➤ chapter i.

➤ chapter iii.

[femhiccy]

ARCANE SESON 2 ACT 3 SPOILERS!!!!

SPOILERS!!! LAST WARNING!!!

Seven things I can't stop thinking about after seson 2

Most of them are about Viktor because he is my favorite character, and I relate to him so bad ...

1. The parallel between Jinx and Viktor...

Inventors with potential

Both wanted good but end up making fucking disaster

Both turned against their loved ones

Both sacrifice at the end ( we don't know if they are dead, but...)

2. No one in their world would be ever know about this

3. Fucking jayvik butterfly

4. The another will in Jace, what Viktor was talking about in act two, was his own... it was Viktor's will....

5. Viktor wearing Jayce blanket... The blanket he gave him in Act 1, he made from it outfit in Act 2 because it's all that left him after Jayce... and he wore it in his final form after Jayce literally killed him... he is so not over him...

6 Viktor giving up, losing everything

They broke him completely that he lost himself, he didn't really work with ambessa he more use them to get what he wanted becouse then he takes control on her warriors too...all he wanted was better world for everyone, he just lose control on his dream, he was blinded... how the fuck he end up like this.... he was in shook when Jayce show him the true, he realized what he doing.. that it is far away from doing good.... he was so kind, good and ambitious men in the beginning... and he still was at the end, deep inside him, and Jayce found it....

7. " But you were never broken, Viktor.... There is beauty in imperfections, they made you who you are "

That line, just burned out into my heart...

I feel like failure whole my life... like I don't deserve love or anything... I feel like... I just so needed to hear that...

I am actually NOT OKAY....

But...

You know, the show is good if it changes your perspective of the world. Viktor and Jayce just improved my perception of word love. No kiss was needed, no s*x scenes and stuff, without it, I can feel their love...

I loved Viktor's character from the very beginning till the very end.. is he perfect ? No. Do I support all his actions ? No. But I can feel that men, I can understand him, and I feel like he would understand me

The only character I relate to more now is Hiccup...( but I relete to him since I was 15 years old so.. ) but Viktor done impossible he gets close to him.. to me....

The show was fucking amazing and I don't know if I finished it or it finished me ...

Music was a masterpiece. the show isn't perfect, but it's really, really good, in my opinion.

This and HTTYD gonna be my favorite movies/series till the day I die...

If arcane or httyd have 0 fans, i am dead ...

What a show....

Who will pay for my therapy....

[arcane-ish]

The Pros and Cons of killing Warwick

Let me start off with:

Why I personally don't care for it

I think it's silly that a character defined by his healing factor dies. I like the spooky idea of a scary mindless Warwick roaming the streets and caves of Zaun. Vander losing his humanity and memories seems like a dark, ironic and tragic ending enough. Because we already saw him die in season 1, have him as a potential cliffhanger death in s2act2, to have him gave another "this time for realsies" death seems more like diminishing returns to me rather than "zomg, the parallels and the symmetry". To me it sounds kinda tacky.

I also feel like season 2 didn't really succeed that much in establishing Vander as his own character as opposed to just an accessory for Jinx and Vi (ie the point of his flashback is just to double down his long and deep his parental relationship with them runs), which to me takes away some of the heft of his death.

The reasons why it seems likely

Warwick isn't one of the main pretty people characters the way Caitlyn, Vi, Jinx, Jayce and Viktor are. (From a pure business POV we know that monster champions are less popular and sell fewer skins) That alone makes him a more likely candidate.

Symmetry, parallels and themes

The show arguably kicked into "omg, this is serious" gear when Vander died. And season 1 ended on Silco's death, another father figure. So one can argue that Warwick dying is a parallel to that.

There is also the persistent theme in Arcane that maybe keeping people alive after their death isn't great (ie Singed/Orianna, Viktor telling Jayce he was supposed to die) and that you need to let go of the past.

Another aspect is that Vander's story is about becoming a monster and that Vander tried to resist violence (while Silco embraced it). So one can assume that Vander hates what he has become.

Vander is also defined heavily by his status as a parent so him sacrificing himself to protect Jinx or Vi seems fitting (sacrifice being another theme in s2).

There's also the aspect of what he represents in Vi and Jinx's story. That maybe they have to overcome him or as they become adults and become self reliant it's okay for him to leave the story. Or that he has "done his job" by bringing the sisters together.

The symbolism of it all

One thing that likely isn't intended, but, if we presume that Vi will join Caitlyn in Piltover (rather than Cait moving to Zaun or both staying on their side and meeting in the middle, of I can't overlook the symbolism that the Wrath of Zaun has to be distinguished for that to happen.

Or that both leaders of the original revolution die, maybe coinciding with Piltover and Zaun forming an alliance.

Remember, in League Warwick is called the Uncaged Wrath of Zaun. So maybe the characters have to symbolically overcome Zaun's anger for the sake of a better tomorrow.

However

I know there likely just isn't airtime left in the remaining episodes, but you know what would imo would be an efficient way to make Vander's death more resonant? Give us a flashback between young Silco and Vander where they discuss strategy for example for the battle on the bridge and Vander says no, he doesn't want to turn into a monster. Driving home the tragedy of when he gets turned into a monster that has to be put down.

[saintsenara]

For unhinged and deranged ships: Snape/Bellatrix.

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i adore these two haters, and not just in a "toxic situationship which leaves dozens dead" way.

because - as the most delusional snapemort defender in history, who would also defend bellamort with my life - i think it's inherently plausible that snape spends his period as a death eater during the first war feeling profoundly jealous of bellatrix.

after all, she's the dark lord's favourite - and voldemort isn't exactly shy about this being known [she wouldn't run around yapping about he "calls me his most loyal, his most faithful" if she had even the slightest feeling that voldemort would murder her for leaking his pillow talk] - which means that, if you go in for the idea that he's sleeping with her, i think you can argue that he also permits her some degree of public physical affection. i don't think they're holding hands during acts of terrorism, or anything like that, but i do think that bellatrix is summoned away from group settings to join voldemort, everyone knows what they're about to get up to, and the dark lord doesn't care.

snape - in contrast - is kept as a pretty clandestine part of voldemort's operation. karkaroff can't think of anything specific to credibly accuse him of, sirius isn't fully convinced he could have been a death eater, and so on.

and this makes sense - it's clear that snape gets taken on by voldemort in a back-of-house role [to be a spy he can eventually place at hogwarts, and very probably originally to brew for him], and is peripheral to the more public-facing, combat side of voldemort's terror. which means that any time he spends with the dark lord is probably one-on-one - and any affection he receives from voldemort during these sessions [and look, i ship it...] is similarly private.

but it's also clear in canon that this order only continues for a few months after bellatrix gets out of azkaban, before things start to shift and she finds herself having to be the jealous one.

from the start of half-blood prince onwards, snape usurps bellatrix in voldemort's public favour [no matter what he's like with either in private]. and we know that she's not thrilled about this - not least because she's correctly worked out that snape's not trustworthy and voldemort's only response is to tell her to wind her neck in.

and we also know that snape fucking loves how annoyed she is - he's having the time of his life roasting her when she cockblocks narcissa by stomping around his front room [the line about "endless reminiscences of how unpleasant azkaban is"... a third-degree burn, i fear] - and that all of snape's best pairings feature that "we literally cannot stop hurling insults at each other, i will not rest until i've told them this next zinger, i am incapable of letting anything go" dynamic.

textbook enemies-to-enemies-who-fuck.

where this turns into enemies-to-lovers... is that both snape and bellatrix are clearly profoundly lonely people. and not only that, but profoundly lonely in strikingly similar ways - above all in that they're in love with someone who doesn't want them in the way they'd like to be wanted. i don't think bellatrix loses anything of her character - her cruelty, her temper, her resilience - if we also imagine her as a bit of a hopeless romantic [her joy at voldemort complimenting her - "no higher pleasure... that means a great deal, bellatrix, coming from you" - which vanishes when he turns it into an insult is but one example] who would jump at the chance to be mrs riddle. snape's unrequited love is well known.

neither of them seem to have friendships in which they're the priority - snape is close to lucius malfoy, but the relationship is nonetheless transactional; bellatrix clearly adores her sister, but she's secondary in narcissa's concerns to her husband and son. they live their lives in service to men who regard it as their duty to sacrifice themselves for their cause - snape with dumbledore, who may like him, but who also thinks of him primarily as a tool to bring about voldemort's defeat; bellatrix with voldemort, who considers her to have done the bare minimum in terms of loyalty to him by enduring fourteen years in azkaban [even though he also thinks this places her above all her fellow death eaters, who didn't even do that]. they both have experience of imprisonment - snape metaphorically, trapped in the school he doesn't seem to have particularly enjoyed and the childhood home he thought he'd escaped; bellatrix literally. they're both voldemort's exceptions in terms of the demographics of the death eaters - snape on account of his social class; bellatrix on account of her gender - which means that they depend entirely on maintaining the dark lord's goodwill and are peripheral to the elite male social group which makes up the rest of the inner circle.

and these similarities mean that they have a pretty high chance of being able to understand each other, comfort each other, and help each other move beyond their isolation...

until voldemort gets jealous, that is.