#the fear of what is coming in the inevitable future. the fear that her child happiness will be taken away from her

[roboyomo]

slowly introducing you guysies to more and more of my ocs aka little beasts. and today you are getting Artemis (or Sora) :] she is also part of the Deadly Seven Sins crew like Kenix (Lust), Azrael (Envy), Aridam (Pride) and etc. amongst the seven, her sin is Sloth

remember when i mentioned in a post that Kenix has a daughter (not a biological one obviously)? yea this is her. this ice magical girl beast and creature who is so awfully :3 is the daughter of the mentally insane god of time (the twin gods since ken is right there but you get what i mean)

[litchifaerie]

hii! i hope you’re doing well!!

can i get a jace fic where she’s his younger sister and she’s just really dependent on him, and like follows his around and tried to stay w him while he’s really protective of her especially from the greens

pairings: protective!jace x valeryon(strong)!reader

warnings: not quite angst unless the last line. but the tension is there, fluff i suppose, romantic tension, canon typical incest. if anything else let me know, MAJOR SPOILER FOR FIRE & BLOOD/FUTURE HOTD

word count: 1.8k <3

masterlist

a/n: I am sorry i have been tardy with my promise but here is your much awaited request!!

You liked it here. Laying in bed, reading a book of poems while your mother combed through your hair. Rhaenyra always had a soft spot for her only daughter, caving in and allowing every reasonable whim you had. “Mother” you speak slowly, putting the book down and holding it close to your chest. Rhaenyra stops her gentle movement, looking down at you with fondness, “yes my child”?

“Can we stay here in king’s landing for longer?” you ask, “I do not wish to leave grandsire’s side yet. The maesters do not bring news of improvement any longer and I fear….” You trail off not wanting to word it out loud. Rhaenyra knew of the gravity of her father’s health but she feared the wedge between her children and her half siblings will only give rise to new fights and arguments every day.

“You know we can’t my dove”, she pets your head affectionately, “who will look after Dragonstone with us gone?”

“Please”, you request sitting up and turning your back to face her, “I do not want to risk not being here when he passes away and miss my chance at a last good bye.” Even Rhaenyra couldn’t argue with your words. Your request comes from a place of adoration for your grandfather, he was quite fond of his elder granddaughter, but Rhaenyra also contemplated what can go wrong if she isn’t here for her father’s death. No matter the legitimacy of her being named heir to the throne, she is well aware of the whispers at court, the scheming of the hand and the queen. Aegon Targaryen cannot be king if she is here to take control of the situation.

“It’s settled then” Rhaenyra agrees after a beat of silence. “We shall stay here for as long as you desire.” A smile of gratitude makes its way on your face at your mother’s words and you are quick to embrace her “Thank you mother”. Rhaenyra chuckles, rubbing soothing circles on your back “Now rest my dove, it has been a hectic day.” She leans in to kiss your forehead “sweet dreams”.

You make your way beneath the sheets, head resting comfortably on the pillow “Farewell mother”. With one last look at you Rhaenyra steps out of the room. The door closes softly behind her, letting the dim glow from the candles lull you into sleep.

Morning arrives gently, with sunshine streaming through the windows casting a soft glow in your room. The ladies assigned for your care had let themselves in, rousing you from your sleep and ushering you to the bath to get ready for the day.

The baths at King’s Landing were more majestic than back home. You take your time soaking in the warm water with jasmine oil and rose petals, sighing in pleasure. It didn’t take long for you to get dressed with the help of the ladies and having your breakfast alone, opting for some calm in the morning knowing your brothers and uncles will inevitably destroy any sense of peace in the coming hours.

“I’d like to take a stroll through the keep, alone. Much has changed since I’ve been away.” The guard assigned for your duty only nods at your command as you make your way out of the room. The seven-pointed star glares at your face at every turn you make, a stark contrast to the regal décor the keep had in your childhood.

“Sister! Wait!” comes a voice from your right. You stop turning around only to be faced with a panting Jacaerys. “Brother” you greet with a slight smile “You are up early today” you tease. “I was looking for you” says Jacaerys, ignoring your teasing. “I was wondering if you were alright after last night’s events”.

You slightly wince at the memory of Jace throwing a punch at Aemond and Aegon and Luce starting a brawl of their own. Your cousin Baela even tried jumping only for you to grab her by the waist as you yelled for them to stop.

“I’m alright” you dismiss his worries. “It was just a graze”. Aemond’s elbow had hit you in the cheek causing you to yelp in pain. Aemond’s actions did stop midway not expecting you to be so near and get hurt but it only spurred Jace even more as he landed even stronger punches than before at his uncle’s jaw.

Jace gently reaches a hand up to caress your face. “Its good it didn’t bruise” he thumbs at your cheek, “I’d not let it go if that brute ruined your pretty face”. And there it was again. Jace always had a penchant for using certain choice of words which reddened your face.

“Jace” you warn, “Do not fall prey to our uncle’s provoking. You know both of them only say words to rile us up.” Jace let’s go off your face sighing “I can’t help it if they accuse us of…” Accuse us of what? The Truth?

The somber tone in his voice lets you know of his mood dropping. It was only the start of the day and you will be damned if you let your older brother sulk so early. “I’d like to accompany you to your training if that’s alright with you?” Nothing makes him happier than being able to show off his skills to his younger sister and you are well aware of that. Jace is quick to look at you with shining eyes and agrees to your request.

You follow after him as he excitedly tells you of a new method he learnt from Daemon, smiling at his words and nodding when you think its appropriate to let him know you are attentive. Jace liked having your sole attention on him. It was just you and him in the beginning. His mother told him that the first time he saw you when he was a boy of two, you had looked at him as if he hung the moon and the stars in the night sky. Your crying would only stop if your older brother was there to shush you with his toys. You were the happiest baby when in his presence, trailing behind him like a little duckling, a trait which you still carry. Nothing soothes your nerves like being near Jace.

You watch as Jace spars with a squire. A sheen of sweat on his forehead making him look godly in the late morning sun. “I do not think its fit for a lady to be here niece” comes a chilling voice from right behind you, closer than you’d like that voice to be. “Uncle” you greet, your eyes not wavering from Jace at all, “I think I can go wherever I’d like. The Red Keep is my home as well after all.” Aemond smirks at your reply. Out of all the strong bastards you were his favourite to toy with. The boys were quick to throw punches but the ability to sometimes make you unable to come with a witty response brought him immense satisfaction.

“Hmm” he hums, coming to stand by your side, a little too close for comfort, “I hope my elbow didn’t cause you any harm princess. It would be unfortunate to see your brown eyes blacken from my unintentional hit.” Brown eyes. He emphasized it. He is trying to make you take the bait again. And his backhanded words of comfort and presence did unnerve you more than you’d like to admit.

“If you wish to see how real men train perhaps you should watch me instead of your no good of a brother. He moves like a boy who was gifted a sword a day ago” Aemond whispers in your ear. His breath hitting your skin makes your skin crawl and you shiver in disgust, moving back and putting a distance between yourself. “No thank you” you decline politely. “I prefer my brother over all”. Aemond only gives a sly grin at that, “Even in your bed?” he mocks.

What was stopping you from slapping this bastard from even suggesting such nonsense. You grit your teeth in frustration, almost hitting him yourself when a protective arm wraps around your waist bringing you back into a sturdy chest. “Who my sister brings into her bed is none of your concern dearest uncle” Jace says cooly. “And I suggest you refrain from using certain phrases that will bring the honor of my sister into question” he raises his brows at Aemond challenging him. “I’d hate to dislocate your jaw over some misunderstanding, we are family after all.”

One thing Aemond had learned from the beginning was Jace will never lose a chance to be your protective guard dog. He could hit two birds with one stone by simply choosing to pick on you instead. Why rile up one Strong bastard when you can rile up two? “I’d like to see you try” Aemond grins leaning in to challenge your brother.

“Jace” you whisper, “Don’t.” Aemond chuckles at your warning. “Aww will poor Prince Jace listen to his sister like an obedient mutt?” Jace clenches his jaw at his statement. “He isn’t worth it Jace” you interlock your fingers with Jacaerys’s trying to tug him away. Once you are able to move him from his spot, you lead Jace away and turn to Aemond to give him a disgusting sneer “You’re pathetic.”

Aemond's grin widens, his eye gleaming with amusement as he watches you walk away, Jace's hand still in yours. "Run along, little dove," he calls out mockingly, but you don't look back.

As you and Jace walk through the courtyard, the tension slowly eases from his shoulders. "You shouldn't let him get to you," you whisper, glancing up at him with a reassuring smile. "He only seeks to provoke."

Jace nods, but his grip on your waist tightens protectively. "I won't let him hurt you," he promises, his voice low and determined. "Not ever." You squeeze his hand, drawing strength from his presence. "I know, Jace. I know." You kiss his cheek gently hoping to calm him “No one can hurt me with you breathing down my neck” you giggle trying to lighten the mood.

He rests his chin on top of your head. “I won’t let any harm come to you ever. No one can hurt you.” His arms squeeze around your waist.

You always felt restless without Jace, and nothing brought you more comfort than being in his arms. You never have to worry about being safe with your brother around.

But years later when you crumble at the sight of the body of Jacaerys Velaryon with an arrow through his neck, no one is prepared for the wail of anguish that leaves your throat at not having your Jacaerys beside you anymore.

[fruithoughts]

  In this world there are a couple of absolute truths; the sun will explode someday, the water is wet, capitalism is a demon and of course, Yoon Jeonghan is madly in love with his best friend.

     CW: agegap(he’s 29 and she’s 23, they met when she was 19 and he was 25), bigdick!Jeonghan, fem!reader, friends to lovers, he’s so condescending but in the sweetest way?? what an asshole omg, one reference to him being a smoker, idiots in love, a lil bit of dom!jeonghan.

It's a classic, from the very first time they met, the bastard already knew he was going to end up in bed with the pretty girl with the coffee colored eyes, she retorted his unfunny jokes even when her red cheeks gave away that she was embarrassed, played along all of his little games just to give him hope that this time she had fallen into the hands of the big bad wolf, she was made just for him.

The special treatment Jeonghan provided her didn't sneak under anyone's noses, it was obvious, the only person other than himself that he allows to win during table games, just one look at him with that curious puppy face is enough to make him melt whole, he’s that weak. The only person he listens to when she tells him to stop cheating in games, that guy would give all of  the stars in the universe to his girl, would fix the ozone layer in 3 business days max if she complained about global warming today.

  "I could live like this" oh, that persisting little thought, always wandering in the man's head while he is around his friend, just waiting for the right moment to invade his frontal lobe and consequently force his heart into beating fast like crazy by making him think about the calm and happy life he could have alongside his love.

    The dreamer thinks and thinks while waiting for his girl to finish brushing her teeth, a silly smile stamped on his rascal face as he stares at the ceiling of her room, ironically, they were watching Friends in her bed, as always; against the will of his girl who insisted that the series was silly and he only liked it because he was old.

  As strange as it can sound, they had already slept in the same bed hundreds of times, most of those times due to Hannie’s habit of refusing not to take her with him everywhere he went, which more than often left them with only one hotel room to share, these nights were the most special, nothing sexual happened, which made them even more intimate.

The pointless conversations before bed, faces a few inches away as they discuss each and every scenario that his favorite girl proposes, "What name would you give your child? What if it was a girl?", "If the world ended and only the two of us were left, where would we go? Would you protect me?" She was always more touchy with him when she was tired, he loved every second of it. They cuddled until the princess fell asleep, her warm breath on his neck drove him wild, he wanted to fill her face with kisses, but he never had the courage, always waiting for the right time.

Now that once again he found himself in his friend's bed, just a month or so before his military service called for him, he wondered if he let the right time pass right by him at some point in the last 4 years, it was his biggest fear. What if the fact that he had hookups here and there over the years made her think he had no interest in her? What if the fact that he kept posting stories and photos with her made her come to the conclusion that he doesn't have romantic feelings for her because he wouldn't risk showing his possible future girlfriend to fans, and only posts things with her exactly because they’re completely platonic? 

With the date of the inevitable farewell between the lovebirds approaching, something had changed, Jeonghan couldn't quite figure out exactly what it was, but things were different. His girl always loved him(just not in the way he desired so much), he always knew that, she, who was always closed off with others; had no problem holding his hand under the blanket while watching movies or laying her head on his shoulder during car trips while Seungcheol screamed at Dokyeom because he took the wrong turn again, these moments felt like little secrets, his pretty flower laughing softly at the car fights while the bastard uses their proximity to draw invisible shapes of hearts and dicks on her bare thigh until he gets his hand slapped away when she inevitably realizes what he was drawing, in they’re little world in the back seat, no one would ever know.

Well, never? Maybe it was the wrong word, especially now that everything has changed. For some reason, his friend suddenly started offering him 3 times the attention he was used to receiving from her, holding his arm while waiting in line at the grocery store, hugging his waist and hiding her face behind his back while waiting for the uber, deliberately holding his hand as they strolled through some parking lot, suddenly her behavior made it obvious to anyone with eyes to see that they were in a romantic relationship, Jeonghan was in heaven.

He wanted to fantasize, to dream, to believe that this change was due to the fact that now that he's going away, she finally realized that she loves him, that she's always loved him and that they should be together, but part of him just can’t get over the possibility that she might have just gotten extra comfortable now that she realized he's going soon, and decided to give him all the attention in the world because she’ll miss his friend.

Things were not going according to plan and it made him nervous, restless... What was the plan? To confess as soon as he was discharged from military service, his group would be on a semi-hiatus for at least two more years after his return due to the younger ones serving, it was the perfect time to develop their relationship, he was sure they would get married early too, after all, for how long do you date after being extremely close for 4 whole years? He knows his princess like the back of his hand and she has him around her little finger, she knows everything, his whole life, all of his habits, allergies, fears and almost all his greatest desires. 

 — Stop thinking about other things while I'm here —  His girl's voice as she enters the room takes Jeonghan out of his train of thoughts, staring at her until she reaches the bed and crawls over to him to go cuddle again. 

— Am I only allowed to think about you? —  he asks, arching one of his eyebrows as soon as he has her in his arms, lying on top of him.  — When you're at my house, yes. —  She replies grumpily and Jeonghan laughs when he feels his torso being squeezed closer to her, draping one arm over his baby’s back, also squeezing her closer before depositing a little kiss on the top of her head, there's nothing this man wouldn't give to have this right here every day.

The conversation comes and goes as usual, they talk about life dramas and gossips from their respective groups of friends, some complaints about annoying and inconvenient people, just as inconvenient as...

— And that little guy you were hooking up with? Did you get tired of him already? — Jeonghan asks as if he hasn't spent the last two weeks brooding with jealousy, just the possibility of that idiot having touched his girl makes him want to rip off his own face with his bare hands. He’s not possessive at all, clearly.

  She huffs before replying — And that makeup artist you were clinging to? How is she? — the tone of the question tone made Jeonghan roll his eyes, he only had a little affair with that woman, a few kisses for a week and they slept together once, no big deal, and obviously it didn't mean anything to him, just like all his hookups never did. The man's distant behavior towards the people he fucked with was always a reason for a fights between them and most of the time it was the reason for the "breakup" of said hookup status, but why would he try to feel anything for any of his fuck buddies when his true love was just around the corner? He was just paving the way.

  — You know it was nothing, it never is — the man feels her little eyes burning through his face as he avoids meeting her vision, he knows where his answer will take him, he hates this part — And when will it start to be something? You're getting old, you know… —  she says teasing the possibility of her friend dying alone, he knows she's joking, but that's no comfort to how much it hurts not to have the courage to just hold her face and take what he spent the last 4 years wishing for so much, Jeonghan is patient, but people can hold on for only so long before snapping.

— And when are you going to start dating? Deceiving those little boys is not very nice on your part —  he received an indignant look from his friend, getting exactly where he wanted, the part where he takes control of the conversation back. It was no new's article that Jeonghan didn't really like anyone's face, the problems were always repeated in one way or another, "He's too young, he won't know how to treat you right.", "Look at the way he talks, I could bet five hundred dollars that this guy gets grossed out by the idea of eating pussy, he's just a little boy.", "Beautiful, look at the things this guy posts, he doesn't even know how to talk like a normal person and do you think he'll know how to fuck you?".

It wasn't exactly hard to figure out that Jeonghan doesn't approve of the possibility of his dear and beloved friend being a guy the same age as her, they are immature and gangly, they don't know how to do it the same way he does, they don't have the time and money to be able to take care of her like he can.

The silence coming from his petal makes him worried immediately, if that son of a bitch hurt his love’s heart, he doesn't even know what he's capable of doing — What happened, bunny? — he knew she hated the nickname, he called her by it anyway to get her out of her own head, his princess always thought too much, and he, as her perfect match, knew exactly how to bring her back to the real world.

She sighed before shyly admitting — You were right… —  he felt a wave of satisfaction run through his entire body, he loved it when his theories about the girl's hookups ended up being accurate — What was Hannie right about, hm? Tell me. —  he received a slap on his arm and could tell just from her breathing that his pretty little thing was sulking like never before.

  — He didn't even know how to hold a conversation! He didn't talk about anything worthwhile, he didn't have anything to do with life, he was a bore! — she vented, obviously it was something that had been bothering her for a long time, and who wouldn't be bothered when it's impossible to find a nice guy? Nobody had an interesting back and forth, a way of talking that made her all soft, a way of being that was all unique and special, there was no one like that. There was no one like him.

Jeonghan saw life pass before his eyes, the hand that was on the girl's back unconsciously squeezed her waist a little harder, with his eyes still fixed on the ceiling, for a moment he really considered that he was finally going insane, would she ever notice? Was that what they were going to be for the rest of their lives?

Friends who run into each other's arms to receive the affection and love many couples out there can't dream of having for each other while complaining that they can't find the "right person"? Would she ever really find someone who matched her? Someone who isn't him? Someone who doesn't deserve his girl at all, someone who hasn't spent literal years learning all the little details and parts of her life and worked so hard to be the best friend she could ever have, someone who doesn't love her the same way he does, someone who won't know how to make her cum as good as she deserves, someone who… — Jeonghan? — like the devil, that sweet, sweet voice calls to him, and by this point, he's been starving for quite a while.

— I'd make you the happiest woman in the world if you’d let me —  the words lingered in the air for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, he felt his doll's heart start to act as if she had just run a marathon, the strong beats against his chest seemed to mimic the beating of his own heart, which she surely felt too. He didn't even realize when exactly he closed his eyes out of pure fear of having ruined everything, he also didn't dare to open them when he felt her moving around on top of him, when he thought he couldn't stand to stay there any longer without running. 

He felt the sweetest kiss this universe has ever dared create, immediately his hands went to his... friend’s? Face,  kissing her back fervently, Jeonghan could cry if he didn't have so much adrenaline in his body after confession, the position was already perfect, they were grabbing and pulling and rubbing on each other for so long, maybe twenty minutes? Maybe two hours? Four days? It was hard to discern silly things like the time when he finally had his girl exactly where he had always wanted her.

— I don't want you to go, Jeongie... —  she confessed breathlessly, holding onto collar of the baggy shirt the man wore as if he was going to disappear as soon as she let go, those shiny little eyes were capable of making him fight 9 wars, weed 5 batches, discover the cure for 13 diseases, achieve anything that could possibly make her stay with him forever.

— I know, I know, my love —  he laid her on the bed with all of the care in the world, only to then, like an addict, go back to enjoying his girl's delicious mouth while he tested the territory by caressing the soft skin of her waist and belly under her pajama top — Do you love Hannie? Do you not want him to leave? — Yoon Jeonghan was worse than any whore, he wants to hear that he wasn't the only one who’s obsessed, that he's not the only one who spent the last 4 years losing nights of sleep and wasting who knows how much bath water while thinking about his best friend.

He feels his princess's warm little hands begin to explore his torso, scratching his chest and waist, sinking her sharp nails into the skin of his shoulders and the sides of his abdomen so, so deliciously, if he was a little less patient he would have already given up doing things slowly — Wait for it, you'll how learn to be patient, bunny.  — Jeonghan commanded firmly when he felt his pants being pulled down little by little. His girl would be lying if she said she wasn't dying to give in, the bulge in his pants was more than enough to scare her off, but she knew her Hannie would never hurt her — You'll wait for me to fuck you when you’re ready to take it, without complaining, gonna be good to me. 

The prep was long, this man didn't rest until he made his little doll cum in his mouth, then with his long and precise fingers, then with the both, he paused between the three of them so he wouldn’t overwhelm his sweet girl, he did everything to make her as open up as much possible but it would still take time to be able to fuck hard when he entered her little heaven, he was at peace with it, in fact, he was already in paradise just by eating her out. 

The one who wasn't at peace was her, this asshole was too hot for his own good, if she had the strength she would have already ripped off this motherfucker's underwear with her own teeth, unfortunately no one tells you how hard it is to find the strength to be angry with someone after they just gave you the three best orgasms of your life.

  — You look so much happier, baby, just needed someone to treat you the way you like —  his lips and chin glittered with her honey, if they weren't so close, she would probably be ashamed to have gotten so wet, but he deserved it — It impresses me that you didn't suffocate down there, with those black lungs. They must look like two raisins —  she jokes while pulling him by the shirt to get on top of her again, wiping the sweet juice from his chin with her thumb, only to put it directly in her friend's mouth, who happily received the dirty act and sucked her thumb clean.

— I won't even tell you what I'm going to leave looking like a raisin if you don't drop the attitude — he joked right back before kissing her, drunk in love. That was it, everything he ever wanted, just him and his woman locked in the bedroom, smiling like two idiots while making each other feel good, this could last forever, but now he was the one who couldn't wait any longer, all it took was her looking up to him though her eyelashes, giving him the puppy eyes he fell in love with all those years ago, it was all it took for him decided he couldn't take it anymore — Take it off, I'm tired — he says while letting his hands fall to the sides as he knelt on the bed, in front of her, looking down to his pants basically saying "if you want it, then come and get it", this scoundrel is very lucky to have such a beautiful face, otherwise he would have been punched already. 

When the little game and fights were finally over and the time finally came, he entered very slowly, truly enjoying every second of his precious time and honestly, as much as it killed him to see his little princess in pain... Jesus Christ, that expression with her eyebrows tensed up and half-lidded eyes while her red mouth moans his name just so sweetly is a sight dangerous enough to kill anyone. The scene left him all vulnerable, his knees risked failing, his fingers lost strength, and in the end, Jeonghan was a weakling for his girl.

  Her little sounds were all he needed to start moving, extremely slowly, he needed to train her tight little hole to be fucked by a real man — Those little boys really did you wrong, hm? Doesn't feel like you’ve ever been fucked at all — he made a point of speaking as he watched the long drag of his cock into and out of his little angel, hypnotized.

— Shut up, Jeonghan — she said angrily, it was embarrassing to remember that she had been with other people when she could have spent all of this time getting eaten out this good instead. He replied  — “Jeonghan"? Where's Jeongie, Hannie? Do you want me to stop fucking you so you can tell me about this "Jeonghan" guy? — his suggestion was answered with a loud sound of dissatisfaction, and with the little strength she had below her torso, she hugged his waist with her legs to keep him inside. 

  Watching her desperation filled him with all kinds of feelings, just thinking about how good he could fuck her when his princess was used to his size, he could start drooling right there. He sneaks his face into her neck to start another attack, leaving purple and red marks all over his flower’s shoulder, the easing of his thick cock inside her was too good to be true, he couldn't keep his mouth shut — Mine, mine, mine. — he whispered and grunted at her ear lobe. 

Maybe that was just part of having sex with someone you know so well, but he even knew what the attempts of words she moaned meant, he knew she was fighting with him for deciding all on his own that she belonged to him, he knew his stubborn girl too well to not notice — Try disagreeing, go on — he tells her all whiny, imitating the tone of the moans of his now; girlfriend, according to his head — Tell me that you're not mine, that we belong to other people, that this pretty little pussy wasn't made just for me, go on, tell me — clearly the words affected her a lot, if her watery eyes tightening until they closed and her little hole threatening to expel him from being so tight were anything to be go by. He held her jaw tightly, forcing her to look at him. — If you're going to lie to me, lie to my fucking face.

She was going insane, he was doing it so, so well, but he was so slow… Even though a little bit pain was still present, fuck it! She was barely holding on from not trembling with desire, she wanted more, she wanted him — Stop treating me like I'm made out of glass, Jeongie! — she tried to sound bossy but the neediness refused to leave the girl’s voice, Jeonghan could have melted right there.

— And you’re not? What’s my doll made out of, then? — he grabbed one of his girl’s delicious thighs firmly,  leaving a hard slap that would definitely leave a mark, it burned like hell and the bastard didn't help at all, he just held the abused meat again  — What’s this, princess? Did it hurt? Are you gonna to cry?  — the condescension seemed to overflow from his mouth just like his girl's juices overflowed from her puffy hole and stained the fluffy bed sheet with each deep thrust, which now, very slowly as to not hurt her, were taking on a faster rhythm that made her head spin. 

Having thoughts that made sense was too much to ask of the poor thing who was getting the biggest cock beating of her life, she barely heard a word that came out of her beloved's mouth, she just stared at his lips, which used to be thin but were now full and red from the intensity of their love, she just wanted to kiss him again, she needed to be a good girl to kiss him again, did he say something? He said it, didn’t he? A... A question... What was it? "What’s this?" — It’s yours, Jeongie — she replied after using all her mental strength available at that moment, which wasn't much.

Jeonghan couldn't help but smile about how stupid he made his bunny — Mhm, it’s just mine, baby — he held her sweaty little face with gentleness that was completely alien if compared to the harshness of which his hips kissed hers. It was so deep, she felt so full, she never wanted it to end, it was too good, she wanted to cry with the fact that she couldn't hold it for much longer. 

— Do you not want me to stop after you finish, princess? —  he asked just so softly, finding it the most precious scene in the world when his flower frantically shook her head, going "No, no, no!", his cutest little thing — Don’t worry, doll, I’ll only stop when you’re dripping with cum.   

[novantinuum]

Steven's Breakdown Was Inevitable From the Very Beginning

I feel like the thing that fucks me up the most about Steven Q. Universe and how well conceived he is as a character is that the fundamental building blocks of why he reached his breaking point in SU: Future were laid out as clear as day in the span of legit only the first four episodes of the original show. The writing was literally always on the wall that future him would struggle with matters of self worth and identity in relationship to the others around him.

Let's take a look:

Gem Glow

"Awesome! What are these things?"

Foundational Trauma #1: Steven's home is always either under threat or actively being wrecked by antagonistic forces/beings, and he constantly copes with this by pushing down his fear in favor of a curiosity and silver linings based mindset.

Look at his initial shock when he opens the door and gets tackled by one of these things, and then his response when one of them spits acid:

The kid's freaked the hell out about all this, and while I do think there's a part of Steven that genuinely IS curious about what these lil critters are, I think he's subconsciously using that curiosity as a way to distract himself from his own fears and anxieties. This is Steven actively learning how to ignore the deeper problems in favor of emoting a facade to the others in his life that he can totally handle himself in scary situations like these.

The underlying reason why is incredibly apparent, when you look at the example from the next episode-

Laser Light Canon

"I don't know what a magic lady like her ever saw in a plain old dope like me..."

Genuinely- from the bottom of my heart- I think the above quote from Greg is a moment where his own insecurities around the Gems actually rubbed off on Steven.

At this point in time, Steven may be living with the Gems... but he hasn't started to harness any of his powers at all, so in his own head he might as well be the same as his dad- another human, just one who happens to have a gem! But the way Greg talks about himself... given Steven was living with him in the van for years before moving in to the beach house, he had to have heard negative self-talk from his dad like this before.

And then there's the rest of the Crystal Gems... always speaking of Rose with such reverence as if she were an all-powerful goddess... and Steven can't help but look back at himself, and his gem that won't work... the gem that the others still identify as Rose's...

"Your gem-! You have Rose's gem!"

And maybe he starts to wonder if- without any working powers- he's just a plain ol' dope like his Dad, too.

"Please work... Unlock! Activate! Go! Please-!! Everyone's counting on you, you can't just be useless!"

Foundational Trauma #2: Steven has Rose's gem, and as such, is constantly living under the silent expectation to live up to a standard that he simply cannot ever hope to achieve, because he doesn't KNOW her and he never will.

I want to highlight one of Steven's expressions while his dad is talking about Rose- look at that sad look. My god, I just wanna hug him. This is the expression of a child who has already come to terms with the fact that his only relationship with his mom is through the rose tinted stories that other people tell him about her.

Cheeseburger Backpack

So. Steven has learned so far that he needs to push down his feelings and emote a false veneer of cheer and bravery even when he's afraid, because the rest of the people in his life have expectations and hopes for him due to the legacy of his parentage and he can't bear the thought of letting them down. (And in a sad way, at this point "letting them down" literally just means... being an ordinary human boy. I believe Steven at this stage of the show is flat out scared to be human, because to be human is to fail at being a Gem, and no amount of love and sacrifice in the name of humanity in the seasons to come could've ever saved him from the fundamental fact that the wedge between him and this whole half of his being was already drawn long before the events of season 1 even started. But I digress.)

Let's see where we go from there. Let's check out Steven's first "mission." Or as Pearl puts it about 35 episodes later, his first "test."

"Yeah... they can't all be winners."

This episode is tinted with a little bit of tragedy for me on rewatch, because I genuinely do think the Gems handled the situation as well as they could've. They were supportive of Steven's successful ploys, and (for the most part) responded with grace when he majorly blundered and left the Goddess Statue at home. The main problem, however, is that Steven has already developed a bit of a complex about impressing the three of them-

Foundational Trauma #3: Even when they claim otherwise, Steven has convinced himself that affection from the Gems is transactional, and that when he messes up he's not truly a part of the Crystal Gems.

Of course we the audience know this isn't true- I mean, hell, Amethyst even said as much in episode one after her slip-up ("and you're fun to have around, even if your gem IS useless!")... that the Crystal Gems wouldn't be the same without him. But Steven... the poor kid is a complicated little guy living a complicated life, and whether they intended it or not, the language used they've used around him thus far has not backed up their attempts at fully embracing him, human parentage and all.

Thus, Steven just spends the entire episode wracked with anxiety trying to find creative non-power using ways to make the mission easier so he can convince them he's useful to have around.

Look how nervous he gets even when all three of them are visibly and vocally supportive of his presence here:

This is the face of a boy who feels like he's under constant judgement and scrutiny from those around him.

Blessedly, viewing this episode in isolation, he experiences a brief moment of mental respite where he finally accepts the Gems' encouragement and agrees that his ideas 'can't all be winners,' but this lesson does not stick for him moving forward. A shame, really.

Together Breakfast

"What's the matter, Steven?" "I wanted us all to have breakfast together, so I made Together Breakfast! But everyone keeps leaving..." "Oh, that's nice..."

Taken in context with what we've learned already in the last three episodes, Steven's desperation to spend quality time with the Gems here and his sadness that they keep leaving him alone doesn't just exist within a vacuum. He spends the whole morning watching them shuffle in and out of the temple, or come back from missions he wasn't invited on, and with the disastrous result of the LAST mission he went on probably fresh in his mind it's not hard to understand why this bothers him.

Foundational Trauma #4: Steven internalizes that the price of "not being useful" is that the Gems actively ignore him, meaning that the only way to guarantee their attention is to work as hard as he can to become a stronger member of the team.

I know this screenshot is usually used as a lighthearted meme, but I wanted to include it because I think it's a good example of how Steven's intense desire to impress permeates every facet of his personality at times. Just LOOK at how desperate he is to make Garnet laugh at his joke, to be the one that's at very least "fun to have around," as Amethyst put it in episode one.

The Gems do eventually drop what they're doing to spend time with Steven by the conclusion of this episode, but this only comes after Steven shows his growing strength and "proves" himself by saving their butts from the breakfast monster.

If he successfully gained their attention in literally any other way he might've come away from this episode with a different lesson, but no. Instead, his fears were proven true- the Gems value strength and utility, and if he's not exhibiting that, then what use is he to them?

These fears of his can be seen weaving throughout the foundational fabric of the entire show, but I think Steven lays out what he sees as his "stakes" in the clearest way possible in the episode 'An Indirect Kiss.'

"But- if I don't have powers, then I can't hang out with Amethyst, or Garnet, o-or Pearl, and- I-I can't go on missions!"

And these same insecurities even rear their ugly head as late as the movie.

"I can't believe this... for the first time in years, everyone's in danger, everybody needs me, and- I'm useless!"

Powers = Utility = Worth = Other's love, for Steven. Everything is transactional to the end, which is a hilarious double standard he's set for himself when he's made his reputation as the kid who always listens and encourages and gives others a chance to change, no matter their messy history with him.

__

So let's recap and restate those foundational traumas from Steven's perspective.

One: The only way to cope when your life is constantly under threat is to bury the damage and pretend to be fine.

Two: Everyone expects you to live up to the standards of someone you're not.

Three: The Gems only love you when you're of use to them.

Four: If you ever stop being useful, the Gems won't want anything more to do with you.

In sum, Steven's habit of burying his feelings for the benefit of others was there from the very beginning, not just since 'The Test.'

Those unreachable standards he felt so daunted and intimidated by all his life were the ones set by Rose, at first... but over the course of the series, the dynamic of this shifted. As Rose's influence fell into the background, Steven's rose into the front. And so it's with great irony that- by the time of Steven Universe: Future, the expectations this exhausted, worn down teenager is fighting to once again achieve are the ones HE set for himself. Many of young Steven's selfless actions during the war are quite admirable when analyzed in isolation, but almost none of them are sustainable. He set himself on fire just to save the world, but teen Steven is genuinely unable to see this for what it is yet- as a tragic sacrifice of his own childhood. You can't burn your own ends for others forever, not at all. His breakdown was simply inevitable.

When it comes to the interconnected beliefs three and four, these are exactly why the ultimate confrontation at the end of I Am My Monster HAD to be one fueled by selfless love. Steven is at his absolute lowest at this point- he's everything he fears he's become, trapped in a form that's nearly incapable of reason. He's big and angry and spiky because that's a part of the facade- because a part of him WANTS to scare the Gems away, wants to be left alone forever, believing this the fate he deserves as price for his misdeeds.

In this form, by his own definitions he is NOT useful to the Crystal Gems at all.

But they don't care.

Because it never WAS about Steven's 'usefulness' to them, they simply love him for being Steven.

With this in mind, the conclusion of Steven Universe: Future wasn't just a salve to teen Steven's immediate struggles, it was a salve to the foundational insecurities that have been plaguing him his entire life.

And hopefully... from this point on... his family's shows of love and encouragement will be enough to finally convince Steven that he's more than worth their time...

No matter what path the future leads him on, and no matter what form he takes.

[dunmesh]

can't stop thinking about dungeon meshi btw. how it comes down to being able to appreciate the hard and painful times because of the moments of happiness you experienced along the way.

it's about falin being able to forgive and look beyond the harsh way things were done- be it their father announcing he will send her away from the village or laios leaving her behind- partly due to her personality, and how she used to prioritize her loved ones' needs and emotions over her own, but also because of the positive impact that road eventually had on her. she knows her family was trying to protect her but what truly made it impossible to regret the path she had to take were the precious memories she made later on- it was learning magic and seeing new places and becoming friends with marcille and of course she couldn't hate it all, she was happy. it's about laios feeling so utterly miserable because on his end, it seemed like nothing good or enjoyable happened to him after leaving home, aside from the letters written by falin. but how long can a child be satisfied with another's happiness which he never got to experience himself?

so it really is beautiful that the series started off with him realizing that this journey allowed him to finally feel that happiness he was yearning for-

-and ended with everyone else realizing it too. when you first read chapter 11 it's just a funny gag about people not understanding laios, but it genuinely was too early for them to share his sentiment. they needed to come to terms with it on their own, with chilchuck opening up to them and senshi resolving the hovering mystery of his past and izutsumi freeing herself and joining their party and marcille facing her greatest fear. the winged lion was taking advantage of the loneliness and anger and pain lingering in laios's heart, but even it couldn't deny this. how, despite everything, he couldn't be satiated and his own happiness couldn't be complete without his friends' happiness too. how it was always about everyone enjoying a meal together.

and then there's marcille, who refused to admit it until the very end. it's in the way she had such a hard time fully accepting eating monsters despite how tasty she found them, not just due to how weird they were but also because she tried rejecting and burying her own pleasure and joy during this entire journey. from the very beginning, she was only willing to endure the pain and suffering.

as if she couldn't accept feeling an ounce of comfort, satisfaction, let alone happiness while falin was suffering on her own. and it might've been laios's reaction as well if all of this had happend a decade ago- i mean, that's exactly what he did back then. blaming himself for leaving her behind, being tormented by her loneliness and absence while falin was actually slowly moving towards a brighter future. it was him that was stuck, not her. but he kept focusing on her pain to ignore how deep the hole in his own heart had become, consumed by guilt to ignore his own agony, or to make sense of it- because maybe he did deserve it after all he had done.

and for that reason marcille was so terrified of admitting there was warmth in what she considered the depths of hell. because it would mean accepting falin going ahead of her and leaving her behind, accepting the inevitable she was trying so hard to deny and the end of her dream.

but it was learning there's joy even in her worst nightmare that allowed her to finally embrace those moments of pleasure that made her life worth living, however short they were. she realized that her pursuit would take away the things that truly mattered to her, that if she had succumbed to her fear of loss she would've been the one hurting her loved ones, just as happened to thistle. laios asking her to use ancient magic for falin's resurrection and then encouraging her to not give up on her desires during the nightmare chapter was a direct parallel to delgal being the one to push thistle down the road of destruction, while both marcille and thistle were trying to protect the people most important to their friends.

but in marcille's case, laios was able to understand her at the end, pulling her back just before she descended to complete ruin. it's truly fascinating how the story is not only about laios being understood but also getting to understand others properly, deeply- it's about mutual understanding, the balance between two people he never managed to maintain before. and i think it's only after seeing thistle's tragedy that he was able to fully realize what might become of marcille down the line. so while delgal put the weight of the world on thistle's shoulders, laios was the one to tell marcille she doesn't have to do that. because even if falin's resurrection hadn't succeeded, they both already know- there's happiness even in the dungeon's pit. and it's by preparing a hearty meal made of her loved one's remains that marcille was able to truly accept it- thus allowing herself to enjoy it to the fullest, embracing the cycle of life, no matter how weird or painful or grotesque it is.

[two-white-butterflies]

the butterfly and the tree | thranduil

Description: Theradis has always been fascinated with the rivers and rocks, cursed with the burden of foresight. This is the story of Thranduil's doomed queen.

Warning: Angst. Slight OC x Annatar if u catch my drift.

Word Count: <5k

A/N: A longer version of my fic 'Cassandra' and 'How Long' this fails the reverse bechdel test. canon diveregent ik but we do it for the plot.

There were things in the darkness that remained unseen. A darkness has been plaguing Theradis’s dreams, it watched her; watched the events unfold, but remained silent. When she was younger, the dreams were tame – one of her brothers breaking their mother’s favorite vase or her sister scraping her knees while running down the halls. 

As she grew accustomed to the darkness, the dreams turned grim. 

It played in her head repeatedly: Greenwood marred by darkness, and the elves fleeing to Valinor. It left her haunted. 

“My child,” her father places a hand on her shoulder, he knew the burden of foresight too well. “Darling,” he whispered again, seeing tears gather in the corners of her eyes.

Despite his attempts in reviving her from the drown, her trance does not break. Theradis remains inside of her dreams. Father’s eyebrows merged together, able to see both fear and sadness in her features. Theradis – Luthien incarnate, and in tears. “Does she wake?” Elladan breaks the silence, both father and son share a knowing glance. 

This has been a common occurrence in the household. When the moon is at its peak, and the members of House Elrond are in deep sleep – Theradis wakes, and dreams of the future. “Return to your room, my son. There are things that should be beyond your concern,” Elrond forces a smile on his face, but it does not reach his eyes. 

A sigh escapes the younger twin’s mouth. 

Theradis will always be his concern. His older sister, who had a gentle disposition and a kind smile. He takes a step forward, sitting beside the plump pillows that surrounded Theradis' body. The mattress shifts to accommodate their shared weight. “When the rain comes we’ll prepare barrels, but do not forsake the sun.” He pleaded, reaching for her clenched fists. 

He unclenches them gently. It hurt him to see her like this, haunted by the inevitable, a future that she has no control in. 

Almost instantly, her eyes open. 

Father tries to calm her from the drown, but it is clear in her features that she is haunted. “Theradis,” Elrond repeats her elvish name. She takes ragged breaths,  playing with the hems of her nightgown. She tries to speak but neither a croak or a whisper comes out of her mouth. The darkness was preventing her from speaking – preventing her from unfolding the future. 

She claws at her forearm, tears flowing out of her eyes. 

“Naneth,” she forces herself to whisper. 

Soon after the prophecy, Lord Elrond called for all of his soldiers to follow the path that Lady Celebrian traveled on. Elladan and Elrohir tried to ask her questions, but the words refused to escape her mouth. 

She tried to speak, tried to open her mouth – but no sound wanted to escape. She was a prisoner in her own mind – aware of what was to come, yet unable to do anything about it. Everywhere she went, every warning that she was able to muster out, it was useless, for she already found herself there. 

Lady Galadriel entered her chambers, a light aura following after her. “Theradis,” Galadriel’s voice echoes throughout the closed chambers. “- you must fight against the darkness, you must tell us where your naneth is.” She added, her eyes focused on her granddaughter. 

Theradis knew exactly where Celebrian was, but she could not say. 

“I,” the younger elleth opened her mouth to speak, but all breath exited her lungs. Eru Illuvatar, why give me the strength to see the future, if you will not let me save the one that I love the most? “I cannot begin to imagine the sadness that you feel, there is a reason that the Valar make you unable to say, but as your grandmother – I beg of you.” Galadriel breathes. 

Galadriel cannot stomach the thought of her daughter sitting inside of a damp cell, starving and stolen the right to bask in the warmth of the sun. All her sufferings, her tryst with Halbrand, the loss of her family – it will all be for nothing if her daughter is unsafe. 

“I want nothing more than to tell you, but every time I do – all breath is robbed of my lungs.” Theradis cried, her hands on her chest. She grabs her grandmother’s forearm. “Please make it stop.” She begged, seeing the visions flash through her head in uncontrollable flashing lights of torture. 

Galadriel silences her with an embrace. 

A month later, Elladan and Elrohir arrived in Rivendell – both carrying the shell of their mother. All remnants of self control evades Theradis’s body, she traps herself inside of her room – not allowing anyone to enter. One night, Lord Celeborn is able to slip through – due to her forgetting to lock the door. 

“It is not your fault,” he says, the only thing that she wanted to hear. “Celebrian will heal, and all will be fixed.” He adds, but they both know that it isn’t the truth. She burrows deeper into the warm floral sheets. “There are scars that cannot be healed here,” her voice is partly muffled by the sheets. 

Celeborn does not reply. 

She removes the sheets that cover her head, meeting the eyes of her grandfather. She sees the same fear and sadness behind his eyes, his pain is unfathomable. What does it feel to lose a child? Unbearable torture, is the only appropriate reply. To raise someone for thousands of years, only for an unworthy hand to pry them away from your hands, is disrespect. 

The following day, mother left for the Grey Havens. She didn’t leave any letters, but Lady Galadriel says that she visited the children’s chambers in the middle of the night – pressing a kiss to their foreheads, and she left. Father escorted her to the shores, and it will be a long time until any of them are able to follow. 

“You must eat.” Lady Galadriel encourages, her voice filled with tenderness. Theradis’s eyebrows merged together, memories of her mother’s imprisonment – and her appetite was ruined for years to come. “I’d rather not,” Theradis responds sharply. 

It would be easier if these dreams left her line of thought, but it is impossible. These dreams have been plaguing her sleep, until the very thought of sleeping made her want to vomit. “You must learn,” Celeborn says – his tone mirroring her sharpness. The others were treating Theradis like a babe, customizing every movement so as to not cause her sadness, but Theradis needed to learn. She needed to tolerate her dreams, it is the only way. 

“You don’t understand, adadar.” She whispers, keeping her eyes on the tablecloth. Every child thinks of their parents as indestructible, to see Celebrian in that manner – it broke her. “In any society there must be tolerance, you must tolerate your dreams, only then will you survive.” Celeborn’s voice turns rigid, a reminder of his past. 

His granddaughter needed to learn how to tolerate madness, it is what he has been doing all of these years. Shaking hands with the Noldor, shaking hands with the descendants of Feanor – even when they are the cause of his family’s demise.

“I wish I could tell you that it will get better, but it will not. Life is filled with tragedies, Theradis. Luckily, we are elves and have the opportunity to go to the Grey Havens. Your mother is healed, there is no sorrow in her. When will you heal, Theradis? Will we lose you to the Grey Havens too?” He inquired. 

Theradis begins to understand. 

“I’m sorry for refusing to eat dinner, adadar.” Theradis apologizes. “I blame myself for naneth’s departure, I should have fought against the darkness. I've been victim of it far too long, falling into the illusion of Annatar, and now the dreams.” She whispers, her voice always sounded like a whisper – like a little mouse suddenly gaining the ability to speak. “You are strong, but there are things that you are yet to learn.” Celeborn says in a gentler tone now. 

She takes a deep breath. 

“I often ask Illuvatar why he gave me this gift, I am not the strongest of my siblings – nor am I anything like my father.” She admits, always insecure about her capabilities. “You remind me of Luthien, my child.” Celeborn remembers. 

His cousin from so long ago. 

“Luthien was able to bring the Dark Lord to his knees,” he chuckles at the memory. “Then I am nothing like her then, for I am unable to even open my mouth and reveal the location of naneth.” She breathes, not seeking approval but stating the obvious. “You look like her in some lights, she was exactly like you when we were elflings. Her nose was up in some book, refusing to participate in her father’s council until her thousandth name-day, where she finally was interested in the workings of King Thingol’s court. She would have made a wonderful Queen, but alas – she is for Beren.” Celeborn smiles bitterly. 

Doomed and blessed Luthien. 

“This meekness and gentleness of yours is not a bad trait. Do not blame yourself. I doubt that even if you had the ability to tell, that it would change anything in the future.” He comforts. He’d do anything to lift the boulder of foresight from his granddaughter. 

“What a troubled life I must lead, then.” Her eyebrows relaxed. 

“Come with us to Lothlorien, your grandmother will cast an enchantment – you won’t be able to remember those wicked dreams.” He suggested. 

Lord Celeborn was right! 

Lothlorien filled her with tranquility, a feeling of safety that she had previously lost. It felt like a warm blanket, a mother’s embrace, protecting her from the fall. “Thank you for letting me stay here, nananeth.” Theradis smiles, feeling warmth enter her body. “Lothlorien is your home too,” Lady Galadriel answers. 

Happiness was beginning to return, starting from her stomach – to her shoulders – to her cheeks, the warmth invading her cold. “- you must rest, it has been a long journey.” Galadriel covers the younger elleth’s body with a blanket, mirroring their routine from when she was an elfling. “The dreams?” Theradis inquires, as it has been nagging her for a while now. 

“They will not bother you,” Galadriel asserts, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight,” Theradis whispered – closing her eyes and falling into deep sleep before her grandmother could reply. 

“Look at them, they are precious.” Her husband muses. 

Erynlas and Legolas, the twins. 

Erynlas inherited her mother’s raven-black hair, and her striking resemblance to Luthien. Legolas, however, inherited his father’s looks – although his mother’s gentle disposition. “A perfect mixture of us,” Theradis smiles, feeling her husband press a kiss to her neck, inhaling her scent of roses. “They are the better versions of us, meleth.” Thranduil breathes. 

As if she is aware that this is a dream, Theradis turns around – meeting his amber hues. He has a perfect face, and both masculine and feminine features. He is beautiful. He looks like everything that she has ever desired, and in her heart – she could feel love. A love that does ask, or get jealous – but exists because it can, because it is second nature. 

“Theradis,” he whispers her name like it is his breath. “- is all well?” he inquires, and she reaches for his cheeks - cupping it with her cold palms. “Yes.” she answers with a smile. 

What more could she ask for? 

A few decades later, her dream came true – and a man by the name of Thranduil arrived in Lothlorien, for reasons that she does know. All that she could remember was that she loves him, and has been waiting for him for all her life. “You are fascinated with nature?” Thranduil inquires, seeing her sitting on the riverbank – inspecting rocks and watching the river bend. 

“I have always been,” she replied, patting the empty space beside her, inviting him to sit. Thranduil wonders if this is what Beren felt when meeting Luthien, entranced by Theradis’ blue gown, her hair moving to the power of the wind. More akin to Yavanna than elf or men. “- I’ve always dreamed of visiting Greenwood. It must feel good to live in a place where nature is unmarred by war,” she ponders placing the rock down and reaching for a caterpillar. 

“It is indescribable, my lady.” He finds that he cannot take his eyes off her. “My grandfather visited once and he says that it reminds him of the first age, where everything was good, I assume.” She made an assumption, causing a chuckle. 

Her eyebrows merged together, “Have I done something?” she asks and he shakes his head. “I would prefer to live in this age instead of the First,” he admits. His naneth was still alive then, but the gruesome torture – the fall of kingdoms. It was too much to bear, and he would rather live in solitude in Greenwood than face that again. 

“The Valar were in this world, you could feel their fea in every rock and tree, but there was also carnage. Melkor seeking​​ to tear our realm asunder. I find peace now, I believe.” He confesses, the first time that he has told anyone about this. 

Behind Theradis’ eyes, he could see kindness – she was the type of elleth who had no meanness, or jealousy. Theradis is good, and Thranduil has spent a lot of time with people to understand their nature. “I feel happy for you…?” she pauses waiting for him to reveal his name, although she already knows. “Thranduil,” he smiles, shaking her hand. 

“I am Theradis, daughter of Elrond.” She introduces herself. 

He takes a look at the caterpillar that she is holding, “She will turn into a butterfly soon. A big blue butterfly.” He informs. “Really?” She asks, happiness flooding her features. “Yes, when they are at that size, it will only take another day for them to make cocoons.” He explains, moving a bit closer until he could see the caterpillar closely. 

“If I could be any other creature, I would be a butterfly.” She admits. 

“They only live for a day,” Thranduil frowns. 

“What a glorious day to be alive.” She breathes. 

She tilts her head, meeting his eyes. “What animal would you be, Thranduil?” She questions her first time uttering his name yet it felt normal. “I would not be an animal. I would be a tree, watching as everything grows – a wise mind that shall live forever.” He answers. 

“Oh, how different we are.” She observes. Theradis wanted to live for one glorious day, while Thranduil wanted to live forever – unchanged, unmarred, but wise. “That is not such a bad thing, my lady.” He responds, and thus begins their friendship. 

Theradis looked lovely in all the lights, each time that he glances at her, he finds himself taken aback by her beauty. “The trades between our kingdoms will be for the betterment of both realms,” Lady Galadriel explains – oblivious to the Prince unable to pay attention to her words. For he was staring at the lovely Theradis. “ – I hope that we find a middle ground, my prince. Lothlorien needs the fruits, and your kingdom needs grains.” Galadriel breathes, only beginning to realize that the person that she was talking to was not paying attention. 

She turns around to look at the object of his attention, and to her surprise, he sees her looking at Theradis. A sigh escapes her mouth. “My prince,” she says much louder. “Lady Galadriel,” the man responds, mouth dripping with respect. “I hope that you convince your father to approve trading between our kingdoms.” Galadriel put it in simpler terms. 

“Yes, my lady. I will make sure of it,” he promises. 

Thranduil places a hat on Theradis’ head. 

“Where did you find this?” She takes the hat off her head, holding it with the tips of her fingers – lest it come from somewhere disgusting. “On the ground,” he responds while nestling on the bottom of the tree branch beside her. “On the ground?” She raises an eyebrow. 

Thranduil was a peculiar fellow, he seemed to reach levels of crazy that she herself is unable to reach. “It’s yours now,” he said and a chuckle escaped her mouth. “What if the owner accuses me of stealing this hat?” She queries, placing the hat on the ground. “I asked around and no one claimed it. Celeborn says that I should keep it, but it is unkingly to wear a hat.” Thranduil plays with the tips of Theradis’ hair. “- but you are not a king, and this hat is wet.” She rolls her eyes. 

“It came from me! You are disgusted with me.” He accused. 

“Yes, I’ve seen you eat something that fell on the ground.” She points out. 

“Not on the ground, on the table and it was an orange. An orange that still had a peel on.” He argues with a smile. “Peel or without a peel, I’m not wearing that hat.” She crosses her arms in a huff. “I’ll give it to someone else more thankful,” he taunts. 

“I don’t care.” 

“You don’t care?” 

“Not a single bit.” 

“Pfft,” 

“Pfft.” 

“Fine,” he rolls his eyes. 

“Fine,” she teases. 

“I’ve not heard the sound of a harp for a long time,” Theradis admits, sitting on the ground beside Thranduil. He was playing with his harp, allowing the soft music to fill the garden with tranquility. “Really? It must be horrible living in silence,” He teases. 

He freezes only when he sees that look in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes and she forces a smile on her face. “My mother liked playing instruments. I assume that is where my aversion comes from.” She tells, and he remembers the story of Celebrian’s abduction. Theradis is her daughter, and the pain of losing a mother – is a pain that he knows well. “I cannot remember her, I’ve forced myself to forget.” She continues. 

It was a horrible thing indeed, to forsake the good memories just to forget the bad ones. “I lost my mother to the war, and until now I cannot bear to look at her portraits.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “- there will be a day where we long for our mother’s warmths,” She adds. 

“And we will receive it in due time.” Thranduil’s hand rests on the arch of his harp. “Would you like to learn how to play the harp?” he suggests, and she answers with a nod.

They were wedded a few years later, in the light of Greenwood with their families as a witness. Their marriage was special – for now the branches of Elrond and Oropher were united. A marriage of love – love that allowed them to just be. 

“You know how singers sing other singer’s songs?” Theradis says, and he smiles. “Sounds like a tongue twister,” he mumbles – burrowing deeper into her embrace. “Yep, but what if writers had the chance to write other writer’s books but in their own words.” She states, always able to bring the most unique level of thoughts. 

“Like, translators?” He grins, and she rolls her eyes. 

“I hate you,” she groans. 

He places a hand on her stomach, “Yes, you hate me so much that you have allowed your stomach to swell with a child.” He teases, their love not mellowing to the tune of time. “Not like translators, but remember that poem that Glorfindel wrote with a really good idea.” She reminds and he nods. “The Lament of Winter?” He squints, barely remembering the poem. “Yeah, he made really good points but the words that he used were … juvenile?” She struggles to find the right term to describe it. 

Yes, Glorfindel has spent a substantial amount of time complaining about that poem. “He says that if anyone else were to write that poem, they would deliver the message better.” She recites his words verbatim, and Thranduil agrees. “What are we talking about?” He chuckles, walking between a thin line of sleep and consciousness. 

She giggles, “I don’t know – random thoughts?” 

“Speaking of random thoughts, you were mumbling something in your sleep last night.” Thranduil remembers, and her eyebrows merged together, having long forfeited the ability to remember her dreams. “Is there something that requires my attention? Are those dreams bothering you again?” He asks, his voice gentle and filled with love. 

“Speaking of random thoughts, you were mumbling something in your sleep last night.” Thranduil remembers, and her eyebrows merged together, having long forfeited the ability to remember her dreams. “Is there something that requires my attention? Are those dreams bothering you again?” He asks, his voice gentle and filled with love. 

“I have long forfeited my ability of foresight, meleth. I cannot remember any dream.” She confirms, and his face momentarily relaxes. “But you’ve earned my curiosity, what was it that I was talking about?” She asks, he pulls her body closer – allowing his warm body to bring fire to her cold one. “You said that we’d have twins, a boy and a girl.” He informs. 

“What a wonderful blessing it would be then,” she smiles, and he presses a kiss to her forehead. “Indeed,” he agreed. 

And her dreams were right, again. 

Theradis gave birth to twins: Erynlas and Legolas. 

In her dreams, she saw their faces clearly – Erynlas’ inheriting her features and Legolas inheriting his father’s. For a moment, everything was well. There was nothing in this world that could stop their golden family, there was nothing in this world unreachable to them as scions of both Lady Theradis and Prince Thranduil. 

“She looks exactly like you, my child.” Lord Elrond smiles, seeing his own eyes stare right back at him – through Erynlas. “It may seem that way but she’s inherited her father’s disposition, it is a good thing that Legolas is calm, always sleeping, else we’d lose our heads trying to keep both of them in tact.” Theradis breathes, watching Erynlas play with her grandfather’s gold-encrusted robes. 

“Remember your brothers?” Elrond reminds, and she answers with a laugh. 

“I’m thankful that my twins are nothing like them, I never understood how you were able to do it.” She remarks, her parents were undoubtedly strong. “Nana,” Theradis cooes, walking towards her mother’s direction, “Yes!” Legolas answers. “Yes yes yes,” Legolas babbled. 

Yes, was Legolas’ first word – something that Thranduil did not appreciate. (Erynlas’ first word was Naneth) but Theradis promises that their third child’s first word would be Ada. Both of her twins were in her arms now, talking to each other in a language that only they could understand. “You were right, Ada. In all of it.” Theradis smiles. 

Life did not end the day that her mother died, nor did it end when her dreams became uncontrollable. Her life began again, with her husband and her twins. 

“You were dreaming last night.” Thranduil wraps his arms around her, filling her body with warmth. “You were mumbling words that I could not fathom, none except the word ‘no.’ I am worried, meleth.” He reports, concern evident in his features. It was clear that her dreams were born from something sinister, and as her husband it was his duty to protect her. 

She tries to remember the dream, but it is no use. 

A familiar tightness returns to her chest, constricting her lungs and preventing her to speak. “What if something were to happen upon us?” She asks a question of fear. She feared for her children, what if something were to happen to them? “I will not allow that,” Thranduil insists. “- I will add more guards. I will ensure that every movement of our family is monitored closely.” He took active actions against the inevitable. 

She reaches for his arms, pulling his body closer until she meets his eyes. “If I have dreamed about it then nothing can prevent it.” She whispers. She has tried to change the future a thousand times, to no avail – for when it is written upon stone, no water can erase its mark. “When it comes between the future and my family, I will exhaust all options to prolong danger.” Her husband promised, and she believes him. Thranduil would move the very mountains, if it meant keeping his family safe. 

That is love.

The dreaded day has come. 

Theradis awakened in the middle of the night, she lifted the covers off her body. She frowns, not seeing her husband inside of the room, so she decides to visit her children’s chambers. A groan escapes her mouth, feeling a horrible headache form at the back of her head. Could this be? She asks herself. 

Is this another one of her dreams? 

She walks through the empty hallway, seeing no guards in their posts. Matter of fact, there wasn’t anyone in the entire wing. “Hello?” Her voice echoes through the halls, but she is greeted with an eerie silence. 

She takes a mammoth stride towards her children’s chambers. A million thoughts ran through her head, they could be hurt – or starving – or crying – or getting bitten by ants. All the worst possible scenarios brushed through her head, and a sigh of relief exited her mouth when she saw them sleeping soundly. 

She presses a kiss to their foreheads. 

A mother’s anxiety, she tells herself. It is normal, she reminds. 

If this was a dream, then it was a pleasant one. 

But she should not have spoken too soon, because a second later a dagger was pressed to her neck. Her eyes trail away from her daughter’s sleeping body, and to the attacker. He had long brown hair that reached his shoulders, blue piercing eyes, and a face filled with scars. 

“Who are you?” She asks, glaring at him with the intensity of a thousand stars. “I have many names,” he answered. “You are a man, you should not be here.” She tries to warn him. A man is no match for Theradis, a seasoned warrior. “You do look like her in some lights,” the man mused – still unwilling to reveal his true identity. 

“What is it that you require?” She places a hand on his dagger, carefully directing it away from her face but in a swift move – the man cuts her cheek, allowing the blood to trickle down her face. “Still as beautiful as the day I left.” The man adds. 

A gasp escapes her mouth. 

“You may leave, Theradis of Lindon. My arrival here is not for you.” The man’s grip on her arm does not soften. This scene has already played before, in her dreams but she cannot remember, no matter how hard she tries. “Your arrival is for nothing, for I would rather die than surrender my children to you, Gorthaur.” She breathes, remembering bits and pieces of her dreams now. 

Gorthaur lifts his hand and suddenly all fades to black.

Annatar was addicted to her presence, not because of love – no. 

Every time he lays his eyes on her, a grand orchestra plays, akin to the orchestra of Illuvatar creating the world. Theradis has so much light inside of her, it reminded him of his home. It tempted him in ways that would lead to the world’s ruin. Is this what Melkor felt when he laid his eyes on Mairon? The deliciousness of innocence, and the temptation to ruin all of it. 

“Walking amidst starlight,” Annatar hums, his eyes not taking a second off hers. 

“Your compliments do nothing to dissuade my grievances,” Theradis taunts, reminding him of the time that he ditched their meetings in favor of meeting with Celebrimbor. “Allow me to make it up to you,” his eyebrows merge together mockingly pleading with her. “Why do you know so much of this world? I’ve always wondered why you are so informed with dealing with matters of nature and geology,” she asked out of the blue. 

Although, it was with reason – as she could not keep up with the other elf’s banter. 

“I am an emissary of the Valar, and I have spent the majority of my life studying the happenings of this world. There is a vast amount of knowledge stored in the back of my head, and I am willing to share it with you, as my scholar.” As my wife. As my servant. 

“The Valar has always kept to themselves. Sometimes, I feel as if they are slowly beginning to take away the magic of this earth, piece by piece. Since the departure of Melian, since the mortality of Luthien – great sorrow has washed upon these shores.” Theradis laments. 

His hands snake down her waist, oblivious to the audience watching them. 

“There is great sadness in this world,” he repeats a phrase previously uttered by his master. A phrase that began his defiance, his rejection of Illuvatar’s music. “I was born to serve the Valar,” he lies – but he does it so that she’d begin to understand his side. 

He twirls her around again, their bodies pressing close to each other. 

“I’ve bared witness to them, watched them create animals and plants – and everything that covers our world. I’ve also watched them create discord, injustice, and pain.” He rambled, staring deep into her eyes – reading her mind like an open book, softening her resolve.

“I’ve thought to myself sometimes, are these the people we worship? Imperfect gods who refuse to blink an eye when entire populations are genocided, when children are pried away from their mother’s hands? I think I would like it better if they never existed, then, I’ll only have myself to blame when something goes wrong.” He chuckles, her eyebrows merge together. 

“We cannot measure their goodness or badness in measurements of elf and men.” Theradis breathes, but she is starting to believe his words. “It would be hard to blame them if we didn’t,” Annatar responds with a deep breath. When Melkor tortured him, corrupted his soul, the Valar did nothing, Eru Illuvatar did nothing. He wonders if they ate, and drank, and fucked while he was in agonizing pain. He wonders if they blame him for the corruption. 

His power wanes. 

Theradis pulls on his collar. 

Pulling his face closer to hers so that he’d be the only one listening in to their conversation. “Are you truly an emissary of the Valar, Annatar? I'm beginning to believe that you are not. ” She interrogates. 

Theradis opens her eyes to a battlefield. She sees the entire field engulfed in flames, but something shines against the darkness. "Erynlas," she whispers. She was holding the ring in her hands.

But even the ring corrupts the kindest of minds.

"You must take it Frodo," Erynlas opens her mouth and the hobbit nods. "Destroy it," she insists raising a hand and using her powers to fend off the darkness, to fend of Sauron's darkness.

She is his doom. One of the reasons of his fall. That is why he is here.

She wakes up minutes after his enchantment, a mother's love breaking even the tightest of spells. "Annatar." She exhales seeing him lift his dagger but she stops him with a hand. He was weaker in this form, easier to fend off. "She is your doom, I have foreseen it." Theradis states.

He pushes her away, this time his dagger on her neck. Mayhaps, he was beginning to realize that nothing could prevent his fall, and thus decided to aim his anger at her. He takes on another form - from human, he turns into a face that she knows well. Annatar.

She's beginning to realize his resemblance to her husband. Did he use that as a means to control her?

"You are not the only one burdened with foresight, vilvarin." He presses it closer to her jugular, until Theradis had to stop breathing - in fear of death. "I would have stopped at nothing until the entire world has bent to the light of its queen, but you have forsaken me. And that creature from your very womb shall be my doom," he yells.

"It will change nothing." she whispers.

It will change nothing.

[illegiblewords]

SOME ILLEGIBLE RAMBLES AND REFLECTIONS: GALE AND WYLL AS FORSAKEN CHILDREN

Gale and Wyll share a rather unique element of abuse that I haven't seen discussed yet. Someone's gotta talk about it, might as well be me lol.

I would argue that both Wyll and Gale are being pressured to destroy themselves at the altar of certainty. Wyll pacted with Mizora in the first place because when the cult of Tiamat threatened Baldur's Gate, he was told that destruction and death were inevitable outcomes unless he agreed. Mizora was exploiting fear, self-doubt, and a double-standard in self-worth. Even in the Forgotten Realms I'm pretty sure the future isn't set in stone. There was a definite chance destruction and death could occur due to the cult of Tiamat though, and Wyll was willing to enter an incredibly abusive pact to avoid that possibility. His alternative was to accept that life is struggle and uncertainty by nature, and he does not have total control over outcomes. The idea that his best might not be good enough and others might come to harm was enough to justify self-destruction in Wyll's own mind back then. In scenarios where Wyll ends his pact, it's narratively poetic that Mizora poses the same question. This is a way for audiences to examine whether or not Wyll has changed over the course of his pact, whether he looks at himself and life the way he did originally. Mizora tells him with the same false-pretense of certainty that if he doesn't use her power then his father will die and it will be Wyll's fault for not sacrificing himself in Ulder's name. Having Wyll break the pact feels appropriate to me. Whether he succeeds or fails in saving Ulder, it matters that he makes the attempt as a free man without any guaranteed outcome. If he succeeds, it's an especially good way to spit in the face of Mizora's manipulation. She never knew for sure what tomorrow would bring. She had no right to pretend that she did. Mystra does a similar thing to Gale. Gale might succeed in destroying the Absolute without detonating the orb. He might succeed in retrieving the Crown of Karsus. He might not. Mystra isn't in it for mortals here either way. She wants what she wants for herself when she wants it. And while the scene before the final battle varies depending on choices, I had one where Gale basically started panicking because if he didn't use the orb and the group's efforts failed--he thought that everyone who died to the Absolute and mindflayers would be because of him. He thought it would be cowardice and selfishness not to kill himself. He could have gone up alone, detonated the orb alone, and made CERTAIN nobody died except for him. The alternative was to risk failure for the possibility that he wouldn't need to die too. Like Wyll, Gale was taught not to trust himself. Like Wyll, Gale believes his life and well-being are acceptable prices for 'the greater good'. Like Wyll, Gale is being told that the fault of everyone's suffering if he tries and fails is not the Absolute, not the Emperor, not the Dead Three--but him. His best couldn't overpower those enemies, so it's his fault for letting everyone down. It's his fault for not just killing himself. For Wyll it isn't Mizora's fault if his father dies. It isn't Gortash's faut. Blame falls on him exclusively because he wasn't ready to put himself back into the power of an abuser. The attempt to shift accountability is incredibly dishonest. Both Wyll and Gale are basically being put into the allegory of the foresaken child. For anyone who may not know it, the story goes like this.

There is a perfect, utopian city. No one suffers, no one fights, no disease ravages its streets, no hunger grips its people. And everyone not only lives in peace, but lives in the certainty that their peace will never be broken. There is, however, a price to this. For all the residents of that city to enjoy tranquility a single, innocent child must be sacrificed to endure unimaginable torture. It's because of this child's suffering that everyone else is guaranteed happiness. Is that child's life an acceptable price?

Most people would say it isn't. The allegory exists to illustrate how people might decide to give cruelty and horror a pass.

There is another saying that exists, too. "Those who would sacrifice freedom for security deserve neither." That is also what is being demanded of Wyll and Gale--their freedom, their agency, their efforts rejected as inadequate. Only guaranteed outcomes will do according to their abusers... except life has no guarantees.

I would argue Wyll and Gale are both effectively forsaken children, who are being blamed for balking when told to accept their torment for the good of everyone else. Their abusers condemn them for not treating themselves as expendable.

There's a difference between a sacrifice freely made as a last resort when all alternatives are exhausted, and someone making a sacrifice because they regard their own life as cheap or are afraid of failure as a possibility. There's also a huge difference when someone sacrifices themself as their own idea compared to being coerced or manipulated into it. And as a fun personal experience that accidentally illustrated the point. During my first complete play through, it happened that there were two characters in-range of the Netherbrain. One was Karlach, wailing on the thing until it had about twenty HP left. The other was Gale. Gale had no powerful spells left, and no scrolls left. But he had cantrips and he was in-range. The last move in that fight was Gale killing the Netherbrain with shocking grasp. Considering that Gale started the game with basically none of his archwizard spells, that Mystra had no trust in his capabilities and encouraged him to doubt his own capabilities, that Mystra wanted him to kill himself regardless of whether it was necessary simply because it was certain... having Gale win on the reaction cantrip felt like the biggest fuck you he could have given. Could not have asked for things to unfold better than that personally. In any case the idea that Wyll and Gale come to realize they're more capable than they ever gave themselves credit, that they aren't disposable, and that they aren't to blame for the bad actions of other people seems like a key lesson for both of them imo.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Something I love about BG1+2 is how it simultaneously plays and subverts the demigod/chosen one narrative (which continues in BG3, except with only the subversion. (And Halsin is not joking when Durge tells him what they are: Do NOT advertise that you're a Bhaalspawn.))

I've always been fond of the set up in Saradush in ToB, where the surviving children of Bhaal are being corralled into the besieged city under promise of protection against the entire world - because basically literally the entire world is trying to kill the Bhaalspawn: Your more powerful siblings want you dead; your mortal neighbours, and likely your nation itself either thinks you're inherently evil and are ready to kill you, or you represent such a threat that they're ready to drive you out and/or kill you just in case. Case in point: the aforementioned siege outside the city walls with the army that wants you dead currently raining giant flaming rocks of death over your head.

Some of these guys have no idea what they are, or what's happening, until attempted murder happens.

Like this discussion with one of your random brothers, a guy called Alexander:

Alexander: "You don't look like one of the locals. Are you a child of Bhaal as well, lured here like the rest of us to face our inevitable end?" Charname: "As well? What do you mean?" Alexander: "I myself am one of Bhaal's progeny - or so I've been told. I guess Bhaal's blood runs thicker in some of his children than in others." Sarevok: "By your snivelling manners, I would say Bhaal's blood runs very thin indeed in your veins. Bah-why do I even waste my breath tormenting this cowering cur?" Alexander: "Uh... is there anything else I can help you with?" Charname: "How did you get here exactly?" Alexander: "I wasn't brought here by Melissan, like some of the others. My home village was burned to the ground by a dragon who claimed to be hunting me. My friends... my family... they threatened to give me to the dragon if I didn't leave. So I did. And I heard a lot of other Bhaalspawn were coming here. *sigh* Now I almost wish I hadn't come."

Spoiler alert: He dies. Every single Bhaalspawn in that city dies*, along with everybody except a handful of commoners (*except maybe Viekang, who was not particularly inclined to murder me, so Murder in Baldur's Gate is weird.)

You, a simple peasant from a farming village one day come of age and learn that your absent father was a god, and you are forced to flee forces that are trying to kill you (in this case, your much more powerful half-brother)... it sounds like the start to some kind of fantasy epic, but instead of any fancy destiny you end up in a war torn city surrounded by castoff divine bastards just like you, terrified and unwanted, and then you die, and are forgotten.

And that's what being a Bhaalspawn is!

Whatever grand lies Bhaal tells you in your dreams about how you're special and great power awaits you (if you behave and do his will), your job is: sow death, faith, fear and chaos wherever you roam, strengthen Bhaal's power, and then be a good child and die for Father. No exceptions, save perhaps one, who is explicitly a special prophecy child, and even then is supposed to be doomed by future FR canon because they're still Bhaal's "pawn". There's also Imoen, who might be spared simply by proximity to said prophecy child keeping her alive. Non-game "canon" screwed her over hard. (FR canon and I have a complicated relationship, it must be said. All copies of those books are to be ritualistically burned.)

idk where I'm going with this, I just love how bleak the situation in the city is. No grand destinies, only a discardable pawn to be used, abused and consumed.

...And also that part where Tethyr sends an army to kill you because obviously you are guilty of "crimes against [Tethyr] and, indeed, all of humanity!" by supposedly killing a whole city: They admit they can't prove it, but you're a child of murder, you were born guilty even if you didn't actively do anything.

No, really:

General Jamis Tombelthen: "You are guilty, [Charname]. Of this there is no doubt. And we will not risk your further endangerment of us all. You are a spawn of Bhaal and responsible for the destruction of the city of Saradush*. Your execution has been ordered, [Charname]. May the gods have mercy on your soul."

* I implore you to move with great urgency to intercept the Bhaalspawn before they can do any more damage. Whether or not they are responsible for what occurred in Saradush, we cannot allow them to continue and cannot afford the time for trial... - Tombelthen's orders, courtesy of the Queen of Tethyr

[2n2n]

I'd like to think a little out loud about Amane's perception of Tsukasa's escape from his boundary, and his possible underlying emotional arc regarding Tsukasa... he's a difficult boy who doesn't talk about most of his feelings, particularly about Tsukasa... so all we can do for now, until he talks, is theorize. But let's go...

Before the shinjuu, Amane ominously speaks in metaphors about the moon, & believing in something being real, even if nobody else does. It's a pretty obvious allusion to Tsukasa. He also mentions forgiving something and someone, even if nobody else could understand or forgive them. Amane is devoted to Tsukasa-- that's the only way I can read this, personally.

Amane in a recent chapter, revealed that his intention with the shinjuu was to save Tsukasa, & allow them to remain together.

we have seen that... perhaps in Amane's boundary, Tsukasa was kept in a stasis, enshrined in sakura blossoms, dressed in his regalia.

Tsukasa could only escape this boundary with the help of Sakura. We know Sumire could not leave her boundary without assistance, either. We also recently hear Tsukasa talk about needing to create your own exit from prison, & Amane... not responding to his cries for help, at some point.

seeing Tsukasa like this makes Amane emotional. With this encounter, Tsukasa believes Amane is happy to see him.

Amane snaps violently & emotionally after this moment, slamming Nene-chan into the ground by her wrists, in much the way we expect him to treat Tsukasa. Was that gesture intended for Tsukasa? We don't quite know what it means, yet. We also don't know what expression Tsukasa sends towards Nene-chan before departing! Mysteries.

Amane is upset as the Mitsuba conflict ensues, & wants to know why Tsukasa is doing all of this-- and presumably, why he's gone through all of the trouble to escape the boundary Amane placed him in (for his own protection?)....

Tsukasa declares that he loved the moment Amane finally stopped holding back, & killed him.

Amane becomes ... overwhelmed, emotional, crying, vulnerable. I do not believe what he is feeling is fear of Tsukasa for being crazy or something, I believe what he is feeling is fear of being seen, fear of discussion & acknowledgement of his grand gesture, fear of addressing feelings he has (cowardly?) avoided (?) by keeping Tsukasa in stasis (?)....

Amane, in response to this, shuts down & doubles down on his bleak belief system: that it doesn't MATTER if Tsukasa loves him, it doesn't MATTER because things can't be DIFFERENT, as a ghost, things can't CHANGE. Whatever regrets he had in life, whatever he failed to achieve with Tsukasa, whatever future he wished for of them... cannot come to be.

Amane & Tsukasa have no future, & nothing can be changed.

Clockkeepers happens, & Amane again doubles down on his belief system, of a fixed fate. There is nothing he can do to save Nene-chan.

By the Hell of Mirrors, I believe Amane .... begins to 'play' with Tsukasa. I personally believe Hell of Mirrors is essentially Amane & Tsukasa messing with everybody-- with Mitsuba & Nene-chan as their respective clowns. Tsukasa has playfully taken the role of Amane's 'rival', despite actually doing everything in service to Amane's wish. Amane plays at being Tsukasa's 'rival' back, and the entire 'fight' is extremely unserious for the two of them...

Let's say, extrapolating, that Tsukasa was a very suicidal person by nature. Let's say, that he never had the will to live, willing to trade his life for Amane's as a child, & willing to come back, knowing his death at Amane's hands is inevitable.

WE now know, Tsukasa has ONLY COME BACK, NOW, this time, in order to once again OFFER HIMSELF as a sacrifice for AMANE'S WISH. However, Amane, at this point in the manga-- volume 7-- doesn't seem to know Tsukasa's plan.

I think at this point, Amane is curious. Tsukasa escaped, Tsukasa is doing a lot of things. Maybe he's doing more specific and involved things than he ever has. Maybe Amane is curious what Tsukasa really... wants to do. Why can't they both be out, messing around, playing?

I don't personally think Amane never quelled Tsukasa out of an inability to OR a fear of him-- we regularly see him thrash, grab, throttle, scream at Tsukasa, we also see him nonchalantly peel the cuddly & clingy Tsukasa off of him without issue. He very clearly isn't actually afraid of being hurt by Tsukasa, and he DEFINITELY isn't afraid of telling Tsukasa what to do! I think Amane ALLOWED Tsukasa this freedom Tsukasa was suddenly inexplicably fighting for.

Picture Perfect rolls around, & Amane & Tsukasa are now blatantly working together, rather than the sloppy & makeshift playsession of Hell of Mirrors. Tsukasa created a circumstance, Amane collaborates with him. The goal of Picture Perfect is to permanently freeze Nene-chan in a painting, to functionally imprison her.

What Amane attempts to do to Nene-chan is not unlike what he had done to Tsukasa, in his boundary. In the name of "keeping you safe" or "saving you", Amane usurps their will, seeks to overtake their autonomy. It's easy to understand why Tsukasa thought this solution might be appealing to Amane... if he wanted to, he could keep Nene-chan in a kind of blind stasis.

I think Nene-chan makes Amane reflect on this impulse of his. I think Amane is scared to see himself... take this sort of path, all over again, with a living girl... with a girl with so much passion, optimism, so much possibility for herself....

.... but I also honestly think... right now anyway... that Amane cannot trust Tsukasa to run his own life. That unlike Nene-chan, Tsukasa had no dream for his future, no wish to grow up, go to college, get married, etc. All he ever wanted was to see Amane, to learn about him, to see to it Amane had a happy future, or at least... had whatever he wanted, whatever that was.... even if what Amane wanted was to throw away his future.

Amane pivots into attempting to add life to Nene-chan's lifespan, something he couldn't have possibly done for Tsukasa.

Now.... I think a terrible sort of miscommunication, misunderstanding... occurs, here, at the far shore. It's still up in the air, but I want to do my best to propose the situation...

Here, Tsukasa once again affirms to Amane that he loved the shinjuu. Tsukasa, who gave up on his life multiple times-- who never seemed eager to live-- relates to Nene-chan's desire to die in the far shore, to forego her future, for Amane.

Tsukasa prods Amane to think about repeating his act of destruction, to once again erase Tsukasa's existence. Amane is seduced by the suggestion, for this moment. It is appealing to him, intoxicating.

Amane understands doing this, would mean dismembering Tsukasa with his own hands.

Tsukasa is surprised Amane apparently already 'knew' about this, had thought about it... even if in the back of his mind. Amane was destroying yorishiro this whole time. Why did he allow that? Perhaps... it was a self-destructive urge of a sort?

I think Tsukasa's glee, his acceptance, his urging for another dose, is.... something Amane is trying to understand.

At this point, I think Amane has every question in his heart: Did Tsukasa understand why Amane killed him? Did he understand the meaning of the gesture? Does he finally understand Amane's love for him? Amane threw away his entire future for Tsukasa. He was deeply devoted to him, & he attempted to show that devotion in the form of the shinjuu. Amane said something like, "if you have no future, then I won't, either. If you don't want to live, then I refuse to live on. I'm going to keep us together, forever; you can't ever leave me. I won't allow my self to have a future without you." with his actions. Amane can't say things with his words, typically. He is really... awful at words.

What could "do it right" mean? Amane was willing to just have Teru blast him to bits in the Far Shore, so obviously, he doesn't truly value his existence, even now. He is our self-destruction boy.

But perhaps Tsukasa and Amane could simply perform shinjuu pt2, but this time, Amane knows explicitly that Tsukasa loves it, loves him, & maybe even this time, Amane can be sure Tsukasa understands what it means, to sink into oblivion together. To not force it on Tsukasa this time-- but-- to have his consent, to both be self-aware, mutually. The commitment, the devotion he attempted to convey... Maybe!!!! MAYBE some tiny part of Amane THOUGHT that was what happened, in the Far Shore. Maybe he thought he could blast himself to oblivion with an elated, beloved Tsukasa who 'gets it', & save Nene-chan's life & future. Maybe HE could finally 'do it right'!

I think at this point... Amane doesn't know why Tsukasa is doing anything. But I don't think that is bleak, I think that is actually exciting.

There is so much left unsaid between them... I think, for a moment, Amane has a shred of hope, that he could learn something new about Tsukasa.... who he's been unable to understand, or do anything for. Tsukasa, who asks for nothing... Tsukasa, who only tries to die again & again, who can't seem to UNDERSTAND, SEE Amane's love for him. Who Amane can't communicate a thing to.

Buuut... I think this flicker of curiosity, hope, the dream of being seen, understood, of communicating together finally, is why Amane is now flipping out, deeply upset & distraught by Tsukasa's same insistence as ever in his own lack of value.

I think that is why Amane is snapping at Tsukasa, saying "I hate you". He feels like Tsukasa is rejecting him, won't let them be together... doesn't WANT to be together! Tsukasa is here, again seemingly only wanting to die, wanting to leave him BEHIND... this time! Is that "doing it right", actually? It's "right" to be separated? You can understand Amane's unbridled agony.... how it turns into pure anger.

Amane's feelings failed to reach his otouto!!! this whole time, I really think Amane feared that, more than anything.

His EXISTENCE-- AS HANAKO-- an existence HE ties exclusively to being with respect to his crime-- rendered meaningless! Confirmed to mean nothing! Tsukasa wants to disappear, and that's that.

The entire point of the shinjuu was missed! His gesture of devotion & love-- was nothing, the past decades enshrining him-- was nothing. Tsukasa thinks you hate him. He's thought you hate him this whole time. You're so cartoonishly far from sharing the beautiful consummation of a second shinjuu together.

You can understand then how the sense of rejection, being misunderstood, contorts in Amane's poor frenzied brain until it becomes his own violently-spat rejection-- "I get it now, you're not even REALLY my brother!!! You're fake!! My little brother wouldn't do this to me!!!! You're not my Tsukasa!!! you CAN'T be!!!"

a very pathetic & childish response to rejection. "You can't reject me-- you're not even REAL! You rejecting me doesn't even mean anything!!! I'll reject your entire existence!!!" oh, Amane....

You can understand how Tsukasa simply watches the response... I think the intensity of it is interesting.

For a boy who likely once doubled down so hard on Tsukasa's authenticity.... it's an extreme 180. It's just a response to pain.

I think.... maybe we now, next, will explore, "what if Amane didn't do the shinjuu at all? What if Tsukasa simply disappeared for good, & Amane was left behind?" in a new timeline. This rejection of Tsukasa is an intense culmination of everything thus far... Amane's built-up curiosity, hope, feeling baited & seduced into imagining something satisfying, only to fall flat on his face. This timeline showed us the insurmountable extent of Tsukasa's belief in his lack of value, a belief so strong Amane cannot pierce it, not even if Tsukasa awakens adorned in silk in a bed of sakura blossoms.

.... but I can't pity Amane too much, because I swear to GOD if you'd only SAY "I love you", he would understand that. I'm sorry Tsukasa can't understand your abstract poetic gestures, Amane!!!!!!!! LOOK, IT'S HARD FOR NENE-CHAN TO UNDERSTAND THEM AS WELL--!

But she's a romance-loving cumrotted girl, she's better at this than Tsutsu.... she can miraculously kind of see through the gestures like , trying to murder another girl for her sake. it's very impressive of Nene-chan... but I think Tsukasa-chan needs you to... like, say it, very directly, okay!! We can't do the indirect stuff!!! I promise your otouto loves you, if you'd only do something like actually beg him to stay with you!!!!! But Amane isn't honest enough to do thaaaat....

in any event, as always, it's very hypocritical of Amane, who continuously keeps trying to leave Nene-chan behind, which often makes her feel rejected or confused. Why is Hanako always trying to leave her?

well, because he believes she couldn't have a happy or fulfilling life with him, who can't offer her anything she wants.

I'm sure Tsukasa feels the same way, Amane! I don't know what he thinks he can do for you! Aren't you better off without him?

Please-- Nene-chan... you have to help them. She has to see how much Amane needs Tsukasa, for herself... then, even if the Yugi can't tell each other clearly, she can tell them herself.

[becausesomething]

Pieces of you in me and a strawberry cake with chantili frosting (Jerza)

Sinopse:

The unexpected that comes with a slice of strawberry cake with whipped cream 💓

Based on a prompt: Write around "She was at that particular point in her life when every stranger she saw on the street reminded her of someone she once loved/hated/lost."

WC: 2K

I was on my way to my favorite bakery to have some alone time with a slice of strawberry cake with whipped cream topping. I needed a treat before heading to the next mission, but in reality it was a comfort and escape from the decision I would have to make.

However, the day was being strange because the people around me brought back memories....

Of our history, of your presence and the impact it had on my breathing, which was uncertain, of the accidental touch that made my heart almost jump out of my chest.

I avoided looking at them even though I knew they were looking at me with admiration, but my focus was buying my cake and going to sit at a more hidden table where I could have peace. A quick chat with the mission-completed baker. Could finally take a bite.

Until a person passed in front of me and clearly reminded me of you. I could only be going crazy because you were on a mission that would take a few months, but you would be back, and this dynamic was already natural for us.

For so many years hatred and revenge reigned. How I helped him, only to end up being expelled without being able to save anyone, and still having to carry the secret of what really happened inside that tower to save them from death. Scarlet, that name he gave me caused deep pain, but it evolved into tenderness after the confrontation in the sky tower. It was a relief to see that Jellal look that I fell in love with as a child. The armor I carry became just armor because I no longer needed to hide my pain. My friends were safe and could live the freedom that Natsu had achieved, and even in the face of Simon's sacrifice, that years-long nightmare had finally ended. Erza Scarlet didn't need to hide or repress her pain, or continue to carry the weight of sacrifices, because she had my family and friends.

With every bite of that cake, it's inevitable not to smile at that divine flavor. I lived for these little moments and pleasures. I could compare this feeling of feeling full to the comfort you gave me. Even if it was for brief encounters, feeling the presence and the effort you put in to redeem yourself from past mistakes rekindled that flame.

I wouldn't admit it beyond myself, but since the day I saw you leave and called me Scarlet again, and just remembering part of your memories, what I felt for you became intense and since then I haven't get you out of my mind. It was the beginning of dreams about a future we could share together, if only you would stop clinging to the past and allow yourself to give the present and me a chance. The reality was that the harsh words and actions you forced me to take were my affection and fear of losing you again screaming. I wanted you, but we both still had our own paths continuing to be walked alone.

Tears of joy and pleasure begin to fall from his right eye. I was almost at the end of that piece of cake, when I took a bite of a strawberry. The fresh and light acidic flavor mixing with the sweetness of the cake and whipped cream. It was the taste of paradise in my mouth.

Those were the exact words you said after kissing me. A kiss wrapped in tenderness, passion and freedom. You had changed for me, you were finally free to allow yourself to love and live to protect the people around with that feeling. That night, neither of us slept, we just wanted to enjoy being in each other's presence until the sun rose again. Between stolen kisses, fingers intertwined, like two people lost in love.

The unexpected thing that made me lose my composure in front of the rest of the guild, which is still talked about but soon hushed up when they realize I'm present, happened when you asked the master to join Fairy Tail. It no longer mattered how long we had to be separated on missions, we would return to the same space. And I continued to keep alive the memories of a Jellal who was not shy, provocative, aware of what he wanted and which became deep dreams of what you wanted for us. Despite the effect of the white magician's magic, I liked to keep those details to myself. How my body wanted to respond, but my mind knew that it was not the time or place to let myself be carried away by the pleasure of surrendering to him.

I finish the cake and relax in my chair, licking my fingers because nothing could be wasted from that slice of heaven. I feel a hand on my face, and within seconds of opening my eyes in surprise, I am robbed of a kiss.

-You are even more beautiful when you are caught off guard Scarlet

-We're in public Jellal, you shouldn't...

-Are we a couple or not?

Sitting in front of me, he takes my hand and intertwines their fingers, leaving me completely embarrassed but that smile became a weakness that made me strong.

-What are you doing here? You said the mission would take a few months, but it's just been...

He gets up and forces me to do the same, leading the way out of the bakery to the outskirts of the city, in silence and just smiling shyly. Several times I tried to come up with an answer, but he only pressed me tighter against him and quickened his pace.

-Jellal, stop! What is happening?! - I finally managed to let go and cross my arms, making a point of conveying the message that I wouldn't leave until I got answers.

-We're almost there Erza, just a few more meters and...

-Where? Since you arrived and didn't say anything... How are you, how did the mission go, where were you... Not that I'm controlling you and I see that you're fine, but I thought we were in a relationship and these are things that couples share.

As expected, he grabs me by the waist and, placing one of the locks behind my ear, he kisses me on the forehead.

-The mission was completed faster than I expected because I had help. I was far away gathering everything I needed to then be close. I've been building the house we're going to call ours.

I remain static processing that information, and looking at him while I just wanted to repress him for not having said anything. He spins around me and grabs me by the waist, hugging me from behind and pointing in a direction.

-Do you see that brick house with the wooden porch hidden by those yellow tress? It was built from the ground up, considering all the things you like that I remember you talking about when we were little.

He slides his hands and intertwines one with my fingers, and the other on my belly.

-It is our home, where we will continue writing our history and perhaps build a new future in our time.

[johaerys-writes]

Ch. 22: Futile Devices

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

In the late morning light, Achilles’ hair is like liquid gold. 

It glitters as it tumbles around his head in lazy waves, like a shimmering halo. It’s messy and disheveled yet it still looks as if an artist’s hands have arranged it carefully over the pillow. His features are perfect and serene in sleep, the light caressing the sharp angle of his jaw and the straight line of his nose, shadows ghosting over the side of his neck and hugging the delicate curve of his throat, his lips pink and sensual; he looks as if he’s in a painting already, the perfect picture of a lovely youth in repose. 

Patroclus lies on his stomach, pillow propped beneath his chin, and watches him for a very long time. 

It’s well past ten and Achilles still hasn't stirred, which is unusual for him. Patroclus can’t remember Achilles ever staying in bed too long after dawn. Even if he did, it would be to pester Patroclus until he finally gave up and got up with him. Perhaps last night was too intense for him, or the day before it. Perhaps Patroclus wore him out, or Antilochus before him, or a combination of the two. 

They really should talk about that. 

But… perhaps not just yet. Patroclus isn’t quite ready to let go of that warm, fuzzy feeling. He wants to hold on to this bliss for as long as he can, without spoiling it with thoughts of the past or the future. It’s enough for him that he can exist in this moment with Achilles, watching as his chest rises and falls gently with every breath, eyelids twitching in dreaming. There will be time to talk about the rest. 

He hopes they will have time. 

Laika trots into the room and comes to sit by Patroclus’ side of the bed. She gazes up at him with her big wet eyes and whines quietly, scratching at the blanket. Patroclus may be able to ignore the future, but the present is very insistently tugging him out of bed so that he’ll take it for a walk. 

Achilles doesn’t open his eyes as Patroclus quietly shushes Laika and slips from underneath the covers, and if that isn’t testament to how exhausted he must be then Patroclus doesn’t know what is. He pulls his sweatshirt over his head and pads silently out of the room. Achilles’ jacket is hanging by the peg by the door and Patroclus throws it on before walking outside; it’s much easier than walking back towards his room and risking Laika’s impatient woofs as she’ll inevitably follow him there waking Achilles up. He pulls on his hood, and walks out. 

It’s a clear, crisp day. A sharp wind is blowing through the park, but it isn’t unpleasant. It feels fresh and clean. It reminds Patroclus of Phthia and its clear skies, its rolling hills and wide open plains; it’s a bit of a welcome change in the stuffiness of the big city. 

A strong gust ruffles his hair; Patroclus huddles deeper into the jacket. It smells like Achilles, warm and sweet and a little musky, and a grin comes to Patroclus’ lips unbidden. His heart flutters and his stomach twists in excitement at the thought that he will see Achilles again the moment he walks through their apartment door. It’s a little ridiculous, because Patroclus has hardly spent a single day of his life without seeing Achilles, but it’s even better now, infinitely better, because now Patroclus can kiss him. He can touch him, he can look at him openly without fearing that he’ll be caught. He can slip right back into bed if Achilles isn’t up yet and pull him close and smell the fawn-smooth skin of his neck without needing an excuse. He can just do that. The thought alone makes every nerve in his body sing. He’s all giddy like a child on Christmas day.  

Laika seems to share none of his enthusiasm to return home; she’s more than happy to sniff and examine every tree and bench and corner they pass by. After ignoring her for most of the morning, Patroclus feels like he has to make it up to her, so he lets her do as she pleases until she eventually grows bored and starts tugging at the leash so they can go back home. They jog and then run down the last block, and by the time they reach their front door Patroclus is flushed and panting and grinning, scratching behind Laika’s ears with one hand as he fumbles with the key with the other. 

Achilles emerges from the room, sleepy and bleary-eyed in just his boxers just as Patroclus closes the door behind him and hangs the jacket by the peg.

“Hey,” Patroclus says, still laughing as Laika hops around his feet and plays tug with the leash. He takes it off her collar and gives her a last pat on the head before urging her towards her food and water bowls. “Did we wake you? Laika’s very energetic this morning.”

Achilles just blinks at them both, his face still a little puffy from sleep and a clear imprint of the pillow on his cheek. “I woke up while you were out.” 

“Shall I make us some coffee?” Patroclus walks to the kitchen and starts opening the cupboards and taking out mugs and jars. As the coffee maker hums awake and the kitchen fills with its warm and comforting smell, Patroclus rummages through the cupboards and the fridge to make them something to eat. Their fridge is more or less empty, with nothing but a couple forgotten apples in a corner, a stick of butter and some leftover takeaway that should really be thrown away. Patroclus regrets that he didn’t think to buy Achilles breakfast, but he didn’t want to be away for longer than he should. “There isn’t much, but I’m sure we’ll be able to scrap something together. Maybe… an apple crumble? Sort of? I think we still have some flour left, unless you used it all up yesterday—”

His sentence is cut off when Achilles’ arms wind around his middle and squeeze. He presses himself to his back, face dropping on his shoulder.

“I woke up and the bed was empty,” he murmurs against the fabric of Patroclus’ shirt. “I thought you were gone.” 

“Oh.” Patroclus rests his hand on Achilles’ arms where they’re wrapped around him. When he rolled out of bed, he didn’t stop at all to think what Achilles would make of him missing. But given their history… the mornings after being intimate were always the worst. “Laika had to go, and I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t realise….” 

He shifts around in Achilles’ hold to face him. Achilles tilts his face up towards him; his eyes are still a little tired, dark circles beneath them from the previous night, but they’re clear and bright as always, reflecting the light. Affection blooms in Patroclus’ chest at the sight, warming him. He cups Achilles’ cheeks. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says softly. “I was only going to be out for a little while.”

“I know. It’s okay. When I saw that Laika wasn’t here either I figured it out, but still…” He sighs, resting his face between Patroclus’ palms. “Do you regret it?” he asks, very serious.

“What?” 

“What happened last night. Do you regret it?” 

Read the rest on AO3!

[oh-shtars]

Hello Flicker, I hope life is treating you well. So a few questions, so let's go.

What was Asha like while she was still working at the palace? Her relationship with her mother, grandfather and royal couple? Did she feel relatively happy? Why was she taken there? Does she have opinions on this? What was her and her father's relationship with the stars like and how did it change after his death? Does Asha have any perspective for her own future, something she sees herself doing? Would she die for someone or would she think about self-preservation because her dying would mean causing her mother and grandfather another loss and pain? Would she die for Sueño even though she knew it would devastate him and cause her family pain if it was for the greater good? How does she handle arguments? Does she like to wear her hair down on any occasion? Sometimes she, just like her instinct, craves violence before repressing it? What makes you happy? Does she have any favorite sweets? Does she have nightmares about the past? Does Mag use this against her at some point (please say yes!) Do she and Dahlia still have any contact? How do her cultural roots manifest in her everyday life? Does she have a favorite memory with her dad?

What was Sueño's life like at Astral Real? Did he have any "legal guardian" responsible for him, due to being the equivalent of a child? What was the act of love that created it? Do stars themselves feel romantic feelings or something similar? Is stars falling in love with humans something relatively common or has it at least happened before? Now remembering Au de Any, how do stars die and does this influence its culture? Has Sueño ever been afraid of dying at Mag's hands? How is the magic taken from him? It hurts? Was his room really that small for him to have claustrophobia or was it just in comparison to the general sky and hence the panic? Was he a naughty child? Did he have friends there? Has he ever tried to escape before it inevitably goes wrong? Does he have a favorite universe? Has Amaya ever visited it alone to study it like the nerd she is? And if so did he feel even more trapped as an object of study? Does he think being locked up is humiliating? How does not being able to communicate affect him since he was apparently quite talkative, does he feel frustrated at not being able to communicate? Did Mag and Amaya ever make fun of him for this? Does Sueño hate them? If so, does he hate them equally or Mag more? What is his true form? Did he come to have general resentment towards humanity at some point? Does he know anything about Mag's past? Why does he feel guilty?

...annnd that's it. for now;-) (a big hug!!)

RFTS!AU AskBox #1

OH FLIP-

Lmaooo THANKS so much for the paragraph of questions! Didn’t realise how much you really want to know for this AU. I’m touched. 🥹💖✨

I might not be able to answer all of them at the moment because ~SPOILERS~ so sorry about that.

ASHA:

1. What was Asha like while she was working at the palace?

As a little girl growing up there, she mostly stayed in the castle guest room she and her mother were given and draw or read the hours away. Poor child was not as talkative and lively ever since her dream of becoming just like her father someday beside him was crushed. As she got older, Asha started offering help to Sakina and other workers in the castle, still keeping to herself.

If she has something in her mind, Asha is most likely to keep it to herself out of fear of being shut down.

She’s a girl who aspires to be more but is scared to get her hopes up in case they get crushed again. She’s really going to learn that it’s okay to “Reach for the Stars” and have hope. Even if it’s scary.

……….

2. Why was she taken there and what are her opinions on it? Was she happy there?

Asha and Sakina were taken to the castle as a humble offer from the royals after their home was destroyed in a fire, along with her father’s life in it.

I mostly took inspiration of this idea from the line “If your home were to crumble….I’d let you live here for free.”

Magnifico explained it that since Tomás was his dear apprentice assistant for some time, it’s only right to look after his family after all he has done for him. Asha and her mom won’t have to worry about a thing and all they have to do is repay their kindness by offering their service in the castle. (I hear people who work in the castle have a higher chance of getting their wishes granted too :)

Asha’s opinion on the situation? She’s not sure about it. She’s grateful for the royals’ generosity and she finds it fair enough that they help at the castle. Buuuuut, there’s something so restricting about it that she can’t make sense. Their schedule has limited breaks and Asha could almost barely find the time and energy to draw or do whatever she likes. Neither does her mom.

(Also, her boss just stinks- But you didn’t hear that from me 🤫)

Plus, she strangely feels like someone is always watching her back or something…

……..

3. Asha’s relationship with Sakina, Sabino and the Royal Couple.

Asha loves her mother and appreciates her effort, but she’s concerned of the fact that Sakina is no longer able to pursue her passion in being a seamstress. Meanwhile, Sakina is saddened that the spark in her daughter’s eyes has faded. She’s the one who tries to convince Asha to reconnect with her friends whom she drifted apart with. (Something that Asha procrastinates with too)

Fun fact! Sabino is not Asha’s paternal grandfather in this AU. He’s the kingdom’s retired royal advisor who’s friends with Tomás and has sort of watched Magnus grow up over the years until he inherited the throne. Because of Sabino’s relationship with her father, Asha visits him at least once a week and they treat each other like family.

(She has called him ‘Saba’ at one point and she wanted to just die right then and there. Lol. He didn’t mind.)

Asha views Amaya sort of like another mother figure who’s there to comfort her if she messes up. Amaya has actually persuaded her husband to take Asha as his assistant, claiming that the position would help her gain confidence and allow Asha to participate in helping Rosas just like she wanted. It’s not like she had other reasons for that. Nooooooooo……

Asha’s opinion on Magnifico isn’t….pretty. Mag puts his best face when they’re in public but ever since Asha became his assistant, Asha can already tell how irritated he is at her presence. He thinks she’s too intuitive like her dad. The poor girl feels like she’s walking on eggshells around this man.

………

3. What was her and her father’s relationship like with the stars and how did it change after his death?

As I said before, Tomás was the previous king’s apprentice and then Magnifico’s assistant for a few years. He would come back home a bit late in the night and shower his family with all the love like he hasn’t seen them in days. He’s a fun and chill guy whose high ambitions balances out Sakina’s more realistic view on life.

Tomás would tell Asha her favorite stories before she goes to bed and encourage her to create drawings and gifts and initiate with her 7 bestest friends. Other than working at the castle, Tomás is an astrologer and philosopher at heart with beliefs in Wishing Stars, and Asha dreams to grow up to be like him. Back then when she wasn’t afraid to dream big and hope for the best.

That was before tragedy struck of course…

……

4. Does Asha have something she sees herself doing? Anything for the future?

If she does, Asha doesn’t let herself hold onto it too much since the possibility of it is slim. At least that’s what she thinks. Boy, if only she knew my plot outline for her….

…….

5. Would she die for someone or hesitate? Would she die for Sueño?

I meaaaaaan, I’d say that her being a loving person is both her strength and weakness.

………

6. How does Asha handle arguments?

She’s not one to start arguments sooo she bites her tongue from snapping anything back.

……….

7. Does she like to wear her hair down on any occasion?

Yeah sometimes, when she’s outside and the wind just blows on her hair. But most often, she braids it up so it won’t get into her face when working.

…….

8. Does Asha ever crave violence?

Nooooo. That’s Valentino’s thing.

………

9. Does she have any favorite sweets?

She used to like the cookies she’d bake together with Dahlia and her other friends. Hehe, good times~

………

10. Does she have any nightmares about the past and does Magnifico uses this against her at some point?

Hmmmm, idk. Hopefully nothing too terrible that will come to bite her in the arse sometime in the future. Hopefully not a wish that Mag could easily take to his own advantage….

Am I that mean? (Yes, yes I am.)

……..

11. Does she and Dahlia still have any contact?

Asha finds Dahlia in the royal kitchen at times since the girl’s parents are the royal cooks. She mostly bakes though. But they haven’t had a proper conversation for years after Asha had grown distant and closed in after her father’s death. Now, it’s just awkward small-talk, not like before when they were the bestest friends.

Besides, Asha struggles to socialise with her old friends again due to that gap of unfamiliarity that time had made and she feels like she’s intruding into their lives anyway.

……..

12. How do her cultural roots manifest in her everyday life?

Her old home has a European exterior and North African interior as it was said in the Wish art book. She’s also one to value hard-work, which is why the easy talents gifted by the king to his citizens give her some weird vibes. She’s also unnerved by how Rosas’ citizens are SO obsessed with the idea of having a wish granted one day.

Plus, Asha almost never goes out without at least some of her jewellery and her doodles in her sketchbook, I like to imagine, could be some references to the cool patterns and designs shown in the Wish Artbook.

……

13. Does Asha have a favourite memory with her dad?

Before the night skies strangely became too cloudy, Asha and Tomás would sit outside their house and stargaze, where he would tell her plenty of mythical stories about the magical beings that watch over them from above.

……….

14. What makes her happy?

Whenever she gets to create and just be able to forget her worries even just for a little bit by sketching. Or just playing around with Valentino. Just doing anything just to see someone happy makes her feel all warm inside. Asha is very empathetic and wants others to not feel the same crushing loss she had. She’ll listen as much as they need to, even if the same treatment isn’t done to her.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Star/Sueño:

1. What was Sueño’s life like in the Astral Realm?

As free as a baby deer in the forest and as ‘Hakuna Matata’ as life there could be. He was happy to be there, don’t get me wrong. There’s limited worries and fun with being a young starling just listening to the Wish flowers’ melody of “I Want” songs and looking into the sparkling rivers to human-watch in his universe.

But most often though, he daydreams on what it must feel like to go down there just like the other older and mature Wishing Stars.

………….

2. Did he have a “legal guardian” responsible for him in childhood?

A star with lots of experience and has helped grant a very difficult but very special wish from the deepest heart is usually granted to become an “Alpha Star.” There are multiple from each universe and because of their experience, they usually look after and guide younger starlings.

They are also very special because they’re the only ones that can permanently grant a wish. “Non-Alpha Stars” can’t. Sueño had his universe’s “Alpha Stars” who helped guide him how wishes and his magic works.

…………

3. What was the “Act of Love” that created him?

Yes, stars gain consciousness or are ‘born’ when a mutual and first Act of True Love between two mortals shoot up to the sky and magically brings a ball of burning gas to life. Platonic, familial, or romantic doesn’t really matter. From the time they are born, stars are familiar with the development or falls of that relationship that gave them life until the end.

Idk what to call those pair of two people yet without sounding weird. I don’t want to call them a star’s parents since there’s such thing as platonic love giving life to them. Aaaand that might be a bit awkward? (If y’all have an idea on what, I’d appreciate the help 😅)

Anyways, I’d like you to know that there would be a point that stars will eventually live out their ‘creators’ since they have a far longer lifespan. Unfortunately for some of them, very young stars, even those that were just born, could already have their ‘creators’ pass away. So they’re ‘orphaned’ in a way.

I may or may not be saying that Sueño is a star that gets uncomfortable with mentioning the idea about his pair of ‘creators.’

……….

4. Do stars themselves feel romantic feelings and is it a common experience to feel with humans before?

Friendships with their wish-maker is common. Even when their job is done and they have to return, that doesn’t stop them from watching over their friend in the sky though. But romantically??

It’s not impossible and it’s not a crime to develop romantic feelings since one can’t help it. But it’s also highly NOT recommended to pursue a romance with a human as it would only further cloud their judgment, leading to biased choices that could cause severe consequences.

………..

5. How do stars die and how does it affect them?

They can die, sure, but not in a very long while because of their lifespan of over a million years. I imagine they just die once their core gets weaker and weaker until it no longer has enough magic to hold their stardust together and their light just gets dimmer until they disintegrate.

The core of a Wishing Star is the most vital part of themselves and is the source of their Wish and Stellar Magic. If anything happens to it, it significantly causes negative effects to the star. Let’s just hope nothing bad happens to Sueño’s, am I right?

………..

6. Has Sueño ever been afraid of dying in Mag’s hands?

Everyday.

……….

7. How is his magic taken from him and does it hurt?

Believe me when I say what Mag did on him was far worse than what you probably think.

………..

8. Was his room really that small for him to have claustrophobia, or was it just in comparison to the general sky and hence the panic?

I’m not sure his prison can really be called a ‘room.’ But it’s enough to definitely trigger his claustrophobia. Actually, anything that makes him feel like he can’t move or feel imprisoned again makes him feel completely itchy and uncomfortable. In severe cases, it causes a panic attack.

……….

9. Was he a naughty child?

You have no idea.

………

10. Did Sueño have any friends in the Astral Realm?

Plenty actually. :D

He’s actually considered a bit of an oddball because he just has this unique fascination with humans and the wonder of visiting their realm at a very early age. The other stars usually are in no rush to become official wishing stars. They become one once they’ve answered “one important and special question” and had completed their own quest down in the Human Realm.

………

11. Has Sueño ever tried an escape attempt?

Yep, multiple times in his first few years of captivity. But at some point, you just have to accept that escape is futile in this scenario.

…….

12. Does Sueño have a favourite universe?

Sueño loves his home universe a lot actually. (Who knows if he still feels the same way….)

But if he were to choose his second favourite, it’s probably that one where this one young boy goes on an adventure on a flying ship in space to find a planet filled with treasure.

……….

13. Has Amaya ever visited him alone to study him like the nerd she is? If so, what’s Sueño’s opinion on being an object of study?

It’s kind of hard to do that when your subject is kept imprisoned in a dark-magic enchanted star-shaped tablet and is unwilling to cooperate.

………..

14. Does he ever think being locked up is humiliating?

Humiliating is the last word he’d describe his predicament when he’s literally fearing for the worst everyday.

…………

15. Does Sueño ever feel frustrated at not being able to communicate since he can be quite talkative? Has the Royal Couple ever made fun of him for this?

Yep, definitely. Imagine not being able to be heard when you want to say something. That doesn’t happen in the Astral Realm, but why here? I guess one of the things Sueño really wants is to be understood and listened to.

The Royal Couple? Well obviously, what do you think? It makes their plan easier if their prisoner can’t communicate the typical way.

……..

16. Does Sueño hate the Royal Couple? Does he hate them equally or does he hate Magnifico more?

He has complex feelings about them. That’s for sure.

……….

17. What is his true form?

Sueño doesn’t have one. He can shift in to whatever he wants but none of them is his default form. :)

……….

18. Did he come to have a general resentment towards humans at some point?

I wouldn’t say resentment but just a general distrust. It’s not Sueño’s character to wish great harm towards anyone at all. But when push comes to shove, could you honestly blame him? (Yes, I am referring to the ‘you-know-what’ moment)

……….

19. Does he know anything about Mag’s past?

Way more than he lets on…..

………..

20. Why does he feel guilty?

That’s for me to know and for you to find out :33

……….

Let me know what you think about these @ficsinhistory. I apologise in advance if the answers were a bit vague or repetitive. 😅

Btw, I always love reading your enthusiastic and supportive feedbacks for the RFTS!story! 💖✨💖

[nyrasbloodyclover]

the great war (aemond targaryen x oc)

masterlist (read the warnings!!)

a/n: i poured my soul into this. i still haven't finished it. enjoy.

1. the letter

128 AC

Reila Stark had plans for today. She woke up, ready to greet her mother and later find her father, practice some archery and maybe read. Instead all of that, their maester, Kennet, knocked on her door and gave her an envelope.

"Your father wants to see you after you read this." And he left. 

The envelope was untouched. It had Tully's seal that had yet to be broken. Reila knew that Elmo Tully and her father, Cregan, were discussing the possibilities of war. Everyone knew Aegon took Rhaenyra's birthright that Reila's family swore to protect. It was a matter of time before she sends ravens to the north. Or dragons. The war was inevitable, she knew that much.

She gently opened it, not knowing what to expect. It was short, but neat. What would Elmo want to say to her? She was calm when she read—

My lord Stark, I will be forward when I speak of our alliance. The war is coming and it would be wise if we join our houses. Your eldest with my eldest. I advise you reply as soon as possible. I fear we must prepare our armies. 

She slowly put the letter down. Reila was happy to help her father, but she was curious to why he didn't read the letter first.

"Father?" She said to Cregan Stark when she entered the room. Him and her mother—Arra—were eating breakfast. A rare sight, she must admit, mostly because her father was a busy man. Reila sat beside her mother and took her warm hand. Lady Arra smiled at her and she returned, looking at her mother's pregnant belly. She hoped it was a girl.

"Yes, my dear? I expect you have questions about the letter?" He was speaking like she understood what the message meant. Why didn't he read it first? 

Lord Cregan Stark was a strange man. He was a fierce warrior. She knows every story behind her fathers battle scars and she's seen him wield his sword. She wasn't old enough, merely seven, when Cregan overthrew his uncle, but Reila loved hearing stories about that period. But also she's been there when he tucked her into bed and told her stories before she fell asleep. He knew her. To the bone. So she didn't have to say anything.

"If you must know, I didn't read it because It's about your life and your future. It hardly concerns—"

"It hardly concerns you? We have to prepare for a war!" Why was he saying all that? It didn't sound like him. At all. Cregan loved and wanted to know what was happening on his land at all times.

"Cregan, what is she saying?" Her mother looked concerned and confused. They weren't a perfect match, her parents, but they were trying and they loved each other, so that counted for something. Cregan married Arra when he became Lord of Winterfell, after knowing her all his life. They loved each other. She wanted to have that with someone one day.

"Everything is being handled. You musn't worry, sweet wife."

Reila was not so sure about that. Elmo's words sounded almost desperate. But she had no business telling her father how to rule and what to do with his men.

"What did the rest say?" Her mother squeezed her hand. Reila was still in her bed attire and completely out of place, but this couldn't wait.

"I am to be wed, mother." She gave Arra a small but honest smile, to show that she was willing to help their family and take part in her duty. 

Lady Arra's features revealed nothing. "To whom, my child?" 

"Lord Tully's son, Kermit." She said.

Her father ate in silence. His beard and hair were in place, which was unusual, but the rest of him had written Warden of the North, all over. The dark colors, brooding features, the direwolf on his chest and the fur-edged cloak around his chair. He only looked up once at his wife and let Reila speak.

Her mother was the definition of beauty. Round, pale face, full lips, midnight blue dress that was so dark it was almost black.Reila was a spitting image of her mother. The hair, the face, the softness in her eyes. Her smile could spare Reila of any troubles that she had, but seeing her mothers almost disapproving look made Reila slouch.

"What's the matter, Arra?" Her father asked.

Her mother looked like she was trying to find the best words that wouldn't hurt either of them. And when she finally delivered them, It wasn't what Reila expected.

"You cannot sell our daughter to some noble house for a few thousand men." Her answer was sharp.

"Are you out of your mind? I'm not selling her. This is our greatest chance in surviving a fucking civil war!" He made sure not to raise his voice, but the anger was still there. If the word spread, people would panic and only chaos would come out of it.

"Mother, It's alright. I'm sure he's a good man and will be a fine husband." Reila tried to soothe her mother just a little bit. And in reality— she was fine with it. She knew she couldn't have an epic romance tale. She also knew her father was planning this for a while. He knew what the letter was going to say. 

"Very well," her mother said, but still looked like she'd end Tully's bloodline, "Reila, go dress. We must start preparing for the wedding." 

She glanced at her father, but he still looked sure of himself. Reila was Cregan Stark's daughter and if he could get through something, so could she.

•

She was brushing her hair when her father walked in. "You still haven't said if you're fine with this marriage," he said.

She did. She said so to her mother, but Cregan knew better. 

Reila made peace with her future and nothing would make her uncertain when it comes to helping her family. 

"We need Elmo's men," she pinned up her dark hair, "I'll do my part." She said with confidence. Then a spark of something appeared that made her want to bargain with her father. 

"In exchange I want to go with you." 

Cregan's eyes widened, "What?"

"Instead of being kept in a castle with my soon-to-be husband, I'll get a taste of freedom before my real duties as a wife begin."

"Freedom? Are you hearing yourself right now? You want me to take you to war!"

"It doesn't have to be long. A month, perhaps. Please let me go with you and I'll even marry both of his sons, please!"

He thought for a moment, grazing his dark beard. Reila knew that once she marries she won't be able to see her father daily. This would be like a goodbye to her childhood.

"Not a word to your mother. She's pregnant and her due is any day now." Reila jumped from her seat in excitement and hugged her father.

"Thank you! Thank you!" He let out a rich laugh that made Reila's chest full.

"Very well, daughter. You must go to your mother now. She needs you." Reila knew he was talking about her mother's pregnancy.

"Do you have a name in mind?" She asked, her head still buried in her father's strong chest.

"Rickon." Reila was her father's oldest and only child. She knew he wanted a male heir, but that didn't stop him from loving her unconditionally.

"You are so sure it's going to be a son?" She said, mockingly.

"My biggest concern is their health, but your mother and I talked. She thinks it's a boy."

•

She went to the library and began studying history after failed attempts to learn High Valyrian. She felt foolish just trying to pronounce the words without having someone help her. History was her comfort. It already happened. Years passed since those events and she loved to read about them. It was like reading regular stories, but knowing to recite battles from actual history would get her praises and applauds from her father's friends.

The books were old, older than her, even. She could easily get lost in them and that's precisely what happened. 

The sun went down and her father came to check on her once, but she barely acknowledged him while reading about King Maegor's life. Now she understood why he was "The Cruel." She liked princess Rhaena. She liked to think they would be good friends if they somehow ended up in the same room.

The candle that Maester Kennet lit up was coming to an end and she sighed in annoyance. Reila decided to blow it out and go to bed. It was pretty late. Her back started to hurt from sitting in the same position the whole day.

"Lady Reila, you must come right away. Your father said someone came to pay a visit."

Reila frowned. At this ungodly hour? The mysterious visitor peeked her interest and she quickly got up to find out who it was.

Her father was sitting on his throne and looking at a young man dressed in red from head to toe. "Dear daughter, Prince Jacaerys decided to pay us a visit!"

And he didn't care to mention that the unexpected visitor was the Crown Prince himself? 

Reila bowed, "My Lord. May I ask, what do we owe the pleasure?"

Jace came up to Reila and the only thought that was running through her mind was Why couldn't my father marry me to someone like him? He had the manners and the dragons. Her soon to be husband only had the army, for all that she knew.

He kissed her hand and her cheeks reddened. She already liked him. "I'm here on behalf of my mother, The Rightful Queen, my lady." And he listens to his mother!

"Well, let's hear it, my lord," said her father. He was unusually friendly. It seemed he too liked Prince Jace. Who wouldn't?!

"Your Father, Rickon Stark, bent the knee and swore loyalty to The Queen several years ago." The people in the room began whispering, but Cregan shushed them right away.

"Yes, I recall. My old man was a good man. Don't worry, boy, the Starks haven't forgotten an oath yet."

"I am glad to hear it, Lord Stark." He smiled and Reila melted at the sight. She wanted to scream at her father to wed them now, but she knew he was already betrothed. 

"My prince, House Stark will fight beside Queen Rhaenyra for as long as we can manage. Every man in this castle will die protecting the rightful Queen." Cregan's voice was loud and proud and Reila knew her father wasn't exaggerating. He meant every word.

"You have the Crown's unending gratefulness." The prince's back was straight, voice sure. He was his mother's son.

"Now that we have that settled...We're going for a hunt tomorrow. What do you say, my prince?" Cregan laughed enthusiastically and Reila couldn't help but smile.

"Then I must go to bed right away." And the maids prepared a room for him, but Reila could see he wasn't expecting anything from them. They could've given him a mattress in the middle of a ball room and he wouldn't complain.

[defectedrockstar]

You are right, we are giving Kale’s group more credit than they deserve. It’s not like they were actually expecting someone to bust in and hack the systems to find out what SPECTRA actually is. I mean, in the game, Korsica was told that it was a firmware update and hadn’t started to investigate further until Chai told her.

The idea of Kale brainwashing Robyn the same way as he did to Roxanne is intriguing because it goes to show how much of a threat Kale’s group is. Yes, Salem is a threat that shouldn’t be ignored, but it’s currently unknown to Team CRWBY-RUSH of when she’s going to strike. So instead of worrying about the inevitable future threat, they have to focus on the current threat that is here right now: Kale’s group.

And with Robyn being brainwashed could lead to the Happy Huntresses becoming involved as well. They are her teammates after all, so they’ll know something off about her once she becomes brainwashed by Kale. This could lead to them stubbornly trying to discover why (considering their dislike towards Atlas personnel) that could lead to a some outcomes.

Like CRWBY-RUSH taking notice when the two teams coming across each other during their investigations (which could lead to learning about Robyn not being apart of bad guys, but actually under control of the bad guys), or maybe the Happy Huntresses ends up being captured and brainwashed as well (and that could lead to a potential team fight to go against).

With the numbers, Cinder will certainly have to play it safe. If anyone has a chance to slip through undetected, it would be Neo. Even then, will Cinder actually risk going after Fria just so she could get the Winter Maiden powers? I mean (if I remember correctly), even Salem told her to wait in the show, and that was when Ironwood was slowly losing it to the point of declaring Martial Law. I’m not sure if she has the chance.

Alright. Let's say, best case scenario, Kale is defeated and Tyrian is captured. The aftermath of it all is that people are fearful of Vandelay since SPECTRA became public thanks to Watts, Winter is the new Winter Maiden, and Salem is about to come in at Atlas with her army of Grimm. This is best case scenario because Clover is alive, no one is betraying each other, and they freed Robyn from mind control. Now they have to deal with the panic and the Grimm threat, on top of trying to spread the word about Salem.

This means our large group would split up. I think Ironwood, the Ace Ops, Winter, and Chai's group would stick with Atlas, securing the relics and preparing for war. Team RWBY and everyone else would go to Mantle to help the civilians and get them to evacuate.

Meanwhile, let's say Cinder played it safe and bide her time to wait for Winter to get her powers. This means her and Winter will clash at the battlefield. Neo, along with Watts, would retrieve the relics.

Here are the changes of events I feel are worth discussing.

1. Oscar and Ozpin

Without Jimmy shooting a child in the story, Ozpin doesn't have to step in to help Oscar. However, I do think when Salem is at their doorstep, Ozpin would return but only keep Oscar in the know like the original.

2. They tell Ironwood EVERYTHING

Ruby would apologize for keeping secrets, but after everything she learned how much being a leader can burden someone and wants to tell Ironwood that not only can Salem not be killed, but the lamp does have a wish. This could lead to them using it but they would have to be extremely careful on what to use it for. Could be how to not kill Salem, but render her powerless. Or they don't use it.

3. Who tells the world about Salem?

I am still thinking Ruby can do it, as there are people out there in the world who know her and would vouge for her. The problem is that Mantle is really not liking Atlas, the Schnees, or Vandelay right now. Which brings me to an idea I had.

4. Chai's semblance development.

So, this is a work in concept. But, I felt that through time, Chai's semblance could grow and develop to be able to not only effect him but those around him. Hear me out. We have Ren's semblance that nullifies emotions, allowing people to be calm and their negative emotions repressed. Chai's can be the opposite. His music, playing wide and channeling his aura, with some tech help and a aura boost from Jaune, he could perform the best rallying song ever. His music reaching far and wide, giving people an emotion, a happy one. One where it brings people back to happier days, one that gives people hope, one that tells them to stand up and not let their lives be taken by those who want to silence their voice. Like a crowd, they all start to sing as Chai plays, standing defiant to the coming horde of Grimm.

The biggest Bardic Inspiration ever.

[throwaway-yandere]

Dear my Penpal,

Happy Irodori Festival!

This is the first time for me to write a letter to someone, so I'm quite intrigued to see who I'll get, haha. If you receive this, then that's great— it means that it's working and the postal office hadn't decided to leave my letter unsent.

Enough about that, I'm hoping you're having a great day so far. Please remember to take care of yourself, and to take breaks if you deem it necessary. Maybe in the future, you and I can meet up somewhere in Inazuma. I'm planning to head there for the festival, so I hope to see you during the festivities!

— Vermiculis Creatio

cw: body horror, yokais, yandere behavior, completely strange plot in general lol

a/n: iM SORRY HE'S MEAN I HAVE NO GRUDGE AGAINST YOU I THINK YOUR PEN NAME IS SUPER DOPE BUT HE IS JUST MEAN TTT___TTT

From this yandere genshin secret pen pal event

✥ YOU GOT A LETTER FROM YOUR SECRET PEN PAL!!!

"Hana ni arashi," the wanderer muttered with his hand slightly reaching for the sky, awaiting the inevitable raindrops.

His foretold half-jokes about rain materialized as he prophesied in the letter. Many had fled to find protection from the joy-ending rain, but he remained motionless beneath Ritou's tanabata tree. Earlier today, he was discreetly observing the festival's vendors and books as he wandered around with lordly nonchalance, making remarks about humanity's consistently obnoxious literature despite his irminsul shenanigans.

"So the protagonist still wanders as an object-apparition in the end?" Wanderer muttered as he clapped the book shut. "How dull."

Seems like no matter how much he tampered with the white tree, the dead will never come back to life.

He had little to examine now that all the stalls were protected by larger stores and private residences. The fact that the branches and his hat had failed to keep the drifter from getting wet didn't bother him. Instead, he observed the droplets smear the paper wishes that were hung on the tree.

'This year, I'm going to be a doctor.'

'Let's all solve world hunger!!! - Kav.'

'Here's to hoping I retire this year haha!'

'I'm going to graduate and live with my husband in Inazuma City.'

'I want to be loved.' 

'I WANT TO BE LOVED.'

The wanderer scoffed.

Such a simple yet difficult wish. 

"Loved in what way? Loved in reverence? Loved out of fear? Loved as a friend? Loved like how a mother would do so with her child?" He snatched the wish off the tree and squinted his eyes. 

"Loved as though you're someone's missing half?"

He scoffed and crumpled the soggy paper.

"Mortals. They can't be trusted to hold even an iota of freedom and independence. Always with the need to be shackled by shallow relations."

The wanderer may muse that out loud, but his entire being defied his proclamations.

What a hypocrite he is, spouting nonsense about relationships when he's here to rekindle something forgotten...

"H-Hey, you there! What on earth are you standing in the middle of the rain for? This is no time for sightseeing."

The wanderer flinched and his face lit up.

Wanderer was glad to hear that voice again.

He turned around, and he found you. You firmly held a red umbrella above your head as you stood beside him. Confused by his awfully timed contemplations, you gently grabbed his arm.

Huh... Why didn't he feel anything when you touched him?

"We need to get you under a roof, pronto," you implored. "That hat of yours isn't doing you any favors."

The wanderer made an effort not to look at the parasol. You didn't seem to be aware that the object you were holding contained some peculiar energy. He didn't say a word about how the eye in your red umbrella moved, hoping to amuse himself later once you worked it out.

He might use it to frighten you later. Irodori festivals feature a ton of yokai events, so it wouldn't harm to have you scream.

"Oh wow, really? I didn't notice," he snarled. "'Preciate your concern, but I don't care."

"Please?"

"Please, what?" He closed his eyes, restraining himself from making eye contact with your cursed parasol.

That yokai you're holding does feel special...

"Come with me?" You frowned. "The others are worried about you."

"Why do locals always love to prattle on such meaningless concerns."

"Haha," you sheepishly scratched your neck. "You know, you kind of remind me of my pen pal."

Finally. 

"If I remind you of a pen pal of yours, then you must have the mind of a worm."

"Hey—"

You stopped.

"... Oh... OH!!!"

He smirked.

"So it was y—"

"Believe what you want, worm."

"Oh, come on. The meaning behind that pen name was pretty neat, and I was—" 

"Not the brightest student in the Haravatat," the wanderer sighed. "At least you don't have an execrable lack of imagination, I'll acknowledge that much. If I handed that letter to Madam Faruzan, I imagine she would be distraught."

"You don't know that."

No, he does. But he also knows that Madam Faruzan praised the worm for their literacy on forgotten languages.

Vermiculus, meaning little larva or worm, and creatio, which doesn't take a genius to figure out it pertains to "creation."

"Do you even know who Madam Faruzan is?"

"Only whispers. As much as I want to write to her, I admit, I've never exchanged letters before you, so..."

So you don't know who she is after the revision?

Good. 

One less person to get in his way.

"A-Anyways, we ought to take shelter from the rain! Come on, already." 

With enough strength, you successfully sprint him out of the tanabata tree's shade. You were more focused on getting him out that the thought of checking for his pulse never occurred to you. 

You used to be sharper than that.

"Does a little rain make you upset? And here I thought worms like the rain for their moisture."

"S-Seriously?" You heaved, breathless. "Y-You're making jokes? And h-how are you not out of breath?"

Wanderer stayed quiet after that remark, emulating human breathing. 

You used to be acquainted with traveling, what happened to your stamina?

Wanderer's revision does not change the past entirely. It only erases this world's memory of him.

It does not make the dead come back to life.

"Stop."

"Hah?"

He seized the opportunity to check your pulse.

...

...

...

The wanderer tried not to look at y̶o̶u̶r̶ the parasol.

"(Y/n)."

"... Wait, how do you know my name?"

"I'm not talking to you," he gritted his teeth. "I'm talking to the kasa-obake."

He took the umbrella away from y̶o̶u̶r̶ the person's hand, his grip softening when he secured it.

"(Y/n)..."

The moving eye looked frightened.

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

"Have you heard about this story, Scara? In Inazuma, there was a woman who bought an umbrella from a shrine. One rainy day, she thought about using her umbrella, but then suddenly, she received a message informing her that her husband died in battle. She got sick and died in a few days to supposedly look for her lover in the afterlife. After that, people said the umbrella was cursed and the shrine maidens sealed it away."

"... Is that supposed to be an attempt at being scary?"

"Not really? I don't know. On nights like this, traveling with you can be deadly silent. I only wished to make it a bit more lively" you shrugged. "But you know, I think I get why I remembered that tale out of the blue."

"Sure, worm. Tell me about it when I'm not falling asleep."

"You don't need sleep, you're a puppet. Anyways, I think I shared that story 'cause I subconsciously realized I'm getting attached to you."

"What does that have to do with some umbrella yokai story?"

"I'm just saying that if you went through Dottore's plans and came out as a different person, I think I'd fall ill too."

"And die? And have your beloved worms claim your body?"

"Hmm, I suppose so, yes," you affirmed his disbelief casually. "Vermiculis Creatio. If I die, let them feast and claim my vessel as their own. My soul doesn't need my old body. Maybe you should make me a puppet like you, see what happens."

"Is that a promise?"

"If it'll make you less lonely and feel loved as a new Archon? Then yes,

it's a promise."

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

The wanderer grabbed the body's arm again.

"What are you doing? That hurt."

He dug his thumb deep within y̶o̶u̶r̶ the body's wrist.

Small insects.

Larva.

Worms.

The entire time, he was not speaking to (Y/n) (L/n).

He was speaking to their animated corpse.

Scaramouche grinned.

Perfect.

"W-Worms...?!"

"I'll be stealing this umbrella from you."

"Hold on- what?! Hold on, how did you tear through my skin like that, why are there worms inside my—"

"I'm not giving it back, so run away now."

"But—"

"This umbrella means a lot more to me than you. This umbrella has more life than you do." 

He pushed them aside.

"So why don't you bury yourself and claim their rotting body like the good little worm that you are?"

Scaramouche caressed the cursed parasol. His eyes were wide, unhinged, but there was no breathing heard amidst the strong rain. As the corpse ran afraid, he tenderly hugged the umbrella and whispered as though it had ears to listen to his madness.

He laughed manically, softly kissing its closed eye.

His true missing half is finally here, encircled by his arms.

"Don't worry, my (Y/n). I'll make you a worthy vessel that will never be defiled by worldly filth."

[radiowallet]

Home

Summary: Joel is shocked her words hurt as much as they do. Pairing: Joel Miller x Tess WC: 733 Warnings: 18+MDNI, Grief, child loss, descriptions of blood and wounds. Canonical type violence. A lot of purple prose. Angst. Character introspection out the wazoo. A/N: I don't know guys. I watch the episode. I journal. It's always a mess. I hit post. Honestly, I'm sorry.

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Gif by @viktorhargreeves

-----

That’s not my fucking home.

Joel is shocked her words hurt as much as they do. How deep they cut. They tear through blood and bone, carving out a space beneath his ribs where his heart still beats despite all efforts. He could have disagreed, denied, refused. But the damage was done. The pain was real.

When had her words become stronger than bullets? Sharper than steel? The horrid crack of fists against flesh? 

Was it before? Before all of this? Before truck batteries and ration cards and fireflies? Lost in the dark of that shitty apartment, cramped bodies and tangled limbs on a mattress not nearly big enough for two? Two people, trying to survive together but somehow apart? Tending wounds and sharing jokes; crapshoot whiskey passed back and forth as battle scars were spared in the smallest of increments. 

Or maybe it had happened in between. Lost in the sparse few moments where hope seemed like a plausible option. Not one he had been ready to entertain just yet, but an idea. One he could ruminate on when everything inevitably went to shit. Something to help sleep come a little easier, when the liquor ran dry and the oxy ran low.

Or had it been quicker than that? A flash and a crack, the site of her molted skin fused into his memory. Putrid shades of ultraviolet red spreading faster than it had any right. A ticking watch, meticulous and cruel, as it steadily took one more thing away from him.

He knows though, that it’s always been there. That potential for crudeness, that risk of pain, the fear of loss. It’s all too tight, a twenty year old memory sinking its teeth in him, blood stuck to his hands, soaked into this shirt, caked beneath his fingernails. He carries it with him, the weight of his daughter painted across his body, his arms so pathetically empty, her blood drying on his skin. 

He can feel it now. He always has and no matter how hard he scrubs, the stain is still there. The weight hangs heavy, too heavy, for something so distant. Yet there are days, more and more and more, he wishes he could look down at his hands, weathered and beaten and so very empty, and still see that sucky shock of black and red. 

He would beg for it if he had the words. 

Tess keeps talking. Of time, of the future, somehow hopeful in the face of her own shortcomings. Death waits at her door as she pushes away the man she refuses to call home, one single request parting her lips. She asks him one thing. This one thing and all he can say is no. 

No. 

He can’t be asked to do this again. To lose someone to this thing, this nightmare. Monsters in the night, shadows of horrors he can’t control. The kind that peel away his flesh and fill him with dread, with only his guilt to keep him company in that shitty apartment, on that tiny bed. 

Joel feels his lip tremble, his hands shake. Does he lean in? Step back? Does he run? Should he stay? 

There’s only one answer. One. 

And it still feels wrong. 

Or is it just that nothing can ever be right? 

There are no goodbyes. No confessions. Later Joel will say there was no time. The lie no worse than the truth; he didn’t have the words. Not then, not now. And as he ran, faster, faster still, Ellie at his heels and smoke in his lungs, he wonders what the price will be this time around. 

There’s no blood dripping down his arms. No marks to wear. No weight to carry. No stains to scrub clean. All he has are her words - cruel in the name of honesty - and in that moment he failed her. He flinched, in the face of her pain, at the beck of her call, refusing to say the thing he knew she could never ask. 

And so he plays them again and again. A staccato in his head, loud and sharp between his eardrums. He flinches every time, his eyes dry and his heart hard, testing the weight of those words on the breadth of his shoulders. Would he carry them for 20 years? One more scar, another stain? Is he strong enough for one more truth? One more failure?

She says it again. 

Home. 

It wasn’t hers. 

Joel wished he had disagreed.