#there’s guilt over not saving his family quick enough

[wildsaltair]

Maximus COULD have been boring. sometimes writing a character who is so good and upright and unshakably noble and honorable results in them being bland, uninteresting. but not Maximus

[catchastarorten]

—More than anything.

Pairing: Cho Sang-woo x lover!fem!reader

Summary: You had supported him through everything, but when you fell sick, he couldn't save you because of debt, so he participated in the games. The blood, the violence, it was all worth it because it was all for you, but he still couldn’t save you, even after winning.

Warnings: angst, illness, death, grief/loss, mentions of violence, guilt/sacrifice, emotional distress, Sang-woo won the games in this au, english isn't my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.9k

The first time you met Sang-woo, it was in the bustling hallways of Seoul National University, your books pressed against your chest as he nearly toppled over you in his haste. Apologies poured out of him, flustered but composed, but it was the soft smile that followed that made you pause. You didn’t know it then, but that clumsy encounter would change both of your lives forever.

From that moment, he had become everything to you. And soon enough, you realized you were everything to him too. Sang-woo was the kind of man who always seemed in control of himself. But with you, that cool demeanor softened. He would laugh more, touch your hand absentmindedly, watch you as if you were the only thing in the world worth looking at.

You supported each other through the tough years at university. His mind was brilliant—quick, sharp, and endlessly determined. It wasn’t hard to see why he was the pride of his family, the hope of his mother. He was going to do great things, you always believed that, and you reminded him every chance you got.

Sang-woo always spoke of a future where he’d be successful, where his mother would never have to work a day in her life again. And somewhere in that future—he said with a tentative smile—was you.

Years passed, and the challenges of adulthood crept in. Sang-woo’s ambitions, once so pure and noble, became entangled in desperation as he fell into debt. It started small—a few bad investments, a loan here and there, promises that he’d make it all back soon. But soon, the debts piled into something worse, a mess that loomed over both of your lives.

He had so much promise, so much potential, and you wanted to see him succeed. So when he started to falter—when the world wasn’t as kind, when the debts began to gather up, and his once-unshakable confidence began to fracture—you did what you thought any partner would do. You helped him.

You saw the way the guilt ate away at him. He tried to hide it, but you knew him too well.

“I’ll pay off this part for now,” you’d told him gently, holding the bank statement in your hand. He had stared at you, his expression tight, his hands gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white.

“No,” he had said firmly. “You’ve done enough. I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.”

But you didn’t care about that. You knew he felt ashamed, that his pride was bleeding, but you loved him too much to let him drown. “Sang-woo,” you whispered, reaching out to place your hand over his. “I’m doing this because I want to. Because I believe in you.”

He looked at you like you were his lifeline, the only light in his darkening world. He kissed your hand and said nothing more, but no matter how much you reassured him, the guilt lingered. He began to withdraw, the weight of his mistakes crushed him.

Then, as if the universe wasn’t cruel enough, you fell ill. It started with fatigue and a persistent ache in your chest. You brushed it off at first, telling yourself that it was just stress, but when the symptoms worsened, you finally went to the hospital.

The diagnosis was a gut punch. The doctors spoke in clinical terms, but all Sang-woo heard at the moment was that it was serious. You needed treatment, the treatment was possible, but expensive.

The hospital bills mounted quickly. You had always lived sparingly, but this was different. The treatment you needed was far beyond what either of you could afford, especially with Sang-woo already drowning in debt. You had tried to remain strong, tried to reassure him even when your body weakened and the days became harder to endure.

But Sang-woo wasn’t strong. At least not in the way you were. He didn't want to put up the pretense of having a "perfect" reputation anymore, he just wanted you.

One night, as you lay in your hospital bed, pale and shivering despite the blankets covering you, he dropped to his knees beside you. He gripped your hand so tightly it hurt, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking.

“I’ll get the money,” he said, his voice trembling with determination. “I’ll find a way. I promise.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time, you saw the man you loved falling apart. His face was gaunt, his eyes bloodshot, guilt and desperation consuming him.

“Sang-woo,” you whispered, your heart breaking for him. For both of you. “I’ll be okay... don’t do anything reckless.”

But he shook his head, his jaw set in that stubborn way you’d come to know so well. He pressed his lips to your forehead, a lingering, desperate kiss.

“I’ll come back,” he said. “With the money. Just hold on for me.”

You wanted to believe him, but as you watched him walk away, a part of you knew that he was heading down a dangerous path.

At first, you tried to think light. You thought he had simply left to clear his head. Maybe he was meeting someone to talk about loans or some other last-ditch effort to save you. But then the days turned into weeks, and Sang-woo didn’t return.

You tried calling him, but his phone went unanswered. You asked the nurses, his mother, even some of his old university friends, but no one had seen him. You didn’t know whether to be angry, scared, or heartbroken. All you knew was that he wasn’t here, and you were running out of time.

The nurses came and went, offering kind smiles and gentle reassurances, but it wasn’t enough. What you needed—what you wanted—was him, by your side.

You missed his voice, his laugh, the way he’d hold your hand and promise you that everything would be okay. You told yourself that he was out there fighting for you, but as the days stretched on, doubt began to creep in.

In your quieter moments, you wondered if he’d given up on you. If the burden had become too much and he just left without a trace. But deep down, you knew Sang-woo. You knew how much he loved you, how determined he could be. He’d find a way back to you. He had to.

In your final days, you thought about him often. You tried to convince yourself that he had a plan, that he would come rushing through the hospital doors at any moment with that look on his face, telling you everything was going to be okay, that you could heal properly now. But he didn’t.

Instead, you were left with an empty chair by your bedside, your heart aching with the absence of the man you loved more than anything in the world.

On the last night, you couldn’t fight the tears anymore. You whispered into the quiet room—“I just wish you were here.” Your voice cracked, and you closed your eyes, letting the exhaustion finally take over. You dreamed of him one last time—of the way he smiled when you first met, of his hand in yours, of the warmth that had once filled your life.

What you didn’t know—what you couldn’t know—was what Sang-woo was enduring.

He had entered the games through a salesman with a suitcase and a card with a number on the back. The games were a deadly competition where the stakes were higher than anything he’d ever faced. Life and death were decided in brutal, messed up versions of childhood games.

At first, he told himself he was doing it for you, for the money that could save your life. But as the games progressed, as blood stained his hands and the faces of those he’d sacrificed haunted his dreams, the lines began to blur.

How much of himself was he willing to lose to save you?

Every decision, every betrayal he made, weighed on him. He thought of you constantly, your smile a light in the darkness. When he felt the weight of his actions crushing him, he clung to the hope that he could still save you. That he could win, come back to you, and make everything right, no matter how exhausted he was, no matter how much pain he had to endure, it was all for you. Because how could he call himself a man—your man—if he couldn't even keep you by his side? If he couldn't even get the money to save you and have you in his arms again, healthy and full of life?

When Sang-woo finally emerged from the games, clutching the blood money that was counted from each of the lifeless bodies of the other players, he felt hollow. His actions, the lives he’d taken, the people he’d betrayed—all of it threatened to suffocate him. But he pushed it aside. None of it mattered now. All that mattered was you.

He rushed to the hospital, his heart pounding in his chest. He imagined the look on your face when he walked through the door, how you’d smile and tell him that he’d always been your hero. And for the first time since the games, he smiled. He smiled.

But when he reached your room, he froze, and everything inside him seemed to shatter.

You were still, too still. Your chest didn't rise or fall, your lips were pale, and your eyes—those eyes he had loved so much—were closed forever.

The nurse had pity in her eyes as she approached him. "I'm sorry... she passed away a few hours prior. We... we tried calling you, but..."

“No,” he choked out, he staggered to your bedside, falling to his knees onto the mattress of the bed, his hands reaching for you. “No, no, no… please, no…”

He pulled you into his arms, cradling your lifeless body as tears streamed down his face. “Wake up,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Please, wake up. I have the money now. I did it. I got it for you. You can get better now. Please, just… open your eyes.”

But you didn't. You couldn't.

“I got the money,” he whispered, tears falling from his eyes. “I have it. We can pay for your treatment now. You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay…”

Sang-woo's hand trembled as he cupped your face. Your skin was cold to the touch, a stark contrast to the warmth he remembered. He pressed his forehead to yours, the card that contained all the prize money laid forgotten on the floor, a cruel reminder of what he had to sacrifice to save you—of the blood, the death, and the lives he had destroyed in those games. He had told himself it was all for you, that he could endure anything if it meant seeing you smile again. But now, as he held your cold body in his arms, he realized it had all been for nothing.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve been here. I should’ve stayed with you. I thought… I thought I could save you.”

He had done everything he could to save you, but in the end, it wasn’t enough. And now, he was left with nothing, because you had been his everything.

[illyrian-dreamer]

And Then There Were None – Part 1

Azriel/fem!reader

Synopsis: In the lead up to the war, Hybern releases a catastrophic spell that wipes out all humans, sparing just one.

Abandoned in the desolate human lands, you scavenge to survive long enough to find your family.

Reluctantly, you are found by the Shadowsinger as fate intervenes to guide you under his watchful eye.

Part 2>>>

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Death, blood, suggestions of miscarriage

Twigs snapped beneath your boots, your steps heavy with exhaustion as you stumbled through yet another town, as barren and deserted as the last one. 

Exhaustion and dehydration weighed heavy, wisps of dust caking your skirts, your boots the only thing to disturb the rubble in days. 

There was no concern for a carriage that might pull up behind, or a bossy merchant to yell at you to clear the path. While the ghosts of the life that once flourished echoed in closed shops and abandoned stalls, you stopped looking over your back days ago.

There were no plumes of smoke from chimneys, no distant chatter or laughter or cries. Safe from the occasional grunts or mews of abandoned cattle - there was not a single sign of life, and no human in sight for the past ten days.

A jarring cramp ripped from your abdomen, pulling you from delirium with urgency.

Water, food, bathe and sleep. That was why you were here.

You tried not to think about how quickly resources were depleting, even though you were sure you were the only one using them. Without people to treat water, the stagnant liquid became increasingly dangerous. And you couldn’t farm a vegetable to save your life, and had spent too long journeying to have tended to any crops.

You’d have to go further into the woods soon, find a fresh stream, perhaps hunt too. But you'd need strength for that, and you had just about run out.

At least it was spring, and at least the trees bloomed with fruit as you travelled from town to town, feet blistered and chapped. You cursed you parents for not teaching you formidable survival skills - fighting, hunting, even the ability to ride a gods damned horse would have been an incomparable luxury these past hellish days. 

A clang of guilt, and frustration quickly churned to longing. Gods, you hoped they were alive. You would do anything to have them here, to journey this devastating isolation together, the little ones too. You prayed to the Mother for the umpteenth time that day that they were safe and well. 

It was not a concern when you woke to an empty house almost a fortnight earlier. Your father was likely at the market, your mother hard at work at the tailor in town. Your siblings were hard to catch at this time of year, with school out of term and the warm spring air, they would spend each waking moment by the river if your parents let them. 

It wasn't until you spotted your fathers wheelbarrow through the speckled glass of your kitchen window, held by rotting wood. Empty and unmoved, his tools lay flat on the ground, untouched since the day before. You could have sworn he told you he’d be at the market by dawn. 

Scanning the room, your eyes flicked to the doorway where your mothers workbag lay untouched. Needles sat poked in balls of yarn as stray thread sprawled over leather - but an eery stillness sang to you at your parent’s tools. 

Names and calls went unanswered, and after a quick search of the home you ran outside, urgent to ask your neighbours where they had gone, your heart fastening with every step.

Too frantic to observe the lack of movement and noise from your own street, you rapped on the door, waiting only a few seconds to push the rattling screen and forcing your way in.

Names went unanswered again, and it was instinct that steered you straight for the nursery. You halted at the sight of new born's empty crib, blankets rippled as if the babe was taken straight from it’s sleep.

Your calls turned frantic as you scoured each room, an upsetting, looming sensation creeping over your skin.

Bursting from the home, you shielded your eyes from the bright sun as you scanned the street with urgency. Your only greeting was a quiet breeze and snort of a horse left abandoned by a cart - as if it had stopped it's journey halfway through.

In a panicked haze, you searched the next home, and the next, and the next. The dizziness found you then. 

Clearly there was an emergency of some kind. But you had been abandoned, left to sleep until midday amongst the quiet. The thought pained you.

More calls to anyone who might have stayed behind, yet still no answer. Your heart was a thunder in your ears. 

Had the war finally reached you? Had your family fled in the dead of the night? You shook the thought from your head – they would have woken you, would have needed your help to escape with the youngens.

And then you were running – yelling, sprinting through the dusty streets, voice breaking as you dashed from home to home, shop to shop, calling, crying, pleading.

You were utterly alone. You had been left there, alone. 

In a swarm of panic, you pressed a palm at your heart, willing yourself to calm. It was a dream, surely. You were not abandoned, only stuck in a nightmare, the kind that often found you as murmurs of Hybern’s army reaching human lands became louder. 

In that dizzying thought, you willed yourself awake, forcing your eyes open to the walls of your dark and cramped room, to the noises as your siblings shouting and playing from downstairs, to the whistle of the kettle and the creak of the wood as your father came to wake you.

But the light was blinding, the sun as true as the your abandonment.

Beads of sweat that ran down your neck, a gnawing anxiousness building in your stomach as it heaved and cramped, nausea and panic churning to one. 

Something truly terrible had happened.

And in that moment of utter disbelief, a stabbing pain ripped from your stomach, so great it forced a whimper from your throat. 

As silent trickles of blood ran from your thighs to your knees, tracing your calves beneath the fabric of your skirt, you found a numbing sort of courage. Pushing your legs forward, you mindlessly heeded the road out of your home town, and on to the next. 

People. You needed to find people.

————

Ten days, and still not a single sole in sight. Each home, each tavern, each market and farm left eerily untouched. 

The silence was enough to drive you mad, if not besides the aide you so desperately sought. This was not your cycle - although the pains were familiar. You had known what you were, what this was.

Almost a fortnight, yet the blood still came. Slower now, spotting instead of trickles. You had stolen clothing from abandoned shops, food and water too. But you were distraught, moments away from folding into utter madness. And you were weak – very, very weak.

Water, food, a bath and rest. A list you repeated to yourself, your body begging to prioritise sleep with every step as you approached a farm at the town’s edge.

With a weak hand, you pushed past the gate to the yard, large rusty barrels sat open where a cow and her calf now drank. The water was murky with a distinct smell, but it would have to do. Tomorrow, you’d find fresh water tomorrow.

The trembling hand that dipped to the cool water hardly looked like your own. Dirt lay thick under your nails, your skin littered with cuts from the countless times you had shattered windows of stores and traders homes, scouring the stock for preserved goods and weapons. 

Bringing the cool liquid to your lips, you ignored the taste of iron as you willed it to soothe your throat - hoarse from the endless calls that went unanswered.

Ears pricking at sudden growl behind you, you jerked at the site of a pack of dogs who approached on stealthy paws. Their eyes were hungry - flicking between you and the calf. Once loyal farming dogs you were sure, now abandoned by owners and left to fend for themselves. They had formed packs - clever things. While you were sure they couldn't kill you, you didn't have the strength to fight an infection if they got close enough to sink their teeth. 

From your side, you unsheathed the hunting knife you had looted from a previous town. Swinging it with unpracticed skill, you shouted at the pack, your heart thundering as you waited for them to recline on hindered paws and leap. 

They pack seemed to weigh you up, deciding the calf was an easier target. You fled inside the house before you could see it meet it’s end. 

The home was neat, and you almost cried at the sight of a loaf of bread sitting atop the kitchen counters. Mould had attacked it’s edges, but you tore at it, fisting mouthfuls of the centre, dry crumbs coating your throat it was an effort not to choke.

Your stomach lurched, unhappy with the quality of the food and water, but you didn't care. You were on step closer to rest.

Another jarring cramp from your stomach, and you faltered, gripping at the wooden table as you trembled to keep yourself upright. This ailment, how much longer would you last? Sleep begged at you, your body moments from giving out. You’d have to forgo the bath, and prayed to the mother you’d find the strength for it in the morning.

Forcing yourself to the bedroom, swaying with each stumbled step, consciousness was already slipping as you collapsed on the bed, clothes and boots in tact. 

————

It was a feverish sleep, your body doused in sweat as you stirred often, jolting awake in panics, phantom calls of your family mixed with the flap of wings, and the crunch of stone and rock under heavy boots.

Then a voice, voices – ones you were sure they were part of your slumber. 

But as those footsteps got closer, you woke in a startle, your heart fastened as you blinked furiously. 

Voices. Humans. People. Alive, well enough to talk. 

You leapt from the bed, ignoring the spin of your head as you clambered to the window, peering behind sheer drapes to the street in front.

Your stomach sank. Lurched. Then sank again. 

A large, demonic figure stalked for the home. Wings arched behind it’s head, it’s figure blackened by the leathers it bore, sword and knives strapped around. 

And, wisps of some kind. Deadly, reaping magic.

Fae.

Fae had come. 

Knees buckling, you stumbled back a few steps. 

The world around you reeled as adrenaline coursed through. You would have just moments to prepare if you wanted a chance to survive. 

Knife. Your hunting knife. Still strewn at your hip.

Grasping it’s hilt tightly with a trembling hand, you scanned the room for the best place to hide. 

The cupboard was too obvious, and there was room under the bed - but there’d be not enough to swing your knife, only enough for them to drag you by the ankle… 

The gentle click of the front door opening, and it took all you had not to whimper in panic.

Scrambling for the door as quietly as possible, you pressed your palm to your mouth, begging yourself not to cry as you pressed yourself behind the wood.

From what you could hear over the thunder of your heart, the steps of the fae were quiet despite it’s size. 

“Anything in there?” a deep voice boomed from the street. You jolted at the volume. More than one, then.

There was no reply from the creature in the home, only the creak of the wood as it made it’s way through. 

“Really, Azriel? Are we to check every home?” Female this time, impatience and ignorance laced in the somehow ancient voice.

No response again, instead a footstep, right by the door.

Something tickled your ankles then, and it was beyond you to stifle your compulsive scream. 

Black furling wisps coated your boots.

And then the door opened.

The creature made it one step inside before you had aimed your knife for it’s heart. 

A prepared, cool hand caught your wrist inches from it’s chest. Your bones crushing in it’s grasp, and you let out a yelp of pain. 

It’s face - his face - was one of shock. “S-sorry,” he stuttered, dropping his grip all together. 

You blinked back in shock, ignoring at the throb of your wrist as you snatched it back. 

For a dumb moment, you stared at each other with equally wide eyes. The male didn't seem to know what to do. 

“You’re human? How are you here, where-?"

The males sentence was clipped short as you drove the knife towards his chest again. 

Quick as an asp, he caught you by the forearm this time, more gently too. 

Hazel eyes scanned you, his features schooling as he called over his shoulder. “I’ve found someone.”

You were sure you looked mad, grunting with the effort to pull your arm from him, breaths ragged, eyes and hair wild. The male studied you as he might a rabid animal. 

Behind him appeared an even taller male, his form more terrifying than the one that gripped you. 

“Mother above,” the new one whispered, scanning you in the way the first one had. 

“L-let go of me,” you rasped, pulling your arm back, tears stinging at the pain of you surely broken wrist began to swell. 

It was a odd detail to note, the scars and ripples of the fae’s hand as he gently unfurled your fingers, prying the hunting knife from you before releasing his grip. 

“Let me see,” the female’s voice piped from behind, the males struggling to fold their wings further, cramming into the room to let her through. 

You faltered back on instinct, legs hitting the edge of the bed. 

As the female broke through the males, harsh silver eyes scanned you up and down. She was half their height, a little shorter than you actually, but the depth of her gaze kept your hands by your side.

“Seems the Mother has spared one after all,” she muttered, nose crumpling at your scent. 

Your answered with a scowl. 

“What is your name?” it demanded. 

“Amren,” the taller male warned, his eyes flicking back to you with softness. 

You refused to answer. Couldn’t if you wanted to. 

Amren sighed, casting her head sideways to the one with rippled hands. “She bleeds.”

“I know,” he answered, hazel eyes not breaking from you. You blushed, furious and humiliated. 

He stepped around her then, the movement graceful and soft despite his size. 

“You need aide.”

You gulped, unable to process his words. “L-leave me be,” you demanded, voice hoarse as you tried to create more distance between you and it. 

He crouched in front of you then, leathers stretching against ripples of muscle. You noticed them then, jewels, saphires, humming from his body as if they were alive.

He followed your eyes curiously, before answering you with a soft smile. 

“These are siphons,” he said plainly, giving one a friendly tap. 

You snapped your eyes back to him, disgust forming your features. “You are here on behalf of Hybern?”

The female snorted from behind, earning a shove from the larger male beside her, his siphons glowing red.

The one in front of you studied you. “No, absolutely not.” 

You scowled, not inclined to believe them. 

“We come one behalf of our High Lord Rhysand, and High Lady Feyre. Rulers of the Night Court. Do you know of them?”

Feyre - the human women who had freed the fae from the grasp of their enemy. You knew the story, the heroic tale of a human women who gave her life for the male she loved. Had heard of her triumphs Under the Mountain, that she had been made into fae herself in exchange for her sacrifice. 

“The-the curse breaker?”

A small smile cocked on both of the males faces. 

“That’s right,” the one crouched in front answered. “She sent us to retrieve you.”

A panic surged within you. “Me?” you spat. Oh the ignorance of the fae, as if you were some pawn to pluck and place elsewhere. 

Azriel frowned, eyes dancing as he realised the mistake in his words. “To help you, of course. There has been-"

"No-n-no. My family, they will seek for me-"

Azriel's brow pulled with softness, his tone falling flat. "We will search for them. Meanwhile, you must see a-"

“Where are the others?” Your voice was louder now, eyes dancing in panic, chest rising with fastening breaths. Had they taken them too? “The people, they've left, I don't know-"

“We are searching for others. You are… the first we have found.”

Your mind reeled. How could that be? You had searched by foot - but with those wings, and the strength and power of fae…

“WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THE OTHER HUMANS?” the volume of your voice shocked even yourself, that strength, that demand from deep within your chest. 

Azriel gave you a pained look, before standing to turn to his counterparts. “Amren, can you heal-?”

“I’m spent,” she cut off the male with a flick of her fingers. “Those canines out back were hardly enough to keep me going until sundown, so forget about healing. Unless you suggest I drink her blood, though I doubt she’d survive.”

Mother above.

You were too hazed to see the glare both of the males cut her.

“Then she will need to see a healer before we can continue.”

“She might refuse,” the larger one countered. 

“If she’s smart, she won’t. She won't survive out here on her own,” Amren muttered, cleaning her nails as she leaned one on leg, checking her cat-like claws for flecks of blood. 

They continued their mutter without once turning to you.

“There is no option here. I’ll take her to Velaris, and return once she’s safe.”

A shaking, blubbering anger grew within you, the creatures in front of you as ignorant and obnoxious as you had always been told fae are – to discuss your own fate as if you weren't in the room.

A killer instinct flared in you then, and you remembered the second knife you bore, hidden within your corsette. A pocket knife, a tool from your father to help pit and peel the fruit from his farm. 

The oak handle was cool in your left hand, the right throbbing and limp. With the last remains of energy,  you pushed up from the bed, swinging with all your strength - aiming for the blue-siphoned back. 

In a graceful turn, the male caught your arm for the third time. You had to blink at the speed with which he stopped you. 

Bracing for cruel, unforgiving anger, you were instead met with sympathetic eyes. 

Loathing coiled within you. 

“Release me,” you spat.

“I’m sorry to do this,” was all he said, and then pads of those rippled fingers were grasping your jaw, pressing to the pressure points of your neck with precision. 

Grunting to fight his grasp, you didn’t struggle long before a ringing in your ear grew to defeating silence and the world tipped to black. 

Part 2 >>> AN: HELLLOOO! And welcome to ATTWN - massive shout out to @kindasleepywriter for finding the perfect name for this series! I so so hoped you liked part 1. I edited it like a million times, still not 100% happy with it, but I think I just needed to get it out. Fair warning - this fic won't be light hearted, our reader is going to go through some really heavy stuff. I'll of course put my warnings ahead of each part, but please know I plan to explore some darker themes surrounding mental health etc. If you'd like to join the tag list for this fic, let me know in the comments! Always love hearing your feedback, and thank you so much for reading! <3 Nic

[goaskangel]

dad's bestfriend!nanami x reader

a/n...had really good ideas 4 this and it kinda WORKED OUT??? i fu want more lmk!! im a sucker for older dudes (and ONLy them) nanami will save us all EEK. also i see hiromi as y/n's father, that's what i had in mind writing this!!! THIS HAS SLIGHT CORRUPTION STUFF, LIL GUILT STUFF, LOTS OF KISSIINGGG

you usually paid no mind to the people your father brought over. mostly colleagues or just a few friends to drink and converse with in your shared apartment. one friend he’d seem to bring over a lot had caught your eye. as if his ever-changing ties and snug khakis weren’t enough to make you grin, his mannerism was much too attractive. greeting you respectfully, listening and chuckling to your rare comments and jokes to their discussion over drinks in the kitchen. getting comfortable to just speak to you while your dad’s out or busy with something, always listening with intent. 

it’s so sexy, you think, your hands up to your face as you lay to your side in bed. dreaming conscious thoughts of what his big hands would feel like on you, or the same breath he smokes out against your neck. your guilt no longer dragging you down after all this time. 

once, you sit close to him, smiling and trying to make your staring of his ringless finger unnoticeable. he wonders, aloud, how don’t you have a boyfriend? you shrug, “jus’ not very interested.” you smile when he chuckles, most likely at your thought process. part of you hopes he doesn’t ask what you're looking for because you’d go straight to overworked suited-men. skip over the blonde and big traits just to seem more vague. of course you were interested, you were interested the moment he mentioned he had no family. no wife, no kids. just focused on his work and drinks, a few cigars and baked goods. the absence of your father to run a quick errand wasn’t helping, your eyes zigzagged down his undone tie and exposed blue button-up, his blazer down beside him. you’d thought about taking the garment or increasing the loft’s heater just to see him get all worked up and hot but being this close to him gave you the same thrill. the topic of marriage came up.

“you shouldn’t wait too long, i waited too long.” he says with sincerity. 

“hehe. with all truth, mister, i think you’re doing it on purpose. you are handsome.”

he sits up at the title, a confused smile at his face, “yeah? i could say the same thing about you, pretty.”

god, if you were any worse, the first time he’d use that petname you would’ve pounced on him sooner. “dad says guys my age are after one thing and i agree. you wouldn’t disagree with my dad, would you?” your head tilts and waits for a response to your bratty remark. “well, i suppose your father knows a thing or two.” he nods, crossing his arms. your eyes trail again, watching the toned muscle flex casually against his rolled sleeve. you swallow the pool of spit in your mouth. 

“he’s strict, though. haven’t you noticed?” you get up from your seat and walk to pour yourself another glass of water, “doesn’t ever let me have anybody over.” 

“uh-huh.” his brown eyes stare at you intently to understand your point. 

“it gets lonely, mister.” instead of sitting back down, you stand right in front of him. placing your glass on the glass table. his arms now rest out on the table as he traces delicate circles on the rim of his half empty cup of whiskey. “i obviously can’t tell my dad that so i’m telling you and i just know you’d understand.” your hand rests atop his and slowly curls under his big palm.

he clears his throat of the sudden nervousness, “well, yes. i know that feeling all too well.” you hum a response when he turns his body to face you better. you mumble gently, “my dad won’t be home.” your hand squeezes him tighter. you notice how his brows furrow just the slightest bit as he lowers his head down, letting out a small sigh. but he doesn’t oppose it. doesn’t move when you lead his hand down to your hip, the tips of his fingers riding up your shirt. so pliable, his other resting hand now being guided up, up, up your shirt. his warm palm against your much softer skin. “won’t tell anyone, nanami.” 

his breathing is shaky and his eyes seem to have gotten heavier, but he scoots almost off the seat, to get closer. his vision glued onto the bump of where his hand is underneath your shirt, beneath the wire of your bra. 

“i’ll let you do anything you want to me.” fucking hell, you made this so fucking hard. 

“you’re damn irresistible.” he slurs through his teeth, swearing to himself that his mouth dried when you gripped his hand to squeeze the fat beneath your breasts. you feel dizzy, so good that he’s not resisting, that he can’t resist. he kneads and gropes the side of your hips and thighs, getting closer to your ass. impatiently, he stands and manhandles you closer to his bigger frame. you hear how his breathing’s stabilized but heavier, his expensive cologne finally hitting you when you lean up against his neck. he damn near groans when he gets his hands on you properly. dragging his hands on your back, pushing your body right against his much warmer one. your knees grow weak, if his grasp was any looser, you could’ve collapsed right on him. you take your arms and wrap them firmly against his broad shoulders and thick neck, moaning quietly against the veins under his ear. he feels his khakis getting tighter with every breath you take. a smile grows against your cheeks when you feel the slight stubble at his jaw, you kiss at it. 

still moaning between kitten licks against his mature skin, he turns to press his lips to yours. quick little pecks between breaths, he savors each one and quickly returns for more. the sour taste of his bitter whiskey intoxicating you from his much sweeter mouth.

“been..wanting..this..nana–mi..!” you can’t contain your grown obsession to which he shushes you. nodding slowly against your mouth while he keeps your head in place. when you pull away, you take his hands and lead him into your open bedroom. the idea of your father coming home slowly fading the closer you got what you wanted. you got so eager when he sat you on the edge of your bed, standing between your hanging legs. your hands wanting to hold onto his belt, to slowly unbuckle it but he caught them beforehand, kissing and sucking on your soft wrists and forearms. his lips find their way to your neck and ear where he whispers. 

“it's wrong, i know. so, so wrong, but my god…” he holds onto your neck and carefully grinds himself into your clothed cunt, making you arch your back and buck your hips into him, whining. you could cry from all the teasing he’s doing. “shouldn’t be doing this, sweetheart…dad can’t know, okay?” he keeps his now firm bulge against you. you moan another cry and kiss him again a bunch, nodding, rubbing tongues and messing up the gel in his blonde hair. the very open door reveals the sound of clinking keys and chains, doors opening and closing. too dizzy and much too dazed to even frown, you just stare into his soft brown eyes. they get farther away as he gently lets you go, kissing your temple for good measure before heading to the bathroom, leaving you with shaking legs. hopefully his plans of staying over stays the case.

masterlist

[the-artist-grimm]

Crimson Angel AU - The Three Remaining Crown Bearers

(Text updated as of Nov 8th, 2024)

More Crimson Angel Lore! This time thinking about some of the previous/current vessels.

(credit to @/waokevale for the inspo! Its from their posts head-cannoning Forneus as a former crown bearer where I got the idea to have her in the lineup!)

Over the course of 1000 years Narinder had in total 13 vessels who bore the red crown, and each were chosen upon their deaths for displaying potential upon arrival into the Gateway. Though the prophecy stated that a lamb would be the final bearer, Narinder did not want to sit idle, and had hoped that others could clear a quicker path for the chosen liberator while he waited. 

Currently named bearers (featuring my SYMBOLISM obsession, deaths/numbers are somewhat related to the character as closely as I manage) 

Forneus - #7 (Lady Luck)

The 7th bearer of the Red Crown, and bared it approximately 300 years ago. Captured by heretics after drawing their attention away from a family in trouble whilst on the road, Forneus caught Narinder’s attention for both her fighting prowess and fierce sense of justice, and proved to be one of his more efficient vessels. Quick-witted and clever, she was a seemingly kind leader to her cult, but a ruthless warrior to all others, with her mission being to decimate the Bishops’ higher-ranking witnesses as opposed to taking them on personally. She also appeared to possess a remarkable amount of luck, hardly ever dying whilst on crusades. Yet despite that her term as vessel only lasted approximately 80 years, whereupon finding herself pregnant via one of her lovers, she willingly relinquished the crown so that she could raise her children in peace, not wanting to put them at risk.

Narinder, though somewhat irked, accepted her choice, as she’d managed to kill enough witnesses to set the Bishops internal hierarchies back by several decades of experience. Unbeknownst to him, however, the very children Forneus relinquished the crown for would join him not long after, with the cat herself being bestowed a golden skull and an open promise of reunion with her children in the distant future by the God of Wisdom and War. 

Forneus died of her heart-in saving those sheep, her heart was cut out during her sacrifice 

7 is considered a lucky number

The Chariot is the 7th Tarot Card, representing triumph through determination, self-control, and overcoming obstacles.

Became vessel at approximately age 20, is now over 400 years old

Ratau- #12 (The Shepherd)

The 12th bearer of the Red Crown, and bared it approximately over 40 years ago. Killed by heretics after refusing to acknowledge the threat they posed to all within the Lands of the Old Faith. Hailing from a village that willfully ignored the lambs and their warnings of slaughter, it was not until heretics arrived to razed the place to the ground that Ratau realized their threat, yet by then it was too late to act as he was slain. Upon his arrival in the gateway Narinder initially had no plans to make him a vessel, yet the rat’s anger towards both himself and the Bishops appeared to make him an easily manipulated enough target to try. And with the dwindling lamb’s population heralding the final liberator’s rise, the death god was desperate to have a vessel prepared to take on the role of mentor. 

Though a remarkably fast learner, Ratau proved inadequate in regards to his ruthlessness, unwilling to push his followers or himself to their limits. And upon being forced to sacrifice a follower following an incident with a mysterious fox, the resulting guilt led to Ratau relinquishing the crown within only a decade, much to Narinder’s frustration. He left the grounds with his disciples and isolated himself to a self-imposed solitude within the woods, only ever visiting his friends from time to time and trying to put his previous cult-life behind him. 

Yet as fate would have it, twenty years later Ratau would chance across a young, newly orphaned lamb within the woods, and though aware of the prophesied fate ahead of them, decided to take the little one in. Fourteen years later, that little lamb would rise as the final vessel.

Ratau died for turning a blind eye to the world around him, and thus, lost his left eye in turn. It was a slash and a stab through which killed him 

12 is considered a number of stability and order, fitting for a mentor

The Hanged Man is the 12th Tarot Card, representing ultimate surrender, sacrifice, and patience.

Became a vessel at age 25, is currently in his mid 60s.

Anthea- #13 (The Lamb/Unlucky Thirteen)

The 13th and final bearer of the Red Crown. Anthea was killed by heretics upon sacrificing herself to save the life of her guardian, Ratau, and had been a willing sacrifice due to a belief that she already lived on borrowed time. Of all prior vessels Anthea was the only one to have worshiped The One Who Waits prior to resurrection and vesselship, and proved to not only be highly devoted, but also far more empathetic and aware of his situation beyond those who came before them. When it came to their interactions with the god, Anthea often expressed a kindness to not just him but his typically overlooked disciples as well, bring them gifts and befriending the three to try and ease their imprisonments. Though coming from a genuine place of care, it was also born from Anthea’s own lack of self, with the lamb preferring to put everyone but themself first. 

It was through aiding The One Who Waits that Anthea’s perspective of self began to change, as Narinder slowly began to challenge their self-sacrificial tendencies the more he got to know them, with the two growing closer and eventually falling in love. Yet it was right before Anthea planned to confess her feelings that The One Who Waits seemingly betrayed them, ordering them to sacrifice themself just as they finally started wanting to live. 

Anthea died for being unable to express their own will beyond giving themself up for others, sticking their neck out so long as it mean someone else benefited from it. Their death was via beheading. 

13 is considered a number of bad luck, yet also of the ending of one cycle and the beginning of another, a transformation 

Death is the 13th Tarot Card, and represents the ending of one phase of a life and the start of another, change, and new beginnings.

Became vessel at age 26, and finished slaying all the bishops in 3 years, making them 29

Trying to go through and whip the game’s admittedly open-ended-ish/slightly vague lore into something more fleshed-out is really fun lol. Might make more vessels but thus far the only three who remain are 7, 12, and 13-which Narinder doesn't even realize that Forneus is till kicking about.

Also Weapons notes!

Forneus gets a hammer because it in a way represents justice (see a court gavel) and though it hits slow it hits HARD. In an RPG its the tank who usually gets it within the party.

Ratau I gave a staff since he's implied to be somewhat cowardly, or at least appears to not like killing to an extent with how he gave up the crown after sacrificing a follower, and since he gives us the curses in-game (yeah they're on Nari's orders but Ratau's the one handing them out), essentially making him a mage seemed fitting-plus in fantasy the mage is usually a mentor. He also has a staff in-game so it maintains that silhouette, albeit I made this one look more like a shepherd's hook considering it's meant to be his weapon as a cult leader.

Anthea, the Lamb, I gave a sword since it's the weapon of a knight in shinning armor, since their personality is that of someone always saving others after all.

And lastly a little doodle of everyone's death scars!

(Also if anyone wants to send asks about the AU or to the characters go ahead hehehe, this AU is taking over my life :3 )

Boarders are by @lambouillet

[one-chaotic-neautral]

There's a whole bunch of things I gotta say Abt act 3 that I don't have time to, but my god the SYMBOLISM, so I'm just gonna do the couple of obvious ones that stuck out to me.

Spoiler warning ofc.

In ep7 when jayce was in the pit, he broke his leg and used the design for viktors leg brace (which he knew well enough to recreate, the two likely worked on it together in the past which I love) and then painstakingly climbs out. He's in the undercity at the time.

The whole sequence, due to him wearing the leg brace, is very unsubtly a parallel to Viktors journey of metaphorically crawling his way up out of Zaun and into Piltover. Which is to be assumed as his backstory before meeting Jayce, and was probably still something he felt like he was doing his whole life.

(Also hallucinating both Mel and Viktor in the same place is very bisexual behavior Jayce. and adds to the parallels between Mel and Viktor, they're both mages that go through physical transformation this season, and whole bunch of other scene parallels)

In ep 9, during their little gay transcendence scene he basically tells Viktor he's perfect, that he admired everything about him and that his leg and his illness were never flaws etc. Last season also ended with Silco telling Jinx she's perfect.

Which I think its neat we got that happening at the end of both seasons, in a show where identity is so important, (and toward two of the main physically and mentally disabled characters specifically). Personally I loved Jayce including Viktors leg as being a part of him and therefore something he loved as well, that he never needed to feel ashamed about

Again in ep 9 at the end, when Vi is holding Jinx and Warwick over the ledge. This kinda parallels s1 act 1. (With the obvious first scene of teen and tween Vi and powder on the roof in piltover, where Powder falls but Vi is there to pull her back up)

Vi wanting to save Vander, Jinx trying to save Vi when that goes wrong. Now Jinx is hanging there with the literal weight of her dead family weighing her down, as Vi holds onto her trying to pull her up, despite the baggage being to heavy but being unable to let go. Vander so well representing the guilt and trauma she carries with her.

In the end she knows she'll pull Vi down with her too, so she forces her to let go. By stealing the hex crystal, which is what started this whole mess, but is such a jinx moment of quick thinking.

God I bawled at the end there I kept thinking they've gotta have another scene that shows maybe she didn't die, or Ekko came to save her again, but no.

I'd go into more detail cause there's just SO much about this season but I've gotta go and I'm sure someone else will cover everything. The show was just phenomenal.

[aspoonofsugar]

Merry Sinsmas!

It's Christmas, so here come some quick and unorganized thoughts on the Helluva Boss season 2's finale :''') (yes, I am late to this)

First of all, I loved the episode and I thought it worked very well as the season's finale!

MY FAVORITE CALLBACKS

The episode is full of callbacks, which show how much the characters have grown. Everybody already listed them, so here are some of my favorites:

The Circus: The beginning and the end of the episode mirror The Circus, with Stolas waking up surrounded by plushies and Stolas being on a balcony looking up at the sky. This is perfect considering this was mostly Stolas's season. It starts with him in a gilded cage:

Prince, all alone Upon your throne Your power is so frail You raise your voice You have no choice Inside your gilded jail

It ends with him dealing with the responsibility of choosing freely:

Stolas: You don't need to feel any guilt for my situation, it was my choice. It was all my choice. I caused all of this.

Murder Family: I.M.P.'s mission mirrors their first mission ever, as they are asked once again to kill a cheater, even if it destroys a family. The difference is that this time the group and Blitz especially does not follow through. This is clever because 1) It ties into the Christmas spirit :P (one good deed for Christmas LOL) 2) It shows Blitz's growth. He has grown enough that he can now imagine a new family for himself and Stolas in the future. Something he could have never done in episode 1, where his business and colleagues were the only family he could conceive. Blitz has now matured enough he is more in tune with his deepest wishes and can slowly start working towards them. It showcases how an important part of the story (half of it really) is over and how next season is gonna change the game and introduce new objectives and struggles.

Spring Broken: The fight against Andrealphus's dragon parallels the fight against the sea monster in Spring Broken. Both times an imp saves their romantic partner from being eaten by a monster, slays said monster from the inside and there is a "high five" played for laughs. In Spring Broken, the couple in focus is Moxxie and Millie, whereas in Sinsmas it's Blitz and Stolas. This is lovely, as it shows Stolitz have the potential to share a full fledged romantic relationship, just like M&M. Considering Blitz sees Moxxie and Millie's bond as perfect to the point he has tried to live it by proxy, this is a pretty important implication. It shows how much Blitz is now open to a true love story with Stolas.

This is a nice moment for Moxxie, as well. In Spring Broken he was drunk and was useless during the fight, leaving it all to Millie. This time he supports Blitz and gains a high five and some appreciation from his Boss (which he deeply craves). Him and Loona's team-up is pretty awesome too <3. Finally, it is interesting that during the fight Moxxie and Millie exchange roles. Moxxie tries the melee, by using a sword, whereas Millie tries the firepower. This is a direct inversion of how they are fighting in their skirmish at the beginning of the episode, where Millie uses a sword and Moxxie a giant gun:

I wonder if it foreshadows a deeper integration Moxxie and Millie will have to undergo next season, especially because the pregnancy plotline will definately arise some conflict.

Queen Bee: Loona gets some nice moments, which show how much more open she is with others compared to the previous season. She now refers to Blitz as dad more often and she is even eager to have him spend time with her friends. Speaking of whom, I love we are seeing more Hellounds. It is so great Loona has managed to build some positive bonds from the Queen Bee's episode and she is now better integrated with the people of Gluttony, her birth sin :''') I guess next season these bonds are gonna have some focus, especially considering Loona keeps mentioning Vicky, a hellhound she hates. I wonder if it's her:

On another note, I LOVE that the Hellounds are all dressed as foods to celebrate gluttony, that is so creative!

Ice cream and Hamburger

Pop corn

Their costumes are also all yellow (or different shades of yellow), aka Bee's color! Loona's outfit even loosely resembles Bee's. I am curious if Loona and Bee's foiling will come up again tbh.

Loo Loo Land and Seeing Stars: Obviously Sinmas heavily references the two other Octavia-centered episodes. This storyline would probably need a meta all for itself, but here are some thoughts. Octavia's "I Will Be Okay" parallels "You Will Be Okay". There Stolas tells Octavia he will always be in her heart, even when he can't be physically there. He also assures Octavia she will be okay even if the universe gets destroyed (because Stolas himself will make sure of it). Here, Octavia sings that even if Stolas left her, she will be okay, but she is cutting ties with her dad. She also sings so as her world (her family) is symbolically falling apart. The space symbolism is interesting because it ties with Seeing Stars, as there is a meteor shower exploding like a giant firework, just like the ones Stolas and Octavia watched together.

In general, Octavia says she is never forgiving her dad and that Stolas will only know her by her name, but she does so by:

Playing a guitar Stolas gave her

Singing a reprise of Stolas's song

Singing a song with a lot of references to space and stars

Well, let's just say Octavia will never be a stranger to Stolas because Stolas is too deeply intertwined with who Octavia is already <3<3<3

This is made clear in the climax of the episode, where Octavia goes to look for her dad because she is worried about his mental health without the Happy Pills and saves him from Andrealphus. This is once again a reference to Seeing Stars. There Octavia is shown to still be inexperienced with her powers and Stolas tells her he has yet to teach her powerful spells. Here Octavia gets a hold of her powers on her own and uses them to defeat her uncle. So, Octavia might learn to fend for herself more, but she is never truly hating her dad, no matter how angry she is.

I also like that the previous two episodes dedicated to Octavia make clear her outburst is not coming out of nowhere. Stolas has been failing her a lot since the beginning of his affair with Blitz:

In Loo Loo Land he still treats Via as the child she isn't anymore and fails to address the issue that is truly and clearly bothering Via until she forces him to. And even there, although he reassures her, Stolas fails to address the matter effectively. (Not that it is simple).

In Seeing Stars he is so caught up in his divorce, he fails to listen to Via and forgets their past promise. The fact it is Loona to find Via and not Stolas himself really ties into this. It is not that Stolas isn't trying, but at the end of the day he spends the majority of the episode with Blitz, laughing at his jokes and getting horny for him. Sure, Blitz was forced into the sit-com, but Stolas could have left Blitz and kept looking for Via. This shows how much Stolas was already struggling between his love for Via and his desire to build a romantic relationship with Blitz.

In short, Via calling Stolas out on prioritizing his relationships with Blitz over their father-daughter one is correct:

Stella: Sorry, sweetie. No talking to that deadbeat. Andrealphus, look who's finally calling! Andrealphus: Oooh! Took him this long? That's hilarious.

Stella and Andrealphus aren't exactly wrong here either. Stolas waited a lot to call Via. That is because he was shocked and needed a long sleep, but Via can't know it. From her point of view her dad took responsibility for a crime in order to save Blitz, was banished and then ghosted her for a whole night/day.

At the same time, it is obvious Via is gonna to slowly discover more and more about her dad and his pain. Finding the Happy Pills was just a first step into a process of maturation, which will lead her to become an adult. Still Stolas's daughter, but not Stolas's helpless little girl anymore.

As two sides note:

I like that season 1 ends with Loona and Blitz's bond in focus, whereas season 2 ends with Stolas and Via's. It is obvious their two girls are key for Blitz and Stolas.

I like how Stolas's home is now completely frozen. It is a great metaphor for the kind of cold and abusive environment Via is now in. It is kind of telling the only parts of the house, which are not frozen are Via's room (filled with her and Stolas's shared interests) and the closet with Stolas's stuff.

STOLITZ I loved the Stolitz's development this episode! It was the perfect wrap up of their relationship this season. It is especially interesting how their dynamic is now inverted compared to the beginning. Right now the one more openly affective and open to an official love story is Blitz. Stolas is instead too heartbroken and jaded to fully jump into it, despite how much he clearly loves Blitz. Also, as other people noticed:

Stolas: Go enjoy your Sinsmas, Blitzo. I'm fine. You don't have to stay here with me.

This is a call back to Full Moon, as Blitz is now choosing to stay by Stolas's side.

Stolas becoming Blitz's secretary is instead another callback to The Circus:

Blitzo: Yeah! A big office! Circus business with clowns and horses! and the horses will all have good names like Stapler and Biscuit Queen. Stolas: I'm sure you will. That sounds like a good business. Blitzo: Yeah! And, if you want to apply, I'll hire you. Maybe. Stolas: You'll hire me? Blitzo: Yeah, if I feel like it. Stolas: Well, I hope I qualify! You'd be a good boss.

In general, it is gonna be interesting to see Stolas struggle with his newfound situation and self-reflect on his previous privilege.

However, the part I loved the most about Stolitz is the fight against Andrealphus:

First of all, I loved the princess and knight's symbolism because it is so extra and it fits them so well! It is also Stolas's dream come true:

Stolas: You wanna know what I want? I want to know what it's like, to not be alone. I want to be someone's someone. I want to feel wanted. But like, in a romantic way, like I'm standing out in the rain at a train station and someone is shouting: “Harriet! Don't get on that train, it's going to London and I cannot be without you!”

Secondly, I loved all the Disney references:

Blitzo: Hey Elsa! Get your icy hands off my bottom, bitch!

Frozen

Sleeping Beauty

Hercules

They are truly hellbent on turning Stolas into a Disney Princess!

OTHER THINGS I LIKED

Via vs Andre

I loved Via easily defeating Andrealphus. First of all, she is awesome and I adored her star-themed powers! Secondly, it ties very well with the classism commentary of the series.

Andrealphus is a Marquis, while Stolas is a Prince. Via is Stolas's heir, which means she is more powerful than Andrealphus, even if her powers are still raw. The short fight makes the difference clear as day.

Why is this important?

Thematically, it makes Andrealphus an interesting foil to Stolas. As a matter of fact he is clearly meant to be seen as Stolas's negative parallel. Both are homosexual nobles forced to repress their sexuality to fit the role they were given by society. However, they clearly both resent said role.

Stolas tries to evade it by starting an affair with Blitx, the first thing that truly makes him happy in years. He acts outside what is expected from Goetias, ignores protocols and eventually helps I.M.P. at a great personal cost. He is slowly going to face and unlearn his unconscious classism in the next season, as he works with Blitz and the others.

Andre tries to climb the hierarchy because he thinks that if he were more powerful and richer he will be happier. Hence he makes use of Hell's rules to dethrone Stolas and steal his assets. However, no matter how much he tries.

First of all, Hell's hierarchy isn't as easily destroyed, especially if you play by its rules:

Satan: STOLAS! I hereby strip you of your status, your power, and your title; Andrealphus: Yeees! Yeeesss! YEEESSSS!! Satan: For the next hundred years. Andrealphus: Oh motherfuck! Seriously?!

Secondly, no matter how much Andrealphus tries, there will always be someone higher than him. Stolas is gone, but Via is already able to kick his ass. He will always be a Marquis and never a Prince.

Thirdly, Andrealphus associates value to social status, but his short fight against I.M.P. makes very clear there is more than powers to a person's abilities. He is immensely more powerful than imps and hellhounds, but he sucks at fighting and it shows. Blitz and the others are able to hold their own easily.

Last, but not least there is no amount of social status that can buy true happiness. Andre being linked to Elsa is funny, but it is also meaningful when we remember Elsa is a lonely girl, who represses her emotions to fit into a system. Well, Andre does the same. He probably represses who he is (his sexuality) and is left cold and unhappy.

In short, just like Striker, Andre too is probably deep down unhappy with the current state of society. However, our protagonists' dark foils try to change their state by hurting others and crushing them under their feet. The protagonists instead more genuinely oppose the system by trying to help others.

Plot-wise, this might lead to some interesting developments.

First of all, this might tie into the Stella-centered episode. It is probable she was forced to marry Stolas, so that her family could social climb. This might explain why she was so angry about Stolas's divorce and why it was so important for her and Andre to get some retribution from Stolas. Their family is on a lower level than Stolas's one.

Secondly, Andre might at one point decide to kill Via, so that he can keep Stolas's assets for himself. This might become true especially if Via keeps rebelling against him. In this case, I have a pretty good idea of who Andre is gonna call:

Striker: Well, this has been fun, but every good thing has to come to an end. Shame you won't see your kid, again. Stolas: Don't you dare breathe a word about my daughter. Striker: Oh. Finally hit a nerve, huh? Stolas: I swear, if you go near her, I will destroy you.

Striker threatened Octavia in Western Energy, so this checkov gun might fire. If so, it will be a chance for Stolas to help Via, for Blitz to face his dark foil once again and for Via to discover the truth about her father's attempted murder.

The pregnancy plotline

This season we have a little conflict between Moxxie and Millie in Happy Campers and I was wondering if they were gonna have a bigger one later on. Well, it seems they will because the pregnancy plotline is going to bring some drama in the relationship.

As for now, to me it seems Millie is not convinced about the pregnancy and might contemplate an abortion:

Millie: What? Didn't he cheat or s-s-something? Come on, this is fun! We've done this kind of t-t-thing before. Blitzo: Just… not this one, Mils. Not today. Millie: I can do this one, I can do this! Blitzo: Millie! Moxxie: We'll do it next time! It's just not worth it. Millie: Don't start, Moxxie! Just because you aren't demon enough to do this job, doesn't mean…

Her being the most insensitive while watching the happy human family seems as foreshadowing that Millie doesn't really want kids. At least not now. This might change of course and I might be wrong. Still, the fact she hasn't told Moxxie about it yet is pretty indicative of how confused she is at the moment.

In general, to me it seems Moxxie and Millie are partly subverting feminine and masculine tropes, as Moxxie is more feminine (musicals) and Millie is more masculine (fighting). At the same time, I think they are also meant to deconstruct these ideas.

Moxxie exhibits some traits of toxic masculinity that clearly come from his father. For example, in Happy Campers he is obsessed by the fact he and not Millie must complete the mission, because he must prove himself to the boss. Or in The Harvest Moon Festival he tries to show he is as strong as Striker, even if his talents lie elsewhere.

Millie might soon reveal she herself might feel pressured to conform to some traditional feminine roles. For example, she might fear that becoming a mother might mean she has to give up her career. Or she is scared of how others (like her family and husband) will see her if she gives up the baby. All in all, she comes from a rather traditional environment and I am curious to see if this inspiration will be used to explore her pregnancy.

SINSMAS

I LOVED the idea of Sinsmas for several reasons.

Thematically, Sinsmas is really about self-expression:

Blitzo: Uh, it's Sinsmas! You know, the day every Hellborn celebrates and acts on their birth sin? Or any sin, whichever ones they want, honestly!

It is about giving in to your vices for one whole day (it is really similar to Carnival), so that you can indulge in what makes you happy, even if it is considered strange or wrong.

This is very important for the theme of classism:

Stolas: I cannot say I'm familiar with this holiday. Blitzo: Really? Wow, rich people don't have any fun, do they? Stolas: No, fun is free, but we can afford nice things.

Stolas is a noble and nobles do not celebrate Sinsmas. That is because the Goetias can never truly express themselves:

Stolas: Yaaaay! Birthday, birthday! WOOHOO! Birthday tiiiiime! Mister Butler: Calm yourself, young prince. You know excitement is unbecoming of a Goetia.

They have to repress repress repress.

So, it is telling Stolas slowly embraces the spirit of wrath throughout the episode.

He starts by trashing Blitz's office (luckily it is insured :P):

Stolas: Augh! Come on, you suck! You fucking suck! You fucking piece of shit, move you fucking face, you goddamn sucking motherfucker— GAH! WHAT A FUCKING IDIOT I AM! THIS WAS SO STUPID! I CANNOT BELIEVE I COULD BE! THIS FUCKING STUPID! I RUINED EVERYTHING! MOVE!!! YOU SHITTY DESK!!!

And he ends by trashing Andrealphus:

He has left the Goetia for one month in universe and he is already fitting in :''')

World-building wise, Sinsmas is very interesting because it is mostly celebrated by Hellborn Demons. Karen, who is a Sinner knows nothing of it and is uninterested in it. For her it's just Christmas.

As a result, I wonder if Pride as a sin is less celebrated than others during this Holiday. We see decorations for Greed, Wrath and Gluttony mostly. But I am sure people from Lust, Envy, Sloth will mostly celebrate these sins. However, the Demons typical of Pride are Sinners or Goetias, both of which do not celebrate.

So, I am wondering:

Do some Sinners who have been in Hell for a while celebrate Sinsmas? Do they stick to Christmas? Do they fuse the two holidays?

Was Pride more celebrated as a Sin before Lucifer decided not to get involved in Hell's affairs anymore?

Do the people of Pride have some specific festivities? Or to better say, do different Rings have different festivities?

I love holidays in different cultures and I would honestly just love a series dedicated to the different holidays in the Hellaverse :''')

MY FAVORITE EPISODES OF THE SEASONS

So, since this was the season's finale, I think I can now say which episodes were my favorite this time around! It is difficult because I thought this season was pretty strong overall, but if I must choose:

Ooops!

Mammon's Magnificent Musical

Ghostfuckers

Mastermind

Sinsmas

These are my favorites! In particular, Mammon's Magnificent Musical and Mastermind are my two pick choice, in no order.

This is all! Merry Christmas to who celebrates and Happy Holiday to everybody!

[buzzyb33]

Relationships.

Prompt: head cannons Y/n and Tobi in the early stages of their relationship in a honeymoon phase, completely head over HEELS.

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content,

Tobi is so in love and after you two get past the awkward phase you’re always at each others sides when you can be, though having a high demand job is a bit difficult, you’re a lawyer, specifically a family lawyer so working for home 60% of the time is nice.

You and Tobi met on your friend’s birthday, out for bowling and he was out with the boys for a video, the next bit got cancelled and while he went to get a sugary drink, so did you, you two making eye contact as you both ordered blue slushies.

“Great minds think alike.” I grin and he laughs.

“I’m y/n.” I smile and look at him.

He smiles back, showing a perfect row of teeth.

“I’m tobi, pleasure to meet you.”

I giggle quietly: “oh the pleasures all mine.”

“Do you not drink?” He asks as the young man starts to make our drinks, his eyes flicking back to Tobi every so often.

“Nah, sometimes I suppose like.. new years? Some birthdays but I like to focus on my work or something like that,” I reply generally honestly and he smiles.

His eyes go to a booth and he seems to be contemplating his options.

“Listen- I have to get back to my friends- but- can I have your number?” He clearly his throat.

“Yeah, yeah okay- course.” I smile and hand him my phone.

He smiles back and puts him name with a contact “Tobi ❤️” and I grin at his boldness.

Thankfully, the boys didn’t notice so he was clear.

Throughout the rest of the time at the bowling alley the two exchanged eye contacts and smiles despite their friends knowledge.

-

On our first date Tobi took- and payed for us to go to a nice restaurant.

“So, what do you do- for work?” I ask just as I finish explaining what I do as a family lawyer, sipping my coke.

“Well i- I make videos.” He said not-so-smoothly.

I him as I pick at my fries.

“You’re a YouTuber?”

He looks at me then laughs lightly.

“Yeah, I’m a youtuber.”

-

Since then, you exchanged schedules and went for little dates, the boys could tell Tobi was happier they just couldn’t put their finger on it.

Just after a shoot as he claimed he was busy- turning down lunch he got a call which caused him to spring to his seat.

He hummed and said various short words into his phone before saying he’ll send the address.

“Oh? You’re getting picked up Tobi? By who?”

Ethan nudges and Tobi sighs in response.

“A friend, that’s why I’m busy.”

He keeps his response discreet until a dark purple Ford Mustang Shelby GT500.

Ethan looks up from his phone as he stands with tobi, which his mouth is open a bit.

“I didn’t know she drove that..” he mumbles and Ethan narrows his eyes.

“It’s a ‘she’?” Ethan says as she pulls into the closest spot and rolls down the window to smile at Tobi.

Clearing his throat he utters out a quick: “bye mate,” and walks to side of the passenger seat before opening the door.

Her windows were tinted, but maybe not enough as he saw the mystery girl kiss Tobis cheek.

“You drive a mustang?” He asks after about a minute of comfortable silence.

“Yeah- as I got on my salary I’d already saved a bit, I’ve always wanted a nice purple car- so, this is great.”

Tobi would say that’s when he fell in love.

From then on, you two started dating a week after that and the guilt hit him, he hasn’t told anyone he was seeing someone, not even josh, he assumed Ethan had blabbed to someone but that wasn’t from the man himself.

-

After telling the boys the force to meet this girl was intense, mainly from Josh and JJ.

“What does she drive? What does she do?” Josh pokes his shoulder.

“Mate-“

“She drives a purple 23 plate mustang, fancy.” Ethan dad without looking from his phone.

Tobi sighs as JJ looks up.

“She has a nice car? Mate let us meet her! What if she’s not good for you- and you can’t see that.”

-

Later in in their relationship the two were inseparable, like horny teenagers at times, always holding hands and giggling, in their little honeymoon phase.

The bowling dates frequent.

Tobis way of showing affection were words of affirmation and some gift giving, which added up to flowers and hand written notes most nights.

But when you move in together? It was like ying and Yang, he did his videos in his office while you did your online meetings and mandatory work in yours, at the end of the day tight in each others arms.

After the boys became comfortable with you, you was closest with Josh (Freya).

You two weren’t big on PDA, it only really stretched to hand holding and thigh touches.

A/n:

This is short but I just wanted to get this out so

Next is Zerkaa then maybe James? I dunno!

Requests are open.

@xixzerkaaxix

Masterlist!

[eilinelsghost]

Reminded again today just how much of the unspoken text in the Athrabeth Finrod Ah Andreth is two friends mourning the loss of the same deeply loved person. Which is all the more poignant in that each's loss has been (directly or indirectly) caused by the other.

Finrod's thorough knowledge of and quickness to elaborate on the reasons and motivation behind his brother's decision indicates it is quite likely he was involved in that decision process. (In fact, I do wonder how much of his later above-and-beyond aid to Beren is not only his oath, but also lingering guilt, having seen the wreckage his probable counsel wrought for Andreth.)

But even besides that inference, Finrod states plainly that it is love and loyalty to his kin that bound Aegnor to make the choice he did.

So in the course of the Athrabeth, Andreth is mourning her deepest loss to that very same kin whom Aegnor chose over his love for her.

Meanwhile, Finrod knows through foresight that he is within a few short years of losing his brother for the duration of Arda. Which, to the best of the Eldar's knowledge, means permanently since they believe themselves existentially bound to it, as Finrod describes in their conversation:

'You see us, the Quendi, still in the first ages of our being, and the end is far off. As maybe among you death may seem to a young man in his strength; save that we have long years of life and thought already behind us. But the end will come. That we all know. And then we must die; we must perish utterly, it seems, for we belong to Arda (in hröa and fëa). And beyond that what? "The going out to no return," as you say; "the uttermost end, the irremediable loss"? 'Our hunter is slow-footed, but he never loses the trail. Beyond the day when he shall blow the mort,& we have no certainty, no knowledge. And no one speaks to us of hope.'

Morgoth's Ring, Part 4: Athrabeth Finrod Ah Andreth

Love and loyalty may have bound Aegnor to choose his family over his love for Andreth in the moment, but Finrod is under no illusions here and understands that this choice will ultimately be payed for in their own subsequent loss of Aegnor.

Loyalty may have swayed him to turn away from his heart's wish, but it will not be cause enough to return. Ultimately Aegnor prefers the timeless stasis in the Halls of Mandos over spending the remaining ages of Arda alongside his family without Andreth.

Finrod attempts to comfort Andreth with the beauty of "a memory that is fair but unfinished" because that is how he is simultaneously consoling himself. A fair but unfinished memory is all either of them will have of Aegnor, even those who Aegnor seemingly chose.

Just as Andreth knows or suspects what led Aegnor to turn away, so also Finrod knows that his brother's love for Andreth is what will soon part them till the end of the world - and potentially eternally if there is no life for the Eldar beyond the confines of Arda.

And yet here they sit together in grief, and through their willingness to share in mourning for their mutual loss, they bring together the two strands of knowledge that enable the unlooked for Hope to be said at last:

He paused a while, and then looking gravely at Andreth he said: 'Yes, Wise-woman, maybe it was ordained that we Quendi, and ye Atani, ere the world grows old, should meet and bring news one to another, and so we should learn of the Hope from you: ordained, indeed, that thou and I, Andreth, should sit here and speak together, across the gulf that divides our kindreds, so that while the Shadow still broods in the North we should not be wholly afraid.'

Morgoth's Ring, Part 4: Athrabeth Finrod Ah Andreth

[animeyanderelover]

What about platonic yandere Rachel and Vincent Phantomhive if they survive au? With reader who isekai'd from our world that miss her family?

I added their children in here too.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusion, manipulation, guilt-tripping, sabotage, clinginess, imprisonment

Isekai reader

🍓 🌓 Rachel's kindness is what saved you on that day where her husband and her children found you. A day where both her asthma and the asthma of her youngest child were better and the whole family was able to go outside. Strays and homeless aren't uncommon to be seen in the darkest streets of London or begging somewhere for money but it's the first time for both of their boys to see someone homeless. You're just sitting in one of the corners, ragged clothes hugging your form as you just sit there with dull and lifeless eyes. The youngest son sees you and approaches you with his childish curiosity, pities you. Vincent, slightly alarmed, is quick to follow him just in case. When his son asks you why you're sitting outside like this, he quickly hushes him and apologizes for the insensible question of his child. You just stare at him with a stoic expression before you look away. It's truly a pitiful sight to behold.

🍓 🌓 Pitiful enough to soften Rachel's heart as she realizes how young you are. She isn't able to go outside that much due to her health so she doesn't see how hard the life of people tends to be. She asks her husband if they can invite you for just one meal and her youngest son agrees as he also wants to do something good for you. Vincent and Ciel hesitate for a while but in the end can't reject the pleads of those two. You just trail quietly behind the family, don't speak much when Rachel and her son try to talk to you. Rachel respects that though, she doesn't know what you've gone through after all. You stop shortly before you arrive in front of their mansion, look at the place in a mix of awe and horror. You turn to them and ask them flabbergasted why they would let you inside, they've basically picked you up on the streets. Vincent reminds you coldly that this is only one time only to be interrupted by his wife who tells you kindly that she wants to help you at least a bit.

🍓 🌓 The servants look at you in shock but quickly comply when they hear what the wish of their mistress is. You are given a new set of clothes and are pushed to take a bath since you reek. Well, you haven't been able to take a good bath in quite a while. In the meantime Vincent questions Rachel if she's going to invite every homeless person over now but she is vehement to insist that she knows that she can't help every person who suffers. But she just couldn't ignore you, you looked so frail and lost. When you are led to the dining room, you grow slightly nervous to be in the presence of those people. Rachel compliments you for looking fine now that you wear fresh clothes and are cleaned. The meal you have is better than everything you've had since you've arrived here but despite that you mind your table manners since you're in the presence of nobles in here. You surprise Vincent a bit with that since you're far more mannered than he initially thought you'd be.

🍓 🌓 What really ends up shocking him is your educational level and your insight on certain things. You keep quiet throughout the whole meal, are far too ashamed to even look at this family. It isn't until Vincent and Ciel start a insightful conversation about something that perks your interest. All it really takes is one comment from you in regards of their conversation that suddenly earns you the earl's attention. You quickly apologize, terribly ashamed and embarrassed that you just butted into their conversation like this. But instead Vincent encourages you to join the discussion they have and even if you are more careful with your answers, he can clearly sense that you are smarter than you might let on. You know more than the basics in things like maths and physics and prove to have an educational level which not everyone has. Not to mention that you seem to be very insightful. It surprises him to discover just how knowledgeable you are.

🍓 🌓 The meal takes longer than intended which is mainly because your answers and guesses push Vincent to chat with you longer and the whole family joins in at one point. You definitely have their curiosity now which embarrasses and flatters you all together. When you've finally gotten to the end of it, you stand up and bow deeply, thank them for their hospitality and that you'll leave now. Instead Vincent tells you to stay here for a while longer since he wants to discuss something with Rachel. The children are sent to bed by the servants whilst you are led into a huge room where you sit down on the couch and just wait awkwardly. You feel terribly out of place. The couple returns after a while and before Vincent can even start to explain, Rachel asks you if you'd like to work for them. You just stare at both of them surprised and then your gaze turns to the earl. Didn't he tell you that you would leave as soon as the dinner would be over?

🍓 🌓 Vincent then explains to you that he wouldn't just take any stranger into his house and he'll certainly make sure that Rachel won't take every homeless person in. The only reason he's offering you such a position is because he thinks your knowledge would be wasted in the streets. He has a distinct feeling that you're special and he intends to trust his intuition on this one. You mull over their offer for a while with Rachel awaiting your answer eagerly. You don't have anywhere to go anyways and you have no idea if you can ever return. You should at least make sure that you have a roof over your head and can take care of your own life by having a job and earning money. Considering all of that makes your answer obvious. You agree and within the same night you're given a bed and a room which you have to share with some of the other maids. You're happy though that you finally can enjoy the comfort of a mattress, a pillow and a blanket again.

🍓 🌓 At first some of the servants are unsure how to feel about you since you're still someone who came from the streets. Vincent asks you sooner than expected about what exactly happened in your past, something Rachel chastises him for since he shouldn't push you. You have probably led a bad life so far. He should be more sensible and give you a bit more time. You just stare at him for a while and he can see in your eyes that you're reliving some bad memories right now. The only thing you tell both of them then is that you're entire family is gone and that you'll never be able to see them again. You ask Rachel after that if you can leave and she excuses you, apologizes to you for having to recall such sad memories. Vincent could dig deeper but knows that he probably should let it be, he has seen the pain in your eyes. He's still a bit curious to know where exactly you were taught so much.

🍓 🌓 Luckily you manage to blend in quickly with the rest of the servants who soon accept you. They see how hard you work and when they catch glimpses of your educational knowledge they understand why their earl offered you this place. You are always ready to help and are quick and willing to learn new tasks you apparently haven't done before. Rachel asks you almost every time how you're doing and if you've grown used to this place yet and her youngest son seems always eager to talk with you for a bit. Vincent and Ciel like to chat with you since you surprise them sometimes with your wisedom, especially Vincent is fascinated with your answers and predictions you sometimes make. Everything is almost good but Rachel gets told that you often just stay in your room, that you suffer often nightmares at night and that some of them have caught you silently crying somewhere before. Your past still makes you suffer greatly apparently.

🍓 🌓 Rachel seeks you out, worried for you although you tell her that she shouldn't concern herself too much with you. It's true that you miss your family but you can't do anything about it since they're gone now. She still tells you that you can always come to her if you need to talk with someone. You're touched by her kindness, know that you can most likely never tell her the truth about what really happened though. The whole family is rather fond of you at one point though. You become pretty much Rachel's personal maid at one point and she spends much time with you when she's bedridden due to her condition. Vincent often asks you about your opinions on certain topics since he trusts your advices since you always consider things from a different perspective than him and sometimes seem to know how a certain situation will end. Ciel likes talking with you too due to your occasional humor and knowledge and his younger brother is really clingy and you often look out for those two when their parents are busy. Both don't mind a bit though and actually come sometimes running to you when they have a problem.

🍓 🌓 You don't talk much about your past and the little pieces of knowledge the household has lets most assume that your family was better of than the average citizen but died in a tragic accident and that that is the reason why you are so knowledgeable and have ended up on the streets. Something doesn't sit right with Vincent though. He has tried to do his research on you but couldn't find anything. There is no family with your last name you admitted accidentally to him at one point, there is no history with a family of that name who died for some reason. There is no family at all with that name in London. He doesn't believe your family to be the average citizens, the deepness of your education must mean that one of your family members must have been a teacher, a doctor or just richer. Then there is something else that arouses his suspicion at times. The way you behave and talk is rather eccentric at times, certain words sometimes leave your lips that he's never heard and your predictions, when you share them with him, are spot-on at times. As if you know what was going to happen.

🍓 🌓 Ciel sometimes also tells him that you tell his younger brother and him weird things at times when you're somewhere else with your thoughts and always try to cover it up afterwards. Son and father both feel like there is something you keep hidden from them and both want to know what that is. They can agree on the fact that whatever you keep a secret won't harm them though, you would never do something to hurt them. They just want to know because whatever it is you tell no one is a weight pulling on your heart. The distant and sad look at times, that one time Ciel and his brother caught you crying and your silent and sometimes downright depressing behavior. They can't bear to see you like this, they care too much.

🍓 🌓 By now your lifestyle has undergone a little change as the Phantomhive family might have grown a bit too attached to you. You have been working less and less in the kitchen or cleaned the house. Instead you spend a lot of time with Rachel and her husband, read stories to the youngest boy and are even allowed to help the twins with their education since you know enough to teach them. Ciel's younger brother also demands your presence a lot since he has asthma too and is often too sick to go outside which upsets him. So he wants you to play with him or read him some stories. Most of your meals are taken together with the family even though this isn't something that should happen considering that you're just a plain servant. You tell them so too but they just laugh it off and tell you that they want you to enjoy your food together with them. You even get your own private room instead of sharing a room with the other maidens.

🍓 🌓 Vincent doesn't want to threaten you even if he could do that with ease. You've become a part of his family, of their family by now. He knows that everyone feels the same way too so he can't force you to tell him. Not to mention that Rachek would never fully forgive you if he would use force against you. Instead him and Ciel try to coax you into telling them what your full story is. You know that they care for you so much after all, you can always come to them if it becomes too much for you alone to carry. Rachel and the youngest son are not informed about their plan for now though since both are much more purer and kinder. Rachel and her youngest are really clingy with you and especially the little one is often right next to you and hides behind you when he feels shy. Rachel gushes over both of you since you two are so adorable together, feels happier than ever with you as the lovely addition to this family. She often tells you that she views you like her own family too to let you know that she loves and cares for you.

🍓 🌓 You find yourself at times overwhelmed with all the affection that is thrown your way and the way Vincent and Rachel dote on you and their children. There is guilt embracing your heart too since you can't shake off the feeling that you're betraying your own family because of this situation. They aren't dead, just in a world so far away from where you are right now and this guilt gets the better of you at times when you abruptly try to distance yourself from the Phantomhive family to feel like you're loyal to your own. You can't do that for too long though since Vincent will order for the servants to get you if he realizes that you try to avoid them. He doesn't want Rachel and his youngest son to know since they'd be heartbroken and reminds you of that in a chiding tone too. He knows you could never be the cause of happiness for those two. Weirdly enough he sees right through you and even asks you if you isolate yourself because you can't let go of your own family. You give him a terrified and exposed look.

🍓 🌓 Vincent and Ciel are both slightly unhappy with your emotional inability to accept them as your new family. From the ways you act your family is either dead or will most likely never return to you so there shouldn't be a problem. Emotions have never been rational though and both are aware of that. At times you do seem truly happy though, feel like you really are part of their family and nothing brings Rachel greater joy than seeing the happy smile on your face when you interact with her youngest or joke around with Ciel. She wants you to always be like this but knows it's selfish from her to ask this of you, especially since you lost your real family which still affects you at times. She tells Vincent her dream nevertheless and he promises her that you just need time to recover. He will make sure that her dream will become a reality.

🍓 🌓 Months pass by where you still don't tell anyone about your past and grow more torn apart between what you used to have and still want and what you have now and have learned to treasure. Your guilt holds you back from truly acknowledging the Phantomhive family as your new family in this world and your heart breaks every time when the youngest son tells you that you're like an older sibling to him and that he loves you a lot or when Rachel gives you a gentle hug and smiles at you with this fond look of hers. It fills you with guilt and the emotional gaslighting that Vincent and sometimes even Ciel do to convince you to tell them only hurts you more. Until one night, after another nightmare of yours, the guilt kills you and you go straight to the chambers of Rachel and Vincent. Both are still tired when they wake up and see you standing there but as soon as they notice your tears and the sobs you try to hold back, both are awake. They both know that you most likely had another nightmare but this is the first time you've sought them out after one.

🍓 🌓 You slump down on the bed next to you, still distraught after your nightmare and both of them try their best to comfort you. Rachel embraces you with her warmth and Vincent caresses your hair. Both wait for you to tell them what has happened and you sob out that they probably won't believe you anyways if you tell them everything now. Rachel cradles your face in her hands carefully and promises to you that they'll believe you and the look in her eyes is what finally breaks you. Everything just spills out of you as you tell them that you came originally from another country but were somehow transported into this world and you have no way to come back home, don't know of any at least. Both of them share a short glance with each other and they know exactly what each other is thinking. They both believe you. Rachel because she knows you would never lie to her and Vincent because he is very good in telling whether someone is lying to him or not. He doesn't believe that you're lying to him and somehow everything makes perfect sense to him now. Your weird words and how you know so much. Both comfort you for the rest of the night.

🍓 🌓 The parents decide to tell their children nothing for now although they'll have to do that at one point. Ciel most likely suspects that something is going on and approaches his father who just tells him that he has to wait for a bit but promises to him that he'll definitely be told soon what has happened. Rachel grows more paranoid now that she knows the truth and it leads her to suffer under insecurities. It must be torture for you to know that your real family searches for you and hopes for you to return to them without knowing that you're stuck in a completely different world. She starts doubting if she can really make you happy and Vincent has to comfort her when she's distraught like this. She's more clingy and affects her youngest son too. He doesn't know what's going on but realizes that his mother is terrified for you which makes him more clingy and terrified too. He suddenly constantly wants to be with you and his mother since she'a afraid to leave you alone so he grows afraid too as soon as he can't find you.

🍓 🌓 Vincent is slightly disturbed. As fascinating as it might be to know that there are more worlds than the human eye will ever be able to see, he's a bit unsure. You've told Rachel and him that you don't think that you'll ever be able to return to your own world but there is no guarantee for that. You didn't know after all what triggered you to be sent to his world in the first place. There's no guarantee that the same won't happen again. It's frustrating since it's one of the few times where he is unable to control the situation and the lack of information makes it all even worse. It's ridiculous but the only thing he can do now is hoping that you truly will never return. He knows that this is selfish but Vincent is a egotistic man to begin with. His wife and children love you and he does too, he won't lose a precious family member. They're your new family after all, they can make you happy. Enough for you to stop being often so sad about your family in your original world.

[lolotheparagon]

Every Yonderland Episode in a Nutshell - Season 1

For those who dont know, Yonderland was a British fantasy comedy show about a stay at home mother named Debbie, who finds a portal to another world in her utility cupboard. She finds a bunch of Elders who claim her to be the Chosen One, but they have no idea what a Chosen One does cos one of the Elders threw up on the Chosen One scroll and completely destroyed it in the process. So Debbie and her friends Nick the Stick and Elf go on daily quests in Yonderland, whilst trying to find out what her destiny as Chosen One even is. Meanwhile a Robbie Rotten like villain named Negatus and his imp minions cause trouble as usual.

Its a very tongue and cheek parody of 80s fantasy movies like Labyrinth and Dark Crystal, with the usage of puppets and live action actors in a fantasy setting. The humour and dialogue is quite British, but not enough to be alienating to ppl. You will still get plenty of jokes as the show is reliant on snarky comebacks, Family Guy like cutaway gags and surrealist humour. Which is, quite frankly, what British comedy is best at.

Anyway, I've loved this show so much for being just a sheer riot and the humour is practically tailor-made for me. Even when the show got more 'story-heavy' as much as that phrase makes me want to gag, it still retained its charm and goofy spirit.

So without further ado, here's my quick reviews on each Yonderland episode! Starting with Season 1!

The Chosen Mum - 9/10

The idea of a someone being deemed a Chosen One by the leaders of a fantasy realm only to find they have no idea what a Chosen One actually does cos the one scroll that is all about that has been vomitted on and destroyed is fucking hilarious and that should be in a lot more legit Chosen One stories more often. Also love how Debbie is not at all impressed by the fantasy world. Its like the opposite reaction of an isekai and I love that

The Wizard Bradley - 7/10

Debbie and Elf try to do marriage counselling to get an elderly Caddicarus-like wizard and his Muppet husband to make up so they can continue their magic act. And also so the wizard can help Debbie find a copy of the Chosen One scroll. OH YEAH THERE'S COPIES OF CHOSEN ONE SCROLLS NOW. LEGENDARY SCROLLS ARE LIKE FAX SHEETS IN THIS WORLD XD. Btw I love how Debbie asks the wizard to make a potion to help cure her husband's flu, that was sweet.

Reformation - 10/10

Debbie finds a group of monks that have Sheldon Cooper levels of unfiltered honesty and in order to save them from poverty after their truth has caused one angry customer to destroy their monastery, Debbie tries teaching them how to lie...by turning them into real estate agents. I have never laughed so hard at a TV episode in all my life.

The Ultimate Prize - 8/10

Debbie tries to get a nerdy page to enter a grand tournament cos the knights keep on dying before they enter lmao. A bit weird that Debbie has to kiss the page in order to give him confidence for a kissing trial cos Debbie's been hit on by the characters quite a lot in this season and it gets old really fast. This is what happens when 5 men write a show about a female protagonist. Meanwhile, Negatus risks sending his boss' most strongest warrior behind her back so he can win the tournament. What a fucking dick, I love him.

Closing the Portals - 10/10

When Debbie declares she's had enough of Yonderland, Elf and the entire realm helps her on her last quest and bid farewell to Debbie throughout the whole episode. This episode is one giant guilt trip and I fucking love it. Although, it was really sweet that a tribe of fluffy babus made Debbie an embroidered apology, like do you know HOW DIFFICULT EMBROIDERY IS TO MAKE?? ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU HAVE TINY BBY HANDS?!

The Idiot King - 8/10

The Elders team up Debbie with a narcissistic king (btw love how there's monarchies all over Yonderland and not one of them is in charge of the whole realm) in order to find another copy of the second scroll. Turns out the king is absolutely hated by the public and he's blissfully unaware that him showboating his wealth is the reason why everyone hates him. So its up to Debbie's speech and Little Orphan Timmy to get this king to have a change of heart and give out his wealth to the people. Oh, if only monarchies were this easily fixed in real life. Highlight is definitely the king trying to serenade Debbie and its clear from the first lyric, its not working. He even drags his poor butler to do backup singing. Its hilariously pathetic.

The Heart of the Sun - 6/10

Okay, the joke of Debbie being the only smart person in the room and be practically a mother figure to a bunch of grown men is getting old now. The fact that she has to teach a group of idiots to not be idiots in order to save themselves from catapulting into the sun wouldve been a fine episode on its own, but it only highlights one of the show's biggest problems...Although. The ending does make it worth it. Im not gonna spoil it but it did make me laugh which is all i ask for in a Yonderland episode. Kendall was definitely the highlight. I mean, look at this guy: he was MADE FOR TUMBLR

Dirty Ernie - 10/10

After kidnapping Elf, Negatus dresses up as a hobo in order to lure Debbie into his lair. I love how the characters Debbie has helped in previous episodes: the real estate agents, the wizard and the polite knights have banded together to help her save Elf. It really makes Yonderland feel like a community repaying Debbie for all her good deeds. Its about time this woman got some respect. I also love how the guys came up with a legit clever plan to save Debbie when she gives herself up. Also love that small scene where everyone celebrates at Debbie's house for tea. Man, this episode's just great.

Conclusion:

A great first season to start off the show. Funny, endearing, has that wacky yet dry wit that is a staple of British humour and its just unapolgetically fun. Which is a relief from all the peak tv nonsense that plagued the 2010s. I have been warned that the second season gets a bit more into Debbie's past and her relationship to the looming villain Imperatrix bullshit. but due to the strictly episodic nature of the show and the fact there are 8 episodes a season, its not as bad as other shows cos there's no time for waffling. It also helps that the few bits of season 2 ive seen still have Yonderland's charm and goofiness, so that definitely helps.

[astarionmademewriteit]

Death Would be Too Easy

Astarion (Unascended) x (unnamed Durge) female reader/tav

Rating: Explicit

MDNI. 18+ ONLY. Blank bios will be blocked.

Wordcount: 5k

Tags: Smut; Act 3 Durge spoilers; Blood, gore and violence; Suicide attempt (tav); Drowning; Fingering; Piv sex; Slight Sub/Dom dynamic; Tiny fluff ending.

Summary: Dark urge tav has had enough of killing and the subsequent loneliness in her life and decides to try and end it. Astarion comes to her rescue, commiserates with her suffering and tries to make her (and himself) feel better.

Author note: This is my first fic so be kind 🥲

I glance around the forest, shrouded in darkness–not a sound save the lively insects and the occasional hoot of an owl. I drag the body of my victim to the edge of an unsuspecting ditch and let them fall to the ground. I huff out of exhaustion, considering I haven’t slept in what felt like ages. I wipe the sweat from my brow and place a foot on the back of my victim, ready to dispose of them for good.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

I glance down at the blood on my hands–recognizing the ways in which my thrill for killing has slowly lost its edge. I send a quick prayer to father, but it is empty–hollow and missing its usual vigor. I sigh deeply, transfixed on washing away the evidence from my brutal killing. The blood seeps into every pore of my skin, almost as if my body invites its welcome essence.

I glance down at my victim, their eyes gouged out of their skull, blood leaking from every stab wound inflicted to their chest and abdomen. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. A wave of guilt washes over me. It has been decades since I felt any remorse for my actions. However, having been displaced from my home and severed from all my familial and cult ties, a little bit of humanity seeps into my very soul. I kick their body down into the ditch, the lifeless husk crashing into roots and stone until it comes to rest on the banks of a ravine.

I turn back to the forest, peering into the dark. I feel something’s eyes on me, traipsing through the dark with a curious gaze. I brush it off–not the slightest concern tugs at my mind. I am the most dangerous thing lurking in these woods. I start back towards camp, looking forward to a quick dip in the lake.

I pass by my companions, sleeping soundlessly around the fire–the others tucked away in their tents awaiting dawn’s kiss. I note Astarion is not in his bedroll, no doubt suckling from some unappetizing beast. It’s almost comforting to know that I am not the only nighttime killer, even if no one else is aware that I too lurk in the shadows, killing innocent lives in the name of a God who has not seen it necessary to save me from this predicament I have found myself in. I cannot help but wonder why I continue to ritually murder fellow vagabonds, especially when I receive no reward–not even the pleasure that used to accompany slaughter.

I shake my thoughts away and walk to the shore, watching as the moonlight bounces off the gentle waves that lap against my feet. I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it overhead, discarding it further up the beach. I move to my pants, unlacing them slowly, savoring the way the cool night air kisses my bloodstained skin. Once my clothes have been discarded, I test the water, it was cool but not unbearable. I let my hair down and wade into the refreshing water.

The blood slides from my skin and tendrils of red swirl along the surface of the water as I venture deeper into the pond. I dive the rest of the way in, ready to rid myself of the violence I committed earlier. I sink to the bottom, and for a moment, I will myself to stay. Perhaps I should die here. End my suffering. Bhaal knows that if I left this world, then it would be saved from any more of the suffering I would be forced to unleash.

My vision goes blurry. If I weren’t under water, tears would surely slip from my eyes. I squeeze my eyes shut. They would be false tears. A cold-blooded murderer does not weep for its victims. That’s all I am after all–heartless, unfeeling, an empty shell for my father to puppet.

Darkness begins to take over my vision, my lungs yearn for breath and my body is in agony. I would be better off dead. I will never love. I will never know a gentle touch. I am doomed to a future filled with blood and gore. At least this way I can save what little soul I have left.

My head grows foggy and I can feel my heart slowing. My body is ready to gasp for air that will not come. Instead my lungs will fill with water and I will sink away, forgotten by the world. I have made my peace with that.

Before I can drift away, a loud splash interrupts my thoughts. I dare not open my eyes or break my concentration. My body will want to reach the surface, and I am unwilling to allow my antagonisms to ruin this world. A pair of strong arms wrap around me roughly and pull me to the surface. I try to fight against my so-called rescuer–beating at their chest and fighting against their grip… to no avail. My head breaches the surface and my body instinctively pulls air into my lungs. I gasp loudly, welcoming the air as it enters my agonizingly painful lungs.

I cough uncontrollably, my head swimming with pressure. Once I catch my breath I open my eyes, only to be met with those dangerous vermillion eyes that I have come to know over the last few weeks.

Astarion looks at me annoyingly, clearly not impressed by my suicide attempt. I glare at him while my breathing calms. I slam my fists into his chest as my anger resurfaces.

“Why?! Why did you save me,” my voice breaks, betraying my hopelessness, “I-I wanted to die you prick.” A tear falls from my eye and my body shakes with unfiltered rage and torment as I continue to scream obscenities in his direction and beat my fists on his bare chest.

Astarion does not let go of his grip around my waist, his arms snake around my waist and interlock into an inescapable prison. His face is set in stone and none of the hurtful things I hurl in his direction seem to phase him. Instead he sits there quietly until I grow tired of badgering him.

My exhausted body cannot take anymore and I burst into tears, the repressed emotions spilling out of me like a dam breaking. I cry, my screams of agony and sorrow flow unfiltered.

Astarions arms tighten around me, “Just let it out,” he whispers gently. His firm grip on me refuses to allow me to fall below the water’s surface once again, so I do as he says. I let my sorrow unfold in the ugliest of ways, letting it crash down in devastating pain.

I nuzzle my head into his chest and unleash all of my sorrow. I cry for the love I will never feel. I cry for the pain I have inflicted on countless people. I cry for the loneliness that has plagued my blackened heart for so long–the feeling of isolation and duty weigh so heavily on my soul that I can feel its crushing burden. I allow myself to unburden my sorrows, not even caring how utterly foolish I must look to the vampire.

Astrion slips an arm under my legs and starts towards the shore. I wrap my arms around his neck, accepting that he will not allow me to drown tonight. We emerge from the water and he sets me on a log and quietly walks to his tent to retrieve a blanket to cover my naked body.

Once his blanket is draped over my shoulder he begins building a fire on the shore and allowing me time to collect myself. His scent completely engulfs me, his embroidered blanket smells strong of his scent–bergamot, brandy, and a hint of musk. I drink it in, letting it soothe the heaviness of my emotions. I watch as Astarion breathes life into the fire–the flames licking up the sides of the logs and illuminating his ruby-red eyes.

His gaze meets mine before he moves to sit next to me on the log. I look at him, half-expecting him to lecture me on my stupidity. Instead, the look he gives me is one of understanding.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks after a moment. His eyes search mine. I break our gaze and turn to the fire, contemplating on how much I should tell him. If I tell him about my need for slaughter, my uncontrollable state of bloodlust, will he still understand? Or will he wish that he had never pulled me from the water?

“I… There’s something wrong with me,” I stammer, unable to meet his gaze out of shame. I can barely bring the words to my lips, “I think it would be easier to show you,” I mumble. I turn to look at him. His eyes search mine once again, a look of worry paints his face. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want to intrude on my privacy.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, wrapping the blanket tighter around my shoulders, “I want you to see,” I make up my mind. I open my mind up, allowing the tadpole to reach out to him, waiting for him to latch on to my memories… to my past and my fears.

He nods his head and pushes his mind into my thoughts. I allow him to peer into my past, the thousands of ritual slaughters I have committed in my father’s name. I show him my childhood–bloodspawn teaching me the location of the main arteries, the most precise cuts to inflict, and the reverent slaughter I was to commit in Bhaal’s name. I show him the countless faces of my victims after death, their lifeless gaze, their blood draining into pools in Bhaal’s temple below the city. I show him the aching loneliness I feel, the isolation I subject myself to. The emotional ties I have cut with others, to save myself the sorrow for when I inevitably end their lives. I allow him to feel what I feel, the hate, the sorrow, the anger, the aching loneliness and the hopelessness of my future. I show him that I am a slave to murder, that I am not worthy of his or the other’s recognition. I wish only for death, because it is far better than the alternative.

Astarion unlatches from my memories and I inevitably wait for the verbal lashing. I wait for his rejection. I wait for his blade to kiss my throat once again, all his restraint gone as it slices through my neck as he leaves me to die. I can barely look at him, I feel so ashamed. I am a false hero. Nothing I have tried to correct will ever make up for the lives I have ended.

While I continue to wallow in my self-loathing, Astarion places a gentle hand on my shoulder and forces me to turn towards him. My vision is blurry as tears threaten to spill from my eyes once again. I am not sure I am ready for this.

“You could have told me, you know,” he whispers gently. I look into his eyes and see none of the hatred or anger I expected, “We….We have walked very similar paths, you and I.” He searches for his words carefully, “I do not judge you, if that is what you are fearful of. Actually, I am somewhat relieved to know the truth, especially after coming upon you in the woods earlier,” he confesses, a small nervous laugh escapes his lips. “Regardless, if you are unhappy with your situation… I am sure we can rectify that once we enter the city. Gods know we all have our demons to overcome.” He looks off into the distance, clearly reminiscing over his own troubled past.

I look at him, taken aback by his kindness and understanding. "W-wait. Y-you aren't going to kill me?" His profile is sharp, but his features soften as a smile plays on his lips.

He throws his head back and laughs loudly, "Ha! Kill you? Why ever would you think that, my dear?"

I blush at his little nickname. We have certainly spoken to one another, flirted even. But that was the extent of our interactions. Friendly, if not a little stand-offish, and full of playful banter. Of course, I could never get too close to him, otherwise images danced in my mind of his pretty corpse. I shake the silly thoughts from my mind. I'm sure it was harmless.

"W-well… I'm a monster," I croak.

Astarion chuckles darkly, "A monster? Far from it. Dangerous? Potentially. Scandalous? Absolutely. But a monster?" He strokes his chin in thought, "We are similar, you and I. Never hoping to have full control over our bodies. Committing unspeakable acts of violence in someone else's name. It does not mean we are past the point of redemption."

I watch him contemplate silently, tracing the sharp features of his profile with my eyes. Taking in his beauty and the unguarded expression gracing his face. I’ve never fully had the opportunity to admire him in this way. Furthermore, his usual hardened facade has slipped from his demeanor and I feel like I am seeing his true self. I get the feeling most people do not see this side of him.

He blinks away whatever thoughts were swimming around in his mind and he turns to me, the glow from the fire outlining his face in a beautiful aura–he looks diabolically angelic in this moment.

I blush at my own thoughts. He has no idea how beautiful he is, but his perfection catches in my throat, rendering me speechless. I turn away, unsure of what to say.

“Thank you,” I finally breathe, “Most people look at me with disdain in their eyes. I think… I think I’ve come to expect it.”

He laughs breathily and scoots closer to me–his body mere inches from mine and making me flustered. He throws an arm around my shoulder and pulls me the rest of the way in. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “When I look at you… I do see the bloodlust,” I stiffen, dread filling my body once again–worried that I was doomed to be seen as a monster first and foremost by the ones I care about, “But,” he continues, “more than anything, I see someone who wants to do good… someone who wants to be redeemed. I see your heart, and it is a beautiful thing. I see the true you.” He grabs my chin lightly and forces me to look into his eyes. My breath hitches in my throat. “I see someone who wants–no, needs–to be known. He leans in and places a gentle kiss on the corner of my mouth before pulling away. “You deserve to feel loved. You deserve to be seen for who you truly are. I want to give you that. If… you’ll allow me.”

I look up at him with rounded eyes, completely taken off guard, “I-I didn’t think you liked me… like that.” I fidget with my fingers, suddenly feeling vulnerable and slightly embarrassed. I always had a crush on Astarion, but I pushed those feelings aside to protect him. He couldn’t be on the receiving end of my ritual dagger. I wouldn’t allow it.

“Y-you saw my memories. I’m destined to kill anyone I get close to. How… how could you be okay with that?” I shake my head and bury my face in my hands. “I’m cursed to be alone forever.”

He chuckles softly and his eyes soften, “I have the utmost confidence that it will never get to that point,” He cocks an eyebrow at me playfully, “But if it were to come to that, I’m sure some restraints could go a long way.”

The way he is looking at me now, his vermillion eyes bore into me reflecting a hint of danger–a hint of unrestrained lust. How could I say no to this beautiful man? “I crave more than anything to be touched…” I admit, finding it difficult to meet his gaze.

“Mmm,” his voice is gravelly and heavy with ecstasy, “Where, my love?”

I exhale in amazement, I clearly did not expect my night to end in such a manner. I blush uncontrollably, “Everywhere.”

A devilish grin forms across his face flashing his fangs, sharp as a knife, “Your wish is my command,” he whispers before pulling me on top of him. The blanket slips from my shoulders, and falls unused to the ground. I wrap my legs around his waist and snake my arms around his neck, playfully running my fingers through his perfect ivory curls.

He looks at me adoringly before leaning in and pressing his perfect lips to mine. I haven’t been kissed in what feels like years and I hungrily kiss back pressing my entire body into him. He greedily accepts my desperate tongue, and we explore each other’s mouth with all the passion that can be mustered. His fangs rake against my bottom lip and I moan into his mouth. I press my lips to him harder before he is pulling away and flashing me his gorgeous fangs. Astarion drags a thumb lightly across my bottom lip, eliciting a feral moan to escape my mouth.

His other hand traces down my spine, sending heat directly to my core. His tender traces along my body brings my senses to life–no, he sets them on fire–for I have never felt this good from just a few sensual touches. His hand comes to rest on my ass which he squeezes playfully. I yelp in response which only motivates him to continue.

Astarion begins to guide my hips, rocking them back and forth against his lap. I can feel his growing arousal beneath his pants which sends me into a lustful frenzy. I begin to rock my hips to the pace he has set for me, and I throw my head back when I feel my core grinding against his still growing arousal.

He leans in close and drags his nose up my throat, drinking in the scent of my blood, “That’s it, darling,” he whispers gruffly. I suddenly crave for him to bite me, to drink from me. I want to feel the pain, my essence slipping away as I continue to stimulate myself.

I can barely speak from the pleasure I am feeling, but I manage to whimper, “Take from me, Astarion.” I lean my head back further, offering him my throat for his pleasure. He chuckles darkly, his hot breath pounding against my skin, further lighting my senses on fire. I rock my hips harder, “Please.”

He doesn’t hesitate a moment longer. He sinks his fangs into my soft flesh, the pain like ice in my veins before my warm blood falls from the newly made twin puncture wounds. He sucks greedily, savoring the taste of my blood. I moan against him, taking pleasure in the way my body reacts against him. His hand slides from my throat down my sternum and comes to rest just above my throbbing sex.

I whimper uncontrollably, craving for him to go lower, “P-please,” I beg.

Astarion smiles against my throat and pulls away temporarily, “Your begging sounds so sweet,” he coos. He only makes me want to beg harder.

“I need you,” I cry.

A growl escapes his throat and he latches himself back to my throat and pulls more blood into his mouth, coating his tongue and throat. He has gone completely feral. He drags his fingers to my cunt and begins slowly circling my swollen clit.

I gasp loudly, unconcerned with waking up the others in camp. I haven’t been truly touched in so long that I forgot just how wonderful it feels. His fingers expertly circle my clit, igniting something deep in my core. Pleasure begins to build and I can feel myself ready to fall over the edge. I grind against his fingers, feeling needy begging to be filled.

He laughs against my neck and slides his fingers into my aching cunt. I cry out in pleasure, coming completely undone by his long slender fingers. I can barely handle how much he is already stretching me out and I buzz with excitement and anticipation when I think about what else he has in store for me.

His fingers penetrate me deeply, and his lips on my neck have me spiraling. He slides his fingers in and out of me quickly, using his thumb to stimulate my clit. He pulls away from my throat and looks at up at me through his pale lashes, “Does that feel good, darling?”

I nod my head rapidly, unable to form words as his fingers work their magic. My vision begins to blur and I pant uncontrollably. I can feel myself nearing the edge of no return and it is a delicious feeling.

Astarion smiles dangerously, licking the blood from his fangs, “Come for me, pet,” he pleads darkly.

His voice sends me over the edge, I come undone around him, my cunt tightening around his fingers and my hips bucking of their own volition. My orgasm rocks through me, my body spasms with pleasure and my toes curl to an ungodly degree. I let his name slip from my lips as I cry out in pleasure.

“There you go, darling,” he coos, talking me through my orgasm, “Just. Like. That.”

His thumb doesn’t let up from his ministrations until my orgasm has slowly faded and I come back down from my high. Not wasting any time I press my lips back to his, kissing him deeply and hungrily. I need to feel him inside me and I cannot wait much longer. I move to untie the laces of his pants and he stands, hoisting me into the air as I continue to straddle his waist.

Once I’ve successfully unlaced his pants, his throbbing member springs free. I grab the base of his shaft and begin pumping his large cock. He throws his head back and moans loudly. He places me on the soft sand and hovers over me as I continue to service him.

“I need to be inside you,” he breathes raggedly.

He lines himself at my entrance and rubs his throbbing head against my clit. I’m dripping with anticipation. He enters me slowly at first, and he grunts loudly.

“Fuck,” he whispers in my ear. He pushes himself all the way in, fighting against my tight dripping cunt.

He spreads me out wider than I have ever been before and I cry out with pleasure.

“Your pussy is so perfect,” he growls. He pushes further in until there is nothing left and I wrap my legs around him, not wanting him to pull back out.

He begins slowly pumping in and out of my aching pussy, and my arousal rings out like a symphony.

“Oh god, Astarion,” I whine. The way he fills me so completely as if my pussy was molded perfectly around his cock sends me into a feral frenzy.

“That’s right, darling,” he hisses, “Say my name like a fucking prayer.” He picks up the pace, punishing my pussy with his forceful thrusts.

“Astarion,” I cry again, letting his name fall from my lips in absolute reverence.

He snakes an arm around my back and lifts my hips up slightly which only serves to penetrate me deeper than I ever thought possible. He picks up his pace further, letting his cock slip in and out of me with ease.

I can feel myself on the verge of toppling over the edge once again, “I-I’m gonna… Oh Astarion,” I whimper, unable to fully form a sentence.

“Come for me, love,” he growls in my ear, “I want to feel you come for me.”

His words send me over the edge and I’m falling into another orgasm. I cry out loud, a mix of screams and moans fall from my lips as my orgasm rips through my body. My walls tighten around him and he hisses in response. I keep falling, holding on to my orgasm for as long as I can. My toes curl and I pull back on his ivory curls, eliciting a growl from the depths of his core.

“Gods below,” he growls as I tighten around his thick cock. His thrusts slow as my orgasm subsides. Before I can catch my breath he flips me over onto my hands and knees

I breathe heavily, panting uncontrollably, my body spasming in the aftermath of my release. Before I have time to think, he enters me once again, the new position filling me with unadulterated pleasure.

Astarion grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls me to his chest, arching my back to an ungodly degree. He clasps to my neck and pierces my throat once again with his sharp fangs. The pain lances through me and the pleasure I receive from the pain is worth it. He starts to drink my sweet blood once again while thrusting in and out of my pussy. I meet his thrusts with my hips, and the force ripples through my body–my ass bouncing gracefully against his hips.

I ride his cock until I can no longer see. My life’s essence slips from my body and the accompanying delirium empties my mind from all the worries from earlier. I cry against his punishing pace. He pulls away from my throat once again and growls in my ear, “You are invigorating, you know that?”

I nod helplessly, unable to focus on anything but the way he stretches me out and hits my sweet spot. I cry out, his sweet words egging me on.

“I think you deserve to come one more time,” he snarls in my ear, pulling on my hair just a bit harder until my back can arch no further. He continues to fuck up and into me, his thrusts becoming faster than anything I’ve ever experienced. I nod my head pathetically.

“Please,” I beg.

His powerful hips rail into me over and over again and I fall deeper and deeper into his rough embrace. His tongue drags up the back of my neck sending shivers down my spine. He sucks and kisses the back of my neck adding another layer of pleausre.

“Fall apart,” he growls deeply in my ear. It is the only thing I care to hear. I come undone around him all over again. His thrusts become sloppier, and he pounds into me quicker and quicker until he is falling with me.

“Yes,” I cry, “Come for me Astarion,” I whimper. He unloads himself inside me, his panting is the only thing I hear as I fall apart with him. Pleasure ripples through our bodies–our collective ecstasy is the only thing that matters at this moment.

He continues to pump into me until he has spilled all of his spent. My orgasm subsides and he falls on top of me, pinning me to the ground.

We breathe harder, waiting to come back down to Faerun. His body moves in time with mine and I savor the aftermath of my orgasm. I shall never come down from the heavens after that.

Once we have collected our strength, he pulls himself out of me and rolls over onto his back near the fire. I roll over onto my side and memorize his features as he looks up at the sky, a look of satisfaction paints his features.

He turns to me and smiles, his guard completely down and I have never seen anything quite so beautiful, “That was… amazing,” he breathes, licking some of the blood from the corner of his mouth with his tongue.

“I–” I can’t seem to gather the words I want to say, “Thank you,” I finally amend.

He rolls to his side and faces me, tracing small circles into my skin with his cool fingertips, “Thank you,” he whispers. And for a fleeting moment, I wonder what he is thanking me for. I smile in response, not wanting to ruin the moment with my questions.

He reaches forward and tucks some hair behind my ear, his knuckles grazing my cheekbone in the process.

“I–I want you to know,” he says softly, his hand never leaving the side of my face, “I’m glad you’re here. With me. I don’t think I want to be in a world without you,” he smiles softly, “Whatever that may look like.”

I smile shyly, “I’m glad I’m here too. Thank you… for everything.”

He wraps an arm around my midsection and pulls me to him until both his arms are wrapped around me securely. He places a gentle kiss on my temple. I turn my head and plant a soft kiss on his lips.

“Don’t let go until the morning,” I whisper. My smile is gone, but admiration still takes over my features. My savior. My hero. He saved my life in more ways than one. I’m excited to see where things take us. While the future is not set in stone, I have a feeling I’ll be able to get through anything with him by my side.

“I won’t,” he whispers before kissing me softly. “Promise me,” he begins, “Promise me that you will find me the next time you feel like death is your only option.”

“I swear,” I whisper. “Promise me you will open up to me as well… Whenever you’re ready.” I can tell that something weighs heavy on his soul, and I never want him to feel the depth of loneliness I felt.

He chuckles, “I save you…and you save me.” The statement is a promise. I smile knowing that this is the start of a beautiful relationship. I let him squeeze me in his strong embrace until we both drift off to sleep, relieved to have distracted ourselves from the painful reality that awaits us on the morrow.

[in-amor-veritas]

Hi! For spotify drabbles, whichever strikes your fancy the most:

7, 17, 87

87!

Thanks for sending a request 🥹💕

You got

July: Noah Cyrus (ft. Leon Bridges)

this song is kind of perfect for fighting wilmon fjdjdhdjdd so have a quick little unedited angsty s3 post birthday/breakup scene 😭

Simon’s phone lights up in the dark of his bedroom, casting pale blue shadows on the ceiling and onto the walls. It buzzes again, but he hesitates, afraid to reach for it and see what could be there.

Lying on his side, Simon stares steadfastly at the wall, trying to ignore the twisting in his stomach as the room goes dark again.

From somewhere in the house he hears the clock, faintly chiming. Twelve strikes. Midnight.

It’s no longer Wille’s birthday.

Thinking of Wille makes the twisting in his stomach unbearable, roiling and sick as he’s suddenly unable to push the memory of his swollen tear streaked face staring into Simon’s eyes in disbelief. He had looked so lost, so hurt and abandoned and Simon feels so guilty because he did that. He had abandoned him.

There’s the self preserving voice of reason that rejects that deep inside, that reasons that it was what he had to do, it was what was best. Logically he knows this, had seen just how broken and ripped apart Wilhelm and his family was because of the confines of their lives, how deep it had gone and he had known he couldn’t allow himself to be pulled in.

He couldn’t sacrifice himself willingly, couldn’t pretend he wasn’t in danger when the house was burning around him.

Simon can’t save Wille. He tried to do everything right and it still had suffocated him. He couldn’t save Wille when he himself was already drowning, when Wille is a time bomb waiting to go off.

Yes he knows deep down it was the right thing for himself.

But it feels—

It feels like he had been the one to personally sign the execution order. It feels like he had taken Wilhelm’s fragile heart and crushed it in his own hands, blood and muscle and sinew alike.

It feels like he’s left him locked away in that dark cavernous palace without a soul to listen to him or care. Alone and unloved and unwanted.

Simon wasn’t sure he had tears left in him to cry but he’s not surprised by the new onslaught. Turning into his pillow to try and keep them muffled and not alert his mother he cries curling into himself as tightly as possible, letting the waves of guilt and nausea wash over him again and again.

He loves Wilhelm. Simon loves him so much, he doesn’t have enough space in his body for all the love he has for him—but love isn’t enough. And it hurts. Love hurts more than he could ever imagine.

There’s nothing more that he wants in the entire world than to storm the palace, pull Wilhelm out from that place and take him somewhere far far away where no one will ever find them. There’s nothing more that he wants than for Wilhelm to know how loved he is. How wanted.

But Wilhelm’s at the epicenter of a raging storm and he can’t see the exit, he can’t see how the winds and the rains will eventually tear them all to shreds, he can’t see that it already has.

There’s so much he wants for Wilhelm so many things he needs to tell him, to thank him for. He doesn’t know how to say them all but somewhere between his crying and the time stretching by he starts to tuck them away, carefully like the precious things they are.

Eventually, Simon sits up, wipes his eyes and reaches for his notepad, the melody caught in his throat, the paper blurry through his cried out eyesight.

There’s so much he wants Wilhelm to know.

[privatepixiestrove]

A Home Within Shadows

This is a quick, family and resilience fanfiction about Rolan from BG3 Nothing spicy, just a moment of peace for once.

The view from the window was abhorrent. Nothing but warped darkness spanning further than he cared to let his thoughts linger on. But he couldn’t help as his mind wandered back to it. Just yesterday he was out there, adrift amongst the shadows, so blinded by his desperation to rescue his siblings that he refused to see just how in over his own head he was. Nowhere felt safe, but he had managed to make matters worse when he stumbled into a swarm of those demented shadows, holding them off only just barely. Until they had arrived.

The alluring strum of a lute drew his attention back inward to the bustling sounds of the inn. The mood was nothing if not somber, a gray cloud had seemed to seep in and saturated the survivors with a melancholy so deep it would stain their thoughts and memories for the rest of their lives. They were alive for now, but how long until those shadows breached their tiny slice of salvation?

Rolan’s siblings had tucked themselves into a corner nearby. They had been rescued, but it wasn’t because of him. He had been so focused on saving the children, it wasn’t until he heard Lia’s screams dissipate into the darkness that he even knew they had been seized by the cultists. It wasn’t until he had made it into Last Light Inn that he even uttered a word. Drinking to excess, hoping that anyone close enough would assume it was his beer furiously sloshing around in his tankard and not tears rolling down his cheeks.

By the time the adventurers had arrived once again to ‘save the day’ he was dangerously intoxicated. Riddled to the brim with guilt and grief, pouring over and taking it all out on anyone within an ear shot. Desperate, he thought. You’re always so desperate without a damn plan to do anything about it, you fool.

Even the children sat in silence now, circled around the bard to listen to her tune. She was normally the expert at bringing a smile to their faces, but even a light as bright as her was dimmed by the curse. As quickly as the lute began its next cheerful tune, Alfira struck a sour note, causing him to furrow his brows.

A flash of light had illuminated the entire room, causing every occupant to look toward him. He straightened his posture out of some strange sense of duty or responsibility, but they were looking past him, out into that endless blackness. Or, at least, what had been endless. Rolan snapped his attention back out the window to stare at something altogether new.  A beam of silver light shot through the sky like a comet, dodging its way through the stars like a persistent battleship on a rough ocean.

They did it.

He thought he had spoken those words aloud, but the air had been sucked from his lungs, perhaps sucked from the room all together as the awed silence remained. His jaw slacked as he watched the beam of light continue past the inn, through the dreaded lands of rot and decay, straight for Moonrise Towers.

They did it.

Like a great thunderous wave, every single person found their way to a window, or ran out the front door, watching that same streak of light. Some began to cheer while others immediately began drumming up a plan to go and assist at the towers. But Rolan just sat there, bathing in the radiance of whatever that was, but more so, he was overcome with a warmth that spread from his chest up into his cheeks, down into his stomach, wiggling its way down to his toes. His cheek twitched as his lips came up into the slightest grin. He stretched his fingers before lifting one hand to support his chin, continuing to stare almost obsessively into the light.

Among the cheers and scheming that had quickly filled the room, Rolan didn’t hear as Cal and Lia walked over, each of them wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He froze, that small grin still plastered on his face, his eyes not moving from the sky, but he felt his shoulders relax, his entire body releasing the tension it had bottled up. His own arms came up to wrap around each of his siblings, drawing them even closer to him.

This was home. Even as they ran from darkness, huddled in this inn with only a thin shield of light to protect them from the shadows. No, they hadn’t made it to Baldur’s Gate yet, they didn’t have a house, or any type of roof over their heads to call their own. But it was there, wrapped in their arms, watching as that single burst of hope streaked the night sky with light, the rot and decay somehow bubbling back to life in its wake, this was truly home.

[eveandtheturtles]

Twisted Turtles Scenarios

Hello! So I was talking with @tinkabelle19 and somehow my brain spawned these absolutely Murphy's Law scenario. So here are these Bayverse What If situations where things don't go well for the turtles. You can use these scenarios for fics or art just tag me as the creator of the idea ;)

Tagging: @m1dnyt3-w0lf @thelaundrybitch @raphsmuneca @madammuffins @sharpwindow @pheradream-15 @leosgirl82 @kikithedreamerwriter @fyreball66 @dilucsflame33

General TW: Character Deaths in many different ways. Enjoy!

Raph - Fallen Protector

After Splinter dies defeated by Shredder Raph and April were too late to save Leo, Donnie and Mikey from Sacks. Enraged by that with the help of the humans Raph barely manages to have his revenge. He takes down Shredder but he can't stop the virus' spread. To make up for his failure, he gives April some of his blood so that the antidote can still be made.

Unfortunately, New York takes the hardest hit from Sack's virus, turning the city into a war zone with resources being scarce. Raph tries to fight the good fight, following his father's teachings but he's no Splinter nor Leo. He can't patch himself or fix things like Donnie with his tech, nor does he have the optimistic nature of Mikey. April and Vern eventually die on duty. Raph is alone. Abandoning the way of ninja Raph joins an underground fighting ring, occassionally doubling as a bodyguard for shady 'business men'.

"What's the point of protecting if there's no one left to protect..."

Mikey - Driven By Guilt

Splinter dies in the attack. Raph stands his ground against Shredder and falls. And when time came to test Mikey the rope slipped right through his hands on that snowy cliff and Leo, Verne and April plummeted to the ground below.

He and Donnie still got to the Sacks Tower. Sacks makes his antidote but the virus is stopped thanks to Donnie. The two barely stop Shredder thanks to Donnie's quick thinking and Mikey's luck and skill. Unfortunately, Donnie takes great damage from the fight. His ninja days are over and eventually transfers his mind to a computer.

Guilt drives Mikey to push himself but he can't stop hearing the voices of Leo, Splinter and Raph in his head, often blaming him for their deaths. For his blunders and mistakes.

Donnie tries to help, support his little brother but there's not much he can do now as merely a program.

Mikey gets more and more violent, sometimes his mind more stuck in the past than present, no matter how much Donnie tries. That light and glue that once held the family together has dimmed and inevitable is falling apart.

"I will never let go, not again..."

Donnie - Mad Genius

tw. substance abuse mention and torture. sorta.

Shredder didn't leave Raph behind. Sacks was smarter. The turtles were going to be kept by the billionaire as permanent guinea pigs to be their infinite mutagene supply. Leo and Raph were too prideful for that, they tried to escape but the escape plan failed, costing them their lives. Mikey, depressed with the two elder brothers' death and their treatment from humans slowly but surely faded away. He wasn't strong enough to stand all the chemical substances pumped into their bodies 24/7 nor the frequent operations.

But Donnie... Donnie had his mind and will. He knew if he waited long enough there would be an opportunity. While he bid his time, his grief and slowly building up hatered for humans were splintering and twisting his brilliant mind.

After the assault on the turtle lair, April survived, but no one would believe her and Sacks had money - the ultimate power in the human world, making her persona non grata anywhere she went. But she persisted. She managed to somehow get in contact with Donnie and plan an escape for him, although it hit her hard to hear the other three didn't make it.

During the escape something went wrong, or so April thought watching the entire Sacks facility explode but she didn't miss the twisted satisfaction on Donnie's face. Afterwards Donnie retreated underground.

She tried to reach out and comfort him but Donnie didn't reciprocate. His fevered mind was now addicted to two things - revenge and various chemical compounds his body got dependant on in Sack's captivity. He shut her down and cut all contact.

A while later, in utter shock April could watch on the TV screen the newest villain tearing the city apart like Shredder never could.

"I may be mad but who's fault is that."

Leo - Failed Leader

The mission in Brazil went as bad as it could. Leo shouldn't have jumped after Donnie, he should have waited for Raph. The fight with Rocksteady and Bebop went so wrong. He still could see Donnie getting hit with that missle from the tank. He barely saved Mikey.

They both got stuck in the jungle. Adapting was difficult, he had no doubt April would try to reach them only they had no tech... Mikey tried to cheer him up. Follow whatever he said, clinging to his eldest brother after losing the other two but eventually Leo's control became too much. After an argument Mikey went on his own.

It was a damn lucky poacher who got his shot in before Leo got there. Too late. Burying his youngest brother Leo decided the world didn't need him. He was alone. He failed.

Just how much he learned soon enough after the Technodrome hovered over the Southern America.

".....there's nothing left to say..."

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Hey, can we talk about how Weiss is the luckiest Member of RWBYJNPR?

Just real Quick?

Like no one should compare traumas, it's not a competition. But. like.

Weiss has suffered the least of them all? But was somehow also the worst of them in the beginning?

Because She had

Abusive father

absent, alcoholic mother

threat of being attacked because of her name

Has a scar over one eye, doesn't show signs of impairment

And then she got better as a person and personally suffered

Forced 'home' by evil father

getting kidnapped

getting stabbed with a spear

...

Home literally falls into the water

Watched her team fall into the void.

Ever After shenaningans?

That's it.

That's all her own personal suffering, and for a lot of that she had friends and family, like Klein or Winter, or RWBY! She even left WHitley alone when she was young, clinging to winter!

Compared to;

Ruby

Mom presumed dead

Dad was depressed

uncle was alcoholic

Raised mostly by sister

entered into a combat school early (This one IS negative for her)

Jumped into and active cannon

hunted for her eyes

watched a friend die in front of her. Like. Four times, even if one was a mouse and the other was an illusion

Watched Yang Take a hit and Fall into the coid, assumed she was dead.

a friend that came back to life died to another friend

feels the weight of the world is on her shoulders

LITERALLY ATTEMPTED SUICIDE

Yang

abandoned by mother

step mom presumed dead

father was horribly depressed

uncle was an alcolholic

had to raise sister

lost arm

abandoned by partner and sister.

Had to kill to survive

Self sacrificial tendencies.

Watched Sister she had raised attempt to Commit suicide

so yeah she's got abandonment issues

Blake

Is a minority, suffers from peoples racism.

Abusive, genocidal ex-boyfriend

Said Ex attempted to murder her and Yang, forcing them to kill him instead.

More Racism

Watched the woman she loved sacrifice herself.

AND JNPR

Jaune

His parents actively kept him from pursuing his dream

Criminally negligent, literally didn't know the basics of Hunting

Given Terrible romantic advice by dad

bullied, blackmailed, beat down on.

constantly belittled and denied by his crush (I don't blame weiss for saying no, but it still hurt him)

First person to believe in him Kissed him, Didn't believe in him, ran off to her death.

Suffered severe imposter syndrome and survivors guilt, along with depression and suicidal thoughts

never felt good enough

Nearly got Weiss killed because of Cinder

Took anger out on oscar, Regretted it

Nearly got his team killed because they agreed with his plan to steal an airship

Neo beat up his team! Stole the Relic of Knowledge!

Watched so many of his Friends fall into the Void

had to assist in a Friend's suicide

Family Sword (And therefore legacy) Broke

LEFT BEHIND BY WINTER, WHO COULD HAVE VERY EASILY SAVED HIM.

Lost in a Goddamn fairytale world for a decade or two, alone. on a beach. ALONE.

Drank poison because that's what the story said to do. Couldn't even fucking die right.

The Paper pleasers. Just everything with the paper pleasers

His friends, once reunited with him, thought he had gone insane (He kinda had lost it, but really who wouldn't have?) and They didn't believe him. That hurt.

Pyrrha and Penny Illusion by NeoCat

Damn Jaune really is the Spider-man of RWBY, isn't he. His story is fucking sorrowful.

Pyrrha

Put on a pedestal above her Peers, very lonely

Object of affection focused on someone else

Given a nonchoice to protect people.

Fucking Died. Has remained dead. haunts the narrative.

Ren

parents died

lived on the road most of his life

His power is literally emotional repression

only had Nora

Lost his new family in the Void.

Nora

presumably never had a dad

abandoned by Mother

Lived on the road

only had Ren

That Shock-Force-Field thing in Atlas, left with permanent scarring.

Family Fell into the Void.

So, like. Can Weiss spread the wealth a little bit? In terms of luck?

The rest of them could probably really use it.

OF COURSE

None of this is to say Weiss Hasn't Suffered, she really has suffered in her own ways.

But like.

Not as much as any one other individual in her group.