#until then I still feel like I have a duty to uphold here

[simpotat]

Feeling very vulnerable about my AU lately

[mechaknight-98]

Apprehension (NSFW) FT Hanni

Author’s note: A request I finally found time to finish up. Same world as The Momo fic.

You had heard about the wondrous healing properties that Priesteses of Amora had but were unsure of them until you decided to visit one.

Your approach is patient but labored. As you hobble into the monastery the first Priestess approaches you. She has long jet-black hair big amorous eyes and plump lips she smiles at you.

The white-garbed Priestess begins to speak to you, "Hello Traveler you look weary. How may I help you?" you breathe in and swallow your pride.

"I came to your Monastery for healing as it's reported that this is the best in the land," you say. The Priestess smiles before letting you in. You follow her steadied by your walking stick that has accompanied you on many journeys. As you enter the monastery you begin to see others in various states of harm and duress being attended to by women, of all ages and sizes. this puts you at ease as you follow the priestes.

she turns to you as you walk and she slows down.

"Tell me about yourself. I can see you carry a great burden, but what else ails you?"

You feel compelled to tell her the truth as is magically influenced, "I am a warrior blessed by Ira but when I was tasked with hunting the one we call the 7-eyed serpent. I failed as his attack broke my body and left me pallid and in squalor. So I have been trying to undo his damage but as you can see. the damage he has done has been irrecoverable. I came here as my last resort," you explain as you make eye contact with the priestess. She frowns, then responds

"Well Wolf-blessed I am glad you came, and although I wished you came earlier we will still be able to mend you. After all who will save us from the devourer of gods?" the priest says to you calmly. You nod as she leads you into a room full of food and drink.

"Before we heal you we must know you. the easiest way to do so is by sharing a meal, and our names. Allow me to go first. My name is Hanni. what is yours wolf-blessed?"

"My name is Achilles." You say Hanni smiles as the two of you share a meal, and you begin to grow closer physically and emotionally.

"So Achilles tell me about your dreams?"

"Well I um," you stammer. Hanni looks at you with bright eyes and a soft heart. you ease in her presence.

"I wanted to be a Painter but for my family, I discarded my dreams to be a Knight. Despite the honor and wealth, it garnered my family. I still wish to spend my days painting, but with the Seven-eyed serpent on the loose, I can't." you explain.

As Hanni places a steaming bowl of stew in front of you, the rich aroma fills the air. The room is warm and inviting, with sunlight streaming through a small window, casting a gentle glow on the rustic wooden table.

you take a moment to savor the food, the flavors a comforting balm to your weary soul. you look up at Hanni, who is watching him intently, her eyes filled with curiosity and understanding.

"My family has always been dedicated to the path of the combatant," you begin, your voice soft yet resonant. "My father was a knight, as was his father before him. It was expected that I would follow in their footsteps, to uphold the family virtue and protect our lands."

Hanni nods, listening intently. "And yet, you wished to be a painter," she says gently, prompting him to continue.

"Yes," you admit, a wistful smile tugging at your lips. "Ever since I was a child, I found solace in art. The colors, the textures—they spoke to me in a way that the clang of swords never could. But my family... they saw painting as a frivolous pursuit, a distraction from duty."

Hanni tilts her head, her dark hair cascading over her shoulder like a waterfall. "I understand the weight of expectations," she says softly. "My family has served the goddess Amora for generations. My mother was a priestess, as was my grandmother. It was always assumed I would take up the mantle."

"Was it your choice?" you question, your curiosity piqued.

Hanni pauses, considering her words. "In a way, yes. I do find joy in healing others, and in bringing love and compassion into the world. But there are times when I wonder... what if I had chosen a different path? Something not laid out for me by tradition?"

your eyes meet, a shared understanding passing between them. In that moment, you are not just a priestess and a warrior, but two souls navigating the complexities of their own desires and responsibilities.

"You know," Hanni continues, her voice thoughtful, "our paths may be different, but they are not so dissimilar. Both of us have had to sacrifice parts of ourselves for the sake of others."

you nod slowly, absorbing her words. "It's true. Perhaps that's why I find it so easy to talk to you. You understand the struggle."

you both sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sound the gentle clinking of their spoons against the bowls. Then Hanni speaks again, her tone playful yet sincere.

"Maybe one day, when the threat of the Seven-eyed Serpent has passed, you can paint again," she suggests, her eyes twinkling with hope.

You chuckle, a lightness returning to your spirit. "And perhaps you will find a way to weave your own dreams into your duties here."

You share a smile, a bond forming between you that goes beyond words. As you two finish your meal, Hanni reaches out, taking your hand in hers.

"Whatever happens," she says softly, "know that you have a friend here, and perhaps even a partner in exploring what lies beyond our duties."

You squeeze her hand, gratitude and warmth flooding his heart. "Thank you, Hanni."

After sharing their dreams and struggles over the meal, Hanni leans back in her chair, her eyes reflecting a mix of admiration and curiosity. The afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the room, making the moment feel almost serene.

"Achilles," she begins, her voice gentle but inquisitive, "would you tell me about your encounter with the Seven-eyed Serpent? I can only imagine the courage it must have taken to face such a creature."

Achilles hesitates the memories of the battle flooding back with vivid intensity. He takes a deep breath, his expression shifting to one of solemn reflection.

"He was unlike anything I had ever faced," you start, your voice steady but tinged with an edge of lingering awe.

Hanni's eyes widened as she asked, "The Seven-Eyed Serpent is a man?"

"I think so, or maybe a malevolent spirit possessing an armor.," You explain. Hanni's eyes widened in shock as you continue

"The Seven-eyed Serpent... it was as if I was confronting a force of nature itself. The sheer size of it was overwhelming, and its eyes—each one held a different kind of malice, a different shade of intent." Hanni listens, captivated, as you continue, gesturing with your hands as if painting the scene before her.

"The battle was one-sided from the start," you explain. "We were a band of skilled warriors, but even our combined strength felt like a drop in the ocean against the Serpent's might. It struck with the force of a thousand dragons, each blow like a tempest of destruction."

You pause, as your gaze grows distant as if reliving the moment. "Its scales were harder than the toughest armor, its breath like fire. We were outmatched, and I knew it. But we fought with everything we had, driven by the hope that our courage might be enough."

Hanni leans in, her eyes wide with empathy and respect. "And yet, you survived. You faced the Serpent and lived to tell the tale."

You nod, a faint smile touching your lips despite the somberness of the memory. "Barely. Its attack shattered my defenses and left me broken. But in that moment, as I lay there, I realized that survival sometimes means more than just enduring the physical battle. It means learning from defeat, finding strength in vulnerability."

Hanni reaches across the table, her hand resting on your arm, offering comfort and solidarity. She notices the scars, and damage still present in the limb ."Your bravery is undeniable, Achilles. And your journey is far from over. Perhaps here, at the monastery, you'll find the healing you seek—not just for your body, but for your spirit as well."

as Hanni finishes smiles and says, “I like you and I think I’ll take you on Achilles,” she inches closer to you

Hanni smiled at you as she cradled your face in her hands. The softness put you at ease as she kissed your forehead.

“You’re safe with me Achilles.” She says bringing you close to her chest. You feel the room begin to heat up with magic energy and it stirs a fire within you of desire and want. Hanni breaks her embrace as you look into her eyes. The soft pools of the brown team with a desire for you as she begins to kiss you. She traces over your body as magic wraps around you mending unhealed tendons, bones, and cartilage. When you break the kiss Hanni smiles.

“Take me Achilles.” She says. You smile before kissing her again her lips are puffy but sweet. They remind you of pastries from your home island. Her tongue swirls and tastes you as the kiss deepens. You moan distracted as she has her way with you. She disrobes you first before placing your hands on her chest. You massage her clothed chest mesmerized by it. "Oh yes, Baby keep going Hanni moans as she removes her bottom robes. She gives you a lurid look as she impales herself on your cock

“Oh my, your sword is so big!” Hanni exclaims as she takes you in you smile as you pick her up and rut into her. Drinking off arousal Hanni moans as she does you notice more of your wounds healing. Hanni smiles. “This is the power of Amora. Each priestess of hers is granted a partner for life.” Hanni explains. You laugh as you thrust. Hanni stifles a moan by pouring.

“Why are you laughing?” She asks annoyed.

You laugh saying, “So you’re saying we’re wedded now?”

Hanni connects the dots and says, “I guess you’re right. We are!” She moans as your cock continues to ravage her.

“So as my wife what do you want to do after this for our honeymoon,” you ask.

Hanni smiles and says “A retreat where they can’t find us. Where we do whatever we want?” Hanni says as her walls clench on you tighter and tighter.

“I’d like that.” You say as you cum inside of her. Hanni moans reaching her high as you continue to fuck her through her orgasm.

Weeks later

The afternoon sun poured through the tall windows of their secluded villa, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. The gentle sound of waves lapping at the shore outside provided a soothing backdrop, a perfect harmony to the tranquil setting within.

Hanni sat comfortably on a chaise lounge, her posture relaxed and graceful, her gaze fixed on the horizon. She wore a simple, flowing gown, its light fabric moving softly with the breeze that drifted in from the open window. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, catching the sunlight and framing her face with an ethereal glow.

Across the room, you stood before a canvas, his brush moving deftly, capturing the essence of the scene before you. Your eyes flicked back and forth between Hanni and the painting, your concentration evident in the furrow of your brow and the slight curve of your lips as you worked.

“You make it look so effortless,” Hanni remarked, her voice gentle and filled with admiration.

You paused, your gaze meeting hers with a tender smile. “It’s easy when the subject is as captivating as you,” you replied, your words sincere and filled with affection.

Hanni blushed, a soft pink tinting her cheeks. “I never imagined I’d be a muse,” she said, her tone playful yet touched by genuine wonder.

You chuckled softly, returning focus to the canvas. “You’ve always been my muse, Hanni. Even before I realized it.”

As you painted, the room seemed to hold its breath, time stretching as the two of you became lost in the moment. The sound of the sea, the warmth of the sun, and the gentle rustling of the curtains created a cocoon of peace around them, a world that existed only for you.

After some time, you stepped back from the easel, assessing your work with a critical eye before nodding with satisfaction. “Done,” you declared, wiping your hands on a cloth.

Hanni rose from her seat and crossed the room to stand beside you, her eyes widening as she took in the painting. It captured not only her likeness but the essence of the moment—the serenity, the love, and the subtle magic of their honeymoon.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, turning to you with tears of happiness glistening in her eyes.

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close. “Just like you,” you murmured, kissing the top of her head.

Together, you stood in silence, wrapped in each other’s embrace, content in the knowledge that this was only the beginning of their journey together—a journey filled with art, love, and countless moments of shared wonder.

[mrs5sn0w]

Serenade of Shadows

I : A Dance of Shadows -> II : Whisper of Deceit -> A Symphony of Heartbreak-> IV : Fractured Reflections -> V : Shadows of Allegiance -> VI : Echoes of Decent

Series Masterlist

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

warnings: Arranged marriage, MILD ANGST, unrequited love, friends to enemies, enemies to lovers

Reader's surname : Flare

Time frame : Before, during and after tbosbas

synopsis: In the events of Panem's political dynamics and the 10th annual Hunger Games, Coriolanus Snow and her find themselves entwined. Standing at the brink of an enforced union, 6 years later, their mutual trust unravels amidst a damaging misinterpretation, prompting Coriolanus to believe the wrong. As the glacial barriers guarding his emotions begin to melt, a revelation of profound feelings unfolds, initiating a sprint against time for redemption.

The grandeur of the Capitol unfolded like a tapestry of opulence on the day Coriolanus Snow and her were bound in matrimony. The air was heavy with the scent of roses, and the opulent venue shimmered in the soft glow of chandeliers. The Capitol's elite had gathered to witness the union of the President of Panem and the Flare family, one of the most prestigious families in the whole Panem, their wedding was a spectacle that rivaled the most extravagant of royal weddings.

As she walked down the aisle in her resplendent gown, a vision of ethereal beauty, the weight of the ornate veil seemed to mirror the heavy burden on her heart. Coriolanus, standing at the altar in a meticulously tailored suit, wore a mask of composure that hid the turbulent emotions within.

He did not want to be there. He does not want to marry her.

The ceremony unfolded like a symphony of obligations, the vows echoing through the grand hall as if scripted by Capitol decree. Her eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, met with his cold and indifferent eyes. The congregation, unaware of the loveless undertones, erupted in applause as the Capitol celebrated the union of the two.

As the reception commenced, Snow and her navigated the intricate dance of social formalities. In front of the Capitol's watchful eyes, they exchanged pleasantries and smiled for the cameras, their every move orchestrated like pieces on a strategic board.

In a quiet corner, away from the prying eyes, she summoned a smile that barely concealed the turmoil within.

"Corio-"

"It's Snow." He reminded her not to call him by what she called him years ago.

"Snow, we are the talk of the Capitol today," she remarked, her voice carrying a hint of wistfulness.

He nodded curtly, his gaze fixed on the swirling dancers. "It's expected. our union of significance, a merging of legacies."

A fragile smile played on her lips while Coriolanus' eyes remained impassive, a fortress against the vulnerability she tried to breach.

"Sentimentality has no place in our world. Our duty is to uphold the Capitol's ideals. I'm just doing my duty by marrying you."

He then continued

"Don't get ahead of yourself if you think you can have a chance. Everyone may have forgotten what you did, but not me."

"Cor- Snow, I did what I had to do, to protect you-"

"protect me ?" He scoffed

"The only protection you did was throw my future away"

"But you're here now" she argued

"You still did it to me. It will never change." he demanded

He still believes that she did it.

but until this very day, he did not know the whole truth of what she did.

As the night wore on, the facade of marital bliss cracked in the shadows. She resplendent in her gown, felt the weight of isolation. She approached Coriolanus with a delicate grace, her eyes seeking a connection amidst the artifice.

The reception continued, a lavish display of decadence, but in the hidden recesses of their shared existence, the echoes of unspoken pain reverberated. She was once Coriolanus Snow's closest classmates, and she found herself as a stranger in his indifferent world.

"Snow," she began, her voice tinged with both sadness and defiance,

"do you ever wonder what our lives could have been if things were different?"

He looked at her, the coldness in his eyes softened by the moon's gentle caress. "Wondering is a futile endeavor. Our reality is the only truth we know."

"The only thing i wished to be different is that I didn't have to marry someone like you"

"Anyone but you"

Before she could respond, the distant strains of music heralded their return to the festivities. The grandeur of their wedding, an illusion of splendor, concealed the fractured emotions beneath the surface.

As the night waned and the Capitol reveled in the spectacle, Coriolanus Snow and his wife danced through the shadows of their union, a poignant duet of obligation and unspoken regret.

Snow's wife would always remember this day as the day she gave her life up to be stuck in a loveless marriage.

It didn't matter to her, as long as she was married to the person she loves even when he hates her with every beat of his heart.

[queenvhagar]

"I thought I wanted it. But the burden is a heavy one. It's too heavy. If you wish me to bear it then defend me. And my children."

I wonder what burden she feels she's holding at this moment. We know that she isn't speaking of the burden of ruling and managing the realm for the last several years while her father was sick, because while she was on Dragonstone, those duties fell to the Hand and the Queen. As far as the show tells us, Rhaenyra has no specific duties she's fulfilling as heir, nor has she been doing anything in particular to prepare to rule. We're not shown that she's doing anything with her time beyond anything beyond managing Dragonstone with Daemon and growing her family. So what exactly in her life at this moment is she seeing as this massive burden that she bears because she's heir to the throne?

I think the burden she's speaking of here is actually the pressure she's feeling as she's finally being faced with the idea that her father won't always be around to help her avoid the consequences of her actions. So even though it's obvious that he's on the edge of death, in immense pain, barely hanging on, and despite the fact that she hasn't visited him at this point in literal years despite knowing about his ailing health and she's done nothing to support him in ruling in his last years, she still feels entitled enough to demand that he do another massive favor for her. At this point, Rhaenyra has been enabled by her father for so many years that she doesn't know how to solve a problem without him. So she plays the heir card on Viserys to get him to defend her one more time: if you want me to be queen, and you don't want me to be held accountable and face consequences, help me get away with it one more time.

Rhaenyra is upset not because of any real burden she has as heir but because she feels like the walls are closing in and she's under attack. I would feel some sympathy for her if it weren't for the fact that she wouldn't be in this situation if she'd made better choices. If literally anyone else in the realm had obvious bastards they were using to usurp a seat of power, there would be huge consequences. Rhaenyra knows this and is doing it anyway because she thinks her position as heir to the throne gives her the power to be able to do it and get away with it. Her birthright as a Targaryen says she deserves absolute power because she's better than other people, so she can do no wrong and nobody can say otherwise to her. She believes she's clever enough to pass the deception, and otherwise her father can punish anyone who speaks up... until Vaemond goes to court, and her father is not there to blankly support her no matter what. Now, she's faced with people who intend to uphold the law of the land and she's upset that she might actually be confronted with her problems head on and not have someone to shield her this time.

[one-idea]

(reverse strawhats au)

POSSIBLE DRESSROSA SABO SPOILERS FOR YOU

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would sabo get Luffy's devil fruit since hes the one dying now?

Hello!!!

I’m in thriller bark but I’ve had a lot spoiled already.

Originally I had like three ideas which I talked about here

Then I continued with the idea in full here

But it comes down to the idea that Sabo does save Luffy’s fruit from the colosseum thing. But he doesn’t eat it right away.

In this world he was at Marineford, (which is talked about here and continued here) and he has a lot of guilt over not saving Luffy. Even after meeting up with Ace and talking everything out, he still doesn’t feel worthy of Luffy’s fruit.

So Ace stores it on their boat for the time being.

Until the met up with Luffy (cannon Luffy gets to come to this world and see his brothers)

They have a lot of talks and in one of them Luffy finds out they hid his fruit and that Sabo doesn’t feel worth of it, and basically slaps the heck out of him, because what do you mean you’re not worthy. You’re my brother! There’s no one else I’d want to have it!

So Sabo does eat it eventually but he needs some reassurance that it’s okay. Plus it give us a great training montage of Sabo learning from Luffy how to use the Gomu Gomu no Mi.

I like to think he throws a punch and it bounces back and hits him in the face and Ace is just sitting there dying of laughter. (There’s no way he’s missing this. He’s spending all the time he can with Luffy, plus he’s their sparing partner, he also wants to laugh at all of Sabo’s horrible fails)

Luffy teaches Sabo how to unlock Joyboy. And this is the heart of why I made him wait. Sabo would feel the drums of liberation and go full revolutionary. He’s still ‘Nika’ and ‘Joyboy’ but it’s far more manic than Luffy. If he had straight eaten the fruit I don’t think he would have found true joy in using it. It would have been a duty to Luffy to uphold his legacy/fruit then upon discovering what the fruit was it would be duty to the rev army/world to liberate those in slaved. But I don’t think the powers work without the user feeling true joy.

By trading with Luffy he’s not weighed down by his guilt and duty. It’s the first time since they were kids that they can train and laugh together and he feels more free than he has in years. When he unlocks Joyboy it’s because he truely feels joy being with his brothers. Being free.

[kristeristerin]

There’s not enough Tarquin content here so I was wondering if I could send in Tarquin x reader to Mary’s Song (Oh My My My) by Taylor Swift as a prompt for the drabbles you’re planning on writing? Thanks!

AN: Thank you so much for the ask! Tarquin is a character that I may not have chosen to do on my own, but after writing him I feel like I need to explore more with him! I hope you feel like I did him justice!

As Always my asks are open for more Taylor Swift song and ACOTAR pairings! (I'll take other requests too of course!)

Song: Mary’s Song (Oh My My My)

Pairing: Reader X Tarquin

Content Warning: None

Words: 860

Your hands were shaking as you looked around the Summer Palace. This was your first time returning to Adriata in over 50 years and while coming back home should feel like a happy occurrence, you can’t help but worry about seeing him again. 

When you last saw Tarquin he’d just been the prince of Udrin, and the man you’d loved since you were children. Now though, you supposed, things would be different. While you could convince yourself that love would have been enough for the two of you when he was a prince, High Lords have a duty to uphold and marriage to a lesser fae was not part of that. 

Varian gave you a tight smile as he held out an arm to you, “He’s been asking for you. Are you ready?” 

“I’m not certain I’ll ever be ready to face him if I’m being honest,” you looked away from the Prince’s eyes as he led you through the palace hallways. Your eyebrows draw together when Varian turns not toward the High Lord’s study, but instead toward the doors leading to the back garden. 

“He’s out there waiting for you,” Varian drops your arm and gives you a gentle push toward the doors. 

When you step outside he’s facing away from you, instead choosing to look out at the ocean beyond the city. You are several feet away from him when you stop and drop into a low curtsy. “You wanted to see me, High Lord?” 

You hear him turn, but you don’t dare look up. 

“Y/N,” Tarquin laughs, “Surely you know we are far past these formalities. We’ve known each other since childhood after all.” 

You rise but still don’t look him in the eyes. “I’ve never known you as High Lord, though.” 

He steps forward and runs his hand through your hair, using it to gently raise your gaze to his, “I’d like you to.” He whispers before his lips brush yours in a gentle kiss. He steps away but grabs your hand before you can mourn the loss of his touch. “Come with me, I wish to show you something.” 

He led you further into the garden to the all too familiar tree. 

“Do you remember when we first met?” He asked as he pulled you closer and wrapped an arm around you. 

You laugh at the memory. “I wanted Cressida and Varian to like me so bad. I followed them out here to meet their cousin, and you hated me. I believe you even threatened to throw me into the ocean that day.” 

He looked away, biting his lip to contain his own laughter. “To be fair that wasn’t until after you had threatened to tell my mother that I wouldn’t be the Prince in your game of make-believe.” 

“Mmm, yes, and fitting punishment for my crime,” you pull away from his grip and approach the largest tree in the corner of the garden. You touch the small carving in the tree and turn to him. “Do you remember this?” you ask in a small voice. 

When he approaches you, Tarquin turns you toward the tree and wraps both of his arms around you. “Of course, I do,” his breath tickles the shell of your ear as he speaks. “This was the carving I made into the tree 9 years later when I finally agreed to be your prince. Nostrus was very cross with me for carving our initials into the tree.” 

Smiling at the memory you turn in his arms so you’re face to face. “I always hoped I’d be your princess.” You murmur looking at him through your lashes. 

Tarquin cupped your jaw and returned your smile, “Now I’m hoping you’ll agree to be the High Lord’s Lady. Perhaps not right away, but if you’ll let me court you again I know I can prove to you that we can have everything we once had, and so much more.” 

His smile falters as you begin to cry, “Have I said something wrong, my love?” 

“No,” you sniffle and then laugh at the horrid sound you made, “this is just unexpected. I thought you had asked me to join you here so you could tell me that we were through because a High Lord could never spend his life with a lesser fae.” 

“Y/N,” his voice cracked as he looked into your eyes, “There is nothing lesser about you. It’s the thought of you and the life that we could have together that got me through every day under that mountain. I’d be honored to be able to one day call you my wife, and our people would be better off with you at my side. Please, don’t think for a moment you're unworthy of anything, least of all me. I have loved you with all that I am since I was 18 years old, Y/N, and I will continue to do so for centuries more.” 

You lift a hand to his cheek and lean up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Tarquin, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us.” 

[your-local-hoemie]

ꕥgenshin impactꕥ boyfriend head-canons. Number 2 Liyue boogaloo~

The first one I did got so much attention like thank you so much, I’d die for you all ^^

No I didn’t put xiao first because I was too excited to write him and no I didn’t get carried away with his scenario. Shut up.

I’m still super busy, I kid you fucking not I’ve been trying to get fired but it isn’t working for some god damn reason and I’ve had like four hours sleep in total since my last request so I apologise if this is completely incoherent, I am rapidly becoming very unhinged <33

This was just for funsies and to keep me sane so I still apologise for not get to any requests at the moment :(

Summary: Just the Liyue boys as your S/O uwu

Warnings: fluff, swearing, established relationship, gn!reader, a little suggestive (childe), not proof-read.

Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, Childe (I know he’s from that Russian place I can’t spell for the life of me but shush).

I really wanted to do baizhu but I just pulled him and I wanna go through his story so I can really get his character traits, I’ll be doing my fruity baby in the future~

Xiao~

Oh my sweet baby

My boy

The man, the myth :(, the legend~

He’s the reason my standards are too high

Curse his pretty face

Absolutely oblivious before confessing

Everyone around him could tell how different he was around you

But no matter how much they mentioned it he’d just be like

“Adepti have no need for such feelings, you mortals have such foolish ideas and no respect”

Meanwhile he’s trying his best to stomach the cake you made him just because you made it for him

At first he genuinely thought you were kinda annoying lmao

Always being so nice to him and wouldn’t leave him alone

Only when you went away to Inazuma did he realise how much he grew accustomed to your strange daily rituals of bringing him qingxings that you picked yourself just to follow him around like a puppy

I actually don’t think he’d appreciate being given too much almond tofu

Even though he likes it better than any other food can you imagine being fed the same thing everyday non stop :/

Proceeded to ask his dad Zhongli for advice

He doesn’t understand why he feels all weird and tingly

Genuinely thinks it’s his karmic debt

Zhongli proceeds to be a shit and tell’s him to “find out on his own” for some kind of moral lesson or something idfk

When he accidentally brings it up with Goldet, things get fun

Well not really for him but for everyone else’s entertainment, yes

Even with exTREME reluctance he somehow gets roped into “how to express emotions 101” lessons

Has to practice having a full conversation with a scarecrow that Goldet ever so kindly dragged in for him :)

Embarrassed, Humiliated, overwhelmed

And yet still he persists for reasons unbeknownst to him

It isn’t until he overhears some rumours about a show down between the electro archon and a mortal that he realises he might like like you

That and the constant teasing and encouragement from Zhongli and Goldet

Boys distraught

First of all he can’t have feelings for someone

He’s just going to hurt you!

He has a duty to uphold!

Only after brooding to himself for a few days does he accept it

Take it slow with him please, he may be a demon killing yaksha but he’s so scared and paranoid

Red flags? Nah we colour blind here

When you get back from Inazuma it’s very clear that your patience is thin and energy being nonexistent

Fuck you tsurimi island I hope you burn

So seeing when returning to Wangsheng Inn to find the one person you’d be holding out to see after so long, not there and a letter left to you telling you to head to the top of gingyun peak

You were not happy to say the least

Thought it was another commission and almost didn’t go

Curiosity got the better tho and that’s where he awkwardly gave you his own qingxing flowers and a amusingly bad attempt at making your favourite food

Tries to hide how red he is

Seeing you cloaked in the moonlight, leaves and fireflies framing your pretty face~

Boys a mess~

He doesn’t even have to say anything, you just pull him in for a hug and after the initial shock of it he decides then and there that you’re now bound together <3

Rarely openly admits he loves you

Too scary

At least for the moment

He is a bird

So you know what that means?

Bird behaviour goobery activated~

Brings you flowers, pebbles, crystals and anything “pretty” he comes across during his day

Pda is a no unless you want him teleporting away and pouting for a good 48 hours because he got flustered

When you’re alone though he’s more open

Hand holding, forehead kisses, sometimes even cuddling if the planets align and his karma isn’t bothering him as much that day!

He’s so touch starved he just needs to get used to affection ;-;

Stalks you romantically

He just wants to keep you safe, he’s lost so much and gone through unimaginable pain

It took some time for him to be ok with you being so close to him since he’s scared of his karmic debt hurting you

Gets super red when talking about you~

“Hm? Y/N? Well they’re..um..very important to me I suppose”

Poof. he’s suddenly “needed” somewhere else

Even if it doesn’t seem like he cares too much I can assure you that he treasures you

You’ve given his life filled with pain and loss so much meaning and even though he’s bad with expressing his emotions he’ll always find some way to make sure you know how special you are to him <3

I don’t think he’d use much pet names

Either calls you by your first name/Qingxing/sweetheart/love.

Zhongli~

Mmm fancy gentleman

British but if British people weren’t a mistake

Sighs in being British

He’s such a gentle dude ;-;

Always pulling chairs out for you or kissing your hand while holding a door open

Don’t be mistaken though

He’s an absolute smug little shit

He just hides it very well

Teases you in the most unholy of ways only to look at you with confused innocent eyes

Impossible to be mad at istg

Sliced fruit dad™️

Teaches you how to traditionally make tea after he noticed you using tea bags

Genuinely mortified him

Likes to take you on walks around Liyue and tells you stories from his life as a archon

Speaking of which I’m 100% sure he was completely unhinged when he was younger

When he first realised he was falling for you he was the sweetest person

He’d take time to somehow “accidentally” cross paths with you and just so happened to be there if you needed help

Brings you the prettiest bouquets of flowers all personally arranged by him

He has experience to a certain degree

We all know the back story and if you don’t I’m not spoiling uwu

When he decided he had dragged it on for long enough he decided to finally confess

Surprisingly nervous

Man had to keep adjusting his collar and tie and absolutely wasn’t sweating just a little

Made casual conversation while walking with you to that big crystal tree where he kept his traumatised dog

Held both of your hands right as the sun spilled golden sunlight across the mountains and probably end up cupping your cheek with the softest smile ;-;

“I have witnessed many beauties in my time but the warmth of your smile truly is the most awe inspiring sight I ever have and ever will lay eyes upon”

Xiao gets so tired of hearing him brag about you

Even Hu Tao is wearing thin 💀

Doesn’t get jealous

He knows he has nothing to worry about between his trust for you and his not very subtle ego

Tries to be better at earning and holding money just because he wants to treat you!

Doesn’t want to give Childe the luxury of knowing his money is the cause of your happiness

Not that it necessarily is anyway

It’s just the experience of seeing how your face lights up when you try that really expensive food you always wanted or find that adorable plush you’d been eyeing up, on your bed

But of course that being said it’s truly the small things you both enjoy the most

The walks and stories

Teaching him how to be more accustomed to mortal life

He loves to hold your hands or pet your head!

Also loved it when you randomly peck his cheek or nose when he’s being adorably oblivious

Good luck to anyone who tries to hurt you btw

Man will summon his pillar so far up their ass they’d legally be a lollipop

That’s a threat I swear

If you come home hurt he’ll immediately roll his sleeve up and grab the first aid

Probably scolding you for not being careful enough but he really can’t keep the act up for long

He’s just worried ;-;

He’s lived for so long

You don’t even begin to understand how much he adores and admires you for bringing excitement and warmth back to his life~

Pet names are darling/dear/love/sweetheart/jewel.

Childe~

Someone slap him please

I love him but good god

Clingy™️

I know deep down he’s a really nice boy and very soft very caring yes very nice 10/10 boyfriend

But you need to housetrain him

Dead ass would sit on the couch covered in blood and put his feet on the coffee table and get so confused to why you were mad 💀

Do not flirt back

Don’t even attempt it

Not unless you want to encourage him and make it 20x worse

You will nEVER live it down

Is actually very sweet though, if not a little dumb sometimes

Immediately knew he liked you the second you met

How did he go about showing he liked you?

Pestering you constantly

Buys you lots of things too

Have to literally threaten him to stop

Which ofc turns him on hardly works

There’s really no winning with him

That is until you realise you can bring the mighty Tartaglia, 11th of the Fatui Harbingers to his knees by just kissing his cheek or holding his hand

He’s so immune to his own teasing that he forgot to consider that affection is a pretty good way to get people to warm up to you

Jealous boy

Well sort of

He trusts you but he gets easily insecure under his cronchy ego front

Casually talks about the most fucked up shit and then laugh it off

Indirectly asked Zhongli for help confessing

Reluctantly Zhongli finds out your favourite food/hobbies/Ect.

Yeah help him but not Xiao, betrayer

I’m not getting salty at my own headcanons shut up

When he invited you to dinner, you already knew why

He’s not subtle

Quiet is the last thing he can do well without cracking up every now and then

Either that or it was the candlelit table surrounded by roses that had been set up for you near the harbour and a very nervous ginger waiting for you with the biggest, goofiest grin imaginable

He’d be on his very best behaviour ;)

Stares at you in the candlelight before you ask him what’s up in hopes to make the tension a little less overwhelming

“I have won countless battles but none have meant quite as much to me as winning your heart does”

Congrats on become Liyues new power couple

He’d be lying if he didn’t feel at least a little smug seeing people gawk at you both

You’re so pretty together, how can they not?

Some dude tried to hit on you one time while he was drunk

Somehow Dottore magically ended up with a new play thing

When he introduced you to his family he was so happy!!

Tonia, Teucer, and Anthon all adore you!!

He does get a little jealous though when you play house with Teucer and you tease him by purposefully refusing to be his spouse

Good job keeping that act up for too long

Has absolutely sent piles of letters to his family telling them all about you!

His parents probably know pretty much everything there is by now

Though if you have boundaries he’ll respect them :)

He loves to show his affection to you no matter where you are!

Teasing kisses, hand holding, hugging

He’ll often barge into your room and plop his head down on your lap just so you can play with his hair while he talks~

If you fall asleep then he’ll wrap you all up and cuddle you uwu

Had to decide if he should tell you about his occupation

He was so scared that you’d leave him or become scared ;-;

Sure, you and the fatui aren’t exactly on close terms but it’s different with him

When you asked to have some time to think he was terrified

Please give him hugs and reassure him when you return

He’s even seemed to calm down a little since you got together

Of course he’s still a battle crazed maniac that gets hard just off the thought of being challenged

But he’s devoting more of his time to cherishing you and spending time together <3

Gets so excited when you ask to spar him

Does the whole thing where he’ll stand behind you while he shows you how to hold his bow

All steamy and shit

Elbow him

You also have to admit his status has its plus points

You never have to worry about being in danger while on commissions or having enough mora to survive

Romantic idiots 3.0

Though you’re probably a little less unhinged

Probably not by much if you’re dating him tho~

When you’re tired or don’t have the time to deal with his neediness he’ll go full pout mode

All whiny and touchy

Give him a head pat and a kiss that lasts maybe a little longer than it should and he’ll satisfied

Expect for the times he carries you back home to enjoy your attention a little more~

Honestly a 50/50

He always makes sure to tell you how much he loves you and how much happier you’ve made his life~

If you look close enough you might even see a slight sparkle in his deep blue eyes that never used to be there <3

Pet names areeee: cutie/babe/baby/honey/droplet/spark/love

I know xiaos was long enough to be it’s own post but let me have my silly little obsession with my silly little traumatised men!

[yeliuxi]

Jing Qi & the sable: Why this little guy has more relevance than just being poisonous and cute

I was talking about Jing Qi & the sable with @geneticcatalyst on this post here and I had some thoughts (and feelings) about them

When Jing Qi is lamenting about human troubles, he says:

这人，要操心的事情太多，譬如父母兄弟，亲朋好友, 妻儿老小, 每日应酬也应酬不过来, 总有千千万万的诱惑叫人陷进去

People have too many things to worry about, like parents and brothers, friends and family, wife, children, elders, and juniors, and social niceties upon social niceties to take care of every day. There are always thousands of temptations for people to fall to.

All the things that Jing Qi lists here are things he has struggled with since the beginning of the story. He has filial obligations to his father, must upkeep his friendship with Helian Yi while keeping him at a distance, and has a lot of pressure on him to take a wife and have sons. He has no brothers who can pass down the position of yixing wang to their children in his place. He must keep up respect and facades for Helian Pei, Helian Zhao, and Great General Feng, as they are his elders. He has recently taken a junior, Liang Jiuxiao, under his wing, and is now, in part, responsible for him.

And the temptations? Napping. I say this unironically.

When Jing Qi wakes up in the 7th life, he wants nothing more than to fool around until his death, just bid his time until his karmic ties can be resolved. It would be very easy to do, considering the favorability that (not) "keeping in his own lane" gets him in the 7th life. Helian Pei dotes on Jing Qi even more than his own sons. He's his 半个儿子, as Helian Zhao puts it. (But also this is the same scene when he's calling himself Jing Qi's da-ge and saying greasy stuff like 北渊，你跟大哥说说 [Beiyuan, tell your da-ge]. Barf.)

But... "keeping in his own lane" also means that, without his interference, the nation will be in danger of falling into the greedy and violent hands of Helian Yi's brothers. Even if Jing Qi lazed around for a decade, he would inevitably have to deal with the much more unpleasant fallout.

It's kind of a no-free-lunch thing. Jing Qi has not earned his right to laze around if he ignores his duties to his nation, and will suffer consequences for it. So, Jing Qi resists temptations, upholds daily social niceties, appeases his elders, and tries to keep Helian Yi as the crown prince. And, in the end, he is rewarded: in making sure Helian Yi ascends to the throne, he now no longer has to worry about negative fallout, and can go with Wuxi to Nanjiang, where he will live a peaceful and happy life.

He slowly divests himself of all these worries by the end of the novel. He still has responsibilities, but suffers less for them. The first to go is his obligation to take a wife and have an heir. This is also, in a way, a direct reward of Jing Qi fulfilling his duties to his nation. But... Jing Qi has always been fond of children, and wanted some of his own. (Now I want to make myself sad. Jiang Xue feelings time.) And he gets a child, eventually. One that calls him Diedie 🥺 Luta is a package deal with his peaceful life in Nanjiang, and is also a "long-term payoff" for his character.

These are Jing Qi's mortal, human troubles and affairs.

Then Jing Qi says:

可畜生不一样，每日操心的不过是活着和吃喝。你养了它, 它平日里看得见的，认得的，也就你一个人。你有外面大千世界三丈红尘，它却只记得你一个人的恩情……

But animals are different; their only worries every day are living, eating, and drinking. If you raise an animal, they will usually only look at and recognize you. There is this great big world of mortal affairs outside, and yet it will remember only your kindness...

(Also, on a tangent, Jing Qi uses 三丈红尘 to refer to the mortal world. Literally means "three zhang of red dust." The "red dust" of the mortal world comes from the poem 《西都赋》 and is talking about dust kicked up from daily life of mortals, from traveling, working, etc. And three zhang because most life is contained within three zhang (like 60 feet) of the ground. Unless you're special and live in the sky, I don't know.)

I imagine Jing Qi is speaking from experience, having been an animal in several of his previous lives. In this context, he is also specifically talking about the sable, as he just asked Ji Xiang if he thinks the sable will still recognize him.

When Jing Qi first meets the sable, the sable's position is very much like his own: holed up in the capital, kept there due to obligation to the nation of Da Qing (poor sable is also a hostage like Wuxi). He immediately terrorizes it, which is very different from Jing Qi promising to burn a fox paper money just after wearing its fur, remembering himself how it felt to be skinned alive in his 5th life. But it doesn't seem that he's too aware of the fact that he is terrorizing it... he claims that all he's done is "love it" and doesn't know why it's afraid of him.

Regardless, the sable is used to being scolded by Wuxi, who is strict with it. So it doesn't bite Jing Qi again, and is very well behaved. When Jing Qi takes it back to his estate, the sabel is far less behaved, and likes to make messes and stress out the household staff... much like Jing Qi himself. But, really, just as Jing Qi said: the sable, though it still loves and misses Wuxi, is now being fed, raised, and cared for by Jing Qi. It has no other concerns, and gets to play and laze about freely.

There's a moment when the sable kills the spy that was placed among Jing Qi's household staff, and Jing Qi is surprised, wondering, "You're really this viscious?" I think there's a case to be made that the sable, much like Jing Qi, can be ruthless, though outwardly does not seem like it. Jing Qi describes the sable as 没良心的 (conscienceless). 良心 (conscience) is also the word that Jing Qi asks Liang Jiuxiao if he knows how to write, and claims that a dog ate his own 良心. Jing Qi and the sable are just 没良心的besties over here.

While Jing Qi spends most of his time in the "mortal world" of Da Qing with too many worries, he eventually comes to be like the sable in other ways: concerned only about living, eating, and drinking, concerned only about one person's kindness. This is also a point in favor of Nanjiang kind of being like the underworld? Jing Qi dies in Da Qing, then lives a peaceful afterlife in Nanjiang, where he is no longer concerned with the great, big 三丈红尘 outside. (+15 Buddhist theme points to Qi Ye.)

Jing Qi fulfills his duties to his nation, dies as a ghost of Da Qing, lets go of his mortal affairs, and is rewarded for it. He gets his peaceful life in Nanjiang, and his worries of humans.

TL;DR, things the sable and post-canon Jing Qi have in common:

Love Wuxi

Loved by Wuxi

Hand fed by Wuxi

Scolded by Wuxi (eat your snake meat, Beiyuan)

No stress about family, friends, elders, juniors

Being ancient (accoording to Liang Jiuxiao)

Disciplined by Wuxi (Luta is traumatized)

没良心的

Get to be carefree and playful and laze about at the end of the novel

Terrorizing servants

[did-somebody-say-pizza-rolls]

apologies if someone has already said this but I only finished it last night so here’s my two cents about good omens season 2

Nina and Maggie are a parallel to Crowley and Aziraphale but not in the way you’d expect.

You’d expect Nina and Crowley to be paired together. They’re both the grumpy, glass half empty, albeit more “realistic” half of their duos. They wear dark colored clothes and have more similar, sarcastic, personalities. The grumpy to their partner’s sunshine.

Maggie and Aziraphale are the same. They’re cheery, idealistic, glass half full people. Their clothes are lighter and brighter and they’re always smiling and looking on the bright side of life. Sunshine people.

BUT

Thinking back on the last scene between Maggie, Nina, and Crowley, I can’t help but feel like the dynamic is Nina/Aziraphale and Maggie/Crowley.

Here’s why:

All throughout, we see Nina in an emotionally abusive relationship with her girlfriend. She’s constantly getting texts telling her she’s awful and she doesn’t care and eventually, threats that her partners leaving and won’t return. The same can be said about Aziraphale’s relationship with Heaven. They’re both aware the relationship is bad, but they’re so far in they feel a duty to uphold it and make things work, despite the clear imbalance (they care for their abusers more than their abusers care about them). Like Crowley said, Heaven, Hell, they’re all toxic—but Aziraphale still values that relationship because it’s all he’s been conditioned to know. Until or course, Crowley came along and showed him the truths of the world, challenged him to think for himself and showed him it’s ok to walk your own path—which is exactly what Maggie offers to Nina. A clean slate, a chance to rediscover her individuality, and time to figure that all out.

Likewise, Maggie’s been shown throughout the entirety of season 2 to be happy and self-sufficient with her independence. She runs her own shop, connects with people through the shop keepers monthly meetings, and dedicated her time to a passion and shop that other people may not value but SHE does and that’s enough. What’s more Crowley-coded than that? Marching to the beat of his own drum, caring for the Bentley more than he does people, forming his own eccentricities around ducks, music, wine, etc. BUT like Crowley, Maggie is shown to be missing one thing, wanting one thing: love. She has a crush on Nina across the street and has been silently pining after her for a while now (close proximity slow burn sound familiar anyone?) and much like Crowley, she’s the one to admit her feelings to a very hesitant Nina.

But the scene with the three of them at the end is very inspiring for the future of Aziraphale and Crowley, in my opinion. Nina and Maggie sit Crowley down and tell him they’re people and they can’t be toyed with for the sake of celestial matters. Nina even goes as far to say she’s not ready for a new relationship (because her previous one was so awful) but hopes if Maggie sticks around, they can make it work—which Maggie is almost immediate in reassuring she will be there. It’s played for laughs here, but looking back with the knowledge of what happens with Crowley and Aziraphale just after this, I’m looking back on the line with a quiet hope that it’s a sign of what’s to come for our ineffable duo. Because really, in what universe can anyone see Crowley NOT wait for Aziraphale?

What I think this means for next season (God, PLEASE give us a third season) is Aziraphale will finally start to cut off ties with Heaven (or maybe they’ll cut off ties with him, a la Lindsay), especially after realizing a relationship with Crowley is possible (shoutout Gabriel and Beelzebub). But whatever happens, I’m positive Crowley will be there, as always, to welcome him back. And Aziraphale will perform one hundred I-was-wrong dances and they’ll drive the Bentley off into the sunset (to their new cottage in the South Downs).

Or maybe I’m just delusional and coping ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

tldr: Nina is Aziraphale, Lindsay/Heaven are their abusives exes, and Maggie/Crowley are the people who actually love them and will wait for them to come around.

[corpse-a-diem]

The Fun in Funeral Homes | Max & Erin

TIMING: Before the banshees returned to Ireland PARTIES: Max ( @screadqueens ) & Erin (ft. Jack Nichols) LOCATION: Nichols' Funeral Home SUMMARY: Max visits the funeral home to decide if any loose ends need tying up. CONTENT WARNINGS: parental death tw (ghost dad)

Celebrations of the dead were among the few things Max respected about human society. There was something uncharacteristically admirable in the way humans honored their dead, something Max enjoyed even if humanity as a whole made her feel a little nauseous. The cemeteries she and Tina had explored were the only places in town that didn’t find the young banshee rolling her eyes at every turn. So the idea of visiting a funeral home was one that struck her as appealing. So much so, in fact, that she’d cut her sister out of the job entirely. This would be for Max, and Max alone. She wanted it that way.

Of all the people Regan and Siobhan had become entangled with, Max thought that this one was the only one that made sense. Sealgairí who targeted the undead were fine for upholding Fate, but still not humans Max would have fallen in with as deeply as the two older banshees seemed to have done in Wicked’s Rest. But this? This Erin Nichols, with her home dedicated so wholly to death? At least she was intriguing. 

Max walked into the funeral home, pleased to find it open. Businesses did that, didn’t they? Open door policies, as if nothing and no one could touch them. It was a funny thing. She spotted a woman behind a desk, and she fitted herself with her most convincing grin. It was an unnerving thing, too wide and showing off too many teeth. “Hi,” she said, knocking on the wood as she approached. “Are you Erin?” 

—

The morning had gone quickly, as mornings usually did around funeral homes. Erin had just returned home from a service at the cemetery, readying up for front desk duties while her mother took a break. She didn’t take enough of them, even though she chastised Erin for the exact same thing. It was quiet though, which was more than fine for the older woman. After a morning of supporting a grieving family, some silence was more than welcome. Up until she heard the door open, a young woman entering the funeral home. That wasn’t totally strange in itself–though younger clients calling on behalf of deceased loved ones typically communicated through email or phone. Very rarely in person. There was something unnerving about their chipperness to boot. This was a funeral home. No one smiled that way–unless they had a beefy inheritance waiting for them after this. 

Erin stood from the desk chair, pulling her usual welcoming smile. “Hi–yes. I am,” she nodded, taking note of the specificity of their question, bathed in an Irish accent. She briefly thought of Regan as she tilted her head. Weird coincidence. “Is there something I can help you with?”

—

As she surveyed the lobby of the funeral home, Max found herself hoping, in a way she usually didn’t, that Siobhan and Regan hadn’t told this woman anything about Saol Eile. It wasn’t often that she found herself hoping for the chance not to kill someone. For Max, it was usually the opposite. She reveled in things like that far more than she ought to, longed for her blades to taste flesh in a way some banshees might find a little distasteful. She never did it without reason, of course, never did anything other than upholding Fate the way a banshee should, but she still longed for it. Except… not right now. Instead, she found herself longing to know more about what was done here. Did Erin Nichols have a room full of bones? She could feel corpses nearby. Would she be allowed to see them if she asked nicely? If she threatened? 

The woman confirmed her identity, and Max’s smile widened. It was almost uncomfortable, but she leaned over the desk anyway, glancing down at the contents. No bones on her desk, which was a little disappointing. “Maybe there is. I think you know an old acquaintance of mine. Dr. Regan Kavanagh? I heard about your business because of her.” Not a lie, though it had to be carefully avoided to ensure such. Max detested lying, but she knew how to stretch the truth when she needed to. “I was hoping for a tour of your facility. I have a lot of interest in what you do here.”

—

There was a sharp curiosity in the eyes of the young woman in Erin’s lobby right now. Curiosity wasn’t unusual. Society had drawn a dark, mysterious veil over what they did here and many first-time guests were usually expecting something more macabre or closer to what they’ve seen in movies when they visit. But this curiosity was something different. Something Erin couldn’t discern just yet. Still, she smiled politely and appropriately, despite the unnerving way the other woman held herself. When she mentioned Regan, her face lit up and softened considerably. “Regan? Really?” The accent–duh. Of course. “Do you guys know each other from Ireland? Have you–have you spoken to her?”  She realized how excited she was and tried to stifle it a bit. Regan was in Ireland. She wasn’t coming back. 

“A tour?” She paused, well aware of the fact that for at least the next hour or so she was free but better judgment was starting to creep in. “Um–yeah. Sure. We could do a little tour. Though, unfortunately, the cooler parts of what I do are off limits, which I’m sure you understand. Are you looking into careers in the industry?” She stepped out from behind the desk, that polite smile still intact despite the bit of struggle that was growing, but she was always going to highly and enthusiastically endorse more females who wanted to enter the death industry. “What did you say your name was?”

—

Max didn’t miss the way the woman’s expression changed at the mention of Regan. Humans were so bad at this, weren’t they? They couldn’t school their expressions, couldn’t express anything resembling restraint. They were clumsy and reckless, they let everything show right there on the surface. How did they live this way? What was it like to exist and be read as easily as words on a page? It sounded exhausting. “Yes, we knew each other in Ireland. I’ve known her grandmother all my life. She’s a very respected individual in my hometown.” Which made Regan’s betrayal all the more disgusting. To bring such shame on your community was one thing, but on your family? Max felt for Regan’s grandmother… as much as she was capable of feeling for anyone. 

She couldn’t deny the burst of excitement in her chest as Erin agreed to the tour, though she would have denied it as best she could if asked. Max was still young, still learning. Stifling everything she felt was more difficult for her than it would have been for an older banshee. She longed to get there someday, dreamed of being a hundred years old and numb, but for now, in the privacy of her own mind, she held that excitement. “I suppose you could say I have a vested interest in the work. I think what you do here is magnificent. And you have a lovely home, of course.” If she could get a thank you out of Erin, she could force her to show her the ‘cooler parts’ that were ‘off-limits.’ It shouldn’t be too terribly difficult; humans were bad about that, too. “Max. My name is Max.” It was no bother, offering only her nickname. After all, if Erin knew more than she ought to, she’d die here, anyway. And if she didn’t, there was little she could do with an abbreviated version of Max’s first name. Honesty was a good policy… especially because Max really did want that tour.

—

Erin recalled Regan mentioning at some point how rural her hometown was with implications that it was so far removed from everything that they didn’t even have some of the same phone applications as the rest of the world, apparently. But why was Max here while Regan was across the ocean? Max’s response was polite and slightly informative but… off. Just like the rest of her. Maybe they weren’t terribly close. But then why or how would she know about Erin? Questions only continue to pile up the more Max spoke. “I take it she made it to Ireland alright?” She pressed once more, curious about Regan of course, but more curious about Max’s response now. “I just haven’t heard from her since she left,” she added, shrugging casually and preemptively glossing over any weirdness with a small smile. “I mean, you guys at least have the internet all the way out there, right? I still haven’t been able to figure out how to download Scapchat.”

A vested interest didn’t tell Erin much. But she trusted Regan and knew if anything, she could trust Regan’s respect for the field and what she did here. She wouldn’t send just anyone Erin’s way. She was probably just misinterpreting Max’s mannerisms. It wasn’t like Regan was a beacon of social aptitude either. Maybe they were all homeschooled where they came from. “Oh, why thank you,” Erin answered, relaxing a little as she started to lead Max away from the front desk and to the showroom. The casket Regan had eyed still sat in the middle of the room surrounded by a few other models made from different materials and colors. Urns sat neatly along display shelves along the walls with Erin’s favorites sitting front and center. 

“I don’t trust this one.”

Erin’s attention darted to the figure suddenly behind Max. Her father wasn’t looking at Erin, though. His gaze was stuck on the young woman for a long moment before he glanced up at his daughter. No explanation followed, just a look that screamed Be careful, though her quick look told him she agreed. “You picked a good time to pop in - we’re pretty quiet this afternoon.” She glanced back at Max, keeping an eye on her. “Was there something in particular you wanted to know? I love questions. Especially from a fellow death enthusiast.”

—

There was a tickle on the back of her neck. It was like hair standing up straight, like the feeling of someone watching you from behind. Max tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, though she didn’t turn around. There was a whisper of a voice behind her, but no one beyond herself and Erin in the room. But Max was smart. She had enough experience with ghosts to know when one was near, and wasn’t that interesting, too? A house of the dead, haunted by ghosts. Was this one a soul belonging to one of the corpses that Erin had not yet let her see? Or was it a more personal thing? And, perhaps more importantly, was Erin aware? 

Max let her eyes go to the woman, studying her for a moment. Was her attention truly split between Max and this invisible force, or was Max’s knowledge on what else lurked in the room with them clouding her judgment? It was important, she thought, not to make any such assumptions. She couldn’t assume that Erin knew of the ghost. She couldn’t assume that Regan had told Erin anything that would require her eradication. Banshees ought to operate on proof. Otherwise, the risk of altering Fate was too prevalent. 

“Oh, I’m sure she made it just fine.” She hadn’t seen Regan back home, but she’d heard whispers throughout the community of her return. It had made her feel a little stormier than she’d admit, made a bitterness she’d never cop to rise up in her throat. Why should the return of someone who’d left willingly be so celebrated? Why should everyone rejoice at someone who’d betrayed them changing her mind? As far as Max was concerned, Regan Kavanagh could rot. It was the only way Max could ever imagine thinking of her fondly.

Erin’s statement brought her back to the conversation, and she quirked a brow. “She told you about Scapchat, did she?” That wasn’t a good sign. She’d clearly been talking about their community to outsiders; the only question was, to what extent? “What else did she tell you?” She made no effort to answer Erin’s questions. Unlike Regan, Max had no intention of selling her people out.

Luckily, Regan hadn’t told Erin everything. She thanked Max, and Max’s smile was a predatory thing. “You’re welcome,” she replied, clearly pleased with herself. “Now, how about we repay that thanks, hm? You’re going to show me the cooler parts of what you do, the bits you were talking about earlier. It shouldn’t be a problem, since you’re quiet now.”

—

Erin simply nodded her head at Max, who was becoming more curt and unforthcoming the longer they spoke. So she… hadn’t spoken to Regan? But she knew about this funeral home specifically, and the fact that Erin knew Regan. This didn’t feel right anymore. The conversation she’d had with Regan in this very room crept back into her mind–her reasons for leaving, the reluctance, and the secrecy that shrouded the whole thing regarding her hometown. And now one of her “acquaintances” was here? Just because? It was starting to feel a little too cult-y and a lot more uncomfortable than she’d like. “Yeah. It sounded pretty cool,” Erin answered, though the enthusiasm she held before had vanished. The worried look on her father’s face caught her eyes again. Max had to go. Now. 

Absolutely not. 

…Was what Erin should have answered, angry and with a shuffle towards the front door. Her mind screamed the words until they rattled along her skull but all she got for it was silence. Painful, choking silence. Her legs were moving now and she reached into her suit pocket to grab her keys. “Seriously? You’re just going to let her down there?” Her father appeared at the door, like his spectral state could somehow stop what was going to happen. Confusion spilled into concern at the wide, terrified eyes staring back at him. They were practically begging him for help. “What’s wrong with you? Erin–Erin, answer me.” He practically shouted when she ignored him and then did shout for her attention until her hand reached through him to the doorknob.

The metal of the key clicked into place and the old, hardwood door that separated the basement mortuary from the rest of the home creaked quietly open. This wasn’t real. Right? This couldn’t be real. This was a dream, or a hallucination, or something that she could snap herself out of if she tried hard enough. Her body continued to betray her and she moved aside, gesturing to the stairs. Max was free to roam to her heart’s content.

—

No one had ever really taught Max the best ways to navigate conversation. Why would they need to? Banshees were agents of Fate, and not necessarily meant for anything else. She knew how to talk to people back home — Tina most of all — but humans? She’d never even tried. Humans in Saol Eile were good for exactly one thing, and Max hadn’t needed a sacrifice in years now. She had no idea that she was saying anything at all that might make the funeral home director suspicious or uneasy.

“Maybe you ought to come visit sometime.” The words were innocent enough; someone who didn’t know Saol Eile or what they did to humans there might not know how predatory the suggestion was. It was also insincere. There was no place for Erin Nichols back home, though Max wouldn’t mind parading her through the streets just to make Regan uncomfortable. For now, though, she would settled for this. For seeing the funeral home in all its glory, for learning more about death as was her birthright. She followed Erin to the door, hyperaware of the sensation of the ghost in the room. She wouldn’t look for it now, though maybe later. Only if she determined Erin needed to be killed, of course; otherwise, she risked exposing too much. 

The basement door opened, and Max let out a pleased exhale as she stepped inside. She could feel the death all around her, the rot. “Tell me about it,” she said, looking back to Erin. “Tell me all the things you do here.”

—

Erin led her downstairs, despite her brain fighting uselessly against each step. She wanted to show Max. Better yet, she needed to show her exactly what she wanted. Down another corridor, the temperature dropped before they stood in front of a wall of metal, square doors that lined the refrigeration units like a checkerboard. They’d just received a new intake that morning, untouched and ready. Perfect for Max. “This is where I fix them,” she spoke mindlessly, her hands already reaching for the unit door. 

“Erin,” her father warned, following close behind her. Something was wrong in the way that Wicked’s Rest was wrong. Wrong in all the ways he’d tried to hide from her for most of her life. But it didn’t work. It had never really worked. The wrongness still managed to touch her. 

Erin pulled the slab out from its confines, delicately pulling the zipper that encased the fresh corpse. The smell wasn’t so bad yet. Her eyes jumped to Max, a sudden urge to please her overwhelming her senses. “Would it be better if I showed you?” 

—

Max followed along behind Erin eagerly, the feeling of death calling to her the closer they got to the door. “Fix them?” She repeated the word, sounding half offended. What was there to fix? It was more fun to watch them decay, to take in the beauty of it. It shouldn’t have surprised her that even Regan Kavanagh’s human friends would have made terrible banshees; Regan herself was a bad one, never doing enough to earn her birthright. 

She could still feel the ghost trailing along, and she wondered if there were more. Did they stay with their bodies? Did they follow Erin around as she did her work, did they haunt her? Maybe if Max did end up needing to kill the woman, she could allow herself to see. Maybe it would be fun.

“Yes,” she said, trying not to let her voice show just how much she wanted to see the corpse within the bag. “I’d love to see it. You’ll show me.”

—

Usually Erin wouldn’t dream of touching a decedent without the proper gear on–head to toe, full body PPE was required. It simply wasn’t safe. But this was for Max, and she needed to impress her. Needed to show her exactly what she’d asked for. Erin would do it gladly. “Fixed, yes,” Erin repeated with a nod. Max was from Ireland, and knowing what she did about Regan, she wondered how different the customs were there–or how their small town of people viewed death. It was obviously different than most. She’d have to ask Regan one day, if she ever spoke to her again. “When a person dies, they’re sent to me to be fixed, if I can. Their families want to see them as they were. A final memory.” Erin paused, turning to Max with a firm but gentle look. “It’s important. It’s how we grieve,” she assured her, remembering briefly only moving to grab a table of medical tools. The metal pieces rattled against the sterilized tray as it moved, squeaky wheels echoing against painted cement walls. 

Jack was beyond recognizing that his words were falling on deaf ears. He needed to do something. This needed to stop. Max needed to be stopped. He didn’t know what she was or what she was doing to control his daughter but a protective fury built in him. He’d never done this before–didn’t even know if he could do it–but what else was he going to do? Stand there and watch while his daughter was mind controlled by some Irish brat? “Stop!” He yelled, charging towards the table. The items clattered to the floor and still, he flew past it. Erin tumbled to the floor but it was Jack who felt the shock of her back hitting the cement. 

“Shit, that hurt–” Erin’s voice came out of his mouth. Or, her mouth. He looked down to find his daughter’s physical form and not the corporeal one he’d been roaming around in for the last few months. This wasn’t exactly what he’d had planned. The idea was to knock over the table and her if he could muster the strength but–shit. This would do, he supposed. Glancing up at Max, he reached for the closest tool near him and stood up. The medical buzz saw sprung to life as he jutted it in her direction. “Take one step anywhere but to the door right now or so help me–” he started, Erin’s voice shaky but firm. And pissed. 

—

Grief wasn’t something Max fully understood. It was a feeling she’d cut herself off from with her first scream, when her mother’s blade tore through a boy she’d loved and her lungs had ripped and shattered with a feeling she refused to hold onto. Death was a beautiful thing. It wasn’t a problem to be fixed or a memory to be held. It was something to be revered, something to be admired. Where did some human get off on claiming otherwise? For a moment, something hot flashed in her chest, but Max discarded it. Humans were stupid, silly things. That was something she’d known all her life. One could hardly blame a dog for not learning to write, and the same reasons made it pointless to feel angry at a human for not understanding death. It just wasn’t something they were capable of. 

Deciding to ignore Erin’s words — a kindness Max was sure made her something of a saint — she turned to the body on the table. Better to give this her full attention, to marvel at the silly human customs surrounding death. Why didn’t they allow the bodies to decay naturally? Why didn’t they sit and watch bone fall from flesh piece by piece? What was the purpose of preserving the memory of something long gone?

Max wanted to ask. But, before she could, Erin spoke in a way that was strange. Her voice, still, but the wrong tone. The wrong emotion behind it. Erin was bound; she ought to be malleable, the way she was before. But she wasn’t. Instead, she was picking up a saw? “This isn’t what we agreed upon,” Max said, tilting her head to the side. “You know there are consequences to going against an agreement, don’t you? Do yourself a favor and put it away.” How had she been able to lift it to begin with? How could she threaten Max? It didn’t compute.

—

Max seemed confused. Good. It meant that this was working against whatever magic was compelling Erin before. For now. Jack took another step forward, giving the air a small slash as if to beckon the younger woman backwards even more. He hadn’t decided if he was actually going to use it or not yet. Getting Erin arrested for attacking a young woman and then peacing out of her body seemed like something he’d get exorcised over. Probably rightfully so. Allowing this charade to play out until the little psychopath was content didn’t feel right either. He liked his odds a little better this way. “And there are consequences to disobeying the person holding the bonesaw.” 

Another step forward echoed another screee from the saw in his hand. It felt odd in his grasp–Erin’s grasp. Different from his own, of course, but the strength behind it didn’t feel like it should. It felt like borrowed time. Like driving someone else’s car for the first time. The mechanics were familiar and he could get around fine but it just wasn’t right. Max wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking. He raised a brow, feigning interest in his next question. “Sorry, did you misunderstand? Do you still want me to show you what I do with this?”

—

The barely evolved ape had the audacity to slash at Max with her blade, and the banshee felt a frustrated scream building in her chest. She’d been so close to seeing something beautiful, something that might have made this whole wretched trip to America a little bit less irritating. It wasn’t fair that she’d lose it when it was right there within her grasp. Didn’t she deserve it? After everything, hadn’t she earned it? Wasn’t death hers to hold and to mold and to store behind her teeth and deep within her lungs? If she were less rigid in her training, if she were someone more like Regan Kavanagh (she shuddered at the thought), she might have let out a scream. She might have brought the whole building down on both their heads, a glorious repeat of the house where Regan’s friends had tried to hide out falling down brick by brick. But Max was better than that. Max was built for this, had spent her entire life honing her power in a way failures like Regan Kavanagh could only dream of.

In any case, she thought, Erin would have consequences for breaking her word here. Wasn’t that how it worked? Max had bound her and Erin had broken it, but it wouldn’t come without cost. It never did. Fate would have its way with her, Max suspected. And for a banshee, that had to be enough. She reminded herself of this, even as she yearned to take matters into her own hands. She was not Regan Kavanagh, and she wasn’t Siobhan Dolan, either. She was better than the both of him, an instrument of Fate through and through. She flashed Erin a smile sharper than the blade she was swinging around, tilted her head to the side. “I suspect you’ll regret this later,” she said, taking a step back towards the door. “I only wish I could stick around to see it.” 

She made her way back, eyes on Erin all the while. She turned to walk back up the stairs. 

(And if she let out the smallest ear-splitting screech on the way? Well… no one was perfect.)

[airasora]

Mulan as a devotion oathed paladin with folk hero background

Mulan was requested by both dagidaz5540 and @little-bloodied-angel and this one I think is gonna have some people disagreeing with me, but that's okay cause I went back and forth on quite a few decisions here.

First of all; fighter felt like the obvious class for Mulan. HOWEVER, my reasoning for choosing paladin instead is that the description of its class, and its oath of devotion, is that paladins are fueled by the desire to uphold justice and righteousness. Mulan didn't start fighting because she wanted to fight, but because she has a duty to her heart and what she believes is right. That, along with the oath of devotion, which is about protecting the weak and pursuing the greater good, made me feel like paladin was the better choice for her.

However, I think the more polarizing choice of mine will be her looks. Now, I did think at first it made the most sense to make her, for the lack of a better word, "look plain". Mulan cuts off her long black hair to pretend to be a man at first, yes, but in the sequel she has kept the shorter hair, either out of preference or because it makes fighting easier - let's be honest, long-ass hair is a liability realistically if you have to fight or do stunts or anything like that.

My reasoning for giving her long, bejeweled hair along with some makeup as well is very biased, I admit. You see, to me, what I've always loved about Mulan is that she can do both. And I MEAN that. Mulan starts off being not stereotypically feminine because she's clumsy and all that, but she's not stereotypically masculine either cause she doesn't just run off, joins the war and is magically amazing at fighting. (Looking at you Mulan remake, you're still my least favorite out of all the remakes, you were an atrocity on so many levels!) so she has to learn and figure out both how to grow as a warrior, but she also uses knowledge and stereotypically feminine objects when needed - don't pretend her using the fan to trick Shan Yu's sword out of his hands isn't metaphorical - and the opening song to the sequel is literally her explaining yin and yang and how you need both.

I know that the main reason we still saw MANY illustrations of Mulan merchandise with her looking feminine was probably to sell more merchandise by appealing to young girls, but growing up I always saw it as her being able to do both. She was my first introduction to a character who was strong with both feminine and masculine traits and skills. And, until Luisa from Encanto (and with the exception of Kim Possible) Disney didn't really give us a strong female character who appreciated and praised both feminine and masculine skills and traits. I wanted that to shine through in my BG3 version of her.

Ok, this post is gonna get too long if i continue, so hold onto my reigns now x'D

[prometheanglory]

and 👖🌌🌱🔥📎🙈💘☀️🪤👑 for vinh, my angel 🥺😳 I THOUGHT ID SEND THIS IN TWO PARTS BC ITD BE EASIER FOR U KQHSJSJSJSKSK

I LIVE LAUGH LOVE FOR THE BEEFY ASKS FOR ETERNITY AND ALWAYS and ty for ur service of offering a 2 parter grins so evilly (and i apologize for the length bc im wordy and vinh requires words… it makes for an unwise combination for word count) this actually took me months on-and-off to write since…. july 1st oh my god

👖 JEANS - what is their go-to outfit?

IT DEPENDS ON WHERE SHE IS? if she’s back at home: prefers to dress conservatively, tho she does adorn herself with a lot more flashy jewelry. her color palette is more broad, but she sticks to cream-colored dresses if she has to go out in public (her chitons are quite varied. they swing between unremarkable or notably contemporary) (reason being: her mother manages a chunk of her wardrobe). she prefers to wear her himation/veil higher up (or have it cover her completely) namely for modesty’s sake — but she feels obligated to lower it when in the company of her higher-ranking relatives, since they are a prouder crowd who prefer a more prideful look to her. while she may not put heightened emphasis on trends, looking presentable and appropriate is critical to her.

off the mountain, vinh still upholds a lot of her classiness + modesty but now prioritizes looking more put-together and formal… from a modern lens! fond of darker colors, and seldom wears anything that doesnt cover her neck or her arms in public. her go-to outfits tend to avoid pants. pants feel weird to her. they reveal + hug everything way too much. and while she’s coming around to being comfortable with showing some legs, she’s still a far cry from going anywhere without tights or pantyhose. jewelry from vinh here is much more sparse + simple, like a string of pearls or a thin golden necklace. she doesn’t like to look ostentatious without clear reason. a long skirt with a long sleeved shirt will do the job fine.

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

THE PROMETHEAN TORCH. THE FORGE OF HEPHAESTUS. FIRE. HEARTH FIRE. DUTY AND OBLIGATION… originally i was just looking 4 a convenient excuse for why her hair is on fire but then it kinda just spiraled from there. so she went from loose self insert to full-fledged oc.

i think the first thing i decided about vinh was her number-two status? ik i always bring up her weird case of generosity/duty/etc but when i first drafted her up, she was always kinda meant to be tailing idia… or well, just always bringing up the rear for someone else (originally, this aspect of her personality was much pronounced within her dynamic w leona) despite her qualifications(*) to take charge — she has never had any genuine interest in moving beyond her position, and embraces it as a supporting role. promethean fire is a tool to greatness babie!!!

**qualifications can be defined as numerous things. some may look to her status and prestige; others may look to her academic and physical performance. it is also possible to look towards her focused and cool personality.

🌱 SEEDLING - what is their most vivid memory from childhood?

she didn’t rly have much of a childhood :,) such is the fate of being the eldest daughter, but that doesn't mean she didn't have any adolescent experiences! i'd say one of her most vivid memories as a child were around her days as her grandfather's protégé. instead of eating mud and frolicking with her parents, she'd spend her days tailing him and studying to develop her magical skills. her grandpa wanted to understand where exactly her limits were with her magical prowess though, so what started as a simple lesson turned into an impromptu magic brawl.

the intent was to just go until vinh called it off, but vinh's always been a high-achieving people-pleaser. implying that 'she couldn't take it' didn't rly end up happening. the only thing that ended up stopping her grandpa from whacking around a pseudo-preteen with lightning bolts for 30 more minutes, was the fact that vinh's mom showed up and forced them both to stop (via her unique magic) bc that's the only way she could've done it without aggravating the issue further.

this incident was what gave vinh her closest brush to what over-extended use of her unique magic could entail, because of her rapid mana depletion also ended up depleting her temperature immunity. meaning that vinh was actually burning herself pretty severely without the safety barrier of her excess mana.

as all concerned mothers would, mamaphrodite was pretty pissed that her own grandfather would be so inappropriate with a girl who is many centuries his junior and barely has her leg out the door in experience. the only reason why vinh would continue her education under him + the head temple (until her eventual promotion to the head temple's hiereiai) would be due to vinh's own request (read: begging and insistence) to overlook this and let her stay.

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

she has a very very very poor alcohol tolerance — one shot does more than just get her tipsy. most people wouldn’t be able to tell she’s drunk tho. she’s the type of drunk who doesn’t really get aggressive or excited. she’s just very… compliant. almost-entirely silent. her inhibitions flew out the window and it left nothing behind but low ambitions. its hard to spot because shes not exactly super chatty and rebellious. being stone-faced and doing people weird favors isn’t even out of character for her… but the extent to which she’ll agree is the key to figuring it out.

want her to follow you? sit in this spot and not move a muscle? blow something up? clean your bathroom? get in the kitchen and make you sandwich? brush your teeth (why would you ask her to do that)? she’ll do everything to a T as asked. until she sobers up, at least (which… may take a while. depending on how much she drank.)

anyway, it goes without saying that vinh does not like being drunk. it is a lesson well-learned in her family that neither she nor her dad are meant to drink, but it’s only vinh who listens to that lesson and abstains from drinking.

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don’t want to show other people?

she doesn’t like to show strong emotions to anothers. it’s not that she goes out of her way to present herself as cold, it’s coincidence that vinh’s idea of being mild-mannered means being very muted and distant.

strong reactions spurred on by anything (negative or positive) is improper and unnecessary, even outright uncomfortable. this notion extends to ‘intimate’ or ‘vulnerable’ feelings as well. it’s not right for her to be seen prone or viewed as ‘in-need’. vinh prefers that her thoughts, feelings, and biases stay strictly with her unless otherwise prompted (or that these feeling somehow act to the benefit or desire of others).

the point she makes pointedly clear is she prefers to be seen as a pillar and a service, rather than a person.

💘 HEART W/ ARROW - what traits do they look for in a relationship? do they believe in love at first sight?

truth comes first — she does not believe in love at first sight applies to her, and this rhetoric can be similarly applied to how she feels about true love. it probably exists. it definitely exists. but it’s not real enough to be a rule, so it’s not really relevant. love = attraction but attraction ≠ love. she doesn’t want to disappoint anybody with a promise of love when it wasnt love they were seeking. the eyes are often hungrier than the stomach, so to speak.

in a relationship, i think she’s always subconsciously looking for maturity and understanding, or at least some semblance of reassurance of her value...? but more accurately, i think she looks more towards the explicit lack of said-criteria. not all at once and definitely not to an extreme ofc, but it's just easier for her to stomach mediocrity. as starved as she may be for connections, she’s kind of backed herself into a corner of being equally repulsed by it. so. this works out decently(*) for her. she doesn’t mind bearing the brunt of the emotional and manual labor you’d expect from a relationship, even if she never is quite there emotionally.

☀️ SUN - are they a morning person? what is the first thing they do in the morning?

absolutely a morning person, but she’s Also simultaneously a night owl. she doesn’t really have much of a choice, seeing as her body doesn’t need sleep very often. aside from the usual morning hygiene routine, vinh's first priority in the morning is definitely just a random assortment of tasks ranging from waking up, freshening up, finishing up last-minute assignments… it’s usually busy, but she sees it as tame.

outside of that, her morning duties also include delivering any documents to whoever requested them, waking up/setting out uniforms for other students (largely contained to ignihyde — and only if they asked her, but there’ve been other instances). she also brings breakfast back from the shops or the cafeteria if people ask for it… it’s mainly idia who’s made a habit of this service, bc nobody else uses it as frequently as he does.

🪤 MOUSE TRAP - what will always lure them into certain danger? a loved one in danger? a promise of something they are always searching for?

i think it’d be best explained as ‘for the betterment of others’ that she’d do something dangerous!

though an endangered loved one could (would) have her up on her feet immediately, to say that the decision to leap into the fray comes ‘easily’ to her is never true. of course, she’ll do it — who else could? to the extent that she can? she extends this service outwards towards the public if she deems the threat large enough to require her attention or has otherwise been brought to her.

you could take this magnetism to danger as a testament to what she’s always seeking (the ability to be of use/be valuable/be capable/etc). the other answer you scrape from this though, is that vinh’s sense for accomplished duty comes from a place of being mutilated in some way.

👑 - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why?

to be entirely honest, she doesn’t want to be remembered. or at least, she doesn’t want her name or face or… really any facet of her to be connected to it? she knows thats a bit impossible, her status and her goals don’t align enough for such a thing. it’s just wishful and moody thinking.

if she has to be remembered, she’d like for it to not gloss over the unsavory aspects of how she ever came to be. people are free to remember her actions or what she did, whether it helped them or harmed them. she doesn’t want to be an untouchable exemplar because she managed to help some people. it is nothing but the right thing to do, the natural thing to do, and it does not need an audience.

👑 CROWN - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why?

to be entirely honest, she doesn’t want to be remembered. or at least, she doesn’t want her name or face or… really any facet of her to be connected to it? she knows thats a bit impossible, her status and her goals don’t align enough for such a thing. it’s just wishful and moody thinking

if she has to be remembered, she’d like for it to not gloss over the unsavory aspects of how she ever came to be. people are free to remember her actions or what she did, whether it helped them or harmed them. she doesn’t want to be an untouchable exemplar because she managed to help some people. it is nothing but the right thing to do, the natural thing to do, and it does not need an audience.

[singularity-sam]

Insane Stories From Belobog's Trash Cans - Volume 2: The Astral Express Gets a Pet

(Disclaimer: This story contains depictions of violence and unfunny cringe attempts at humor throughout.)

On the Astral Express, what started out as a fairly standard day quickly got more interesting when Himeko decided to hold a sudden meeting with the rest of the crew. That’s when she began to discuss the possibility of the crew getting a pet for the express. But, there was a catch; it involved Stelle’s input…

“Oh, wowie! We’re really gonna get a pet!?”, March 7th exclaimed excitedly upon hearing the suggestion. Dan Heng stoically followed up with: “Easy there, March. Let’s hear what else she has to say.” Welt nodded and replied, “Indeed. Even I’m curious about where this idea came from…”, while contemplating.

While they all quieted down, Himeko kept smiling and then answered their inquiries with her trademark elegance. “Hmm… Well… I’ve been noticing how Stelle has been under a lot of stress lately, with her recent arrival on the Express and her struggles on our Trailblaze expeditions and all of that.”, she said, “So, I just thought that having a pet to take care of would be therapeutic, and help her with acclimating to her new home. That’s all there is to it.” Stelle, who was standing nearby next to the others, just nodded and gave a grateful smile silently once she learned about her reasoning. March 7th smiled wider and cheerfully commented: “Aww… That’s sweet of you! You’re always looking out for us, Himeko!” In response, Himeko crossed her arms and kept upholding her mature aura. “Naturally! That’s my duty here on the Express. …Now, do any of you have any ideas on what kind of pet you want? Remember, Stelle’s input takes priority, as this is all for her sake.”, she replied.

“Ooh, ooh! Hey, hey!”, March 7th emoted while bobbing her hand in the air, “How ‘bout a bunny? I love bunnies, and having one would be sooo cute! And I’m sure the conductor would appreciate it, since they kinda look like a bunny, too!” Dan Heng shook his head in reaction before suggesting, “Putting Pom-Pom aside… May I suggest a cat? They’re quite popular and generally low maintenance pets.”, with a subtle hint of longing in his tone. She nodded, and while still feeling happy, said: “Ah, that’s a good idea, too! I didn’t know you liked cats, Dan Heng.” Meanwhile, Welt offered his own idea, but he whispered it so quietly, nobody could hear him. “A dog, perhaps…?”, he uttered out mutedly.

Himeko looked around attentively before she addressed them. “Heh… Wonderful suggestions, everyone. With that, what are your thoughts, Stelle? Is there anything you’d want as a pet that we could adopt? It should be something important that can make you feel calm and comfortable.”, she asked. Using her last two brain cells, Stelle spent a few moments thinking about her options until something became clear to her. It was so simple, and she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t considered it beforehand. She had a plan for obtaining the pet she wanted, and she would adopt it, no matter the cost. She then silently nodded to Himeko’s questions in agreement, all while having a blank look on her face.

“Oh, really? That’s great to know!”, she stated, “What type of pet is it? Where can we get one?” A single, decisive second passes before Stelle unexpectedly shakes her head and neutrally answers with, “Ight, Imma head out.”, and then proceeds to teleport to some far off Space Anchor location using her phone.

Of everyone present in the parlor car, only March 7th and Dan Heng seemed to be concerned about the shocking turn of events that just happened. “Oh, brother! I’ve got a bad feeling about this…”, she groaned. He nodded and rolled his eyes while responding with: “I do as well. Hopefully, this ends peacefully and no one gets hurt…” And so, they patiently waited for the unhinged Stelle to return with her pet…

…

In the hustle and bustle of Belobog’s streets, Stelle arrived in the Administrative District from the nearby Space Anchor. Dead set on her goal, she spent a few minutes walking down the sidewalks with determination in her stride; she knew exactly what she was looking for, and where to find it.

Upon nearing her destination, a small alcove containing some rail-lined fences near a shop, she then spotted a hauntingly familiar person, somebody who she feared running into. The acquaintance’s visage posed an obstacle to Stelle, as this could ruin her plans to acquire her pet. Nevertheless, she proceeded to formulate a risky, but effective plan to get past the person in her way. Using inspiration from an iconic (and memeable) scene in a terrible, yet hilarious old movie, she prepared to confront the adversary and recited her plan. All of this was to rescue her pet from the acquaintance’s grasp!

Near the sidewalk’s edge, Sampo was carrying an empty trash can. While Sampo partaking in helpful tasks is an almost unheard-of sight, this time was an exception. Due to his recent museum thefts as “Mr. Cold Feet”, he was forced to serve two years of community service as punishment. To make sure he complied, various members of Wildfire and the Silvermane Guards supervised his work, such as Gepard and Seele. Originally intended for prison, Natasha and Chief Oleg vouched for his previous good deeds while he was a member of Wildfire, which helped lighten his sentence.

Regardless of the circumstances, Sampo begrudgingly cleaned up litter off the streets and took out the trash cans for emptying. With a bored-sounding sigh, he set the empty trash can he was carrying down in the fence-surrounded street corner. “Maannn, this is bad for business~! I’m losing precious customers and sales while I’m wasting away with this boring, non-profit labor. I can’t even get away to continue my pursuits, what with all these old friends of mine watching me!”, he complained, “...Though, I guess I can’t whine too much. I owe Wildfire for savin’ my bacon once they found out about Mr. Cold Feet, otherwise I’d be in the shackles right about now. And I must pay back any favor that I owe, or my name isn’t Sampo Koski~! Then… That’ll be my motivation for continuing this mundane freeloadin’ work… Oohh, the betrayin’ humility~!” He then proceeded to let out a half-groan, half-laughing sound. He didn’t care that he was talking this flamboyantly to himself, even while he was being watched, that’s just how Sampo’s weirdness works.

Dusting his hands off, Sampo then picked up a nearly-full trash can right next to the empty one he just put down. As it left the ground with an effortful heave, the spot it sat in revealed a stone-faced Stelle, who stood a short distance away. For some unknown reason, her deadpan expression then morphed into a wide-eyed manic grin. Feeling high from the position, she then yelled at the top of her lungs: “GARBAGE DAY!!!” This led to Sampo looking at her, his eyes barely peering over from the trash can’s massive cylindrical shape. All he could mutter out in his distracted mood was, “Huh?”, in a confused manner. Then, without hesitation, she whipped out her baseball bat and pointed it like a gun at him.

As soon as he realized what was happening, he tried to raise the trash can in front of his face like a shield to defend against the incoming attack. “No!!”, he yelled. She then chucked the bat at him, and it hit the rim of the can with a loud bang, which led to it bouncing off it and striking Sampo squarely in the forehead with its top-heavy side. He let out a painful, “Augh…!”, grunting sound as he dropped his makeshift shield and went crashing to the ground with it.

Finishing her over-the-top reenactment, Stelle picked up the bat that rolled all the way back over to her, twirled it, and made a sarcastic-sounding laugh with the same wide-eyed manic face from earlier as she put the weapon away. She proceeded to take a few steps and laugh once more. “Ha ha ha…”, she went.

Then, all it took was one look at the tipped over trash can Sampo was carrying, which had all of its trash spilled out into the street, for Stelle to snap out of her daze and regain sight of her mission. Unable to bear the sight of its injuries, she ran over to it to check to make sure it was okay. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry, little one! I didn’t mean to hurt you, I was aiming for your kidnapper. Geez… You have a dent in your side… Here, lemme comfort you!”, Stelle empathetically said before lifting the trash can up and holding it like a small child, “Shhh… Shhh… It’s okay, I’m here for you. Nobody will hurt you ever again. An adorable trash can like yourself deserves better…”

While she continued to soothe it, a sketchy but charismatic voice rang out on the ground near where it had fallen. “Psst… Hiya, Stelle! I’m kinda in a bind down here. Could ya lend a hand to your ol’ pal, Sampo~? I’m not sure why my favorite client would assault me, I told you to watch the face in the past before!”, the mercenary doofus muttered out with the typical goofy smile he usually wore when conducting “business”. Ignoring him, Stelle began to put the trash bags back into her trash can she was still holding, all while saying: “Don’t worry, I’ll adopt you as my pet! I’ll feed you trash bags and cuddle with you everyday! On top of that, I’ll also fix your dent and give you a name… …Yeah, your name is now… …Trashie! It’s an honor for you to become the Galactic Baseballer’s partner in trash. So, come on, lemme take you back to your new home, Trashie! The Astral Express is what it’s called…”

After finishing clean-up duty, she then carried her newfound “pet” (can, trash bags, lid, and all) away with her back to the Space Anchor she teleported from. And she did all of this while having a parental smile on her relaxed face. Watching this madness unfold, Sampo slowly sat up in confusion, his head still throbbing from the attack and his body still sitting in the street. “What was that all about? Oh man, my head’s gonna keep killin’ me for the rest of the day… Maybe I should just “sneak away” while I can. I can hear customers callin’ Sampo Koski’s name~!”, he said sneakily while he began to scheme. Unfortunately for him (but not for everyone else), his thoughts were interrupted by his security supervisor, Pela, yelling at him. Facepalming, she sternly commanded: “Hey, no slacking off!! Get back to work! I’ve got my eye on you, Mr. Cold Feet! This is what you deserve for your crimes!”

He stood up fully and replied, “Alright, alright… Fine. I guess I owe it to ya for not throwing me in jail. Still, what about me gettin’ assaulted? Surely, that’s not something that can be tolerated! But I don’t wanna see her get in too much trouble, please don’t press charges, she did so much for little ol’ me~!”, in a half-sympathetic, half-joking tone. Not impressed with his exchange, Pela scoffed and continued her orderly droning. “...Hmph! That doesn’t concern me. I don’t have the energy to report it, I’ve been too busy writing my-...”, she stated before she reverted to an embarrassed manner as she almost revealed her secret hobby, “...T-That’s not the point! Just… DO YOUR JOB!!” He nodded at her flustering and saluted her. “Aye aye, valued customer. Just leave it to the reliable Sampo Koski~!”, he said. She sighed as he returned to his work, and everything went back to normal, free from Stelle’s influence, which helped suppress Sampo’s silliness.

…

Back on the Express, the crew’s anxious silence continued on for what seemed like hours, even though only ten minutes had passed since Stelle left them. Right when March 7th was about to go search for her herself, Stelle teleported back into the parlor car, now holding Trashie as her newly acquired pet.

“Whew… You made it back, Stelle! What a relief!”, March 7th gasped in respite while wiping her brow, “Where’d ya run off to? And, um… why’re you holding a trash can…?” Realizing what occurred, Dan Heng shook his head and quietly responded with: “Wait for it…” And, as if right on cue, Stelle began to explain herself. She lifted Trashie up higher and patted it a few times affectionately so everyone in the room could see it.

“Fellow Trailblazers, meet Trashie! This cute lil’ trash can will be the Astral Express’ official pet from now on. I rescued it from the streets of Belobog… You’ll all love Trashie, and it’ll make a good addition to our Trailblazing expeditions. I think I made the right choice…”, she clarified. Dan Heng then gestured over to March 7th after she finished talking, saying, “See? I knew it…”, in an unsurprised tone. “...Huh!? Uhhh…”, she stammered while scratching her head, “...This is supposed to be a pet? But it’s not even a living thing! She’ll have to pick an actual animal out, right, Himeko…?” She glanced over at Himeko expectantly, hoping that she would put a hold on Stelle’s odd behavior. However, perhaps not shockingly, she decided to reinforce/tolerate the situation, as if she was the permissive mother of the group (which she kind of is).

“Heh heh… Don’t be so hard on her, March! Some pets don’t have to be animals, since there are people who keep plants and even rocks as them…”, she exemplified politely, “Also, remember, this is Stelle’s decision in the end! And if she’s happy with her pet, then I think we should be as well.” Somewhat unsatisfied with this answer, March 7th failed to rebut the argument with: “Yeah, but… this is a bit of a stretch…” Dan Heng was starting to get annoyed at the pointless protesting, since he had given up any hope of getting his dream cat. So, he decided to ease her worries. “Well, it could be worse… At least we won’t have to worry about feeding, watering, walking, or cleaning up after it. And if… Trashie somehow needs attention, Stelle can handle it all by herself. It can be her punishment for not bringing us a genuine pet…”, he said conclusively, and he said the last sentence with a hint of disappointment in his voice. As an answer, she took a deep breath and said, “Sigh… You’re right… For once. And yeah, I’m over not getting my imaginary bunny now. I’m the same way with my stuffed animals, so I can understand her… enthusiasm. It’s whatevs, I guess!”, as all of her stress faded away.

That’s when Welt chimed in at last, not being sure what to say beforehand. “Well, I’m… glad that this all worked out, I suppose… Though, something’s been on my mind for a while… Stelle, you said you “rescued” this… Trashie? From what, exactly…?”, he asked. Stelle, who was near the lounging sofas, was clearing off a space for Trashie to sit on. While she was placing some of its trash bags on the sofa itself for some unknown reason, she answered the question with: “Trashie was being kidnapped right in Belobog’s public streets for everybody to see! By… Sampo, of all people. I rescued it by using my bat to force it out of his hands. And so, the Trailblazin’ Galactic Baseballer strikes out once again!” For a second, nobody reacted to her cringe, so she continued to rearrange Trashie’s bags like earlier.

Dan Heng just groaned after a while, and March 7th shook her head before proceeding to shrug her shoulders. “Normally, I’d be upset at you for attacking someone innocent and making your stupid jokes. But…”, she commented with a mixture of aggravation and confusion, “This IS Sampo we’re talking about, so… I’ll let it slide! I wish I coulda seen it, that would’ve been so funny! That blue-haired freak deserves a hit to the face. At least SOMETHING good came out of all this! Ha!” Welt’s face then scrunched up in surprise as he stumbled out, “I… don’t know how to respond to that…”, with an awkward disposition. This caused Himeko to chuckle and say: “It’s in the past now, so it doesn’t matter… All’s well that ends well!” Everyone uncomfortably laughed as the realization of the situation’s oddity crept up on them.

Once the silence returned, Welt spoke up once more, remembering that he had forgotten something important. “With that behind us… What’s the conductor’s opinion on keeping Trashie as a pet? Will they allow its… trash(?) to be spread here on the Express’ floors?”, he asked somewhat rhetorically. “Since you asked… In Pom-Pom’s humble opinion, Trashie can stay here as the Astral Express’ honored guest as long as Stelle can pick up its messes.”, Pom-Pom answered bluntly, appearing from out of nowhere, and everyone turned around to face them, “Like now, for example… All of you crew members should remind her that she must put away her makeshift bed once she wakes up, if she wants to keep her pet on Pom-Pom’s train!”

Confused at their response, the Express crew gave Pom-Pom puzzled stares. Then, they pointed over to where Stelle was, causing everyone to turn around and look behind them. In the span of a short minute, the entire rest of the crew somehow missed out on an usual sight that took place while they were distracted by Pom-Pom. There, on the sofa, was Stelle. She was sleeping on the sofa soundly, using one of Trashie’s bags (filled to the brim with plastic and paper materials) as a makeshift pillow, and she was holding the can itself in her arms. She had a relaxed smile on her face and she was sleeping hard, snoring softly all the while. She was also mumbling something about “Tatalov” in her dreams…

Himeko and Welt both had parental-like looks on their faces, not minding how strange the sight was. Meanwhile, Dan Heng and March 7th had sibling-like responses towards it. “How does she even do it…? I didn’t hear anything at all…”, he said while tilting his head with a confused expression. Smiling for the first time in a while, she optimistically stated: “Well, it’s kinda cute, I guess. Maybe keepin’ Trashie around won’t be so bad, after all… It’s doing what Himeko said a pet would do for Stelle. Hee hee! I swear, she’s just like an adorable lil’ raccoon over there!” 

The calm silence that followed spoke for itself when it came to everyone’s thoughts at that moment. While most of them were resistant towards the idea of Trashie at first, they all eventually came to accept it for what it was and what it did for Stelle. And the fact that they cared that much about her to accept her weirdness, no matter what, speaks in volumes for how kind the crew truly was. And as the celestial locomotive drifted through the cosmos, the smiles on their faces drove them even further, to truly become a strong founded family!

[Writer’s Commentary: Honestly, I have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote this… This insane idea I had about getting a garbage can as a pet occurred naturally to me as I was playing the game. Like usual, this ended up longer than I expected. And for some bizarre reason, I made it weirdly wholesome at the end, all while taking it absolutely seriously. That was not my intention, but it seems like it's something I can’t help but do. I apologize if that’s not what you wanted, reader, but this kind of thing just… happens when you’re writing sometimes. I don’t know if this is any good, but I don’t like it as much as the first one… Sorry about that… In more lighthearted comments, I parodied an ancient meme in this story by recreating it almost verbatim in the scene with Sampo. If you’ve never heard of it, it’s called the “Garbage Day” meme and it comes from an unintentionally funny scene from this terrible old horror movie called “Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2”. It’s quite old, so I don’t blame you if you’ve never heard of it. Once I started playing Star Rail, I realized that swapping the characters in the original scene with the game’s characters was the perfect parody material, and Stelle/Sampo were the most suitable for the reference! Here’s the link to it on YouTube if you want to watch it: https://youtu.be/i7gIpuIVE3k?si=iFnhj1lDXlCqA5a8. Anyway, that’s all I want to say. I won’t waste anymore of your time, so… See you next time!]

[roobylavender]

Hello! Thank you for your answer (I'm the Bruce loses his wealth anon) and you're so right about the potential for him to be in a teaching/mentorship field for civilian kids! And yeah the thought was prompted by how living in a literal manor and having that much wealth would isolate him from people to a huge degree even his peers and he likely wouldn't stop until an external shock like losing his wealth and gaining community.

I'm kind of obsessed with this au because it is genuinely baffling to me how the common understanding of Bruce is that he's a brooding pessimistic loner when he has literally devoted his life to an unattainable ideal of a crime free Gotham and has so many kids and is on multiple superhero teams. There are so many stories you could still tell with Bruce without him being Batman. And it actually works really well with the current obsession of deconstructing the myth of Batman. (1/2)

(2/2) You could explore the tension with his kids and students in how they feel about Bruce being happier without Batman while they are devoted to the superhero identity. You could give him an altered role in the justice league and explore the consequences of that. Or reveal his identity and see the response of the Gotham people now that they know Bruce as a peer. Like if we must still keep the crime fighting he could be a private detective helping people who don't trust the authorities get justice while actively being a part of the community. We can also explore the impact of both Bruce's philanthropy and Batman's vigilantism and explore the limits of both while looking at the material impact both things have caused on the community. There is endless potential for stories here that can be accomplished while giving Bruce's kids the freedom to become independent heroes and I am truly baffled why people want Bruce to remain trapped in the Batman identity. Sorry I just realised how long this got so sorry for the rambling asks (no one I know is into comics) and thank you for reading! 🌻🌻🌻

i couldn't agree more like you summarized it so succinctly! people need to drive their bruce analysis beyond the idea that bruce is nothing without batman bc it is so not true and he has so much to offer as bruce wayne! esp love your point about how it can potentially create tension with his kids bc that really should be a huge crux of how his relationship with them is explored. the fact that if there was a world where he didn't need to put on the mask he would let it go whereas with them you get the feeling their entire existence is for the sake of the mask and to their own detriment is incredibly impt. and it's really interesting people have projected the latter reading onto bruce increasingly as time goes by to the point that they believe batman supersedes his own existence, bc it's quite ahistorical. i sometimes wonder if people even understand the point of the knightfall arc or bruce's run with tim at all bc it seems all too many come out of it thinking that bruce's return to batman is necessary bc it's all he'll ever be and he's the only one who can be batman. but i think the conglomerate effect of knightfall and whatever subsequent arcs there are through rucka's run (and in spite of the many flaws in some of those stories) is to establish that bruce wayne as himself is an uncompromisable identity that cannot be lost or subsumed by the mask. what bruce does is impt and he does have somewhat of a duty to uphold by putting himself out there in the first place but that doesn't mean his own life is without value or that he can't want for personal things and exact change through his civilian identity. that seemed to be the core message of the rucka arcs esp and while i don't think it was executed flawlessly, whatever impact it had i do think was diluted by the fact that morrison was his successor and essentially walked back all of the effort rucka made to bring bruce back to himself

* also a side note but i imagine the strongest counterargument to whatever i'm saying here is denny o'neil's depiction of the batman identity and while you're not at all arguing with me on that here it's something i want to address about denny's writing style in general. i think my biggest criticism of him is that he's a painfully archetypal writer. he's great at establishing core traits for a character but it's very evident he was at his peak with dc in an era where long term continuity was not necessarily impt and comic runs were largely ruled by one-shot storylines where maintaining the integrity of the character was more important than necessarily driving them to change or evolve in any way (and that's an issue that shows up in his writing of talia as well imo and even to the point i believe it explains very well why he wanted to do death and the maidens, regardless of how differently it turned out from the original concept). it's easy for a lot of people to say the batman identity will forever and always be the absolutely priority to bruce in light of what denny has written without accounting for the fact that denny wasn't necessarily interested in seeing bruce actually grow as a character. in some ways his stubborn attachment to standard form is a blessing but in other ways i also think it's a hindrance and i wish people would acknowledge that

[sanctamater]

"that's all that matters in the end."

deathless prompts. no longer accepting. @thomasrainier

there is a shared silence between them - one that speaks of understanding, but not comfort. never comfort. war was not for comfort; nor was yet another end of the world, another thread in a never finished tapestry - it was for surviving. and they have both survived so many things, she thinks - too many; and while many would claim that the maker loved to test his faithful, the good lady cannot help but wish he would stop and allow them some rest. she has not stopped running since the blight - no, she will never stop running; and when the sainted lady looks at ser blackwall; really and truly looks, she sees that same motion, mirrored. repeated. they used to say that the good lady could weigh the entirety of another's soul with one look; used to say andraste herself had blessed her with such divine judgment. they used to say a lot of things - but she is no more divine than any other soul upon thedas; and thanks the maker for that miracle, small as it is. but she does not need divine omnipotence to see that blackwall, for all his strength and steadfastness, is running. and if a grey warden is running, then should she run too? no. blackwall may be running, yes - but here, he stands his ground - our lady will too.  " that is a... sobering truth. " her cheeks are tinged pink; the cold mountain winds biting at her skin and everything seems infinite from this height; safe within strong, tall walls and she shuts her eyes; takes a deep breath. she had never intended to return to fereldan - fate had decreed otherwise. much like her faith, it burns her still. " it all comes back to duty. " how she folds in upon herself; makes herself smaller, softer; quieter - things she'd swore she'd never do again, but repeats, unending. and looking at him now - the good lady cannot help but think upon how different they are; how ridiculous she must seem. but she understands - she does; or at least, she thinks she does.  blackwall's idea of duty may be as different from hers as she is sure his idea of sacrifice is - but duty is still duty at the end of the day, and a death is always a death; be it for the grand and unknowable future, or in the service of preserving the world as all knew it; and it is something, she thinks, they can both understand - something that binds deeper than blood. duty, sacrifice. how it has walked with them more than their own shadow has - bearing different forms and names and weights, but present all the same. " how does it feel, then? " she's speaking with that saint's voice, soft and low; something she'd sworn she'd left behind as surely as she had buried herself on that riverside. " is it crushing, knowing what you must do? what will be done? " her own seems so small compared to the survival of all life upon the world, and all who swear to uphold and protect it - as always, she thinks of elizabeth. " some days i feel like i am drowning in it. but it is all i know. " it is all i will ever know. ser blackwall, she suspects, is the same.  " it is all i know. " repeated, as though it would change anything. it is all i know. and though she has such sorrow in her eyes, our lady knows it is better, at least, for her. the maker had tasked her with this - she would not stop until the spirit left her, until her body gave up. elizabeth first, thedas second. that was how it was - how it always would be; and for a moment, her expression is as serene as the carvings of andraste on her pyre. " i would, you know. " a pause - she shuts her eyes. " if it meant my duty was fulfilled, i would die for it - to ensure her protection. would you not do the same for your own? " a pause, then - and she takes the time to look upon ser blackwall; meets his eyes unflinchingly. he cares not for nobility - she can respect that; and to take offense is beneath her. instead, she offers truth. " perhaps it would be better to die for duty. there is nothing left for us afterwards. "

[pxmun]

Back at Shining Time Station, something or better yet someone began to stir awake. Uknown to most to most, inside the jukebox at Shining Time lived a band of “Little People”. This jukebox band would perform various songs for Shining Time’s passengers in exchange for nickels. The band’s manager. J.J. Silvers was slowly rising from his bed. The manager looked over at his large alarm clock and panicked, he had overslept! JJ immediately jumped out of bed and rushed towards his closet to hastily get dressed. Once he had done so, JJ dashed into the band’s bedroom. “People, people, this is not a drill, I repeat this is not a drill! We’ve overslept, which means we are losing out on valuable nickel time”! JJ announced. From their beds, Didi, Grace, Tito, Tex, and Rex hopped out of bed and rushed to their dressing rooms. “How late are we today JJ”? Tito called out. “At least two hours.” JJ answered as he looked at his pocket watch. “Two hours? Now that’s what I call gettin’ some beauty sleep.” Tex replied. “You look like you can you use a whole nother hour Tex.” Rex responded. “I could say the same to you Rex.” Tex said. “I know, that’s why I said it.” Rex said. The band were quickly ushered to the elevator lift by JJ. “I hope Schemer hasn’t slapped the “out of order” sign on us yet.” Tito said. The elevator dinged as it stopped on the stage floor. “We’re here! C’mon, c’mon, it’s magic time people”! JJ said. Up on the nickel rack, JJ saw one nickel sitting in wait for the band to play. “Great, we’re still in business! Now, let’s see what the first song of the day is.” JJ said as he searched for the chosen song. Grace has just got done tuning her base when she noticed something. “Hey, do you guys hear that”? Grace asked. “Hear what”? Rex asked. “I don’t hear anything.” Tex responded. “That’s just it. The station is quiet, too quiet for this hour of the day.” Grace noted. The other’s quieted down and listened for any noise coming from outside. It was dead silent, there was no sound of passing trains or passengers walking about, not even the humming from the other arcade machines could be heard. “What’s going on? Did Stacy close the station early today”? Didi asked confused. “Tex, Rex, give me a lift will you”? Tito asked. The cowboy twins helped lift their friend up to the one- way window. Tito peered out into the station. He looked around. There was not a soul in site and the station looked unkept and abandoned. “Uh, fellas I don’t know how to say this, but it looks like Shining Time Station looks completely and utterly abandoned"! Tito said shocked. “Abandoned?  Now that’s insane.” Grace responded. “Just how long have we’ve been asleep”? Rex asked. Didi then noticed a note tacked to the wall behind her drum set. She untacked the note. “Hey guys look! It’s a note from Mr. C”! Didi said. The band quickly gathered around their drummer, eager to know what their conductor friend had to say. Didi read the note aloud, “Dear Jukebox band, By now all of you are likely wondering what’s going on and why Shining Time Station is empty. I’m sad to say that as of the time I’m writing this, the station has been officially shut down. As all of you are aware things had been getting pretty bad in Shining Time City, but I would have never imagined that people could do something so terrible. That was one very frightful day, one I don’t think anyone will forget. Because of this Stacy and the others decided to shut down the station, even Schemer was in agreement. Stacy will be moving to California; the poor woman feels like she has failed everyone despite all of us telling Stacy that it wasn’t her fault. I’ll be accompanying Stacy to California as I still have my original duty of keeping an eye on the cost to uphold. My sister will be coming by later today to help me move. As for all of you, I have used sleeping sand to put the band in a temporary slumber until I return. If I haven’t gotten back to Shining Time Station by the time all of you have woken up, then that means “they” got me. If that is the case, I need you guys to do a major favor for me. You all need to get to Sodor immediately and warn Sir Topham Hatt that the danger coming to the island will not be that far away. I hope to the stars above that this won’t be the case. I have to get going now, take care of each other and with any luck I’ll see you all soon.”            Sincerely your friend,                                              Mr. Conductor P.S. Little Darius left the nickel in the jukebox, he wanted the song “Kasey Jones”. JJ and the band felt the jukebox go cold as reality slammed into them. The station was abandoned, which meant they were out of business and to top it all off the island of Sodor could be in grave danger.  Didi was the first to speak up. “Maybe Mr. C doesn’t know we’re up yet. Let’s give him a few hours.” Didi pleaded. “Didi, I know how much you care about Mr. Conductor, but right now we need to get going. Mr. C asked us to go to Sodor and warn them about an impending threat and as his friends don’t you think we should honor his request”? Grace asked. “Yes.” Didi sniffed. Grace hugged her friend in comfort and soon the others joined in as well, including JJ. Once Didi was back on her feet, the band began packing up for their venture. “So, JJ how exactly are we getting to Sodor? Ain’t it still split off in another realm or something”? Tito asked. “My dear boy it’s rather quite simple, all we need is just a bit of gold dust and “sparkle, sparkle, sparkle” we’re on Sodor just like that”! JJ answered. “But JJ.” Tex said. “We don’t have any gold dust.” Rex added. “We used the rest of it the last time we were on Sodor, remember.” Didi said. JJ looked frustrated. “Rats! Guess that’s out then.” JJ said. “What about the magic engine, can’t she take us to Sodor”? Grace asked. “She can, but the problem is Lady only stops for humans and, we, well we haven’t been human in quiet some time now, haven’t we”? JJ answered. “Well, what are we going to do then”? Rex and Tex asked. JJ paced back and forth, trying to think of something. “I got it! We’ll just find someone with a sense of adventure and convince them to come with us to Sodor”! JJ said. “And just how are we going to do that? I don’t know if you noticed JJ but were little talking puppets and you want to ask a human to come with us to a magical land inhabited with sentient talking engines and other forms of transportation.” Grace said. JJ realized how ridiculous his idea sounded. Then another idea came to his head. “I know how we can get a human to take us to Sodor”! JJ announced. “Really, how JJ”? Tito asked. “No time to explain, we need to make our way to the hospital pronto”! JJ said. “The hospital”?! The band asked confused. “Yes, now come on, come on, we’re burning precious moonlight people”! JJ said. And for the first time in years, the Jukebox band left Shining Time Station and headed out into the night, making their way towards Shining Time City.