#why so full of death and sorrow

[perchingominouslysmwh]

DO NOT REPOST

this is an experiment in drawing neatly :]

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Love After Death

Yandere Skeleton x Fem Reader

I’m obsessed with Kate Bush’s song ‘Army Dreamers.’ So I decided to write a story about a soldier who died during a war, but he came back to life just to fulfill his promise of coming home to his lover…

There was a Great War many years ago between monsters and humans. A war that took countless innocent lives all due to the human’s greed. A war that took the life of your lover, Zered. Your childhood sweetheart.

Zered was a young sorcerer from the magic tower. A prodigy and pioneer of magic with a heart of gold. He was the man you had planned to spend the rest of your life with. You wanted to run your fingers through those blonde curls until the two of you were balding and wrinkly. To look into those sea foam eyes until you couldn’t. To press soft kisses against his full lips until your lungs burned. You loved that man more than anything in this world… but the war took him from you.

Zered may have died a hero of the empire, but you couldn’t help the bitterness that seeped its fingers into your heart. Your beloved was no nothing more of a war story. A great sorcerer who was able to take down the dragon enemies to give time for reinforcements to arrive. A war hero. And they couldn’t even bring a single remain of him back to you…

You sighed as you sipped on some homemade ale. Your eyes glanced at the sun’s rays that danced across the hay fields in sorrow. This was the cottage the two of you were going to live in for the rest of your days. The one you’d start a family in that was now cold and empty. It didn’t matter that the sun hit it perfectly each time, Zered wasn’t here.

You rock back and forth in the rocking chair. The birds weren’t singing their melodic tunes like they normally did. Which was odd. Why weren’t the birds singing- you almost screamed when you see a dark figure slink through the meadow towards your cabin. What on earth was an undead doing here?!

You quickly sprang up from your chair and fell over since you were a bit tipsy. Crap. Crap. Crap! You needed to head inside before that creature got to you.

You let out a shrill shriek of terror when the skeleton stood in your porch. Its red eyes stared into your very soul as it tilted its head to the side. Oh god… this was it. This was the end. You were going to be ripped apart by this hideous creature-

You went still when the creature threw itself into your arms as it released weeping noises. The skeleton whined and shook as its arms wrapped around your body in a tight hug.

“H-home. I… home.” The skeleton’s voice was a spin chilling rasp. A small tuft of blonde on its head showed that it was once human.

What did it mean by being home- wait. This cousin possibly be?

“Zered?” You gasped when the skeleton pressed its teeth onto your cheek like it wanted for press a kiss against your cheeks. “Zered, what happened?”

“Home… home.” Zered was barely to rasp out legible words. The skeleton cupped your face in its palms. “Love you… I home.”

[thesirenisles]

Pluto’s Sirens 🦂

beauty, love astrology observations ✨

scorpio sun, scorpio moon, scorpio mars, scorpio ascendant , Scorpio lilith, Black moon lilith

8th house placements including Lilith

Lilith aspects, Pluto Aspects, Venus Opposing Trine Conjunction Square Pluto, Ruled, Dominant

Pluto in the 1st house, Pluto in the 8th house

“She knew death quite well. She often drowned. But, never in fear. The storm waters of love, pain, and sorrow filled her lungs and from their depths, she rose metamorphosed — a captivating phoenix of the sea.”

-The Siren Isles

do not steal any of my original work. All rights reserved. © 2024 The Siren Isles | Leave a tip if you enjoy! 🧜🏾‍♀️

🦂Child of Pluto,

The stunning dark beauty that disappears intermittently, only to reemerge a brand new person.. having lived another full life to it’s completion.

You have walked the Valley of Death and your essence was fortified by means of eternal hellfire. There’s really no wonder why you’re so intimidatingly hot. 🔥

As a water sign, this is similar to the siren-like energy of Neptune. However, a Neptunian might unwittingly lure suitors to their death, but you, Plutonian Goddess are the siren who wants the kill.

🥀You are the siren they fear.

You are a mistress of the deep, a beacon of light through the annals of life’s taboo topics like sex, death, occultism, and mystery.

When considering Plutonian energy, I imagine the scorpion deep within a fierce ocean of emotions, burrowing deeper and deeper into the sand… searching and feeling…

Deep within these depths is where you thrive. The drowned woman… I say this because Scorpio is a fixed sign, meaning its energy can be stagnant.

So, it is literally fixed water or stuck water. Being stuck underwater can symbolically connote to drowning.

This is also where the big misunderstanding of Scorpio comes from because… a scorpion does not belong underwater?? Yup, you’re an anomaly.

But, hence this is literally why you cannot stay under water for too long. You’re meant to dive deep beneath the surface, transform yourself, others, and your surroundings BUT only for a little while.

If you try to resist and stay submerged, life literally pushes you to transform and resurface for fresh air. By the end of your journey, you come out reborn anew, carrying nothing but the wisdom you’ve gained.

At your core, you are here to transform yourself and others.

With this energy, you are always digging and craving depth wherever you go, whether you realize it or not just like the scorpion. This could be for emotions, the truth, or other extremes.

Your plutonic vibrations sometimes does this for you and easily charm souls into revealing their darkest and deepest desires to you.

Pluto has gifted you with a gaze that certainly helps to compel information, while also commanding authority and exuding power. (It’s giving Vampire Diariesss)

🥀A fierce siren, you wish to take hold of your romantic partners, friends, and families and lead them to the deepest depths of human existence.

But, this is only an attempt to free them from the confinement of the human ego and mundanity.

🦂The Misunderstood

The Scorpio/ 8th house slander is endless. But, I feel it’s just misunderstood. I love Plutonian energy. I find it refreshing, possibly because I have Scorpio 11th house & Scorpio Mars lol.

But, I get them. My longest friendship is with a beautiful Scorpio Sun and I have never had to second guess her loyalty.

She has been through more than anyone would guess, but maintains a heart of pure gold. Her shell is hard to crack though.

This is because you guys have seen the other side of life… death. You are aware most people aren’t living their truths or even knowledgeable of the truths of this Earthly realm… and it infuriates you at times.

It’s not easy being the one who sees a liar in a fake smile or an enemy within a friend. You see people without their masks and you call them out when needed… including family.

This can ruffle many feathers, of course. We all know how truth tellers are deemed in society.

And to some, your intense need to dive deep can terrify them and trigger them because in some way they are not living their authentic truth.

But, it’s meant to!

Pluto in the 1st house natives know this reaction well, as they wear the hellfire mark wherever they go. This triggers those who are not comfortable with darkness or their own shadow self.

Significant Lilith placements can resonate with this energy. Your presence and rebel energy triggers those whose identity is based upon a facade.

A Plutonian is a friend with their shadow self. They have seen the likes of all darkness.

You are the wounded warrior with these placements, (and honestly deserve so much more and so many hugs for what you’ve survived🥹) But, you seldom allow anyone to see you sweat or any weakness.

This need to conceal weakness hides your incredibly, loving heart and loyal spirit.

You can come off a bit brash at times. (Think, Jade from Victorious… Marlo from The Wire.. Matthew McConaughey’s character in True Detective) But, Its hard to empathize with those who seem ungrateful for their less challenging life paths or who refuse to make simple life changes out of fear.

You are like a butterfly. You have lived several lives, experiencing completely new things at each stage of life, but ultimately improving yourself each time.

While painful at times, that’s your superpower. ✨

The ironic part is that people see you in your Butterfly phase, ornate wings and beautiful colors, and assume you have not had it hard.

Until you sting. 🦂🩸

Absolutely incredible and yet so misunderstood.

Believe me when I say, it is such a GIFT to be able to transform in a world where Saturn’s energy reigns supreme.

🥀A piece of advice I leave to you all is… while understanding death.. DON’T forget to LIVE. Take a page out of the book of your sister sign, Taurus or Planet Venus… pamper your soul. 💅🏾

You are allowed and capable of just as much happiness and soft living as any other soul. Do not be afraid to open up and love or allow yourself to be loved.

You ARE loved over here! ❤️🫶🏾

🦂La Petite Mort “Little Death”.

To possess significant scorpio or 8th house placements is to live through many small deaths to be born anew.

Ironically, while Pluto rules sex, the French saying for an orgasm is Le Petite Mort … or “Little Death”.

Perfectly fitting.

With these placements, you can transform yourself and others through your sexual encounters.

🥀Your sex is transformative!

The sexual energy exudes from your pores, thanks to Papa Pluto and those around you can smell the fragrance.

When a suitor spots you, perched upon a rock amidst the chaos of the ocean… they can’t look away.

They don’t know what it is about you, but they are drawn… hooked and captivated by your watery siren gaze.

You call to them on the shore… and they approach only to be grasped and delivered to the bottom of the ocean for an unforgettable awakening.

This is why Scorpios/ Plutonians/ 8th housers rule the sack. There is less inhibition, less hesitation, and your goal is sink your prey… to the depths… and transform them. (This gives me chills to think about… very powerful stuff!)

Both men and women of Pluto have this quality. Even if they aren’t perfectly symmetrical or dreamy, you have to admit they are HOT AF & their raw sexual energy caught your eye and made you wonder if you even possess the endurance to swim in their waters…

Keep transforming the world Plutonians! We need you!

Thank you for reading! Wishing you blessings💋

Neptune ♓️⬅️✨ MERCURY♍️♊️ Mars ♈️♏️✨ Venus | masterlist

Alton Mason (Scorpio Sun) and Kofi Siriboe (Scorpio Pluto, Moon, Jupiter STELLIUM 😮‍💨)

@thesirenisles | masterlist | Enjoyed? Support!🧜🏾‍♀️

[yourmidnightlover]

the sun

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?

warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

wc: 2.6k

a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!

you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.

tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.

6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.

half of the world, gone in a moment.

in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...

sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.

this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.

"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.

"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.

she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.

a positive pregnancy test.

you were having bucky's baby.

without bucky.

you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.

they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.

god, it hadn't even been two months.

how were you supposed to do this alone?

"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.

eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.

"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."

you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.

"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.

"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."

"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"

"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"

-

you knew you were around eight weeks along.

according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.

bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.

banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).

you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.

within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.

in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.

you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.

as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.

he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.

"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."

steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.

you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.

she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.

just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.

you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.

he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.

he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.

he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.

truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.

in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.

oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.

and within the week, you were having your baby.

steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.

"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"

"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.

"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...

"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."

-

the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.

crawling, first words, first steps...

you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.

but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.

you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.

how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.

not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.

you never took off his dog tags, either.

steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!

you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.

banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.

then, you got a call from tony and banner.

it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.

of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.

the only thing is that nat never came back...

next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.

is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?

then, you felt a buzz in your hand.

although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.

shocker.

after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...

but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.

he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.

when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.

"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."

"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."

you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."

his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.

within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.

"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.

you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.

upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.

"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.

his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.

meeting you. falling in love. dying?

his son.

he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.

"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.

"i love you so much, both of you."

[darklordofthesimp]

Wrath (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

Summary: After you risk your life protecting Ghost, the Lieutenant is furious. Angry enough, in fact, to pay you a late-night visit.

Requested by @chippyroh :

#69 Shut up or I'll shut you up.

#71 You’re driving me out of my fucking mind

A/N: Listen here you little shits, I will not be making a part 2 to this and you cannot convince me this time.

Category: Sexual Tension || Angst || Enemies to ? || Hurt/ Comfort

Warnings: Graphic language, Manhandling/Rough-handling, Sexually suggestive themes.

It was meant to be an easy mission but, really, what were you expecting?

You were experienced enough to know that when it was meant to be a breeze, you had to prepare for a fucking hurricane. And as Ghost stormed towards you, his fists clenched and his gaze furious, you knew this was gonna be one hell of a storm.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He didn’t stop until his chest bumped into yours, heaving and hard. His wide shoulders swayed from side to side as the officer sized you up. “Are you fucking stupid?”

You grit your teeth and glared. “I just saved your fucking life, Sir.”

You weren’t much in comparison to the towering figure that Ghost presented, you knew that. Still, you stood as tall as you could manage and set your jaw. You were right to provide him with backup. You were right to have taken out the people on his tail.

You’d done everything right.

So, why was he so fucking angry?

“Don’t start this shit with me, Sunshine,” Ghost hissed, fingers wrapping around your bicep. He pulled you in flush against his body, your armoured plates knocking against his. “That was out of line.”

“Saving your life?” You questioned, bewildered. “Saving your life was out of line, Ghost?”

His eyes narrowed and a deep rumble reverberated in his chest.

“No,” he snapped, leaning back. “Pretending you were anything but a fucking sniper was, though.”

Your breath left your lungs as though you’d been sucker-punched. You searched what little features you could see for an ounce of regret, any softness in his features to show he didn’t mean it- but the kohl on his eyes only highlighted the sharpness of his gaze.  

“This isn’t over, Sunshine,” Ghost warned, snatching his hand from your arm. He imparted a glare that had your throat tightening, before he brushed past you roughly.  For once, you wished you had never made it home.

______

You were angry at yourself for crying.

It was in your own shower and hidden from the rest of your unit, but you were still upset.

Your life was insane and full of enough sorrow to destroy most, and there were more than enough reasons to justify an emotional break. However, crying over a man? You were ashamed. Embarrassment seared red hot across your chest, it made your blood boil- it made you angry.

Who the fuck did he think he was?

You had done everything right. Price had clapped you on your back upon your return, commending your quick thinking. Ghost had scoffed at that, watching the interaction from the darkest corner of the room.

“Leaving your post is not ‘quick-thinking.’” The words had been a snarl from beneath his bloodied mask.

Price raised a brow as you shifted on your feet furiously. “I saved you on the evac, Sir. There was no fucking post.”

Ghost took a step toward you, his finger pointing at your chest as though he were marking you for death. You were thankful Price stepped in, you were angry but you weren’t stupid. You didn’t want to go toe-to-toe with the grim reaper himself but you would to defend your actions.

“How about you both hit the showers and cool off. Good job on today,” he gave the two of you a pointed look, “the both of you.”

You said nothing, only returning Ghost’s glare vehemently before storming off.

Your clothes felt too soft on your freshly scrubbed skin. It always felt like that after a mission; everything smelt too good, felt too good and sounded too quiet. It would take you a couple of hours to adjust, but your blood burned at your surroundings.

You were already overstimulated and now you were uncomfortable.

Fuck you, Simon Riley, you ingrateful twat.

You wanted to find him and shake some sense into him. You wanted a fucking thank you. You wanted his recognition, his approval and you seethed at your desire to feel accepted by him.

You dried your hair roughly with the towel, your frustrations translating into your menial tasks. Angrily shower, angrily dry off, angrily get dressed- you were fucking furious and you couldn’t get past it.

Bang, bang, bang.

You gasped, dropping the towel as someone battered against your door. It shook on the hinges under the pressure, and you stood frozen for a long moment. It was late, there was no reason for anyone to be visiting.

Everybody from the 141 was out and about, you and Ghost had returned a day earlier than expected.

You frowned as they knocked again with the flat part of their fist, the dull thuds picking up in volume. You scooped the towel from the floor, throwing it over the chair in the corner.

��Coming,” you shouted before they could go for a third round. You worried the frame wouldn’t hold up much longer. No sooner than you had twisted the handle, the door swung open. You leapt out of the way, eyes wide as a towering figure stepped through the threshold, slamming the door shut behind them.

The lock engaging behind him sounded like a death knell.

“Sir-“ you rasped, stumbling backward as he approached you.

“Cut that shit out,” Ghost snapped, “you know my fucking name.”

Fuck.

You stared up at him with wide eyes, as you continued back into the room. He was furious, just as heated as he had been when he’d gotten back from the mission. The man had clearly showered and changed, standing before you in a hoodie and balaclava.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You glared at him, heart leaping into your throat as your back finally hit the wall. Ghost’s eyes slid to each side of you, marking how you were trapped between your own furniture.

“You know what you did today, Sunshine,” he said heatedly, “everyone can congratulate you about it as much as they want but you listen to me. Never do that again.”

You sneered, leaning forward. Ghost inclined his head, meeting you halfway as your noses nearly brushed. “I saved your life within the parameters of the mission and I’ll do it again and again if I fucking have to.”

“You were almost killed!” Ghost’s finger rose to press into your chest harshly. “Almost had a fucking bullet put between your eyes.”

“But I didn’t! Had I not stepped in you would have been a fucking pin cushion, Simon!”

You were forced back into the wall as he smacked an open palm into the plaster beside your head. You jumped at the sound by your ear, your lip trembling beneath his gaze. You could feel the heat emanating from his body in waves, he was fucking burning.

“What?” You whispered, your mouth dry all of a sudden. “You gonna fuckin’ hit me, Riley? You gonna hit me for doing my job?”

“Of course not, you idiot.” He snapped, leaning back. Ghost’s eyes narrowed as his hand slid from the wall by your head, resting at his side.

“Why are you here then? Barging into my room, locking the door behind you, putting me against the wall,” you listed, your voice low and urgent as you glared at him. Your chest heaved against his as you raced to catch your breath. “You’re either here to fuck me or fight me and we both fucking know that you hate my guts, Riley. So, get to it and get the fuck out.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine,” Ghost rasped, shifting on his feet. “You deserve to get your shit rocked for the way you acted out there.”

 You searched his gaze, his eyes the colour of a stormy ocean as he glared right back at you. “You don’t even know what you’re doing here,” you snarled, leaning forward once more. This time, Ghost didn’t challenge you. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved, L.T?”

“Shut up,” he snapped.

“Your life is worth more than mine, Simon,” you growled, poking a finger into his chest. “You’re my superior, it’s my job to protect you.”

“Then fucking listen when I say shut up, or I’ll shut you up.”

“Sniper or not, if it ever came down to me or you- it’s my fucking job to die for you-“

Your back slammed against the wall, breath leaving your body at the impact. You were disoriented for a short moment, vision hazy as you tried to regain your bearings. His body was pressed against yours, his hands gripping your shoulders so tight you knew you’d be bruised.

You couldn’t think, you couldn’t anticipate his next move. Not when he gripped your jaw, half his fingers on your face and the others wrapped against your neck. He leaned down and you flinched, opening your mouth to gasp.

He wasn’t going to hit you.

Instead, Ghost kissed you.

You don’t know when he had rolled his mask upward, but his mouth was hot and urgent against yours, groaning when he swallowed your gasp before it could come to fruition. He tasted sweet on your tongue and poisonous to your mind, drowning all your inhibitions in his touch. You whimpered against him and a wicked smile curved his lips upward.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. Your hands gripped his shirt tightly as his free hand moved to tangle itself in your damp hair, your dripping strands locked tightly between his fingers.

When he pulled away you were dizzy, your head falling back to rest against the wall. Your chest heaved as your heart pounded against your ribs, demanding to be freed.

There was nothing but silence for a long moment, the space between you both filled with his ragged breathing and your shaky gasps. You were so close you could taste him, his forehead pressed against yours and his eyes squeezed shut.

“You’re driving me out of my fucking mind, Sunshine.” Ghost rasped finally, his voice throaty and strained. “You just don’t fucking listen.”

You swallowed thickly, eyes trained on the beast before you. You’d watched this man tear people apart with his bare hands. You’d seen him take bullets to the chest, seen him snap necks and tear limbs.

But those fingers that had wreaked so much havoc rested on your throat softly, now. So gentle, as though he thought you would crumble beneath him if he squeezed.

But he wanted to grip tighter, and you knew it. You could tell by the twitch of his fingers, by the clench of his jaw.

“I can be taught, Sir,” your voice was barely a whisper but Ghost’s eyes snapped open as though you’d yelled at him. He watched you, like a predator observing its prey. You wondered if he thought he’d misheard you, maybe he was praying that he hadn’t.

When he leaned in close, your body shivered against his as adrenaline spiked your system.

“I’ll fuckin’ teach you to listen, Sunshine,” he murmured finally, fingers tightening against your skin. “Don’t you worry.”

Maybe he didn’t hate you, after all.

[vexwerewolf]

why is it that we only have like two licenses from any mech producer that’s a good guy? For a game where like there are clear good and bad guys (even if who you play isn’t necessarily linked to that) it seems strange to me that the only loot and XP you get is… more benefits from the bad guys

I can tell you the answer, but to do so, we're gonna have to talk about a completely different TTRPG.

If you've read @makapatag's truly excellent Filipino martial arts TTRPG Gubat Banwa (and if you haven't, here it is), you may notice that every single character class description (with one notable exception) ends with one of these babies:

I am not Makapatag, and I cannot write with quite as much grace and eloquence as he can, but I will try:

If you choose to become a Lancer, ask yourself why you mock the name of peace with these weapons of war. You call yourself a saviour, but your steed was forged from the murder of a world. You stride across the sky in a colossus built in your own image, so why are you too cowardly to give it your face? Why do you believe these machines of death can preserve life?

It is important to note that the admonitions in Gubat Banwa are not just there to make you feel bad; they are there as legitimate questions. The Sword Isles have seen so much blood, death and tragedy. Wars are not glorious and killing is not a game. So, knowing all of that, why have you taken up this discipline - no matter how noble and virtuous it might claim to be - to shed more blood, to bring more death, to write more tragedy? What could possibly drive you to this? What need is so great that you must kill?

The thing with Gubat Banwa is that there are legitimate answers to these questions! There are bad people doing bad things, and some of them will not be stopped with words or kindness. Sometimes, as sorrowful as it is, killing is the correct choice to prevent greater suffering and deeper tragedy - but adding less misery and death to the world is still adding some amount of it. Even the most necessary wars will drench the ground in the blood of the innocent.

A sword is a tool meant to kill humans; while it can be used for other things, it is not well-suited to anything other than this. A mech is, in its most basic essence, just a very complicated sword: it's usually used on things larger than a person, but it's still a tool built to kill.

So why have you taken up this path? Humanity was saved from the brink of extinction and has created wondrous technologies like printers, cold fusion and mind-machine interface, and yet you use them to play soldier in a giant metal man. Why do you choose to take up this machine of death, built by the greedy and pitiless? Why do you think these machines can ever make things right?

Because sometimes, despite everything, they can.

Warhammer 40K shows an awful world full of monsters and monstrosity, and in the darkest moments of its history, Lancer's world looked just as bleak, but Lancer's world differs in one crucial way. Warhammer's world has long given up trying to be better, but Lancer's world never did. Lancer's world kept insisting a better world is possible, and it used what tools it had to make it so.

Sometimes the correct choice, no matter how bitter it may seem, is to kill someone. When you need to do this, a sword is a perfectly good choice for the job.

If you find yourself discomforted by the fact that all the people you can buy mechs from are corrupt and immoral - good! You have correctly engaged with the text. You have understood that the sort of people who would make giant walking death machines and sell them for profit are not good people. But you still have a job to do, and you need the correct tools, and those people have them.

Lancer is not a game about a perfect world - it is a game about a deeply flawed and imperfect one that does not let its imperfection stop it from trying. You have to try to make a better world, even with imperfect tools made by unpleasant people.

[needfantasticstories]

“Many places I have been

Many sorrows I have seen

But I don't regret

Nor will I forget

All who took that road with me”

-The Last Goodbye by Billy Boyd

This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja, after 86 chapters, 300k words, and 10 months of joy, laughter, tears, heartbreak and love, has finally reached its end. 

Adjuration is a tragedy that is nothing short of an act of love. That much is clear in the passion and dedication put towards the story, the characters, and the message Freyja is trying to convey. This fic will teach you about love. About death. About the inevitability of existence and why despite knowing it will all come to an end, there is still meaning in trying and hoping and loving each other. In loving yourself. You will laugh, you will cry, you will hope and you will despair as you read this story, but you will not be able to put it down.

It’s hard to say goodbye to something that has been so important to and loved by so many people. So we won’t. Instead, we will say thank you for this incredible journey and the community this fic has built. For the friendships that have been made and the endless inspiration you have given us. Thank you for wanting to tell a story, and for letting us join you around the campfire to listen.

Thank you.

(If you like Linked Universe and haven’t yet read Adjuration, see below for spoiler free reviews of this fic and artist credits.)

This is an Adjuration is the kind of story you fall in love with, the kind of story you think keep thinking about long after you put it down. The kind you keep finding hidden details in after you think you’ve got it figured out. 

The characters are distinct and people with their own voices, motivations, relationships and histories. You’ll have your favourites but love them all. They influence how you’ll see the characters in everything else. 

It’s full of moments where everything clicks and everything before is recontextualised in a way that’s so satisfying and make the whole story very re-readable. A time travel story where all loops are already closed, where you can know but not yet understand what will happen. It’s long, complex, and beautifully, meticulously planned and detailed. It’s clever and considered, funny and heartbreaking. 

A story that whispers ‘it matters’ over and over. It is worth it to love, it is worth it if it doesn’t last forever, it is worth it to give someone a little more time, it is worth it to fight. It’s about loving others and your world and finding grace for yourself. 

It’s loss and tragedy and the cruelness of fate. It is the sacrifice and the breaking. 

Full of heart to both fill yours and break it in the best possible way. 

It’s about love. Always.

By @toyouhellohowareyou

Sometimes, it’s hard to explain to others why art moves us.

I could tell you This is an Adjuration will make you cry, laugh, and sit at the edge of your seat in anticipation. And it’s probably true - I did all of that as I read, often with a coffee in one hand, early in the morning as I got ready for the day. 

But that’s not the reason why I’m writing this.

The real reason is how it followed me during the rest of the day.

You see, at a certain point I realized this isn’t a story about Links going on adventures. Well, it does feature Links, and they do go on adventures, so let’s talk about that for a minute.

The first thing that caught my attention about this book was the characters. Each individual is unique, interesting, and exciting to follow. Not only are the Links individually compelling, but one thing that stands out in Adjuration is how the relationship between each Hero and their own worlds matter, and these connections shift, evolve, break and grow as the plot progresses.

Freyja does an incredible job of bringing together impactful storytelling with humor and heart. This is an Adjuration starts with an interesting premise, and then twists and turns in directions you wouldn’t expect. It’s rich in thought-provoking moments, soft joy and intense action, blended in with carefully crafted time travel and magic.

Adjuration sucked me into the world it builds, combining believable characters with fascinating stories, an unnervingly devious antagonist, plot twists, and lovingly crafted details that slip unnoticed until you’re surrounded on all sides. It made me cheer for characters I feel as if I’ve known intimately for years, made me worry for their safety as I would for that of a loved one, kept me hunting for hints and hidden references, pulling on a thread to try to find the end only for it to twist and loop into itself and show me a completely new side to the story.

Yes, This is an Adjuration is a fanfiction piece that explores the winding river flow of the Legend of Zelda timeline and how the stories of each Hero merge into each other. It also stands out for its heavy emotional content, and it doesn’t shy away from angst and hurt.

But to me, Adjuration is an epic journey that taught me how the choices we make, make us in turn. It’s a tragedy that deals with pain and healing, and it bares naked the non-linear nature of grief. It’s a celebration of the things that make us unique, of our flaws, an essay of the impact of little acts of love. Indeed, it’s a story about love.

I can tell you now, This is an Adjuration moved me. It still does. It has a special way to surface in my mind in unexpected ways at seemingly random times, from something as simple as tossing an apple core, to watching a lightning storm in the distance, or finding a picture of an old friend.

And every time, without fail, it makes me think about love.

By @sunny-porridge

This is an Adjuration is a wonderfully and beautifully crafted story about love, loss, and choice as the various incarnations of Link come together and travel through time. Freyja seamlessly weaves a tapestry of setup and payoff across different timelines and loops, in the best-constructed time travel plot I’ve ever seen on page or screen. Even at its surface, Adjuration is an emotional rollercoaster involving tragedy and the soft moments that make that tragedy worth it. But the deeper you look, the more meaning you can pull from every chapter of this amazing work. This work has made me cry, squeal with delight, and think more deeply about its themes all while having an absolute blast reading it. So in summary: READ IT. READ IT. READ IT NOW. YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT.

By @life-in-winter

While I love that every chapter is emotionally enthralling, with carefully woven, visceral tension you crave in any good story, yet Adjuration is more than that, and you feel it in the careful weave of each character and plot point. Nothing is lost or unanswered. It's the kind of story that, by the end, makes you stop and take a hard look at your own life. Are you appreciating the now? Are you savoring joy? Are you so wrapped up in fear that you can hardly take care of yourself? Do you know who you are?

This story is more like an external experience. It's riding atop a tsunami. How do you handle that ride, Link?

There aren't enough words to describe how amazing this fic is.

@needfantasticstories

Artist credit

Legend: @gia-d

Hyrule: @bittirsweeteer

Time: @toonblade

Sky: @noorahqar

Warriors: @whitewinterstar

Wild: @weavingstarlight

Twilight: @bluury2

Wind: @thewitchdoctor39

Four: @lunaopus

Red: @peepthatbish

Blue: @glowingmin

Green: @winterfen

Vio: @waterfallstream

Shadow: @deleetrix

Wolfie: @linkiscool333

Fierce Deity: @awildsilver

Ravio: @lele5429

Malon: @tooner-tastic

Dink: @passerinesoncaffeine

[neo--queen--serenity]

I’m still not over this conversation from the most recent episode. Yes, we knew that Tanjirou would be able to get through to Giyuu, due to their shared loss of family and loved ones at the hands of demons. And yes, we knew that Tanjirou still carried immense amounts of grief and sorrow when it came to these (still fairly recent) deaths.

But this is the first and only time Tanjirou has ever admitted to wishing that he had died instead of someone else. This is a huge and devastating thing for him to acknowledge about himself.

With his family, his survivor’s guilt was about not being there when Muzan attacked. Even though, realistically, he wouldn’t have stood a chance against Kibutsuji at the time, it doesn’t matter to him. This fact still constantly haunts him.

Rengoku’s death, though—this is the only time Tanjirou’s survivor’s guilt takes this shape, that his confusion and grief is so severe that he wishes that he had died instead.

Tanjirou tells himself that it’s because he believed Rengoku was capable of defeating Muzan someday. And there is some truth to this rationalization, but deep down, it’s an excuse. Rengoku didn’t survive against Akaza, a demon who—though incredibly formidable—was ultimately bound to have only a fraction of Muzan’s full strength.

Once the viewer understands this excuse for what it is, it hurts even more to understand why Rengoku’s death impacted him so heavily.

Tanjirou only knew Rengoku for a short period of time. And in that brief window, Rengoku managed to leave one of the greatest, deepest impressions on that him that few other characters were able to match.

There are many reasons why, but I think a huge part of it is because Rengoku was everything Tanjirou wanted and needed in his life at the time. He had other mentors up to this point, yes. But Rengoku was so similar to him, and his communication style was easy for Tanjirou to follow. He was affectionate, kind, morally sound, and near incontestable in a fight. Due to this, I think Tanjirou inadvertently saw Kyoujurou as the ideal demon slayer. The ideal fighter. The ideal person.

It doesn’t diminish his love for anyone else, not by a longshot. But Rengoku was, in ways Tanjirou may or may not have understood at the time, the perfect mentor for him. And that perfect person—someone he was desperate to learn from, someone he came to love so quickly and so fiercely—was snatched away from him before he could fully understand what he’d lost.

That’s why Tanjirou cried when Giyuu told him about Sabito. That’s why Tanjirou understood, without being told, that Giyuu was suffering from survival’s guilt. He heard and witnessed Giyuu’s despair firsthand, saw his loss and his struggle to live on and immediately empathized because it reminded him of how it felt to lose Rengoku.

[sunnami]

the marauders as. . . whatever these love languages are (ii).

“i’m so fucking tired, please god just let me rest for five minutes.”

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐒 𝐋𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐍 sees a monster staring back at him in the mirror—you tell him that you see a kind, gentle soul deserving of all things beautiful. he wants to bury himself beneath the ground, where the earthworms burrow and the primroses bloom one day. the mornings after the full moon are always the hardest. a new scar to his growing collection and fresh blood spilt on his wretched hands. he is a monster and there is no better word to define him than that. so why do you burst into his room, much like the morning sun—without a care for the moon’s sorrow—and smile at him like you actually care?

he doesn’t believe you’re real—only a mirage sent by his darkest nightmares to torment him. yet, how can torture feel so delicate and forgiving? still, you insist on seeking him out despite knowing he is a cursed man. you see the bloodied tips of his fingers where claws have grown the night prior, the crimson smudges in the corner of his mouth, teeth stained with the lives of innocent creatures he’s taken. he is a killer, and yet you stay by his side.

don’t you see?

he’s trying to keep you safe by pushing you away. one day, you’ll tire of him just as he has grown weary of living in his own skin.

why do you look at him as though he cannot rip you apart, limb by limb, with just a flick of his hand?

“because you are remus lupin,” you say, a cruel whisper in his ear, holding his head close to your heart, and shouldering his burdens, aches, and pains. “i will be here when the sun rises, and i will be with you until the earth knows the taste of our existence, when the vines creep over our legs and arms, and until you understand that love is not strong enough to explain why my soul calls out to yours.”

ah, remus sees it now.

he needs you just as a canary needs their wings to fly. his tears soak the fabric of your shirt, and you hold him closer until he feels you—and only you. you are the reason his heart still endures, hammering inside his ribcage as though it knows you are nearby. his body is but ruined flesh—even so, if the gods think he is deserving to bear witness to the innocence in your eyes, then perhaps he is not so much of a monster as he thought.

please, he begs to all the deities listening, do not take this pure creature away from me.

he would never ask you to share the weight of his damned fate, but he grieves at the thought of losing you—for remus might know true death, then.

a/n: did i go overboard with this one? probably. . .

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

Something of note about Lilia's tarot spread is that—it's hers. The cards she pulls aren't precisely who the characters are to themselves, but who they are and what they represent to Lilia. As her coven, in her life.

Like, I don't really know my tarot that well—I'm just pulling themes from within the episode and my general understanding.

But when she was reading for Billy, he was fittingly represented by the Magician. But for Lilia, he was the “windfall.” He was the tower, reversed. Miraculous transformation. Because she, having put the sigil on him, saved him from the destruction and lead to his miraculous transformation. And to her, he was the windfall, because without him, she wouldn't be here, with her coven. She wouldn't have found herself.

Alice's is very straight forward—“full of fire, fights bravely.” It's how Lilia saw her, what Lilia had once again predicted for her. 'Wound suffered, lessons learned.' Specifically, Lilia wasn't able to warn Alice, but she learned her lesson. So, this time, she makes sure to warn Agatha. “When she calls you a coward, hit the deck.”

And why does she warn Agatha? Agatha represents her 'obstacles,' after all. Maybe so—Lilia's literal obstacle at this stage ends up being the Salem Seven, who merely want Agatha. Yet she chooses to stay behind to save a woman who probably wouldn't do the same for her. And the reason is—for her, Agatha is the Three of Swords. She looks at her and sees Heartbreak, (Rio) Sorrow, (Evanora) Grief (Nicholas). And Lilia is willing to forgive her—to sacrifice herself for her—even if the universe itself doesn't think she deserves it. This is different from how Agatha views herself, or even how Billy views her, since he initially pulls out the Chariot. One might say it's a random choice, but the Chariot is described as representing “determination, success, and control.” It's about overcoming challenges and gaining victory through maintaining control of your surroundings—which, I argue, embodies Agatha pretty well. So The Three of Swords is who Agatha is to Lilia. She doesn't hate her, or see her as a force to be reckoned with. She pities her. After all, the Queen of Cups is defined by her empathy.

Then, of course, Jen. Jen is Lilia's path ahead. Not only because she has a brilliant future of her own ahead of her in the mcu, now with her powers unbound. Because Lilia senses all the trapped light and bound power that Jen carries—“The High Priestess: Immense spiritual power, unable or unwilling to use it--” but also because Jen, the survivor, is the one who will carry on Lilia's memory. All those centuries, Lilia had been alone—there was no 'path ahead.' Everything was a jumbled mess, her “path” was non-linear and twisty. And Jen, after centuries of solitude, was her light in the dark, guiding her through the dark tunnels, as her mind wandered through her timeline searching for answers. Jen was the only person in centuries who bothered to see her as something more, to acknowledge her strength, and to help her fill in the gaps as best as she could. And so Lilia sees so much hope in Jennifer—who won't stop becoming better and better. Because for Jen, the Queen of Cups is her path behind. Wound suffered, lessons learned. “I couldn't save Lilia, I didn't even try to save Alice, I'll be damned if I let you two idiots die.”

Finally, Death, Rio. Well—it's obvious. In tarot, death isn't literal. It's mist often symbolic. Transformation, end of a cycle, new beginnings. Which is why we never see Lilia's corpse, and we never see Rio collect her. Because unlike Alice, Lilia went into the afterlife willingly. And for her, it was a beautiful release. After years of running out of time—she got to start anew—knowing that this time, she managed to save her coven. (I'd also like to think that the reason we don't see Rio collect Sharon is because it was a peaceful death—joining Mr. Davis instead of suffering further. Whereas Alice finally had something to live for, but I digress. I've already made my posts about Alice.)

I think that this is all relatively obvious—but I genuinely can't stop thinking about Lilia and her dynamics with the rest of the coven.

[coffee-and-geto]

“CALL MY NAME FROM THE OTHER SIDE!”

“That’s it sweetheart, just listen to me.”

pairing: ghost! choso kamo x f!reader | kinkoctober

summary: on your wedding day, your husband died. ever since, when nothing goes right in your life, choso has to come into your dreams, and when you wish he’d show up for real, you don’t know that a curse has hit you. and that a certain choso haunts your dreams — even the hottest ones…

warnings: +18 MDNI, smut, nsfw, mention of blood, husband! choso, widow!reader, pet names (angel, my love, sweetheart, baby), kinda voyeurism (kink), fluff, slight angst, choso comes back as a ghost, masturbation, oral (f! receiving), erotic dreams, fingering (f! receiving).

wc: 1,402

On your wedding day, your husband died.

A tragic start to the rest of your life, isn’t it?

But how else could this story begin, when the stark memory of vivid crimson blood splattering across your pure white wedding dress still haunts you to this day? It’s impossible to forget.

That very night, after the briefest, most sorrowful of ceremonies, you tried to sleep, hoping to escape the nightmare your life had suddenly become. Just as it had started, your life had already fallen apart.

Choso was your first love, the one with whom you planned to build a family, to live a life full of joyful memories.

So what do you do now?

The shock hit so hard that you began seeing him in your dreams — Choso, with his jet-black hair tied back in little ponytails, resting against you after a long day of watching over his brothers. His warm breath, that adorable gaze, and his comforting presence…

God… Why was he doing this to you?

Was he haunting your dreams?

If that were the case, why didn’t he just manifest himself already, goddamnit?!

But would you have truly wanted that if it somehow became real?

Because what started as a mere wish became a curse cast upon yourself.

Every night after that, Choso came to your dreams. He slipped into your bed beside you as though he were alive, keeping you company like the husband he should have been.

And every time the dream felt too real, you jolted awake, as though he had been there. But the empty side of your bed always reminded you that it was all in your mind.

Until one night, Choso in his ghostly form slipped into your bed like a thief, not just a figment of your imagination.

What began as a gentle kiss in your dream transformed into something far more erotic…

And then it became real.

Hovering over your bed, Choso’s ghostly figure watched you, his gaze tender as he observed you writhing slightly in your sleep under the covers, your eyes squeezed shut, lips slightly parted as you whimpered his name in soft, needy tones.

Choso laid beside you, carefully brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and in that liminal state of sleep, you could feel his touch faintly, like an impression of warmth and closeness that was all too vivid.

“Poor sweetheart,” he whispered gently.

And, unconsciously, your hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pajamas, fingers rubbing at your sensitive, needy clit — all part of the dream… right?

In the darkness of your room, you felt your body heat up, a dampness pooling between your thighs as you dreamt of Choso kissing every inch of your body, leaning down between your legs, teasing your most sensitive parts.

And it was in that same darkness that Choso loved watching you, his heart heavy with regret that he could not manifest himself since his death, not until you unconsciously summoned him.

So, you began having these erotic dreams about him each night, dreams in which he fulfilled his husbandly duties in every way you desired.

Every night, you would close your eyes and find him there, a perfect, comforting presence so close to you in your mind’s eye.

His expert mouth on your clit, his tongue sliding along your slick folds, and even more.

The first night, you had to use your own fingers, working yourself desperately as you moaned Choso’s name, pressing harder against your sensitive core, seeking relief for the ache that his memory alone ignited.

The second night, the dream intensified, and in your half-sleep, Choso lay beside you, his presence so strong that you whimpered his name, even as you felt tears slip from the corners of your eyes. He reached to wipe them away gently, but as he started to pull his ghostly hand back, you grabbed it, eyes still closed, guiding it under your pajamas.

Choso swallowed, startled, wondering how your half-sleeping self could still feel him so vividly.

“Please, Choso,” you pleaded quietly, your body’s need guiding his hand to exactly where you ached for his touch. “Please…”

If Choso could still blush, he would have turned as red as a ripe tomato. But he couldn’t resist you. He had so many questions, but he knew his priority was to make you feel better as he slowly traced his fingers along your slick center, stroking up and down as you squirmed beneath his ghostly touch, your legs falling open even wider.

Choso circled his index finger around your sensitive bundle of nerves, teasing it slightly before lowering his touch and slipping a finger into your warm, welcoming depths when you whispered for him to do so.

“Mmm… Ah, Cho, feels so good,” you murmured, brows knitting as you bit down on your lip. You rocked your hips forward, and Choso couldn’t ignore the hardness straining against his ghostly form as he fingered you slowly. “Don’t stop…”

“You like this?” Choso mutters, kissing your temple so, so tenderly.

You nod slightly, your eyelids still shut. “Mh-hmm…”

And you look so peaceful listening to him that he can’t help but encourage you by saying, “That’s it sweetheart, just listen to me.”

You squirm, your hands gripping the sheets as your dream-turned-reality completely intoxicates you. You sniffle softly, finally feeling that deep, aching pleasure that only your husband could provide.

Your gummy walls clench around his finger, gripping tighter each time he pulls out. The sensation is dizzying, intoxicating, almost obsessive. Choso’s breaths come in slow, ragged gasps as he watches your face contort with pleasure, and he can’t help but add a second finger, curling them the moment they reach your sweet spot.

Your back arches, and a soft, adorable moan escapes your lips. Your eyes flutter open, focusing on the ghostly form of your husband.

“Cho?”

“Sweetheart?” he murmurs, thrusting his fingers more slowly. “You’re awake?”

“Cho,” you mumble, realizing he’s truly there. You turn towards him, pulling his form close as you sob softly into the crook of his neck.

“Shhh…” He pulls his slick fingers from your warm center, returning your embrace. “I’m here…”

“Missed you,” you whine, feeling the warmth of your salty tears rolling down on your cheek and end up dribbling in droplets on Choso’s neck.

“I know, I know,” Choso soothes, his heart heavy with emotion. “I won’t leave you again, my love.”

A silence falls over you, only broken by the rhythm of your synchronized breathing.

“Were you dreaming of me? Sorry about my fingers; you took my hand and—”

“I know,” you whisper, gently guiding his translucent wrist back down to your soaked core. “Please, I need you again…”

He slides his two fingers back inside you, pumping them with a faster pace, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. The wet, lewd sounds of your arousal make both of you smile. Your walls grip his fingers, urging them to plunge deeper.

With deliberate, slow movements encouraged by your soft gasps, he adds his thumb to your puffy clit, circling and rubbing intermittently to intensify the overwhelming pleasure.

You grab his shoulder with a firm grip, digging your nails in — surprisingly, he feels almost real — and pant against Choso’s ear, whispering how good it feels to be touched by him.

“God, so good,” you mewl. “Feels so good.”

You tighten around his digits as he continues striking your g-spot with each thrust, his knuckles sinking deep into your needy core until you’re gasping his name like a woman possessed.

“Cho, ah, please,” you moan, hiding your face against his chest, and he only smiles, savoring your sweet pleas. “I’m so close…”

“Hmm? My baby’s close? You wanna cum on your husband’s fingers?” he purrs, dotting your neck with soft kisses as he intensifies his rhythm. “Then come for me. Cum for your husband, angel, okay?”

You nod helplessly, moaning his name in a broken voice as you tighten around his fingers one last time, riding out your high. He feels you pulsing even after you catch your breath, and a comfortable silence settles over you both.

You trace idle patterns on his chest with your fingers, resting your cheek against where his heart would be, while he wipes his fingers with a handkerchief nearby. Pulling you close, he rocks you gently, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

For now, you have your husband back.

a/n: hey :D so, i admit it’s not like me to do such a short one-shot, but for choso’s, I didn’t really want to do too much. i wanted to do something quite smutty at first, but i didn’t have the strength to do more lmao

but now what i can’t wait to write is the next werewolf!satoru one-shot hihi! i’ve already got the ideas and— anyway. you guys will see, i’ll keep it a surprise :))

likes and reblogs are truly appreciated 💕

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappennedtobeenhappy-blog @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar @monokaix

[endangeredrandomfanfics]

"A Mother's Defiance"

Summary: Agatha x Rio x Reader Where in the scenario Nicholas never happened but the reader did and Agatha beg Rio not to take them, based on the episode 9 of Agatha All Along -Chapter I

Chapter II

A/n: I'm weak for Agatha and Rio being mother's

===============================

The forest was silent and heavy with mist, as if nature itself had drawn a veil over this secluded place. Agatha stumbled through the dense thicket, her hand pressed firmly to her belly, her breaths shallow and rapid. She could feel it—the heartbeat within her growing faint, slipping further from her grasp with every painful step.

“Please… stay with me…” she whispered, her voice barely a murmur against the rustling of leaves and the cold whisper of the night air.

Ahead, the shadows seemed to twist and shift, growing thicker and darker. A familiar presence manifested from the haze—a tall, cloaked figure who moved with an ethereal grace, as quiet and inevitable as the night itself. Agatha’s breath hitched. She knew who stood before her without needing to look up.

Rio. Her love, her partner, her solace… and the very embodiment of death itself.

The two women locked eyes, and for a fleeting moment, all the memories they had shared seemed to pass between them—years of devotion, secrets and laughter stolen in dark corners, and promises whispered under starlit skies. But tonight, there was no warmth in the gaze Rio held; her face was calm, but her eyes carried a sorrow too deep to fathom.

Agatha sank to her knees, her fingers trembling as they clutched her abdomen. “No…” she whispered, her voice cracking. “No, not them.”

Rio stepped forward, her hand reaching out as though to steady Agatha, but then she hesitated, her fingers hovering in the cold night air. “Agatha, my love,” she said, her voice gentle yet unyielding, as steady as the ticking of a clock. “You know why I’m here. You knew this day would come.”

A sob escaped Agatha’s lips, and she doubled over, cradling her belly as though she could shield the fragile life within her. “Please,” she gasped, looking up at Rio with eyes full of tears and desperation. “They haven’t even had a chance… our child, our hope… they haven’t even seen the world yet.” Her voice trembled. “Don’t take them away from me. Not yet. Please, my love, not now.”

Rio’s expression softened, and she knelt down beside Agatha, her face a mask of quiet anguish. She reached out, her hand cupping Agatha’s cheek with a tenderness that betrayed the sorrow in her heart. “You don’t know how much it pains me to do this,” she murmured, her voice laced with grief. “If there were another way, I would take it. But the balance must be kept, and I am bound to my duty, even if it means…” Her voice broke, and she turned her gaze away, struggling to keep her composure. “Even if it means taking this from you.”

Agatha’s face crumpled as she grasped Rio’s hand, pressing it desperately to her face as if she could hold onto her love’s touch forever. “Then break the rules,” she whispered fiercely. “Just this once, my love. You’re Death, yes, but you’re also mine. I’ve risked everything for us. I would give my life, my soul, anything… just to keep our child safe. Please…”

Rio closed her eyes, a single tear tracing down her cheek. Agatha could see the conflict tearing her apart, the war between duty and love waging a fierce battle in her eyes. “To defy the laws of life and death…” Rio whispered, her voice as fragile as glass. “It could unravel everything. It could destroy us both.”

Agatha shook her head, her grip tightening as she looked at Rio with all the fierceness of a mother’s love. “Then let it,” she replied, her voice fierce and unwavering. “If it’s a choice between losing you or losing them, then let it be me who’s lost. Just don’t take them, my love. I beg you.”

Rio’s composure wavered, her face contorted with pain. She glanced away, her voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the night. “You know that I cannot deny you… not when you look at me like that. Not when you call me by that name.”

Agatha felt a flicker of hope, and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Rio’s. “Please, my love,” she whispered, her voice filled with raw, aching desperation. “Save them. For me. Just this once.”

Rio’s shoulders slumped, the weight of her choice pressing down on her like the weight of the entire world. She reached up, cupping Agatha’s face in her hands, her thumb brushing away a tear. “If I grant this mercy… it will be borrowed, not forgiven. The debt will come due, and one day, I will have to return.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “When that time comes, nothing will stay my hand.”

Agatha’s tears streamed down her face, but she nodded, her voice breaking as she promised, “Then we’ll cherish every moment until that day. I’ll guard our child… with everything I have. Just give them a chance, my love. Please.”

With a deep, shuddering breath, Rio closed her eyes and began to murmur ancient words, a language older than the stars. The forest seemed to tremble, the shadows rippling as if in protest. Agatha felt a surge of warmth spread through her, and the faint heartbeat within her grew stronger, vibrant, a light against the darkness.

A gasp of relief escaped Agatha’s lips, and she sank into Rio’s arms, her sobs turning to laughter as she held her love close, clinging to the miracle that had been granted. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she buried her face in Rio’s shoulder. “Thank you, my love.”

Rio held her, her own tears falling silently as she pressed a kiss to Agatha’s forehead, a promise and a farewell all in one. “This life is borrowed, Agatha,” she murmured, her voice heavy with sorrow. “One day, I will come to collect the debt, and no power will hold me back.”

Agatha pulled back, looking into Rio’s eyes with fierce determination. “Then I’ll protect them. I’ll protect us… no matter the cost.”

Rio’s fingers lingered on Agatha’s face, a final touch as the shadows began to pull her away, her form beginning to dissolve into the mist. “Until we meet again, my love,” she whispered, her voice carrying a promise of eternity. “Remember… I am yours, in life and in death.”

As Rio’s form faded into the night, Agatha clutched her belly, feeling the steady heartbeat within—a heartbeat saved by a love stronger than fate, bound by a debt that would one day come due.

The forest, now quiet, seemed to close around her as Agatha remained kneeling in the wet earth, her body trembling as she tried to catch her breath. The moment of peace didn’t last long.

Suddenly, an ache seized her body, sharp and overwhelming. She gasped, clutching her stomach, her eyes wide with fear. Her body, which had been so still just moments ago, seemed to come alive with the force of the contractions. The pain was unbearable, worse than anything she had felt before. It was as though her body was splitting in two.

“No… no, not now…” she whispered, her voice hoarse as she stumbled to her feet. The night air felt suffocating as her legs gave way beneath her. She dropped to the ground, pressing her hands against the earth, the sharp pain cutting through her like a blade.

The forest held its breath as Agatha cried out, her body betraying her with every agonizing wave. She could feel it now, the child within her, pressing against her, trying to force its way into the world. Their child. Her child.

Her tears mixed with the rain that had begun to fall, the forest around her alive with the sounds of her struggle. She gritted her teeth, her nails digging into the earth, willing herself to hold on, to keep fighting for the life within her. “You can’t… you can’t go… not yet,” she gasped, her voice broken.

With every scream, with every tear, the child within her fought to be born.

And then, with one final, overwhelming push, the pain shattered, and the cries of a newborn filled the air.

Agatha collapsed back onto the ground, her arms trembling as she pulled the tiny, fragile life into her arms. She held them close, feeling the warmth of their tiny body against her chest, their heartbeat a steady rhythm in the quiet night. She breathed in their scent, her heart swelling with a fierce love.

“You’re here…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You’re finally here, my love.”

The baby nestled against her, their cries fading into soft whimpers as they settled in Agatha’s embrace. She rocked them gently, her tears of joy mingling with the rain. For a moment, everything felt still. The world seemed to pause, and she held her child—her and Rio’s child—close, savoring the sweetness of this moment that had almost been taken from her.

And though the night was dark and the forest whispered all around her, Agatha felt a profound sense of peace. “I will protect you… with everything I am, my love. No matter the cost.”

________________________________________

A/n: Shall I turn this into a series?👀 Following the events of WandaVision and Agatha All Along???

[hajimesh]

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐cold sheets. gojo satoru

why show up in my dreams and visit only when I'm dreaming? you're high above, carried up into the clouds. why can't you just come home?

manga spoilers‐heavy angst. ₊˚⊹ ⚝ major character death, depression and grief, hurt little comfort, bittersweet fluff, mom!reader, gojo being a boy dad, unnamed baby gojo

word c. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ 500-ish

𝄢♭ghostin ‐ ariana grande / where's my love ‐ SYML

"my mochi–... –behaving?"

there it was, his bright smile beaming at you. the room was blank, empty, he stood out like he always does. did.

"tell him–... dada–... –soooo cute!"

his voice, it was everywhere. as if amplified by a speaker before suddenly echoing in your head only, the background noise gone—it sounded clear, crisp.

suddenly, his eyes softened, a small sigh brushing past his lips which stretched into a fond smile this time.

"i love you... and i miss you like crazy, princess."

you woke up with a start, a bit lost for a second, but once you were aware of your surroundings, the tears ran effortlessly.

a dream.

while still adjusting to the brightness of your bedroom, your hands went to your chest as if cradling your battered heart. the thick comforter felt light compared to the heavy weight of your sadness pressing down on your chest, clawing at your throat.

more tears wetted your cheeks even if you blinked rapidly to keep them at bay, lashes wet and lips trembling while goosebumps bloomed all over your skin.

it felt as if he truly had just spoken those words to you—hauntingly real.

"mama!"

the soft rustle beside you called for your attention, stopping you from spiraling down all over again. his face–no, his baby's face stared at yours. your baby.

our baby.

the twelve-month old looked confused, as if he could sense the sadness pouring from you, but happy nonetheless with a toothy grin directed at you.

"mochi..."

the nickname was out in a broken sigh, full of sorrow and grief. your tears contradicted your smile, cradling the little boy in your arms.

it's both a punishment and a reward how alike he is to satoru. not only by his looks, but personality wise. you can see him each time the baby smiles, happily gurgling and nuzzling against you, seeking love and attention just as satoru does.

used to.

"baby mochi..." you smiled through your sniffles, blowing a small raspberry on his cheek. "dada says you're so cute. remember dada?"

as if understanding what you meant, your baby boy replied to your words with a happy grin, squealing in delight before nuzzling against your cheek.

"da-da... dada!" clapping his tiny hands together, he squealed again in your arms, chubby little legs bouncing his small body in glee.

a sad laugh escaped you, "that's right, mochi. dada!"

the gray clouds made that particular morning gloomy, reminding you of the day satoru left this world only leaving a piece of him behind to cheer up your days and continue being loved by you.

[minimomoe]

Love Never Dies

Tags: MDNI, Zombie! Toji, talks of death, suggestive content

wrd ct: 686

song inspo: After Hours- Mr. Kitty

A/N: gonna drop some halloween drabbles here and there. also, choso will get a short vampire story. let's have fun this kinktober!!!

You thought you had said your goodbyes to Toji just a few weeks ago. You held a funeral for him and everything. You identified his body at the morgue, watched his casket get lowered in the ground, tossed the first handful of dirt to solidify the beginning of the end, yet you still had this lingering feeling of uneasiness.

Toji Fushiguro was dead...........................right?

Toji's presence never really left your side even when you had (try) to sleep on your own the first night without him after the funeral. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but you were sure you could still feel his hands on the small of your waist, or hear his voice from other parts of the house. God, maybe you are finally losing it.

You almost screamed your head off when you visited his grave and saw that it had been dug up. The full moon hung low in the air, lighting up the grave at which you wanted to see your late husband. The only thing that prevented you from calling the police right then and there was that there was something strange about the whole thing. Maybe it was too late to save you from your mind because the grave looked broken from the inside out...

Zombie! Toji who reached out to you carefully because he knows this entire thing is like a nightmare come true. You nearly jump out of your skin when his hand touches your shoulder, your eyes full of fear, then wonder, then unbelievable sorrow. He left you alone for too long, you had to deal with everything by yourself. You didn't pull away when his hand cupped your cheek. It was as cold as ice, proof that he was dead, had been dead, but was also standing right in front of you. The why or how didn't matter to you, all you knew is that you got your husband back.

Zombie! Toji who wasn’t sure on how he got here either. All he knows is that he woke up with the burning need to get back to you, no matter what it took. Despite everything that has happened in his life, he always had an unconventional stroke of luck every once in a while. The old tale of Halloween lifting the veil between the living and the dead was actually fucking true and he used it to his advantage

Zombie! Toji who laughed against your lips. He knew that he was always going to be yours. Your tears spilled into his mouth, salting his lips and tongue, but it only made him kiss you harder. His love for you spat in the face of the grim reaper. Taking you on top of the headstone was not how he thought he would reunite with you, but it was fitting. You welcomed him into your body like he had never left, and in the heat of climax he renewed his vows. For better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, "but never will death do us part."

Zombie! Toji who did not know how much time he had so he spent every second with you like it was his last. There wasn't a single inch of your skin untouched by him. In the end, you laid in his arms inside of the casket, recounting all the moments you fell in love with each other until the sky began to lighten to start a new day. He cursed the sun for rising for stealing away his joy. You assured him that you were okay now, that one more night was all you needed. You were putting on a brave face for him, but it was needed. This time you two could say goodbye on your own terms.

Zombie! Toji who promised to come back for you next Halloween. This was a temporary setback, but in the year between he will find a way to be reunited with you forever. There was nobody else for you, so you held onto his promise like a lifeline. It will keep you going until you meet again. 

thanksss for reading! lemme know who you want to see next!!

Kinktober m.list || Ao3 || Twitter|| Ko-fi

[angelltheninth]

Spiderverse Characters Lost Another Version of Their Lover in Their Universe

Pairing: Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Peter B. Parker, Hobie Brown, Noir, Peter Prabhakar, Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Tags: angst, different dimensions, pining, flirting, protectiveness, mention of death, a real bad time for our favorite Spiders

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: Ok I lied, not everything will have a happy ending.

MILES

Is your silent protector, as a hero and as a civilian. Keeping a distance from you seems to be the best way to keep you safe so that is what he will do. Yes, he wants to be your boyfriend again, he wants to be the guy who makes you smile, and sometimes he is, when you run into each other in the halls and he tells you a joke but he limits his interactions with you. He will never tell you why he keeps you at arms length, you wouldn't get it, and if somehow you did then that would mean he dragged you into his dangerous world again. Which means he can lose you all over again.

GWEN

Lost her best friend and she lost you too shortly after the first time she came back to her universe. This loss almost broke her, she wanted to quit being a hero but then she remembered there was another version of you, also in potential danger in her friends universes. In every universe she looked after you, became your friend who would vanish for a few weeks and then come back. She explained herself as having family in many places so she visited them, but always made time for a version of you. What she would give to be with you again, but she can't.

PETER B. PARKER

Came very close to telling you the truth, how he wasn't your Peter and you weren't the version he first fell in love with. But he couldn't tell you that when he was dating you now, when it was him you kissed and went to bed with every night, when he got to see your smile every morning and come home to you. This time he won't mess things up, he will make you happy. It does mean he has to lie to you about some things, and these lies do weigh on his heart but no more than losing you again would. At least this time he can make sure you're safe, you're away from any danger of his superhero life.

HOBIE

Flirts with you all the time but never commits to a full date with you, sending you lots of mixed signals. It's like he can't help himself, can't keep his mouth shut, can't stop himself from stealing a kiss from you when you're walking and bantering back and forth. You were, and still are, his biggest weak spot so he never flirts when he's in his superhero persona, only as the charming musician. Always makes sure to bring you home safe and sound, as both personas. Gets really guarded when you ask him about the bruises he gets. You don't need to worry about him, this time he will do all the worrying.

NOIR

Wouldn't even think about trying to be with you again, no he will protect you but you won't even know it. Like a shadow, or a guardian angel that you will never see, only suspect is there, that is what is best for you and him. For his heart especially, which can't go through seeing you die in front of him, the red color mixing with the monochrome colors of his world. The first time it happened he took a break from work for a full year, drowning in sorrow. He has a chance to make things better in this dimension, to make sure you never see darkness.

PETER PRABHAKAR

He takes a while but he does eventually approach you and the two of you start dating, again in his case. The flirty, cute attitude he has is occasionally broken by a more serious face, one that he hides away just as quickly as it was there. When this happens he distracts you by taking you on a fun date, telling you how lucky of a guy he is to have you, that he never thought he'd be this happy again. It's all very vague, intentionally so, but sweet enough that he gets to a smile from you, a few kisses here and there as well, just to make sure you're having a good time. He will be the best boyfriend you ever had.

MIGUEL

Really hoped he would be able to keep all to himself in this dimension and stay away from you unless absolutely needed but fate really seems to love messing with him. Over and over again he's had to save you from getting hurt. It's like the universe is trying to force the two of you together no matter how he tries to put the distance between you to. As a civilian he only sees you in passing, greets you here and there, buys your favorite drink at your favorite café, but he never stays. It's the little things in your life. Maybe some day he will be able to talk to you, but for now he will stay on the sidelines.

[messiahzzz]

i have been thinking a lot about mystra’s relationship with gale, how reducing her to “his ex” really is an understatement. she was and still is so much more than that. moreover, using the term “ex-girlfriend” in relation to her plainly feels wrong and diminishes the influence she has over him, as well as the role she played in his life since his childhood (and it also trivializes the abuse he suffered through her).

there are several instances where gale gets defensive when his companions mention or ask him abt mystra. he claims that their relationship was no less real even though most of their interactions were incorporeal.

we have already established that gale is an unreliable narrator in this particular case, still not having fully come to terms with the fact that he was groomed, manipulated and abused. he ping-pongs between bouts of realization (even in his romance), gaining clarity that he was merely used and eventually discarded and that mystra never truly cared for him, back to making light of his situation, idealizing her once again. realizing the extent of his trauma, that he is indeed a victim in this scenario, unlearning what he has been made to believe from a young age is a slow and painful journey. he is in the process of healing, but it takes time. time he deserves just like anyone else.

which makes me wonder what their relationship really looked like, once the lines between teacher, muse, and lover began to blur. i also feel like one of the reasons why part of the fandom still struggles to identify mystra as his abuser, is because she is a white woman who initially presents herself in a soft-spoken, benevolent manner… and well, the fact that gale himself is ambitious to a fault and a lil insane about the promise of power. he also briefly mentions "crossing mystra’s boundaries” when he confides in tav and tells them about his folly. (“i am, after all, the villain in this story.”) which led to a looooot of misinterpretations.

leaving the overall lore and mystra’s treatment of her other chosen aside — what we can discern from her interactions with gale in-game, is that mystra is civil as long as she remains in control and gale follows her demands, but as soon as there’s even a slight mention of challenging her power or defying her rule, she rather quickly changes her tone.

there is also one particular exchange between them that just won’t leave my head:

“you were many things to me, but never a threat. and never a savior."

even if we choose to blatantly ignore the fact that mystra is a deity, his goddess - there is no possible way that their relationship ever could have been equal by any mortal standards. the power imbalance that comes with her being his teacher and a symbol of his admiration, plus the sheer control she holds over him and his powers are simply too great. don’t even let me get started on how it is a common tactic of abusers to isolate their victims from any outside influences so they can exert full control over them. and how up to meeting tav and their merry band of misfits, every single soul he was close to was inevitably tied to mystra in one way or another. he briefly mentions his colleagues and then there’s elminster, also mystra’s chosen and former lover, and tara, who is a fine wizard in her own right. he spend so many years in service of her, dedicating his life to her, that now there is no one left he can truly call a friend. most of his little anecdotes and stories he tells are restricted to his childhood and university days, everything else was mystra.

evidently, ordering gale to detonate the orb is the most efficient course of action in her eyes. he is just as expendable as any other mortal, after all. maybe once significantly more useful given his status and the extent of his powers, but she doesn’t feel sorrow nor remorse for ordering him to end his life. his death is simply the most convenient means to an end.

another thing i would also like to briefly touch upon is the trigger/detonator itself. a dagger to the heart. it could have been literally anything else, a simple incantation. it is well within mystra’s power to stabilize the orb and also to remove it from his body entirely. but no, what she requires of gale is to stab himself. one might argue that it was simply a cinematic choice meant for a more dramatic effect, but it really leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. especially considering the fact that she is commonly known and referred to as a jealous goddess. it almost makes it seem like yet another form of punishment or mere pettiness. after his long period of isolation, gale is now surrounded by fellow humans. people he cares about, even perhaps people he might eventually consider good friends — which is enough of a reason for him to not want to die, to keep going and try to find another way, rather than to blindly follow mystra’s bidding. now there’s a group of people who support him and are genuinely invested in him staying alive. hmmm...