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sampsonstorm-critical · 4 months

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So. I DID watch Hazbin Hotel. And oh boy. So I'm going to give my critique on the show.

"antagonists and supporting" Characters- A bit better than Helluva. Studio oversight curbed some stuff. The characters somewhat had their own personalities in their dialogue. Some characters I thought could be cut out. I'm sorry but Sir Pentious is one of them. He's too cartoony even for this universe. He's annoying on the level jar jar binx was in star wars. Same with Mimzy. I think they could've done much better with Adam, but they just made him a dude bro? I did like the Seraphim sisters. Lute was just a bitchy, cynical, anime antagonist. Nifty was a bit aggravating too on the same level as Sir Pentious. I liked Husk as a character. Lucifer being a crushed dreamer fallen angel was actually interesting however his take on his people that he rules? Now if he was actively choosing to punish them himself using hells tools, it would be one thing? But he just has depression??? I guess? After thousands of years? Instead of trying to reconnect with his daughter, he just Mopes??? Like a sad boy??? No. Sorry. You lost me. Cherry Bomb? Meh. She's pretty shallowly written.

Now!

Main Characters -

Charlie- I hate her. I hate how fucking useless she is. She's the main protagonist for fucks sake. Now if she started like this and actually got better as the story went along in season 1, then alright. But she just gets her ass kicked and daddy has to save her skin. Way to take away her independence as a character.

Vaggie- I like Vaggies premise, but I hate the way her arc is executed. And the fact that she lets Lute live??? I'm sorry? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! No way. No how. Someone like her from a military background, or hells backdrop would let someone as callous as Lute live.

Alastor - he's my favorite character but, it's not his show. And it feels like it is. I love Alastor, he's the only entertainment I get from this show for the most part.

Angel - he's a characature. He is a walking stereotype. I know many people like him including the hypersexuality. Angel dust unless written for plot specific purposes only, is a very selfish unredeemable person. I'm sorry. He's being raped, and he still sexually harasses other people, knowing how it makes him feel? Now this would be great if we weren't supposed to feel bad for him right away, because it would show how abused can become abusers even if they don't mean too. And that could've been part of his arc to becoming a better person. But no.

The Vs - I like Vox. He's written to be genuinely manipulative, charismatic, and intimidating. I like Velvet too. I wish we knew anything about her. Valentino is written to be a villain, but some of his more childish moments are a bit of a movie mood killer.

On to the show as a whole.

So the most hated part of HH. Episode 4s infamous sexual assault scene. - I actually think it was very raw. It was done in an artistic taste. And I DEFINITELY think that if it wasn't taken from a SA fetishizer, it would've sat with me better. I understand what they were portraying and as someone who's had friends, gay men from the aids crisis era who have been SA, I see it but it's not done well. The only instance it's done well is when Angel is shown in the studio with Valentino especially when he tells Charlie to leave.

The build up and pay off issue - the music for the most part was good. OUT OF CONTEXT. I. Context it pays off without building up the conflict. It just resolves immediately. And these aren't Saturday morning cartoon conflicts. These are deep seeded emotional traumas between people. They don't resolve within one episode. These types of conflicts should resolve in 3 part episodes to 1 season. Yet again the Helluva problem shows up. Setting up too many character arcs and plotlines that cannot be properly resolved in the time span.

The finally- it was. Hot. Garbage. What the fuck was Charlie wearing to fight???? What the fuck???? Seriously???? And Angel???? In his booty shorts??? And we're supposed to take the extermination seriously??? HA! No. I do like in the episodes leading up to the finally, where Charlie and Emily rise against Heaven. I think they should have kept going with that moment in the song "If hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie". It was very powerful and undermined immediately with "the big reveal!" Yuck. And don't even get me started on how NIFTY is the one who killed ADAM! SERIOUSLY? I think it was actually cool to see Alastor get HIS shit kicked in and see him crack under the pressure for once. I DO NOT like how Charlie's daddy had to come and fight her battles especially seeling as how he could do it the whole fucking time for thousands of years????!

#helluva critical #helluva criticism #helluva critique #helluva rewrite #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #anti hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critique #anti spindlehorse #anti helluva boss #anti vivziepop

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artist-issues · 5 months

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THE END of the Hunger Games is flawless.

The ending paragraph of "The Hunger Games" is so perfect. It so totally wraps up the whole point and takeaway of the books, and every character's journey, and nails it.

First off, the paragraph's context is about what you teach your children. Children, who are seen as the most precious treasure any person can handle in the book--treasures that can be turned into weapons and used against the treasurers. Children, who can bring down corrupt authority or keep it in place. So first off, a paragraph that addresses how important teaching children is is the best context for this perfect paragraph.

Second, Katniss is specifically teaching them what? "how I survive," which is her entire being. She makes every decision based on survival. She volunteers for Prim and doesn't kill Peeta in the first Games and chooses not to be with Gale and chooses to play her part against Snow all because she can't survive in a world where the alternative outcomes happen. Plus, survival is what other characters base their decisions on, too. 13 doesn't nuke the Capitol because it might ruin humanity's chances at survival. Hunger is the central plot device used to give Katniss all her skills, because without food, you don't what? Survive. Even "love" in these books is only another tool for survival; it makes suffering worthwhile, and purpose visible, and loss surmountable, and nightmares endurable, for every character. Finnick, Peeta, Katniss, Katniss' mother, even Buttercup the cat. The point of the book's lesson is "how to survive."

Third, the thing that could ruin love and pleasure's usefulness as a tool for survival is fear. But specific fear--"I'm afraid it could be taken away." It's fear that something you love, which makes survival worthwhile, could be taken away, and with it goes survival itself. The whole Hunger Games demonstrate that--"you rebelled against us? Then we're showing you that we can take away your children, the things that make survival worthwhile." And you know what? That's the dividing line between Katniss and Snow. Both Katniss and Coryo have survival as their ultimate goal, and have fear of the things they love being taken from them. For Katniss, it's the good opinion of the people of 12, it's her life with her sister and mom, it's the freedom from owing anyone anything, it's food and the ability to feed herself. For Coryo? It's his family name and reputation, his cousin and grandmother, his legacy, and his ability to never return to the cannibalism of the war. The fear of losing those things that they love is what could drive them to take no pleasure in them. To be afraid forever--and with fear comes the never-enough desire for control. To hang on to those things long after you've forgotten to take pleasure in them. Katniss almost does this with marrying Peeta or running from 12 or even becoming the Mockingjay. She's so afraid of losing what she loves that she jumps through hoops to control hanging onto them: does what Snow says, then does what Gale says, then does what Coin says. Plays a part in each of their games, to try and control the outcome. Coryo actually does do this, and for a while, has enough power to make that control almost universal. All because of fear of the things that he used to take pleasure in being taken from him.

Fourth, the alternative to focusing on the fear and the very-real danger of losing everything--is "focusing on every act of goodness I've seen someone do." This is just faith. Because it's true that the world of Panem (and the world in general) is full of people who are so afraid of losing control over what they love that they kill children and mutate nature to keep up the game, the illusion that they're in control. What you love could be taken from you. The world's full of that. But. The world also has unconditional love in it. People like Peeta, who saw that Katniss would kill him for her own survival in the first Hunger Games, but still chose to sacrifice for her anyway. People like Finnick, who loses everything including his mind, his body, and the things he loves most, but still gives Katniss the only rope he's got that's holding him together, just because he sees she needs it. Focus on that truth, instead of the simultaneous-truth that the it could all be taken away, and you'll have faith, not fear. You'll give up control and just enjoy what goodness you can. And when you do that, nobody can take it from you--not in spirit. Just like nobody could take Peeta's love for Katniss from him.

Finally, "it's like a game." To make a set of rules for yourself, a set of responses to the darkness of the world like making a list of things to focus on exclusively, is a game. It is a type of control--but it's just control of your own thoughts. Carefully using the game so that, in the arena of your brain, the love-shaped tribute is victor over the fear-shaped tribute. So that that battle stays in your head, instead of breaking out into a war that destroys what made your life worth surviving in the first place. Controlling what is your responsibility to control, instead of playing God and trying to control what's not yours. Drawing a line between what's good and what's bad, and staying firmly on one side of it without justification for crossing it.

That's why The Hunger Games is so good. Not because it has interesting dystopian settings, or because Gale and Peeta are hot and the romantic tension of the love triangle lets us self-insert ourselves. (Like other, worse YA fiction.)

No, The Hunger Games is so good because every part of it, from the characters to the setting to the symbolism to the names to the pacing to the development to the mood to the twists in the narrative, is used to uphold that main point. The main point that's so succinctly, cleanly, beautifully made in the last paragraph of the book.

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dellalyra · 1 year

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FAMILY FORMATION - PART SIXTEEN

Summary: Begrudging (but not really) Uncle Nanami, and some of his moments with the family. Request from @psychicai ‘uncle Nanami - uncle to the gojo baby and/ or begrudging uncle to the other 10 adopted gojos’

CW: heartwarming, nice memories, mentions of Geto’s absconding, pregnancy, babies, Satoru gojo and how much he loves his wife

A/N: shout-out to @psychicai for this idea and how much SUPPORT they pour my way ily also this is HAPPY TIMES NO SADNESS EVER HAS HAPPENED EVER NO.

MASTERLIST

FREEZEFRAME ONE

“I’m sorry, I think I’ve misheard you, Gojo brought home what?” The tall blonde leaning on your counter asks.

“Children.” You reply.

“Children?”

“Toji Fushiguro’s children.” You respond, setting a glass of whiskey beside him.

He’s silent for a beat.

“To do what with exactly?” Nanami replies.

“Oh, we’re thinking of a Hansel and Gretel situation.” You smirk in response.

He raises his eyebrow at you.

“We’re hoping to raise them, Kento. They’ve nobody – the boy has the Zen’in technique, Toji sold him to the clan – so Satoru stepped in.” You respond, shrugging.

Silence again. You continue to potter around the kitchen, it’s 5 pm on a Friday and you had been starting dinner when Nanami arrived.

“Well. Fuck. If this was just Gojo I’d ask if you knew what you were doing, and tell you that it’s crazy but, it’s you too. Y/N, I know you’d do anything for him, follow him to the edge of the universe but – you two are only 19 and fuck, now Geto’s gone - you’re the two most powerful sorcerers in the world.” He says, crossing his arms as he sits at the dining table.

You freeze at Geto’s name. The wound was still fresh and gaping in your chest. This was the first time someone had verbalised it so casually, but of course, it would be Nanami.

“I – we, know what we’re doing, don’t worry Kento. Geto is… part of the driving force being the decision. We want to shape the jujutsu world afresh, healthy and stronger and that will be done through the next generation. Satoru’s been asked to teach and school and I’ve already taken the job. We want – we wanna prevent more sweet kids being butchered by this world.” You say, holding your weight against the counter.

“Well – and don’t tell him I said this – if there’s anyone out there capable of doing this, it’s you two.” He says, swirling the whiskey in his glass. He looks different, you notice. Not only is the signature haircut gone but he’s wearing a shirt and tie.

“Thank you, Kento. They’re good kids, really good. Megumi – he will be an incredible sorcerer. His sister Tsumiki has no cursed energy – but she’s a very bright young girl, and so precious. Satoru and I were saying that between him and me and you and Shoko, we have all the tools and balls to reshape jujutsu sorcery from the inside out. Imagine it – you could be Principal Nanami!” You giggle, imagining the bright future you all had together.

“Ah. Well. That’s part of the reason I’m here.” He says, settling down his glass.

“Oh god Kento, what, you gonna go commit some genocide and steal twin girls too?” Dark humour. Fresh sounds are being poked at.

“I’m leaving the sorcery world, Y/N. I’m going to university, then I’m getting a job. I can’t be part of that shit society anymore. The whole thing, I respect none of it.”

Your turn for silence.

“Are you sure?” Your voice cracks as you ask.

“I am.”

“Then, okay. I’m – proud of you Kento. I hope you know though, leaving jujutsu sorcery behind - doesn’t mean you’re leaving us! You can leave the six eyes and the Y/L/N heir, but not Sian and Satoru!” The tears in your eyes are pushed back with quick blinks.

The sounds of three pairs of footsteps echo through your hall – and if that hadn’t been sign enough that Satoru and the two kids were home then the ‘Oh honey! I’m home!” definitely was.

An immediate eye roll from Nanami ensues as you jump from your chair and fling your arms around your boyfriend's neck and pepper kisses on his face.

“Welcome home, ‘tour! Hi kids! How was school?” You say, letting Tsumiki hug your waist and tentatively patting Megumi on the head.

“Hi Y/N! It was fun! We had art today; I made a paper-mâché turtle!” Tsumiki says rummaging through her bag.

“That’s so fun Tsumiki! What about you Megumi?” You kneel at the boy's level.

“Fine, I guess.” He shrugs and then furrows his brow in Satoru’s direction.

“Okay, why are you mad at Satoru now?” You ask, lightheartedly.

“He keeps calling me a short stack. And he’s a dumbass.” The six-year-old replies.

At this, indignation from the white-haired man and a snort and a ‘here here’ from the blonde at the table.

“Satoru, stop calling him short-stack and Megumi, don’t call Satoru a dumbass.” You wipe the dust off your knees as you rise.

“Now kids, this is Nanami Kento. He’s one of our best friends. Megumi, he also thinks Satoru’s a dumbass, so you’ll get along great!” You announce to the room, sitting back down at the table.

Satoru emerges changed into a sweatshirt and sweatpants and you can’t ignore the swell in your heart.

The domesticity of the scene was so warm and cosy you almost felt tired.

“Tsumiki, Megumi. Pleased to meet you both.” He waves a hand towards the two kids who’ve placed themselves at the table too, with snacks and strawberry milk.

Megumi scowls slightly, ever wary of strangers. Tsumiki waves back, ever polite.

“We’re pleased to meet you too, Uncle Nanami!” She speaks.

Satoru immediately begins to cackle laughing at Nanami being called the kids’ uncle, and you elbow him.

Nanami just quirks an eyebrow and thinks it’s fantastic how quickly these two have taken to you both. It’s clear in how Tsumiki is pleased to chatter with Satoru and giggles at his silly antics and how Megumi shares an animal cracker with you and scoots slightly closer to you when feeling particularly exposed.

“So, what grade are you both in?” Kento asks as you rise to retrieve the lasagna from the oven.

FREEZEFRAME TWO

“Okay! I think that’s everything! Tsumiki sleeps in the dark, but she’s 10 and is kinda like a self-cleaning oven. Megumi sleeps with this nightlight, but don’t mention it, just plug it in and leave, his frog stuffy is in his bag too! I’m rambling, aren’t I?” Satoru speaks.

“Yes,” Nanami replies.

“Nanaminnnnnnnn! You’re meant to say ‘No Satoru I know you’re nervous but you’re doing great! You’re so amazing! Uncle Nanamin will take care of these darling cherubs while you hopefully change your life forever” Satoru says as he dramatically shakes Nanami’s shoulders.

Kento is unimpressed.

“Satoru. You’re being fucking ridiculous.”

“Not quite but you’ve got the spirit!”

And with that, Satoru strides into Nanami’s living room.

“Children! Be the absolute best tonight for your dearest Uncle Nanamin, and Tsumiki don’t let Nanamin around Megumi too much – they might form an anti-Satoru club and my poor heart just couldn’t take it, my two favourite men, hanging up against me! My best friends!”

Tsumiki giggles and agrees but her face turns deadly serious.

“Papa. Do you have everything?” She asks.

“Run me a checklist, assistant.” He replies crouching down to her height.

“Snacks?”

“Check.”

“Including all mom’s favourites?”

“Check.”

“The CD mixtape you made?”

“Check.”

“Um… Oh! Do you know what to say? Did you write it down?”

“Check and no, don’t need to.”

“Okay! Then I think that’s everything!”

“No, it’s not.” Comes with a voice hidden behind a Nintendo.

Three heads turn to the spikey-haired boy’s blue eyes visible over the screen.

A gasp from Tsumiki is followed by,

“What did I forget to list?!” She asks, almost frantic.

“The ring,” Megumi replies.

Another gasp from Tsumiki.

Satoru only smirks, he knew Megumi was excited about what was happening – it was obvious in the way he never left the room and even put his book down when Satoru and Tsumiki would go over plans. He liked this idea. That’s how he showed it.

He pulls a small dark blue velvet box from inside his coat pocket and flicks the gold clasp open. In the box, stood the item in question. The most stunningly beautiful, antique ring. Small and dainty in size, the gold filigree art deco setting with the most brilliant marquise cut diamond with two tiny sapphires beside them, it was just so you.

After shouts of good luck (they knew he wouldn’t need it, you were his the day he met you) Satoru says his goodbyes to the kids. Nanami walks him out, stopping him at the door.

He hands him a bottle of champagne.

“For when she says yes.” He says as he nods at him.

Satoru’s eyes sparkled and darted to Nanami.

“You’re sure she will?” He asks. This a rare moment of pure vulnerability from this man who needs his best friend's advice on proposing to his girlfriend. No six eyes. No sorcery. No 7:3 or salaries. Just two men, one hopelessly in love and the other quietly rooting for them for the last 4 years.

“Satoru. Of course, she will, you two have always been inevitable, it’s obvious to everyone. Now – go, get out of my house or you will be late for your engagement.” He says, shoving the taller man’s shoulders.

“Thank you Nanaminnnnnn! If we don’t ring tonight - don’t get worried! We will be otherwise engaged, haha! Get it?”

“Go, Satoru.”

FREEZEFRAME THREE

“So, Megumi – who do you want at your graduation dinner?” You ask – planning a family meal for the following week when Megumi graduated elementary school.

He shrugs.

“Uncle Nanami and Aunt Shoko I guess.” As hyper-verbal and enthusiastic as ever.

So you shoot off two texts telling them, not asking, that they’re coming for dinner on Friday night to celebrate.

At the graduation ceremony, you in a pretty white and blue dress and Satoru in a white button down and slacks wait with the two kids – Megumi scowling at his classmates and Tsumiki speaking to some of the older siblings, you spot Nanami’s car parking and he opens the passenger door for Shoko. The two make their way up the steps with Nanami in tan slacks and a grey shirt and Shoko in a navy pantsuit.

“There they are! Megumi, Tsumiki look it’s Uncle Nanamin and Aunty Koko!” Satoru points at the two arrivals.

He receives a quick thwack on the back of the head from Shoko who abhors the nickname, and she then leans in to kiss him on the cheek.

“Hiya Kento! Thank you two so much for coming today! We’ll go back to ours for dinner after if that’s still good with you guys. The ceremony is only 30 minutes. Between you and me, once Megumi has been up there we’re probably gonna bounce so he doesn’t scare the teachers.”

“Congratulations, Megumi.” Kento nods and pats the boy’s shoulder, then hands him a black box. Megumi raises his eyebrows at you silently asking if he can open it and you nod in encouragement. Inside the box is a black leather wallet, with M.F stamped into it.

“A wallet is a sign of a grown man, now, Megumi. Get a copy of Satoru’s black card and put it in there.” Nanami says, nodding to the boy whose chest has puffed out at being considered a ‘grown man’.

“Here you go, kid.” Shoko opens her wallet and pulls out a ¥5000 note and puts it into his hand. “Don’t spend it on girls or booze.”

“Jesus Shoko he’s 12.” You sigh at her, with a huff of laughter following.

“Hey Megs, you should ask Aunty Koko about how she got through school! Then do everything the exact opposite because she cheated her way into being a Doctor!” Satoru giggles and skips off to grab Tsumiki.

“How do you deal with him, Y/N?” Kento asks.

“Selective hearing.” You respond, but the truth was you dealt with him easily – given that he was one half of your soul.

The doorbell rings and you skip to the door, opening it to see the tall blonde salaryman waiting.

You fling your arms around his neck for a hug.

“Hiya Kento!”

Since Nanami had left sorcery, you and him had set up a standing plan that every second Thursday he would come over to the cottage and you would have Kooking with Kento, as Satoru had named it much to your delight.

On tonight’s menu was a delicious asparagus and lemon risotto, you two would always cook together with Satoru and occasionally the kids taking part from the table. Tsumiki would help you stir sometimes, but Megumi had proven himself as useful as Satoru in the kitchen so they were relegated to the table.

You loved these nights, you and Kento had always been close since you had gone on his first mission with him – your warmth and care as his senior was the foundation for the fact you act like his big sister. He never seemed as bothered by your chaotic energy as he was by Satoru’s – even though you were two sides of the same coin. He acted like he didn’t, but he truly cared for Satoru too, he’d also never admit it, but he was his best friend and 3 years ago when Satoru had very elaborately asked him to be his best man – he was very honoured. Hell, he’d even managed some vaguely complimentary things in his speech. Megumi also found a kindred spirit in Kento, he would speak to him about what he had been reading, and complain about Gojo to him, he was also definitely his favourite babysitter. Now at 13, entering the teen years – Nanami was beginning to be one of the only people who he could stand to be around. The last time he’d been in a fight, Nanami had pulled him aside and told him the correct way to launch his first to prevent bruising on your knuckles – you had heard even though you weren’t mean to. You hadn’t said anything, but you did think to yourself that it’s no wonder Nanami and Satoru were friends.

At the table that night, with food put away and the kids gone to bed, Nanami says he wishes to speak to you both.

“I’ve made the decision, that the 9 to 5 life is shit. Jujutsu sorcery is also shit, so in this case I’m choosing the one I am most adept at and so I will be returning to sorcery. I –” He was immediately cut off by your squeals and Satoru’s cheering and rendition of Return of the Mack but changing it to Nanamin. He just sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose at the fact his closest friends were you two and a woman chain smoking over cadavers and wondered what the hell he did wrong in a past life.

“Oh we’ll get to see you so much more! There’s an empty office beside Satoru’s, I’m in another building but still close by! We can all have lunch together!” You clap your hands and look to Satoru who is equally as delighted.

“I won’t be teaching. I’m returning to active missions.”

More cheering ensues.

It goes on for a while.

Kento is tired.

FREEZEFRAME FOUR

You lay on the hospital bed, Satoru almost on top of you, head tucked into your neck as you snuggled into him – tears on both your faces.

Shoko had left the room to give you both some space, standing in the hall she hears footsteps approaching – neat and fast.

Kento Nanami appears at the end of the hallway and as he approaches her a loud laugh and a giggle escape from the room behind her.

“Is that Y/N and Gojo? Why are they here, they have no active missions as far as I’m aware and it’s summer holidays?” He asks her, as her lips curl into a smile around her lit cigarette, she holds out her hand as he passes her the papers – he was here for her sign off on his monthly physical.

“Knock and ask ‘em yourself, Ken.” She shrugs her head toward the room.

He nods and tales the paperwork back.

He knocks on the door as your voice rings out telling him to come in.

“Nanaminnnnnnn!!! You’re here too! How awesome is this!” Satoru says, still not moving from his spot glued to you.

Your eyes are sparkling with glistening tears but your smile was lit up with the widest smile directed at your husband – eyes filled with pure love.

“Is everything alright? Is someone unwell?” He asks.

You giggle and swing your legs off the side of the table so Satoru can sit beside you and he wraps his arms around you middle and nuzzles into your shoulder.

“That would be me, but only every morning.” You hint.

Kento then notices the way you seem to glow and the placement of Satoru’s hand, protectively splayed across your lower belly.

Then it clicks.

“Shit – are you pregnant, Y/N?” He asks, aghast at the situation he didn’t expect to walk into today.

You nod and smile and Satoru raises his head.

“I’m gonna be a papa again! More babies for you uncle Nanamin!”

Kento can’t even bring himself to chastise him right now, the aura of joy surrounding you both is too beautiful to burst.

“Have you just found out?” He asks, a small smile on his lips.

“Satoru notices their cursed energy today, so we warped straight here. Who needs a pregnancy test when your husband is one, huh?!” You high five the man beside you.

“Of course I’d be the first to see it, I put it in there!” This makes you throw your head back and Nanami shake his.

“Christ. A combination of you both. I’ll be grey by the time the child turns one.” He smirks.

In truth, he couldn’t have been happier for you both. You’d both done a great job with Megumi and Tsumiki, your attachment obvious at your constant quest to wake Tsumiki up since we sank into her slumber a year ago. More than anything though, he could not think of two people more deserving of welcoming a new little light into the world. The love you both share and the depth of the bond often renders Kento speechless. Seeing you both, was enough proof for the eternal skeptic to wholeheartedly believe that soulmates exist and you two were made to be together by whatever hand guides the earth. He will continue to joke about the combination of you both leading him to insanity given your chaotic nature and well, Satoru but he knew while all of that was true and the child would be as boisterous and wild as they come – the child would also be the most caring, bravest, most passionate, fearless and a true force to be reckoned with. Your love could create all that, and he was privileged to bear witness – and to later, be named godfather of Akio Ryu Tadashi Gojo.

FREEZEFRAME FIVE

A Thursday came about, and Kento walked up to the sage green door of the Gojo cottage. He heard voices inside and figured Satoru must have gotten home early – you were still on maternity leave and Satoru was coming home very early each day to see his wife and baby boy. Megumi was in school now, so he lived on campus.

He knocked and not 10 seconds later the door opened revealing you with the baby on your hip.

“Kento! Yay you’re here, and you brought wine. You are my lifesaver. I’ve had to get extra, because we’ve extra mouth to feed tonight.” You say, kissing his cheek and wandering back to the kitchen.

He follows you and your large wooden kitchen table is overflowing with people – the source of the voices.

Megumi, Nobara and Yuuji sit with Satoru at the table.

“Hello Nanaminnnnn!” came in perfect synch from Gojo and Yuuji. That was followed by a ‘Hello Nanami-San!” from Nobara and a wave from Megumi and a babble from Akio. He greets them all in return as Akio makes grabby hands towards his father and Satoru lifts him delighted from your arms, before settling him on his lap to play with the small panda plushy in his hands. The kids all coo at Akio and Kento then notices the dog, large and black and fluffy asleep by Megumi’s feet.

“The kids are all exhausted and a bit shaken from the exchange event last week, so ‘toru gave them the day off tomorrow so they can stay here for the weekend.” You say quietly. He’s reminded that under layers of bravado Satoru truly loves these kids – not just as his adopted son and students, but truly all three of them as part of he and his wife’s formed family.

“I did bolognaise for dinner tonight, and we’ve chocolate cake. But first things first, here’s a corkscrew Kento – crack that thing open. The grown ups want a glass of wine.”

He does as requested and marvels at the scene in front of him, you kiss the head of his godson and the lips of his best friend as you pass them whispering how handsome your boys are to them both, then mention to Nobara you bought some new nail varnish to try later as you pass her, then ruffle both the teens boys hair as you move past them and weigh in on their debate over the best Pokémon in the new game.

He might complain, but he’s happy to be Uncle Nanamin to this wonderful puzzle piece family.

#gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #anime #dad!gojo #pixie writes: family formations #nanami kento #nanami x reader #platonic nanami Kento

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hypewinter · 1 year

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Can I offer you another Danny POV in these trying times?

It had started after his encounter with the costumed people. After that his dad had taken him to the store and bought a lot of strange items. From there, he put the strange items together and put them up all around the house. Ever since then, Danny couldn't go through the walls.

Danny pushed against the wall now but he couldn't go through just like all his other past attempts. But if he couldn't go through, how would he play tag with his dad!? Fat tears bubbled up in his eyes as he tried to desperately push through the wall. He liked playing with his dad! It was the best part of the day.

Tears began to fall freely down his cheeks and he let out a whimper as he tried phasing through the floor this time to no avail. Suddenly big hands scooped him up.

Jack tried to soothe his son but Danny was not listening to his assurances that "this was to protect him" and "it was for the best". He was too busy crying while glaring at the strange items covering it. If only they weren't there.

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Danny woke up to voices outside his room. One was his dad's but the other was female. He tensed up in fear, remembering the last female voice he encountered, but this one was different. It was younger and for some reason, hearing it filled him with warmth.

"Now's not the time for that Dad." The female voice said.

"No, I won't have my princess sacrificing her education." Replied his dad.

Danny wondered what they were talking about. He was also curious about who the owner of this new voice was. She had called his dad , her dad. Did that mean they were related. That would make them siblings right? He had a sister?

Suddenly a thought came from deep within his mind. Of course I have a sister, her name is Jazz. But his moment of clarity was gone just as soon as it had overtaken him. Danny was left wondering who is Jazz? as he drifted back to sleep.

--------

Jazz as it turned out was his red-headed sister. And although she always wore a smile around him, it was always tinted with sadness. Danny couldn't help but wonder why.

Everything was going great so there was no reason to be sad. Jazz had now moved in, all the neighbors were constantly cooing at him and giving him treats, and Jack had gotten a job with some red person. Wait, did he get hired by Little Red Riding Hood? Maybe she needed a new hunter to help her fight the wolf.

At that thought, Danny couldn't help but look at his father in awe. Every evening when he left, Danny silently hoped he'd catch a lot of bad wolves.

--------

It took a couple of weeks for Danny to find out that while his dad worked for a Red Hood, it was very disappointingly not Red Riding Hood. Instead it was some guy with a white streak in his hair with some very disgusting ectoplasm circulating his body.

Danny made a face and turned into his sister's hold as he came face to face with the guy at the doorway.

"I'm sorry about that." she said to the guy, "He's not usually like this."

"It's ok, babies usually cry in front of me so this is an improvement." he replied.

"Come on Matt, Jason's really nice if you give him a chance!" His father proclaimed. His trademark loudness making the doorframe shudder.

That was the other thing Danny didn't like about this red guy. He had already seen him twice before, when his Dad had taken him in to grab a few forgotten tools.

The first time the guy wore a red helmet. Everyone acted like he was dangerous and shouldn't be messed with. Even his dad was very respectful in his interactions with him.

The second time Danny had seen not Red Riding Hood, he didn't have his helmet on nor did he go by his previous name. Everyone at the garage treated him as if he was one of their own instead of the dominating presence he had been before. In fact, they acted as if "Jason" was a completely different person all together. It was quite strange to say the least. Though Danny wasn't sure he had a leg to stand on considering every time they were in public, his dad would call him "Matt".

Danny had fussed about it a few times but that didn't seem to have any effect. He had finally decided it was fine since he was at least still called "Danny" and "Danno" when they were home. Now though, thanks to this Jason guy, he was even being called that stupid name within his own house! Danny was quickly deciding he didn't like this weird bad ectoplasm guy at all.

@idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @overtherose @seraphinedemort

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #no tag ramble today folks!#currently in the process of getting everything ready to put on ao3 #so hopefully that's coming soon!#we'll see if my schedule likes me enough to cooperate

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dragon-kazansky · 3 months

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Symphony of dreams

Morpheus x Female Reader

Now awake, it is time to rebuild The Dreaming. The Corianthian is still loose in The Waking World, and Morpheus is trying to make up for lost time. Your husband has a lot to learn.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: Death. Episode heavy toward the end of the chapter, but I love this episode, so I hope you don't mind.

Chapter Five - A day with Death

☆☆☆

"What do you mean you spoke to Death?" Dream asks, looking at you. You were sitting on his throne going through some more books with Lucienne when you brought it up.

"Exactly that. I spoke to your sister."

"Why?" He asks, his brow furrowing slightly. He sometimes looked rather cute when he was confused.

"A lot of things have changed in the last hundred years. I think it will do you some good to spend time with your sibling."

He still looked confused.

"Do it for me, Morpheus? Is she not your favourite of the family? Please go meet her."

He sees the expression in your eyes and knows he can't say no.

"Come with me?"

You sigh softly. "That wasn't my idea."

"Please?"

You look at him. You see the desperation that flickers through those blue eyes. He is eager to have you by his side.

"I will go with you to meet her, but I think you should have some one-on-one time with her. You could learn a lot."

Morpheus seems to relax slightly. You can see the way the tension leaves his shoulders. You know it's only because he is reluctant to be away from you for long, but you're more than sure he will not be taken from you again.

"What will you do?" He asks.

"There is an errand I must run. Something your sister has asked of me."

"What sort of errand?" His brows knit together again. You chuckle softly.

"Just a little favour."

"Fine. You'll come with me to meet her?"

You nod. Morpheus seems happy enough with that. You close the book that had been resting in your lap and rise from the throne. Lucienne takes the books back, and you take your husband's hand.

Morpheus and yourself head to the Waking World.

☆☆☆

The sight of Morpheus sitting on a park bench with half a baguette in his hand was a funny picture. He looked like he would rather be anywhere else right now. You said nothing to him, watching him feed the birds.

Death slowly walked over and sat down beside him. You smiled at her. She smiled back. Her eyes then turned to her brother.

"What you doing?" She asks him.

"I'm feeding the pigeons."

"You do that too much, you know what you get? Fat pigeons."

You smile softly.

"That's from Mary Poppins. Did you ever see it?"

"No."

You look at Dream and then at Death. "What is that?" You ask her.

"A film. You'd like it." She smiles at you. You make a mental note of it.

A child runs past and spooks the pigeons. Death smiles at the boy. You chuckle softly.

"Okay, so what's the matter?" Death asks, turning back to her brother

"What do you mean?" He asks, not looking at her.

"My dear sister in law told me you needed help."

Morpheus looks up at you and then back at he ground. You sigh softly.

"I can tell something is wrong. Look at you, sitting here moping, pigeaon feeding. It's not like you."

"No. Perhaps it isn't," he admits.

You lean in and rest your head on his shoulder. Morpheus does not move, but you know he approaches the gesture. He knows you like it when he's honest with himself.

"I don't know what's wrong, but... you're right. Something is the matter."

You lift your head and look at him. He's talking. That's good. It's not that he doesn't talk to you, but if he can talk to anyone, it would be his sister

"When they captured me, I just had one thought." He says your name. "I wanted vengeance so I could get back home to you."

You look at him softly.

"Meanwhile, my kingdom was falling apart, and you were victim to an eternal slumber." He speaks softly. His eyes focus on a single spot in front of him. You can still see the pain in him. "My tools long since stolen and scattered. So, I embarked on a journey to find them, so I may wake my wife and save our home. Which I did. I am now more powerful than I have been in aeons. And yet..."

"Here you are feeding the pigeons." Death understands.

You gaze at your husband with curiosity.

"See, until then, I had a true quest. A purpose beyond my function, and suddenly, it was over, and I felt disappointed. Let down. Empty. Does that make sense?" He asks his sister, looking at her. "I was so sure that once I git everything back, I'd feel good, but in some ways I feel worse than when I started."

You sit there, listening, trying to keep your emotions in check. Morpheus feels a shift in you and turns. Your eyes look wet, like you're holding back tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. You turn to him. "I am upsetting you."

You shake your head. You thought him talking to his sister would help, but you didn't realise juat how badly he felt.

"You feel you are without purpose?" You ask.

"I do."

You take a deep breath. "You are disappointed?"

"Not in you," he says. He looks at you with such awe and determination. "Never with you."

"In yourself?"

He says nothing.

Death has listened. She watches you both. With one hand, she reaches out and places it on his knee. Dream looks down at it and then at her.

"You could have called me, you know? I'm glad someone did," she looks at you. You offer her a smile and wipe your eyes before any tears could fall.

"I didn't want to worry you."

"And your wife?" She asks.

Morpheus now feels even worse as he looks at you again. "I didn't want to worry you either."

"Morpheus, I will always worry about you," you tell him.

He knows.

"I don't believe it. Let me tell you something, Dream," Death says, standing up. "And I'm only going to say this once, so you better pay attention. You are utterly the stupidest, most self-centered excuse for an anthropomorphic personification on this or any other plane."

You have to bite back your smile.

"Feeling sorry for yourself because your little game is over, and you haven't got the balls to go out and find a new one. You're as bad as Isiah. No, worse."

She chucks his bread back at him. Dream catches it and stares at her. You try not to giggle.

"Did it never occur to you that we would be worried about you?" She asks him.

"I didn't think-"

"Exactly. You didn't think." Death turns to you. "My brother is an idiot."

You chuckle. "Yes, but he's our idiot, and if anyone can get him to see reason or purpose, it is you."

Death smiles at you. "She's a keeper, Dream."

Morpheus doesn't say anything, but he does find himself reaching for your hand. You smile and curl your fingers around him. He needs comfort.

A ball comes flying over, and Death catches it. The young man comes over and looks at her. "Wow, you're as good as your friend."

Earlier, Dream had caught the ball when it came flying at him.

"He's not my friend. He's my brother, and he's an idiot."

You chuckle softly. Morpheus sighs quietly. "I'm just feeding the birds," he says.

"Look, I can't stay here all day, I got work to do. You can come with me if you want," Death offers. This is what you wanted. "Or you can stay here and sulk."

"I'll come with you, I suppose."

"Well, don't do me any favours," she teases. Death smiles at him.

Morpheus stands up but realises you're still sitting. He turns and looks at you, his hand still in yours. "Are you not coming?" He asks.

You look up at him. "Thought you might prefer some one on one time with your sister."

He looks at you with slight confusion. "I would like you come."

You look atchim and then at Death. She smiles at you. You know she won't mind yo tagging along. "What about that favour I promised you?"

"He can wait. He's waited all this time. He can wait a little longer," she says.

"Are you sure?"

"Who?" Morpheus asks.

Neither you nor Death answer him as you stand up. He keeps his hand in yours, looking at you, silently asking what you were talking about. You do not answer him.

Death tells the young man that she would see him soon.

The three of you leave the park.

☆☆☆

The pair of you keep Death company as she goes about her job. You walk beside Morpheus for a while but decide to trail behind the two. You wanted him to spend time with his sister.

Following Death around was not going to be the easiest thing for you, but you would stick it out for Dream's sake.

Death saw her role as a gift, and you supposed it was. She couldn't be there for everyone, but for those she could, it meant more than you knew. To spend your last moment with a friendly face, a guiding hand, a comforting word.

Her job was hard, but she loved it.

The old man in the apartment sho had been playing music. He was alone until Death came. She allowed him to say his prayer before taking his hand.

The sound of her wings brought you comfort.

The young man on his honeymoon. He was worried for his wife. It was sad to see when his body was brought up onto the bank. Death guided him away. You had held Dream's hand. He looked at you quietly.

The baby. It had barely lived. Its life had only juat begun, but Death was doing her job. When it was time to go, it was time to go. No matter how young or old. When Death had taken the baby into the other room, you had hid in his chest. He wrapped his arm around you and held you to him.

The sound of her wings was all you could hear.

☆☆☆

Death linked her arm with you as you walked together. Morpheus was trailing behind you both.

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Don't be." You tell her. "Some people see death as cruel and uncaring, but that couldn't be further than the truth. You do care. You're there to guide them when they go. Life can be cruel, but unfortunate and terrible things happen every day. We can not change them."

She smiles at you. "You're so wise."

You chuckle. "I try to look at things from every angle. The world is not so black and white."

"No. It is not." She smiles. "Now, about my brother."

You look at her. "Yes?"

"How are things?"

You chuckle softly again. "We are well, all things considering. I think he's just a little lost. All those things he said before, I had no idea about."

Death looks at you with a gentle gaze. "He does not open his heart to you?"

"I think, perhaps, he has forgotten how. Perhaps it's just been too long. I remember how he was when you first introduced him to me. Perhaps he just always was that way."

She shakes her head. "No. He knows he can tell you anything. I think he's forgotten what it was like. He was gone for over a century. That's a long time without company. A long time without you."

"I want to find him a new purpose."

Death smiles. "You're a good woman."

"The best," you chuckle.

She gives your arm a squeeze and laughs with you. "I hope you know he loves you. More than anyone he's ever loved before."

"That's quite a statement."

"It's true. It's not easy loving an Endless. You know that. Yet, here you. All these centuries later, and you're still married to him. If that's not love, I don't know what is."

You chuckle. "I do love him. I adore him. I love you too."

Death smiles and throws her arm around you. You chuckle and give her a hug.

"What a family this is."

You both continue to laugh and talk. Morpheus watches you both, wondering what it was you were both talking about. Seeing you smile and laugh made him happy. You look so happy.

He knows he has to do better for you.

You and Death come to a stop and look at each other. Morpheus joins you both.

"Would you mind if I had some tike with my brother?" Death asks, holding your hands.

"Not at all. He's all yours."

Morpheus looks at you. A sadness crosses his face, but it's subtle. You chuckle softly and reach out to caress his cheek.

"Don't worry, I'll see you later."

"Where are going?" He asks.

"To do that favour."

Dream so desperately wants to know what this favour is. What has his sister asked of you? You do not tell him as you kiss his cheek and bid Death goodbye.

Morpheus watches you leave with a sad look. Death rolls her eyes and loops her arm with him.

"You're so whipped."

Morpheus just glares at her lightly and lets her guide him away. All the while, he misses your presence beside him.

☆☆☆

"Where did you send her?" Morpheus asks as they walk.

"To see an old friend. You'll see her later."

They walk in silence for a while, but then Morpheus speaks. "When I was captured, it wasn't me they were looking for. It was you."

Death looks at him. "Yeah. I know."

They continue walking. Morpheus has thoughts running through his head. He thinks about everything he has seen today. His sister's job seems so much more difficult than his own.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?" She asks.

"This. Be there for all of them."

"I have a job to do, and I do it. When the first living thing existed, I was there. When the last living thing dies, I'll put the chairs on the tables, then out the lights, and lock the universe behind me when I leave. And I'm not there for all of them. There are exceptions. Mad Hettie, and there's your ongoing project."

Morpheus realises something. He knows where you went.

"How's he bearing up after all this time?"

"You mean Hob Gadling?"

Death nods.

"I don't know. I was forced to miss our last appointment." He sighs softly. "Is that the favour?"

Death smiles. "Figured I'd sent him a good sign while I borrowed you for a while."

"Have you and my wife been planning this all along?" Dream asks.

"Yeah," she grins.

Morpheus chuckles softly.

"I'll sure he'd love to see you. You should go catch up with them. He's never too keen to see me though."

Hob defied Death. Refused her. Dream ready knew that much. He had been there from the beginning.

"Does it not bother you?" Dream asks his sister.

"I used to think I had the hardest job in all our family."

"Oh did you?"

"They fear the Sunless Lands. Yet they enter your realm every night without fear."

"And yet, I am far more terrible than you."

Death chuckles softly.

"It was fine in the beginning. Dying and living were new things, and people did them with the enthusiasm they always bring to new things. And then, after a bit, it just got harder."

"But you continued."

"I thought about giving up. Walking out," Death confides in him.

Dream looks at her. He never expected her to say that.

"This was a long time ago. Long before this world. It really started to get to me. I got kind of hard and brittle inside. I mean, people feel as pleased to be born as if they did it themselves. But they get upset and hurt and shaken when they die. Eventually, I learned that all they really need is a kind word and a friendly face, like they had in the beginning."

Morpheus was starting to understand. Now he knew why you wanted him to see his sister. You were looking out for him. Looking after him.

Morpheus is learning a lot about humanity. How they receive his sister's gift. Their attitude toward death. He wondered why they feared the Sunless Lands. Death is natural. Yet, as much as they fear it, they accept it.

She is their friend at the end of the line.

He understands.

☆☆☆

The siblings walk back toward the park together.

"It's funny looking back now, I used to think I had to do this all by myself."

"But you do," Dream says.

"No. At the end, I'm there with them. I'm holding their hand, and they're holding mine. I'm not alone when I'm doing my job. Neither are you."

Morpheus looks at her.

"Think about it. The only reason we even exist. You and I, and Desire, and Despair. The whole family. We're here to serve them."

Dream looks around.

"It isn't about quests or finding purpose outside our function. Our purpose is our function. We're here for them. Since I figured that out, I realised. I need them as much as they need me."

They continue walking.

"I've seen so many cool things, and people and worlds. I've learnt so much. Lord of people don't have a job they love doing, so they? So, I think I'm very lucky."

Death looks at her brother. "Listen, I've got to head back soon."

Dream takes her hand in his and faces her. "You've taught me something I have forgotten. I thank you, my sister."

"That's what family's about, brother."

The same young man who was here earlier runs past again, trying to catch the ball. There is the sound of a car screeching.

Dream knows what had happened.

"You should go meet up with your lovely wife, Dream. She is waiting."

Dream smiles softly at his sister. "Yes. She is. Thank you."

Death smiles back and let's go of his hand.

Dream leaves while Death helps that young man. Today has truly been a learning experience for Morpheus.

Now he wanted to see you again, you and his old friend.

☆☆☆

@missdreamofendless - @mischievousvillainy - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy - @emarich7 - @lollipopsandlandmines - @mouth-whore -

#symphony of dreams #morpheus x reader #the sandman #female reader #dragon writes

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caffeinewitchcraft · 2 years

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The Devil You Know

Summary: You are caught by a devil in the woods. She wants to talk about deals and you have always been a good listener. (F/F, 2nd person, original story)

-----------------------------.

“Do you want to hear about my deal?”

The woman across the fire hasn’t looked like a regular traveler for a few hours at least. You thought she was at first, but that was back when the sun sat high in the sky and her hat cast a shadow so deep across her eyes it hid the spark of magic in them. She smiles at you, her teeth a shade too sharp, and waits for you to answer.

The clearing rings with silence following her question. Even the crackling fire falls quiet for a moment. The dark from the woods around you presses against your shoulders like a wall. If you run, she’ll catch you sooner or later. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not even before you reach town. But someday, somehow, she’ll catch you.

“Sure,” you say. You lean back into the tree you’d picked to spend the night under. You have the ridiculous impulse to pull your blanket up and over your head like a child hiding from the dark. You return her smile with a lazy one of your own. Too late for hiding. Too late to reach for the tools in your bag that’re supposed to protect you from things like this. “Tell me about your deal.”

“I was a little girl,” she says. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, spirals of dark curls that seem to move under the flickering firelight. She picks up one of those curls and twirls it around her finger. “My town was starving. Not just my family. Not just me. My whole town. A village of the dying doesn’t wail, you know? Wailing happens when there’s someone around to save you. But when you’re all dying, nobody makes a sound.”

Evil things aren’t meant to be spoken this time of night. You look up at the sky anxiously, but the canopy of the pine you’re under blocks too much of your view. When you look back to her, she’s watching the long line of your throat. You swallow. “You lived.”

“I did,” she says. She drags her attention from the hollow of your throat to the harsh line of your jaw, to your eyes. Hers glow like embers when she captures your gaze. “A nice woman like yourself picked me up. Deigned to decide amongst all those damned and dying and doled her deal to dear, darling me.”

There’s a lot to object to, but you hold your tongue. There’s magic in her words, each one falling like the beat of a drum, inviting you to fall into her rhythm. You could…if you were the sort to be swayed by magic. Instead, you say, “You made the deal?”

“I did,” she says. “Devils are supposed to lay the terms, but this one didn’t. She told me I could pick whatever I wanted for one price. She saw me dying and she saw the ruins that had become of my home and she did not tell me she would save me or them. She asked me to choose one thing.” She examines the ends of her hair and then drops the strands with a sigh. “It is a very cruel thing to make a child decide in that sort of situation, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes. A child should be saved, not made to bargain.”

“I agree,” she says. She watches you like you’ve said something interesting. “How would you have saved me?”

That flusters you. Your fingers tangle in your blanket. “I suppose like today. I would have offered you my water and a portion of my rations. I would have lent you my horse to ride if you were injured and taken you to the next town.”

“Even as my family begged for you to save them too?” She leans forward, so close that you know the heat from the fire must be hitting her face. It sends shadows reaching up from under her chin to cross her cheeks and her eyes reflect the flames like mirrors. “Today, it was only me on the road. Then, my family laid behind me in a cluster, preserving the last of the heat with their own bodies. No food for days, no water for most of that too. I had a younger sister, you know, and an older brother.”

You’ve spent too many days on the road to not know what she’s talking about. The famine is an unpredictable beast, bellowing through some towns and slinking through others. You can imagine the smell of the dust and the filth that accumulates in barren areas, can hear the helpless gasps of the dying like dry branches scraping together, can see the vultures circling on high. The road is littered with families like she’s describing, all clutching each other in their last moments. Why, you’ve seen—

Wait.

You frown. “They laid behind you?”

“All in a pile,” she croons, grinning. This close you can see her teeth are too sharp. Her canines come to points just shy of her bottom lip. “Shivering against the encroaching winter and bemoaning the cruel negligence of the land’s lord.”

The land’s lord is always negligent. You wave that away and say, “But why weren’t you in the pile with them? An older brother and a younger sister…Why did you lay between them and the road the devil approached you on?”

The woman pulls back from the flames, retreating into the shadows. She’s back to watching you again, her smile no longer reaching her eyes. “Who knows? It was a long time ago. Perhaps they no longer thought of me as their bodies wasted away. I certainly didn’t think of them when I made my deal.”

Her words are like smoke, so smooth that they feel like a caress. Her eyes burn in the dark. Ask me, they say, ask me about my deal. You have met many evils on this road and she may yet be one of them. But… You have always been too curious and you can feel your caution dissolving in the face of it like smoke into air.

“I would have saved you,” you say. You nod when the words ring true in your chest. “I would have left your family behind. I would have saved you.”

She stills and the world goes still with her. The gentle breeze brushing through the pine quiets and an owl falls silent mid cry. She studies you, brow furrowing when she doesn’t find what she’s looking for. “You would.”

“I would,” you say. “The funny thing about saving people – it’s selfish. There’s a choice in it. Today I could have continued on my way to town. I could have had a full dinner rather than split it with you. But I saved you because I was lonely and wanted the company.” And, you add silently, sometimes I get tired of looking for answers. Saving her had been an answer, in a way.

“What would you have gotten out of it if you’d saved me and not my family?”

“Satisfaction,” you say. And maybe the shadows are just as deep on your side of the campfire as they are on hers because she shudders when you smile. “Die alone or die together. There are only two options in this world. Who am I to stop them from choosing the more comforting of the two? Who are they to stop me from saving a child from the lonelier?”

“Huh,” the woman says. All at once the movement of the world rushes back. The breeze licks at your cheeks, stealing the suffocating warmth that had stolen over them. A bird takes flight from deep within the woods. “If only you had found me on the road then rather than now. We both might have had better fortune.”

The fire pops between you. The woman seems so much less frightening somehow. You can see the shape of her. She met a devil once, a long time ago, and she went down a crossroads. Now, like the researcher you are, you push for more.

“I guess that depends on the outcome of our meeting,” you say. There’s something bright in your chest now, replacing the sick fear that had bloomed as you realized she wasn’t human. She isn’t – the teeth are proof of that – but there is something human about her. You nod to her. “Tell me about your deal.”

“I was a child,” she says. She sounds hypnotized, her voice dreamy and her eyes distant. “I was starving. My family did not want to share the last of our stores with me. I was dying and a woman came up the road. She offered me a deal. Anything I wanted in exchange for my soul…” Her words drift off.

You lean forward, so close that you can feel the flames of the fire against your face. “What did you want?” you breathe.

Her gaze refocuses on you. She inhales sharply at your appearance, but says, “What could a dying girl want? What dreams could she have? Let me ask her and the make the deal quickly.” She drops the affected voice. “That’s what the devil must have been thinking when she offered me such an open-ended deal. She must have laughed while she asked me, so sure I would waste the opportunity.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” she says. She comes up onto her knees and shuffles forward, eyes never leaving yours as she approaches the edge of the fire. “I was a hungry thing, I was. I wanted food and water and to live. Those things the devil knew. But I also wanted revenge for being thrown away by the dying things who laid just behind me.”

“Good,” you say. You mean it. You feel elated at the idea, the memory of her knowing too much in the face of a creature trying to take advantage. You croon the word. “Good.”

She flushes. From the heat? From your words? She holds herself still in front of the flames and the wind rushes through the canopy above. “I knew she was a devil and I knew what she would do with my soul. I knew any deal I made needed to be worth it. So I thought quickly in the moments I had. I never wanted to be hungry and I never wanted to be helpless. I never wanted to be dependent again on luck or family or devils.”

You need to see her better. You find yourself on your knees too and, like this, you meet her eye-to-eye across the flames. “You made a deal.”

“I did.” She grins. “I said, you can have my soul. I said, I only want one thing. I said, I want—” here she draws out the word “—to be you.”

A log crumbles into cinder and sparks fly into the air between you. You feel the shadows pressing in from all around, but you can barely feel their chill. She is like you – a traveler on the road. But the road brought darkness to her doorstep, and she did not let it consume her. No, she sat astride it. She controlled it. She tamed it.

“I have been looking for someone like you,” you say. A confession for a confession. You have traveled this road for years looking for answers. And here she is. Your answer. “I have been looking for you.”

The woman isn’t listening. She smiles up at the sky, hands held palm out beside her. “The magic took hold before she knew what I had done. My soul for changing me into a thing that didn’t need one. My soul for power. My soul for freedom.”

“Yes,” you say. She is beautiful. She is transformed. You leap to your feet. “That’s it! That’s it exactly!” You rush around the fire. She jerks up to her feet, eyes widening, but you aren’t attacking her. You fall to your knees beside her and grab her hands. “You—you are perfection. Wonderful, truly!”

She looks down at you with her flaming eyes, mouth slightly agape. “I—what?”

“Thank you,” you say. You mean it. You are so sincere that you kiss the back of her hands. “I have searched for over a decade for my answer.”

She does not pull away, though her expression is unsure. “An answer to what question?”

“What do we mortals do when the world kills us? Why, we die, of course. But what do we do when the world is cruel? When it bites and claws and murders? When dark things crawl from our nightmares to devour us whole?” You look up at her rapturously. “Why, we become you.”

“I’m…not sure what I’m supposed to say here,” she says. She finally does pull her hands from yours, stepping back. There’s a deep wrinkle between her eyebrows. “This whole day is turning upside down. You know I’m a devil, right?”

“But you were human once,” you say. You sit back on your heels, beaming up at her. “You are the first person I’ve ever met who has bridged the gap between human and supernatural. I am a researcher, you know, and I have the authority to say that. You are unique.”

She flushes, the red across her cheeks darker than the red in her eyes. “I am trying to steal your soul,” she says.

Is she pouting? You nod and fold your hands in your lap, so you don’t reach for hers again. “Yes, I know.”

“If you know then you should run—”

“I want you to have it.”

She gapes at you. Closes her mouth. Presses the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Look. Traveler or researcher, whatever you are. I appreciate your sympathy in regard to my deal so I’ll let you go.”

What? No! “No!” you say. You scramble up from the ground and step towards her. You are a tall woman and she is not. You stop short of her to keep from looming. “Please, please, take my soul!”

“I don’t have a deal for people who want their souls to be stolen,” she snaps. She takes a half-step back and then firms. She glares up at you. “Anyone else would be ecstatic at the mercy I’m showing. Not many people escape a devil once they’ve shared a campsite—”

“I don’t want to escape!” You wring your hands together. “I don’t want us to part! I want to hear more about your transformation and your life after your deal. Do you collect souls to survive? Is it an instinct? Is it for fun? There are so many things I need to ask you!”

“You can ask any devil you find—” Her jaw drops again. “Wait, is that why you saved me? You just save people along this road, hoping they’re devils?”

Usually, yes. But tonight you really did just want some company. It can get awfully lonely traveling alone, especially when the merchants you used to travel with refuse to put up with you any longer. Something about losing too many of their people to the supernatural dangers you seek out.

“Saving people is selfish,” you remind her. “I never said I do it altruistically.”

She actually does take a step back this time. “What do you do with the devils you find?”

“Not all of them are devils—”

“What. Do you. Do. To them?”

You glance guiltily at your bag and then back to her. “If they answer my questions, I let them go. Honestly.”

“I don’t know if I believe you,” she says, but she stops backing up. She purses her lips. “If I answer your questions, will you let me go then?”

You hedge. “I don’t know if I can ask them all in one night,” you say. “If you let me stay with you for as long as I have questions, you can have my soul after.”

“You seem like a troublesome soul to collect,” she says. Her eyes narrow. “You didn’t tell me what you do to devils who don’t answer your questions.”

You widen your eyes and bat your lashes, hoping it looks as innocent as it did when you were a little girl. “They all answer my questions.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Liar.” She looks uneasily in the direction of your bag. “You’re a very troublesome soul indeed.”

“You can smell lies?” you ask, delighted. You want to get your notebook, but you’re worried she’s going to run if you take your eyes off her. “Or is it more of a sixth sense? Can you tell partial truths? What about—”

“How about this?” she blurts out, holding out one hand to stop your onslaught of questions. She looks somewhat harried which is ridiculous. You only just met. She runs a hand through her hair. “I’ll answer your questions.”

“I’ve got a lot of them though so it’d be easier if you took—”

“You can travel with me for as long as it takes,” she says. “In exchange, you won’t do to me whatever you did to those other devils. And you’ll stop bothering me about taking your soul.”

“But it would really be much easier if you did,” you say in your most reasonable voice. You wave your hands to your bag. “I’ve got years worth of questions. If you take my soul, it’s guaranteed that I’ll have enough time to ask them.”

“You can’t possibly have so many questions that you need an extended life to ask them,” she says, rolling her eyes. When you don’t respond, her eyes widen. “You don’t, do you?”

“Well, I don’t know,” you say. “I’ve never been able to ask them all before the devil tries to run.”

“Tries to run?” she asks.

You go back to smiling at her.

“The deal—the promise,” she corrects herself hastily, “is this: I’ll answer as many questions as you want for one year. During that time, I won’t run and you won’t… do whatever it is you do to devils that try. In exchange, you won’t ask me to take your soul. Good?”

Not good. You consider her, eyes sliding to the trees just beyond her shoulder. It’s the first time selling your soul would be worth it. She’s uniquely positioned to understand the specific differences between a human and a devil. She can answer all of your questions, but will a year be enough time? The one time you want to use your soul productively and she doesn’t want it.

Then again, a year is an awful long time to negotiate…

You grin. “Deal.”

“It’s a promise,” she says, emphasizing the word. She watches you for a moment, lips pressed tightly. “A promise is not a deal. Say it”

“A promise is not a deal,” you echo obediently.

She doesn’t look like she believes you. “This has been a long talk. You can ask your first question tomorrow morning.”

Ugh, that’s hours away. However, compromising is the key to a good relationship on the road. You nod. “Sounds fair. Do you want me to take the first watch, or…”

“I’m a devil,” she says. She shakes her head, finally turning her back on you to go back to her bedroll. “We don’t need a watch.”

You make the appropriate impressed noises as you both settle in for the night. The fire is low, but the night is unseasonably warm. You watch her from your peripherals, your blanket pulled tight to your chin.

She may be comfortable not setting up a watch, but you aren’t. You’ve seen too many devils try to run away when they think you’re asleep.

You grin into the dark. You can’t wait for morning.

-----------------.

Thanks for reading! I love adding twists to stories where the power shifts between two people so dramatically. The MC may have won this round, but only a very clever woman makes a deal like this devil did.

If you’d like to read all sorts of short stories that I’ve written as well as stories like this, I post a week early on my Patreon (X).

Next week’s short story:

The Apartment

Summary: Emmaline isn't lonely. The AI in her family's apartment makes sure of that.

Thanks again for readin’!

#my writing #second person #my devil deals #deals with the devil

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hoyotournament · 2 months

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Round 2: Kujou Sara vs Yae Sakura

(Propoganda under the cut)

Kujou Sara:

god she's so full of guilt and insecurity and i think she's such a fun reflection of inazuma's quality (eternity) because her entire character sits on a house of cards!! when sara was young she was thrown off of a mountain trying to protect her home! she gains her vision here, as she fell while saying how she believed she could protect her home forever! passerbys found her and sara was adopted into the kujou clan who believed she, who held a vision, was a sign of the gods' favor. she was taken in, not out of kindness or of compassion, but as a tool. this reflects in how she was treated in her childhood! she feels so isolated and alienated from her adopted family! she was reprimanded for playing with the other soldiers and those soldiers would be punished! takayuki (her adoptive father) literally said, "Not following military law and neglecting your training… I did not take you in just to have you do such pointless things." she is a pawn! she was never allowed to have her own identity as herself because ever since integrating into the human world, she's always had to be the pride of the kujou clan! even her devotion to the raiden shogun, something she sees as her duty because the vision she holds is proof to her that someone has recognized her worth, is something that rips her of her own individual identity! remember her duel with kazuha's friend? regardless of anything sara knows that the shogun would have killed her if she had failed!! because she has always been used as a tool she has never truly known the stability of a community that loves her for who she is rather than the role she fills!! i think this is especially clear when we learn of the kujou clan's betrayal and see sara's disappointment and anger since it not only went against the very two roles that she's been defined by her whole life, it went against her very will to protect others (AGAIN! THE VERY THING SHE WAS TRYING TO DO WHEN SHE GAINED HER VISION).

Yae Sakura:

everything about her is so tragically beautiful. all she wants is to save the life of her sister and no matter what situation or reality the two of them end up in she's NEVER able to. the honkai destroyed any chance of a normal life for the two of them, and she sacrificed herself so that her friends could have a chance of survival. even after everything that had happened with MOTH, she still trusted that MEI and kevin would end the herrscher of corruption and live to fight another day as long as she gave them the chance.

#hoyoverse women tournament #hoyoverse #genshin impact #tournament poll #genshin #kujou sara #honkai impact 3rd #hi3 #yae sakura

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horrorslvts · 7 months

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just my type | leo valdez part one

keywords : leo valdez, riordanverse, canon x oc

writer's note : uhh yall ate up the idea of a daughter of hermes oc x leo valdez so mommy will feed u my children... i present to you absolute chaos and comedic relief couple. enjoy.. ship is very inspired by 'just my type - the vamps'

the sound of metal hitting against metal reached the girl's ears, making her eyebrows stiffen a bit as she made her way onto the real crime scene; all those awful sounds came from argo II being made; and although silena de leon, daughter of hermes; beloved half-sister of luke castellan really respected the cause, the sound made her absolutely cringe.

the raven haired girl almost tripped over a few tools that had been abandoned in the middle of the way, making her cuss under her breath and look down at her sneakers to make sure they were not damaged by some stupid leftover hammer. with a little shake of the head silena finally approached the curly haired boy who was, apparently, putting some wooden planks on the side of the boat, and also spaced out enough to not realize she was making her way near. he stood on the third step of a high ladder. "hey bob the builder; don't you want to catch a break sometime?"

leo looked down at the -surprisingly- shorter girl, and flashed a little smile. he lifted his arm to wipe some dust away from his face and nose with his sleeve and shrugged a bit. "if you are asking me to-" he gently threw the hammer on his hand aside, letting it fall on some spare nails, and stepped down from the ladder he was on. "interrupted your sleep again? sorry, i'll make sure to delay an entire quest so you can get a few more hours of naps" leo said with a little chuckle and leaned with one arm on the boat, his hand running through his curls pushing them back making silena watch in awe.

now, silena and leo didn't know each other long. for what it's worth, silena met him and percy through annabeth who she has known forever; given that luke set them up to be friends when sil arrived at the camp for the first time; and they actually did. but gods, ever since meeting this dam son of hephaestus she had been losing her mind. whether it was the back and forth signs and jokes, or the absolute denial that either of them would ever see each other in any way above platonic; something made her heart skip a beat whenever she was close to the tanned boy, that's all she knew; should have seen her face when he first laughed at her spaniard accent; any other person would have taken a punch but he just got lucky with a push.

"yeah, that'd be so sweet of you!"

leo gave her a death stare with a chuckle, knowing damn well she wasn't anywhere near serious.

"so if it isn't that, why pay us a visit?"

silena slowly walked towards the rope ladder of the ship, tugging on it . "just curious to see how the ship is going. very good apparently." she pulled herself up the rope ladder which instantly caused a reaction by the other, making leo rush to bring her down in case she fell.

"whoa whoa you know that's not tied well yet right?!"

sil sat on one of the rope ladder's thin steps, only a couple feet above him and chuckled, swinging her feet to show her winged sneakers. "why do you always forget valdez?"

the curly haired sighed a bit. " if you get all tangled up in the ropes these aren't going to save you-." he looked at her from below with that signature troublemaking smile that brought an aching on her heart.

"i know, but you will."

the boy let his suspenders fall from each shoulder and climbed back up on his ladder, finally reaching her height and being almost face to face with the blue eyed girl; his breath was always cut short when the two were this close. it was funny how after so long of percy and annabeth being sappy now annabeth teased these two like her life depended on it.

"although you're not exactly knight in shining armor material.." silena reached to wipe his forehead from some mechanical oil. " more like greasy armor.."

"you know what's funny, sil?"

"hm?"

"your back is touching my fresh painted planks-."

sil finally realized why her shirt was sticking on her back for the past minute.

"VALDEZ-!"

#sheissoinlovewithhimipromise #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez imagines #leo valdez #percy jackson #pjo #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus

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gepardling · 1 year

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late bloomer II w/ gepard.

desc. : Ain't no way that I'm projecting, look me in the eyes and tell me he wouldn't be an emotional wreck before he managed to ask you out (wc : 2.1k)

tags / cw : sfw, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns, just fluff, more of Gepard's emotional well-being, he actually asks you out in this one, edited post-release

index : part I

Gepard's newfound infatuation had taken hold of him like a whirlwind, sweeping him into a realm of emotions he had never experienced before. He found himself working less overtime, opting to spend his free time cooking or tending to flowers instead of training. Somehow, he even managed to keep his plants alive this time, but it was probably because of him actually watering them instead of disappearing for nights on end to work. Still, he liked to think the meaning was deeper than that.

Despite his growing fondness for his hobbies, intrusive thoughts of the girl he had met wormed their way into his mind. Gepard wasn't as secretive about his crush as he had thought he was either, and nearly every one of his soldiers could tell that something was up with the Captain. His usually steady hands shook ever so slightly, betraying the storm of butterflies that fluttered about his heart. He seemed to have a permanent flush dusted across his ears, often heard humming to himself in his office when he thinks he's alone. His leg even continued to bounce in annoyance while he rushed to finish his paperwork. Everyone knew that something (or rather, someone) had captured the Captain’s heart, even if he didn't openly confess to it himself.

He’d caught glimpses of her a few times since their accidental encounter, witnessing her traversing to and from Qlipoth Fort. With each passing sighting, the bandage on her head grew smaller, and the memory of their first meeting began to fade into the recesses of his mind. Yet, despite his longing to speak to her, Gepard found himself paralyzed by a suffocating shyness that consumed him from within. He couldn’t help but gaze wistfully while the butterflies and rose petals consumed his guts from the inside.

It was almost sickening, how lovestruck the poor boy had become, but he couldn't shake the grip it had on him. But Gepard's fear stemmed from the awkwardness of their initial encounter. He dreaded the possibility that his mere presence would reignite those uncomfortable feelings, further solidifying him as an intimidating figure in her eyes. Except, the way he stared her down from a distance didn’t help one bit, and she was fully aware of his piercing gaze on the back of her head.

Lost in his confusion and yearning, Gepard found himself seeking solace once again at the Neverwinter workshop. The fear of losing his own sanity pushed him to visit his sister's sanctuary after work, oblivious to the curious glances he received as he marched through town with a purposeful stride that bordered on madness. But who could blame him? His once orderly life had been turned on its head by a chance encounter with a girl. As he entered the workshop, he hastily shut the door behind him, having piqued the interest of Serval stationed behind the counter.

"Oh? And what's got you in such a hurry, brother dearest?" She inquired, a hint of mischief laced in her tone. Serval sets down her tools, raising an eyebrow at Gepard's continued silence. While he looked confident on the outside, he was melting down inside. It took him a minute to swallow the lump in his throat before he could speak, his voice trembling slightly.

"It's her," he admitted, awkwardly clearing his throat before continuing, "The girl I told you about, I can't stop thinking about her…" Gepard sighed heavily in defeat, and the warmth creeping up his neck at his embarrassing revelation urged him to tug at his collar. Suddenly, his shoes seemed very interesting to him.

Serval’s eyes widened momentarily, before a knowing grin spread across her lips, "Ah, the mysterious girl who shook the unshakeable Captain. You've been thinking of her all this time?"

Gepard nodded, blush creeping higher up his cheeks. "I've been considering, well… Talking to her again. But it's not easy for me, you know that."

Serval’s expression brightened. "You should know better than to doubt yourself like that," she chirped, making her way around the counter to stand in front of him. "You can do it, Gepard. You talk to people all the time! Just don’t treat her like a fugitive and you’ll be fine," she assured, hand playfully mussing up his hair.

"Thanks…" he uttered, gently swiping her hand away. “You don’t always have to treat me like a kid, you know…”

“Yeah…” Serval sighed, a cheeky little smile playing upon her lips, “But other big sisters got to tease their little brothers about their crushes too, so it’s my turn now.” She chuckled, placing both hands on her hips, “Tell you what, next time you see her? Just go talk to her. Don’t even think about it.”

Gepard let out an internal sigh as he bid farewell to his sister and stepped out of the workshop. He couldn't help but find Serval's advice both frustrating and thought-provoking. Deep down, he knew she was right. Perhaps he was overcomplicating matters with his hesitation. Walking through the bustling streets of the town, he allowed his thoughts to wander. The complicated swirl of emotions that gripped his heart couldn't be easily dismissed or resolved. It was true that he was inexperienced in matters of the heart, but he had to start somewhere. He couldn't continue to hide behind his shyness and reluctance.

Gepard reached a turning point, realizing that wearing his heart on his sleeve was the only way forward. He needed to confront his feelings head-on, even if it meant risking rejection or embarrassment. The thought of continuing to dwell in uncertainty and missed opportunities was no longer tolerable. It was time to cast aside his reservations and let his feelings be known. The road ahead was uncertain, but Gepard was willing to embrace the journey, no matter the outcome.

Yet, his steps faltered as he turned the corner at Qlipoth Fort, his resolve crumbling like a fragile facade. There she was, standing at the bottom of the steps, engrossed in conversation with another soldier. His heart leaped into his throat, and he could feel the familiar fluttering return. Despite catching a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye, she seemed oblivious to his presence, focused on her task at hand. After handing the soldier a stack of papers, she turned to pick up some boxes and set off on her way again.

Watching her retreating figure, Gepard felt the desperate pull of his heartstrings, urging him to pursue her before she disappeared from his sight again. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he closed the distance between them. With each step, Gepard's mind raced, searching for the right words, the right approach. He couldn't afford to be shy or hesitant anymore. This was his chance to bridge the gap between them. As he drew near, Gepard cleared his throat, his voice steady. “Excuse me,” he said, catching the attention of the girl.

She turned her head suddenly, eyes blown wide at the sight of him. “Captain? A-Are you here to arrest me?” She inquired, a hint of shock and disbelief in her tone.

Gepard’s heart immediately sank to his boots at the thought of her fearing his presence, and he quickly shook his head, voice filled with reassurance. “No, no, not at all! I’m not here to arrest you,” he replied, tone gentle yet earnest. “I actually…” He trailed off, eyes struggling to meet hers, “I wanted to talk to you. If that’s alright.”

Her guard lowered a little, a mix of curiosity and confusion flashed across her features. “Talk? About what?” she asked, her tone cautious.

Gepard shifted his weight anxiously, but he tried his best to maintain eye contact, conveying his sincerity. “I wanted to see how you’re doing. And… Well,” deep breaths, Gepard, “To apologize for our last encounter. It was a complete accident, and I didn’t mean to startle you. I hope you’ve recovered well from your injury.”

Her expression softened, and she seemed to relax a little, releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Thank you, but it’s me who should be apologizing. And I appreciate your concern, Captain, I’m doing much better now. It was just a small injury.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Gepard mustered a small smile, relieved that he had broken through their awkward barrier. “If it’s not too forward of me to ask, I was wondering…” his gaze flickered down to the boxes she was holding, “Would you like some help with those boxes? It would be my pleasure to assist you.”

She hesitated for a moment, unsure of his intentions. He was the Captain of the Silvermane Guards, after all. Who would she be to steal his time? But he was the one offering his assistance. “I would appreciate that, actually…”

Gepard stepped forward, carefully taking one of the boxes from her hold. “You can call me Gepard, by the way. No need for formalities,” he said, his voice warm.

Gepard let her lead the way, and this time a comfortable silence filled the air. It wasn’t suffocating like their last meeting, and definitely not life-threatening in any way. If he was being honest, every moment spent in her company made Gepard feel like his heart was about to beat out of his chest, but he managed to keep himself cool. Just about. Gepard's shyness gradually gave way to genuine curiosity and a desire to know more about the girl before him. Conversation flowed naturally, sprinkled with light banter and the casual joke here and there.

Eventually, the conversation was steered towards work-related matters, and Gepard became curious about her profession. Although her responses were initially guarded, she quickly became heated with frustration the more she spoke about it. She revealed that she worked for the government, and that the recent stir with the new Supreme Guardian had caused her quite the headache, in terms of paperwork. The archives had to be updated, and every piece of official documentation needed to be copied and filed accordingly. She explained the long hours and demanding responsibilities that came with her position, mirroring Gepard's own dedication to his duties.

Outside of work, both of them didn’t have time for personal pursuits or social interactions, engrossed in their respective responsibilities. Gepard even shared his own apprehensions about his job, going as far as telling her some of the strange things his soldiers had gotten up to. His heart fluttered each time her laughter chimed through his ears, and he felt it sinking deeper and deeper into the fluffy, petal-ridden, butterfly-warzone of his chest. When he noticed her steps began to slow down, he too changed his pace.

The girl paused, and Gepard noticed they had arrived at her doorstep. As she moved to unlock the front door of her home, he couldn't help but feel a wave of nervousness crash down on him. She placed the boxes inside and turned back to face him, her eyes shining with gratitude. "Thank you for your assistance today, Captain," she beamed, but then corrected herself, "I mean, Gepard."

Gepard smiled, trying to swallow down the fluttering of butterfly wings that filled the expanse of his chest. One wrong move and it felt like they may have flown from his mouth as he spoke. The love that consumed him threatened to overflow, but he managed to keep his composure. He didn't want to overwhelm her (or himself, for the record) with his feelings just yet. "It was my pleasure," he replied, tone laced with sincerity.

After exchanging greetings, they found themselves standing on the threshold of her home. As she began to close the door, Gepard felt a sudden surge of courage that took him by surprise. Every fibre of his being yelled at him to go for it. “Wait,” he said, hastily putting his hand up to the door before she could close it completely. Curiosity flickered in her eyes as she reopened it, tilting her head inquisitively.

“Uhm, yes?” She asked, eyes widening with anticipation. “Is there something else you need, Captain?”

Gepard took a deep breath, attempting to still his racing heart and shaking hands. With each passing moment, his face grew warmer as he struggled to find the right words. Finally, he mustered enough courage to ask, “Would you like to… Get a coffee with me sometime?”

Her eyes widened in surprise, but a gentle smile soon graced her features. “I would love to,” she replied, warmth blooming in her chest. As she watched him shuffle so innocently on her doorstep, face flushed with a rosy hue, she couldn’t help but see him in a different light. Perhaps the tall Silvermane Captain wasn’t as scary as she first anticipated after all…

my brain is so mushy after writing all dis n my exam was all long questions... i mentioned butterflies so much can u tell my exam was abt insect diversity siigghhh... heart eyes for geppie rn ♥︎

#gepard fluff #gepard x reader #gepard x you #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #gepard landau #gepard hsr #♥︎ | milky writes

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whatisurspaghettipolicy · 6 months

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I think it's really fascinating that a lot of the complaints I see about Shadowheart is her to-hit rate because for me that illuminates a very clever bit of character building via her subclass mechanics. Excuse me a second, I've been a 5e DM for about six years now and I've been thinking a lot about each of the BG3 companions in terms of stats/mechanics haha.

Yes, you can go in and rebuild her and make her a light/life domain and optimise either damage or healing. But we can break down two good story reasons for her being a trickery domain cleric:

(behind a cut bc implied/actual spoilers)

1. Trickery and Shar. Shar is an evil goddess, but she's also the absolute embodiment of the Cain instinct; just a constant opp for her twin sister. She's a duplicitous trickster who has even stolen Selûne's identity in the past. Having Shadowheart as a Trickery domain reminds us - the players - that Shar is a primarily a little dickhead who loves to lie and cheat - which stands at odds with Shadowheart's massive penalties to deception.

Early on in her personal quest, just from this surface read, we know: her god lies, her god's domain and followers are all about trickery, and Shadowheart is very bad at lying directly. When you couple this with the initial places where she gets hit with the ouchies from Shar (the Blighted Village when you're reading about children being taken, the Selûne statue in the Blighted Village, finding Kagha torturing a little girl underground...) and it's quite easy to piece together the arc of her personal quest, in a very OH NO way.

(This could be a whole other stat/build conversation - as a half-elf, Shadowheart should be naturally better than average at social rolls like deception because half-elves receive an automatic +2 to their charisma score at creation...but living in a cult and having your personality shackled to a divine shock collar would absolutely affect that. And her high elf ability [firebolt] relying on intelligence to hit??? The fact that as a half-elf high elf she's likely half moon elf????? I love these little mechanical details.)

2. How trickery clerics are best used. This is where a lot of people who haven't DM'd DnD for the life of a small child fall down I think. But here's the thing: trickery domain clerics are best when they do not fight at all. They're decent healers, but it's more than that; they are advantage bots.

Blessing of the Trickster gives your allies advantage on stealth checks. Good for them.

Guiding bolt has a 70% chance to hit? That's why you use Channel Divinity: Invoke Duplicity. You add an illusory version of yourself to the field to distract and disrupt, giving advantage to your allies.

Your teammate's social encounter not going well? You can add either a quick guidance or charm person (again, giving them advantage) to the mix.

Time to sneak? Good thing you get Pass Without Trace. Let's go lesbians! That's a +10 to stealth checks for all your allies!

Each of these things is an action; she sacrifices her own action in a turn to support and aid another. Unless she has Healing Word up, she's left choosing whether to help or heal; actually fighting likely won't be super up in priorities, especially with her to-hit rate.

We know from the House of Grief that she was trained as a healer. It seems odd that she'd be in a subclass that doesn't focus on that - like the Life Domain. But this subclass gives us the greatest indication of all that she was raised as a tool for both Shar and her Mother Superior, making you, as a player, try to balance her ability to heal with her disrupting spells and abilities, meaning a sacrifice in her ability to hit any fuckin thing at all.

Anyway, chef's kiss, I love the secondary story about each companion the game tells via mechanics.

#bg3 spoilers #bg3 #shadowheart spoilers #maybe ill do a series #DM takes on BG3

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pandorafallz · 1 month

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Lest We Rest Upon Our Graves | C12

tw: heavy topics of infant loss

Alma kept her façade up as she led the way back to the Council tent where the sisters would be, her hands in tight fists as she kept her breathing in check; to keep her heart in check. Very aware as So’lek easily caught up with her but she was done now.

She could almost feel his questions but now wasn’t the time. The sisters would need to know what would be coming in a few years' time and prepare in advance. It was better to know than to be like Jake and to be taken by surprise by these new avatars.

Recoms, as a concept… Alma was honest in that she liked that. A form of rebirth into a body she could love and cherish. A body she was more familiar with. A body she could care for. To never have to worry about unlinking. A chance where she could… have children that would survive and thrive. To be accepted as one of the people like Jake.

She had no idea what the RDA used to preserve the soldier’s minds, but she certainly had no means to replicate it on her link-bed servers even if she wanted to try. Too big of a scan without the correct storage drives too. Her last remaining avatar was probably too unstable now, wherever Nalin had put it.

“Cortez.” So’lek’s shadow overtook her first. “It will be best that I explain the situation to the sisters.”

Alma’s jaw tensed a little, turning her head up to look at him unable to help the frown dent between her eyebrows but she forced herself to nod despite her disagreement of it. She had done most of the work here yet he gets the spoils. She would garner no favour here with the Zeswa. “I’m going to the ship then.” She turned without another word back the way they had taken which would fork back to the outer circle of tents.

Alma heard him call after her but she didn’t stop or acknowledge his words. Once again, dismissed. It's always the same thing. Ever the reminder she wasn’t one of them as if she wasn’t well aware. It hurt, honestly now that she was now being seen as redundant once she had given them what they wanted to know. A tool, simply like that.

Her death truly wouldn’t matter to them. In the end.

Her breath shook a little, swallowing back more for now as she walked alone to the ship.

Anqa was there and looked to be napping which was certainly well-earned but not enough for her to feel guilty as she clambered on and startling her awake.

“Huh—Oh.” Anqa sat up blearily before she looked at her monitors for something. “That wasn’t long.”

“We got the confirmations we wanted,” Alma said though she eyed the pilot for a moment. Her heart lurched a little at the long-distant memory that resurfaced.

A small tree with moss, a dug hole with the metal box, hands shaking as she lowered it down…

“Is there enough fuel to get to TAP’s school in the Kinglor forest and back to Base?” Alma asked, withdrawing from the thought sharply to keep herself from spiralling. Now was not the time, she could wait until she had answers. If Harding was being truthful or just...being damn cruel for bringing up something she had tried to not think about and had long since buried.

Anqa blinked at her for a long moment then down to her instruments. “Yes, but I’m not making that trip today.”

“I need to go there, Anqa.” Alma couldn’t help the firmness in her voice. “We’re closer here than we are in the clouded forest. It’s shorter.”

“I’m not making another trip unless we’re returning back to base.” Anqa argued, “I’m sorry but I’m too damn tired.”

“Then nap here for a little bit. The sisters are still talking to So’lek.” She could sit and wait for Anqa to rest if it meant—

“No. I’m going back to sleep in my own bed.”

“Anqa—“

“I said no, Cortez!” Anqa snapped, her voice raising a fraction. “I know you want to go there but I’ve been in the middle of a war this morning. I’ve been up since four getting my ship in action. What you want is not my priority when I need to rest in a safe place and in the arms of the woman I love.”

Alma blinked at the pilot, taken aback entirely and even Anqa looked a little surprised at her own outburst but her expression remained set. Alma dropped her gaze, offering a single nod before she withdrew from the Samson cockpit entirely and out.

“Cortez…” Anqa sighed, sounding frustrated and apologetic but she already shut the small airlock between and slipped from the ship entirely.

She didn’t go far. Not really. Alma wasn’t stupid enough to just wander off now but she settled on the grass about 15 meters from Samson, legs outstretched, her bruised arm resting against her thigh and the other set back to support her weight. The wind was still sharp and she could feel the pressures of it push against her mask and how it flurried through her clothes. Cold, but bearable.

Cold like the lab had always been. She didn’t feel like she was sitting in the Circle either…

‘Hey, Alma. Give us a spin!’

Alma’s head turned around from her desk to see the familiar face of Dr Michael Brookes standing by, his tablet up and recording. She gave him a look. “Put that down, I’m working.” She waved it away although he didn’t lower it.

“Look, you’re carrying the first ever human going to be born on Pandora! This is for research!”

“Have you gloated you help make it?” She eyed her fiancee with a look.

Michael just grinned, “You’re doing all the hard work, Doc. My job is done.”

“Ha, like hell it isn’t.” She retorted back, “You’ve already agreed to be very involved so you’re on diaper duty.” Alma twirled her engagement ring at him as she stood up from her desk though careful with how large the bump was but at Michael’s pouty look behind the tablet, she rolled her eyes, giving a soft spin with a hand on the front of her belly. “Happy?”

“Very!” Michael lowered the tablet down, setting it off to the side against the desk lamp as his hands came to the bump. “Only a few weeks to go.”

Alma smiled, moving his hand to the heel of the baby’s foot. “Thank god.”

Michael snorted, “That eager?”

“She head-butts my bladder and I can barely fit into my link-bed now. Even with the alterations made to the top chamber and supports for my body. I can’t do more than an hour linked up before I have to unlink to move about.” It was an increasingly frustrating thing and she knew Mercer was getting annoyed but she had to value her own physical health here and for making sure her child’s development was unhindered.

“Well, that shouldn’t hamper your work too much when you’re not with the kids. They’re still…adapting.” Michael looked uncomfortable, his eyes remaining down on the bump though Alma felt the rise of guilt still but quashed it. “They’ll get a new avatar driver teacher once you’re ready to go. Hell’s Gate would be far better suited for our daughter anyway. I’ll be going there tomorrow to get set up anyway. I can meet you there.”

Alma nodded. “I know it’s just…hard to leave them.” After all that the kids have gone through this past year… a new face might throw them off. Still, another Avatar was far better than a human face. They did respond well to her given she looked Na’vi to them enough. She could still help at a distance with the new driver too. She could still make it a success. If… she was lucky, maybe once her daughter was bigger, she could introduce them to the Sarentu kids.

Alma’s breath shook as she let the memory play out in her head from so long ago. It felt like a different lifetime. Everything had gone downhill from that day onwards. It brought back a new pain in her heart. Long buried—suppressed even—from herself to avoid feeling that grief and loss. She had done so well to avoid it for over three decades.

Him. Her.

It was still as raw and sharp as before… but Alma tried to keep herself from crumbling. Not out here. Not with the Zeswa about; they wouldn’t understand her conflicts.

But what if Harding was right? She never had an autopsy done on her to see at the time. Alma had been sick when she had been in recovery from the delivery, labour had not been smooth and the baby had gotten stuck given she had become breech and they hadn’t been able to turn her. A C-section had been required when her health took a very serious decline.

The scar being the only reminder now on her human body of her pain and loss. She hated it the most on this body, why she hated looking down at her naked form in the shower. The avatar never had that scar nor the history or the grief that came with it; her escape and new reality.

While it was easy to kill a baby and not leave a mark on bones, traces of the development was affected would show on the bones. Alma could only imagine it was through tampered food that could have affected her pregnancy. Perhaps long-term? She needed those bones to see; to confirm…

“<You sit alone outside the safety of your metal ship?>”

Alma stiffened up in surprise, her head turned sharply to see Minang of all Na’vi crouching down beside her, looking a little high-nosed but otherwise seemingly content to be here.

“<I got into a…disagreement with the rider.>” Alma stated, her heart fluttering nervously at the sheer size difference, pulling her injured arm more out of sight. Even if she knew Minang wasn’t going to hurt her. “<It was too awkward to wait inside.>”

“<So’lek informed us of what was shared. I came with…questions myself that he couldn’t answer. He said you left abruptly with hurt feelings.>”

“<What questions did you have?>”

“<Dreamwalkers, how long do they take to grow and birth?>”

Ah, made sense they’d want to know that. They had only ever dealt with them after the fact, not the waiting game. “The avatars are typically grown on the way to Pandora, which is about six years on board. It depends on when Harding applied for the program. If she applied for it on the way, then the Dreamwalker body is more or less grown by this point. If the RDA wait until death is confirmed to put the avatar into full gestation, then it could take as little as three years for them to produce her Dreamwalker. They’ll use a more aggressive growth supplement when on site than those grown on route.>”

“<How much will this Dreamwalker have of the Harding we have?>”

“<If she had what scan they did to preserve the mind before she left for the West Frontier, then she wouldn’t have any recollection of the Zeswa clan or poaching or black-market schemes. She’ll retain her personality and memories up until that point.>” She knew Harding hadn’t poached prior to her second arrival so it was certainly going to be an interesting file for the Recom to read.

“<Maybe this Dreamwalker will learn from her true self and stay away,>” Minang remarked, “<But we will keep our eyes out regardless for all the children of Eywa.>”

Alma hummed airily.

For a moment, there was silence but Alma stared ahead, swallowing thickly as the distant Ikran were dancing about, snapping at each other in either a piss-fight or play. Honestly, very much like the Zeswa dance fighters.

“<So’lek didn’t mention you were unwell. I can sense a shadow behind you that our elders or sick often feel before they return to Eywa.>” Minang stated, her brow creasing. “<He mentioned Harding threatened you as you left.>”

“<She wasn’t.>” Alma shook her head. “<I’m dying. Harding knew that.>”

Minang’s eyes turned to her slowly. “<How?>”

“<My Dreamwalker died. It’s well known in the RDA that a dead avatar condemns its driver to a similar fate if they’re connected at the time of its death.>” Alma let out a shaky breath. “<I haven’t told a lot of people, So’lek included. It’s not something I want to advertise. I’d rather go quietly.>”

Minang’s head tilted but nodded once. Of course, she understood the notion of that all too well. The Zeswa’s way of death, their tradition was to talk away and not return; to lighten the burden of loss on the family and the clan. She could trust in telling Minang and trust she would not spread it around.

Hopefully.

Alma didn’t talk when they journeyed back to Resistance Base. Ignoring both So’lek and Anqa and was first out and into the base before either of them. Her steps took her typically back to the medical bay in search of Nalin.

The bay looked busy and Nalin looked to be occupied so Alma skirted out and back to the bunks which were occupied but most people looked to be either asleep or having downtime. Her bag was still there so she grabbed that and headed back to the office away from everyone.

Thankfully, it was empty so Alma took her place at the desk, set her bag down and stared at it for a long moment. Her heart fluttered in her chest a little at what this had; what she had kept hidden away in it. A small thing really.

A thumb drive.

It was still in there, small in her palm and it carried a weight in her lungs as she properly turned it in her fingers. Personal files from so long ago. Buried. Kept locked away from even her own tablets to keep the memories away but was unwilling to delete them entirely.

Her hands shook as she pushed it into the USB hub and tapped along the screen, her heart in her mouth as she accessed the data and a few pictures popped up.

The science team photographs, Her, Mercer, Michael and her fellow colleagues. She stood more off to the side, Michael’s arm around her.

Another was simply of her and Michael again, much later down the line, a personal photo rather than a work one. Alma distantly remembered him setting down the camera on a timer, pulling her around from her desk with hands on her belly. It had made her laugh at the time. They had been…happy. Despite the blood on their hand, despite their line of work; they had wanted to make it work and not just for the baby either.

An ultrasound scan, or a few was also part of her collection. A 3D scan of a little, sleepy face with her thumb in her mouth. However, on the scan, it showed she had had a complete unilateral cleft lip and pallet. Nothing that couldn’t be repaired with a little bit of surgery after birth. It hadn’t mattered to her because she was beautiful.

It gave Alma pause now just…wondering if the cleft lip was a sign of a tampered pregnancy. Long-term tampering could have caused deformities beyond what she had seen here; the cleft lip was common in humans and Michael’s father had it. She had just assumed it was genetic.

What if it wasn’t?

Her nails clinked in a soft echo as she moved through her files, going forward to the scans prior to that fateful one. Then… after. A little photo of the newborn, asleep if you didn’t know any better. Light skin that would have darkened up out of the womb, fluffy dark curls that were still stuck to her head. Lay wrapped in a little pink and white knitted blanket.

Her heart ached for the loss, yet she yearned to hold her still. She had forgotten the ache. The pain… knowing she couldn’t get to raise her. Couldn’t even birth her alive. She thought she had done something wrong in those last few days. Mercer had said she hadn’t looked after herself well enough. That she had done this to herself. To her baby.

Alma had believed him.

It felt foolish of her to think that now. Natural Stillbirths were never the fault of the mother. If Michael had been alive at her bedside at the time, he certainly wouldn’t have blamed her for it. But he wasn’t. She had been alone.

All she had after that were the Kids. Life in TAP was all she had to think about. It kept her own pain away and gave her new attachments. New focus.

A new life, so to speak.

“Cortez, you busy?”

Alma didn’t move or change the picture swiftly though her eyes slid to see Alex poking his head around the door frame.

“No.” her voice was low but curt, her throat felt thick but she could speak enough to carry across the room.

She shifted as he drifted in and she didn’t meet his eye as he looked at the image with a question in his eyes.

“I’ve…got the plans for the baghouse filters all set and the Aranahe had provided the first patches of piping for at least three machines. I plan to get a team together once we’re recovered to the Moot site to take the barrels back to the TAP facility.” Alex stated, going back to business despite his lingering look. “Your…suggestion seems the best viable one since Kìoetey assured me that the building can be sealed off from the environment.”

Alma nodded. “Are you going to use chemical treatments still?”

“Kìoetey mentioned water sources being contaminated. I want to drain the contaminated pond water and treat it separately. We can return the water to nature when it’s at a safe level to do so.” Alex explained before his eyes returned to the screen. “Who’s that?”

Alma’s throat tightened a little. “My daughter, Amanda.”

Alex’s head tilted. “I didn’t know you had a kid.” He sounded generally surprised as he leaned down to see the image more closely.

“I don’t.”

Alex’s posture stiffened up as the realisation seemed to hit him. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry, Cortez.”

Alma didn’t look at him but nodded. “She…passed a long time ago. I don’t know why I opened this can of worms.” She closed the pictures swiftly. “Harding was just…getting under my skin.”

“Harding?”

“It’s nothing. She…implicated her death wasn’t natural like I believed.” Alma went to tug the drive out when Alex’s hand came to her wrist, soft and gentle.

“Anything I can do?”

“Unless you can dig up her bones and bring them to me to test, not really.” Alma shook her head, regretting the thumping pain the motion brought thought from the background. “Anqa turned me down when I asked so… I guess I’ll never know.”

“Where…where did you bury her?”

“Outside the TAP school. I found this…little spot above a little stream beside a Night Leaf tree. I scored the bark with a cross simple as a grave marker.” Alma explained. “In case I ever wanted to go back. I didn’t want to bury them there but… it was the best I had at the time. I didn’t want to leave them at TAP-Con 1 like the others. Never brought myself to move them before, even when we went back for the kids. I…forgot.” She felt guilt surface at that. Forgetting.

“You focused on the living.” Alex reminded, “There’s no disrespect on prioritising the kids that were inside.”

Alma let out a shaky breath. “I suppose.” She shook her head. “Sorry, this isn’t why you’re here. Let me help with what’s important here.” She pulled the thumb drive out of the hub and shoved it back into her bag for now and reached for his tablet.

Kìoetey crouched carefully as she scoured through the foliage. An unexpected request from Alex but she had been glad to do something else. The sun was low in the early afternoon now and her present for Teylan was almost done but she was lacking a few things to complete it. She wanted more inspiration as well as ideas to help pass on to Teylan.

Returning to the Kinglor forest was still pleasant, so close to the TAP school…not as much. Alex had said she didn’t have to go if she was too uncomfortable but… she didn’t see why not. The trip was still wonderful and beautiful. Tapering away the… shifting weight of the last few hours had handed to her now that Mercer was dead.

Truly.

Freedom was truly theirs now. She didn’t have to worry about him ever again…or Harding for that matter. It still was nice to feel useful, even with the uncomfortable proximity to the school. But Alex had asked and she could feel it would mean a lot to him to do this for him.

She could do that.

“Little stream, Night-leaf tree…” She muttered to herself, trying to look for those features. Coordinates would have been nice but… who knew what she was looking for that was buried here.

It took about two more minutes before she found signs of a stream, dried up now, more or less but the terrain showed its little pathway that weaved through up so Kìoetey followed it curiously. Then the tree came to sight, five feet from the stream used to be so she headed toward it and knelt down. Her fingers touched the bark, bushing past the moss closer to its roots before the… healed markings of what Alex described showed up. A vertical line down, a shorter horizontal line across near its top.

She was at the right spot. Good. But the healing looked old. Something had been buried here for a long time. Would it still be here?

Kìoetey set the bag she was given off and gently began to remove the top foliage that had long taken over. The soil was matted with moister as she began to remove slowly from the roots, not too close to the tree but enough that looked suitably distanced for the burial of an item. It took five minutes of careful removal before she felt her fingers skim something hard. Her heart leapt a little as she turned her focus to that, shifting the soil until she had…unearthed a small, metal box.

Rusted, about the same size of a spare-box container and looked more like a personal belongings box. It was hard to make out what it was, even as she lifted it from the dirt. The case looked to be warped and dented with a few holes as well. There was ratting inside. A lot of ratting and a metal ting as well. There was weight to it, surprisingly. A part of her felt tempted to open it; to peek at what was inside that was so important but…her gut seemed to twist at the thought. No. This wasn’t hers to open. Alex would want to open it himself.

Masterlist

#avatar #avatar au #avatar james cameron #avatar frontiers of pandora #so'lek frontiers of pandora #frontiers of pandora #alma cortez #minang #zeswa clan #sarentu #ri'nela #teylan #nor #john mercer #priya chen #nesim

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like-sands-of-time · 10 months

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Do you think the writers realized that the way Gaius was flipping back and forth between "Merlin you're overreacting/seeing things that aren't there/trying to change the future" and "Merlin the situation is dire/this is definitely what's happening/you alone must do this ~dangerous~ thing"

Combined with the way he is a known sorcerer, not only to the court but to the king, kept like the other magical artifacts for times of injury to the royal family that his magic might be useful

Combined with the way this man picks and chooses when to help magic users escape Camelot unharmed or when to stand by and see them captured/killed

Combined with the way he gaslights the shit out of morgana even after he knows Merlin and Morgana know of her powers

That it All equates to a massively manipulative person????? He's doing everything he can to survive, damn the very real shit going on around him. Oh what's the best course of action for another child of magic born to the same lady Vivienne who's first child you snuck out of camelot? Keep her in the dark, keep her fearful and unaware of her dreams and her powers, but yeah she's Evil now because she chooses to see the good in magic and the evil in the king for killing it (which is just another plot issue but whatever nows not the time).

We can only imagine what Camelot looked like in the days of the dragons and all other magic kind, probably a lot healthier, more vibrant, more prosperous. Nevermind that Gaius got to spend his whole youth with that prosperity, Morgana (and Merlin) surely can't miss something she never had!!!!!!!!!!!

And Merlin! Sure he takes Hunith and Balinor's boy in, because he needs an apprentice, because the circumstances line up, because destiny, whatever the reason. And he cares about Merlin's life enough to sacrifice himself multiple times (only because Merlin is Emrys the god among men, immortal, sworn to serve Arthur the once and future king for all of time) But he does not really help Merlin in the following ten years. The boy who came to Camelot, the opinions he held, the care he had for others, that boy is lost or warped more like through years of Gaius' (and Kilgharrah before they just like changed his personality) careful commentary undermining Merlins beliefs and changing his actions. Then when said actions obviously work out poorly(think, self fulfilling prophecy episodes, episodes where Merlin is convinced to outright lie to Arthur's face, etc) then it's Merlins fault and Gaius is there to comfort him and then they share a funny little moment and everything's fine !!!

Like, did the writers mean to write it like this because ho-ly shit! That's how it reads every single episode. Merlin the young warlock would not have done these things. The boy he was in season one? When confronted with admitting his magic(the thing he was so self conscious of, but so proud of at the same time) or lying to Arthur to his face he would have spoken the truth. Gaius (and Kilgharrah) turned him into a man deceitful manipulative tool, bent on controlling Arthur without ever telling him the truth and letting him make his own mind.

Because that Arthur, the Arthur of season one, would have taken in the knowledge of both Merlin his friend, and morgana his sister, and stood up for them, helped keep them safe, accepted them and their magic. That Arthur clearly loved morgana and Merlin above all else, even though he struggled with saying it, he proved it in his actions. Merlin (through his mentors) TURNs Arthur from magic, when he was willing to save Mordred, willing to sympathize with magic users, to see their worth, to spare them if they did not commit crimes, willing to accept the help of a foreign mage in the caves, and willing to question his father To!! His !! Face!! About the knights code.

You're telling me Merlin would forget about these things, would lie to Arthur that Morgause lied, when he could have just said, hey she showed you your mum, but killing your dad isn't the answer. How FUCKING hard would that have been? This show made Merlin a bad guy, a man against his own kind. that's the real tragedy. Merlin, emrys, would never do these things in season one. He had to be convinced by his mum not to tell Arthur after will died. He was willing to share. The show themselves didn't want it, because it provided comedy(how does Arthur not see!!1!) And angst (how does Arthur not see !?!)

#merlin emrys #gaius #arthur pendragon #morgana pendragon #Kilgharrah #bbc merlin critical #bbc merlin #dude apologies for such a long fkin post i just went rant mode huh

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f1oricide · 8 months

Note

You got any rise ocs ? Love to see them ^-^

Omg thx for asking, I do actually!! If you go further down my page, I draw her human form for a fanfic I really love. I don’t have a name for her yet bc names are hard :/ BUT! I do have a little backstory for her

She is a battle nexus champion, but she occasionally works as a debt collector of some sorts for big mama. She hates getting her hands dirty so she uses magic claws as weapons. You can’t see it bc of the angle her hand is in, but in her glove, there’s an oval shaped gem that creates the claws for its user. If she has the gloves off, she can’t create those claws.

She loves magic! It’s so fascinating to her and she wants to study hard to be the very best sorcerer there is, but due to some unconventional events she’s got a bad rep at witch town, so she tends to steal magical artifacts when she’s out.

The reason she always goes back to big mama and her battle nexus is bc she’s a black cat, which isn’t bad at all but her power is probability control. She can manipulate fortune AND misfortune, but she struggles to control her magic which ends up inconveniencing to even hurting others around her. She can steal peoples luck as well to give her an upper hand in battle, which is why her eyes can glow a bright yellow.

For a cat with bad luck, there really isn’t any option for her but to go back to the place that accepts her even if it’s for their entertainment.

Now she isn’t the strongest physically, so she relies on her speed, magic and tools to win battles. She uses Mantis styled fighting techniques in hand to hand combat, but a flaw she has when fighting is that she puts too much focus on one thing she forgets about her surroundings which could potentially hurt her or allies.

Id like to believe she’s quiet but when she gets to know you, she gets very chatty, a bit snarky, overzealous, and pretty quick witted. She always has a trick up her sleeve…she has a lot of things up there. Very mischievous, sometimes can go too far with her tricks. Lowkey a bit condescending, but she chill ig.

She’s def a morally gray character, a bit chaotic neutral, the kind that does good or bad stuff for her benefit and maybe her friends too.

She’s known big mama since she was a kitten, so she knows her way around battle nexus ( may or may not be big mamas fav ).

She was born as a twin, her sister being a white haired kitten, both parents had white fur so u see where this is going. Kinda the black sheep in the family, she’s always causing trouble but she means well, her sister is the complete opposite tho. Has the power cause luck and take misfortune away, her sister became the favorite but she got a nasty personality. They always budded heads and fought but eventually her sister and her friends provoked her to the point she scratched her sister in the face out of self defense, the parents got mad and tried to declaw her but she ran away.

Now idk where in time I would like her to meet the turtles and April, but I have a story in my head inspired by some fanfic I read.

So she gets called into big mamas office for a new assignment, capture the turtles alive and bring them to her. Usually when she out she doesn’t have the authorization to bring her targets to the hotel, just to collect and come back. Even if she did, I’d be taken care of by goons, not big mama personally, so she’ll def recognize that it’s a big job if big mama is telling her this personally.

So she conducts research on the turtles but stalking them pretty much and finds out they’re friends with a girl named April O’Neil, so she uses a cloaking choker to enroll at her school and befriend April. It works and eventually, the turtles do some stupid shit and end up getting “found out” by her and April.

Slowly they all become friends (Leo has his suspicions) and eventually she gets invited to the lair by Mikey. She becomes the closest to him not only bc he’s the most social, but he has great magical potential, and she’s intrigued.

Once she gains all of their trust (may take a while) she eventually calls all big mamas goons to their lair and captures them, but at this point, she knows they’re actually good people and not the usual targets she gets assigned to, so after an inner battle with herself, she caves and lets them go, despite the fear in her veins at the thought of big mamas wrath.

I don’t wanna spoil TOO much abt this even tho I most definitely did💀

I wanna write abt her story and her relationship with the turtles and April (specifically one turt in particular;) idk I’m open to any suggestions and as always, sorry if this is a bit all over the place :))

#rottmnt #fanart #rottmnt oc

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