#anyway I think it’s the quest system that fucks me up
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@antiobjecttaskforce the game is pathfinder wrath of the righteous
#stupid snake talk#I would’ve replied 2 u but alas.. phone is broken 😭#n’ if I use my computer it’ll make 2 much noise#anyway I think it’s the quest system that fucks me up#idk. idk why I’m so addicted. I’ve been addicted to games before but not like this 😭😭
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The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)
I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.
It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time
tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b
When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.
It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆
Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!
I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.
The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.
Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.
And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.
“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.
“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”
“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.
Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”
“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”
Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”
Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.
Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”
“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.
“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”
Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”
Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”
Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.
What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.
“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.
“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”
He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.
"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.
“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."
Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”
“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”
He sighed, “I’m not.”
Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”
He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”
“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.
Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.
With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.
With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.
His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.
His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”
This is ridiculous.
Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.
Nothing.
"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.
He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.
He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.
Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.
After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.
So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.
It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.
Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.
In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.
But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.
Still.
He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.
He held his breath, unconsciously.
With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.
"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."
Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.
Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.
"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.
"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.
But today, they were soft and out of focus.
"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.
"Am I dreaming?"
He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."
"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"
Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.
Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.
"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."
He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"
You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.
"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.
A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.
“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.
“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.
You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”
His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.
"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.
"When was your last time, mon cher?"
Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."
"You're in hell now."
"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.
"Look at me."
Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.
With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.
Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.
He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?
Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.
He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."
Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.
He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.
A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.
"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.
He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.
No.
Not enough.
Too soon.
A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.
He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.
When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.
Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.
He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.
"My doe?"
Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"
"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."
The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.
"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.
Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"
Suddenly, silence.
The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"
"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.
"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.
"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"
Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.
"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"
"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."
"Yet..." She cocked her brow.
"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."
Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"
"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.
She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"
His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."
He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.
But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?
"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."
Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.
For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.
To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.
He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.
Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.
The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.
One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.
You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.
And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.
Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.
He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.
When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”
༻Masterlist༺
#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x you#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#fanfiction#alastor smut#alastor#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader smut#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel smut#alastor the radio demon#radio demon#the radio demon#x you smut#smut writing#smut fanfiction#reader fic#x reader#reader insert
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buddy system
a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 4.2k
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he comes with you to rescue your twin brothers, Pollux and Castor. A weekend 'quest' teaches you a lot about Luke, and about yourself too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
a/n: um i cant apologize for this word count and ive been looking at this for too long so fuck. Anyways do yall think Luke felt bad when he found out Castor died in battle because of his army in this universe? just me?? okay :) also trouble gets a cool magic item that makes an appearance here, kinda works like polyjuice but with smoke
(posted 2/7/24 betad by lovely ellie @lixzey might edit again when i get some sleep)
—
“No. You might be my father, but you’re crazy, man!”
You’re standing in D’s office at the Big House, and what was supposed to be a short talk before the counselors’ meeting has turned into a full-blown argument. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the words leaving your godrent’s mouth.
You’re going to pick up your little brothers.
“Those two statements are both true, kid. You’re old enough to understand that!”
They need your help.
“You’re really letting your 16-year-old daughter drive down to Florida by herself to pick up some kids she’s never met? Won’t even send me with any quest companions, or like, Grover?” you say exasperatedly, before slumping down into a seat.
“Think of it as family bonding! They’re great from what I remember. You all need to get along anyway.”
Whether it was jealousy or the sudden urge to be petty, you impulsively grab your dad’s Diet Coke and chug it, crushing the can with your fist as a tiny act of rebellion.
Another one appears on the desk and you chuck it over your shoulder. Mr. D sighs as he conjures another one, to which you do the same thing.
“I can do this all day, kid.”
“So can I, and you know if I do, we’ll be sitting here until I’m 40,” you say expectantly, tapping your fingers on the hardwood surface of his desk.
“What do you want?”
The keys to his car are a start, as well as extra pocket money—but there was something, or rather, someone missing to make sure this weekend goes as smoothly as possible.
Your smirk widens at your father, and he wonders when you’ve gotten good at playing his own game.
It’s like looking into a mirror but his worst nightmare manifested as a teenage girl.
—
There are only two things Luke can think about when he hears the sound of your laughter.
The first is that, unlike your angelic singing that could rival the Muses, your laughter takes after the sound of a maniac, an incredulous crescendo that only something curated by Hades in the deepest pits of Tartarus could produce. It was almost madness-inducing, and it went off in his brain like you were a siren (although he means the kind used for weather advisory, he too gets lured in by your laughter each time he hears it like he’s lost at sea).
Second, as he watches you storm down the lawn of the Big House, your anger brewing something comparable to a Category 5, he raises an eyebrow and thinks, well this ought to be good. Or entertaining at the very least.
“You,” you growl at him, guttural and sharp like the finger you jab into his chest, “we’re going on a quest!”
“Me?” Luke blurts, eyebrows furrowing at you.
A loud groan echoes through the grassy space between the house and the counselors as everyone looks up to see Mr. D dragging his hands down his face at the sheer thought of his daughter causing him more gray hairs.
“That’s not what we agreed on, kid!”
“If you want any of your children to come back to this hellhole in one piece I need backup!”
“There’s more of you?”
Both you and your dad glare at Luke now, like he’s interrupting a private conversation.
“Since when do you like asking for help, princess?”
Mr. D’s arms are crossed over his chest as he speaks to you. Though your height severely differs due to the wooden steps of the Big House, the air is palpable with fear only an Olympian could invoke, reminding the counselors that the man wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to humankind, is in fact inhuman. You, however, are standing tall in the freshly-cut grass in your combat boots with wrath that could rival Ares’ as you stare your father down like the rest of them wouldn’t get struck into the next lifetime due to your impertinence, as Annabeth loves to call it. She looks up at Luke, with her eyes conveying that she thinks you must be clinically insane, but he knows that already so he shrugs.
“I’m not asking for it, I’m demanding it. Besides, he’s like my ESA,” you say, then taking Luke by surprise as you grab him by the wrist and drag him off the front lawn. You think you can hear Beckendorf and Clarisse bite back chuckles.
“Someone tell Rodriguez he’s in charge of 11!” you yell into the air, and words of affirmation and good luck are muttered in response.
“Don’t I get a say in this, trouble?” Luke says playfully, tugging at your arm lightly but unresisting as you sigh and pull him along. Who in their right mind says no to a long weekend away from this place? Monsters and demigods be damned.
“No. Besides, they’re gonna need more luck than we do.”
“Liam, I don’t know why she trusts you, but if my daughter dies, I’ll make sure you’re next!” Mr. D yells out to your retreating figures, and all of the counselors turn to face him realizing that without you, well… that means he actually has to be in charge.
“So what’s the meeting supposed to be about, Annabelle?” Mr. D says, looking at Annabeth only knowing that she’s supposed to be the smart one—and the small girl sighs.
This is gonna be the longest weekend yet.
—
You’re speeding down I-95 with the windows down and the wind brushing through both of your hair. While Luke watches you from the passenger seat with the road signs blurring past his periphery, he also notices that it’s the first time in a while that he’s seen you this carefree. With both of you taking up counselor positions a few months ago, and your dad appointing you to be in charge of all of them (because why have a counselor for a population of one), there’s a lot about you that’s grown up in the two years you two have known each other. But what type of demigod gets to enjoy their childhood anyway, right? Luke can only remember bits and pieces of his.
“How do you even know where we’re going? I can barely read the signs,” he asks.
“Cool blessing from my stepmom. Ariadne’s chill. We talk sometimes and she likes that I keep D in check, so now I can never get lost,” you grin toothily, violet eyes flickering to meet his.
“Was it true what your dad said? That you trust me?”
His voice is a bit louder than it should be over the wind tunnel that blocks out the sound of the radio as the air whips in and out of the car.
“Well, I wouldn't say trust,” you drag out, leaning back against your seat with your eyes still on the road, “More like if I got abducted by a harpy, I think you could cut its wings off and give me a fighting chance at living.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Mason to come,” he mumbles, and you smirk.
“Who?”
His hands are clenched in his lap as a blush brushes his cheeks, windswept in the rays of the late summer sun.
“Your boyfriend. Wouldn’t he be a better companion?”
Something about the older son of Apollo always ground his gears. It was even worse that you both would sing Broadway musicals together during his sparring sessions. Your harmonious voices echoing from the amphitheater aside, the repetitive grating feeling in his stomach reminds him not to go see Hamilton if he ever makes it out to the city.
“He’s not…” you huff, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you think hard on what to say next, “He’s nothing serious.” You pull the sun visor down as you squint, tilting your head in case he says something else, but you hear nothing. Luke’s staring at your side profile, unable to hide his grin at the new information, biting his cheek.
“Besides, he’s a fucking terrible shot. And you’re supposed to be the best, so I’ve heard. Who else would I want on this trip with me?”
He chuckles at this lightly, your words bolstering his ego.
“So you’ve heard.”
And for a second, the sight of his smile distracts you enough that the car swerves a tiny bit closer to the median. You both ignore it and keep driving.
—-
Hypnos increases his hold on your senses as you finally take a break somewhere in North Carolina, taking refuge in a dimly lit corner of a gas station parking lot. The old car reeks of greasy fast food and all the sugar Luke could get his hands on at rest stops (it was really cute to see him indulge in more normal things like sweets instead of swordsmanship), and both of your seats are leaned back, but it’s hard to get comfortable after having your butt in the same seat for several hours.
You readjust yourself again, making the car shake a bit as you turn over to face Luke.
“What’s wrong?” he mumbles through closed eyes. His head’s banged against the window one too many times, and it was starting to get annoying.
“Sorry. Just can’t sleep. Thinking too hard.”
He sighs, reaching over to toss your pillow into the backseat, and as you sit up, he rips your blanket off of you too.
“Hey!”
You go silent when you watch him make a makeshift bed for you, turning back with tired eyes as he gestures, “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”
“I feel bad, Luke. You’re taller than me and your knees almost hit the dashboard.”
He rubs at his eyes, looking at you impatiently, and you know his body is calling for comfort too.
“I’ve slept in worse conditions, you gotta remember that, trouble.” The stories Annie used to tell you about the both of them sleeping on the streets pull at your heart, and as you crawl towards the back, you move before you think rationally–tugging on his arm.
“Come on over here.”
“You sure?”
“Before I change my mind, yeah.”
You both move around trying to find a place both of you can be comfortable in, first starting with your heads at opposite windows, legs tangling in the middle before he laughs a little too hard at your fumbling and you launch your pillow at his face. Awkwardly, you climb over his legs into his outstretched arms, slotting yourself against his side as he pulls your hair up from getting trapped between his shoulder and your back.
It’s deadly quiet, and Luke thinks if you could move any closer to him, you might hear his heart thundering in his chest.
“You smell like french fries,” you grumble into his sweater, and his laughter shakes you like an earthquake, uprooting the faint traces of sleep in your mind.
“At least the monsters won’t find us. Gonna be harder when the twins get here. A lot of demigod smell to ward off.”
You don’t answer, and he thinks you may have fallen asleep until he notices your hand playing with the frays of his sweater.
“Trouble?”
“They’re really little,” you mumble, so low that he barely hears the hesitance in your voice.
“The monsters? Yeah, I fucking ho–”
“Pollux and Castor. My…half-siblings, with really Greek names, and a mom that depends on me getting them to camp safely…” you trail off before your head jerks up to meet his eyes. It’s colder at night now, your bodies and the tiny throw blanket from your trunk providing ample heat even if his socked feet fight their way out from underneath.
“How old are they, nine?” He feels you nod against his chest before he continues, “I was nine when I left home.”
Your eyes get glassy at the thought of a smaller version of Luke, one who’s not all gangly legs and lean muscle—one much softer and innocent than the boy you lean your weight upon, running away from home to find a place he can belong.
“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”
He shrugs, the arm propped against the headrest wrapping around you and resting on your hip, tapping you to continue your previous thought.
“I don’t know how to do this, I guess. I’m ripping them from their home and I—”
“You’re not some kind of monster y’know? You put yourself down too much sometimes,” he sighs, and he watches the windows slowly start to fog up, “What don’t you know how to do?”
Ignoring his question, you change the subject hoping to talk about something lighter, and far less revealing to the thoughts inside your head.
“Do you remember all of that? Going to school and chalking up the sidewalks on the way home, hopscotch and ice cream trucks… I don’t want to take them away from that.”
Luke ponders, digging through his brain for anything happy from his childhood, but through the years his memories started to collect dust in the back of his mind.
“I don’t remember much.”
“Gods, I’m sorry…”
Mason had told you of your habit of putting your foot in your mouth. You dealt in extremes, giving too much or too little, always saying the wrong thing—and it was the reason why things didn’t go further with the son of Apollo. As well as with the daughter of Aphrodite you saw briefly that told you you didn’t know how to love, not if you didn’t know how to share yourself with others (yeah that one hurt a lot).
Sharing.
That’s what you’re hesitant about.
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now,” Luke mumbles, a beat of silence passing before he redirects the conversation like you did, “What don’t you know how to do, trouble?”
“How to share. Be a sibling. Someone likeable.”
Luke doesn’t mean to laugh at your expense, but he does, and you punch his stomach hard enough he gasps for air.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone likes you.”
“Everyone’s usually scared of me because of D, or hates me because I take dessert privileges and write them up,” you say matter-of-factly, staring out the window above his head at the gentle shine of the moon on his features. It’s a crime for him to look so soft under the low light, and you realize you’re staring when he calls your name.
“No, you don’t get it—you’re the most selfless person I know. You give up sleep to sing to kids before bed, conjure juice boxes so they don’t pass out during training—I’ve seen you carry a kid almost as tall as you across camp because they broke their ankle. You’ve got a lot of love in that twisted heart of yours. I’d know… I mean—I have to share a lot… I’m basically an expert.”
You blink at him as if seeing him in a new light, and you realize then why you picked him to go on this weekend quest with you. Your heartbeat slows despite the show of vulnerability in front of him, and you understand now that Luke makes you feel safe. Biting your lip to hold back a sigh, you decide to just unload the rest of your thoughts, knowing that you’re in the hands of someone who wants to hold the weight.
“I’m just used to being alone, I think. I mean who knows what we're like when we're alone but us, right? What a terrifying thought,” you deflect, and Luke closely watches the slope of your nose, down to the smoothness of your lips, unable to put the right words to how he’s feeling.
I know you, he thinks, and it's not as all bad as you make it seem.
“We’re never truly alone, y’know. Besides, even if you are, you still have me,” he says nonchalantly, and the warmth on your cheeks could generate enough heat to run the car for miles. Chuckling lightly as your eyes flutter closed, you know you need to rest before morning comes since you’re the only one between the two of you that can drive. You reckon you’ll teach Luke by the end of the year if he wants to.
“We’re getting pretty terrible at this enemies thing, Castellan,” you jest with nothing hard to back it, and a smile falls onto both of your lips.
“We were never really enemies, trouble. I just like getting on your nerves.”
Your laughs fall silent, settling into a comfortable silence, until his next words send you off into slumber as you listen.
“I remember my mom singing in the kitchen as she put peanut butter on my sandwiches. She'd act like she left the dishes out for me to wash, but let me lick the knife clean every time and I’d put too much soap and the sink would be filled with bubbles. I don't remember much else but that. Her kitchen. She smelled like…chamomile.”
A wandering hand pulls his free one into yours, holding it until sunrise.
—-
You push Pollux and Castor out the door before the sun rises after a short stay at their mother’s house, and as the engine heats up, you and Luke watch them say goodbye to her with the both of you thinking of last words with your own. The both of you ward off the hellhounds biting off at your heels for a few hours like how you deceived the police the day previous, a purple Zippo lighter in hand whose smoke grants temporary illusions wafting through the car, and it smells like grapes (thanks D!). The kids sleep most of the way, none the wiser and heavy with sleep and their emotions of leaving everything they’ve ever known. Your eyes flicker to their sleeping heads in the rearview mirror, ready to take them home.
Hours later, Luke decides to make you stop at a diner to get you a bit of rest, get actual food, and let the twins pee, and your head is bobbing slightly in front of your plate of food once he brings them back from the bathroom.
“You wash your hands?” you say tiredly, both Pollux and Castor shaking wet hands in your face in response, making you giggle before sipping at your coffee. Luke cut you off from Redbull yesterday, saying he was scared for your liver and saying you needed to drink something else for a bit. He bristles at the sight of you drinking more caffeine, and you smile as the mug touches your lips.
“You’re gonna kill yourself one day. At least your dad drinks Diet Coke.”
“Not by choice, though what a way to go!” you joke, and the twins giggle as the both of them gulp down root beer like it’s essential to their being. Luke sighs at the idea of you having two minions under your belt, who you’ll most definitely train to raise hell on Camp Half-Blood now that you’ve taken more of the administrative side of things.
“Is he your boyfriend, sissy?” Pollux, or maybe it’s Castor pipes up, swinging his legs under the table and you smile at the sound of the nickname, noticing the dimple in his cheek. Luke chokes on his burger, coughing until you elbow him.
“He’s more of my ESA,” you remark, and he still doesn’t know what that is, so he raises an eyebrow like your brothers do as they peer up at you from across the table.
“What’s an ESA?” Castor, you realize, who has no dimples, spits out behind munches of a pickle.
“Luke’s my emotional support animal.”
He eats the rest of your fries despite your confidence in that response, grumbling exactly how a resistant dog would.
As you’re paying the bill, a large shadow looms over the sunny disposition of everyone at your table—and then Luke shouts for everyone to cover their eyes. Glass shatters over you, revealing a hellhound the size of a minivan, and it pounces toward the twins, large teeth bared at their throats. Before Luke can pull his sword out, you whistle sharply and the sound whizzes through the air like a bullet as you toss the Zippo lighter at him as he’s pushing the kids to the car. Though he’s reluctant to lose sight of you, he wards them with an illusion, locking the doors despite their cries and he runs headfirst back into battle, you with your thyrsus and him with his sword, back to back.
“They okay?” you heave, jabbing at the red-eyed canine between the eyes as Luke pulls around to slash it across the neck, coming out of the tussle unscathed as you both watch it keel over at your feet into golden dust minutes later.
“Yeah. Are you?”
Though you originally found it funny, Luke does perform his job well, getting you to calm down as he holds you to his chest until you can breathe normally again.
“Mhm. Just scared me.”
The two of you run out of the destroyed diner and into the warded-off car before the police show up hand in hand as you escape without detection. As he falls asleep, Castor dreams that you two are Bonnie and Clyde like in an old Western movie he was definitely not old enough to watch.
—-
You’re finally back on the Island now, only an hour away from Montauk and Luke is getting restless in the passenger seat. He pulls apples out of his backpack, wiping them off with his shirt as you sing along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.
And maybe someday when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about…. Foolish one… you hum, tapping the wheel to fight off your exhaustion.
Pollux and Castor are using their fingers to pretend to hop over obstacles in the smudged windows, babbling about something they did in class last week. The son of Hermes pulls out a pocketknife he nicked from a gas station this morning as he starts to cut the apples into pieces, putting some into a ziploc bag for the boys to share, and you smile at him, wistful at your trip nearing its finish line. If you weren’t enemies before this like he said, it’s crazy to consider him your closest friend. But he is, isn’t he?
His knuckles nudge yours over the console, pressing an apple slice into your palm.
“You know, Castellan, you’re sweet when you want to be. Shame you and that sister of Annie’s didn’t work out.”
Luke scoffs at the reminder of his ex, slicing another piece off for you to eat. She did say he had wandering eyes…always looking for you. He’s not going to admit that though.
“I just know you like your apples cut. Saw you battling it out with a butter knife last week. Couldn’t help but notice,” he says lowly like it’s normal for people to be that considerate about others, normal for him to care about you like that, a constant push and pull between you two.
“Hurts my teeth,” you mutter, and Luke chortles like you’ve told him something life-changing. Your hand bumps into his again, feeling nothing but his calloused fingers, and when you look up his cheek protrudes with the last slice.
“Tax,” he winks, and you’re delirious with this feeling that only he can bring you, almost comparable to being high.
The popstar’s voice continues to trill in the background, with my head in my hands, saying “How could I not see the signs?”
You both don’t realize you’ve stopped singing until Pollux pipes up asking for you to play Fireball by Mr. 305 himself.
—-
The car finally pulls into the driveway of the forest path and you’re all greeted by the campers holding blazing lanterns. Chiron, your father, and the nymphs are waving as the twins marvel at the fairy lights strung up along the way for a warm welcome.
“You’re alive,” your dad remarks, and this time he doesn’t say it in jest, sounding more relieved.
“I was in good hands,” you affirm, looking up at Luke amongst the noise of your cheering friends and the feeling that comes with calling this place home.
The boys are tucked in at your side, shyly looking at the crowd, Pollux holding your hand while Castor holds onto Luke’s, and Chiron calls your attention.
“I know you didn’t get your official announcement,” he starts, and you laugh at that, remembering the bubbles in the lake.
“Because I pulled a fast one on D.”
“Nonetheless, I would love for you to get recognized for your efforts. Dionysus. Storyteller, Herald of Chaos,” he continues by announcing your name, and then,” Pollux, and Castor– children of the grapevine, the God of Wine!”
The campers are kneeling and you look at Luke, who’s smiling from the ground beside you.
“Take a picture, trouble, it’ll last longer.”
“My children are home safe. And thank you, Castellan, for being a formidable companion. My deepest appreciation.” Mr. D sounds serious for once, pulling Luke up as he nods in respect.
It’s a crazy feeling to finally feel at home though you’ve been here for two years now. But you remind yourself quickly of why that is when you see Luke carrying Pollux on his shoulders as Castor latches onto his legs.
“You know, your family is a nightmare. You two hellions will fit right in,” he grins.
You can’t help but agree.
—
“I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes. I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed.” -Nizar Qabbani
ask to be added to general/luke taglists!
luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings
#luke castellan x dionysus!reader#luke castellan x reader fanfic#luke castellan x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo x reader#luke castellan fluff#made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse#thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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So he might have, at some point, tried to figure out an OC for Mobei-jun to ship w fuck. Dude was so perfect, it was a shame his dump truck ass and sequoia thighs remained unembraced. (Also the whole "he's so mysterious and never opens up and unveils his deep thoughts and tender feelings except for me" fantasy but never mind all that.)
He'd gone exactly as far as 'Meeting: why tf would he notice anyone. Enemies to lovers? No wait hed kill them straight away. Dashing rescue? Why does he need a rescue he's too cool and basically untrappable anyway, what are they rescuing him from socializing with his cousins lmao???' on his notes before giving up on making it realistic. The next scribble was 'cuz i said so ok next'.
There had been no 'next'. His battery had died and when he managed to get home and get his laptop plugged in it was time for another word vomit on the topic of Bing-ge's meat truncheon.
[Secret side-quest unlocked: Easter egg hunt! 1/536 discovered. Keep going!]
[Category: "is it a headcanon if you didn't think it up with your upper head?" 1/413]
--
1.8k, oneshot, mostly crack.
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Sagau draft
This is just a snippet of something that I wrote a couple of months ago, and I just want to know if anybody wants me to write more. I had a lot of fun writing it. Anyway, let me know what you think.
‘Well, isn’t this ironic?’ You think to yourself. You had just been reading SAGAU fanfics, (cause lets be honest, who wouldn’t want to be an ultimate creator god?) and now you find yourself running away from angry NPCs.
You gasped when you felt cold pain on your back. One of the knights had caught up to you and hit you with his sword. Choking from the sudden agony, you felt the adrenaline kick in and ran faster. You were coming up on the top of Starsnatch Cliff, and if only you could just jump into the ocean below, you could get away.
You heard them shout something at the same time that something popped up in your line of sight. You had no time to look at it though, and you couldn’t hear what they said. Your breathing was too loud to hear anything but your lungs working overtime.
There, THERE, THERE.
Without hesitation, you jump. The ocean was fast approaching, and you prayed that you would be able to make it out of this alive. If you entered wrong, it would be like landing on concrete from this height.
Feet first, you dropped into the calm waters.
You broke the surface with a gasp and began swimming to shore, laying on the sand in exhaustion.
“I can’t b-believe that fucking worked.” You let out a short, hysterical giggle before what looked like a black rectangle appeared in the corner of your eye. “What now?” You groaned. Today had been a long day already, and you had only been awake for an hour at most.
When you concentrated on it, it filled your vision.
“Welcome to Teyvat! As the creator of this version of Teyvat, your leveling path will be slightly different to the characters you have come to know. I am your handy assistant, Tutor, who will help you accomplish your ascension.”
“Uh… ok. At this point, I don’t think anything can shock me.” A little red dot appeared at the top of the rectangle, and a little arrow appeared on the right. You lifted your hand and touched it, a new message popping up.
“Quest one: Increase all elemental and physical resistances.”
“Hint: To increase resistances, you must experience the elements.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Your eyes shifted over to a new tab that came into existence after you finished reading. Touching it took you to a screen with a lot of stats.
Max HP: 3,027
ATK: 89
DEF: 94
Elemental Mastery: 0
Max Stamina: 240
A new message popped up on the message screen. You quickly switch back over.
“ +1% Physical Resistance.
Total Physical Resistance: 1%”
You stare in disbelief. You had no idea what you could have done that you give you any sort of resistance. It wasn’t until your wound started to throb that you put the pieces together. “Are you fucking kidding me.”
“I have to literally get attacked with every element to complete this quest?”
“Correct.” The message came through on the screen before disappearing.
“So you can answer my questions.”
“Within reason. That is why I am called Tutor. I am created by the system to help the chosen players.”
“So there are others like me?”
“Correct. There were 1,000 players chosen to take this path.”
“Would you like to see your current talents?”
“Um, yeah. Sure.” A new tab appeared, and you moved over to that screen.
Resurrection: In case of death, Player will resurrect within 24 hours in a safe location.
Blessing of nature: Taking damage will increase resistance to that type of damage permanently.
“There’s only two.”
“Indeed. As you grow and ascend, you will receive more.”
“There is a chest 127 feet to your left that contains a dull blade. Please retrieve it to complete your quest.”
You blink and the screen disappears. You can see a little black dot in the corner of your eye. You quickly figured out that focusing on that dot opened the screen, and looking elsewhere closed it.
“Well, let’s get to it then, shall we?” You couldn’t say that you were necessarily excited about the prospect of intentionally being attacked, but if it helped you out, then it helped, end of story.
In the distance, you could see a little wooden chest. Upon opening, it did contain a sword, along with a couple of miscellaneous items.
“There they are!”
You whipped your head around to see a group of knights and…
“Oh shit.”
The acting grandmaster. Well, you were screwed. Might as well see if Resurrection worked like it was supposed to.
Standing your ground, you watched warily as they approached you. Your back was still hurting you, but you tried not to let it show.
“Imposter.” Jean spoke with authority. “Stand down and come with us peacefully.”
‘I have to get her to attack me.’ You thought and put on an arrogant air.
“And why would I do that, exactly? Have I committed a crime?”
Jean didn’t waver, or show much emotion other than the stern animosity on her face. “You are being charged with the heresy of impersonating our creator.”
“That’s a little bit overplayed, don’t you think?”
You swore that you had read so many SAGAU fics that you could quote every reason they had for killing you before they could say them.
“What?” Jean’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
“I mean, do you really think that it’s my fault that I just so happened to get this exact face? You should blame my parents for being horny and conceiving me.”
Her mouth dropped open is shock and disgust. “Watch what you say, imposter.”
“Hey Jean, guess what?”
She glared at you.
“Your creator must be an insecure little bitch to have you guys kill anyone who looks like them.”
She moved faster than you thought she would. One second she was standing ten feet away. The next second, she was right in front of you, sword glowing teal and murder in her eyes.
‘Oh shit.’
A line of pure anemo energy slashed across your abdomen and chest, painting the sand red and drawing a scream of pain from your lips.
“+1% Anemo Resistance.
Total Anemo Resistance: 1%”
Searing pain unlike anything you had ever before. Distantly, you thought ‘Oh come on. Only one percent?’
“Is that all you got?” You grinned through the pain. She lifted her sword and swiped it across your face. Everything went black. She must have gotten your eyes. “C-come on, Jean. Really go at it.”
Sharp pain in your shoulder and your arm went dead.
“Physical Resistance +1%” “Physical Resistance +1%” “+1% Anemo Resistance. “Physical Resistance +1%” “Physical Resistance +1%” “+1% Anemo Resistance. “Physical Resistance +1%” “Physical Resistance +1%” “Physical Resistance +1%” “+1% Anemo Resistance. “Physical Resistance +1%” “Physical Resistance +1%”
“Total Physical Resistance: 10%”
“Total Anemo Resistance: 4%”
Resurrection activated
23hrs 55secs
………
10secs
You shot up into a sitting position, gasping for air and clawing at your chest. Your eyes darted around you, zeroing in on the weak light pouring into the cave you woke up in. You sighed in relief and flopped back down, accidentally hitting your head on a pebble. “Ow, What the fuck?”
“Geo Resistance +1%
Total Geo Resistance 1%”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You rubbed the back of your head and groaned. The humor of it wasn’t lost on you though, and you let out a giggle. “Hey Tutor?” The message box opened.
“How can I help you, Player?”
“If I sit under a waterfall, will that give me hydro resistance?”
“Yes, the flow of hydro energy would suffice to give you resistance. Note: The rate of resistance gain would be slower than if you were hit with pure hydro energy.”
“Thank you.” The message box disappeared. It was time to find out where you were and what to do next. Crawling from the little cave, you struggled to stand. Your legs were stiff and wobbly. Craggy cliffs and clouds filled your view. “Liyue, huh? I wonder who I’ll pick a fight with next?”
It took about two days to reach Liyue Harbor, but before you entered the city, you checked your screen.
Total Pyro Resistance: 0%
Total Hydro Resistance: 3%
Total Electro Resistance: 0%
Total Cryo Resistance: 0%
Total Dendro Resistance: 1%
Total Geo Resistance: 4%
Total Anemo Resistance: 11%
Total Physical Resistance: 15%
You had obviously run into some monsters on the way to the harbor, and that had increased your resistances. Not much, but at least if you ever ran into Xiao, it would hurt a bit less when he beat the shit out of you. Come to think of it, that seemed like a very likely possibility while being here.
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i think its time for me to come back to my origins:
shitty spiderbit villain isekai au
Cw suicide idealization? Kinda? Nothing too realistic or explicit but there is a little bit
First, there's Cellbit, the 'villain'
-Was tricked by Mike into watching shitty fantasy harem anime #1413 (Mike doesn't like this type of anime, but he does like to see Cellbit suffering)
-And suffer he did, he was almost pulling his hair out when the first episode ended, and really did it when the opening spoiled the little mystery there was in the show
-He went to sleep balding mad and woke up in the body of 5 years old Farael, the prince of Embersland Kingdom, brother of Bagriela whom he is fighting for the crown
-There's also this voice in his head telling him that he needs to follow the plot and shit and he's just like- what the fuck do you even mean by this, I wanna out, get me the fuck outta here
-'Follow the plot and it may be considered to send you back', it says, and Cellbit obviously argues with it because 'Don't fuck with me like that, get me out of here right now' and 'No sorry can't do', 'What I have to do to go back? Send me back right now' and it's this back and forth until the system is tired enough to just say 'Die by the hero's blade and we'll send you back' and Cellbit's like 'Ok fine'
-It's not really fine because it will take at least two decades before he will be able to be killed by the hero, but it's something more concrete than a simple possibility so he will take it
-So he starts preparing to be a villain, quite successfully if you may allow him. And the worst part is that he really ends up as a 'good' villain, winning the crown from Bagi, organizing an army, making evil plans full of twists and turns, neglecting the people, all in all he is a decent villain for a bellow average harem anime
-(Btw, there are some reason why a 'normal' person from the real world ends up being so good at being evil, that includes: he's already something of a freak, he thinks this is just a shitty harem anime, he never had any contact with other people that aren't nobility or servants except for a single instance. He really wants to go back, he thinks nothing in this world matters, and it's part of his bucket list so...)
And then there's Roier, the 'hero'
-He's just a peasant boy living in a frontier town, abandoned by his father, mother died during childbirth, raised by his old abuelo
-He does odd jobs around town and helps in the adventurers guild, going in a small quest here and there, nothing too big despite him being quite good with a sword
-That is, until Bagis busts into the guild asking for help to defeat her brother before he does even worse than he already did, of course for a handsome reward
-But everyone there knows how much of a tyrant King Farael is, and how they'll end up with their salted heads hung in the public square if they do anything against him so no one accepts it
-Roier comes in late, and Bagi begs for him to help her... he really doesn't want to, but money's tight and he really needs it because abuelo has been getting worse recently and there's not a lot else he can do (Saving the kingdom is just a bonus for him)
-And so they go out on this quest, they recruit some other people during the way (In the original anime they're all woman and part of his 'harem') and plan how to end King Farael's reign of terror once and for all
-Syke! Cellbit kidnaps Roier when they're near the capital and brings him to a 'dinner' to monologue to him about his evil plans (It's to motivate Roier to really kill him, he can't be imprisoned or exiled, he has to be killed)
-Anyways they get a little frisky and end up in a knife fight where Roier cuts Cellbit's mask in half and oh shit! This guy, tyrant King Farael is Roier's first crush! He knows he is, his blue eyes are the same as he remembers!
-The rescue party arrives at the castle and saves Roier, while he is slightly confused about the villain
-It's not even about the puppy crush he had on him, even if it did help him think about the situation from a slightly different angle, it's more like how his evil plan now sounds like a very elaborated suicide attempt
-Well, if this is what the villain wants, then he won't let him have it!
-Meanwhile Cellbit is surprised Roier remembers him, but is otherwise happy because he thinks now Roier has even more reasons to kill him
... and that's all I have until now
#qsmp#spiderbit#guapoduo#shirowritezs#im not one to beg but if you liked it please reblog it? or at the very least like it?
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Hi again Bee.
Thank you for lending an ear to listen even if I just kinda showed up. I really appreciate it. I've actually been reading through some of your other stories and they're very good (I adore the fae works!).
When it comes to Wilbur, I'm just. Very disappointed and upset. Of course I support Shubble and am glad she spoke out, it's very important and I'm glad that it's encouraged others to come forward with their own stories of abuse at the hands of large creators. At the same time though part of me wishes she hadn't said anything, so I could have continued as I was, in blissful ignorance, even if I feel really guilty for thinking like that.
It just saddens me that someone I looked up to so much ended up being this horrible person. It makes me worried that I too am bad, that somehow he has imprinted his awfulness unto me. I used to be horrible too. I like to think I've grown as a person, I was only a kid, but have I? Or was being drawn to Wilbur a sign? Like attracting like?
Y'know, I used to say that my hair style goals were how Wilbur's hair is, and recently I got a haircut. When I took a shower earlier it ended up floofing up in a similar way to his. I don't know how to feel about that. Maybe I should style it differently, even though I like the floof. I don't want to be even a little reminiscent of an abuser.
I am reminiscent of him though, in ways I can't change. I used to feel so seen by him, we're both song writers, and hypochondriacs, and I wanted to be him so badly I would cry. I would cry because he was everything I desperately craved to be as an insecure transmasc, an attractive guy with a beautiful voice and an amazing life. And now he's horrible, and probably always has been, and all of my memories of him are tainted.
I hate that I can't listen to Lovejoy anymore. It feels unfair to the other band members. It isn't their fault Wilbur is awful, and yet I'm taking away a source of their income. I know I'm taking away from Wilbur too, but he's only one person out of the group. Maybe that's just me giving an excuse so that I won't have to stop enjoying their music. It doesn't matter, I can't stomach listening to them anymore anyways.
I keep getting songs from YCGMA stuck in my head. It's like now that I can't listen to it anymore my brain has decided to fuck with me by making me listen to it anyways. I can't even justify listening to that album, that's just Wilbur's music. I was going to cover a song from that album for fun. Now I can't.
Is it bad I still find comfort in Wilbur as a character? C!Tommy is my favorite, but C!Wilbur is almost always a huge part of any C!Tommy story and I love C!Wilbur stories too. I know C! ≠ CC! but I just. It's complicated.
Idek why I'm this upset. I haven't been an avid watcher of anyone in the DSMP in at least over a year. If anything this whole thing has brought me back into the fandom more than I have been in ages. I feel bad about that, but also this situation has introduced me to people like Aimsey, whose content I'm seeing more of and I find myself enjoying.
I've also found more great DSMP fics lately in my quest to binge read them before the mass deletions start. Is it bad to find good things in a bad situation?
I'm sorry for the lack of put togetherness and the length of this ask. I promise I'm usually more coherent and to the point.
-Tech (just call me Tech like a name, "tech anon" feels weird heh)
hey tech, sorry for a bit of a late reply I've been busy the past few days
(sorry about the 'tech anon' thing, it's just a habit since that's how I refer to most of my anons. I'm going to still tag your ask as tech anon though just for my tagging system if that's okay)
I'm so glad you like the fae stories!! I'm still so proud of both of those looking back on them
anyway, yeah, I get that. I get the guilty wish that none of this had ever come out so you could just continue to go on in blissful ignorance. when someone learns something very upsetting, it's only natural to feel like you wish you never learned that. you don't need to feel guilty for that. you're not a bad person for your emotional reactions to things. your actions are what matters.
also, you are in no way a bad person because you were drawn to wilbur's content. the persona wilbur put on for the internet was not representative of who he actually was. you were drawn to the facade. an illusion of the person wilbur could've been, if he actually practiced the things he preached. you said you used to be a bad person, but you've changed. the fact that you are worried at all that you might still be bad shows a level of self-awareness and concern that wilbur apparently did not have. because wilbur was aware he was a bad person and treated the people around him terribly, but he didn't care to try and be better. as long as you're trying to be better, you're already leagues ahead of him.
also, regarding the hair, the floofy fringe is an incredibly common haircut. that is not exclusive to wilbur soot. you do not look like him if your hair does the floof similarly to his, it just makes you look like thousands of other dudes with fluffy fringe.
the day after shelby first streamed I had an MSR song stuck in my head and I hated it so much. it really sucks. you just have to try and drown it out with other music
it's not hypocritical at all to still find comfort in c!wilbur. I know it's complicated, and there's so much discussion I could get into as to why it's so complicated, but we can all separate the guy and the character in our heads. there's no reason to feel guilty about that. and there's also nothing bad about finding good in this situation. I think it's really sweet that you've found so many great fics in this time and I'm so glad you've been getting comfort from them. you're appreciating the authors hard work and that's a good thing! you don't need to feel bad about that
I hope you're doing okay tech
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Hi! Was wondering if I could request headcanons about what It'd be like to be best friends with either Percy Jackson or Leo Valdez? If possible gn or m reader, thank you!
BEING THEIR BEST FRIEND - PERCY JACKSON AND LEO VALDEZ
ੈ✩‧₊˚ FANDOM: riordanverse
ੈ✩‧₊˚ FORMAT: headcanon
ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: swearing, angst because i can’t help myself, ttc spoilers, tlo spoilers, tlh spoilers, moa spoilers, hoh spoilers, boo spoilers, toa spoilers
masterlist || riordanverse masterlist || navigation
୨⎯ percy jackson⎯୧
oh my
so you guys probably met at camp half blood during his first year
he was NOT having a good day and you just came and sat beside him and started rambling about random shit
and he was like “okay….”
after that you randomly came up and started talking to eachother
and soon you were inseparable
you get invited on quests with him!!
they let you come as a 4th person for emotional support
he forces you to eat blue food
once you meet sally blue food is all you eat
speaking of sally she loves you
istg she’s atleast once referred to you as her other child
she’s really glad you came up to percy and started rambling about anything and everything because now he has lots of friends
do NOT blame yourself for what happened to bianca and zoë, even if it WAS your fault, or he will shove blue pancakes down your throat until you agree that it wasn’t your fault
also i have a headcanon that bianca and percy were best friends so you three have your own little trio until she dies
if you got hurt during the battle of manhattan (in the first series) my guy would be going insane
demanding to know what happened
anyway then he goes missing and now your going insane trying to figure out what happened
while he’s gone you become good friends with leo and come with them on their quest as a distraction to the fear you feel every minute of everyday of not knowing if your best friend is okay
when you guys find him you laugh while annabeth judo flips him
then judo flip him yourself
you and annabeth are a platonic power couple
BONUS 1:
Y/N, in a high voice, holding barbie: hey ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career!
Percy, in a deep voice, holding ken: nonsense, barbie. you’re staying home and having my kids
Annabeth: what the fuck are you guys doing?
Y/N: playing systemic oppression
i feel like if you’re part of the 7 he’d be a bit annoyed because he knows being part of a prophecy like that means you’re gonna get hurt a lot
but like he can’t stop you from coming along because you’re in a prophecy
it’s impossible (probably)
THE SLEEPLESS NIGHTS WHEN HE FALLS INTO TARTARUS WITH ANNABETH
YOUR BSF COULD BE DEAD
HOW ARE YOU EXPECTED NOT TO PANIC
when they get out okay you and him go for like a night in the city to catch up cause you’ve both been busy
it was… chaotic
so for dramatic affect let’s say gaea destroyed your house so you have no place to stay and he’s like “you can live with me!!!”
you do then lester shows up and you terrify him with your… well your everything basically
if percabeth has kids your probably the wine aunt/uncle/relative
you go to the same high school
and take almost all the same classes
HE WILL NEVER TAKE MATH OR ENGLISH EVER AGAIN
you randomly storm into eachothers classes to tell eachother the most random things
“PERCY LOOK I FOUND A FROG”
“THATS SO COOL WHATS ITS NAME”
the chaos that you two would cause accidentally
you buy recorders together and annoy EVERYONE
annabeth breaks them eventually
in conclusion: being percys best friend is: chaotic, fun, and also dangerous. he’s protective but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing because like he’d fight for you if anything were to happen
10/10 best friend would recommend
BONUS 2:
Percy: it’s dark in here
Y/N: don’t worry i got this
Y/N: *stomps feet*
Y/N: *sketchers light up*
୨⎯ leo valdez ⎯୧
for my own sake i’m gonna say you met at the boarding school
you, jason, leo, and piper were all VERYYYY good friends
you had your own little squad
you were closest with leo though because of your energy matching
anyway when the whole thing at the grand canyon happens you two are tryna work together to do whatever you can
spoiler warning: IT DIDNT WORK
you tried okay
when the chariot crashes at chb you’re both like “wtf”
you probably pointed out the thing above his head
when he learns he can do fire powers you guys have fires every week where you make s’mores and yell at people from afar
funniest duo
probably forbids you to do random stuff
if you’re part of the 7 hes probably happy because:
a) HES GOING ON A QUEST WITH HIS BESTFRIEND
b) you can do your pranks together and make everyone angry at you
so help me god if you fall into tartarus with percy and annabeth he will jump in after you
no he tries but jason doesn’t let him
if you don’t fall in but are restless and worried after he’ll stay by you the whole time
even though your kinda freaking him out he’s not gonna leave you like this
when they come back alright hes so happy to see your tense shoulders relax and you fall asleep easily that night
OH ALSO PLATONIC FLIRTING
you’d probably propose at restaurants to get free food
or if someone’s bothering you or him the other will come and flirt and act like your/his partner to scare them away
i’m pretty sure leo has canonically read the hunger games so he rants to you about it while sobbing his eyes out
WHEN HE HAS TO DIE IN BOO HE AVOIDS YOU FOR AWHILE AS TO NOT GET ATTACHED TO YOU FURTHER
when you find out what’s he’s gonna do it’s too late and he’s already gone 😨😨
another 6 restless months
you lose hope then your sibling comes in and says “HES BACK”
you judo flip his ass so hard
then you meet calypso and become friends with her too
she’s like you and leo’s gaurdian
BONUS 1:
*Y/N and Leo sitting together in jail*
Leo: so who should we call
Y/N: i’d call calypso but i feel safer in jail
comforting eachother after jason dies
okay back to the not sad stuff
BONUS 2:
Y/N: *holding perfume bottle* is this whiskey or perfume?
Leo: *chugs entire bottle*
Leo: it’s perfume
#mars writing 🧈#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians#heroes of olympus#percy jackson x reader#leo valdez x reader#heroes of olympus x reader#leo valdez#percy jackson
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Any thoughts you’d like to share on the other origins characters? Anything you like about them :)
Again, haven't played the game so these are my general thoughts based on a few romance compilations, YouTube Shorts, and memes. If anybody would like to rectify this, please Venmo me $500 so I can buy a PS5.
Shadowheart
Admittedly don't know that much about her other than the emos love her and she follows a goddess of loss. Looks like her arc is all about questioning institutions and her god, which I think is very sexy of her. If anybody has a quest line compilation video to recommend so I can see her whole story, please send it my way.
Lae'zel
The other origin character I admittedly don't know that much about. Still love an arc about questioning the system she was raised in and her god. Again, very sexy of her. Fish out of water stories are some of my favorites. Pair that with a hardened character learning to enjoy the gentler things in the world, and you've got yourself a banger. I should really look up her quest line at some point to get a full view of it.
Karlach
Best girl. Strong muscles, soft heart. I want her to be my best friend IRL. She deserves better and if there is any way to get a better ending that allows her to stay in Faerun, the studio needs to get on that ASAP. In the meantime, I'm going to stay in the part of the internet that says she's fine don't worry about it. I'm hugging her and there is nothing you can do about it.
Wyll
Sweet boy. A perfect boy who did nothing wrong ever. Yeah, yeah, sold his soul to a devil, but he had a good reason. Plus, he was seventeen. Nobody should let a seventeen year old make any decisions ever. I do need to find a good romance compilation. He needs more love. His friendship with Karlach is everything to me.
Gale
People really need to stop complaining about this man. I see too many being ragging on about how he's not over his ex and keeps bringing her up. "With you I forget my goddess?" That isn't him saying with you he forgets his ex, he's saying with you he forgets his god. How are we all not collectively swooning? And he's a nerd who will info dump about his passions? Sign me the fuck up. His comfy pjs and burnt out gifted kid swagger has bewitched me body and soul.
Astarion
Guys, you've seen my blog. I'm obsessed with him.
The moment I saw this asshole pop up on my dash, I knew I was going to love him. He was the reason I decided to finally look up a romance compilation once I realized my computer was too old to let me run the game. He's my type to the point of parody. Literally anybody who knows me, knows this guy would end up being my favorite.
His arc is about bodily autonomy and trauma. He's allowed to not be the perfect victim. He's angry and violent. He's selfish and terrified. And he is, sadly, one of the few characters who, as part of his arc, realizes he can say no to sex and he can be loved without it.
My point is, it should be no surprise to anybody that the ace community loves this man, and anybody complaining about it should shut up.
If you want to write your sexy Astarion fanfic, there is nothing stopping you. More power to you. I've seen the graveyard scene too. I recognize that regaining his autonomy and being able to have sex with somebody he cares about is part of the healing process.
At the same time, if writers want to interpret his arc is him realizing he never wants to have sex again, and that being okay; let them. We need this. There are so few characters like him out there.
At some point I do want to write an hour long video essay about his arc and how it's resonated with the ace community specifically.
Anyway, those are my general thoughts. I feel like I just swung a bat at a hornet's nest with that last bit, but what's life without a little danger?
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#shadowheart#lae'zel#karlach#wyll#gale#astarion#gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios#astarion ancunin#wyll ravengard#karlach cliffgate
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I’m just gonna take a second to ramble abt my predictions/theories or just shit I would find funny abt the sun and the star <3
Will is gonna Med Student his way around the cosmic horror that is Tartarus being the body of an ancient deity
Like “oh shit if we’re inside his body does that make the monsters we’re fighting like, his immune system? Since we’re like unknown pathogen?” or “Human bodies r so weird already of course primordial god bodies would be fucked up n weird too.”
And Nico’s like what the FUCK how are you so CALM ABOUT THIS
The reason: Will had a crisis abt how he would feel and react if he was in the Magic School Bus as a kid. Ms Frizzle prepared him for these cosmic horrors.
We all know abt the Orpheus and Eurydice parallel but LISTEN LISTEN I swear I have a fresh take on it
Nico as Orpheus bc he has to put his whole entire trust in Will. He has to believe that he won’t be abandoned again. That someone loves him enough to fight tooth and nail to stay with him. He has to fight against all the trauma he’s gone through and the walls he’s built up to expose his heart and hold on to faith that he won’t be hurt again.
It’s raw proof of the changes and healing he’s gone through!! Being able to be vulnerable enough to openly love, care, and trust again despite all the risks!!
Will as Eurydice bc he needs to know that Nico genuinely deeply cares abt him in the same way he does for him. He’s spent this whole time putting everyone first despite his own emotions and feelings, he needs someone to put him first. Make him a priority, prove that he’s important.
He’s been on the sidelines this whole time. Compared to the rest of the demigods we’ve followed Will is very easily overshadowed, and I think it’s easy for Will to have developed some kind of mindset where he thinks everyone else’s lives and wellbeing is more important than his own.
Bc we always see Will taking care of other people, when have we seen someone take care of him in the same way? Having someone fight to protect just him?
This goes especially hard if it’s some kind of self-sacrifice situation that leads to the Orpheus and Eurydice parallel to begin with
This goes DOUBLY HARD if we throw in the Apollo cabin curse, where Will expected he was going to die from the start like all his siblings before him, but he went anyways bc he’d rather sacrifice himself than let Nico face Tartarus alone again
Idk both Nico and Will struggle with abandonment issues and self worth, but I feel this arrangement is the strongest and most emotionally impactful
I also rlly like the idea that Nico and Will are supposed to represent Balance and Unity vs Chaos and the Abyss
And that’s why the quest is just the two of them!
You can split them apart but ultimately they will always fight to find their way back together again, it’s the natural balance of the universe
I think it would be rlly cute if they reunite at the climax after being split for a portion of the quest and they get to have the cliche reunion kiss our love gives us the power to prevail type moment
A real #lovewins kinda situation
I also think it would be funny bc it would pretty much be gay ppl kissing demolishes the primordial deity of the abyss
I have a couple more but I didn’t wanna make this post too wildly long, but I’ll keep going if ppl want me too!
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quiz: tragic play character — yiuno.
Misunderstood Villain.
Prepare for an onslaught of both the most dehumanizing and hateful takes, and flood of thirst comments. You’re chronically misunderstood; whether or not you’re actually evil is debatable. You may be acting out for revenge, to defend someone you love, or even just to protect yourself—you’re a pretty jaded person. You don’t trust or even really like most people—perhaps you did, at one point, but that part of you is gone, and you don’t go a single day without grieving it.
You think a lot about what your life could have been. You’re stuck in the past—you’re angry and maybe you don’t even want to be, but this is the only way you can see to survive. You’re open, but less in a trusting way and more like a wound. You don’t like to let people see you, but the hurt spills out of you before you can stop it. You’re impulsive, even as you try hard to plan and prepare.
Maybe someday your side of the story will finally be heard. Until then, you can convince yourself that being hated is safer anyway.
(take the quiz here)
Oh, wow. What an eerily accurate result.
Yiuno embodies many aspects of an anti-hero: be it common tropes (ex. Dark and Troubled Past), or tip the scales further into extremity (ex. Psycho for Hire and Femme Fatale), it’s really fun working on his characterization… as much as I struggle to comprehend his complex, multilayered nature.
I dunno if people see him as a misunderstood villain—guaranteed, this guy literally kills for a living, and he was a war criminal at one point (as a major participant during the Magi War in the Fifth Astral Era). His unique physical condition has twisted his perception of time, like he’s stuck in a psychological limbo akin to a living hell, for eternity. While the idea of eternal life has been explored many times in the game (both the MSQ and mostly the ARR side-quests), to an immortal like Yiuno, only death can bring him true peace.
Oh wait, sounds like Emet-Selch much? Not really—for one, Yiuno does not crave for the past (in fact, he wished he could erase it and start over again), and he doesn’t believe in utopia. While Emet tried to justify his genocidal acts as a “necessary ritual” to reclaim his lost paradise, Yiuno doesn’t even bother to sugar coat the war crimes he’d committed. Though Emet (in Shadowbringers, not Endwalker) did humor the idea of giving the current world a chance as he observed how WoL and the Scions tried to save the First, he never stopped to show outright contempt for the Sundered, calling them lesser beings unworthy of existing. Yiuno, however, never harbors any form of racism or social prejudice towards anyone—on one hand, he sees people as, well, just people; on the other hand, he may appear to be rather apathetic and detached (and hence why he could kill people as willingly as Emet, but for different reasons).
It also didn’t help that his childhood was equally fucked up. Born into a clan with an unconventional (and controversial) family system and societal rules, Yiuno grew up pretending to be a girl for many years just so that he could stay together with his twin sister for as long as possible. This twisted upbringing gave him a rather unique outlook to gender and sexuality—while he identify himself as biologically male and is very much aroace, mentally he feels disconnected and sees them as mere labels. It’s hard for me to explain in a way that people can understand, without radical folks jumping the gun and dissing me about “misrepresentation” and stuff, so I won’t go into details here. (If you want to know more, feel free to ask me in DMs!)
I guess the last line rings true—perhaps it’s easier to hate him for no reason at all. I mean, unless it’s his soulmate Y’shtola or the energetic curious child Sora, very few people have the patience and time to learn more about a walking history like Yiuno.
Tagging some familiar names from my notifs lately: @uldahstreetrat, @starforger, @archaiclumina, @miqojak, @yloiseconeillants, and many, many more! (I apologize that I couldn’t list everyone—the truth is, my notif exploded since last night and I’m still in awe at that, lol.)
As usual, anyone is welcome to give this a try, and feel free tag me if you want me to read the results for your blorbos!
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BLOODBORNE LORE Q+A PART 7: CAINHURST RAID, CARYLL AND THE RUNES, LEAVING BYRGENWERTH
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
part 6 (start of lore dump)
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my new adhd medication is working too good.
BLOCK #LONG POST/ TO NOT SEE THESE HUGE POSTS
i will post pure speculation in italics and important nouns in bold. these are created with the intent to be enjoyed by fans and non-fans.
translation source
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from the jump i'm going to add an editor's note that from this point on the timeline is muddled, confusing, vague and occasionally contradictory. people have moved heaven and earth trying to make sense of the inconsistencies, but the truth of the matter is that bloodborne suffered the fromsoft late game curse and was chopped up beyond recognition at the 11th hour for whatever internal development reason. whats interesting to me is the stuff they chose to keep that's complete and utter chaff. there are extremely rare items that do literally nothing but sit in your inventory, or quests that are completely pointless. enemies appear where they "shouldn't" and it difficult to tell if they are trying to impart some kind of information or if we're just getting dragon-assed in lost izalith again. its very odd and i think thats what draws people back again and again. such as....me......
i can give you overviews of these events in the approximate order that they happened but there is no guarantee that they happened exactly in this order or in this fashion.
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from this point on, there will be a distinct delineation between "old hunters" and "hunters". old hunters are from the time of byrgenwerth and have survived into the modern day as a result of old blood injections or can be summoned from the hunter's nightmare using the old hunter bell. a distinct characteristic of old hunters is that they no longer dream (the bell description reads: "The old hunters, who have long passed from the dream[...]"). notable old hunters include: gascoigne, alfred, djura, ludwig, gehrman, and maria.
regular ass hunters are new on the scene and usually belong to a recently established institution such as the healing church, school of mensis, or the choir. or they might just be common schlubs who joined the hunt as part of the neighborhood watch. [points at the camera] that's you. eventually. not yet.
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as perfect proof of what i'm talking about with regards to contradictory timelines and being chopped to bits: an unknown time ago, martyr logarius and a band of executioners traveled to cainhurst castle and slaughtered the inhabitants, the dreaded vilebloods. the inciting incident (or so says alfred, a heavily biased source as hes the only executioner in the game, uh, with lines anyway) was an unknown scholar who "betrayed his fellows at Byrgenwerth and brought forbidden blood back with him to Cainhurst Castle". the blood "threaten[s] the purity of the Church's blood healing" although it's not explained how or what the fuck they're talking about. according to alfred, logarius stayed behind to prevent the undying and unkillable queen from regaining power.
i do not know when this takes place. cainhurst royals were "long-time imbibers of blood" who already had a system to deal with the beast plague, implying they doing blood before blood was cool. but eventually ludwig uses the executioner uniform as the basis for his church hunters and it features the modern edition of the hunter's mark (as opposed to the older versions that you can see in this concept art and in chalice dungeons), so it had to be during or before ludwig's time. there are runes associated with both parties that were discovered by a byrgenwerth scholar, so it at least happened during or after their lifetime.
so its kind of vaguely around this time even though they talk about it like it happened 1000 years ago. since this is one of the least comprehensible story-lines of the game, we won't worry about it too much right now.
i need an image to break this up so check out the most fucked up, non-snake related map in the game:
for a company known for its cohesive maps, this is a fucking insane series of choices. i understand annalise needs to be trapped but what the fuck is this room. why is it up here. why is it magic. why is it like a hoarders nest full of the same 4 statues found literally everywhere on this map. this truly is the most mysterious game.
everyone and their mother has a completely baseless and improbable theory about who the culprit was or if there even WAS a rat at byrgenwerth- so of course so do i. let me work my way over there.
---
whether due to an ideological difference or the whole fishing hamlet genocide thing, laurence and several of the hunters left byrgenwerth with the intent of researching "the old blood" from the labyrinth. the miraculous healing powers were too enticing for laurence to ignore, but willem was steadfast in his belief that humanity was not yet ready to reckon with whatever it was that was happening here - at least, not without elevating themselves to the same level as those in the "cosmos". his distaste for use of the blood is mentioned off-hand in the rune workshop tool description.
caryll runes side note for newbies: caryll runes are a gameplay mechanic that give you buffs you can switch in and out by using an iron brand on your consciousness. the runes themselves are transcriptions of "the inhuman utterings of the Great Ones". all but a handful of the runes were discovered/transcribed by runesmith caryll and some were explicitly secret ones.
almost nothing is known about caryll except they were a student of byrgenwerth. the workshop tool named for them is found on a dead hunter tied to a chair as the reward for the witch of hemwick fight. people will try to tell you that this schmuck is caryll but that's fucking stupid. caryll was not a hunter and there's no reason why caryll would have the means or motive to pilfer their own tool from the hunter's dream. i dont know why this guy has it. maybe hes just an asshole and stole it from the dream to be a dick. who knows. hes just griefing us lol
all three translations agree that caryll runes "do not rely" on using blood, so its significant when they DO start using blood in the runes. one could read this as indication of caryll's transition from byrgenwerth to the healing church to follow laurence over willem. nearly all of the covenant related runes and the runes relating to oedon are bleeding or "contain a nuance of Blood", as it says in the corruption rune used by the vilebloods.
the executioners have a rune too, "radiance", which is unusual for its description specifying that caryll had already discovered the rune by the time the executioners adopted it as their own. there is no mention of this on the "corruption" page, nor on the remaining covenant runes discovered by caryll.
if cainhurst were to alert their subjects of the already well-known beast plague caused by the miraculous healing blood, the church's newly established grasp on the populace would crumble. if cainhurst could keep the beasts in check, why couldn't they? they already did, after all, in the labyrinth. with the vilebloods gone (or at least, dealt with), the church has unilateral control of the ministration process to the point where alfred, an old hunter, does not understand it in the least. i wonder if a certain byrgenwerth educated runesmith was invited to castle cainhurst or traveled on their own, only to discover during the runemaking process that the "old blood" from the labyrinth and the blood in the veins of the royals were one and the same.
---
"eyes on the inside" is a cutesy way of describing "insight", but the byrgenwerth system for deriving said insight necessitated the gruesome acts at the fishing village to obtain an eye-ridden cord, or at the very least, the parasitic creatures and slugs aligned to the arcane found in the village and bodies of the fishing village. willem hoped the cord would elevate his mind, and by extension himself, into a great one.
if we do some reading between the lines on the description for the "spark hunter badge", the description of "a style of inquiry that [...] closely followed the methodology of Byrgenwerth" is almost certainly "expose yourself to it" or "use living specimens" based on, well, everything and their protegees do. its not clear if willem ever actually got the cord; it only says he "sought" it. but he did, at least take part in and shape the byrgenwerth focus of learning away from blood and toward developing eyes on the inside. by putting slugs in your fucking head.
someone on reddit pointed out that the brainsucker enemies are kos parasites living inside the stitched up skulls of...people? pthumerians? i would argue pthumerians due to the fact that these enemies replace the generic pthumerian enemies in a chalice dungeon much later.
we can talk about byrgenwerth's results and fate later. because next time, the healing church is established.
---
i cannot believe how long this shit is. kudos if you read it i guess. if nothing else it gets this out of my head, forever.
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prompt 4 for moshang with the mood "incensed" would be hilarous i imagine
Mythology - Foretold by the gods - moshang
--
So he might have, maybe, at some point -- some late at night or maybe very early point -- tried to figure out an OC for Mobei-jun to ship w fuck. Dude was so perfect, it was a shame his dump truck ass and sequoia thighs remained unembraced. (Also the whole "he's so mysterious and never opens up and unveils his deep thoughts and tender feelings except for me" fantasy but never mind all that.)
He'd gone exactly as far as 'Meeting: why tf would he notice anyone. Dashing rescue? Why does he need a rescue he's too cool and basically untrappable anyway, what are they rescuing him from socializing with his cousins lmao???' on his notes before giving up on making it realistic. The next scribble was 'cuz i said so ok next'.
There had been no 'next'. His battery had died and when he managed to get home and get his laptop plugged in it was time for another word vomit on the topic of Bing-ge's meat truncheon.
[Secret side-quest: Easter egg! 1/536 discovered. Keep going!][Category: "is it a headcanon if you didn't think it up with your upper head?" 1/413]
'System-bro, what the entire fuck!?!' Airplane screeched inside his heart of hearts; ass on the floor (bruising), clothes askew (from sleeping in them!!), and the most gorgeous, terrifying man he'd ever seen staring down at him from the bed they'd crashed into (Mobei-jun first, because unconscious, Airplane later, because idiot) the previous night.
Because he had expected being sneered at; being talked down to; being attacked on sight. Being haughtily ignored, after sufficient groveling at crotch level.
But his most perfect, most unattainable creation, that Himalayan peak made flesh, saying that --
--
The problem with Airplane was, he didn't trust people. He didn't trust them to share their feelings and decisions with him freely instead of leaving him reeling at yet another swerve of which he was merely collateral damage. He didn't trust them not to lie to themselves, or even know they were lying to themselves, so even if they did tell him what they thought or felt he assumed they were doing the polite 'the real reason is none of your business but telling you to fuck off is rude' thing at best.
So yes, his favorite game from childhood had been to pick someone in the crowd and tell himself stories about their life. This guy is a grandfather of seven and doesn't know the birthday of a single grandkid and his eldest son just pointed it out to him, but not even angrily which is worse because that's how low the bar he failed to clear was, that's why the fancy package and the gloomy expression. That girl just broke up -- she's so angry though -- he was fucking her sister. No wait, her nails are short, it was a girlfriend for sure; she fucked her brother, a double betrayal. It had evolved into telling himself stories about his classmates and his half-siblings and his parents, since they were never ever gonna bother to invite him to take a real glimpse inside, anyway.
He was fully aware that statistically speaking he was probably wrong a lot of the time, but 1. coming up with coherent narratives was satisfying enough to smother the jealousy and loneliness and 2. as far as he was concerned it was true until proved otherwise, which was never.
But a guy who gave him nothing to work with. That was a challenge. That was fascinating.
....
But a guy who greeted him by "You are to be my husband?" with a tone of dismay?!
What the fuck! What the fuck!! What the flying dick-flapping fuck!!!
He was so shocked, he forgot to kowtow.
"You uh. My king?" He hadn't made the guy so above it all that he landed straight back into a a naive ingenue, right? "Just sleeping on the same mattress doesn't -- people don't have to be married to share--"
The muggy air of the inn room went so cold so fast that condensation rolled cold drops down his back.
(The effect didn't last; there was a haze in the air, briefly, and then a suffocating breeze from outside ruined the surprise air-con.)
"You will not speak to me like an idiot child," Mobei-jun-to-be rumbled threateningly, and then ruined the cool by continuing in that wtf vein. "My husband will show respect to his wife or his wife shall reign as a widow."
Holy shit, now Mobei-jun was the wife???!?!??? What? What! Airplane was dead. Again. For good.
He stayed down there sitting on his ass, waiting for the world to make sense. It didn't happen. The man of his masochistic dreams had crossed his arms over his massive bara titties like a barricade and was now sulking up there like an offended wi-- no, he couldn't even think it.
"My -- my king? It's only, ah, your humble servant doesn't... recall... getting married...?"
Eyes as blue as the afterimage of a lightning strike speared him through, metaphorically.
"Not yet. But we must."
He let out a long sigh; and his face didn't twitch when he moved to aggravate his wound, but the way he stilled for a breath was telling. Shang not-yet-Qinghua winced in reflexive sympathy.
"There is a prophecy."
"... Ah?" A prophecy. About his king. That he hadn't put into the story. That he hadn't even scribbled into the margins or thought about. 'System?!'
[Yes, valued User?]
"There is a prophecy for each generation, and most of them don't matter," the ice demon using that shitty inn bed as his throne said with a bitter tone. "But the eleventh ruler of the Northern Desert will be heralded by his foretold spouse; that is how he is confirmed."
"Ohh," Airplane said intelligently and with characteristic eloquence.
"'You will know them by these things," his king quoted sourly, "first, they will heal you; second, share your bed; third, offer their hand, and service, and their soul."
'Their soul! Their soul!! I was offering my sneakiness and maybe my dick, ah?! System!!! Who told you to mess up my creation with made-up prophecies?!'
[The easter egg category: "is it a headcanon if you didn't think it up with your upper head?" belongs to the third rung of canon : Word of God.]
But he hadn't told anyone--
But he'd written it down, he remembered now. 'Cuz i said so.'
Oh god. Oh immortals ascended before him. Oh little ancestors in both and either worlds. Someone fix this for him. "My king. Haha. My king, that is -- so vague! So vague?! How can there not be a dozen candidates with criteria so -- so stupid? And if the prophecy is common knowledge then people knew them in advance?! How were you not sabotaged right and left--"
...Oh no. He was gorgeous when he smirked like this, slow and feline, satisfied. My king, so unfair.
"This prince has long since made it a point not to sleep where others may catch him." A delicate pause. "He has also made it a point to return misplaced agents to his most obstinate siblings's chambers at a time his elders may not miss them."
"--Oh. Disqualifying them for trying to disqualify you -- so smart, my king!" For a moment, he had gotten enthused. But then he remembered that they were discussing his sudden non-canon matrimony, and then he started poking it for plot holes. "But -- just anybody can share your bed."
"The language is old, and clear. The prophecy speaks of the only person to ever share this king's bed."
... Hhghhhk.
That stare. So hard. Offended. Those cheekbones. So cutting. That nose, regal; that hair.
"My king," Airplane said as he climbed up to his feet, eyes trained on the floor and his knees and the things spread on the table and anything else at all. "Have you ever thought that the 'sharing a bed' section was metaphorical?"
He met the demon's eyes then, incredulous and angry, buoyant with it. "You haven't even shown me your dick and you think I should be making recompense?! What the fuck! Passing out on the same shitty mattress doesn't mean getting deflowered! I didn't knock you up with a snowball ass egg, why the fuck should I--"
Oh, he was tall. Also wide. Especially wide. Flatten me daddy indeed.
Oh, he was angry.
"It is not. Metaphorical. Though if all you need is to see my body--"
His hand landed on his belt. Shang eventually-Qinghua stopped breathing, body hot and bubbling with too much emotion--
It read like one of his waifu plots, the Joan of Arc types, unconquerable holy virgins except via the pressure of greater good.
A vague scrying over some random-ass kingdom, a little prophecy and welp! Nothing to it, just gotta fuck it out for the marital bed and then never again. At least you getting lawfully reamed has saved Bumfucknowhereistan.
'System. Demerit if I say hell no?'
[The bonus Mobei-jun questline remains optional, and brings User no penalties on opt-out.]
'Great.'
Like hell he was jumping into marriage because he liked some guy's face and didn't want to be bothered by geriatric busybodies tittering over his lack of wedlock. Who was he, his mother?
"I'll pass. Sorry, my king, at least I'm ditching you long before the altar?"
And with a sweep of his hand, he dumped all his things off the table and into his qiankun pouch, and was jumping out the window and doing a sick flip trick on his trusty borrowed blade. Airplane over and out, bro!
Thanks for nothing. Now his spank bank was forever tainted.
--
Three days later he was still dealing with bursts of anger and anguish and other moronic emotions, which didn't help navigating his miraculous return to the sect ("I was so scared!" lost its impact if he broke a sneery judgmental Shixiong's ankle with a well-placed kick) or the medical peak's nosiness ("Who cares about the bruises, my biggest injury is my blue balls and broken heart, thanks!") or Shen not-quite-Quingqiu's scalpel eyes.
His king's eyes were prettier.
His king was never going to be his king. Optional quest line. Yeah. He vaguely wondered how the System planned to make him betray the sect, then, who for, and then decided it wasn't his problem. Fuck it. He was sure it could do blackout poetry with his notes and pull out some contrived justification that would amount for half as much incentive as Mobei-jun's everything.
His fierce determination, his fearlessness, his skill, his -- his body.
His body that was extremely too visible on Shang in-his-soul-Qinghua's disciple bed, shoulders draped in furs and bountiful meaty muscle on full frontal display.
"I will not," he growled low and quiet, "be discarded by my spouse."
"Hhg."
He had snow leopard rosettes on his flanks in dusky blue, secret patterns never appeared in any cover art Airplane had commissioned.
[Secret side-quest: Easter egg! 2/536 discovered. Keep going!]
... Oh god, it turned out Shang Qinghua was exactly as stupid as Bing-ge's most ice-cold chaste wives. Because 'lie back and think of England?' Yeah, he was going to think of England and that dick.
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GA: Im Not Surprised To See You Endorse His Paranoia Without Hesitation [...]
GA: These Events Are Inevitable And Regardless Of Whatever Emotional Entanglements Obfuscate Their Significance They Will Ultimately Serve An Important Purpose [...]
GA: And Karkats Notion Of A Curse Is Inseparable From His Perception Of Events As Intrinsically Negative And As Tailored To His Personal Dissatisfaction
Sure, Karkat’s taking it a little personally, but let’s give him a little credit here. When he complains about how badly things are going, he’s correct. The literal apocalypse is at his door, his whole species is going extinct, and he and the other survivors are watching their parents die before their eyes, before being spirited away to an uncertain fate. And this is all, apparently, business as usual, as far as fate is concerned.
Sorry, Paradox Space, but I have to second-guess you, here. Why, exactly, are the lusi dying? Why does everyone keep dying in alt-timelines? Why is Sburb designed to destroy civilizations? These events are ‘inevitable’, alright, but why? Why are these specific, tragic events inevitable, and not others?
Sure, maybe these things are needed to fulfil time loops, way down the line. But that just pushes the question down the stream, doesn’t it? Why do we have the time loops we have, and why do they all seem to suck so bad?
This is all to say - whatever important purpose GA seems to have heard about, it’s going to be a pretty hard sell.
GA: And Your Bad Luck Is The Same Way
GA: I Believe Anyway [...]
GA: What Would Happen If You Just Cleaned Up A Bit
GA: Dont You Think You Would Step On A Few Less Hard Triangles
Good advice for the real world - but in Homestuck, as always, things aren’t so simple. Whitetext was quick to take credit for Vriska’s bad luck earlier on, after all.
Plus, in the real world, ‘luck’ is when random events fall in one’s favor. The Homestuck universe might not even have random events, so luck might work very differently there. We just don’t know yet.
AG: Meddler. Why you so meddley, Miss Meddlesome McFussyfangs????????
GA: Because Youre Dangerous [...]
GA: And Dangerous People Can Be Really Important
GA: Maybe Even The Most Important Sometimes
Vriska will be a key player in the session. She’s got powerful psychic abilities, she’s full of drive, and she even has experience with optimizing game systems.
There are dozens of ways I could imagine her putting her psionics to constructive use, but the question isn’t whether she could do so - it’s whether she would. Maybe losing Spidermom will help her to grow beyond the life she’s been forced to live... or maybe she’ll start maiming players that don't try hard enough.
Aw, fuck. It’s going to be both, isn’t it?
GA: But It Just Means Theres Got To Be Someone Around To Keep An Eye On Them
GA: And If Not Me Then Who
Why just you, GA? It feels suboptimal to assign only one troll to Vriska Duty. That’s a lot of pressure for GA alone, especially given she’s going to have her own Quest to contend with.
It really feels like keeping Vriska reined in should be a team effort - I’d pick Terezi, Aradia and GA. Admittedly, I doubt Aradia would be up for it, but we should definitely figure something out, so GA isn’t stuck doing this on her own.
AG: Or you know, if you're so h8gh 8nd might8 an8 th8nk you're so gr8at, m8y88 you c8uld oh I d8n't kn8w........
AG: TRY AND ST8P ME FROM DO8NG B8D THINGS????????
GA: That Wouldnt Work
GA: If I Tried To Stop You You Would Regard Me As An Enemy
We’re finally seeing those extra 8s, so it seems Vriska is genuinely bothered about this. I have a couple guesses for what’s going on here.
Vriska wants to be seen as a real threat. GA isn’t trying to stop her, so she feels like she’s being underestimated.
Vriska is desperate for someone to rein her in, because, on some level, she recognizes that her behavior is wrong, dangerous, or destructive.
Vriska sees GA as a threat. She’s only pretending to be agitated, and wants to provoke GA into dealing with her alone, so that she can take her out of the picture.
Option 1 feels too simple, and Option 3 doesn’t feel like Vriska’s style. She seems to wear her emotions on her sleeve, and I don’t know if she could fake a reaction like this.
Does Vriska actually want to be stopped? That might explain why she’s so intent on making an enemy out of everyone she talks to.
AG: 8ut I'm starting to think you are full of shit, and I am quite sure she will 8e QU8TE FIN8!
GA: Youre Right Anything Can Happen I Guess
GA: But Just So You Know Im Sorry For Your Loss In Advance
Damn, dude.
arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA]
arachnidsGrip [AG] began trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA]
AG: Aaaaaaaah!
AG: Man, why d8dn't I just get th8 last w8rd and sign off real qu8ck like I usu8lly do????????
Unsurprisingly, social interactions are just another thing Vriska has to ‘win’.
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ok ok so HERE'S WHY I'm so adamant against putting a quest log / quest markers in Slasher U.
Basically, Skyrim destroyed my brain in college. BY THIS I MEAN, when Skyrim came out, it had a SUPER robust quest log system, quest markers on the minimap, map, AND the compass line that's literally on-screen at all times, which means all you need to do is align yourself with a marker point, point your character at it, and just start walking. This is initially extremely cool because, hey! Look! All those markers for quests, easily laid out, for you to follow on the map! No thinking required!
Except for, combined with all the radiant quests, and the sheer AMOUNT of fucking markers, I was doing something I had never done in games before: I STOPPED READING THE QUEST TEXT. I'm the guy who used to read every piece of quest text in fucking WORLD OF WARCRAFT. I was just pointing my guy at thing, going to thing, talking to thing, getting thing, lather rinse repeat. And, like, don't get me wrong, I was having FUN. Except I realized, like, halfway through the game, I didn't remember a single NPC's name OR what the fucking main plot of the game even was. It's not the civil war storyline apparently? This was news to Teen Me, lol.
Anyway I didn't think much of it until I went back and tried to play Fallout New Vegas, and realized I had to. actually. READ QUEST TEXT. AGAIN. And that not EVERY SINGLE OPTION was laid out easily for you to select from a menu. And the game wasn't gonna tell me where jack shit was. Worst of all, I just ASSUMED that you *couldn't do stuff or couldn't do certain roleplaying choices because the game didn't let you*, but in fact, the game DID. It just didn't tell you you COULD. Because Obsidian kinda wanted you to use your noodle and discover things slowly. And guess what? That shit forced me to ACTUALLY THINK ABOUT THE STORY AND COME UP WITH CREATIVE SOLUTIONS ON MY OWN, which I then tried in the F:NV universe, and was pleasantly surprised to see that the game accounted for them!
So yeah. Next time you wonder why I didn't put "unlock all 3 non sexy minigames!" in SU:Act 1 it's because of todd howard
#slasher u#behind the scenes#game dev#I'M STILL PUTTING THE “PROBLEMS TO SOLVE” LIST/UI IN THE REST OF THE ACTS lol dw#i'm just gonna get creative with the wording and make sure it encourages like actual exploration
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Bottom of the barrel isekai: b-rank adventurer with an evil look becomes a daddy to the protagonist and his childhood friend.
Well if i'm reading it, that's a goddamn lie, hello! Pull up a chair, drink my tea, piss on my wife, you have the most control in this world because you are the specialist lil fella that can do not a lick of wrong! It's time for another bottom of the barrel isekai review! Today, you can read the title above, go fuck yourself if you think im going write it out every single god damn time.
Come out boys, girls and some other thing, frogs? Is that what the enbys like these days? Frogs? Anyways let's do the song and dance!
Our titular main character is a dude from japan, they wasted their live away being a disgusting fucking neet and playing video games all the live long day, being a whale in pirates 101 and domeing me from across the map as widow maker on royal!
Anyways he fucking Dies and gets reincarnated in the game he and his singular friend dearly loved known as bright fantasy, now as we can see in the picture above, perhaps he reincarnated as some sorta giga god, perhaps his party abandoned him because they didnt understand the monumental boon a tax accountant has in another world… perhaps he was summoned by the king to Fuck his wife for him!
Wait a second… is that a sharp detour…? FU-
Anyways gray is reborn as a Thug Npc, or someone with a dark background, his looks mean, he has a average appearance and some fucking sick shoulder gaurds. He is a moody lil nobody, which is why it's such an insane hook to see it open with two children begging to be adopted by him in the opening
Now before you get too scared that we are running into uncharted territories since we haven't had anyone betray anyone and the MC has not turned god inside out, we get to dive back into the cool cocoons of familiar fantasy tropes with the adventuring ranking system. I'm not going to bother to explain it, if you got a letter grade in school then you know what it means. Get close to the A and that means you are the Big Boy adventurer who does the Big Boy quests.
Now i do appreciate the authors restraint and only making him the Second Biggest boy and attempting to make him Not A Twink
We almost have a guy who is on a bulk and not a cut, sigh, one day.
Anyways we pull back ground tall dark and who cares to learn that these two are matchstick kids. Dead broke kids who are attempting to sell flowers they have picked to the people on the street. They were attacked by nobody you are going to remember and get healed by gray. They then decide to beg him to save their ailing parents because I guess wonka isn't around to give golden tickets to get them out of bed or whatever.
They tell them their names, one of them has the super special name of the Super Main Character. What a coinkyDink. Gray knows that if he is to be a villain (???) then his job is to avoid it. Luckily he went to the Katarina claes school of villainy and decided that ethical action is actually more important than meta narrative logic.
Cut to Tiny tims lakeside property and we see the rest of the family living the fucking dream!
I'm so sorry, i have this mental tick where i accidently say “dream” instead of “nightmare”.
Also Stella is a vampire, why? Fuck you thats why.
They explain that they have been getting by by the skin of their teeth through a combination of the street urchin grind set of selling flowers and getting church donations. Gray beats up some assumed child abductors outside and gives a somewhat creepy smile.
Next chapter is about Gray stealing an orcs' balls to create a high end potion (viagra) to nobles so he can get enough money to buy something called a “home”? I'm not sure what that is exactly, i'm not sure what the translator was talking about, i've certainly never heard of someone “buying” or owning one for certain.
I don't actually have much to say about this guy, this is the guy who makes the ball potion for gray, I just like him, he has a funny face, I like looking at it. He looks like someone I would trade yugioh cards with while he tells me about his super cool oc and I would listen because he is a fun dude.
But yeah, the manga is mostly about this guy being a slightly more psychotic late stage kratos, being a dad, trying to raise a bunch of random kids he found, trying to give the main character a taste of normalcy before the plot kicks and and shit goes sideways, oh and sometimes he brutally kills people.
His main goal is to have a family and that's about that.
So let's start getting into things.
The title has no interest in creating an expansive world that is original, everything of it is meat burrowed and stitched into its own narrative to support its own plot line and to explain why this happens and why that is occurring at this point. Now I do not believe that this is inherently a bad thing. In fact it's fine. Not every single manga needs to be the next genre defining piece of media. In fact we need things that are average, we need things that build the genre or else we can never have exceptions to the rule. The magic system, the team system, the classes, the guilds, the plot, it's all what you would expect from something with final fantasy inspirations. Semi (not really) complicated fighting systems that only make sense to pad out the loving tedium of a game. “Complete this many quests of this level to rank up.” “collect this many monster parts to complete the quest” and so on and so fourth ad infitum until god has to pop out and ask what the fuck is going on.
The art is great in places. Most of it is very bog standard, you aren't going to get that much out of it if you are expecting groundbreaking designs that really make you scratch your chin in wonder at how they made something like that up. But it's very clearly competent and knows how to give each of its characters that needed cover before you read the book. People that need to look like unlikeable thugs look like unlikeable thugs, children that need to look sweet and innocent look sweet and innocent. The artist is really good at goofy expressions but they are a bit few and far between to really satisfy my desire for evil fucked up faces, oh kekegurui… if i didnt hate your plot so much i would be so much more obsessed with you…
The tropes I've already gone over. It uses every single trope but more so in the way someone would do if they were playing a new game plus. You don't want to do the rigamarole of the heroes rise so you make them overpowered and whatever so they can get to the stuff that you have deemed important, that being fatherhood simulator and housing market simulator. The world is secondary to the plot the author wants so they grab the tropes they want to ensure they can focus on that part of the story with impunity while hand waving some other things and give ol daddy gray his badass moments to make the editors happy that this is infact enough of a power fantasy. You know, to keep those freaks that actually buy the manga happy.
As for kink stuff, none that I can see. The author only seems to want women to fawn on the main character so they can complete the golden vision of the dead emperor abe of the nuclear family, perhaps hoping to tempt his blessing from beyond the grave…
This was a little bit of a boreing read. I cant entirely recommend it, but if you want to see some edgy boredline twunk be a dad to a bunch of random kids he adopted then yeah, go for it lmao.
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minesweeper