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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 years

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A Song of heart and blood - part one | Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: After an horrible prophetical dream, you find yourself traveling through time to try and save your sister, Daenerys, from her fatal ascension to the Iron Throne. During your mission, your heart derives you from your duty and you fall in love with your ancestor

Word count: 2.3k

masterpost

A/N: The time-traveling part was heavily inspired by Outlander

While most of Valerian descent are born dragonriders, very few have been dreamers.

The first known dreamer had been Daenys Targaryen, known as 'the Dreamer'. She had foreseen the Doom of Valyria in a dream twelve years before it happened, causing her father to relocate the family and its dragons to Dragonstone, thus securing House Targaryen's future as the last known dragonlord family in the world and the rulers of the Seven Kingdoms.

Then, Aegon I Targaryen, Viserys I Targaryen, Helaena Targaryen, Daemon II Blackfyre...and you.

The castle in King's Landing was completely destroyed, except for the Iron Throne. Your sister, Daenerys, was walking toward it, the new queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She touched the throne, a faint smile curling on her lips. Behind her, a man with dark hair had entered the room. They began talking – arguing – about some matter you couldn't hear. A kiss was shared and, as the two kissed, the man stabbed her in her heart with his dagger.

Had you told Dany about your dream, she would've laughed and said it was just that: a dream. Deep down, you could feel that it was something more. A dragon dream, as they call it in the books. A prophecy.

You had to do something to prevent your sister's tragic end. Talking her down to go after the Iron Throne was a losing battle. Dany was strong-headed; she would never accept to give up what was rightfully hers, even if you told her about your dream.

She didn't believe in that sort of thing, anyway.

The days following your dream, you found yourself in your head a lot. You couldn't look at your sister without seeing the blood leaking from her mouth and nose after that man had assassinated her. It had become difficult to close an eye at night, knowing what would happen to her in the end.

You had to do something.

A few days later, you packed your bag and went on your own to know more about prophecies. Leaving her with the Dothrakis worried you, but Ser Jorah had sworn protection to her. He'll keep her safe while you'll be gone.

After seven moons doing some heavy research away in the Free Cities, you found a woman of old age who knew about Dreamers and prophecies. She told you the only way to keep a foretelling event from happening was to fix the mistakes that led to it – albeit it being close to impossible. Prophecies always find a way to come to pass.

''Time traveling?'' you repeated with a doubtful furrow of your eyebrows.

The woman nodded. ''There is this old tale about a High Priestess who practiced different sorts of sorcery using the power of R'hllor. According to the tale, she has revived a man who had been stabbed enough times to empty himself of his blood, and knew details only someone who had lived in the past could know of. She is rumored to have lived hundreds of years, all thanks to her magic.''

''How may I find her?''

''Unfortunately, the High Priestess has been burned to the stake many decades ago, but her grimoire has not been found. She lived in a crept in Volantis, where I assume her grimoire still is. You might find what you need in it.''

''Would it save my sister? Going back in time.''

''Possibly.'' The woman

''You got to find the exact moment, the trigger time-stamp that started the downfall of the Targaryen dynasty.''

Was she talking about your father's descent into insanity? Had he not been held prisoner for half a year by a rebellious lord, perhaps he would not have let his paranoia cloud his judgment or let his cruelty grow. Perhaps Ser Jamie Lannister, a member of his own Kingsguard, would not have killed him.

Unless the prophecy went back longer ago? When did House Targaryen begin losing its power?

According to Maester Yandel, the biggest losses of House Targaryen happened during the Dance of Dragons, a major civil war in the history of the Seven Kingdoms. It destroyed many cadet and lesser branches of the Targaryen family - thinning the Targaryen bloodline –, and also eliminated almost all of the surviving dragons at the time – seventeen dragons died during the Dance.

Had the Dance not happened, had Aegon II not been born, it would've made a massive difference in the future of House

''Before you go searching for the grimoire, I shall warn you my lady: any minor change can have a ripple effect that could harm innocent bystanders.''

The crypt had taken you weeks to locate.

Each page of the grimoire was made of human skin and written with blood. It was quite gnarly to touch - or smell. The spelling was difficult to decipher. No offense to the High Priestess, but her handwriting was not the greatest. Some of the pages were in High Valyrian – which must've been the High Priestess's first language. Fortunately, you had been taught the language growing up.

Inside, you came across resurrecting spells and fertilization rituals, a handful of curses and poisonous brews, and a time-traveling ritual. They were all using blood magic, which was one of the most dangerous magic, but after seeing your sister ascending her rightful title as queen, to then be killed by her lover – which was somehow not Khal Drogo –, you were willing to risk the danger and consequences of blood magic.

The ritual sounded complex, but was relatively simple. You'll need a gemstone, fire and blood – and a solstice in a specific location. Fortunately for you, the summer solstice was only a moon away. You also needed an object that belonged to the time you wanted to go back to. The dragonglass dagger in your bag will be perfect. It had been given to the princess Rhaenyra by Viserys himself while he was king.

On the week of the Solstice, you began your journey to the ancient stone circle located on a mountain in Volantis. According to the grimoire, one of the stones was large and cleft, through which a time traveler may pass.

Come the Solstice, you waited until the moon was at its highest and started a small fire in the middle of the stone circle while reading a few High Valerian lines. You then added a few drops of your blood to the fire and threw the dragonglass dagger – the fire crackled and the flame grew in height, almost touching your forehead.

You immediately stepped back, startled. This was your first time dabbling in magic. You didn't know fire could be so powerful.

Lastly, you walked up to the large cleft stone, pressed your palm against the cleft.

Approximately 170 years before your birth

Since your arrival in King’s Landing, you have tried to be discreet and keep to yourself as much as possible.

As the woman of old age warned you, time-traveling was delicate. Each change – even the smallest – will have a direct effect on the future. A sliver of change done wrong, and the whole future could take a turn for the worse, the Targaryen lineage could be extinct sooner. You and your sister could…not exist.

All you needed to do was prevent Aegon II from being born. That alone should have a huge impact on the Targaryen dynasty – on the future.

You had no idea how you would execute your plan. From what you knew, the queen was expecting and the babe would be born in a couple of weeks from now. That didn't leave you a lot of time. The main issue was, Queen Alicent lived in the Red Keep and there was no way you could sneak in unnoticed. There were guards all around the castle. One was probably posted at the door of her chamber for extra safety.

Every time you took a stroll in the city, you were pestered by sellers. Seafood when in Fishmonger's Square, brewers in Dragon Square, baked goods on the Street of Flour. Everything looked delicious, but the coins in your pocket couldn't be spent on treats.

A brewer was being insistent tonight, trying to get you to try his liquor. You shook your head, politely declining. The bearded man was not taking no for an answer, claiming you must have coins on you because of the jewel around your neck.

The small quarrel grew in volume, catching some citizens' attention, notably a man in a hooded cloak. You wanted to run, but when you took a quick look around to evaluate your options, you caught the man with the hooded cloak's eyes. His eyes were purple and, under his large hood, you saw a glimpse of his silver hair. He was a Targaryen.

When you teleported through the stones, you vowed to yourself to minimize your social interactions and to not directly interact with any of your ancestors to not disrupt the future in times where it wasn't necessary.

You recognized him as Daemon, also known as the Rogue Prince. His dark gray hooded cloak was doing a mediocre job at shielding his identity – at least from the front. Or, perhaps you were just too good at recognizing those who shared your blood.

‘’The woman seems not to be interested.’’

Daemon’s voice cut the brewer's word spitting, making the bearded man raise his head in his direction. Although there was no threat in the prince's words, his tone itself held an authority. It felt commanding.

Had he been a regular man of the city, you would've thanked him. Instead, you ran off.

You didn’t want to be impolite, or come off as not thankful – you were thankful for him stepping in. Without him, the brewer would probably still be pressuring you to buy his liquor. You needed to remain unnoticed during your travels. Thanking Daemon would’ve broken your rule.

You took a left on the Street of Silk and felt eyes on your back. Had the bearded man followed you? No. It was unlikely. After Daemon’s interruption, he had to have given up. Someone was following you, though.

You snaked through the bodies and ran as fast as your legs allowed you.

A few buildings down, the street was splitting. You took another left and hid inside the closest building, which turned out to be a pleasure house – a brothel – , of all places. Just like the streets, it was packed.

You had never been to one of these places before. There wasn’t any around where you grew up. It was…was…uncomfortable. There were naked people – men and women – all around; some were dancing sexually, some were moaning and performing sexual acts of all genres.

‘’Silver hair are difficult to hide, are they?’’

You whirled around and came face to face with the Rogue Prince himself. His hood was still on, but his eyes bore right into yours. Just like yours, they were a shade of purple. His were a lighter color, but no less piercing.

He reached out to twirl a piece of your hair between his fingers, a frown settling between his eyebrows. Your alluring beauty, long and braided silver hair and the Valyrian steel necklace around your neck – a piece of jewelry that once belonged to your mother – were a straight-teller of your Targaryen roots.

‘’Where did you get this?’’ His eyes fixated the jewelry, as if he had seen it before.

‘’My mother.’’

''Valyrian steel, right?’’ You nodded. ‘’I brought the same one to my niece two years ago. I was told there was only one.’’

‘’Perhaps the person you bought it from was mistaken – or they lied to you.’’

Daemon looked at you with wary eyes. ‘’Who are you?’’

The dreaded question. You gulped, nervousness bubbling in your stomach as you tried to think of a quick fake-name. Using Targaryen in this era would stir too many questions.

‘’Y/N. Y/N…Stormborn, my Prince.’’

The last words felt strange on your tongue. It was the proper way to address him, though.

‘’Stormborn?’’ Daemon’s frown deepened, the name unfamiliar. In fact, it was the first time he heard it. ‘’I’ve never heard. Although, you must be of Valyrian blood. Only those with Valyrian blood have silver hair.’’

You shrugged, playing your part. ‘’I would not know. My father lost his life in battle and my mother died during childbirth. I was raised by my brother in Essos.’’

That part wasn’t all false. You only omitted small details…like your father being the Mad King and escaping to Essos after your birth so you, Daenerys and Viserys – your brother –’s lives would be spared.

The man before you hummed. He didn’t know if you were bullshitting him or telling the truth, but he’ll take your words for now.

‘’Have you ever been in Essos, my Prince?‘’ you asked.

The prince didn't get to answer you. Behind you, one of the curtains lining the hallway opened and a drunk man got thrown out of the private room, his erected cock out in the open. A naked woman – assumingly a working whore from the brothel – followed and threw his pants and tunic at him.

‘’No money, no fucking,’’ she spat at him, then walked off.

He bent down to pick up his clothes and tipped forward, visibly too drunk to have any sense of balance, and limply falling against you. His heavy, dead weight caused you to fall forward, your hand reaching for something to grab onto but only finding air.

In good reflex, Daemon firmly gripped your arm, catching you before your face would meet the filthy floor and pulled you against him in a knightly gesture. You ended up with your face in the prince’s chest, the mix of sandalwood, pine and a tinge of red wine seeping through your nose and invading your senses. Gods, he smelled nice.

Had he not been your great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather, perhaps you would have taken advantage of the close proximity and stayed there a little longer.

A light flush creeped to your cheeks and you pulled away. ‘’My apologies.‘’

Taglist: @taylorDaughter @gillybear17 @liltimmyst @eos-princess

House of the Dragon/Game of Thrones taglist: @anastasiaxsworld @lollypopcrazylover @fin-never @dkathl @ayamenimthiriel @nerdy4itall @rraindrops @glors3 @beelanie @hc-geralt-23 @sweetybuzz25 @uniquenightsheep @kaywsworld @i-yam-awesome @caspianobsessed @kelssssxd @dilfsarebetterthanyou

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x y/n #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine

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sapphicseasapphire · 7 months

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Once upon a time, there was a Princess and a Knight.

There were others as well: Champions hailing from the far corners of Hyrule, innocent civilians, soldiers for the crown…

And a world ending evil.

The kingdom of Hyrule knew of their impending doom, they knew of the Great Calamity that threatened their lives. And so, the Princess prepared to protect her people by offering her prayers to the Goddess Hylia, giving every last ounce of herself in order to unlock the sealing power that she supposedly possessed.

Around her, the kingdom of Hyrule made its own preparations. Ancient automatons were discovered deep in the heart of the land and, piloted by the Champions, would be an asset to the Hyrulean Army. Guardians would act as foot soldiers, Divine Beasts would deal a heavy blow.

All in all, the kingdom hoped. They were well equipped for the battle ahead of them. The Princess’s knight wielded his sacred sword with confidence. The Champions piloted their Divine Beasts with valor. The Princess continued to pray for a power that would never come.

It would end up being their downfall.

Faceless bodies, nameless faces, all lost to the maw of the Calamity. The Champions had perished, their weapons becoming deadly prisons. The soldiers had fallen, slain by the very Guardians meant to protect them. Though, in her desperation, she tapped into the wellspring of power within herself and managed to save herself, it was not enough. In her lap was her knight, and he was not breathing. She had lost.

She had lost everything.

The blade of the Master Sword, tarnished in blood and muck where it rested in her knight’s limp fingers, reflected her tears as she cried over his lifeless body. All was silent, save for her sobs and shaky pleas. She begged the Goddess for forgiveness, for her knight to magically start breathing once more. She cursed Hylia for allowing this to happen, for ignoring her all these years, for taking the lives of so many.

The Goddess had ignored her in the past, and she had no qualms ignoring her now.

For the first time in her life, surrounded by the skeletons of corrupted Guardians, by the lifeless forms of the fallen, the princess was alone.

She was truly alone.

After the battle, the princess was discovered by the Sheikah, who ushered her to safety. The Kingdom was lost, buried somewhere beneath the ruin and carnage that surrounded her. She brought her knight with her, one last escort, she told herself. The princess could not bear to leave him there, alone with the emotionless automatons that had stolen his life away.

She walked beside him as he was carried from the battlefield.

When it was safe, she laid her fallen knight to rest in a quiet forest near his hometown, where the mountains had shielded the village from the worst of the Calamity and the sea breeze rustled through the leaves on the trees. The static sound was a comfort to the princess as she placed a blue and white flower onto the mound of upturned earth. Six feet under an unmarked grave lied a young man- just a boy- who deserved better. He had defended her until his very last breath, cursed to bear the responsibility of wielding the Blade of Evil’s Bane, destined to fight an impossible battle.

It was always going to end like this.

The princess did not have time to mourn. She entrusted the Great Deku Tree with the Master Sword, her heart aching with the knowledge that the sacred blade would no longer be wielded by her brave knight. Hyrule would have to wait for the cycle to begin anew, but in the mean time…

She had a job to do.

With nothing left to loose, the princess marched straight to bones of Hyrule Castle, where the beast of Calamity Ganon circled ominously above. With her sealing powers finally available to her, the princess was ready for one final fight.

But there’s an intrinsic magic in the balance of nature. The more religious Hyrulean citizens might even say they see Hylia herself in the glorious orange and pink sunsets, in the gentle hum buzz of the forest, the rolling majesty of waves. Life thrums under one’s feet if they walk too far off the paths across Hyrule.

It is no secret that there are spirits that roam the wilds. A select few claim to see lively children of the forest, playful little gremlins with the face of a leaf. More commonly seen are spirits called Blupees, mysterious, their eerie blue glow visible to everyone in Hyrule. No one quite knows their origin, but it is said that they’re the result of pure earthly magic bursting at the seams with heavenly light.

And such light, such divine grace, needed a place to go. It worked its way into the fallen knight’s lifeless body, slowly but surely revitalizing him. Some might say Hylia herself cradled him in the palms of her hands and breathed shimmering life back into his lungs.

The process of revival changed him fundamentally, though it only took a month at most. The knight was robbed of his memories, his body becoming almost unrecognizable. His hair became ghostly white, his skin flowed a gentle bluish hue. He had become a forest spirit with no recollection of the Hylian he once was.

Hyruleans citizens might occasionally see him in dense forests or scorching deserts. He wandered about the lava pools of Eldin for a time. Aimlessly wandering the wilds. Those that saw him called him the Child of the Mountains, believing he had a connection to the elusive Lord of the Mountain that he so closely resembled.

Years passed, and the Child of the Mountains was spotted less and less often. A century after the rise of the Calamity, no one remembered the knight that had fallen in battle. No one noticed the upturned earth of that unmarked grave. No, the nameless knight was lost to time.

The Child of the Mountains remained the topic of folklore all across Hyrule, an otherworldly presence that was so rarely spotted. But things began to change for the forsaken kingdom. Divine Beasts stopped their rampaging, towers and shrines went from vicious orange to soothing blue. Still, no one connected the dots until Calamity Ganon itself was defeated and the fabled Child of the Mountains was spotted after the battle bearing a familiar blessed sword.

He disappeared completely after the war was won.

Somehow, the princess had survived the century long battle against the malice, and she had been quick to order a search for her knight. But that’s the thing about spirits: if they don’t want to be found, there’s just no finding them.

Still, the princess would not give up on him. Not again. She’d seen him, briefly, after he’d slain the monstrous Calamity. Her knight was still in there, she was sure of it. She will stop at nothing to bring him home.

. . .

Some notes!

• Wild is kind of sort of immortal. He can’t die unless he’s killed. (He’s been alive for a century and is vibing)

• Wild spent the entire century between waking up and fighting Calamity Ganon just… wandering in the woods like a lost child. Freaks out the locals but eh, he doesn’t really care.

• Of all of the Links, Wild is the least… human. He has no memory of ever being Hylian. All he knows is the wilderness.

• It sounds like bells and chimes when he walks, just like a Blupee!

• LOVES shiny things! Distracted very easily

• Mostly nonverbal. He communicates mostly with his antennae, though he doesn’t really have anyone to communicate with. He can speak telepathically with other spirits and the Great Deku Tree.

• Flora never expected him to come back. He was dead for good. But when a spirit with the same face as her fallen knight suddenly arrives at the castle after a century to kill the thing she’s been fighting, she was in disbelief. She recognized him which freaked him out and he ran away.

• He’s been wearing the clothes that he was buried in this WHOLE TIME.

• Subject of Hyrulean folklore, everyone has different thoughts on what he is. They all know he’s a spirit. But is he friendly? A protector to the people? Guardian of the wilds? He’s seen pretty rarely and encounters are short and quiet. Sometimes he’ll stare at the person, sometimes he’ll try to fight them, sometimes he’ll just run away.

• Chaos gremlin

• I love him very much

Original Character Sheets!

Sky’s Origin!

Time’s Origin!

#my art #the legend of zelda #art #chain as cryptids au #i cannot write to save my life #I hope you enjoyed it anyway #CAC origins #breath of the wild #character death #cryptid wild #cryptid Flora #links meet au

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veliseraptor · 2 months

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Top five spiciest untamed opinions!

man, I've been in my own little corner of fandom for long enough that I feel like I struggle a little to parse what is spicy of my opinions and what isn't, but here's a go at it

The Untamed is a show with complex, morally grey characters that's telling a slightly different but not inherently inferior story. Maybe I'm just a bit defensive about this, and I have with time come to appreciate a lot of things about the novel over the way they play out in the show, but The Untamed was the first version of the story that I fell in love with and I think at least some of the criticisms of it overstate the degree to which it morally simplifies the story. I think, whether because of requirements of censorship or other reasons, that the moral messiness of the story is subtler, I don't think it's absent, and while Jin Guangyao in particular falls victim to a pretty intense villain edit the narrative still has plenty of sympathy for him (even if the audience, all too often, does not). I think it's telling a slightly different story (as others have discussed), but I think it's a strong adaptation that still works with the underlying themes of the text.

However, that being said, The lessening of Wei Wuxian's culpability, as in the introduction of the second flautist, weakens his character. I feel like the character of Wei Wuxian as we see him in The Untamed still has the recognizable flaws of the character from the novel - I think the degree to which they're sometimes claimed to be toned down is overstated, which I think I've written some about before. He's still at least a little arrogant, causes problems, has a definite temper, and doesn't always respect other peoples' choices, among other things. But what The Untamed does do is remove some of his culpability, or at least temper it - both for Jin Zixuan's death and the massacre at Nightless City, which are two moments that contribute to a strong tragic arc in the first life, which makes for a more powerful (imo) arc in the second life. Removing, or at least lessening, Wei Wuxian's culpability for Jin Zixuan's death and Jiang Yanli's death makes him more a victim of circumstance than of his own human flaws, and at least for me, a character who is doomed by their own flaws is a far more compelling one than one who just happens to fall victim to outside forces. It makes him, I would argue, more passive and less of an active force, and I think the culpability for those two deaths - and the loss of control that causes it - makes for a more powerful narrative than that of a man who is victimized by someone else's actions.

Jin Guangyao was a good Chief Cultivator. I see people talk about him as though he was corrupt and evil and just plotting all the time, but the Bad Things™ he does mostly happen before his tenure as Chief Cultivator and, even taking those into account, have a limited impact on the world at large (with the exception of Nie Mingjue's death, but even that I would argue has more personal repercussions than broader political ones). As far as his responsibility for the cultivation world at large, we have no evidence prior to his downfall that he is negatively perceived by people, except for the fact of his birth/origins.

this is more MDZS-related than Untamed specific, but: MXTX deserves praise for writing "problematic" and messy queer sex, but it's just not hot. I don't have a whole lot to add on this one, but one of my least favorite parts of some corners of The Untamed fandom are people who are thoroughgoing MXTX antis who are quick to cry about the ~problematic~ aspects of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian's sex life (which, honestly, I think are overstated a lot of the time, as is the weirdness of the sex scenes); however, in my opinion, the sex scenes as they stand just aren't very sexy, and I don't think that's intentional (as it arguably is in SVSSS). The sex scenes may be a shortcoming in the text, perhaps, but not the one certain people think it is.

this is again a stronger argument in the novel but I think it's present in the show as well: Jin Guangyao and Wei Wuxian are "there but for the grace of god" foils, but not in the sense of Jin Guangyao being "Wei Wuxian if he made bad moral choices" but in the sense of "who Wei Wuxian could've been if his circumstances were different." I've definitely written about this before and how much it drives me nuts the way people treat narrative foils in this story in general as Goofus and Gallant style duos, but this is a specific one. I think Jin Guangyao is an example of a story that runs alongside Wei Wuxian's, but ends in a different place, and I think the story isn't saying that he ends in that place because of something inherently worse about Jin Guangyao, but because of the way his circumstances happen to diverge from Wei Wuxian's in specific key ways. In some ways his ending is even a near beat-for-beat rewrite of Wei Wuxian's death, and Wei Wuxian receives the grace of a second life not because of any inherent merit, but actually because of his bad reputation. I think this goes for Xue Yang, too, actually.

I absolutely know I'm forgetting things and there are probably things back in my bitchy opinions tag that I could dig out, but here's at least a few that came to mind.

#conversating #maester of spreadsheets #lise has opinions #none of these feel so bitchy they need to go in the bitchy opinions tag but just in case i think i'll #lise's aggressively bitchy opinions about irrelevant and unimportant matters #lise memes #top five meme #the sad queer cultivators show

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vampiretendencies · 1 year

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im starting to scar, im going through phases !

summary; he does everything he can to push you away, leading to his downfall. warning; angst, sadness, there’s no happy ending, mentions of events in seasons 3, chateau still exists, mention of throwing up, proorfread but may find mistakes. pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader. authors note; decided to take another approach because not everything always ends with hugs and kisses. wishing you all the best. hope the ending doesn’t seem rushed, requests are open. creds to gif owner. this is based on phases by chase atlantic, and lyrics of the song will be used. there’s a spotify link below, if you’d like to listen and read. lyrics are in bold italics.

It's been 24 hours

I'm getting impatient

I'm sorry you're scared

The feeling is shared

I'm sorry I'm dangerous

Ever felt that feeling when an impending doom is bound to strike?

Like when you know the earths about to cave in, and all you can do is let its currents drag you under.

The calm before the storm, maybe.

And JJ can feel it creeping in.

The sensation that he knows he won’t make it past a certain life span with his lifestyle, and he’d be damn if he’d drag you down with him.

Hell, he wasn’t sure if he’d make it past twenty five, at this rate. Between reckless trips to South America, and nearly dying in Barbados multiple times.

You were his last remnant of hope in life, and now he can’t even hold onto that anymore.

The filaments of love that intercepted his veins at just the sight of you, he couldn’t bare it.

He couldn’t bare so much love.

Or at least, he refuses to allow himself to.

The instance now is being in bed but miles away. And he’d been doing this for around two weeks now— throwing away the most valuable year of his life for a notion, or just the thought that you’d be better off. That you’d be better off without his baggage, his issues, without him.

He’s facing the wall, his boxer-clad frame away from you. Whilst his knees curl into his stomach, because he can’t see your face and he definitely can’t look you in the eye. He fears the longer that he lets you ponder his heart, and graze him gently that he’ll back out. Due to the fact that he’s been toying at the idea for two weeks. You stomach it, thinking maybe he’s had a bad day— still, you trace your fingers tips on the freshly tanned skin of his back hoping maybe it would comfort him. Or lull him into explaining his shift in attitude.

But he’s been like this long enough now, what if he’s going through a funk, you thought. But in reality it was you praying to yourself about what you kept denying.

He wouldn’t, would he?

He lets you touch him, he lets it linger like a cut to flesh, searing, burning, stinging at the same time. Recognizing the familiar pattern, curving and then going straight down to form the shape of microscopic hearts. He wants to stay in this moment, freeze time, so that the possibility of you despising him forever wasn’t something he’d have to deal with. So, he melts into the comforting touch, reminiscing on the times that it brought him infamous joy and not gracious amounts of sorrow.

He knows he can’t keep you.

He knows that you can’t continue to stick around.

In his own fucked up opinion anyway.

“What’s the matter J?” His insides clinch at the nickname, one only you typically called him. It was reserved for you in fact. And you weren’t a plain idiot, after a little over a year together, knowing when somethings off with your partner tends to become prominent.

But this … this was true anguish.

Mental anguish, if you will.

Grieving and missing you, when you’re a fingertips touch away. The great fall of JJ Maybank and Y/n was to ensue, and he was preparing himself for it. Realizing no amount of preparing could heal the hole that losing you will cause.

“M’okay bab-“ the pet name on the tip of his tongue comes to a hault, as if he were about to insult you by saying it. Something that he says out of habit and instinct that he couldn’t shake. God, he just wanted to call you baby in constant rotation. It was routine, but it couldn’t be any longer.

He has to follow through on every step of this path to breaking up with you, and if icing you out is what he has to do then he will. He solely wanted to sulk in his last few pleasing memories he’ll ever have with you. Beginning to break his ways in this relationship with you piece by piece. Hoping it would make the leaving part all the more ‘easier’.

Whilst you were oblivious, he was dying inside.

“M’okay,” he repeated, and stuck with it.

What the fuck was that? You thought.

Your facial features scrunched up in disgust at the dry response, the boy that was involved and cared what you had to say even about the stupidest things, usually; has a tone of no interest. He couldn’t see you, hence his back being turned away from you, but he felt the reaction through your stopped movements on the subtle skin of his back.

A grave dispense of heartache is upon them.

You say we should talk, it's falling apart

I hate when you say this

I feel like a child

I know it's denial

I'm going through phases

As anyone’s mind would wander in this situation, you felt unwelcome. Unwelcome in JJ’s room at the chateau. Unwelcome near JJ. The entirety of your presence seemed as if it wasn’t needed here.

“Something has to be JJ.”

Has to be.

It rung in his hears, and struck a sutured nerve or two. Because he didn’t want you to know something was wrong, or to even be let in that realm of his thoughts. You also have this agitation towards JJ right now as he’s treating you as if you don’t exist.

When at one point you were the only one in a room full of people.

You pull him back by his shoulder, forcing this fulfillment of eye contact. A weeping tear glazing over his eyes, a sob he’s been holding in the short hour you’d been over. He can’t keep it together but, he’s trying for the life of him. Even if you hadn’t seen the isolation of a salty tear forming, you sense the numbness in his features. Caught so off gaurd, mouth parted and all he can do is stare up at you with no emotion.

The boy you love was eons away.

Meanwhile that boy is compelling himself to not love you anymore.

And no, he didn’t want to see you go. You were his lifeline—on this constant high that he couldn’t come down from. You kept him high in the ways weed didn’t.

Knowing that he’ll be at this record breaking low when you’re gone makes him want to spiral. But, he’s not what’s preeminent for you, he’s not what’s best— anymore antics with the Pogues and he’ll ruin you. He’s baffled it’s even lasted this long.

“Why’s something have to be wrong?”

You’re propped up on your knees to the mattress, his blonde tresses are sprawled out against the pillow just as beguiling as he’s always been. Yet, not the same.

“I don’t know you just haven’t … you haven’t-“

“I haven’t what?” He bites back, sheer irritation. Adding to fuel of the irate frustration that’s being built upon brick my brick. One push and it’s all coming down. Though he needed his last few weeks with you to be pure elation, he can’t help but detach himself already. Protecting you, all whilst protecting his own sauntering feelings.

“You haven’t touched me in weeks JJ … everytime we kiss it feels like you don’t mean it. I can’t be the only one putting in effort here.”

You were right, going from his hands all over you anytime, anyplace so, a love language of utmost physical touch— to absolutely zilch. Not even a hug or a hand hold. Essentially stuck to you like a sticker, that sticker has fallen off, been stepped on, ripped, and trampled in rain.

JJ wanted to slam his head against the wall until it was fucking blue. He had to act like he wasn’t phased, a douchebag or an asshole. Quietly hoping it would make the letting go less intense. Lovelorn, at most.

He’s wrong. So utterly wrong.

What is he doing? — in a larger sense.

“Anything else you wanna’ complain about?”

End it now or hold off longer? JJ battled with himself again.

Get lost in love or escape it? If you love her let her go. You know this won’t be good for her. You’re such a fuck up. And again.

Your eyebrows knit together, you hadn’t known what you were saying could be taken out of context into a complaint. You’d let him be out of tune for long enough, you bit your tongue long enough, it was long enough. A stranger could tell something was desperately wrong.

You just wanted him to fix it.

You just wanted JJ.

“I wasn’t complaining J,” You pleaded almost, a quiver could be sensed in your voice. “I-I feel like you’re disgusted with me … like are you even attracted to me anymore?”

His irritation grows as that could never be a possibility. His undying attraction towards you has multiplied since kindergarten. You were the first one to notice him that school year— his dad gave him a pack of crackers for lunch, not caring about the child’s well being. And you, shared a PB&J with him, it’s been his favorite since that day.

And so have you.

You knew that, often taking advantage of it by getting your way with him, whenever need be.

If only you knew what he’s struggling to get off of his chest now. He can’t even believe there’s a version of his world without you in it.

“Please shutup.”

Is all he can suffice, as it’s minimal and not giving away too much. But it still pings at the strings of your heart all the same. Glaring, he presses a hand to his forehead, thumb and index finger colliding with his temples— to infer that you were giving him a headache on the verge of a migraine.

Tears are now pricking at the crevices of your eyes.

Why is he talking to me like that? You thought.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood tall, your body intensely drenched in the heat of JJ’s lackluster coated tongue.

Passionless so it seems.

You fought the tears wearily, even still they streamed and he held his hands over his eye’s because he can’t stand to see it. He can’t stand to see himself being the cause of those sopping tears— though he would be eventually anyway.

Just not now, he doesn’t know if he can do this. His insides are physically wearing away at the sound. He can’t comfort you as he would, due to it wringing the both of you by the neck when it comes to the end. For him it would reel him back in, and make him stay repeatedly. And you, it’s going to be all the more difficult to let go.

You known each other since before you knew how to spell, how do you let go of that?

“… t-then are you fucking around with someone? You’re cheating on me aren’t you?!”

He was astonished such a sin would leave your mouth. You thought it was in his nature to have such relations with another— he’s let your imagination run widely enough.

And he thinks he’s going to throw up— legitimately puke all over his bed, full on having to push you out of the way.

He’d overcome so much to get you, winning you a little over 365 long days ago.

All for what?

For nothing?

To just have you sit here and think the worst of him?

“If you aren’t going to shut the fuck up, you can go.”

Feel like I'm going insane, I'm going through phases

Pharmacy's rotting my brain, I'm going through phases

Heaven is calling my name, I'm going through phases

Oh, oh, yeah

I'm going through phases

He vowed he’d never do this to you, there for each other whilst having no one. Any of this, really, but being spiteful on top of it is making your hands clammy and your mouth dry, Now, he opens his eyes and removes his hands, sat upward as he gestures toward the door. Jaw clenched with a heaving chest, it was a damn insult to call him a cheater. It was agonizing. He’d never made you leave, even in the smallest of arguments he wants to make up seconds after. Cracking jokes about ‘how hot you looked while mad at him.’

After he’s done with you, you’re going to wish he’d cheated.

It’s menacing and erie, the repulsive silence that surrounds the two of you. He’s just fiddling with the rings amongst his fingers. Abruptly brought out of his trance once you leap off of the bed. Yanking his Bait Shop Tee past your shoulders, you throw it at him. It catches wind with hair, plopping him directly in the face, falling into his lap.

He deserves it.

He stood by not looking whilst you changed like he perpetually tended to do. You could’ve been the sun, the way fuming exhaust radiated off of your body. Slipping your head into your sweatshirt, whilst rummaging through his floor for your shorts— doing so quickly, if you were to look back on it you’d recall every moment of this painstakingly long conversation.

He cups his face into his own hands at the ‘last’ thing you’d say to him. Watching you rush past his door.

“If I wanted to be in a relationship by myself, I would’ve just stayed single.”

Collapsing into your side of the bed beside him, he takes in your remaining scent. So sensual, he wouldn’t get that satisfying scent again. Grasping the open flesh of his chest in misery. He’s torturing himself.

You’d eat those words.

Swim in the dark

The water is changing

Floating away, the fear in my brain

The feeling is fading

Kie frantically called you in urgency, days later. There was a plan to unfold, one that would be the cause of you resenting the Pogues for years to come. They were closer with JJ, you didn’t have as much freewill as the four of them did, or so much as you didn’t have the guts to leave your parents wondering where you are for days on end. You didn’t fit, the outcast of the group. The Pogues accepted you as you were but there was a tendency, that they too would agree, to gravitate towards JJ.

Even when the two of you were pining and it was all 'no Pogue on Pogue macking," blah blah blah, they never intervened.

You were JJ’s girl.

They knew it before you did.

Alike, with how they knew the outcome of the blood curdling screams to follow.

The elongated porch of the Chateau is fully occupied like how it normally would be, but there is no JJ.

Unbeknownst to you, he's on the other side of the front door. The same front door that's attached to the porch, and tended to be used for eavesdropping. JJ’s back is against it, clothing hanging off of his feeble frame. He didn't have an appetite, didn't have the motivation to shower, or even comb a hand through his hair.

What use to have meaning, is now meaningless without you.

This is what JJ intended, to have the Pogues did his dirty work. And after seeing JJ's current condition they obliged without much convincing. He didn't mind his friends getting caught in the crossfire, because as long as they were involved you'd detest them too. Meaning, there'd be no trace of you here.

He didn't have the fucking guts to break it to you himself; always caving and falling back under your spell.

Having the Pogues do it is more reasonable for the both of you, or at least he thought. You loathing all of them wouldn't make you come around and that was a sacrifice JJ had to make, for he feared if he saw you again, he'd become a ghost. Already a shell of the person he use to be.

Utter captivation and enrapture would be no more. He'd abhor himself if he let you witness another bloddy nose, another 'help me I'm in trouble text message', another close loss of life.

He beckoned he was much too treacherous and threatening to your purely refined soul.

There's life before you, during you, and now he has to attempt an after.

Here goes nothing.

You say it's not me

I hate when you say this

I'm falling apart

I'm starting to scar

I'm going through phases, yeah

Sheer exhaustion nearly causes you to miss a step, hand gliding with the screen door of the Chateau. You hadn't slept a wink, yearning for a sign that JJ still was still lathered in infatuation along with you, but there hadn't been. Two and two were coming together, and you weren't heedless no, just in open denial. In fact, you were willing to forgive the events of days ago to relive any sentiment with your boyfriend.

But that wasn't going to happen.

Not in this eternity, but he hopes to see you in the next.

With each inch you take towards the couches atop the porch that Kie, John B, and Pope were sat on, the atmosphere was muggy and rancid of thick air, fitting. The floral printed couch was where JJ hesitantly kissed you for the first time, slow and everlasting. Maybe if you touched your lips one more time, you'd be able to feel the linger of it again.

Kie is pacing with a box in her hands now upon seeing you closer in vison and throats are clearing as you stop in your tracks to end your approach on them. The box is lidded and closed, so the contents were unknown. Her lips curve into a sympathetic smile.

Fuck, you knew the end.

They were told to make it short and sweet, and at the sound of Kie's voice conversing with yours JJ perks up like a little dog that’s awaiting a treat. Except this was no treat.

Far from it.

"What's the emergency you called about?" You question, noting nothing of an emergency. Pope and John B are peering down at the cracked wooden boards below, allowing Kie to soften the blow. "And where's JJ-"

"He told me to give this to you Y/n."

You take the cardboard box that's planted into your hands, lifting its taped down lid your heart might as well have fell to your feet. Grabbing onto something, legs about to give out from beneath you. JJ's palm is flat against the bordered door, skin anticipating to be one with yours again.

Inside the box were shattered pieces of you and JJ combined. Your relationship shriveled into something so little, so insignificant. His film from the specific camera he purchased for photos of you and him aside from his other one. Claiming he wanted to savor every second he spent with you, but now as he can't digest the hard-to-swallow pill. He thinks you would be better off with them. A pink bear, that was dressed in overalls, JJ named it 'pinky', from another various date that the two of you went on to Build a Bear. Neither of you had been as children, healing apart of the untouched inner child in one another. There was the t-shirt you'd given him last year for his birthday, that read I heart my girlfriend, with an image of you in the middle of the heart. You could've went on and on about how each individual item in that box made you feel, but its not the items.

Its why are they in this Goddamn box?

"He doesn't want to be with you anymore."

Kies plummeting, echoing, and spit-firing words are the last thing you hear before the box clashes with the creaking floor of the porch. And you just knew JJ wasn't going to be one to miss out on this 'show' that he created.

Hiding behind a door and sending you off to venture a life without him, was a fucking slap to the face. A punch even, maybe even a headlock.

Who does he think he is to leave you so empty?

To leave you to peace together this mess of used-love?

You're pushing past them in absolute mortifying embarrassment. The infuriation towards them hasn't kicked in yet, but you were sure it would when you'd be left alone and inside you room pondering how you lost everything in a moments glance.

To have the Pogues break up with you for him, was a new rock bottom even for JJ.

Your fist collides with the broad door frequently, ear clasping against it to be met with nothing. JJ's face is buried in his knees whilst he sobbed with aching coughs in between, unable to catch his breath. Matching your cries that are too spilling out. So vulnerable on his own and for his person, or the one that was his person.

The end of all either of you have known.

"You're a fucking coward JJ!"

It seeps off of your tongue and causes a collision like dynamite, the daggers of the Pogues eyes are digging into your back. You continue to drag forward on the door, fist likely drawing blood from how hard its hitting.

"I wish I never even met you, d'you know much better off I'd be?!"

And you wouldn't be, neither of you would be the same. Sharing a love story others dream about when they sleep, and sharing an ultimate ending that most would dread. He whimpers as this is this the exact reaction, he'd been positive about, despite which way he approached it.

'Please don't forget how much I love you baby.'

He speaks to himself, as if you were here. Etching a baby in for the hell of it, the final hoorah.

You've resulted to kicking door, animosity, exasperation, and displeasure roped into one. John B is pulling you away, as he doesn't want the door to come off its hinges. Even still you shove John B away from you, running from the life you once knew.

"Can't believe I let myself love someone like you!"

Someone like you.

What's the point of love if it's not real?

Hanging onto me and in your feels

I can't even tell if it's the same to me

I'm falling apart, I know it's denial

I'm going through phases

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kindlespark · 2 months

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godddddd rereading the canton scene is so fucked up like robin is finally apologising to ramy about hermes with genuine understanding and regret. before that moment he couldn't reconcile babel's bloody foundations with his own enjoyment of it; couldn't grasp how everything he'd worked for had always been this death and exploitation until he saw it with his own eyes. how ramy knows that he's finally opening his eyes to something ramy had known his whole life; that he and robin are tragically, horrifically connected by that web of exploitation, not just through babel but through their own countries that are being forced to serve empire and destroy each other in the process!!! their countries and their lives are irreversibly undeniably caught up in the other's downfall, thrust together by no choice of their own, but by the systems of exploitation that ensure only the british can win. LIKE IS ROBINRAMY NOT THE MOST DOOMED TRAGIC FUCKED UP RELATIONSHIP IN EXISTENCE IM GOING TO THROW UP i just can't get over it i can't get over how robin and ramy as people and as cogs in the imperialist system were given no other choice but to cling to each other in britain, to help each other as the only other boys of colour around, but then to ultimately doom and work against each other and their countries for the crown. im srsly going to pass out and die

#sam speaks #sorry this is just a condensed version of a convo i already had in the babel discord #i just need people to understand how crazy fucked up they are like auhuahuhuauhugahughugha #this is why i don't subscribe to the robinramy soulmate isms like! they shouldn't have had to meet each other like this!!#faizaan saying they're that line in joy ride that's like. we only became friends because we were the only two asian ppl in that town. like #they’re besties bc they were the first boys of colour the other had ever met like its sooooo tragic to meeee #babel

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the-bread-is-dead · 4 months

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(I have a lot of incoherent thoughts about Joel’s finale that I’m gonna try to put into words. I’m sorry in advance if this doesn’t make sense.)

He was the reason for his own loss, again. And this whole session, was a chain of reactions that he set into motion. He accidentally blew himself up, and his dogs. Therefore his dogs were with him, triggering the second explosion in which he lost even more hearts.

He accidentally shoots Bdubs, so Scott is able to kill Bdubs. Giving him more hearts and making it nearly impossible for Joel to kill him.

But using this logic you could also say his whole season has been a chain reaction he set into motion. Really starting in Session 3 when he couldn’t complete his original task. (Which I have mentioned before on here.)

And this happens every season. Joel can’t win. He will always cause his own downfall. I wouldn’t say he’s doomed by the narrative. I would say he’s doomed by himself. The decisions and choices he makes will consistently ensure that he loses.

As much as I want Joel to win one of these seasons. I honestly doubt it will ever happen. No matter how much it seems like he can pull through.

#life series #trafficblr #secret life #secret life smp #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #secret life spoilers

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dantent · 5 months

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𝑴𝒆𝒐𝒘𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 [𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

A/N: This isn't a Raphael x Tav oneshot, it's more of a "Raphael was turned into a cat and Tav takes care of him" oneshot. Goes without saying that this is just a big joke and don't take this seriously. Please.

Blame the discord server for this.

Part 2

Raphael was fuming. He was meant to be the Archdevil Supreme. And yet here he was in the form of a beast, an animal – a cat. Forced, exiled even, to Faerûn. Once a place he schemed at, now his prison. Would he still have any of his humanoid forms, he would’ve already planned his great revenge, alas he was stuck in a ruined house, hiding from something as insignificant as rain. He cursed the entire hells for having such sensitivity to water in his new form.

The Devil never considered how a stray’s life would be, why would he? He was Raphael, a cambion of his rank would never stoop so low to think about the poor animals. If he could he would’ve laughed at that thought. But he wasn’t in any condition to laugh; his brown fur was dirty from being thrown in the mud by the portal that sent him to his doom. Curse Asmodeus, he thought, not even begging will better his fate once I’m crowned. Oh, but would that day even come?

He growled once more. I’m Raphael, he raged, I will not be bested. It seemed he truly believed that, and yet there was a questioning voice in his mind. Raphael shook his now-tiny head, trying to silence it; but he had to admit that his situation was rather unpleasant. He sent another set of curses to his father, Asmodeus but most of all Haarlep. It was them who mocked his “obsession” with cats; earning him this cruel fate. No matter, he had survived far worse and this temporary setback wouldn’t be his downfall. Once he was able to get back, he imagined all the glorious ways he would kill all three of them.

As Raphael watched the rain, thinking of murder, he heard footsteps coming from the street. The Devil, or rather cat, lazily walked towards the entrance, wondering what idiot would run around in a storm. It was his little mouse. Raphael’s eyes widened, hope rising in him. Hope. He scolded himself for thinking of such things now. But Tav didn’t look towards him, in fact they hurried away from the ruined house. In a desperate attempt, Raphael started meowing as loud as he could, hoping Tav would turn back. And they did.

Tav was always a kindhearted person, one he could easily use for his own gains; and today wasn’t any different. The hero of Baldur’s Gate rushed towards him, covering themselves with their cape. Raphael smiled but from the outside it looked like a distorted grimace. His little mouse, how ironic, bent down to pet him. In any other case he would’ve cut their hand off, but he reminded himself that currently Tav was the only person who could help him, again. No matter, he was patient after all. Another hundred years was nothing to him. He could wait.

“Aw, you’re trapped here kitty?” their voice cooed at him. “Come, I can help.”

They took their cape off and tried to make a safe haven for him. Raphael wished he could slash their arms but he wasn’t one to bite the hand that feeds him. Not in this case, at least. He gently settled in Tav’s arms as they did their best to cover him with their cape.

“Are you ready?” they asked before rushing out.

Raphael hissed as a stray raindrop fell on his head. It was a purely instinctual response, one he hated. The Devil spent so much time learning how to hide his reactions in his devil form; now he had to start all over again. Controlling the tail seemed easiest, as it reminded him of his previous one; but these vocal reactions got the best of him. Thankfully Tav seemed to be occupied with something else to notice.

In the meantime Raphael started making his plan. First, his little mouses needed to recognise him. That would prove to be troublesome but if he remembered correctly, and he always did, Raphael could recall them using a potion to speak to animals before. He could only hope that Tav still had a potion. Hope, again. Raphael growled, trying to forget her. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of that stubborn fool.

Before he could even consider where he was, Tav entered a tavern. Raphael didn’t recognize it at first but after looking around, he remembered its name – Elfsong. Not the luxury Raphael was hoping for but he had figured out Tav’s lack of style quite some time ago. His hero rushed upstairs, entering the bedroom. To his surprise, not one soul was present besides his little mouse. Tav set him down before releasing a sigh.

“Oh you poor thing… You’re so filthy.” they shook their head. Raphael growled at them before setting off to find their backpack, and the potion he was looking for.

He didn’t quite care what Tav was doing in the meantime, since he only needed them to understand him. Raphael was already sure that his little mouse would laugh at this horrid fate, which they would pay for, but he had to endure it. For now.

Once he found the bag, he tore the top open with his teeth and claws, and started rummaging around. He hated the messiness of this but he didn’t have another choice as Tav didn’t seem to come after him. Raphael searched around in the hero’s disorganized bag, finding all sorts of things. Scrolls on top of scrolls, food that has been rotting there for at least months, a severed hand. The Devil grimaced just before he set eyes on the potion. He grabbed it with his mouth and began pulling it out before he was snatched away from it.

“No! Bad kitty! Leave my potions alone, they could poison you!” Tav yelled at him with mocked anger. Once Raphael hissed at them, their expression softened. “Now, now, it’s okay. You’re fine but keep it that way, alright?”

Yet they didn’t put him down. Raphael whipped his head around before setting his eyes on a bucket full of water. Coincidentally Tav was walking right in its direction. Oh no. He took the rain and being thrown in the mud but he was not going to be bathed like some animal. Raphael screamed and tossed around in the hero’s arms, scratching every piece of flash he could get his claws on. He despised how weak he was in this form, unable to stop the fool from dumping him into water.

“Stop that!” they shrieked. “Gods you’re so dramatic, I’m just trying to help!”

Tav raised him above them as Raphael stared daggers at the hero. His little mouse shook their head disapprovingly. Clearly they had not figured out who he was yet. And if they have and were just playing with him, Raphael was going to make sure their soul would suffer eternally.

“You remind me so much of Raphael, that bastard.” How dare they. “I think I’m gonna name you after him. Wait, he would probably kill me if he found out. Hm.”

That he will.

“How about Meowphael?” they laughed. “Yeah, that fits.”

Oh, Tav was going to die.

---

Psst, you like Raphael? Why not sign this petition to get a Raphael romance (or at least more content with him)?

#this is my addition to the bg3 writing community #discord chat was chaotic as always and this idea was born #bg3 #bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 tav #bg3 one shot #bg3 fanfiction

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creative-frequency · 4 months

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Some lines to consider for Raphael/reader or Raphael/Tav whichever you'd like~

"I specifically told you not to leave." and "you're not as heartless as you think you are."

Yes, he specifically tells you not to leave, but like fondly. Seems that I have a thing for that pool. Enjoy 😘

Raphael x Gender-neutral!Reader: Damned Fools

A devil, who doesn’t take pride in their professionalism and conscientiousness is a devil soon out of both souls and status. This particular contract that has brought in two succulent souls, however, is starting to feel decidedly like too much work for Raphael’s tastes.

He strides around in an exasperated circle in the House of Hope, barking orders around and smiting anyone aside, who has the ill fortune to cross his path too closely – be it by accident or purpose.

He was too greedy, too eager to claim these two sinning souls, that he didn’t even think to consider that he could be tricked.

The familiar tug of Korrilla using his might makes Raphael pause momentarily and direct his steps hastily to the boudoir.

“You idiot!” he hisses as soon as he crosses the threshold.

Then he sees Korrilla dragging your limp body towards the pool of restoration.

If he had a heart, it would have just stopped beating.

“Alive. Barely,” Korrilla answers the unvoiced question.

Raphael’s nostrils flare with burning fury. This absurd contract would one day be his downfall. Being tasked with protecting your life for mere two souls was clearly not worth the trouble. But he doesn’t really have a choice on the matter. If you die untimely, he is in breach of contract. Not a desirable outcome.

You have become more reckless with each passing year and daring adventure; too trusting that the devil on your shoulder will save you, no matter the threat. Raphael gets a headache just thinking about the contract. His only solace is that mortal lives are so fragile and fleeting. It will take only some decades until he can once again fully focus on something else.

Raphael motions for Korrilla to leave and snaps his fingers to move you into the shallow water. You’re unconscious. He has to be more careful in the future and watch you more closely. Or lock you up in the dungeons, which is starting to sound more tempting with each dip into the pool of restoration you take.

Raphael stands next to you, waiting and waiting. It takes uncomfortably long to hear the pained grunt raise from your throat.

He waits until recognition lights your face – or shrouds it with dread.

“An explanation. Now,” Raphael demands, but the tone is tinged with a hint of relief.

Your head lolls back to look at him. You try a grin, but the devil is not amused.

“The usual. Nice to see you too, Raphael.”

“You fool. You almost doomed us both. Again,” he seethes, but only you could hear the affection seeping from the words. He can never stay mad at you for long, possibly because he might end up strangling you himself.

“I know, thanks for getting me out,” you say and since he glares at you, you add: “Again. Despite what you said last time, you’re not as heartless as you think.”

“You have every intention of going back, don’t you?” Raphael asks, eyes narrowing at your cheekiness, but he leaves the last notion without attention.

“Well, they must miss me terribly,” you reply and start to gather your bearings to get up from the pool.

“You’re not going anywhere yet. Your injuries haven’t healed,” Raphael says in a sharp tone. He can see how laborious your movements are and how the pain still slashes at your body. A damned fool is what you are and he is an even worse one for entertaining you like this. He always has been too soft with you.

Raphael scowls as you haul your body up and on the third try manage to stand upright before him.

“See? All good again,” you smile and wince at a sting of pain.

“I specifically told you not to leave,” Raphael growls.

As engaging as it is to watch you struggle with the consequences of your own actions, Raphael decides he has had enough and pushes you back into the pool of restoration.

#raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x reader #raphael x you #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #asks #requests #sevansheart

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gintrinsic-writing · 4 months

Text

For You

@st-hedge always creates great art but this evening I saw this picture and had to write something for it. hopefully they don't mind i gave it an lu twist for angst (please dm me if that IS an issue)

“They call it the Downfall Timeline,” his husband murmured, features highlighted in resplendent bronze from the sunlight streaming across the balcony. “Those two exist only because of tragedy.”

Link threaded their fingers together. The backs of their hands shined with destiny’s humbling curse. “A tragedy not your doing.”

His husband sighed. Funny, that such a soft sound should come from such a fierce man. “Perhaps. Still, I cannot deny that my soul harbors—”

“We’ve been over this,” Link interrupted. He used his free hand to gently tilt his husband’s face toward him. “You are responsible only for yourself. You cannot control what happened in the past, or in other timelines; only what you choose to do with your life.”

“I want to believe you, I always do. But still, there are times…” His husband trailed off, ashamed to admit what they both already knew to be true.

“It’s alluring, isn’t it?” Link asked knowingly. “That kind of power, just waiting to be picked up? Hells, even darkness has a draw.”

His husband kissed him on the forehead, then the cheek. “Like you’d know.”

Link smiled, then flicked his husband over the heart. “I really do,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Finally, Link got what he wanted; his husband threw his head back and laughed. The world was richer for it. “That’s because you’re some wretched deviant,” his husband teased. “You’re not supposed to—”

“Wretched?” Link interrupted again with a huff, fakely affronted. “You think I’m wretched?”

“I notice you don’t deny your deviancy.”

“Well, nobody’s perfect.” Link poked at his husband’s upper lip, amused by the large canine tooth this revealed. “But I'd argue I have impeccable taste. I’m basically an artist.”

His husband snorted loudly. “If the world depended upon your ability to draw a recognizable stick figure, we’d all be doomed.”

“That’s the rudest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

Link didn’t bother hiding his grin, but his amusement faded altogether when his husband once again glanced at the street below. The Downfall Duo met up with a larger group; nine heroes in total, just like the rumors had warned. They didn’t look like much, but that meant nothing when the goddesses were involved.

“Practically children,” his husband murmured, “yet still they frighten me.”

“Forget them. They’re not here for us.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Gan,” Link said, taking his husband’s face in both hands. “There’s nothing to fear. We turned our backs on that cycle long ago.”

His husband shook his head. “I doubt they’d agree. They’ll sense me soon enough—sense us. The Triforce will see to it.”

Link shrugged. “So what? Let them come. They’ll see for themselves the life we’ve made, how wonderful it is.”

The sun dipped below the rooftops. His husband’s eyes emitted a faint glow when he tilted his head. “And if they decide I’m a threat anyway?”

Link pressed his lips together and hummed, tangling his fingers in his husband’s long red hair. “If it comes to that, I suppose I’ll have to kill them.”

His husband shook his head slowly. “You’d kill Farore’s blessed, your own spiritual kin?”

Link leaned in, his breath ghosting against his husband’s lips. “For you? I’d do terrible, terrible things.”

And Ganondorf could only chuckle as he swept Link up and slotted their mouths together. Everything fell into place as it always did when he had Link like this. “Pray it doesn’t come to that,” he murmured at last, fighting the chill that destiny held over their shoulders.

“They better,” Link told him.

#fanart fic #lu fic #in a very vague sort of way #loz #loz fic #gintrinsic writing #ganlink #ganondorf

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galvanizedfriend · 2 months

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Fic Update: The Wolf III [21/21]

Summary: Months after their return to New Orleans, Klaus and Caroline try to settle into a semblance of normalcy, while Elijah struggles to forgive his brother's sins. But a mysterious prophecy that foretells the downfall of the Mikaelson family brings them all together in a war that will reopen ancient wounds and see each of the siblings doomed: one by friend, one by foe and one by family.

[It's The Originals Season 3, but Caroline had Klaus' baby, now she's a vampire and they are back in New Orleans after a stint in Mystic Falls. It's mostly about Klaroline, obviously.]

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S03E21 The Bloody Crown Caroline wakes up from something that doesn't really feel like sleep. It’s as though her brain disconnected and went into a blackout state for a few hours. She doesn't feel well rested, not even close, but there's a soft tingle chasing across her skin that is oddly soothing.

She blinks out the drowsiness and follows the sensation, finds Klaus tracing the arm she has draped across his middle. It's a feathery brush, an absent-minded movement he probably doesn't even notice he's doing, but it still has the power to awaken butterflies in Caroline's stomach. Even after years, she feels it every time he touches her. Fire at the tips of his fingers.

He's facing away from her, staring at the sliver of daylight trickling in through the curtains, his usual dark and devious look replaced by something weary and distant. Caroline watches him for a long time, trying to peer through the mask of impassiveness, past the glacial ice in his eyes. She hates it when he's like this, lost in the corners of his own mind where she can't follow. With Klaus, that always spells trouble. The anger she knows how to deal with. The barks and snarls she can handle. It's the blank stares, the emptiness and the silence that scares her the most.

Read the full chapter here

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😃 Two updates in less than a week, and TW3 is over. 😃 Who am I, what am I doing with my life? 😃

There are loads of info on the actual story about how this will continue and some other stuff as well. We have reached the 1M words mark and I can't decide if this is impressive or if I have just completely lost control of my life. Either way, thank you so, so much to everyone who had read my long-ass fic and stayed with me through all of this. 💜 It's a mess, but I have loved living in this universe, and I hope some of you have too. 🥰

A special shout-out to my friend @definedareasofuncertainty, who was holding my hand when I posted the very first chapter, almost five years ago, and who is still somehow my friend. 🥹

I hope you guys enjoy it! And as always, your reblogs/comments/kudos mean the world to me, please support your local insane fic writer. 🥹

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fic #klaus x caroline #kc fandom #kcfic #kcfanfiction #the originals rewriting #the wolf universe #yokan writes #holy shit i actually finished this!#can't believe it #no rly i did not think i would #last time using this ugly ass edit yoohoo!#now to find something else lol

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crumbleclub · 11 months

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Thinking about an AU where William gets what he wants... sort of.

Remnant has been perfected. He's biologically immortal, and does not age past his current state. As long as he keeps the remnant flowing, he's also invulnerable; he cannot be killed. (Were the supply to cut off, though, he'd have near-normal vulnerability.)

The family is the way he wants it. Everyone is together. Evan survived the Bite, and everything started falling into place. The kids are immortal, too; they were dosed heavily with remnant while old enough to be useful in different situations, but young enough for William to control: 14, 10, 8.

And the family business is booming. Borrowing from @lonelyfreddles' Saffron Pawn AU, the kids serve as lures– and sometimes killers themselves– to maintain William's steady supply of remnant.

However, it's a ticking time bomb.

Remnant is more effective on children. Even without the boosters William requires, the kids remain almost impossible to kill. They can feel pain and be injured, but they heal quickly, and almost miraculously well. Were they to turn on their father, things would go sour very quickly.

In order to maintain his paradise, William has to keep each of the kids in a state of compliance and usefulness; balancing his own behavior to suit their differences.

Evan is easy enough to scare into obedience, but, when too frightened, he loses much of his ability to be useful. As the youngest, he also serves as the most effective pity-lure, and William can't afford to lose him.

Michael is very difficult to control by force. When threatened with violence, he will always rebel. In order to keep Michael in check, William has to maintain a very convincing, slow-burning manipulation; he needs to starve him of affection enough to make him desperate, but offer up enough to keep him loyal. He has to keep his own guard up, too; a fox can always trick you back.

Elizabeth, ever so eager for her father's approval, is the easiest to control. She's also the biggest threat. She's brilliant and conniving, and her lies are unreadable. Causing her to doubt William's authority could be the key to his downfall.

William Afton's realized dream is doomed to collapse right under his feet.

#family business au #fnaf family business au #this was brought to you by me trying to draw the barbie mugshot meme for all the aftons #tho i got frustrated and stopped so who knows if i'll finish it lol #mike's actual writing #fnaf au #fnaf #michael afton #cc afton #evan afton #william afton #elizabeth afton

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tamaotomoe · 1 year

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observations on yuyuko tanaka and her penchant for playing dudes who die or are on the cusp of death constantly, whether by her own hand or just some silly little fate, and also how it's contrast to rui almost always being blessed with life (that's also given to her by yuyuko's hand or some silly little fate).

or: yuyuko "doomed by the narrative (that she wrote herself)" tanaka + rui "blessed by the narrative (that yuyuko writes for her)" akikaze.

so as said, a while back i noticed that yuyuko's roles are almost all like. guys who brush with death/just outright die die. i went down the roles she has in just her cards and listed them all down on my priv twitter and it looked like:

so a good like. 2/10 roles that don't end badly.

i ended up rereading like. basically almost every rmk story out there, from the earliest ones available and uhm. so.

(purple clouds of the afterworld chapter 5)

(tales of onikurenai chapter 2)

(shibahama final chapter)

all of these are from events pre-downfall (not sure about shibahama but i def know the other ones are). yuyuko's always been fond of tragedies.

obviously this manifests in a lot of her scripts (ghost patrol story rerun, shinsengumi rinpuden, her influence on arcana arcadia's script, and most importantly, rinmeiki), but what i think is interesting is that she saves a lot of the worst fates for herself.

in ghost patrol, whilst fumi and ichie's characters have some tragic interpersonal drama/trauma, it sorts itself out by the end. but yuyuko's character's entire existence attracts danger, death at every turn.

shinsengumi rinpuden has her portray okita soji. fumi describes the story to yuyuko as such:

(okita soji yuyuko bond story 1)

the romanticization of destruction. that feeling of knowing that you died a glorious and honourable death. and what role does yuyuko give herself? what does she do with herself?

die in the antithesis of it. if read as fumi described, the most pathetic death she could have.

i'd go into rinmeiki but that's a beast all on its own, and is mostly rooted in the characters themselves, and not character exploration through them acting as something else. there isnt even much of a script of it ingame, in the sense of the rest of the other examples, so i'll move onto arcana arcadia.

whether a quirk of the fact she was picked as the magician and it was planned from the beginning, or the fact that she is part of the scriptwriting team and therefore has some measure of control on her character, the magician has one of the worst fates in aa, quite literally selling her soul to the devil and damning herself to hell forever, all done by her own hand. she willingly damned herself.

interestingly in these same stories, the things she gives to rui's roles, is life.

kiichi miroku in ghost patrol is still quite equal to abe no suiren, but it's not her that's constantly attracting ghosts.

hajime saito was one of the two survivors of shinsengumi rinpuden. while he didn't have a role to play alive unlike fumi's nagakura shinpachi, hajime saito was still left alive, and given to rui.

now, the hanged man. which at this fucking point is hilariously on the nose, as the magician damns herself to ensure that the hanged man lives and changes the world, a human saving humans and not humans relying on god to save them. she gives up her hopes, her life AND her afterlife for him. the caveat being, if he decides to accept her offer of "becoming the main character". which he does. and while the path he chose by taking up the magician's offer still leads him to hell, he still leaves with his life and a goal to chase, a world to change. it is the magician that pushes the hanged man forward into making something of himself, of the world he lives in, and she herself is only one little spark to light the fire.

indeed, yuyuko is constantly reliving the transience of the stage that she is so fond of. but she does not extend this transience to rui. yuyuko is happy to die over and over again, but rui. rui must live. well, of course she must, yuyuko loves her.

like the hanged man and the magician, yuyuko would give up her life for someone so dear to her.

...

so anyways remember when ichie said this in arcana arcadia?

there's a difference in the cyclical deaths that yuyuko and fumi are portraying though, in that fumi dies over and over again to try and regain the past, whilst yuyuko plants her feet firmly in the present and dies over and over again for someone else's future.

she moves forward only when rui does, and in magician stories she does even tell nana that she'll decide to be rui's producer so she can make her into the best stage girl that akikaze rui can be. but what about her? she seems to understand that stage girls must keep moving on, keep moving forward towards the future with unparalleled hunger, but as of right now it appears that she has put herself in an odd stasis. she moves when rui does, she dies when rui does. it's an existence as a stage girl that cannot entirely continue.

this dependence can keep one going for a while, but it cannot last forever. could yuyuko move forward without rui walking the path beside her? could rui move forward without yuyuko's silent support? if the ties between them are severed, would they bleed out and die?

well, only time will tell. i patiently await what story is to be told in their futures.

though i will say, to be separated like this isn't entirely a tragedy. what they've gained from each other will follow them for the rest of their lives. even apart, everyone is still together.

tl:dr: hey little dude. why do you keep dooming yourself in narratives that you have control over. and why do you keep giving the big guy you love narratives that favor his life.

#revue starlight #starira #rui akikaze #yuyuko tanaka #yuyurui #ruiyukko #Emile begins casting Coherence.#i wanted to say more abt how yuyuko loves to melt into the background and basically be an invisible storyteller #and also how she's uhm. very much nana's protege. in a potentially bad way depending on how this goes in the future #but it's already getting so long and it's already getting so late so you're having this for now.

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hazardouslesbian · 10 months

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another interesting piece to the dichotomy between Clark and Lex is they both have their issues with letting people get close to them due to their own respective traumas, but it manifests in different, almost opposite ways, which imo ends up being their downfall

Lex obviously has this air of “I’m a Luthor, I’m secretive, I won’t let anyone close to me” that he’s developed from a combination of lionel’s fucked up parenting, and a life of keeping secrets to protect the people he cares about, but actually looking at his actions the idea that he’s secretive and closed off or whatever starts to feel like a facade. In practice (especially with Clark) Lex is so desperate for connection that he lets his walls down almost every chance he gets. Like if I recall correctly in the show he really doesn’t shy away from talking about his childhood trauma whenever Clark asks. Plus Lex is pretty honest throughout the show, especially to Clark. There’s several moments from the start where other characters THINK Lex is lying, but in the beginning it’s almost always Lex being scapegoated.

And I think the idea that he’s a closed off person that’s hard to reach isn’t just something he tries to present to the world, I think it’s also a lie lex tells himself to convince himself he has any sense of power over who he chooses to let in, because in a community where he IS constantly the scapegoat choosing to let people in and connect to them opens him up too way too much opportunity for disappointment and heart break, so he has to convince himself he’s able to stay disconnected and keep people at arm’s length, but in reality I really don’t think he’s that capable of keeping people out? Like if someone genuinely wants to connect with him I don’t think he has the power to stop himself from letting that happen at LEAST in the early seasons of the show

Clark on the other hand feels like the kind of guy who should be an open book, and in a lot of ways he is! he’s earnest and kind and can make friends with just about anybody, including the widely distrusted Lex Luthor, but he’s got a secret that he’s been told his whole life he has to guard at all costs for the sake of his survival. And his fears of ending up on a lab table tortured and experimented on are reasonable so you can’t really fault him for being dishonest with everyone. But Clark clearly doesn’t want to be this secretive aloof guy, he’s lonely and displaced, the sole survivor of a world he never knew. He’s similarly desperate to be this trustworthy, friendly guy, with deep relationships with the people in his life. So he tries to compromise and instead lets people in just enough for it to feel devastating when they put together that he’s undeniably lying to them.

It nearly ruins every one of Clark’s relationships at some point in the show, but ultimately his other relationships survive it, his relationship with Lex can’t

the real reason they’re “doomed by the narrative” is Lex is so desperate to connect with Clark, and Clark is incapable of ever fully letting that happen, even though he wanted to!! and in the same way Lex tries to be okay with their “incomplete” relationship because he wants to be understanding and doesn’t want to ruin his relationship with Clark but in the end he can’t do it either!!

#smallville #smallville meta #lex luthor #sv lex luthor #sv Clark Kent #I wish I was better at words bc this feels like I put my thought in a blender and poured in on a tumblr post #hopefully it’s understandable !!!#also I feel like the common interpretation is lex has all these walls built up #and I think he DOES I just think they have the structural integrity #of a child’s paper mache art project #meanwhile I genuinely think Clark has walls of steel #SORRY THIS IS SO LONG #if u read it all I love u #I am incapable of being succinct

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maspers · 5 months

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Ranking the Miracucast by how they'd react to being chosen as the next holder of One For All

Marinette: She would scream and cry and do everything in her power to avoid becoming the next Symbol of Peace. She would then proceed to be one of the most beloved and powerful Heroes the world has ever seen. 9/10

Alya: Depends on when she gets the Quirk. Early Seasons Alya is all about fame and branding, and she'd be loved by the populace as a hero but make a decent amount of rookie mistakes. Late Seasons Alya would be way more competent as a One For All user, but she also knows how to keep things subtle. I can see her becoming an Underground Hero like Eraserhead. Either way, 7/10

Adrien: Yes. 10/10

Nino: He would be very confused as to why he's being chosen, but if his friends were in danger he'd do it. Would much prefer to focus on his music than hero work, and as such would be known for the former more than the latter. 3/10

Chloe: She would try so, so, so hard to be the ultimate superhero that everyone loves. Unfortunately we saw how that went down in canon. She has the potential to great things, but motives will always be a serious problem for her. 4/10

Sabrina: Getting One For All might be what it takes to get her out of her shell. She'd never reach the fame and reputation that All Might and Deku have, but she would treat her powers with utmost respect and very few people would have bad things to say about her as a hero. 7/10

Mylene: She would be very confused, and very scared, and honestly would probably reject the Quirk outright. If forced to take it she'd be great, but I just can't see her wanting to hold on to it. She prefers to change the world in other ways. 3/10

Ivan: Everyone would doubt him due to making assumptions, but he would surpass them all and come into his own as a beloved and respected hero, albeit one that's pretty intimidating. He wouldn't really focus on quirks other than the super strength, but hey, it worked for All Might! 8/10

Rose: Be afraid. Be very afraid. 6/10

Juleka: Guaranteed to be more of the Underground hero type. Possibly might go full vigilante. She would use the Quirks very differently than most would expect, so people won't make the connection to past One For All holders. She does not want to have a body count, but definitely has one. 6/10

Kim: Kim is a total doofus who would immediately gain a rep as a reckless hero who causes lots of collateral damage but makes up for it by just trying really hard. Deep down he will feel unworthy and self-conscious. Local Himbo has internal turmoil and Does Not Deserve It. 5/10

Max: Would reject the Quirk outright and only accept it in the most dire of circumstances. Max does not want a messy complicated Quirk like One For All. Max likes simple and efficient, stuff he can manipulate from the get go. One For All is not simple. Give it to someone else. 0/10

(side note: while Max does not want One For All, Markov absolutely does, and finding a way to give Markov One For All would make for an interesting challenge. But Max still isn't taking it.)

Alix: Would politely decline taking it. Because she's already received it (and passed it on after engaging in brief shenanigans with it) in the future, and knows it is not her battle to fight in the present. Alix/10

Nathaniel: Please let this poor boy have some sleep. He is very tired and very angry and accepted the Quirk on impulse and really doesn't want to do this. Eventually manages to figure out his niche being a artist/spraypaint hero (Alix helps), and may or may not accidentally trigger the downfall of a corrupt government. 7/10

Lila: She obtained it under false pretenses and we are all doomed. There's a slim chance she'll do some hero work for the sake of her image, but like. The cons will definitely outweigh the pros. This was a mistake. 1/10

Luka: Accepted One For All during a time of great need, and knew the moment he received it that it was something Important. He puts on a front of being chill, but treats his work as a Hero with the utmost of seriousness and will do what has to be done. Like his sister, he would actively strive to not have a body count, but definitely would have one. 9/10

Kagami: She's a superhero with a sword. Awesomeness is the default. She will have no idea what she is doing but like. She has a sword. Stuff is getting done. 7/10

Marc: Look, you know Worm? You know Legend? One For All Marc would be like Legend except less hunk and more bishonen. The fangirls and fanboys will rejoice. Marc does not want all the attention, but he has it anyway. 6/10

Ondine: Kim accepts his role as the ultimate trophy boyfriend. Ondine would be competent, but she would also create even more collateral damage. 5/10

Aurore (New!): If there's one thing she knows, it's branding. She may not be known as a particularly powerful hero, but her branding would be top notch. When people figure out she's the latest successor she will OWN it and turn it into more branding. 5/10

Felix: Was likely offered One For All by someone who thought he was Adrien, and accepted it under that pretense. Would do a good job as a hero (and would give Adrien the credit in the process) but would figure out how to use all the Quirks very quickly and have a gig as a vigilante going on under a different identity, using different quirks to keep people in the dark. Very sus, Felix. You can be better than this. 2/10

Zoe: Look the populace would pick up on the fact that she's blonde and associated with America and immediately assume she's related to All Might. That's just going to happen. All Might will basically have to end up adopting her, if he's still around. She does not like this, but makes it work. 6/10

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