#even if it doesn't exist any more. they still go down to the river even though it's dry....

[sixtymortars]

sidsledge x the river

is a dream a lie if it don't come true? or is it something worse?

vote sidsledge today!

once again a special thanks to tierney @kbsd for the clips <3

[cuinaminute229]

Tremble, little lion

pairing: Agatha x Rio x reader

summary: A request from Death herself can change so many things. A path already set is altered when Rio comes to you with words that make it so hard to refuse her.

a/n: I'm alive! This has been in my drafts forever and I keep rewriting the first chapter so I just decided I'm going to just post it. So here ya go :)

part 2

...

“I would like for you to look after someone for me.”

Rio comes to you with this request as the sun kisses the treetops. It’s a cloudy afternoon. You’ve just returned from a nearby river, a basket full of berries and a book in one hand.

You frown at her request. “Where are you going?”

As far as you know there’s no one Rio trusts that much, let alone you. Especially you. You’re just a witch, a coven-less witch at that. Why would she ask this of you?

It’s only your peculiar use of the craft that lets you see her and it’s only Rio herself that stays long enough to be known.

She doesn’t look away at your question, she doesn’t back down. She clears her throat and when she responds, her voice is steady. “There is someone waiting for me. I promised him an adventure. I don’t know how long we are going to be gone.”

Rio moves her hands behind her back as she waits. Her cloak is the deep color of the forest at dusk and her hood is down. She watches you with a guarded look and would almost worry you if you didn't know who Rio is.

“You trust me that much?” You ask her after a moment. You haven't seen Rio in months which you know is no time for her but it's not the same for you. You're used to being alone, used to her spontaneous comings and goings but this feels like a request too big for you.

“I trust you enough.” She gives you a nod and yet she still doesn't move. “I wouldn't ask if I didn't feel this would be necessary.”

You look her over for just a moment and then you set your basket and book down into the grass and take a step closer to her.

She looks exactly the same which doesn't startle you, you know Rio. You know who she is. But this request, it's new and strange.

“Are you okay?” That is all you will allow yourself to ask. Because Rio doesn't let anyone pry, she barely gives either way and yet you've learned to read her in ways that words do not say.

She gives you a small nod but no smile. No words. She looks distant and tired. Rio looks like she doesn't want to be on this plane or existence.

You make a choice that's full chance. You walk over to her, closing the distance with small steps. The moment you are close enough to reach out and touch her, you wait.

You don't ask what's happened, it's not your place. But you know Rio. You've known her for years. She's a phenomenal green witch, she's an interesting mentor, and you would even consider her a friend.

“Tell me the truth and I will agree.”

Rio, since showing up, finally smiles. She tilts her head and lets her shoulders relax. “He is special. The one waiting for me. He is young and bright and his mother is a force to be reckoned with.” She glances away, towards the tree line and shakes her head.

When she steps towards you, you listen. You wait for her.

“I walk through death like it's home. I see families, empires and kingdoms all die. There are rules to what I do.” Rio glances back at you and her eyes are as dark as the night sky without stars. “But this, I can't break any more rules. I can't bend or stretch, I can't do anything. I feel helpless.”

She takes a breath that is unnecessary and closes her eyes for just a moment. And this time you do move, you step up right in front of her and you pull her into a hug that you know she needs.

Rio's touch is like a dip in a freezing lake and still you pull her closer. She buries her face into your neck and clings to you with a strength you always forget she has.

He's special. That's what she said. You can only guess how special from what she’s just told you. Rules, broken and bent.

Rio doesn't break the rules. She's a stickler for rules. He must be incredibly special. You don't say anything as you hold her, no words can make whatever happened better, you know this.

Rio doesn't cry. You've never seen her cry. But now, you hear her as she fights with emotions that are too complex for you to understand. And still you hold her steady, a silent anchor.

When she pulls back, a small sniffle makes her nose scrunch up and you find yourself brushing your fingers under her eyes to wipe at her tears. She does not protest, she doesn't move away.

Rio closes her eyes and just breathes.

It's as your hands brush to cradle her jaw, her fingers digging into your waist and brows furrowed, do you wonder if she has no more tears to cry. “Whatever you need. I am here.” You tell her with a whisper.

“You are too good.” She steps back and opens her eyes as your touch falls away. Rio's eyes are like liquid coal, so dark.

You know she wants to leave, gather her footing away from you. The small tilt of her head towards the l forest is a subtle tell you know well. But there's a tugging at your chest that tells you not to let her leave. Not like this.

“Rio,” Her name on your lips is barely a whisper, almost a plea and she turns back to you with a frown. You want to reach for her, you want to take her hands into yours and let your touch ground her. “Stay, just for tonight.”

When she glances past your shoulder you know she's looking at the cabin. The place Rio helped build.

Her touch is everywhere. The flowerbed that sits on either side of the stairs, the two rocking chairs that sit on the porch, even the small table that usually holds carving tools and whatever project Rio was working on at the time.

It's been months since you’ve seen her and yet she's everywhere in the place you call home.

“I can make you some tea.” You add when she is quiet for too long. Then a thought comes to mind and you smile. Rio waits for you to say what you're thinking. “You have to meet Tom. You're going to love him.”

The name causes her to look back at the cabin, eyes searching for something. You know she can easily find him, using her magic to find his life force. But when she repeats his name, a whisper of curiosity, you think she's going to follow you.

It takes a moment, a long drawn out moment that feels like purgatory before she gives in with a small nod.

You step back to grab your basket and book before holding out your hand for Rio. She lets you lead her to the door and her voice is soft when you move to open the door handle. “I missed you.”

The words make you stop short for just a moment before you glance back at her as you push open the door. You give her a small smirk and whisper back, “You just missed my cooking."

That pulls a genuine smile from Rio and you close the door behind the two of you.

Rio glances around for a moment as you walk off towards the kitchen, leaving the basket and book on the table. She has nothing to worry about, everything is the same as when she stopped visiting but that's not what seems to irk her.

She glances over at you and when you look up from grabbing the tea bags, it seems the time for tears is over. Rio is watching you and you raise an eyebrow at her when silence crawls across the room.

“Are you judging the decor because I remember you wanting to add certain things that I thought were questionable.”

That makes her smile and you decide if Rio is done with showing her grief then you will act as if things are normal.

“You've butchered my decorative bone sculpture.”

Now that stops you in your tracks and you almost drop your favorite mug. You look at Rio like she's lost her mind and glance over at the sculpture that's definitely not butchered, it just had a hat on its head.

But then she's smirking and you glare at her, shaking your head with a sigh. “You are the worst.”

“You should have seen your face.” She chuckles to herself and goes back to looking around the living room. “If you would have let someone else in here while I was gone I would feel left out.”

You shake your head in response, a small smile on your lips. You let her look because that's always the fun part.

Making tea requires little magic, just a touch to warm the water and then you can continue without it. The mundane motion is a comfort that's easy to get lost in.

It doesn't take long. You're actually surprised it took this long before he made himself known.

A soft meow fills the silence and you glance behind you with a small smile. Rio's attention has shifted, she's glancing around in confusion and determination.

You turn back to the tea and let her find him on her own. There is no urgency to your movements, no distrust at her being so close to something so special. You had wanted it to be a surprise, and this is as good as any.

“His name is Tom?” She looks up as you carry two cups of steaming hot tea out of the kitchen. You place them on the wooden coffee table that sits in front of the couch and take a seat next to her.

Rio is holding the little black cat in her lap, her nails scratching lightly at the back of his head. You can hear his purrs at the attention.

You give her a nod and she turns her attention back to the feline. “I found him a few weeks ago. He was caught in a hunter's trap.”

Rio glances up at you with a frown. “There are no hunter traps near here. Where did you go?”

With the excuse of your tea you take a sip and shrug, and then you get up from the couch and walk over to the bookcase. The spines of the books are bare, a safekeep of knowledge if anyone got past your wards and tried to steal from you. With a whispered spell, fingers dancing over a row of books, the names come to the surface.

While Rio is gone you were left with no studies, no mentor so you took to traveling with spells that could get you in more trouble than worth. But the need for knowledge, for understanding is something you inherited from your mother.

So you traveled and still you always came back, hoping you would see any signs that Rio returned. And while traveling, in the middle of a rumored haunted forest behind a small village, you found Tom. And a book.

You grab the book and walk back over to Rio, holding out the book for her to take. “I found this when I found him. I thought you would find it interesting.”

Rio looks at the book for a long moment before reaching for it and placing it on the table. Her attention goes back to Tom and you smile. Of course he's stolen her from you.

“How did you come up with his name? Because I remember us talking about familiar names before and Tom wasn't on the list.”

“I specifically remember you putting Thackery on the list.” You raise an eyebrow at her and Rio smirks as she scratches Tom's chin.

“You remember correctly.” Rio says and you shake your head with a smile.

To be honest you didn't even have time to think before starting the ritual. You didn't even know if it was going to work. It was adrenaline and panic that pushed you and the first name that escaped was Tom.

Besides, what can you say? A witch and a cat familiar is as stereotypical as it gets and still the entire process was as impulsive as it could have gotten. You love Tom, he's an extension of who you are now.

Tom turns to you with a meow and your fondness only grows. Of course he likes her, she's giving him many pets.

“You said the first name you could think of, didn't you?” Rio glances at you with a knowing smirk.

You think about defending yourself but she's right. The first name that came to mind was Tom. “I was a little preoccupied trying to save his life.”

“Well I think it's perfect, right Tom?” Rio turns back to the black cat, scrunching her nose playfully when he reaches a paw out to her face. Her touch is gentle as her fingers drag lines through his fur, and Tom is basking in the attention.

You had refused to let him outside earlier because he loves to mess up the flowers and you've grown tired of walking by just to see them ruined again. Rio would love to know that little detail, that Tom loves to chew on her flowers but you'll let him have this, just for now.

“I think he likes you.” You tell Rio after a moment of just watching the two. Tom's eyes are closed and his purrs are loud as Rio gives him all the attention. You might even think that she's going to become his favorite.

The small tilt of her head, the fall of her hair as she turns to look at you, even the darkness of her eyes makes you want to hug her again.

“I like him too. You picked a good one.”

It's when you nudge the tea towards her does Rio finally reach for it, she holds it close and closes her eyes as she smells the mint. The small upturn of her lips makes you look away.

The fire burns bright against the dying wood, flames dancing with a rhythm that's exceptionally hard to find and still you stare. The sight is a relief, it's comforting.

It's only with a tilt of your head, a twitch of a finger, does the fire come alive in a different way. The burning edges take the form a dog, it runs around with a wagging tail and it makes you smile.

The soft hum of amusement draws your attention back to Rio, she's watching the illusion. “My turn.”

The competitive glint in her eyes when she glances at you then back at the fire calms your nerves.

As you turn back to the fire, the dog is now chasing a bird. It runs around and jumps to try and catch it but the bird is always faster.

It flaps its fiery wings and swoops around like it's showing off, and yet the dog never gives up the chase. It's tail wags and it bounces to try and reach the bird, failing every time.

The very moment the bird flies out of the fireplace, its fiery body soaring through the air a few times before crashing back into the fire, you turn to Rio with narrowed eyes and the hint of a smile.

“Show off.” You mutter but your words have no bite. Her smile is small and you don't want to break it. So when she turns her attention back to Tom, brushing her fingers through his soft fur, whispering words you can not hear, you let her be. Even for a moment.

Because sometimes words are too much. Sometimes all it takes to feel better is holding a small animal in your hands and knowing that it trusts you. And Tom, you can tell without a doubt trust her. Not as death, but as Rio.

You watch them with a soft expression. Tom, in her lap purring loudly, looking entirely content. Rio, brushing her fingers through his fur, scratching under his chin, leaning down to touch her nose with his. It feels special and vulnerable.

“You know he's going to live as long as you.” Rio finally speaks after a long moment. She tilts her head just a bit to look over at you.

You try to pretend you weren't watching them but it feels impossible not to look away. You hum softly in response, shrugging just a bit. “I know.”

Rio smiles. Turning her attention back to your familiar, green wisps of magic dance at her fingertips as she brushes over his fur and you watch, curious and suspicious.

You feel it. The instance whatever Rio’s done has settled into the bond. You narrow your eyes at her and debate on saying anything. But she beats you to it, with a playful glint in her eyes and a small smirk that tells you she knows exactly what you feel.

“He's fine. You can breathe.” She teases you softly and you look between Tom and her, and he does seem fine. Perfectly okay.

“What did you do?”

Rio says nothing, just gives you a private smile as she continues brushing her fingers through Tom's fur.

“If you want to leave I won't stop you.” The words are soft, a whisper really. A reminder that this is still her choice.

And still Rio gives you a half smile before turning back to Tom who is currently rolled over and playing with her hand. Teeth and claws can't hurt her and yet you know he's not trying to.

And she stays.

She drinks the tea and helps you make dinner, and she even tells you some old joke she's been carrying around for the right moment, which it seems is now. Rio doesn't cry again. She doesn't explain or vent. She's just here, in the moment. With you and Tom.

And when morning comes. When the sun shines through open windows and the sound of birdsong echoes through the woods, Rio is still here.

“Let me make you breakfast.” You haven't made her breakfast in months. You miss it, the quiet moments, soft words and normalcy of it. And you want to see what it’s like to have her in your kitchen again, what it’s like to have this with her. “Please.”

As Rio looks back at you, smile turned soft; she lets you have this. “Only because you said please.”

“Thank you.” You grin and she reaches out to brush your hair back, her finger traces your ear and you don't breathe as she leans closer to you. Her lips are soft as she kisses your cheek and the touch is so intimate that you think your control is going to break.

To kiss Rio, to be kissed by Rio, that’s an urge you won’t ever let become words.

“You're too good.” She whispers but you disagree, you shake your head and take her hand in your own. She's warm under your touch.

The truth is so simple it should be easy. But you know she overlooks things when it comes to herself and still you don't mind having to remind her. “You deserve it.”

It’s when Rio leaves, a promise to return and Tom perched on her shoulders you let yourself almost believe you could get used to this. She said she wanted to get him some pheasant this morning as a treat and there was no way you would deny her.

The cabin is silent as you make breakfast but you don't feel alone. You know she won't stay but you missed this. Having her here with you.

As the front door opens some time later you look up to see her again. She has her hood up and somehow Tom is still on her shoulders, a bird feather between his teeth as his bright eyes look for you. He perks up at the smell of bacon and crawls out of Rio’s hood to jump on the floor and trot towards you.

He places the feather at your feet and meows, flicking his tail back and forth as he waits for his treat. You shake your head and tear a piece of bacon and set it on the floor as you take the feather.

“I think he likes you more than me.” You chuckle and look back to Rio. She’s lowered her hood and her eyes are on the two plates in front of you. She walks over slowly and sits down across from you.

“Blueberries?” She asks, picks up a blueberry and looks at you with a raised eyebrow. You nod in response, place the feather down next to your plate and take a sip of your tea.

“Special treat.” You shrug as you tear apart your bacon and nibble on one piece.

Rio loves blueberries. It was one of the first things you learned about her. It was the berries in your basket the other day.

When Tom jumps on the table to grab another piece of bacon you shoo him away with a soft wave of green magic, he floats in place for a moment before dropping to the floor. His angry meow and hiss makes you shake your head with a smile.

Rio laughs but she’s far more giving when it comes to her bacon. She sneaks a few pieces off her place as she eats and you know she’s dropping them to Tom who’s probably sitting on the floor right next to her but you don't have it in you to scold her. It’s adorable.

It’s later when the sun is high in the sky and the two of you are walking down a path that leads to the nearest lake, you know that this is goodbye.

“Are you ready for this?” You ask her once the two of you reach the lake. There’s a group of ducks swimming in the middle of the water and a deer is drinking on the farside. Rio nods after a long moment. She takes a breath that relaxes her shoulders and nods again.

“I have to be.”

“Okay,” You move to stand in front of her and she watches you with curiosity. Rio reaches for your hands and you let her fingers dance against your palm before she takes your hand into her own. “Now, who is it you would like me to look after?”

You don’t expect her to frown, and yet you should have. You don’t rush her though, there is no need. Rio recovers quickly, she squeezes your hand and you return the gesture. “Her name is Agatha Harkness.”

“Agatha,” You mutter the name because it sounds familiar. You don’t notice Rio watching you carefully, waiting for your response, waiting to see what you do.

Agatha. Harkness. Suddenly the recognition sparks to life like a wildfire. Agatha Harkness. The witch killer.

You look back at Rio in utter shock. Her expression is guarded and you know if you say the wrong thing she’s going to pull away, she’s going to hide under her apathy.

“She could kill me.” That is not what you meant to say.

But Rio doesn’t move away. She shakes her head, steps closer and holds your face in her hands so you look at her when she speaks next.

Her eyes are so rich in color you think you could drown in them, if it weren’t for the predicament of this entire situation. “She won’t. She can’t. I promise you she can’t. Agatha’s powers are unique.”

Yeah, her powers kill other witches, you would call that unique and terrifying. Even if every word is just rumor you still would not like to run into her.

“If you don’t blast her, if you don’t harm her with your magic she can’t steal yours.” Rio explains gently. She brushes the pad of her thumb over your lower lip and sighs. “You do not have to do this if you do not want to.”

You shake your head, close your eyes and breathe. You grab at her wrists and you can feel her exhale against your face.

Rio came to you with this request. You have already agreed. You clear your throat and nod, open your eyes and look at her. “Where is she?”

She licks her lips before she responds and you're too weak right now. Your eyes fall to her lips and you exhale softly. “North. You have time.”

“What do I even say if she asks why I’m following her?”

Rio hums softly before she responds, her index finger traces the line of your jaw. “Agatha's thirst for knowledge fuels her curiosity, if you dangle something she wants right in front of her she will let you stay close by. She's like you in that regard.” She smirks and you glare at her.

“I’m a way better cook.” You grumble and she smiles, her laugh is light and teasing.

“Yes, your pancakes are to die for.” Rio teases you and you want to kiss that expression off her face.

“How long will you be gone?” You ask her, voice a whisper.

“I promised him an adventure.” She doesn't explain more and you know that is answer enough. You won't see her for a while.

“Okay, okay.” You let out a soft breath and give her a small nod. You can do this for her.

“Thank you.” Her whisper tickles your lips and you have to close your eyes so you don’t give into that urge.

“Whatever you need.” You tell her softly. You don’t know if it's relief or regret that you feel when she finally steps away. You open your eyes and watch as she reaches for something hidden in her cloak.

What she pulls out is a bracelet. It looks like it’s woven together with straw, it looks like a child's creation. You glance up at Rio and she looks down at the bracelet, holding it in her hands. She runs a finger over the design and smiles sadly. “Trust me. You will find her with this.”

[postmoe]

Really wanna do...

A Konosuba AU type thing with Anaxa, Phainon and Mydei.

You're a God who welcomes passing souls to a new start or whatever they want, and when you get the Blasphemer, you can't help but feel smug that you get to be the deity that proves him wrong.

He somehow still makes you feel inferior, as though he intends to make you doubt your own existence. The back and forth is getting too much for you so you explain the rules, tell him to pick something to take with him-

"Anything? Anyone?"

"Yes, yes, now hurry up! There's a long line, you know."

And when he picks you, it takes you a second to register, then another to scoff at his decision. Well, OBVIOUSLY you weren't on the table... Right?

And then idk Black Swan or some shit come down to say "man we really should update that. Bye (Y/n)~!" and you're in tears because your comfy life as a God is about to crumble with some Blasphemer who doesn't even acknowledge you exist.

They have video games in your world, you're not new to most of these concepts. Adventurer's Guilds, taverns, NPC dialogue, it just sucks you have to start from zero. Not a Gold to your name, not even a name to your name! No one knows you and it hurts.

Anaxa is having the time of his life, taking on small, two party commissions, throwing you in the way because, "Aren't you a God? Then do something divine."

You have to explain that, "My level has dropped to 1, too! I don't have any magical powers or-" and it's when he starts snickering that you realise he knows all this, you don't need to explain yourself to him, he's just the biggest bully you've ever encountered.

Cold nights sleeping in barns are terrible, you either find yourself curled against him for warmth or if you're still awake then he pushes you off. If you do wake up against him, he makes a big deal about it, "I couldn't get you off, geez, why are you so heavy?"

Eventually, you realise you're getting nowhere. Living paycheck to paycheck is hardly an adventure, and you're starting to really hate waking up with hay in your butt crack.

The only issue is that every other commission needs 3 people or more, 4 being the sweet middle ground. You come up with the brilliant idea, "Let's hire people! We can start auditioning others who want to be in bigger groups too."

It's humiliating how little response you get. The tavern owner is nice enough to let you guys hang out there, find commissions on the board and cry when things go bad. Unfortunately, this just means you have become the laughing stock of the town. Anaxa has no qualms coming back covered in slime or goblin blood, whereas you haven't needed to wash your own clothes in centuries, let alone clean your skin of viscera and other unmentionables.

Eventually, a bright and happy man walks up to you, a simple tattoo of a sun on his neck, "It's never easy, is it? I always find it hard to get outside party members. It's easier to just do things myself most times."

"You can do that?" You ask, stunned by his confession.

He looks at you like it's obvious, "Uh- yeah. The party number is just a guideline, a recommendation but no one is going to run in and stop you if you're heading towards danger. Though I do hear it can get you into legal trouble on bigger bounties and closer to the city."

You're about to smile at Anaxa that you can do the job, only to see him laughing into his shoulder, "Did you know this too?!"

He wipes a tear from his eye, "Well, it's pretty obvious. Since when have we followed the suggestion of a commission anyway?"

Like that time you went to invade a small, goblin camp from the rear, only to fall into the river and wash up right in the middle of their nest.

Or the time a hoard of slimes had overrun a farm and you were cautioned to clear them out during a sunny day, only to get the weather report wrong and end up fighting them in stormy weather. You can still taste slime extract from that.

"What are you trying to do, anyway?" The stranger asks, taking a seat across from you at the table.

Anaxa slides over the commission pamphlet, "Demon Lord's Castle. A town nearby has been getting threats from the King and wants someone to fight him off."

The man looks wary at his explanation, "Not to be rood or anything, friend, but even with four people you'd have to be pretty in tune with each other. What's your status level at now?"

You both answer at the same time, "12."

"This says at least 32... How about this, I will gather my partner and we will help you on this quest?" The kind stranger suggests.

Your eyes light up, grasping his hands in yours, "Really?! You'll do that?!"

He laughs merrily, "Of course! To be honest, we've been eyeing this commission as well, so it works in both our favours!"

Phainon is the man with the beautiful soul that offered to team up. His constantly angry-looking partner is Mydei, an undying brute who can harness strength and expel it with every hit he takes.

You soon realise that these men aren't what they seem. Phainon is a glutton for punishment, accepting every challenger offered to him and won't even hit back most times. He just laughs it off before ending the fight in one, swift slash of his sword. He's a bit ditzy when it comes to his own safety, and you have watched in horror many times as a beast will bite him or swallow him or stomp on him-

Mydei is a pretty good cook. That's... the best thing you can say about him. You've almost been eviscerated many times by his "Godslayer Be God" attack. It's terrifying to think of how strong this man is and yet how spatially unaware he can be when fighting.

And then there's your reason for this Hell, Anaxagoras. He's become more of your savior since these two have joined, and though he's not firm on martial combat, he's created a pretty cool weapon with a monster drop and a gun. He tinkers with it frequently, sitting by the fire at night while you lay next to him and try to sleep.

You suppose it's not so bad, the four of you get closer as time goes on. You prioritised your spells on healing and water magic, but since they don't seem to need as much anymore, you start branching out into buffs as well. You can't lie that your heart does a little skip when one of them saves you from imminent danger. Their protectiveness almost obsessive.

You just wished it catered to smaller monsters too, or even plant-based enemies that aim to entrap and snare without any real danger. Yeah, you see where this is going.

They may know of your status as a God, but down here, in a world where you have to start from zero, you're well beneath all of them. You need them to survive.

[bonbonly]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬

a/n: this is for my desi girls, and my first full length proper fic! translations are at the end of the fic, so just scroll down whenever you see something in spanish! pairing: king!carlos sainz x apsara!female!reader ; tw: fingering, cunnilingus, p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk in spanish, use of slut in spanish word count: 6k apsara definition: a supernatural female being, either the mistress of a soul in paradise or a succubus

"hurry up! hurry up!" meenakshi cries out. she's grabbing her saree, wrapping it around her wet body as she cranes her neck around a tree to see if there were any onlookers. you laugh, splashing some water onto her feet which has her squealing, her right foot kicking up into the air before she's stomping her foot, pouting at you, "i'm not kidding, come! what if someone sees us!"

"that didn't stop you the last time when the great sage was walking back home," you tease her, splashing another wave of water. she's blushing at your words, averting her eyes to the small flower besides her. she had been sent by one of the gods to remind this sage that despite the knowledge he had, his arrogance was still that of a mere mortal and to prove a point, meenakshi was sent to illustrate that the sage had not yet controlled his desires like he was supposed to. meenakshi had walked into his hut under the pretense of wanting some water, and walked out with a satisfied grin as the sage's cum dripped down her legs. even with the amount of times she was sent by the gods to fulfill whatever they asked of her, no apsara was more the favorite than you. you were created by many gods, who each spent extra time making sure that you were the perfect apsara to ever exist. their own lust could not be controlled when you stepped out of the flower that you bloomed from, and needless to say, you were their prized possession for a good two weeks before they let you roam the mortal world.

you're in a river, taking a bath like you always did with your friends. renuka had left earlier to collect some fruits, and dhanalakshmi was playing games with the little girls near the village. dhanalakshmi's story was one of pity, though. she yearned to be a normal mortal, to mingle with the others, but an apsara's curse was that their beauty was just too much for a man or woman to handle. the mortals were not ready to live with the apsaras, and that's why their lives were so mundane. you glance over to meenakshi who's still anxiously looking around.

"you worry too much! come, come take another bath with me!" you laugh, swimming on your back. the water surrounded your full breasts, your hair floating like the leaves of a lily flower. meenakshi sent you a scowl, shaking her head,

"you play too much! come, before a mortal sees us! i've been hearing talks from the gods that this one king wants to take over the forest! and he's not even from here!" meenakshi grabs your white saree and brings it over to you, carefully holding it out so that the fabric doesn't get drenched. you stop your movements, letting the still water engulf your frame as you stare at her.

"what do you mean take over the forest? the forest is ours! the gods gave us a place to stay! this is our land, not the mortals!" you cry out.

"i know, i know," she beckons you with her hand to swim over to her, "which is why i'm begging you to come out of the river. we can go pray at the temple near by and see if the gods will answer our concerns!"

you step out of the river, letting the water cascade your naked body as meenakshi is quick to wrap the saree around you. she grabs the flower from the ground, plucking a bit of the stem off before placing it in your wet hair, right above your right ear and then she's holding your hand and navigating through the forest. you hop over some roots, and smile as the butterflies flutter around your hair, kissing your skin. meenakshi turns around and laughs,

"must be one of the former kings who satisfied their lust through you and now they are cursed to be butterflies!" and you giggle in response, cooing to the creatures,

"beautiful nonetheless, are they not? they're always welcome," and the butterflies dance around your head as a form of gratitude at your kindness.

when passing by a long abandoned hut, you see renuka laying there, her clothes on the floor of the forest. she's breathing heavily, a grin on her face as her legs are spread apart, her cunt still clenching around the cum that some mysterious man has offered her. meenakshi and you both scurry over to her, and while your friend is tending to the poor spent girl, you're giggling hysterically as you crouch down to her level.

"someone had fun in the forest without us, hm?" you smile and meenakshi's swatting your arm, a frown on her face,

"stop that! she needs to get back home. why would anyone ever be intimate in the forest, look at her back!" she flips renuka onto her stomach which causes the apsara to giggle a bit dazily. there's marks on her back from being held up against a tree, and you bite your lip, your mind wandering to some very unholy thoughts. renuka's waving meenakshi away,

"no, stop... stop, i'm fine. i'm very much fine, don't worry about me. i was sent by indra to come destroy a saint's abstinence. he was a young boy, couldn't be more than 19. he was good," she pauses, stretching her arms before giggling once more, "really good. (y/n) you would've loved him." and meenakshi's glaring at both renuka and you,

"enough with this nonsense! come now, we have other more important matters to deal with. dhana's waiting for us back at the temple," she stands up and walks away, leaving you to wrap renuka up in her clothes, a knowing smile on both your lips. when you finally get to the temple, dhana's there making a flower garland to place on the deity and she turns to look at her three friends approaching.

"finally! i thought you all would never make it! i was waiting for so long!" she cries out, and meenakshi's rolling her eyes,

"we would've gotten here sooner, but you can already guess what held us back," and she sends a scowl to both you and renuka, who are hiding your laughs with your mouth. dhana sighs, lighting a small lamp before praying carefully. one by one, the apsaras close their eyes, murmuring their concerns and within seconds, a large glow appears in front of you all. you open your eyes first, having always loved to have conversations with the gods. however, you frown, when you see it's god indra, the one you hated the most. he was always teasing you, toying with you in the worst way possible. you pout your lips and turn your head to the side, chest heaving in anger and he's already laughing,

"oh my dear (y/n) come now, don't be like that! i thought you'd miss me!"

but meenakshi, the ever loving friend, clears her throat and saves you from a conversation with him, "we wanted to ask about what's to come of our forest. are the rumors true? will our home be destroyed by a foreign force?"

indra stares into the sky, taking a deep breath in before nodding his head, "i'm afraid the rumors are true. very much true. there's not much we can do to stop him, but we're trying our best to intervene. this is the home we gifted you after all, i wouldn't want any of you to get hurt."

"what do you mean by 'him'? who's 'him', who is he?" you ask, snapping your head to face indra. he's raising his eyebrows, a smile on his lips as he sees your feisty attitude,

"apsara, he isn't like the other men you've dealt with," he clears his throat before continuing, "he's more dangerous, you know? he's a king from a distant place, very distant. he's travelled the seas, he's shown the qualities of a true warrior and for a king who takes acres of land left and right for the expansion of his kingdom, he sure does have morals."

"no man has morals, we have learned that countless of times," dhana chimes, "surely, he is someone that can be defeated, right?"

"of course, of course! but the gods cannot do it without your help! and your help is very crucial, very much so," indra begins and renuka steps forward,

"we'll be very helpful like always, this is just another-"

"this isn't just another scenario," indra scoffs, "i'm worried about you all. for once in your lives, you may be seduced by him, not the other way around."

the apsaras stare at him in disbelief, confusion settling in all their faces. what did he mean by that? no man ever stood a chance against an apsara, and no apsara ever bowed down to another man after the deed was done. renuka turns to look at you, "i think (y/n) should do it. she never cares for any man. her entire world is this forest, she cares more than any of us."

and before you can argue that there's probably a better candidate, the god floats to stand besides you, tilting your chin up with his finger so that you can see his tall stature.

"i was thinking the same thing. come on (y/n) i know we've had our differences in the past, but you know you're always my favorite, you know that right?" he exclaims, gently brushing your cheek. you turn your head away in disgust, snarling at him,

"you're not my favorite. you never have been and you never will. but i'll still do it. not for you, but for my friends. for my home," you respond, and he clasps his hand,

"as long as you do it, i shall be fine," he sighs, and dhana nervously chews on her finger,

"what does he looks like?" she asks, and indra is moving back to where the deity stands,

"you'll know when you see him... she'll definitely know." and just like that he's gone. meenakshi turns to look at you with scowl,

"i now see why you hate him. how will we know? how will you know, (y/n)?"

"i guess i just will..." you whisper, turning on your heel.

dhanalakshmi stopped going to the village outskirts in a long time. renuka rarely ever leaves her small hut, and meenakshi never joins your invitations when you're bathing in the river. so all alone, you swim around, pressing flowers into your hair and laughing whenever the butterflies come back to accompany you.

"you poor creatures," you tease them pointing to a blue one, "i remember you... you tried to trick me, and i convinced the rishis to curse you! look at you, helplessly flying around because you could not get to me. shame, such shame. i might as well let your wings roam over my body, you won't have hands for the next 1000 years."

the butterfly flies up all into your face, making you laugh as you stumble backwards into deeper waters. "someone's upset," you snicker, and the blue butterfly flies away. your eyes follow the insect before it lands on a white steed, neighing. you frown, looking around you to see if any of your friends are there to convince you that you're not dreaming. you swim over to the majestical animal, ducking beneath a broken log when the horse turns to your area. when the horse looks the other side, you slowly raise your head and let your eyes travel along the golden reins. the saddle is that of a rich velvety red, with encrusted gold patterns. when you had once seduced a sage under the orders of one of the gods, the sage had found out and cursed you to be curious. in any other circumstances, this would seem as barely any punishment, but no. no, this was a type of punishment that only your future would suffer from. so with the nagging feeling in your mind, you raise from the water and approach the animal, gently brushing its soft coat. a very well maintained horse, and you're definitely impressed. your fingers dance along the reigns and when you look past the horse, you see a man cutting through the leaves of a bush with his sword. each swing of the weapon makes your heart ache and you feel for the poor plant that's suffering this abuse. you stretch out your hand, about to yell stop when your mind starts buzzing. you feel it in your heart, this is the man that you're supposed to stop. you gulp, realizing that you're not prepared for the occasion and you jump back into the waters which startles the horse.

hearing the restlessness of the horse, king carlos sainz runs towards the sound and he catches a glimpse of you swimming away, your hair chasing after you as if it was your own shadow and he has to blink a couple times because now you are gone. as if you were an illusion. he barely saw anything, but he swore you were naked? with flowers in your hair and a scent that made him crave for more. he shakes his head, turning back to his horse.

"oi, cabron, what's wrong?" he snorts, and the horse snorts back, stomping its foot, "enough with the attitude. come, we have things to do." and he's tugging the reigns, dragging the horse deeper into the woods.

"i saw him, i saw him!" you're pacing renuka's hut, shaking uncontrollably, "i didn't see his face clearly but i know it's him! i was so sure of it! i felt it within me!"

"then why didn't you do something about it?" she asks, and you groan out loud,

"right? when i'm naked after a bath, i should just go up to him and - oh forget it, that's your style. that's not mine!" you hiss, "i like to plan these out, i like to be prepared no matter what happens."

and you know you're prepared when you catch a glimpse of him the next day, and the following few days. you're stalking him, watching him prance around on his horse as you're perched on a tree. you take a bite of an apple, trying to understand his patterns, his mind. what was he doing in your home? to think he could storm in and take what was rightfully yours! the audacity of mankind. and yet as the days pass by, you fear lord indra is right. you're starting to crave this king. his hair looks soft, combed neatly and sometimes the wind pushes his hair back so that you could get a closer look at his big brown eyes. his jaw is sharp, lips big and you nearly fall off the tree ogling at him. renuka, meenakshi and dhana all see him too occasionally when they're hiding behind the trees, and all they can do is fawn over him. his beauty had renuka envying him.

"mortals shouldn't be this beautiful, this is a curse by the gods! they're trying to test us," she scoffs, and you're sighing out loud,

"a test indeed. i don't think i can spend any longer chasing after him. my mind is unwell. do you want to seduce him? i am more than happy to gift this burden to you," you exclaim but renuka shakes her head,

"no, no. the gods have chosen you. they're getting angry that you have not done your duty as an apsara. don't delay it any further, come on (y/n), it's your time now." she informs you, before picking the ends of her saree up and walking back to her hut.

you decide to finally confront the stranger that has been tormenting your mind for the past week. you let your hair down, the biggest hibiscus flower you can find in your hair and you wear your precious anklets, the one that you only wear for occasions like this. you delve into the woods, fingers brushing against the bark of the trees, each with a story of their own. and then you hear the unmistakable sound of someone chopping up leaves and you know it's time for you to spring into action. you move towards the direction of the sound, pushing the big leaves out of your way and you make sure that each step you take is harsh, just so that the music of your anklets can echo through every corner of this forest. as you turn the corner, a warm figure presses against your back, followed by the coolness of the sword against your throat.

"Qué tipo de criatura eres*?" the voice behind you asks, and you stand there, not understanding the language that he's speaking. you remain quiet, and after a few beats he asks you, "mmm, let me help you out, what type of creature are you?"

"i am no creature," you respond, "i live in the woods, this is my home."

"what are you? some sort of bear to be living here?" the voice behind you derides, and his sword's blade digs just a bite deeper into your throat which makes you gasp out loud, "you're a strange creature. what is it about you, hm? i've been seeing you lurking these wooded areas for the past week."

he inhales your scent, the one that he's been craving for an entire week. the one that he smells whenever he knows your nearby, and it drives him insane. he nuzzles his nose into your hair, lips finding the shell of your ear before he begins to nibble, "say, creature, how do you live like this in these woods?"

"this is my home. and once again, do not call me creature. you make me sound as if i am a monster, and the only monster here is you." you hiss, and he's chuckling into your ear, his voice low,

"perhaps, i am the monster, but you fascinate me. why don't you tell me one thing, were you sent by anyone? hm? is this some sort of a game that you and your friends play?" but his questions are met with no responses since you are too focused on the sword against your throat. he seems impressed at your resilience - or stupidity - and he removes the metal, spinning it in his hands before sheathing the sword. you take a step forward, ready to head back home and send meenakshi to do the deed instead but he grabs a chunk of your hair and pulls out back to him, which causes you to wince.

"where do you think you're going?" he's asking you, "i found you, and i want to know more about you."

"this is not the way to do so," you mumble, and he spins you around to finally see your face. you're stricken by his beauty, his features sharp and clear. you cannot help but press your body against his, being drawn to him in a way that you had never done so before. but you know that what you were feeling was wrong. apsaras never found love and if they did, it was doomed from the start. and considering the way this man was staring at you, love was not in the picture but lust sure was. you gulp, pushing him away from you, "you cannot take my home. you must make a promise."

he raises an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side as he's circling you as a predator would to its prey. the butterflies sit on the branch of a tree, eagerly waiting to see what's about to happen. "i cannot guarantee anything, but give me a good reason."

"my friends and i live here. the gods have gifted us this place as our home. no mortal is to ever see us unless we are to carry out a specific duty. mortals cannot usually withstand us, not even the most powerful sages can." you explain, and he's placing his hands on his hips, laughing at your words,

"i'm resisting you, i can stand you. not all mortals are that desperate, mi amor," he stops right in front of you, taking in your appearance. his eyes rake over your body, and he wants to touch you, see if you were real or just a figment of his imagination. but he knows that his words would then be futile. you can see the conflict in his eyes and you smirk for a brief second, and he notices it. he catches it, which makes him even more desperate to have you as his. to tame you, to see what it is about these woodland creatures. he had heard stories from the villagers nearby that the beauty of the forest was to be avoided. he didn't understand it then, but he sure did now. damned be the warnings they gave him, he just wanted a small taste.

you take a step backwards, which causes him to follow suit. you frown, looking around the forest to see if meenakshi would show up but the king grabs your wrist and yanks you close, pressing your body against his once more, "creature, i want you. i need you, right here and right now."

his eyes are blown out due to lust, and you're sure lord indra is happy that you have carried out his request perfectly. you could happily indulge the king all you wanted now. he'd cum in you once and then he'd leave as all the other men had done before. this was nothing new to you. you nod your head, "i shall give myself to you so long as you leave my forest and never come back, never taking what belongs to my friends and I."

"anything you say mi vida, i shall find land elsewhere," he promises, and you're unaware that he's crossing his fingers behind his back. how could he possibly leave this forest when he's seen you now! you bite your lip, eyes glancing to his lips. the ones that you've been dreaming about for a whole week and with much hesitation, you lean forward and capture his lips into yours, nipping his bottom lip and tugging every so often which has him laughing at how eager you were being. especially for a creature that seemed disgusted by his presence just a few minutes earlier. he cups your face, making sure you cannot turn away when the kisses become more heated. his lips trail to your jaw, and then down your neck. he kisses over your clothed breasts, down your stomach and then the inside of your thighs. he brings his hands up to grab at the fabric, but the gods must've decided to help you for now the wind is dancing around you. your hair lifts up into a spiral as the garment is slowly unraveling around you as if you were a present just for him, and there you stand naked before him as his mouth is watering at the sight. he shoves you to the ground, and you groan at the feeling of crunch leaves on your back. it wasn't your particular favorite feeling, but there's not much time when he's yanking you by your ankles close to him. he spreads your legs apart, shaking your feet to hear your anklets that are singing into his ears. he kisses your feet, whispering that every step you take on this world must be a blessing to the dirt. you're speechless at his praise, and his lips are inching closer to where you are aching for him. he blows a few cool breaths on your wet cunt, mumbling about how wet you are and if any man in the forest had ever managed to ruin you like he was about to.

"you are probably the 1000th man in my entire life that I have given myself too," you comment, watching his eyes darken, "i doubt you can make yourself memorable, but we shall try."

he takes it as a challenge, feeling his ego get bruised at your words. he’s going to make sure that if you ever bed any other man, you’ll still be craving him. so when you expect him to take out his manhood and call it a day, instead he has his lips around your cunt. he licks through your folds, sucking and pulling your clit that makes you gasp out loud, followed by a very loud moan that shocks even you. you glance down and can only see his black hair masking the sinful actions his tongue is doing. he’s wrapping his arm around your legs, bringing you closer to him as he’s diving his tongue deep into your core, shaking his head against your cunt which has you mewling. when you eventually cum into his mouth, he pulls away and licks his lips, loving the way you’re in shock at how intense the orgasm was. he brings his fingers to your mouth,

“Open for me princesa, i want to feel your spit on my fingers,” and you nod your head, completely under his trance. he smirks at your compliance, and pulls his fingers out of your mouth and dragging it down your body. his touch sends sparks flying through your body and when he shoves two fingers into your tight cunt, you throw your head back and cry out loud,

“you’re doing too much! listen you mortal!” you cannot finish your sentence since he’s curling his fingers, scissoring your cunt. he pulls out and slaps your face, gently,

“Your highness, you must call me your highness,” he grins, shoving his fingers back in you, and you’re tossing your head to the side with a large moan. this man had magic in his hands, there was no other explanation for this! he goes faster, adding a third finger as his thumb toys with your puffy clit. he sees your desperate cries to cum and he leans forward to capture your nipple in his mouth, sucking as if he was expecting milk to pour out from you. the gods had cruel ways to manipulate you, and you really hope they do not follow through with whatever this man was lusting for. your thoughts are quickly silenced as you feel that familiar coil tightening within you, and as his fingers slider in and out, curling and spreading the gummy walls of your cunt, you scream out loud as you cum once again, squirting all over his hands. the sleeve of his royal coat is drenched in your juices and he pulls away from your marked chest to stare into your eyes,

“you’re making quite the mess, mi vida. ruining my coat like this. debería castigarte por eso, mi pequeña zorra**” but his words mean nothing as your mind is turning into a blank mushy mess. he lifts you off the ground and places you against a tree. you suddenly remember the marks on renuka’s back a week ago and now you find yourself growing wetter at the thought of what he’s about to do. he runs a hand through his hair, beginning to undress. he tosses his coat, and then his vest and then his shirt onto the horse’s saddle and takes off his pants as well. his cock, once free, springs upwards and hits his stomach before swaying with each step he took towards you. he lifts one of your legs and lets you drape it over his arm while the other leg is made to root firmly onto the ground.

“you’re so wet, fuck,” he groans, sliding his cock against your folds. you whimper, still over sensitive from the previous orgasms but he tunes it all out and lets his aching cock bury into your cunt. he doesn’t give you time to adjust, making sure that the only thing your brain can think about now is the cock that's splitting you in half. he pulls out and slams right back into you, cock burying to the hilt and you're screaming with each thrust, unable to form words. his pace quickens, and he presses his chest against yours, going deeper into your poor cunt as the bark of the tree kisses your back roughly. he hoists both your legs up over his arms and as he's pounding into you, he keeps laughing the entire time.

"creature, i thought you'd be mysterious and quiet!" he brings his thumb onto your sensitive clit, rubbing furiously which has you screaming his title once more, begging him to slow down or else you were going to cum once more. "that's what i want, zorra, i want you to cum a million times around my cock. milk me for what it's worth. 1000 men you say? i do not know much about you, but i know from now on i am never letting any man touch you. damned be what the villagers said, i'm keeping you to myself."

your eyes widen in shock, having never heard someone want to possess you. perhaps this is the mentality of foreigners, wanting to take what wasn't rightfully theirs. you're sure the gods would never someone else take their beautiful creation, but a part of you... a part of you wanted him to take you. to let you go beyond this forest. you bite into his shoulder as you reach your climax, your liquids spewing out once more. he continues to drill into you, prolonging your pleasure. his thumb doesn't stop either, and you're sobbing uncontrollably telling him that you cannot take it anymore, that you cannot physically keep up with him. mortals would tire out before the apsaras, but this man had the strength to match the gods! no wonder indra was so worried about you having to deal with this king!

king carlos pulls out of you, and throws you over his shoulder. you limp against him, feeling yourself growing exhausted but you knew the job was far from done. the man tosses you into the water, and dives right in. he clasps onto your waist and brings you towards another bruising kiss, hands groping and squeezing wherever he could touch. there's a boulder near the end of the stream, and he swims over there with you holding on to his neck. within seconds, he has your face against the rock, ass in the air as he's rutting into you once again. you're losing your mind at this point, thinking that he's bound to make you so cock drunk that you'll never remember any of your friends ever again, only the feeling of the veins on his cock pulsing within your walls as he moves in and out of you. one hand grabs your hair while the other is kneading your ass. he looks down at the sight of your ass bouncing with each of his thrusts and he groans,

"oh creature, you cannot convince me that you weren't made just for my cock." his thrusts are harsher, he's not holding himself back anymore and you're audibly wailing at how you're unable to keep up with him, "mírate, tan hermosa, tan perfecta, tan buena puta de mierda para mí.***"

you don't know what he's saying again, but you can feel another orgasm building up as he's going deeper. it's like he plans on having his cock lodged into your guts permanently at this rate. you shake your head, trying to get up but he pushes you back down with his hand, a firm smack on your ass.

"i c-can't c-cum anymore," you whimper, though you back your ass into his crotch, as if chasing after something you fear might ruin you forever.

"yes, you can, puedes y te correrás para mí****" he growls, his thrusts becoming erratic. he grabs your arms and pins them behind your back, pulling you flush against his chest as his cock bullies into you. he licks the tears off your cheek, kissing and sucking at your skin and telling you that you were the most beautiful creature he's ever seen. "i'm going to take you back to my kingdom. i'm going to make you my queen, and you're going to be filled with my cum every. single. day," he punctuates with his thrusts, making you scream out loud as you're orgasming once again, your body shaking. he wraps his arms around you, "i never asked for your name in all of this. i need to know the name of my queen."

as he kisses your shoulder, you're gasping for air as you try to come down from the high, "i-it's (y/n), my name is (y/n)." and he's raising his eyebrows,

"never heard of the name, but it still sounds beautiful. i am king carlos, and i'm going to make you mine," he groans out loud as he's spilling his semen into you. he thrusts into you a couple more times, letting his cum splatter into the walls of your overworked cunt and he pulls out, enjoying the sight of your leaking pussy. he walks around the boulder to head back to his horse, and you see him begin to dress himself.

"if i have you, why would you need this forest, hm?" he asks, glancing at you as he's buttoning his shirt.

"this forest was gifted by the gods for my friends and I to stay safe from mortals. usually those who wander here are punished by the gods through us." you reveal to him, voice still hoarse from all the screaming you just did a few seconds ago. he laughs, a rich laugh, at your words,

"punish? mi vida, if this is your punishment, then i might as well take over your forest. do your friends have sweet cunts like you do? maybe i should get a taste of them all," he snickers, and watches you frown at his words, "don't be jealous, amor. you're the only one i want anyway."

he walks over to you after he's fully clothed, and cups your cheek, "come with me. i meant it when i said i want you as my queen. you won't have to live in this forest, you will have all the luxuries you could ever ask for."

"and this forest?" you ask.

"i'll still take it, but i won't do much harm if you're so fond of it," he replies, but it is not enough for you. consciousness settles into the crevices of your mind, and you realize you have overstayed your welcome with this king. you pull away from his touch, sending one final glance to him before jumping into the waters, swimming away as the butterflies follow you. king carlos watches you flee from him, confused that you just rejected such an amazing proposal. he wasn't even one to do so, and he laughs at his own foolishness to be chasing after some unknown creature in the woods. but his feelings remain the same, he wants you as his, no matter what happens.

as he moves towards his horse, he sees the white cloth that had been adorned on your body and he picks it up, inhaling that scent of yours that made his knees weak. he wraps the cloth around his hand and hoists himself onto his horse.

"i'll find her again one day, and the next time, i won't let her escape. she will be my queen, you hear me?" he says to the horse, who merely snorts and stomps its foot in response.

"oh, shut up," he hisses, before tapping the sides of his shoes against the horse's abdomen, and rides off deeper into the woods.

* what type of creature are you ** I should punish you for that, my little slut *** Look at you, so beautiful, so perfect, such a good fucking slut for me. **** you can and you will cum for me

[khaire-traveler]

I'm curious because someone recently made the comment that it's only fair for Lord Charon to expect money in return for his services, but this system would actually raise a lot of questions. If you're curious, some questions I thought of are featured below.

(For the record, I still believe Charon deserves recognition for what he does; it's just the coin system doesn't actually make sense when you start examining it closely.)

Please reblog! 🧡 I want to hear everyone's opinions on this.

Not every Underworld god is paid for their labors. Some aren't even given offerings anymore, their names tragically lost to time. So, why is Lord Charon specifically mentioned to require coins for his ferry? Why not Lord Haides, for entry to his domain? Or Lord Thanatos for deliverance of one's soul? Or Lord Hermes for transportation from the mortal realm to that of the dead? Why not Cerberus for letting you through The Gates (he is a sentient being, btw, for those who seem to think he's just a random three-headed dog)?

Does The Underworld have an economy? Why does it need an economy based on coins from the material plane/Earth? How does it even determine currency value?I mean, just imagine how many different people from different countries would have gone to The Underworld and paid with coins over thousands upon thousands of years.

Does payment have to be coins, or is there maybe some other form payment you can provide? Does the value of the item have to be monetary, or can it be something that meant a lot to you in life? More of a metaphorical release of the material plane, in a sense, as you trade off something that ties you to Earth and are officially transported to "The Other Side".

How do you get physical coins onto a spiritual plane?

Why would Charon need coins from the surface world? Does he maybe just have a sick coin collection from over thousands of years of human history?

What about our ancestors who were alive before the invention of monetary coins; were they just expected to stand at the shore for 100 years for not having something that didn't exist yet?

Speaking of the last question, where do animals go? How do they get across the river Styx?

Why would the afterlife require money in order for you to enter it properly? That seems kind of fucked up and more like something a bunch of old men wrote down to declare the wealthy more important than the poor, no?

If this is really just a job for Lord Charon (who is a son of Nyx, mind you), that implies that maybe Lord Haides (or whomever oversees that) could hire others to help him. Is there more than one ferryman on the river Styx? What is their average hourly pay? How can I apply, and does anyone have any interview tips? Seems to me that it'd be based on commission.

Do you think the spirits on the riverbank get bored of waiting? What do you think they do for 100 years to pass all that time? 🤔

[mamawasatesttube]

alright it's time! without further ado i present to you, the premise of the timkon and clois mermay fic i probably won't write.

in a world where mers are known to exist but are extremely rare - hunted to near-extinction in the past, perhaps, and mostly very reclusive - cadmus labs manage to get a tissue sample from a mer sighted in the sea nearby, although he evades capture and is never observed in the area again. it's enough for them to make a few attempts at cloning - the first twelve are unsuccessful, but the thirteenth... the thirteenth grows beautifully.

tim drake is an intern working directly under lois lane at the daily planet. he's only recently started his job, but he's great at it and he's thriving, and he really likes lois. her husband is nice, too, even if he privately thinks the man kind of lacks personality - he's just not as much of a go-getter as lois. his columns are great reads, though. tim just thinks lois's are better.

as usual, clark kent has a secret. a sea-cret, in this case - he came from the ocean. he was a little baby mer, tacky with the blood of his dead parents, who washed up ashore by the lighthouse the kent family has kept for ages. of course they took him in and raised him as their own, as best they could. he disappeared to sea again for a while when he met lori lemaris. though their romance didn't pan out in the end, they parted as friends, and she gave him a gift: a magic spell to let him transform into a human while on land, to have legs, but to always return to his true form in the water.

lois lane, of course, knows her husband's secret. lois lane would do anything to protect her husband and his secret. she nearly lost him once, a few years ago, when he tried to go for a swim to meet his old friend lori but was nearly caught by hunters. he escaped, but was injured; his tail still bears the scar. she still has the occasional nightmare about finding him on the docks, bleeding, mourning.

the thirteenth experiment - the cloned mer - escapes.

he doesn't know where to go - he doesn't have anywhere else to go - but he's never been in the open ocean before, with no tanks or barriers or nets to hold him back, and he revels in it. he's free! he has so much space to swim, he can leap from the water and twirl in the air! there are so many stars in the night sky, and the sun on the rocks is so warm and nice, and there are so many new kinds of fish he's never eaten...

...but mers are social creatures, and he's lonely. so he starts sneaking back towards the shore of the city he escaped from. he knows it's dangerous, but he just wants to see people. he's never met another mer. he hides near the docks, he swims by the beaches, he explores the marinas. he observes. he sneaks a little closer and closer day by day, growing braver with every venture that doesn't get him caught.

tim drake is eating a leisurely lunch by the waterside one day when he notices a creature in the water, staring at him.

"uuhhhh," he says. "hi?"

the creature ducks back into the water with barely a ripple and vanishes. but he's back, a minute or two later, and staring at tim's lunch. "...what's that?" he asks.

"this?" tim looks down. "this is some sliced mango. do you want some?"

he tosses a piece into the water. the thirteenth experiment takes a tentative bite. tim witnesses a being experience true bliss for the first time in its life, in real time. the next thing he knows, he's promised to come back tomorrow with more land fruits for the mer to try - and he's promised not to tell anyone. and there's a little thought in the back of his mind telling him that he really needs to look into any facilities in the area that might have the capacity to house a secret captive mer.

clark kent hears rumors that some people are claiming to have seen a young mer in the area recently. of course he has to investigate. of course he finds the thirteenth clone, swimming around the mouth of the river and playing in the currents. of course he looks into his face - his own face, years younger - and knows, deep in his bones, what has happened. of course he calls him family. gives him a name. offers him his home, as well, but kon-el declines; he's too in love with the ocean to want to abandon it to hide on land just yet.

clark is a master of keeping secrets. never from lois, but from the rest of the world? always. he tells lois about the boy in the water, about the facility that created him, about the scientists who kept him from the sea. lois swears that she'll stand by him no matter what, and that they'll do whatever they can to make sure this kid is safe.

what follows is a series of more and more ridiculous scenarios as tim and lois both attempt to keep the mer secret from each other, unaware that the other knows about kon because they both believe they can't tell anyone about kon for kon's own safety. kon, unaware that tim and kal-el's wife know each other either, is just having the time of his life swimming around and stealing bits and pieces of tim's lunch.

of course, the peace can't last. cadmus hears the rumors, too, and they want their prize back. early one morning, tim and lois see reports of a flotilla of strange, private fishing boats with unusual equipment and no markings, and they both know what that means.

kon is being hunted.

tim scrambles to get to their usual meeting spot, to tell kon to get away, to hide, but kon never comes. hours pass. the sun sinks below the horizon; the moon glimmers on the water. sick with worry, tim finally has to retreat. they must have found him already, he thinks. he has to find a way to get him back. he has some leads, about facilities that could actually hold a mer, and about those boats. he'll follow up on them. he will find kon.

(what tim doesn't know is that clark moves fast. clark knows all about being hunted. kon is safe, luxuriating in a bath bomb in clark and lois's apartment. he's got clark's laptop on a plank across the tub, and he's watching wendy the werewolf stalker with rapt attention. clark has gotten him some sushi. he's having a great time.)

lois, however, isn't home. lois followed one of those suspicious boats back to its dock, and lois is going to get some answers.

what follows: tim and lois both break into cadmus marine research labs and proceed to do a spiderman pointing meme at each other over a computer full of records about the mer-cloning experiments.

what follows: lois is so proud of tim. he's breaking and entering and getting to the truth without her lead at all! he's doing so good! good job tim!

what follows: lois puts tim in her purse and brings him home with her like a little dog.

clark, upon seeing tim with lois, is initially like ?!?!!?! why did you bring him here when you know kon is here?!?!? but then kon sticks his head out of the bathroom and goes "tim!!!!!" and clark is like. wait. you... the human friend you mentioned is tim???? and kon is like. you know him???? my mango dealer????

and then the falling action. lois spearheads cadmus getting shut down, and kon gets to splash around without fear. he gets clark to come splash around with him too. and he kisses tim :)

[legitalicat]

we can't be friends - (modern!Aemond Targaryen x reader)

AN: Thank you all for the votes!! I felt very inspired by we can't be friends by Ariana Grande and my brain would not let this go.

Summary: Friends to lovers, lovers to nothing. No words, no explanations. The younger brother of her best friend left behind a void.

CW: angst, happy ending though, pining, Aemond who doesn't like labels, Helaena's best friend so reader is older than him by about two years, drunken mess Aemond.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x reader, Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers (kinda)

Word count: 2k

“Come on, Hel. It’s not like we were ever friends,” she said to her, now, best friend.

It was a lie that burned like whiskey. They had been friends, best friends, for years. It was just easier to say that to Helaena than to admit what they actually shared. It was easier to deny she had any love for him, platonic or otherwise, while she stared at him with his arm draped around another woman.

This is ridiculous, she thought to herself. It was. They had never said they were really anything. All Aemond would ever commit to was letting people draw their own conclusions. He merely provided the basis of a claim and everything else was never true or false. It simply was.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Helaena said quietly when they sat back down. This party was a low-key thing, just a group of fifteen or so people that Aegon invited over to try his new home brew.

“You don’t get it, okay,” Y/N whispered angrily. It was something nobody ever did with Helaena. The sweet, creature obsessed, silver haired girl was always a beacon of light among her friends and family, earning her the respect to not be spoken to out of anger.

“I told you not to get involved. Aegon of all people told you not to get involved,” Helaena whispered to her. “Fuck, Y/N, you’ve been my friend for damn near twenty years, you know him, you knew how he was.”

No, I didn’t, she couldn’t help but think. It was true that Aemond definitely did not ever call her his girlfriend. But he never corrected her when she referred to herself as such, or if she called him her boyfriend. They had gone on over a hundred dates in the four years they spent together, as he reminded her on their last date. Hell, they had even rescued a dog when she unofficially moved in.

That’s what really bothered her. They were friends, they were more, and now he was letting this woman talk about his apartment that Y/N made a proper home and their dog Vhagar as though Y/N had never existed.

She could hear the woman, who she thinks was named Alys, talk about Vhagar. And Aemond just let her, even though Y/N could tell by the way his jaw tightened and nostrils flared that he was tired of her.

“This dog is just so lazy, all she ever wants to do is lay on the ground,” Alys said to the people who were bothering to listen.

“No, she wants to be on the couch, you vapid cunt,” Y/N said, meaning it to be a quiet murmur and instead saying it loud enough to be heard by Aemond.

He shifted in his seat, subtly removing his hold on Alys’ shoulder. His arm was still on the couch behind her, but there was no longer a physical connection. It wasn’t intentional, but nothing except how he looked at Y/N.

“Excuse you?” Alys asked.

“She’s an old dog. She was old when Aemond and I brought her home and that was two years ago. When she isn’t playing outside or eating all she wants is to lay on the couch or in bed with her people,” Y/N said to her. Her eyes moved between Aemond’s amused expression and Alys’ shocked one.

There was a crushing weight in her chest when Aemond looked at her. It wasn’t a secret that they had been…well whatever they were. They had attended every party Aegon threw, every academic ceremony Helaena was honored at, every work party his family had forced him to attend as a couple. Everyone knew.

Until four months ago when she stopped showing up. When her things started slowly disappearing from his apartment, and he slowly disappeared from her online life. Nobody knew what happened. All anyone knew was that once they were Aemond and Y/N, an entity, now they were Aemond and Y/N, two people.

His eyes, one a brilliant violet and one a scarred, cloudy blue, raked over her face. She looked at him and she wondered if it burned him the way it burned her. She felt the dread fueled flames licking their way through her heart in a painful desperation.

“I’ll see you later, Hel,” Y/N said to her, never once tearing her eyes from Aemond as she stood up. It was only when she saw him begin to lean forward, towards her, that found the motive to look away and walk out of the house.

The days following the party was a dredge through life. Y/N couldn’t sleep, her every sleeping moment consumed by him and the life they had together. Her pain and grief was pressing down on her heart. An Aemond sized void could be felt in the smallest moments.

When she was in the shower, her fingers would brush over her shoulder in such a way she could forget he wasn’t the one washing her. She would be reading on the couch and for a moment, she swore she could smell his cologne. Her favorite Chinese restaurant was his favorite Chinese restaurant, and when she ate their food she was taken back to their fourth date.

Their fourth date. He took her to a car show, the summer heat driving them to get ice cream. When the burning afternoon chilled into a twilight sky, he took her to the best Chinese buffet around. Their talking had lasted for hours as though they forgot that they had known each other for near as long as she’s known Helaena. She was seven when she first stepped foot into the Targaryen residence, Aemond being five. It wasn’t until he was twenty that he stopped seeing her as his sister’s best friend and she became more.

It was that date that he kissed her for the first time. A kiss that melted into twenty. It shattered her universe and fixed every part of her all at once.

She swore that night she could’ve spent more time kissing him than anything else. If she had it her way, those stupid butterflies in her stomach would have never gone away. Every kiss, from the ones that brushed against her skin like a feather blowing in the wind to the ones that made her forget how to stay standing, was something she would’ve given a thousand lifetimes to keep.

It had been seven months since their dissolution when he showed up at her doorstep. It was well past midnight when his knocks echoed off of every wall and she opened the door for no other reason than to avoid her neighbors calling the cops. He reeked of Aegon’s home brews, swaying slightly with his every breath. She had never seen him look such a mess. His hair, where every long, silver strand normally laid in perfect unison, moving like a curtain in every step, had knots throughout. Both eyes teary, his cheeks splotched red.

“What is it?” she whispered to him. Aemond was never sloppy. His every moment was perfectly calculated. Such displays were sure to embarrass him whenever he lost control, but she truly believed he was too drunk.

“Come home, baby,” he said as he leaned against the door frame.

“I am home,” she told him sharply.

“No, you aren’t. You’re not in our bed with Vhagar at your feet. You’re not wrapped in my arms all night. You’re not home.” His voice held a pitiful desperation, it’s strength wavering after every word.

“Alys is. Go home to her,” she said, beginning to shut the door in his face. He put his hand on it, pushing it open so as to not break his view of her.

“Baby,” he whispered, begged.

“I made my choice, you made yours,” she reminded him.

“That’s it, then? You decide to walk away and we don’t even get to have a conversation? We’re not even friends?” The tears that had built up in his eyes slid freely down his cheeks, staining his skin.

“We can’t be friends!” she shouted at him. “You think I didn’t want to just go back? To go back to when you were my best friend’s nerdy little brother who spent more time in his room than should be allowed? To go back to before I was in love with you?”

“Then why say no?!” he shouted at her.

Only someone who didn’t know him would confuse it for anger. It was the same desperate passion that a man truly in love would hold, like when The Duke confessed his passions for Daphne in Bridgerton. His words vibrated through her body. If his kiss could fix every part of her, his pathetic pining for her could break her.

“You couldn’t even call me your girlfriend and you expect me to believe you were truly ready to marry me?” she whispered.

He stepped past the threshold of the apartment. His hands found the side of her face, cupping it gently. His hands were softer than she thought they would be the first time he touched her. He rode a motorcycle, played baseball in high school. His hands should’ve been, she thought, covered in rough calluses. But they always felt soft, holding her with the gentleness of love.

“What do I need to do?” he asked her. “Should I hire a sky writer to let the whole of the city know my heart is yours? Maybe sing a god awful cover of whatever clichéd love song is circulating on the radio and dedicate to you?”

She tried to push his hands away. At least, she told herself it was an actual try. Her hands gripped his wrists as she gave a feeble shove against his weight. Yet, he somehow held her even more firmly without ever increasing the force behind his grasp.

“Perhaps if I blind myself entirely, right here and now? Sacrifice my only good eye so that you know your face is the last beautiful thing I will ever gaze upon?”

He leaned in and allowed his lips to ghost over her own. The barely existent touch set a fire ablaze in her soul, one that was only fanned as his lips moved across her face. The pressure increasing with each touch until he reached her lips again in a bruising kiss.

Aemond’s tears slipped between their lips, the saltiness of them mingling with the bitterness of the homemade wine he had drank before coming. His left hand moved from her face to pathetically grab at her side, then her hip, trying to pull her into him. Any space between them was unacceptable as they kissed.

He pulled away only when they needed to breathe. But he never moved his hands. He never gave her the chance to back away from him.

“Marry me and I will yell from the Hightower that I am the husband of the most ethereal of women. That she is one of beauty unheard of in centuries. That she is kind enough to do in silence what most would boast about. That she is one who brings a warmth into every room she enters that is enough to melt the heart of a man like me,” he said to her.

She glanced between his eyes and lips. She had dreamt of such a moment for years. It was like he had looked into her heart and found exactly what she yearned for.

“What about Alys?” she whispered.

“A woman who works with me. She owed me a favor. Never spoke to her outside of work until about thirty minutes before that party to tell her the most basic information she needed. Haven’t spoken to her since,” he said. “The only thing that’s in our way is your disbelief I would be proud to be your husband.”

In seconds, she kissed him. She needed their existence to become one. Seven months without him. Seven months where all she wanted was the one thing she felt she would never truly have. Seven months in which she waited for his love.

His right hand finally left her face, searching for her left hand. Without hesitation, he intertwined their fingers. They couldn’t be friends, but he wouldn’t stop until he was her husband.

[shinjisdone]

𝑇𝜎 𝑆𝜎𝑓𝜏𝜀𝜋 𝛼 𝑊𝛼𝑟𝑟𝜄𝜎𝑟’𝑠 𝐻𝜀𝛼𝑟𝜏 (Vinland Saga; Thorfinn - 𝑺𝒍𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝑨𝒓𝒄, 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 4)

In which you have joined Askeladd’s band…and grow closer to the Son of Thors - though as your future seemed promising, his thirst for revenge devastated all that you had left.

[Headcanons of how it would be like to meet Thorfinn again after he shattered your heart (based on season 2; both platonic and romantic)

Sᴇᴀsᴏɴ ₁ ﹙Wᴀʀ Aʀᴄ﹚ is here

Part 1: - (Thorfinn as a slave and his struggles) Part 2: - (Thorfinn trying to accept your existence as a slave)

Part 3: - (Thorfinn finds a reason to live, you finally see him)

Tag list:

@luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen , @theknightssecrets , @lana-del-stan , @theghostofanficpresent , @night-shadowblood-writes2

[Mentions of murder, death, war, slave trade, harrasment against women and whatever awful things happened in the viking era. Slavery will be a main subject throughout the entire arc. Mostly gender-neutral examples but female-leaning ones are there, too.]

[TW: This part will specifically mention: depressed tension, attempted murder, suicidal thoughts, lots of talking, lotsa dialoge, short but detailed description of strangulation, finding reasons to still keep living including being begged to]

Mighty River, Release My Soul...

Your arms were as warm as they were on that winter day.

You scolded him back then too, though he reckoned it was far more vicious than your prattling now.

The way you looked at him, were so focused on tending him even if it was for a mere moment, was like breathing in fresh, icey cold air that he has been deprived from for weeks. It coursed through him and stung each limb. It only found an end after Pater cleared his throat.

Immediately you let go of Thorfinn, spinning to the man with a confused noise and a gasp. He smiled. "Thorfinn is fine now, you don't need to worry. These two boys just need to take the rest of the day off. Now that you are willing to talk...I believe we'd best have a conversation. Not with Master Ketil, do not worry."

Still, that flustered panic did not leave your face as you meekly nodded and followed him. Pater waved Thorfinn and Einar one last goodbye before motioning you to follow with an easy gait. You looked back to Thorfinn before tailing after Pater.

Einar let go of his baited breath. "How..strange. They...you really know them, don't-" The brunette chocked on his breath as Thorfinn was disappearing into the dense forest. Work had to be done, injured or not. Perplexed and with a huff of irritation, he ran after him.

First he doesn't know how to show gratitude and say 'thank you' and now he is shrugging off - someone who was scared to death for him!

What the hell is this guy's problem?!

The way to the forest was easier than the last few weeks. The both of them were able to cut down quite a lot of trees, clearing the path, but the stumps remained, leaving the woods like a rugged wasteland of dead trees.

Einar didn't even noticed his stomps and the way his bruisened feet dug into the soil. Narrowed blue eyes watched Thorfinn swing down the axe again, again, again. Cut, cut and cut.

His movements were fluid as he observed him, as he wasn't threatened this day at all. As if he wasn't a second from throwing his life away at all.

But he dodged. He sprung out of the way and didn't seem to be aware to have tried to kill Snake. He seemed so...light and out of it. Like a drunken bird.

"Hey, Thorfinn." The blonde barely showed any sign of listening to him, continuing to cut. "Have you ever been to war?"

Thorfinn chopped once, "I have."

Einar's gaze darkened. He answered him clearly and with focus.

"Have you ever killed people?"

Again, he cut. The tree fell down swiftly. "I have."

"How many? A few? Five, ten?"

"Why do you want to know? Don't you hate war?"

His blue eyes snapped up as the blonde halted. If he stalled or wanted to hear his answer, he didn't know. He just knew that each and every day of being with him confused him more, made a tiny flame in him flick, made the gall in his throat come up.

"I'm asking because...if you went to war and killed, then how-"

Einar took a deep breath and swallowed the gall that threatened to spit out, "-How can that person be worried about you? Why do they want you to live if you killed?"

The axe hovered above his head before he slowly lowered it down - and having it fall with a thud to the ground. His dull eyes oversaw the mess he left. "I don't know...", "Why not? They seem to know you. Are they like you?"

"No." Thorfinn quickly and sharply answered. Though his next words fell flat and soft again, "They aren't a dog like me."

Not when you looked at him like that. Not when you were so heavily relieved by seeing him breathing and battered, like his father was back then.

...I Need To See The World...

Waged war since he was a child.

Ever since he was a wee lad, he said, but he couldn't remember the exact age. He is only about eighteen, so how long ago was it that he can't even remember? Could he even recall it?

It sounded...ridicilous as Einar walked back to the little barn they called their home - or beds, he wasn't sure - back hunched and steps sulken, though his face was as dark as thunder.

He pillaged and killed and stole of people's hard work. Their land, wheat and loved ones. And he can't even remember who, when and why?

Let that fool cut away at the last standing trees as roughed up as he is. Einar is allowed to rest and he'd rather drown in his thoughts alone, bundled up in hay than look at Thorfinn for another minute.

Falling asleep alone feels somewhat sad...but at least he'd fall asleep without any screaming waking him into the early night.

It was the sound of spilled water that made him shoot up his gaze up at the person holding a bucket and rags with them. You shuffled awkwardly to the side, standing right in front of the barn.

Einar was quick to wipe the glare off his face. "Oh...good evening."

"...G-Good evening." You struggled to reply, he thought.

Einar couldn't help but make a long and wide face, pursing his lips as his blue eyes took in your uncertain form. You finally met his eyes with your own. "Are you waiting for Thorfinn?" Your brows rose as you nodded. He must've figured it out quick - or you are just that predictable.

"Pater allowed me to go see him quick. For his ear. Just to make sure the wound didn't fester through the day." "He's still back in the forest chopping. If you wait too long, you might get in trouble."

Shuffling a bit, you hesitated. "I'll wait a bit more. He's stubborn."

The brunette's shoulder sank. With a sigh, he swiftly sat down on the boulder next to the barn's entrance and crossed his arms. "I'll wait too, then."

He sat there on the right, while you stood on the left side. You stared at him briefly, confusion written on your face. The sky turned even darker, with the stars shining through their hiding spots. The moon was nowhere to be seen but the lights from the master's estate still offered some solace. It was illuminated enough for both people to see each other and perhaps recognize an possible incomer.

The silence did not feel heavy yet pressuring. As if any moment, something was waiting to happen.

You glanced at the man and took a deep breath. "...Are you hurt somewhere, too?"

"Uh, what?" Einar jumped and whipped his head to you. "You were there too, right? With the guests. They must've hurt you, too." "Oh! Well - I'm fine enough. Just a few bruises," He rolled his shoudler while chuckling dryly, "The real unlucky bastard is Thorfinn."

You hummed and rose the bucket in your hand. "Pater didn't give me any balms or medicines but the water should cool the bruises." "Ah, uh," Einar waved with his arms, laughing as he shook his head, "No, no, I'm okay. Honestly I...got really off scott-free. Really, the one who has it the worst is...Thorfinn."

You pulled a face - Einar could not decipher what it meant - and went back on being on the look out. "I'd figure. He likes getting in trouble."

The man glanced in your direction, taking in your unreadable, narrowed expression briefly, before staring back down the hill as well, though halfheartedly. "You know him?" He dared to glance to you again, "That he's like that?"

The grip on the bucket tightened and your eyes darted around the cool meadow below. For a moment, you shifted aimlessly but decided to give in. "Yes. He...is an old friend."

There was no need to pretend. To act coy and unknowing when you so foolishly started to speak and cradled him in your arms. Not when you were waiting here like an idiot for him to return and see him again just this once for tonight.

As if he was deserving of it. Thorfinn did not return when you ran after him, did not stay as you lead him to Leif's boat and now you are waiting for him again - and the only certainty you had was that he had the order to do so as a slave.

You yourself needed to oblige.

Lying here will bring you nothing but punishments and you had to be on your best behaviour, even if it meant not being with Thorfinn for however long you were allowed to. But for now, you could use Pater as an excuse and do all that you could - even if this whole place, Thorfinn himself and your own actions didn't make any sense to you.

You are a slave here now on this farm. Why should you even try?

Back with Askeladd you could fight back. But here, your hands are only untied by Ketil's orders.

"There he is." Einar lowly let out and made you snap your head up to see the short blonde march towards you with a hunched back and one arm holding the other bandaged one. His own lidded gaze was focused on the ground before they widened upon your sight.

"Your friend has been waiting." Einar got up with a start, his voice stern and certain, "I'll be just outside. Let's head to bed soon after." Thorfinn barely had the chance to utter a protest as the brunette simply turned around the corner of the barn, staying a few steps away from it. Though his eyes quickly went back to you, wide and unsure, before he walked into the barn and sat down on the hay. You kneeled down next to him, dunking the cloth into the water.

Wordlessly, you got up and went around to his side, pulling his greasy strands away to observe his ear. Thorfinn felt the gentle, almost ghostly tips of your fingers graze his shell as he unblinkingly hung his head, sitting cross-legged. His hands were clutched and the fingers would tense around one another, slightly, as if shivering from the cold.

There was nothing to see. No festering, no tissue. A clean cut that won't affect his hearing at all. You knew, but wanted to see him anyway. Perhaps it was the paranoia, perhaps you didn't trust Pater's word, felt like you couldn't, or you truly just wanted to see him again. This ghost of a man from the past.

You didn't know. But you knew you were a fool for feeling drawn to him after all this time, for wanting to see if he is really alright.

Gaze remained on the wound for a while before you let his hair slip off your hold and kneeled down next to him again. Watching him, Thorfinn didn't meet your eyes, not even when you brought the wet, cold cloth up to pat his face.

His jawline felt thinner. The short stubbles tickled your skin and bent back against the cloth. You couldn't remember him with any stubbles, let alone a sliver of what seems to be a beard ever appear on his grimsome mug. Blonde hair heavy and stringy tickling his shoulders - he used to hate having long hair. It bothered him so that he'd cut it whenever it got too long for his tastes, leaving him with this disheveled, wild look. But here, he was downcast, downtrodden, like nothing he has ever been before or wanted to be. Yet his eyes stayed the same. The sorrow you saw reflected in the deep brown, the same you saw that winter day.

Still, Thorfinn didn't want to look at you.

...To The Unknown, I'll Go Against My Sorrow...

"What are you doing?" Was all he muttered instead, staring holes into the ground. The cloth hung in the hair before you dapped it in water again. "I don't know. I think I wanted to see if you're still...here."

Pressing the water out, you took his limb hands and gently glided the cloth over his course skin. "You shouldn't. You'll get in trouble and..." For a moment, Thorfinn glanced to the side, "...I'll drag you down with me."

You couldnt help the frown as you focused back on his hands and picking out the splinters of wood. Thorfinn dragged you down with him ever since you met him. Drowning together seemed like fate, a curse that befell upon you the moment you so foolishly returned his dagger.

Is it punishment for not being like Askeladd and letting him die? For not being like Canute and letting him be? Are people like you just meant to suffer in this world, all caused by your own actions?

It felt like it. Yet here you were with him again. Was a reunion another form of punishment, prolonging your suffering just a bit more before you die?

Was sitting here and tending to him suffering as well?

"I can't be dragged lower than this. There's nothing else." Finally, Thorfinn looked at you and the action was as painful as he thought it'd be. Your hair was longer, face bearing more and you've grown, too. Lidded eyes were focused on his calloused hand, the shadows of the night consuming you, not even the stars were bright enough. Hesitation would flicker within every minute, every moment, if it's really you - yet then his eyes would unwittingly search for the familiar injuries you had in the past, that one uniquness you wore, a certain pattern of speech and it would ease all doubts he had, eliminate them with the memory from just today. When you embraced him. When you told him he should be back in Iceland.

Thorfinn turned his hand around, grabbing one of yours, while the other one swiped the cloth in your hand off, as if it meant nothing in this, as if his injuries meant nothing at all, and held both of your hands in a tight, suffocating grip. With every passing second, they trembled more.

"You shouldn't be here. You should be somewhere far away, somewhere that isn't here. I'm doing this to you." He glared at your hands with an anguished frown, gripping them as if they could be swept away any second while yours were lying limbly in his. "I thought if I could be here...it'll be fine. But I'm still finding ways of doing this to you. Even after all I did...I'm still managing to hurt someone, and that's you."

Suddenly, he whipped his wide-eyed stare to you, taking in your own frustrated and chagrin-filled face. Your dry, pressed lips, the frown etched onto your visage, your bulging eyes. Thorfinn felt like he needed to continue before you began tearing up. "I'm...still me. But I will be here tomorrow. And the day after that." The blonde hesitated - before deciding to not promise it. He can't tell how much faith you can still put in him and neither can he.

Your watery gaze narrows before looking back over your shoulder. The house's lights are out and you'll need some to find your way back.

Slowly, weakly almost, you got on your feet. Hands still clung to Thorfinn's as they slowly slipped out of his grip. With one last look you offered to him, you hoarsely whispered, "You'll be here."

The man could only nod with wide eyes as you finally let go and went back. The darkness of the night swallowed you whole, only the sound of splashing water letting him know you're still nearby before only the sound of critters were left.

As Einar turned towards the entrance of the barn, he saw Thorfinn lying on his side. He watched him, the blonde almost motionless but the rise of his chest was a relief. He wondered how on earth Thorfinn could've fallen asleep so quickly but he didn't care enough to ponder for a minute more. This...guy. He was another beast, wasn't he?

He killed and pillaged and caused people like him and Arnheid and Pater to end up in places like this. Though Master Ketil was a kind trader, he was an exception to the rule. Anywhere else, and he might have it worse. And you seemed to be just like this guy.

One by one, the brunette took a step closer. How many has he killed? And have you taken lives as well? Can any of you remember?

The hay glided off his legs like snow. Have you caused fires, burned down fields and houses, flung spears and arrows into people?

He stood in front of him. The hay was warm around his knees. This murderer is now cutting down trees to make a field, to plant, to grow, to thrive. To feed people. To still their hunger, use the wood for houses and tools and use the wheat to bargain and trade.

His thick, scarred hands fit around his neck. The anger burning inside him and filling the hole in his chest made it easy to clam them around tightly. Einar could feel his pulse, steady and clear against his skin. Further back was part of his spine, feeling every movement of each inhale. Yet it feels so surprisingly soft when he puts pressure. Soft as his fingers curl around the back of his neck, squeezing the spine in, feeling his pulse quicken and his breath labored. The peaceful snores turned into winces, into pleas for the pain to stop.

Just a bit more. More. The blonde gasps, wiggling around in the hay as his whimpers turned into groans of pain. Somehow he could still breath.

"...Shit."

The throat was warm but Einar could feel his palms getting sweaty. In an blink of an eye, he surprised himself of how quickly he let go. His squatted legs trembled and stumbled back. Thorfinn didn't stop screaming.

Shit. He can't do it. Einar can't kill someone!

It's scary. The feel of someone's neck around your hands is terrifying and daunting, like a weight itself is put on his chest even though he is pretending to be the predator. To be stronger. To be the winner. He can't do it. He doesn't want to do it. He doesn't want to hate. He doesn't want anyone to die.

Suddenly his hands whipped out into the air, wailing around for help. Thorfinn gasped for air, only to screech out more. Even when Einar tried to kill him, he's still throwing a tantrum.

Quivering with hitched gasps, coughing and panting. It's the same every night.

A man like him. It's all nightmares, every night, and he knows it but now - now he wants to live to keep dreaming and live to keep seeing you and live to keep chopping down trees. Yet still, he feels so out of place here.

A desperate inhale and he reckoned he wanted to call for someone. His sweaty hand stiffened. In an blink of an eye he could feel it coil to a fist, pressure forcing his fingers down and he snapped his gaze wide open. Einar's hand clung around his.

"...You..." Thorfinn could finally feel the coolness of the air, the way the hay prickled his back as he desperately sucked in deep breaths like a man starved of food.

A good minute passed, at least to Einar, and Thorfinn shuffled around to sit up. He wiped the sweat off his face before glancing towards the brunette's back. Finally he calmed down, and noticed how dry his mouth was while swallowing. "...Why..." The blonde licked his lips, "...Why do you wake me...everytime I have a nightmare?" He took another breath and could clearly hear the crickets, hiding among the high grass, now. "...I...killed people, too." Propping his knee up, he leaned his elbow on it and his face against his hand - scarred and big enough to cover half his downtrodden visage. "I helped pillage and kill in each village I passed by. People like you. For years. I am...I am as despicable as the warriors that killed your family. And I'll just drag you down, too. So why-!"

Suddenly, Einar shot up, like a predator seeing his chance. Swiftly he snapped to him, a steel-tight grip on his tunic and a glare as dark as thunder as tears welled up in his eyes. "So, you wanna die, huh?!" He gave him a good shake and Thorfinn let it happen, "You wanna die here in the woods you chop down?! You and your - listen," His tone turned dark and Thorfinn's eyes widened, "I don't know exactly what happened to you. And I don't wanna know! I can't even imagine it!" Another rock, "But even if we are far down in our lowest point, there are - there are still some things we can be glad about to experience! Even if we just eat, work, sleep and shit all day, it's worth something! Never had anything good happen to me, my ass! When you get cleaned up all nice, even when its with a stinky, worn out rag, it's still something good! By someone...someone that cares about you! And all of that...all of that is only possible because someone let you live!"

Through gritted teeth, he swallowed his snot and fought against his tears. Images and voices of his mother and sister flashed by and Einar bit his lip to focus on the pain. He shook Thorfinn again.

"So be grateful for that at least! Do you hear me?!" He couldn't help but let a shaky sigh escape him. He didn't even have the strength to throw the blonde to the ground - he'd let that happen, too. So his grip grew softer and in defeat, Einar slumped down on his side of the barn. "Besides," He muttered, "It's not like you were the one who killed my family."

His brown eyes observed his hunched back, the way his body curled into a ball. Quiet and steady were his breaths as Thorfinn looked back to his hand. His scarred, calloused hand Einar took to get him back to the waking world, to the cold and dark night, the crisp air as crickets played their songs. It was better. Calmer than any other place he had ever been to.

"...Thank you, Einar." His voice was a mere attempt to utter his gratitude but it made Einar's heart beat faster. "Thank you for always waking me when I have a nightmare."

"...Yeah. Can't get a good night's sleep with you brailing around. Just go to sleep, Thorfinn."

"I will. I'll get up with you tomorrow."

Mighty River, Release My Soul, Out To The Open Gold...

He did wake up first.

Washed his face, stretched, got his axe. Waited for Einar to finish his chatting with Arnheid as you came around the corner.

It seemed like Pater was not angry last night nor did you get in trouble. Thorfinn couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

Einar noticed you as well and tried to give his best welcoming smile. "...Good morning!" The brunette noticed the crack in his voice but tried to brush off his embarassment with a wider grin. You blinked and gave a somber reply. "Oh...good morning." Your eyes immediately went to the shorter blonde, seeing him ready with the axe over his shoulder. His locks hid the shine in his gaze. He, too, greeted you. "Good morning."

The sound of your name on his tongue felt foreign. Like a hometown meal he hadn't had in ages, or learning a melody from his long-gone childhood. He saw your eyes widen as you struggled to instantly give a response. "G-Good morning, Thorfinn..."

His back was straighter, you weren't sure if he even noticed that himself, and his steps were heavy. The deep rise and fall of his chest was...relieving in a way, but before you could glance at him again, Einar sucked in a baited breath and stepped forward. "Well, we'd best get going, haha!" His laughter was too forced and so was his goofy grin, "Trees don't chop themselves! Uh, have a good, productive day, you two! See you later!" He marched away with a comedic wave towards Arnheid, and with Thorfinn in tow.

The woman chuckled before looking at you. "We're lucky to have such sweet and funny guys as our neighbors, don't we?"

The sun slowly went her way down across the sky but Thorfinn was more eager than ever to drop his axe, rope and knife to walk towards the edge of the decreasing forest. Einar rose a brow but brushed his confusion off, believing the blonde wanted to greet the master. "You're up and about, you lads, aren't you? Very good work ethics, I must say."

"Thank you, Master Ketil." Einar noted Thorfinn's quick and serious reply but kept his mouth shut. As fair as Ketil was, here on his high horse, it wasn't like Thorfinn to be so eager for conversations with him. "I do plan to turn this place into a field in about three years," Thorfinn added with an determined tone, his words cut and clear. Ketil, too, rose a brow. "Oh? Have you planned for that exact time?" The shorter man shook his head. "No. But I will get it done by then."

Look at that guy. Talking all high and mighty, confident like a carpenter as if Einar isn't doing half the work, too!

"And when it is done, Master...I'd like to ask you for a favor." The elder straightened his back and took a sharp inhale. Thorfinn making any suggestions piqued his interest - yet rather in puzzlement. "What did you have in mind, boy?"

Now, he, too, straightened his back, widened his eyes as if trying to pierce through Ketil's soul, wanting dearly for him to understand the utter necessity that bore in his words, that tore apart his heart. He had to say it and the man had to understand. Please.

"If you would so kindly allow, I'd like to work as much as I need to till this soil and grow its crops here. But instead of buying myself, I'd like to sell you the produce in order to buy their freedom back."

"What?!"

Both Einar and Ketil jumped at the boldness of his words. Thorfinn didn't blink an eye as he kept his expectant stare on the master. "Thorfinn...do you know what you're saying? Three years, at the least, all for this...one, one person? You don't mean the shy, new one?"

"I do." Thorfinn did not falter, "I want to work to buy their freedom back. To get somewhere else, far away from here. I want them to be free."

I Can't Stay Here Forever In This Hollow...

----

okay, so, this took too long-

ngl, I didn't get his speech at first - but pondering it about it more, Einar had already gone through a tragedy as a child with his father fighting off warriors/vikings to defend their village and not being sold off as slaves. After the huge amount of damage vikings have done (I imagine), there was prbly a lot of things to recover and rebuild again where all he, as a child, could do was work to rebuild, eat what they had, sleep as much as he could, and shit all day until their village recovered and they could enjoy their peace again - aka Einar being rather hopeful and ready to do that all over again as a slave and buy his freedom back.

first of all, I noticed way too late that Einar is, in fact, not a brunette;;;;his hair is rather dark reddish...oops. i'll pay more attention to that in the next

also, i read a few posts of manga-onlys/those who read the manga first that they didn't like Einar's confrontation with Thorfinn in the barn after their drama with Snake. That he's too violent, put in a bad light and I do get that - considering how incredibly kind and open-minded the guy actually is and even called Thorfinn his friend in that very chapter (in the anime it happened way later).

this is...complete bias on my part but I don't mind the scene in the anime. its scary, almost unnecessarily so in some regards considering how long the strangle goes on, like wtf - but I do like that it allowed Einar to be angry and grief in a rather negative way and realise in the midst of the action that what he is doing is wrong and that he physically does not have the guts nor want to kill someone. Imo not even giving into the thought of hurting Finny (like in the manga) shows more maturity but I don't mind both scenes. Plus, I like his speech of finding even the smallest things worthwhile and letting go of his anger in the moment to wake up Finn, cause he knows its wrong - that he isnt doing anything helpful or good, despite not liking Finn during that time at all.

[scaredyspooks]

BG3 Kinktober 2024

Because I'm a perverted conduit that the void speaks through, I'm doing a Baldur's Gate 3 themed kinktober this year on here and AO3. As I publish the fics I'll be updating this list with links to them, and so y'all can gauge your interest here's the list!

Astarion (spawn) - roleplay - what's an innocent magistrate to do when his assistant propositions him when they're staying late at work?

Gale - pegging - growing bored of the wizard's endless accounts of how he and his goddess' bodies once intertwined, you notice there's one pleasure she never showed him.

Shadowheart - sensory depravation - life's greatest pleasures can be found in loss and darkness.

Lae'Zel - leather - peeling the leathers from your lover's body are one of the greatest rewards of battle.

Wyll - chastity - just because he wants to take things slow, doesn't mean you can't torment him a little.

Karlach - temperature play - attempts to cool her down end up having an interesting result.

Minthara - bondage - an interrogation goes south as you try to get to the bottom of the Absolute's cult.

Halsin - olfactophilia - after almost a tenday of not having time to bathe you head to the river, only be blocked off by a large elf.

Mizora - public - shrouded in the cloak of the hells atop a secluded pedestal, only to find it is in fact a stage.

Rolan - electro - someone's ego boost at getting a new tower has him coming out of his shell.

Zevlor - glory hole - the commander and the cleric need a release, things get interesting when the stranger behind the wall ends up being far too familiar.

Ikaron - semi-public - tensions are high in The Hollow, but you think you can help.

Raphael - naked platter - the devil has made a patisserie of you for his guests, though they seem to fade from existence as he grows distracted by the meal he's making of you.

Haarlep - size difference - the succubus is shocked that you want to see their true form, turns out they're a lot bigger than their master.

Rugan - impact play - the Zhentarim seeks to punish you for trying to skip out on your deal, he doesn't get very far.

Gortash - power play - your relationship has always been somewhat of a dance, one that you're determined to lead.

Dammon - edging - the forge's flames illuminate more than the smith realises, but you're happy to "help" once things quieten down.

The Emperor - hypnosis - the ilithid believes he can still get through to you, with one last attempt.

Aradin - hate fuck - your competitor, the thorn in your side, but damn if he doesn't have good stamina.

Abdirak - sado-masochism - two priests of Loviatar aid in each other's prayer.

He Who Was - free use - his ability to travel the shadowcursed lands unhindered has him popping up everywhere, making you pay for his insatiable desires.

Lia - wax play - after the first few drops, it's hard to tell what's blush and what's burn among the giggles in the Elfsong.

Cal - play fighting - a little extra training won't do any harm, though the proximity may prove... challenging.

Gale - findom - what starts as a simple shopping trip to Sorcerous Sundries takes a turn as you drag the wizard to more and more shops.

Astarion (ascended) - biting/marking - your last night as a mortal will be one to remember.

Shadowheart - human furniture - god's favourite princess needs a throne.

Wyll - roleplay - the son of a duke has a duty to mingle at these important events, though it usually shouldn't lead him to a cupboard with a handsome stranger.

Lae'Zel - predator/prey - your heart races, your breathing to quick to catch, and you know the more you sweat the easier it'll be for her to catch you.

Karlach - human ashtray - she's been making fun of you all evening for your drunken confession about her cigars, but once the other's go to bed she's happy to indulge you on the Elfsong's roof garden.

Halsin - breeding - ever the beast of nature, with your perils finally at an end he lets himself run loose with you and you realise it’s going to be a long night until he’s done filling you.

Minthara - body worship - the drow isn't keen onbeing nursed after but with injuries so severe you need to make sure she's alright.

[imagine-silk]

I hope you are doing okay. I would really like a rather simple Idea of the Yan Fallout 4 boys whose obsession confesses that they have a crush... on someone else. But that someone else has no Idea.

》Ah, I see you crave violence.

【Codsworth】 "You can do so much better."

As much as he has no desire to date you he sees how great you are and you deserve someone just as lovely, maybe even more than you if someone like that existed. Who you've picked is subpar. Oh, they can make you laugh? Do higher your standards, please. For his non-existent heart.

【Danse】 "What do they have that I don't?"

In his heart he gets it; he is a broken man who isn't even human. But this was the last bit of sanity he could take. You try to explain yourself, whether it be the other person never spat at a ghoul or simply has their life together. He knows he can't change the past and he doesn't want you to leave him. Against his better judgement he goes to that person and fights them. He wins too.

【Deacon】 "How could that happen?!"

Deacon would consider himself lucky man, and he was very lucky you told him while you were on an investigation. This person lived quite comfortably and had a very stable life. Imagine everyone's surprise when someone found a letter on him saying he was going to let the raiders into Diamond City because no one would suspect him to be up to no good. Who told the guard? Don't worry about it.

【Hancock】 "Here's how this is going to go."

The second they set foot in Good Neighbor they are dragged into his office. He talks to them with thinly veiled threats and tells them to back off. When they say 'no' and stand their ground he says, "Whoa, you see that Glory?" with his hands up. She then proceeds to say she did, that they had a gun pointed at him. When they still don't back down and try to deescalate he has her shoot him. Even though everyone in Good Neighbor knows what happens the official story is that they pulled a weapon on the mayor and Glory had to save him. No one betrays that story.

【MacCready】 "Who?"

He plays dumb and asks you to tell him who they are. And you had no reason to think he had any ill intentions. Afterwards he brushes it off with a, 'good luck with that' kind of dismissal. However, now that he knows their name, where they live, and where they work, he kills them from long distance. No one can point the finger his way because he never knew the person.

【Nick】

♤If Platonic "When do I get to meet them?"

He's gonna do an impromptu 'If you want to date my daughter' kind of dinner with them. The entire time he's watching them with great interest, making threats in just the right way to be completely permissible. If and when you excuse yourself for a moment he fully tells them they have one shot to play this out and if they get it wrong no one will find their body. Don't be surprised if they dump you the next day.

♡If Romantic "Stay away from them."

He didn't mean to say it but after he did he had to roll with it. His silver tongue got him in and out of a lot of places so it's not hard to craft a story about how the person in question exhibits strange behaviors, enough that he needed to look into it. Just to make sure his story goes unchecked he pays them a little 'visit' and tells them to never speak to you. Ever.

【Preston】 "Really? That's great!"

He immediately supports you in your endeavor but later when you go to sleep he finds that person. He takes them out of earshot of the town and kills them, throwing their body into the river after. In the morning they are nowhere to be found and you're heartbroken. It's okay, Preston will help you look for them. He'll be right next to you.

【X6-88】 "I see."

He wants to tell you you're too good for them but that would be a waste of time. No, he needs to be smarter than that. Excusing himself and then finding them dead would be too suspicious. He was by your side the entire day and they suddenly collapsed. They died in your arms. Say what you will about that strange tragedy, you can never say you suspected him.

[lacunammmm]

Do you think AFO and/or OFA as quirks were too over powered for the story (not in a powerscaling way but in a narrative way)?

The story of MHA is about the AFO vs OFA war. It's a bait and switch. They get you by making you think it's about watching kids go to a hero school. What's it's actually about is: -Societal issues. Every important villain with the exception of a few is the result of societal apathy and systemic issues. Even AFO himself, being born to a homeless teenage girl who died giving birth alone by the river. Well all of them except Muscular, who the series wants us to believe is just a psychopath. In a series where every other villain is a tragedy case, he stands out. -The Todoroki soap opera. -All For One's obsession and Yoichi Shigaraki's death curse (OFA) to kill All For One. The reason it feels wrong to people is because the series' macro scale, in that Tomura decides to destroy the world and AFO is an immortal quirk devil, clashes with the micro scale of previous conflicts: society creates its own monsters, the impact of one abuser's actions on his family, if the hero kids can pass a test, etc. The threads aren't tied up neatly and the series tries to do both to its own detriment. A story entirely focused on wrapping up and addressing the issues of their society would be just fine without AFO involved. A story where we make AFO the great evil and the cause of all problems is objectively better when that's actually true. We don't have systemic issues that spawn villains, we just blame it all on AFO and we don't show hero society having cracks.

So we've got a series that ends with Deku punching AFO and Tomura into dust and in the process somehow his ultra violence resolves the societal issues that create villains like them and their comrades and 8 years later, society is heading to a utopia where heroes are becoming obsolete. If we take what Tokoyami said at face value, that heroes won't be needed eventually, then even natural disasters are calming down. I suspect the author forgot briefly that heroes handle disaster relief because of how little of a focus rescue heroes are in this story, but this interpretation is hilarious. AFO was so foul that he caused earthquakes, tsunamis and landslides just by existing. At its core, the plot of MHA is a coming of age story where two relics of the old era of heroics, the ultimate hero, and the ultimate villain, both groom a successor who has something they lack to carry on for them. In All Might's case, it's Deku's drive to save that defies all reason. For All For One, it's Tomura's hatred and vision. The story proceeded to derail itself with Tomura getting possessed and All For One deciding that he doesn't want a successor, but instead a meat puppet. Our final battles are poor in this case because Tomura barely gets time to interact with the main character meaningfully. The dude was MIA for many arcs where Izuku was present and then for everything important in the last stretch of the series, he's possessed. The idea the author was going for sorta still works though. Tomura and All For One died because All For One couldn't let go. Instead of building a successor to be better than him, he strangled this dude in the crib before he could ever get going. Left to his own devices, even if AFO forced Tomura to retreat at the first war arc for his own good... A universe where he and Tomura are genuine bros just leads to Tomura defeating Star And Stripe, then AFO and Tomura working together to double team hero society. They'd certainly have won.

Actually, given how Tomura mainly just wanted destruction, he might have killed Star outright and not tried to take her power. What does Tomura Shigaraki, a man who can create a cascade effect that could destroy the world if he wanted, care about some reality warping quirk? That was AFO's desires for more power that led to her trojan horsing them. Not that she actually accomplished anything nor destroyed any quirks that would impact the plot going forward. Tomura committed the incredible plot induced stupidity of trying to steal Deku's quirk in the final battle instead of just killing the guy, but I'd attribute him trying to take OFA down to AFO having infested him for so long.

With Tomura in charge, there's nothing stopping him from just killing everyone. Full stop. He'd unleash a decay wave and watch everyone turn to dust. The whole gambit to get the UA traitor to help them that saved the heroes asses in canon? Completely meaningless before the power of Decay just wiping UA and everything else off the map. AFO's problem is that he tries to get too cute and is always doing too much. Tomura's bullheaded blunt weapon approach can work, if used at the right time. AFO's wisdom would help to pinpoint the right times.

So while the sentiment that OFA and AFO took over the series is indeed valid, that's what the series is. Or rather, what the author decided to focus on. A universe where the other aspects of the series get room to breathe is the purview of fanfiction. The author was clearly NOT interested in the Academia, dealing with the fact that their government uses assassins and trains child soldiers, or the cast of characters who aren't his favorites and their development into heroes.

[beevean]

Let's see why Trevor's important... hmmm... without him, Sypha would remain stone, Grant some goblin thing, and Alucard would still be catching Zzzs in his little coffin.

Belmonts are fucking important. Without Leon, there's no Trevor, and without Trevor, no Simon, no Juste, no Richter, literally the entire line is just BLEH, nonexistent, nada. Julius? Gone. Nonexistent. Nope. Not even a spec of sperm existing. Without them, Dracula would fuck shit up real bad. What, some random kid from the streets is going to pick up some magical item and be able to take down Dracula? No, the Belmonts had a reason to exist, and when Belmonts aren't around, you KNOW people are up in arms, terrified, "fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK we gotta arm up, train for life, we're fucking DEAD if a certain asshole shows up again, we're reaching 100 years."

Trevors's KIDS marry into Helsing and Morris. Pretty. Fucking. IMPORTANT.

Ecclesia exists because, "holy shit, a Belmont isn't present to protect us, we gotta fucking do all this shit cause we are FUCKED. We are SO COOKED if Dracula gets up to his shit again, it's been 100 years, any day now, we gotta do something to beat his ass because, my god, we DONT HAVE A BELMONT WHO COULD TAKE HIM ON."

Alucard shows up in SOTN because what? "Holy fucking shit, the only Belmont around is literally fucking corrupted as shit, and since he can't protect the innocents from daddy-o, I gotta step in for him because what the fuck."

Tell me again why we are pissing all over the Belmonts in the anime? You know they literally have to make SOME excuse for Alucard and Sypha to not be able to be there with Trevor when he has to fight death. And then we see Richter. Richter, honey, are you doing good there? Yeah? Having fun? Having fun being the fucking tailbone of the series? Tailbone? No, forgive me for overestimating your importance to the story, the TOENAIL of YOUR OWN FUCKING SHOW. You, Belmont, and yet... What have you done? Besides cry at a river because oh no, mommy dead. And it isn't brought up again second season. Fuck, I guess we aren't gonna be traumatized that the only other mother figure is. A. Fucking. VAMPIRE.

I died inside when I saw Alucard in the first season, showing up to sAvE thE dAY. Oh my fucking god. No, seriously, my god, can we NOT have any moment without you, Alucard? Can we not just... not have you for a little while? Can Richter just grow the fuck up, have his little character arc, get fucking corrupted, and THEN your dumbass comes back from Hawaii or wherever your dumbass has been for the past 300 years since your threesome fucking DIED? I honestly don't even care if they decided to have him do a world tour instead of going to sleep for 300 years, just. COME ON.

They shouldn't have named it Castlevania. It should be more like: Nocturne: Fuck you, Richter, the girls called for Alucard. Nocturne: The Chronicles of a Sidekick. Nocturne: My Mommy died.

"Nocturne: My Mommy Died" made me spit out a lung because yes! Richter literally bonds with people through dead moms! 😂

writing.jpg

(but he makes sure to specify that Annette had it worse, of course, which gives me lovely S1 flashbacks of Annette looking down on him and calling him a child who doesn't know much of the world)

Anyway, I could talk about how the first show wasted the very idea they had, which is that Trevor is important to the gang because he's the Night Creature expert and because of his heritage he has all the tools and knowledge necessary to take out any vampire (since Dracula goes down attacked by his own depression, and Alucard is a massive cunt to Trevor precisely due to his Belmont heritage that he needs), or that it is incredibly obvious that the only reason the story jumped to 1792 is only so that they could bring back Alucard the fandom blorbo and provider of fanservice, who cares about some rando like uhhhhhh Simon Belmont... but your rant is a work of art and I want to print it and frame it on the wall. Beautiful. I'm in tears. I have nothing else to add.

[stqrcies]

a little ramble about my current favorite ship .. mk x tang ! i'm very sleep deprived .

read more because it's a bit long ...

i love them together so much . i do love peachynoodles and inkypages , but tang x mk will always have my heart . there is only ONE FIC on ao3 . i might have to write my own . ugh . THEY DONT EVEN HAVE A SHIP NAME . i tried to make up some ship names but they're already taken . augh . i guess i'll stick with mk x tang for now until i think of something better . i will start this tag . i will die on this hill . i'll call them " write my biography " because tang's basically writing mk's biography . these will be my brand new tags . i am starting something . i hope these aren't new tags because i wanna see some mk x tang content but i guess they are new :( ( edit : tysm @/plumsyfruits for making a ship name !! i've decided brothbook :3 )

IM SO UPSET THERE ISN'T MORE CONTENT OF THEM !! they're so cute to me i need them to kiss !?!

anyway ! here are some of my personal headcanons i really like to think about ! tw tiny ed talk !

tang is broke + got evicted , so he lives with mk in the noodle shop . tang's always the big spoon and he reads MK legends before bed , EVERY NIGHT . he knows how to make a meal out nothing ( ex. bugs , flowers , grass , anything free he can get ) , but he doesn't like to cook because he doesn't know how to make things taste good . he acts lazy , but while MK is working he cleans up the entire apartment before going downstairs to eat . tang struggles with binge eating + mia ( not due to body issues , but due to food guilt ) , but he doesn't like to throw up around MK , which basically cured his mia because he's constantly around MK . he has horrible abandonment issues , but he's the type to not let it show . he'd say it as a ' joke ' , but he'd break down if whoever actually left . he didn't have a childhood , as he was made to work from a young age , which causes him to want to do noting all the time . he'll always somehow scrape enough money together to buy MK a birthday present , christmas present , anniversary gift , ect . he / him , bisexual , still struggling to accept himself . everything makes him nervous and he feels like he's walking on eggshells 24 / 7 , which makes his voice higher pitched . tang was 17 when he started helping pigsy take care of 6 y/o MK . currently , he's 30 . sometimes he writes " tang x wukong x mk " fanfics for himself and mk to obsess over . undx autistic , he wants to get a doctor's opinion but he's too nervous to find out if he actually is autistic or not . he's medium needs + has very bad social anxiety . he also has an extreme , irrationality fear of ever getting pregnant , even though he knows he physically can't . ( that one scene where the woman offered him the river water ) . he wants kids , but he feels like by the time MK's ready , he'll be too old to properly care for them .

MK physically can't fall asleep if he isn't read to . he's also iffy on sleeping without tang . he's always the little spoon , unless he has a nightmare . he'd wake up in a cold sweat and make tang be the little spoon , just so he feels more comfortable , since he'd be ' protecting ' tang . he hates cooking because he hates doing dishes , and he's scared of boiling water / hot oil splashing and burning him . he very much wants to avoid any and all possible pain . his favorite thing to do is to curl up next to tang and fall asleep to the sound of tang reading a legend , or whatever latest chapter tang added to the biography ( mainly because its one of the only times tang's voice isnt high pitched from nerves ) . half the time MK forgets to eat , so he'll eat tang's leftovers . he also has abandonment issues , but he's more vocal about it . he didn't have an early childhood because he came into existence as a toddler . he / xe , intersex transitioned transboy and he doesn't care to label his attractions ( but he's into all genders ) . MK doesn't remember tang helping raise him at ALL . hell , he doesn't even remember anything from birth to age 10 . he's currently 19 . dx low needs autistic w adhd . he wants kids , but he's scared of them getting hurt or being held hostage by demons . he wants to make the world safe before having kids , but he also thinks tang doesn't want any due to him not talking about it .

if anything , in public tang acts like the innocent younger one while MK acts as his protector . around close family / friends ? ... the same . alone ? also the same . tang's living the life he never had and MK's all here for it .

[mins-fins]

should've been me.

&&. you're in love with him, that's great! all he's gonna do is use that to his advantage.

pairing: lee donghyuck x m!reader

genre: angst yummy

warnings: um uh.. sexual content??? (like mentions), the stress of friends with benefits, mentions of drinking, this relationship is very unhealthy

word count: 1.3k

notes: stole fwb hyuck from jj im so sorry but hes so………😢 um anyway so yeah he kinda really sucks here but hes so sexy and beautiful and a hashtag #malemanipulator😂 and reader just kinda takes it cause they're pretty pathetic if im being honest 🙏 (im so sorry but its true) (i quite literally wrote this) anyway DONT deal with people who treat you like shit you deserve better than that 🫵 i also wrote this in like 30 minutes at 1 am and river kept pestering me to sleep so thats cool 😆!

you're not exactly sure what your problem is.

you're not exactly sure what donghyuck's problem is either.

maybe the two of you were simply meant for each other, he's a drunk mess in your house and your a sober mess beside him. although compared to him, your better at keeping yourself in check for long enough that it appears your emotionally stable, hyuck is like.. how would you explain it? a ticking time bomb.

renjun calls him that, he's a disaster waiting to happen, even with how much he tries to put on a stupid calm act. yeah, he's smart, much smarter than most people give him credit for, but he is also much more impulsive than he likes to say.

case in point, he's absolutely wasted in your home right now, whining about some stupid thing his seventh fling said or something.

he's absolutely reckless.

the two of you have been a bit.. off for the past few weeks, your very aware that donghyuck is messing with different people, probably trying to get you out of his head after you two yelled at each other like there was no tomorrow.

he just always seems to find his way back to your house, even after all the times you try to turn him away, he always slides his way back into your life, one way or another.

and you always just let him.

you now realize how you seem like a pushover. wow, chenle actually wasn't wrong for once.

your frustrated, he just decides to waltz into your house, after two weeks of ignoring your messages and going around with other people, messing around with other people, staying over at their houses, pretending that you didn't exist, he always thinks he can just get his way.

it's not like you two are dating or anything..

but you hate that it hurts.

"okay— stop screaming" you put your hands up, but donghyuck doesn't stop talking, just lowering the volume of his voice, he just continues talking faster. you close your eyes, taking a deep breath, sometimes you feel more like his mom than his 'friend that's more than a friend but not his partner'.

"donghyuck, you need to— be quiet" you say, you somehow find yourself walking towards him and place your hands onto his shoulders. he has to look up at you to glare at you, and you almost laugh at the fact, you always teased him about it before, but right now he's glaring at you, a look he's shared with you at only certain occasions.

"don't tell me what to do".

"you're in my house!"

"well where else am i supposed to go, y/n? your the one who opened the fucking door anyway!" he retorts, still glaring at you like before. he's not crazy drunk to the point that he's stumbling over his words and talking like a crazy person, but he's also not that sober either.

not like you don't have so many more other people willing to drop down on their knees for you, why don't you just go to any of their houses instead?

that's what you want to say, the words rest on your tongue, itching to escape your lips so you can finally talk about what's been bothering you all this time.

you two aren't dating, you aren't exclusive to each other, your not.. an "item" or whatever, you two just both found something you could use to your advantage, and it's not like there were any rules when it came to you two, you guys had no control over what the other did with other people.

you have no right to be jealous.

so you refrain from saying that, instead biting your tongue and choosing the first thing that comes to your mind. "i didn't let you in, i opened the door, and you stormed into my house, and now you refuse to get out!"

"you're just such a little— bitch".

you'd kiss him if he wasn't being so aggressive at the moment, you can't say that he didn't look absolutely.. well— irresistible in a sense. if you weren't so stubborn, you probably would've pounced on him already.

but you stand your ground.

for once he can't get his way, you'll make sure of it.

"actually, i know what your deal is!" he shouts, accusingly, he walks up to you and points his finger directly in your face. his expression is a mix of pissed off and absolutely smitten, as if he's in love with you and wants to punch you in the face at the same time.

"oh yeah? enlighten me?"

"you're in love with me".

donghyuck leans close to your face when he says it, spitting out the words like they're poisonous, it's like he knows just how much you feel, like he's taking apart the thoughts that have been constantly plaguing your mind one by one.

you laugh, true words, but your not gonna let him know that. you allow your expression to become one of humor, and you raise an eyebrow. "i'm in love with you? please, get over yourself".

donghyuck doesn't falter. "you're just so bothered by the fact that i'm in someone else's bed, that i don't parade around you all the time, you always say you don't mind than get so sad when i'm not giving you a hundred percent attention, you whine like a baby when i'm not here for just a minute".

his tone is a teasing one, he's making fun of you, like he's about to jump at you and destroy all that you love. he wants to see you break, he wants to see you give in, wants to watch as you slowly melt and encapsulate his words, digest them, he wants you to feel every single letter that comes out of his mouth.

it's like he almost finds you funny, in a sense—

but your not that easy to break, so you just let out yet another bitter chuckle. "okay then mr. know it all, why don't you sit down and let me help you sober up?"

"your a coward".

you grit your teeth, he just won't stop fucking talking will he? he just keeps going on and on and on and on, at this point your considering pulling out the duct tape above your cupboard and shutting him up for good, but instead you close your eyes and sigh.

"why is it so hard to say, y/n? are you really that afraid of commitment that the best you can do is friends that occasionally mess around with each other?"

"donghyuck" you drag your teeth against each other. "if you don't shut up i swear to god i'm throwing you out of this house and making you sleep in the freezing cold".

it's an actual threat, not an empty one, donghyuck knows you well enough that he can tell the difference. so, stubbornly, he sits down, arms crossed over his chest.

your not sure why you always end up taking care of him, he didn't ask for you to, he just wanted to stupidly sulk on your couch, attempting to "calm" his mind after he screamed at you, staying silent after he basically read out all your inner most thoughts to you, like he just reached into your mind and pulled out all the things you'd been thinking.

"you always get so talkative when you drink".

you've gotten much used to ignoring how much you hurt when donghyuck yells at you, it's all become a little thing between you two, you argue, you sleep with each other, you forget it the next day, then go exactly back to that.

it's not healthy for either of you, clearly, it's more of destroying you than anything, but you don't even try to negotiate with him, just let him sit there as you contemplate, standing at your kitchen counter.

"i hate you" you mutter, instinctively cracking your knuckles as you say those words.

and yeah— maybe you do say that,

but your always gonna end up right beside him in the end.

[hockeyspiral23]

... I am still working on the soulmates thing, fyi ... just having to think of how I'm going to have to adjust canon to make it all fit ...

I spot a large rock up the river from the tree and perch on it. I came out here to avoid the post-Threshing celebrations. I don't know much about being soul-scarred beyond the fact that I am, but I do know that sex has never been fulfilling, and the older I've gotten, the more the mysterious scars gained from my soulmate ache any time I choose to fuck someone. It was a blessing with Cat - even she knows better than to fuck with Fate, regardless of how bitter it made her - but a curse with others. But I've always been raised to be a bit different. It's why I carry the marks of so many on my back, regardless of how it probably affected my soulmate - to me, there was no other choice - I had to live, or at least get the chance to. Movement out of the corner of my eye breaks me out of my thoughts. I look back at the tree and see a small figure slither down the trunk, landing softly on the ground. They're cloaked, well-hidden in the muted colors of the night; I'd wager almost invisible against the stones of the Citadel. I notice them turn slightly as if to look back, but, and it has to be a trick of the light and of the fog that's rolling in, I see a hand stopping them. "Or maybe it's Fate interfering again." "Can neither of us be curious?" Sgaeyl doesn't answer, but the answer is apparently not, as the fog gets thicker and obscures my soulmate completely from my view. I sigh, and go back to staring at the river. I feel every scar I've ever gotten from them tingle in harmony and then settle, bringing an ease and lightness I haven't felt in years. Now might not be my time to meet them, but at least we know the other exists now, and that reality, that knowledge, makes it all real, makes something slot a little more into place in my heart.

[rivereverie]

OC Wardrobe

Rules: Post pictures of your OC in the center. It can be other people wearing the clothing, It's just a moodboard.

Thank you for the tag @litsenn! I never found any clothes in the game really suit River's style, so this was fun! (I tried to find pictures that matched what I had in my head as best I could. I'm bad at fashion and collages)

River starts out as a sorcerer, mostly wearing plain robes and practical tunics, but ends up in armor most of the time after swearing her paladin oaths. She dresses first and foremost for sensory comfort, and prefers soft, flowy fabrics. She also loves cloaks—they're comforting and look cool. For leisure, she likes long skirts, flowy pants, and oversized tops. In terms of color, she prefers dark, slightly muted shades. She doesn't usually go for anything especially eye-catching, and sticks to subtle patterns and embellishments. She has a hobby of collecting rocks and minerals, and likes wearing them as pendants, sometimes. She typically has her hair in twin braids while out exploring and fighting things, and wears it down when at rest.

She doesn't enjoy being perceived in general, and has never really explored fashion for the sake of personal expression. She doesn't really like to think about how she looks (for a few reasons); she just wants to exist, comfortably, and has a bit of a rigid comfort zone. Astarion, however, encourages her to try new styles, and is always trying to pick out her outfits. She's happy to let him, sometimes, because he enjoys it and truly is good at styling things. I imagine that her post-game life would give her the time and freedom for exploring her personal style more. Tragically, she cannot borrow Astarion's clothes because they would not fit her.

River probably started caring more about how she looks after meeting Astarion and starting to fall for him. But frankly, being on the road for weeks/months, routinely covered in sweat and blood, kind of forced her to let go of any concern for looking good. Incidentally, Astarion loves the sight of her covered in sweat and blood.

I'm still working on my take on her Dark Urge backstory (still relatively early in my playthrough), but I imagine her appearance was even less important to her in the past. She likely wanted her presence to speak for itself, without embellishment. Past River was probably pretty pretentious like that lol

I don't know who has been tagged or done this yet but @ranger-jahen and @burnt-by-marigolds if you want to participate!