#how do you blame a heart that's failing when it's also doing its best while it can?

[5mcsinatrenchcoat]

a faulty heart

[luviestarz]

jungkook fic recs! 💘 part 2

𖤐 Champagne Confetti ⋆ j.jk - @busanboykoo (“you won't regret me, champagne confetti” or maybe just jungkook wants you to tell him what you want him to do to you.)

𖤐 oh how you love longhair!jungkook . . . - @twilghtkoo

𖤐 Your boyfriend looks a little too good in his police uniform. - @badbtssmut

𖤐 e s p r e s s o - @joonberriess (boxer!jk)

𖤐 trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m) - @euphorajeon (a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.)

𖤐 Don’t Blame Me | sugar daddy!jungkook one-shot au - @ctrlsht (You can have everything you want and need as long as you have Jeon Jungkook by your side. You were enjoying everything that Jungkook gives you and as long as you’re with him. You’re sure to yourself that you will never fail him but he was the one who failed you. Everything is fine until he gets too much.)

𖤐 WELCOME TO THE HEARTBREAK SHOW ── jungkook - @numinousher (you’re in love with your partner in class that everyone fears (and loves) due to his stoic facial expression and the way he rejects girls rather harshly. as you get to know him, will he be able to handle your heart that you so willingly gave him to care for or, will he break it due to his hatred for people who are in love with him?)

𖤐 It’s hard to stop but once it starts, it starts - @byuljoonie

𖤐 concrete king. (m) jjk - @bratkook (when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor theres no way you could ever say no to him)

𖤐 baecation - @1kook (“Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart.)

𖤐 test your morality (jungkook) - @trivia-yandere (jungkook's morality is tested when he's woken from his unconscious state to find you - his best friend - bound before him.)

𖤐 Needy | jjk oneshot - @jkslipppiercing (your boyfriend often helps you set up for your weekly girls' night...what happens when he gets needy for you only 15 minutes before your girl friends arrive?)

𖤐 ESCAPISM | JJK - @wnderkoo (୨୧ lipstick smudged like modern art..)

𖤐 Vérités Cachées (JJK) - @bangtanficsforyou (You try to make an escape from a beast, that you happen to have encountered while on a vacation with your boyfriend.)

𖤐 lonely hearts club (m) - @dovechim (jeon jeongguk has annoying little brother energy™. you know this deep in your bones. wedding after wedding, you keep running into him at the goddamn singles’ table, and he just won’t leave you alone. until you start to wonder... is he your ticket out of the lonely hearts club?)

𖤐 By Its Cover (M) - @gimmesumsuga (The one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.)

𖤐 The Deepest Marks of Essence - @lleldey (When you found yourself circled by a tribe, you never thought it would lead you to tap into your deepest wants and desires. You are the oldest child, the example of how one should act at all costs, but if you ever manage to escape this maze and if your story ever becomes told, you’ll never be looked at the same. But it’s hard to regret it when your nights are spent with gentle caresses and starry midnight skies. You got everything you secretly longed for, but at what cost?)

𖤐 every hour, every minute. (m) - @aajjks (jungkook can be an animal when it comes to fucking you sensless.)

𖤐 ONCE AGAIN, MILAN ! - (nsfw) - @frmisnow (what happens when you and jungkook find yourselves once again in milan, this time with no business attached — well a hol' lotta sex for sure!)

[bizarrelovetriangel]

walk away.

zayne unexpectedly sees you months after leaving linkon, but you weren't alone. and it hurts more than he'd like to admit.

angst with no comfort. spoilers for death and rebirth.

It's been seven months since Zayne left Linkon. He's slowly getting used to his new life in a smaller city faraway, doing his best to move on from his previous one.

But then, one day, he sees you in his new favorite cafe, and his heart stops.

He froze outside of the cafe, looking at you through the transparent, partly decorated, giant glass window that shows off its interior and most of its customers.

Even though this city is miles away from Linkon, there you were, happily taking a sip of your iced coffee despite the cold weather and every surface of the streets damped from the light rain that shows no sign of stopping anytime soon.

He can't help but chuckle, as your drink is exactly the same one that he was just about to order.

His eyes instinctively fixated on the features of your face. He'd never forget a single detail, even if he wanted to, because you're constantly in his dreams, day and night.

For the most part, you look the same, except for your eyes. There was something about them that seemed a little... different. They were lacking their usual sparks that he always loved.

Maybe you were tired and stressed. Could it be from work? He did leave Linkon at such a chaotic time. In order to truly move on, Zayne tries not to check in the news regarding his old hometown. However, he's certain that the Hunters Association have yet to have a peaceful day, hence why you're currently in another city while dressed in your hunter uniform.

Maybe you're losing sleep due to your search for the truth about your past, and whatever else could be tied to it.

Zayne wouldn't blame you, especially since he's still having that same issue as he unpacks the complications of his past, present, and future. He's also working on getting comfortable with his own body, which hasn't been easy due to the memories and nightmares that torment him.

Whatever the case may be, at the very least, coffee hasn't failed to bring a smile on your face.

And it only widened as soon as the empty chair next to yours became occupied and you were joined by someone else.

From the closeness of your chair and the way your bodies are angled as you face each other, Zayne had a suspicion that you two are quite close.

How close, he couldn't tell.

Or maybe, he had an idea that he couldn't seem to accept.

Zayne felt his chest tightening as he watched you laugh at something the man had said to you. He wanted to move closer just so he could hear your voice and your laughter.

He hasn't forgotten how you sound like, but he found himself desperate to hear you, even just for a minute.

Zayne recalled a moment when he made you laugh, and he remembered feeling so elated and proud of himself.

He wondered if your companion is feeling the same.

To be the reason for your joy is a privilege, Zayne wants to tell him.

To not take it and you for granted, because life is scary and unpredictable and any moment could be the last time he'd ever see you smile.

And before he knows it, he'd only be seeing you in his dreams and dreams alone.

Zayne couldn't tear his gaze from you.

He's glad to see you looking happy and that there's someone that's looking after you and making you smile and laugh.

And yet still, he can't ignore the unpleasant feeling in his stomach.

He's not angry or upset at you or your companion. It's more like... it hurts that he can no longer make you happy like that.

He is no longer in your life.

Have you forgotten about him?

Have you thrown away all the plushies that he'd won for you?

Did you completely erase every trace of him from your life?

If he were to walk in the cafe right now, would you scream at him? Or would you ignore him as if he's a mere snowflake falling from the sky and act as if you don't know him at all?

To have those eyes look at him like a stranger.... he's not sure if he'd be able to take it.

He hates that his body has gone numb and his feet feel stuck on the ground, unable to go in the cafe and show his face to you.

He hates that he can only admire you from afar, without even hearing the voice that haunts him as he sleeps.

Zayne so badly wants to sit with you and have a drink with you while listening to you ramble about your work, the random items you bought while shopping, the silly yet interesting articles that'd keep you up at night, and the games that's been distracting you lately.

And most of all, he wants to feel you.

He wants to hold your hand and embrace you.

He wants to feel the warmth that you'd always provide him, never failing to comfort him whenever he's upset, tired, or stressed.

He always felt safe with you.

But you weren't safe with him.

And that's exactly what kept Zayne from fighting off all the strength in his body to run to you.

He recalled your last moments together and he'll never forgive himself for hurting you again. For as long as he's around, he's a danger to you.

He cannot get close to you.

Not again.

Even if every cell in his body yearns for you.

As much as he wants to make you smile, he'd rather keep you safe and happy, even if it's with someone else, even if he's a million miles away from you.

And so, Zayne finally got the strength to walk away from the cafe, never looking back despite the growing pain in his heart.

[slvbum]

ᤢ ♥︎⠀ 08⠀‌⸻ angel tears / rafe cameron!

content WARNING: insolation.

The mansion was quieter than Rafe had ever known it to be. He was used to coming home to the soft clink of dishes, the warm aroma of YN’s cooking: herb-roasted chicken, lavender shortbread, meals he’d lately dismissed with a sneer. But the past few days, there was nothing. No warm plate waiting, no shy smile greeting him at the door, no trace of the wife he’d moulded into his perfect doll. The absence gnawed at him, though he wouldn’t admit it. He knew she was hurting, losing the baby had shaken her. In his mind, he was doing the right thing, giving her space to heal, waiting for her to snap back into the Y/N he needed: perfect, obedient, his. He figured a few days, maybe a week, and she’d be herself again, flitting around the kitchen, eager to please him. That’s how it worked, wasn’t it?

She’d always come back.

Weeks passed, and Y/N stayed locked in the guest room. Rafe noticed her absence in fragments and glimpses through the mansion’s cameras when he checked them at work. She’d wander the halls when he wasn’t home, her slender frame draped in silk pyjamas, cream-colored and flowing, her hair loose and unstyled. She looked beautiful, like a painting he could see but not touch. The maids cooked now, their meals competent but soulless... overcooked steak, bland salads, nothing like Y/N’s delicate touch. Rafe ate in silence, the clatter of his fork against the plate too loud in the empty dining room. He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask the maids where she was or what she ate. He told himself it was patience, not neglect. She’d come around soon enough.

And for Y/N, the guest room had become a sanctuary, its four walls a shield against Rafe.

Your fault. You killed our baby.

His words looped in her mind, but as the days stretched into weeks, a new clarity emerged. Rafe didn’t care about her, not really. If he did, he’d have knocked on her door, asked if she was okay, if she’d eaten.

He didn’t. Not once.

He only cared when she was smiling, cooking, playing the perfect housewife he’d caged her into being. She was invisible to him unless she performed, and the weight of that truth made her chest ache.

Even so, guilt gnawed at her. She felt terrible for hiding, for locking herself away, for mirroring the silent treatment Rafe used to punish her when she “misbehaved.” His punishments were a cold withdrawal that left her scrambling to please him, to earn back his approval. Her silence was different—born of exhaustion, not cruelty—but it felt wrong, like she was failing him by not trying harder to be his wife. She didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to face the man who’d blamed her for their baby’s death, who’d shoved her away for a sticky thumb, who’d laughed with a ginger woman while she bled alone. But the thought of losing him entirely terrified her.

She did her best to keep her mind calm. She spent her days reading books she found in the mansion’s neglected library; worn paperbacks of Jane Austen, fairy tales, and poetry that spoke of freedom. She’d curl up on the bed and lose herself in stories. The books were a lifeline, their pages whispering that she wasn’t alone in her longing for more. She also started writing, a small journal she kept hidden under the mattress, its leather cover soft from her constant handling. She filled it with fairy tales, stories that spilt from her heart.

Her favourite was a tale she hadn’t even named yet.

She wrote it in looping script. In the story, a beautiful princess was locked in a golden tower by a charming but selfish prince. He told her she was too pretty for the world, that his love protected her, but his words were lies to keep her his alone. He’d bring her jewels and dresses, but never freedom, his smile hiding a heart that cared only for possession. The princess, naive at first, believed his love was enough until she saw the world beyond her window: children laughing, markets bustling, skies wide and open. She began to dream of escape, climbing down the tower when the prince was away. She fled to a village where she taught children to read.

Y/N wrote the story with trembling hands, her eyes blurring with tears as she realized it was her story, her fear of Rafe disguised as fiction. She hid the journal each morning, afraid he’d find it, afraid he’d see the truth she was only beginning to grasp. She missed the Y/N who’d baked with joy, who’d dreamed of teaching, who’d believed Rafe’s love was real. Now, she saw his silence for what it was: indifference, a punishment worse than his yelling, a sign that he’d let her waste away in that room if it suited him.

One evening, Y/N sat on the bed, her journal opened, and she wrote a new line:

The princess learned that love does not lock doors.

She stared at it, her heart pounding, the words a mirror to her marriage. Rafe’s absence, his refusal to check on her, was a lock he’d turned, leaving her to rot in her grief. Y/N wasn’t sure she could weave a rope to escape, but for the first time in weeks, she felt a flicker of willpower, fragile, but it was there.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ©slvbun(m) — written with love.

[sleepingdeath-light]

platonic yandere hcs with a younger sibling!reader ; lute

requested by ; yandere-dark-cupid (01/05/24)

fandom(s) ; hazbin hotel

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; lute

outline ; “Platonic Yandere Sera or Lute HCs please. Can the reader as be their little ( gn ) sibling too?”

warning(s) ; yandere!lute, obsessive behaviour, overprotective behaviour, abusive behaviour, social and physical isolation, manipulation, physical violence, threats of physical violence

lute wasn’t always like this. wasn’t always so controlling, so manipulative, so violent… or, rather, she wasn’t like that towards you

sure, she did get a kick out of riling you up and mocking you when you were younger — but that was never anything more than typical sibling bullying. your friends all experienced much the same with their own older brothers and sisters, after all

and sure she never held back too much when you trained together, and you frequently found yourself stumbling back home with more bruises than bare skin — but she’s an exorcist and roughness is just second nature to her, it wasn’t like you were the only person subjected to it. besides, she never pushed you too far and was always there to help you recover afterwards

and sure she never took too kindly to any of your past partners, and you can’t even count on two hands how many potential friends she scared off just by being her generally intimidating self — but she was only doing it to keep you safe, and goodness knows you’ve missed more than your fair share of red flags in your lifetime so you can’t really blame her for being skeptical. plus it wasn’t like she drove off everyone; hell, she even used to help you buy gifts for your best friends’ birthdays because she liked them so much

protective but never overbearing, a bully but one that never took things too far, not afraid to rough you up but also not afraid to rough up anyone else who tried to threaten you — a normal sister, by all accounts

but then when adam died, something switched in lute’s mind and its like she became an entirely different person virtually overnight

it started with her having you move into her apartment with her, not giving you much choice in the matter as she weaponises her position as an exorcist to have you evicted and relocated to her home while you were out working… before weaponising her grief to guilt trip you into accepting the change and dropping the argument altogether

and then she became much more obsessive about your whereabouts — needing to know where you were and who you were with at all times, and becoming extremely argumentative and bitchy towards you whenever you failed to keep her updated on your every movement throughout the day. hell, if heaven allowed for such an app to be created she would have placed a tracker on your phone in a heartbeat

and when the hourly updates no longer sated her paranoia, she took things further and did everything she possibly could to cut you off from your social circles — interfering with your work and threatening your colleagues so you’d be fired, intimidating all of your remaining friends until they back off and cut you off completely out of fear of her doing something to them, using her status to get you run out of your favourite locations, etc. — and not stopping until she is all you have left. until you have no choice but to spend all of your time with her because nobody else will so much as look at you other than your poor, grief-stricken older sister… what a shame

ideally, for lute, at this stage you’ll just accept your fate and let her take care of you. you’re her baby sibling, after all, and she’s only doing this to protect you from the horrors of the outside world — horrors that, as an exorcist, she’s very familiar with by now

you’ll stay at home, or right by her side, and slowly you’ll realise that she’s only doing this for your own good and that she truly does have your best interests at heart — even if she’s still a bit too emotionally constipated to actually say any of that to you

but if you don’t accept your fate? if you start fighting back and questioning her and rebelling?

oh

well

you really won’t like what follows

because lute isn’t above getting violent with you to put you back in your place. she isn’t above beating you until you’re unable to walk, she isn’t above breaking your arms and legs to force you to rely upon her for everything, and she isn’t even above cutting off your wings to stop you from flying away. she’ll go as far as she needs to, get as bloody and cruel and gruesome as it gets, because when it comes to keeping her baby sibling safe there’s no line she will not cross

and it’s not like she doesn’t warn you about it either — she gives you warning after warning, chance after chance, outright telling you what will happen if you keep biting at the hand that’s trying to feed you, so past a certain point… well… isn’t it your own fault for being such a stubborn brat?

she’s just trying to keep you safe

why are you being so fucking stubborn?

you know what happened to adam, what those monsters did to him, and one of those fucks is in heaven now so she can’t take any chances

they killed adam

why can’t you grasp how serious this situation is? are you dumb?

she’s putting everything on the line to protect you, lost an arm to keep heaven safe from those creatures…

and you’re bitching because you don’t get to see your friends anymore?

fucking pathetic

she’s doing all of this for you — it’s not her fault you can’t see that

it’s not her fault you refuse to see what’s right in front of you

… you’ll thank her for this one day, she knows it

and then things can finally go back to normal

[an-android-child]

Okay with a hand over my Jason Lover Heart™

That bitch is not a prince. He's a wild beast at best. The thing that roams the forest, the wolfman who refuses to turn back into a human, even when there's no full moon anymore.

But also the idea that Jason and Damian have in common the fact that they're outsiders is like... Not true lmao

Damian, if anything, desperately tries to fit in. He does what he believes is expected of him. The blood son shall rise above the others, so he fights and demeans the rest, the inferior ones. The heir shall inherit everything, so he tries his damn hardest to be the best possible heir at all times, no matter the cost, because that's what heirs do. It's what he believes is expected of him. Everything's a test, a trial, and the moment he fails, the moment he lets his guard down... "Off with his head", as the story goes. He wants a place in his family so, so desperately, he's just doing what he believes is correct, what he believes will finally get him what he's been born and raised for. And yeah, this attitude not only affects Damian, but the others as well in very harmful, tangible ways, but here's the thing... Once he internalized he didn't have to act so hostile to be accepted, he mellowed out. He doesn't want to be fighting all the time. He is kind at his core, in a way not even Ra's was able to kill. He likes animals and has many friends and maybe he'll never get rid of his prickly exterior, but he loves so, so much, and in such a painfully obvious way.

Now compare that with my beloved Jason "I Love Burning Bridges" Todd and ummmmm. It falls apart lmao.

Jason actively wants to hurt others. Actively wants to be completely alone so he can pity himself for his loneliness. Because, in a painfully childish way, he believes he's been wronged so, so deeply, that this is the only way Bruce will be able to prove, no, to redeem himself. By burning all the bridges again and again and again, he expects Bruce to burn himself trying to get to him. Every. Single. Time. He wants Bruce to prove he cared, and he wants him to do it by destroying himself, by changing irrevocably, by proving his death mattered. And the only way he wants that proof is by seeing him hurt by his own hand. But the moment he gives up on him, because the only thing he does is hurt and attack, the moment Bruce decides this is the last bridge? He'll pity himself so, so much. What else could he have done? How else could this have ended? There was no other way, was it?

A dog that wants to be pet while he bites your fingers.

Jason, at his best, is a tragedy in it's purest form, a Shakespearean one, at that. Everything could have been different, but it isn't. Because he chose wrong. And he decided to keep choosing wrong again and again and again. He could have changed his mind at any point. But he didn't. And he'll blame everyone but himself for it. And he'll keep choosing the same option while doing so.

In comparison, Damian is a story about hope. Hope for cult survivors, hope for the lost sheep that made its way back home to his shepherd, hope in the knowledge that what they raised you to become doesn't have to be what you are. Damian is hope in its purest form: a child learning to be a child. And of course, this is completely incompatible with a man who lost every possibility of childhood. Of hope.

Not all by his own design of course. It's not his fault! Not at the begining. He made a choice with his heart! He wanted to help his mom!

And he was killed for it

I do believe him "choosing wrong" is not a matter of morality. He would have always chosen to try to save his mom (even if he fails at that too). Hell, even if he knew she would betray him, even if he knew how the story would end. Because the child that was killed in that explosion was kind and sweet and liked to study and just wanted to have a mom so, so badly. And yes, he had been bad, and angry, and yes, he wasn't perfect, but he believed with all his heart he would always bounce back. Because he had the strongest safety net in the world.

That child died waiting for his father to save him.

And when his father, the embodiment of a mythological greek hero in all its glory, turned out to fail just like a man, like a protagonist in a shoddy play, then it must have been because he didn't try hard enough. It must have been because he didn't care, because Jason wasn't worth trying. And when, after years and years of accumulated hatred, he returns to see his father still alive, still living, still upholding his stupid morals, morals that mattered more than his own son, then that means his death, his life, they simply didn't matter.

And Jason is so blind in his rage, in his anger at the belief that he wasn't loved, in his hurt that he desperately tries to transform into anger with all his strength... That he fails to realize three people died in that warehouse.

[themattress]

Birth by Sleep was the point the KH series began going downhill. It was hyped up as a prequel that would answer a lot of questions, which it did...but it also had somehow mutated in development into something that went beyond that into recontextualizing the entire series rather than helping to logically progress it, which included heaps of blatant retcons that contradicted the previous games. All the new Keyblade lore in this game never went away and gradually consumed the series, as did its main villain for a long period of time. The anticipated fall-out of "save Terra, Aqua and Ven from their tragic fates" transformed into "save everyone from their tragic fates", undermining any dramatic weight the series had.

Yet despite that, it was on the whole executed quite well. I love the graphics, the music, the gameplay, the Disney worlds, the overall atmosphere, the new characters and their superb designs, the mini-games including the Command Board, and even the story on its most basic level plus clever writing/pacing by Daisuke Watanabe that shines through even Nomura and Oka's clunker of a script. It may not have lived up to expectations and was when the series jumped the shark, but there is so much good in it that keeps me coming back all the same.

I cannot stand Xehanort the Keyblade wielder as a character, for a multitude of reasons I don't want to relitigate here (I feel everyone ought to know them by now anyway). But despite that, there are three places where I actually enjoy him a lot - in Birth by Sleep where he's written as just the delicious wicked, unsympathetic villain of that story and origin behind Terra-Xehanort plus is voiced wonderfully by Leonard Nimoy; in Kingdom Hearts III's Re:Mind DLC where he's just treated as an enemy you can enjoy hating and beating up without thinking about him all that much plus is voiced wonderfully by Christopher Lloyd, and in the KH3 manga adaptation where most of the problems he suffered from in the game have been excised, from having his plan depicted as a new comeback rather than "the pre-destined master plan all along" to having the unearned pathos and dignity in his send-off removed.

358/2 Days is a mess, but it's.....how do I put it....a sincere mess. It's got the same dumb shonen anime vibe as KH2 did, but dumb shonen anime that are genuine and comfortable in being dumb shonen anime are charming to me, moreso that dumb shonen anime that overreach and try to pretend they're some avant-garde work in the way the KH series grew into from Dream Drop Distance and onward. I consider Kingdom Hearts, Chain of Memories, Kingdom Hearts II, the special editions of all three, the original Coded (the mobile game that doesn't exist anymore), 358/2 Days and Birth by Sleep to be the Golden Age of the franchise.

Xion kicked off many unfortunate trends that would contribute to the degradation of the KH series and as a character she's very shallow in how plot is put ahead of any form of distinct personality, but that plot wasn't half-bad all things considered (it should have been a disaster, yet it shockingly wasn't), and while her personality may be tepid her personal struggle is effectively portrayed and I can't blame people for getting invested and choked up over it.

Of course, I straight-up love the manga version of Xion. She doesn't qualify for this meme.

Kingdom Hearts III is an abomination of a story, just one shade removed from its direct predecessor Dream Drop Distance. It officially killed any interest I have in the franchise going forward. But much like Birth by Sleep, it's a damn well-executed game! The gameplay, while shallow, is really fun, and by God the Disney worlds are superb - they may be the most filler they're ever been plot-wise, but they've also never been better designed, successfully combining the best of KH1 and KH2 style design in a way BBS and DDD failed at while also cleverly incorporating different genres of gameplay that match the world's aesthetics. The Gummi Ship is a similar "best of both worlds" situation, I adore minigames like the Bistro, Classic Kingdom, and the Flan Heartless, and all the stuff brought about in the Re:Mind DLC (except for fucking Yozora) is fantastic (Data Greeting, my beloved!) So while KH3 being my final big experience in the KH series could have been better, it could have been worse too.

Under better circumstances many characters from the X sub-series and overlapping Lost Masters Saga could have had potential, but the writing is so bad that I just end up turned off of the characters altogether. Except Strelitzia. Despite (or maybe even because) her having some of the worst treatments of a female character even by this series' standards (which is saying something), I can't help but appreciate her. While I hate the "Keyblade wielder in ancient times" angle for all of them, something about the dynamic between Strelitzia, Lauriam and Elrena is endearing and adds a lot to the bond between Marluxia and Larxene that beforehand was just a shallow one rooted in mutual power-hungry aspirations. So even if I disregard literally everything else involved, I'd still want to headcanon Strelitzia as existing.

[ladylucksrogue]

An ask for Valentines 💕

Pairing: Rexsoka please 💙🧡

Shy kiss, from the kiss prompt list.

I think I would like the timeframe to be post-war, preferably no order 66 or that it happened differently. It doesn't have to be their first kiss though. I will leave it to you and whatever suits the story if it should be SFW or NSFW!

Thank you for this one! 💕💕

This one is definately an interlude in my Unexpected series. Takes place sometime after Shockwaves.

You don't have to read the series to appreciate this one, can be read seperate.

Also on A03

Rex read through another report, the words starting to blur, but he wanted to at least finish this one before he settled in for the night, or what was left of it. A glance at the chrono told him it wasn’t much. But he’d make do. He’d survived on far less sleep before. Four hours was practically luxury on a campaign. They were still en route, still in hyperspace, so things weren’t quite dire yet.

A warm hand reached out, fingers brushing over his bare stomach, just above where the sheets were wrapped around him. He smiled.

She had been so tired earlier, practically falling asleep mid sentence. He didn’t blame her. A full training session with the boys could wear out anyone. She’d taken a sonic while he de-kitted and got comfortable, emerging in the pajamas she’d picked up last shore leave. He had to admit, they suited her, cheerful and quirky, tookas and donuts printed all over the fabric. A bit silly, maybe, but they made her happy, so that was all that mattered.

Then again, even if she did command the battalion in them, the men would follow her without question. He had no doubt about that. But it was probably best not to test the theory, otherwise, he was almost certain they’d end up painting their General on the side of a LAAT in her PJs. Fear inspiring, really.

He was about ninety percent sure she was still mostly asleep. Her breathing was slow and even, her hand still except for the occasional movement of her thumb, brushing absently over his skin.

He exhaled, shifting slightly to get through the last of the report when she moved closer, burrowing under his arm, her face pressing against his side.

He adjusted, making room for her, his hand smoothing over her shoulder. Her lekku were cool against his skin. She always ran cold in space. The troopers all ran hot and the ship was kept at a lower temperature than was probably comfortable for her. But she would warm up against him. She always did.

He kept reading, absently tracing his fingers over her back, over the curve of her rear lek.

She made a sound, something between a purr and a snore.  She did that sometimes, and it never failed to make him smile.

And then, he felt it.  The whisper of her lips, against the side of his chest, so light he almost thought it was an accident.

Ahsoka was usually so bold, so fearless, so full of fire and energy and passion. Her kisses were the same.

This was soft, shy.  Breathtaking.

His hand stilled against her back as he glanced down, finding her eyes open now, watching him.

He smiled, and she returned it, sleepy, a little hesitant, almost as shy as her little kisses.

Then, she kissed the same spot again.

His heart ached with how much he loved her. He was sure she had to feel it.

“Cold?” he asked.

She nodded. “A little.”

He set his datapad aside, fussing with the blanket, tucking it more securely around both of them. “Come up here. We’ll see what we can do about that.”

“Rex…” she teased, the shy smile disappearing completely as a mischievous grin took its place.

His brain caught up to his own words a second too late. “I didn’t…I mean—”

Smooth, really smooth.

She knew what he meant, of course. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to turn it dirty on him. Not that he minded. He loved her for it.  Still, she still got him stuttering like a shiny around their first crush every damn time.  His mind always caught up just a little too late, realizing that he could have turned the moment in his favor, could have leaned into the teasing and made her blush for once. But by then, the opportunity had already passed, and if he tried now, it would just feel off.

She moved, sliding up his body, resting her head against his shoulder in a way that made sure her montrals didn’t hit him in the face. She reached up, brushing her fingers lightly over his jaw.

“I know what you meant,” she said.

“Good,” he muttered, still focused on the blanket as if that would distract from how flustered he definitely wasn’t.

She laughed, pressing another series of those soft, shy kisses against his jaw, his cheek, his temple.

Finally, he relaxed, exhaling as his arms wrapped around her, his hand finding the small of her back. She let out a slow breath against his neck.

He reached out, dimming the light beside the bed, not completely, but just enough that it wouldn’t bother them.

After a moment, she broke the silence.  “Me too, you know.”

Rex blinked, tilting his head slightly. “Hm?”

She touched the middle of his chest, right over his scar. But it wasn’t the scar she meant, it was his heart under her hand.

“What you were thinking earlier,” she said. “What you were feeling.”

His mouth went dry. “You love me?”

Her eyes met his, her lip catching between her teeth. Then she nodded. “I… was afraid to say it out loud, I think.  But I realized that’s silly. We’re going into battle in a couple of days. I shouldn’t be afraid to tell you how I feel.”

His chest ached. “I couldn’t get the words out either,” he admitted. “I do, though. Love you, I mean.”

She smiled, and it was so pure, so real.

“I’m really glad to hear that,” she whispered.

And when she kissed him again, it wasn’t shy.

It was deep, full of feeling, and even if she wasn’t projecting through the Force, he felt it, warmth, certainty, something that wrapped around him, something he never wanted to let go of.

[hangesfavles]

Kitties and Compromises

4.3k words. nonbinary hange x fem reader, but readers gender is only mentioned twice.

Summary: Hange really wants a cat, and you don’t. On your way to work one day, you hear a distant meowing in a sewer drain.

No warnings btw! This is sfw and just fluffy <3

a/n!: hi! i don’t usually write fanfics. this is actually my first time seriously sitting down and trying to write a fic, but i was inspired by an experience that happened to me fairly recently!! i’m not sure if i’ll write any more fanfiction, but if y’all like my writing you can send in a request, but i can’t promise it’ll be done quickly 😓 i’ll probably only write wlw, nblw, or nblnb! as for characters, i’d be interested in writing for hange, yelena (from aot), moira o’deorain, junker queen, chloe price, or hazel callahan! also ik not that many people will probably see this, but if you like hange fanfics puh LEASE check out @abbyslev on tumblr and @sweetgirl_r on ao3! bc i love their works and they’ve both indirectly inspired me so much! pls read their work its amazing <3 cross posted on tumblr and ao3, pls don’t steal my writing btw :3

What were the odds of something like this happening to you? ​​Hange simply must’ve been manifesting this into the universe. The day started just like any other, waking up in the morning next to your spouse, Hange. You always wake up before them, reluctant to leave the warm comfort of Hange’s embrace. Even when they’re asleep they find ways to be clingy, whether that be trapping your body against their own as they cage you with their arms or simply latching onto your back and nuzzling your hair, it always makes mornings that much harder. You always admire their sleeping face before leaving your shared bed; Their peaceful expression and lack of their usual eyepatch reminds you how much they trust you. You groggily slip out of their arms, eliciting their normal whimpers and sleepy pleas for you to rejoin them. You kiss their cheek, not even bothering to respond to their words. You know they won’t remember their words or your own regardless. You get yourself dressed in your boring, formal work attire required for your office job. After fixing your hair in the mirror, you head to the bathroom first. You grab your toothbrush from the holder, smiling as you do so. The sight of Hange’s toothbrush next to your own always makes your heart flutter. Despite having lived with them for quite some time, you always fall victim to the butterflies in your stomach when you see your items mixed with their own. Simple things, like their “Best teacher” mug gifted to them by one of their students next to your plastic and faded Hello Kitty cup you’ve had since childhood, or your coat hanging on the same rack as theirs.

Your next stop is the kitchen. You always make lunch for yourself as well as Hange the night before, otherwise they’ll skip lunch entirely or on rare occasion buy fast food. It never bothers you, though. You love being able to do nice things for them. You know they appreciate it, because they send sweet ‘thank you’ messages along with a photo of them eating it every day without fail. Seeing their smile while eating the food you prepared specifically for them makes your effort completely worth it. You grab your food, placing it into your bag.

The third and final place you head towards is the living room. You grab your laptop- previously discarded- from the coffee table and place it in your bag as well. You groan softly with annoyance as you remember how Hange had distracted you last night from finishing a particularly long assignment from your boss. You had been working diligently for a few hours before Hange arrived home, demanding attention from you. You can’t even blame yourself, because how could you say no to your loving spouse’s puppy eyes? Not to mention the fact they had also enticed you by offering to watch a new movie with you until it was time to make dinner. That’s another action that never fails to make your heart beat faster in your chest. They make dinner while you prepare tomorrow’s lunch, always on the counter closest to them. You sigh as you think about the fact you’ll have a little bit of extra work to do while you leave the house and enter your car to drive to work.

Hange loves you. Everything about you, and anything that comes with you. They love your day-to-day routine, never growing bored even when doing monotonous tasks and chores. Things they had hated previously have magically become more interesting, like grocery shopping or doing laundry. But even so, something felt… missing. They were 100% sure this feeling has nothing to do with the love they have for you, or the love you have for them. They undeniably and unconditionally love you, otherwise they wouldn’t have proposed to you. They knew early on into your relationship that they wanted to spend the rest of their life with you by their side. Because of this, they want to have a family with you. Neither of you had been particularly fond of the idea of having children- at least, not yet. Having a child is a lot of work, as well as an incredibly big time and financial commitment. They want a cat. They knew that they wanted a pet cat before they had even moved out of their parents’ house… However, they also knew that you were against the idea. They’ve been begging for the past few months about how badly they want to adopt one, only to be shut down by you, saying how expensive it would be to buy one, as well as the essentials for it: a collar, carrier, grooming supplies, litter box, litter, a scooper, toys, food bowls, food in general, as well as occasional vet visits. Between both of your jobs, you and Hange live comfortably. If the two of you agreed to cut back on recreational spending, they were sure buying a pet was within reason, but they knew you didn’t want to. You enjoyed being able to go on nice dates with them on occasion, to the movies, aquarium, dinner, art museums, and sometimes you even do escape rooms together. They also savor the dates you go on together, but that doesn’t stop them from asking you at least twice a week if you’ve warmed up to the idea of owning a cat. Spoiler alert, you haven’t. So imagine their surprise when they receive a video call from you in the middle of class, revealing you holding a dirty, gray kitten with one hand.

Really, what were the odds of this happening? After getting out of your car when you arrived at the office building, you hear loud, high-pitched cries coming out of a nearby sewer. Your kind heart wouldn’t and couldn’t ignore it. You follow the sound, crouching in front of the drain, that’s when you see it. The tiniest kitten you’ve ever laid eyes on, seemingly trapped at the bottom of a sewer drain. You jog as fast as your heels can take you, alerting your boss about the situation, telling him you’ll clock in as soon as you can help the poor thing. He graciously allows you to do so, a perk of being a dedicated manager. You jog back towards the drain, kneeling down to look at the kitten again. You were sure if you called the cops that they would take hours to show up, if at all. Instead, you search for the phone number of your local fire department.

Saving this goddamn cat was a long process. Who knew removing the cover of a drain would take so long? It had taken over two hours to remove the cover, and then another forty five minutes to lure the kitten close enough for the firefighter to grab. The kitten was left in your care after it was safely removed from the drain. Luckily, it was dry except for its paws. You were considering what you should do at this moment. The kitten doesn’t seem to have a collar, and you can see a few fleas crawling around on its back. You realize that you simply can’t place it on the ground to roam free once more, what if it’s hungry? What if it gets hurt or stuck again? You’re not sure you would be able to sleep at night knowing you abandoned the cat. You figure you should first and foremost take it to the vet to see if it possibly has an owner who microchipped it. Before doing so, you decide to do what any rational person would do, call Hange. You feel bad for bothering Hange when you know that they’re working, but you wanted to tell them what you’ve dealt with for the past three hours.

When Hange feels the vibration of their phone in their pocket, illuminating from your call, they know that they should answer. They hold their phone in their hand before glancing around their classroom, the eyes of their students peering at them curiously. They chuckle nervously. “...Ah, pardon me for a minute! My wife is calling me. Feel free to chatter while I’m away, just be sure to keep it down, okay?” They give the class an awkward thumbs up and a matching smile. They aren’t sure if you’ve ever called them while they were working, and they feel a pang of worry as they step out of their classroom and into the hallway to answer the call.

The look on their face was priceless. Their eye widens a little with confusion, their lips parting as if they wanted to say something, but they clearly have trouble finding the words. You speak before they do, explaining briefly how you heard the kitten crying, the amount of time it took to save the small creature, and how you plan to take it to a vet to see if it has an owner. After you’re finished speaking, Hange is quick to ask you “Can we keep it if it doesn’t have a chip? C’mon, pretty please? This opportunity is perfect! We won’t have to pay hundreds of dollars to adopt one, we just gotta cover the essentials!” They beg you, barely even stopping for breath as they plead quickly. “I don’t know, Han… Let me take it to the vet first. I’ll let you know what happens from there.”

Hange has been on the edge of their seat all day. You’ve been sending them updates, albeit slowly, considering the kitten is being tested for multiple things, like parasites, ear and eye infections, and other long term health conditions like feline leukemia. What they know so far is that the kitten is- according to the vet- probably a girl, not microchipped, and the poor thing is infested with fleas. You had mentioned to Hange that the vet said it’s a little bit early to tell if she’s really a girl, but that she currently looks like one. Hange has never been so attached to their phone at work before. They can’t help but glance at it between sentences, hoping to see their screen lit up by a message from you.

Today has been tiring, despite not even truly having gone into work. You’re stressed, nervous, and worst of all, bored. Your boredom doesn’t help your running thoughts. Instagram can only distract your brain so much when all you can think about is this kitten you’ve unwillingly bonded with. The longer you sit in the waiting room, the more you realize how worried you really are about being able to keep the kitten, despite your initial reservations about keeping a stray animal. She was just that cute. Throughout the whole car ride to the vet, she sat in your lap obediently, even curling up into a ball and purring. Not once did she cry or try to escape your lap. She had only started crying once you left her alone with the vet, and that broke your heart more than you’re willing to admit. You already feel like you have a bond with her, and it would be devastating if she happened to be sick or injured. What you’re waiting for right now is for her to use the bathroom. Number two is preferable, but they would work with number one if that’s all she could do. You silently thank yourself for stopping by a grocery store to get her some canned cat food, which she had eaten in the car on the way here. After waiting in the vet for a whopping 4 more hours, they had concluded all of the proper tests. The vet calls you back into the exam room, ready to talk about the results. Apparently, she ended up doing number 2 when she was left alone in a kennel. “Hello Mrs. Zoe!” He says with a friendly smile. “So, I’ll start with the bad news. Our little friend here has plenty of fleas, which I’m sure you saw already, and after running tests on her stool, I found that she does indeed have a parasite.” After hearing his words, you feel your nervousness festering more than ever. You nod at his words, urging him to continue. “But, there’s plenty of good news. The parasite is nothing life-threatening. She just needs to be medicated every day for a week. Other than that, she is entirely healthy. Do you plan on keeping her?” You think about your answer for a moment, but inside, you knew your mind was already made up. You had plenty of time to think about it in the waiting room, and you can’t deny the fact you’re already smitten with the small animal. You nod at him, a small smile appearing on your face as well. “Well, that’s great! You’ll have to come back tomorrow or the day after to pick up her medicine. We’ll give you a call when it’s ready to be picked up.” He flashes you another award-winning smile before leaving the room to retrieve the kitten. “Congratulations, she’s very well behaved.” He comments as he hands her back to you carefully. “Thank you, doctor. My spouse is going to be absolutely over the moon.” You giggle softly as you hold her once more and leave the office. You hold the kitten in one hand, and reach into your pocket to check the time on your phone. By now, it was almost time for Hange to get off of work. You sit in the car, the kitten once more making herself comfortable on your lap. You try not to think about her fleas as you take a moment to video call Hange once more.

Hange had just finished their last class of the day when you called. They were sitting at their desk, grading some old assignments before they officially left school. This was typical for them, because they absolutely hated dealing with the traffic caused by all of the other teachers, as well as students and school buses leaving the area at once. They see your call and immediately answer with a huge, dopey smile on their face. “Hi, love!” They exclaim, evidently excited for whatever updates you’re going to give them. When the video loads, they aren’t met with your dazzling beauty, but another small, adorable face. You can’t help but giggle as you look down at your phone, the angle making the kitten look funny. She paws the screen in front of her. “D'aww!! She’s so cuteee!” Hange squeals with excitement at the view. You giggle lightheartedly at Hange’s childish excitement. Their enthusiasm for the world around them was something that drew you in immediately about them, and it is still a trait that you adore. “Isn’t she? She’s so sweet and well behaved.” You move the phone away from the kitty, instead showing Hange your face. “Has she melted your cold heart already?” They tease with a soft chuckle. “Oh, shut up Hange!” You giggle at their joke anyways. “I’m just teasing, love. Soooo… Is she ours? Is she healthy?” They ask excitedly, but they already assume that the answer is yes, considering how happy you seem to be. “I just got done speaking with the vet, apparently she has a parasite.” You notice Hange’s lips part into an ‘o’ shape as you say this. You can also notice the concern morphing its way into their features. “But he said that after being medicated for… like… a week or so, she should be perfectly fine.” Hange’s earlier excitement makes a comeback, the worry melting off their features as they squeal a bit. “C’mon, we have to keep her!” They whine and plead. “You love her already, it’s obvious. Stop avoiding the question.” A pout forms on Hange’s lips as they try to convince you for the umpteenth time to have a pet. You sigh softly at their cute expression, giggling breathily at their antics. “I do love her. And you’re right, this is a perfect chance for us to have a pet since we didn’t have to buy her. I guess love is about compromise, or whatever… And since I know how much you’ve always wanted a cat, we can keep her.”

Hange had rushed home in record speed. It’s shocking that they got home in one piece without any tickets or crashes. You were right in the assumption that they would be over the moon about this perfect coincidence, Hange wanted to meet her more than anything. You have been home for a bit by the time Hange arrives at your shared home. They practically launch through the door, before realizing their excitement might startle the kitten. When you hear the door opening, you greet them at the door with your arms open wide. They quickly rush into your embrace, lifting you up and enthusiastically shaking you around. They place a chaste kiss on your lips before putting you on the floor once more. “Not that I’m not excited to see you, but where is she?” They ask with childlike excitement. They’re practically bouncing off the walls. As if on cue, a high pitched cry emits from the bathroom. “I have her in the bathroom right now and I put a blanket in there with her. We’re-” Your sentence is cut off by Hange making their way to the bathroom, carefully opening the door. You smile at their excitement, following after them. “Make sure she doesn’t get out. We’re gonna need to give her a flea bath before she can leave the bathroom.” Hange mumbles out a ‘mhm’ before kneeling beside the bathtub. The kitten is looking up at them with big doe eyes. Hange is doing all they can not to squeal and shout from how utterly adorable she is. You decide to take a seat on top of the closed toilet, simply content to see your partner so lively. Hange carefully outstretches their hand to the animal, who seems to back away the tiniest bit. “Heeeeyyyyyyy baby…” They whisper quietly. “Pspspsp…” The kitten sniffs Hange’s finger skeptically, but doesn’t react otherwise. They take this as a sign that it’s okay to pet her. Two of their lithe fingers scratch at the top of the kitten's head, much to her content. Hange mumbles sweet, hushed words to the animal that you can’t really hear. The world around you seems to grow blurry, as you tune out everything else that isn’t your partner and your newfound pet. There wasn’t anything else worth caring about at the moment. The tenderness Hange displays, a stark contrast from their typical erraticism, has your heart thumping in your chest. Hange has always been equally caring as they are observant. While Hange will probably always be excitable, they’re very aware of other’s emotions. They know when someone is overwhelmed or tired, or maybe shy and nervous, meaning they always know when they should turn it down a notch. Quiet moments with them were always your favorite moments. Moments where you two could simply be, without the need for conversation or action. Moments like this morning, where you can stare at their tired face without any ounce of uncomfort. Hange scoops up the kitten into their arms, holding her near their chest, seemingly unbothered by the fleas littering her body. They look up at you, smiling with their teeth and giggling. Their eyes are squinted shut by how much they’re smiling. Even as you’re lost in thought, not fully aware, you smile back at them unconsciously because it’s second nature. You snap out of your trance when you see a flea jump off of her body. “Yuck.” You say, squishing the bug with your shoe and picking it up with a piece of toilet paper. “I picked up some flea shampoo when I went to get her something to eat.” You say, holding up a purple bottle. “She won’t like this, but put her in the sink.”

The two of you have spent the better part of an hour picking the rest of the bugs out of the kitten's fur. The flea bath helped substantially, but there were still some that crawled around. Neither of you have spotted bugs for a few minutes, so you retire from your task, wrapping the small animal in a towel as Hange holds her, trying to transfer their own warmth to her. “She’s such a sweetie.” They coo softly, bouncing the kitty as if she’s a small child. “We should feed her soon. Did you get anything else from the pet store?” They ask, tilting their head at you as they ask. “No, she got really antsy when she was alone for too long, so I tried to run in and out as fast as possible. We’re gonna have to go back.” “Oh, but we can’t leave her to go out, what if she thinks we abandoned her!?” They ask you with puppy eyes. “We can’t take her out, she could still have fleas. I can ask someone to watch her while we go out.” You say, pulling out your phone to text one of your and Hange’s shared friends.

Levi and Erwin step into your home, the former appearing to be intensely displeased. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this on a weekday.” Levi grumbles, while Erwin smiles politely at you and Hange. “He’s being dramatic, it’s no trouble. You two will only be gone for an hour before we head home again.” Erwin chuckles, walking to the living room, where the now dried kitten sits on the couch. She runs and hides at the sight of so many people. “Thank you guys for doing this, I know it’s last minute.” You chuckle nervously at Levi’s obvious irritation. “We didn’t exactly have the luxury to give you notice, Shorty.” Hange teases, grinning as Levi rolls his eyes. “Whatever, three eyes. Get going so we can get home already.” Hange pouts, not only from the nickname, but also at the fact they’re being rushed out of their own home. You try not to burst out laughing at the nickname. “Three eyes is diabolical.” You choke out, opting to take their hand and head out, hopefully so Hange doesn’t feel embarrassed. “We’ll be back soon, thank you again!” You wave, before hopping in the car with a pouting Hange to get supplies for your currently unnamed pet.

Who knew shopping with Hange would take so long? You knew, actually. You were vaguely aware of the fact that Hange’s erraticism isn’t the best trait when trying to go shopping quickly. You’ve only been shopping with them a few times, and after an hour of bouncing around the store, it becomes a little bit tiring. This doesn’t even account for the many different random items they tend to pick up and insist they need. A similar thing happens when you attempt to shop for your cat. You asked Hange to find a decently sized litter box, and they come back to beg you for toys they think look funny, a bed shaped like a ramen cup, a hat for the kitten, and a matching onesie for her. You have to refrain from twitching your eye as they entirely forgot to get the litter box you tasked them to find. You end up putting the toys, bed, and hat in the basket, since you planned on buying her these things anyway. “Han... My beloved... You forgot the litter box.” You watch as they chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of their neck. “Right... Be right back.” They turn away, determined to get the litter box, (and only the litter box,) while you decide between two bundles of kitten food.

Hange finds you once more, looping their arms around your waist. You’re momentarily shocked, but you quickly recognize the scent of them surrounding you. They place their head on your shoulder, proud of the fact they managed not to pick up anything except the litter box. They poke your cheek, giving you a grin. When you turn your head towards them, they tap their finger against their cheek, silently asking to be rewarded for completing the task you gave them. You roll your eyes playfully and give them a soft peck.

You return home after an hour and a half, being slightly delayed by Hange’s typical short and ever-changing attention span. Erwin helps you and Hange bring in the bags of cat necessities. You and Hange tiredly plop down on your couch once you’ve finished, feeling tired from all the events of the day. Levi sighs from beside you. You and Hange look at him, seeing the cat curled up and sleeping on his lap. “This damn cat wouldn't leave me alone. Always craving attention, like it can't survive without constant petting. Needy little furball.” He grumbles. Despite his attitude, he still allows her to sleep in his lap, which you and Hange are both grateful for. He carefully picks her up, shifting her into Hange’s lap instead. They both try their best to ensure she isn’t disturbed by the transfer. You stand up as Levi does, seeing the couple out. “Thank you both again for doing this. We’ll see you guys on Sunday for dinner. It’s our turn to cook this week!” You giggle. Erwin pats your shoulder in a dad-like fashion. “Don’t mention it. Levi was loving the attention she gave him. See you Sunday.” He smiles. To this, Levi rolls his eyes, elbowing his lover lightly as you see them out.

Once again, you plop on the couch beside your own lover. They look at you with worry. “What are we going to do with her? She’s gonna be so scared if we leave her at home, all alone...” You raise your eyebrow, wondering where this conversation is leading. “I’m sure she’ll get used to it. It’s impossible for us to have someone watch her every day while we’re at work.” In response to your words, they cover the kitten's ears. “You’re evil! How could you talk about our daughter that way?” They pout, giving you puppy eyes. You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully at their joke. “You know...” They start. You look at them tiredly, knowing you probably won't like whatever comes next. “We could always get another to keep her company.”

[cosmicjoke]

Alright, so... Chapter 210 of "Vinland Saga"...

Excuse me a moment while I go cry in a corner.

Shit, man, this chapter got to me hard.

Spoilers ahead, for anyone who hasn't read it.

I'm so scared Thorfinn is going to die. He was shot full of arrows, just like his father. Hild saved him, and my immediate question is, "how?". Did she have to kill to save him? To get him on her back and carry him out? The fact we aren't shown what happened after she shot her arrow makes me think she did. Or did she manage to do it while only wounding the natives? She only had four arrows left, and there were more than four natives in pursuit. If she did have to kill to get him out, then I wonder how that's going to impact Thorfinn himself, assuming he survives. To know Hild will have had to take on that burden, of taking a life to save his, would be devastating to him, I think. In it's own way, it would almost be like a condemnation to him of his pacifist philosophy, that because he didn't want to kill, the burden of it has now fallen to another. I know Thorfinn would blame himself, even though this situation truly wasn't his fault, and spun out of his control due to forces beyond his power.

I really didn't expect this turn of events. I thought Thorfinn and Hild would take care of the pursuers in the forest and then make their way to the village. But Thorfinn clearly has a punctured lung from the arrow he took for Einar, and now he's been shot full of arrows, which, at the moment, I'm honestly having a really hard time seeing how he'll survive. His condition also totally takes him out of the game in terms of defending the village and its people at all.

And now Hild and him are faced with Plmk, and I have no idea if he's hostile or not. If he's hostile, they're fucked, which makes me think he's going to end up helping them, somehow. But even if he does, it doesn't do anything for Thorfinn's condition. Like I said, I'm really scared at this point for him.

And then there was Thorfinn's dream sequence, which was just heartbreaking in the extreme. His vision of Thorkill, basically saying 'I told you so', saying war would come to Vinland, no matter how hard Thorfinn tried to avoid it. And even more devastating, Ivar and then Einar, blaming Thorfinn for everything. We see here in Thorfinn's subconscious his true feelings, rooted in a sense of failure. We see how badly Einar's parting words to him have affected him. Einar's anger and bitterness toward him. I've spoken before about how it would, in many ways, be the ultimate sacrifice to his ideals, if Thorfinn were to lose Einar's friendship, his first and best friend, and the man who gave him a sense of purpose in life beyond his quest for revenge against Askeladd. If Einar truly ends up turning against him, if he refuses to leave, and takes the path of war, I don't see how their friendship can continue. Maybe that will change when he sees Thorfinn's condition, but realistically, I think him seeing what's been done to Thorfinn will only fuel Einar's rage and refusal to give up what they've built.

God, Thorfinn wanted so badly to make a land of peace, to atone for the sins of his past by creating a land of peace and saving more lives than he took, but now it's all gone to hell, and people have been killed. His vision of Einar telling him his experiment has failed, and that it was an important experiment, because it shows how peace can never really be achieved, shows the depths of Thorfinn's despair, I think, and the depths of his self-loathing. This is truly just a tragedy playing out before our eyes.

It's made all the more poignant, I think, by Hild's words to Thorfinn, telling him not to lose heart, telling him he wasn't wrong about anything, and if only the world were full of more people like him, maybe there really could be hope for a world without war. She calls Thorfinn precious, and I think that's true. But tragically, as we're seeing, the world isn't filled with people like Thorfinn, and that makes Thorfinn's dream an impossibility. There's always going to be someone who wants to start a war, there's always going to be someone who wants to take what isn't theirs, there's always going to be someone who wants to hurt you or those you love and care for, no matter how much you try to talk them out of it. The world is too complex and brutal for pacifism to ever be a reality, and that is a tragedy.

I don't know what's going to happen back at the village at this point, either. It seems to me anyone could die. Thorfinn was their best defense, and now he's out of commission.

Ugh, man, this chapter hit me on a deep, emotional level.

Don't die Thorfinn. I'll be devastated if you do.

Also, just again, shout out to Yukimura's art. I don't know how this guy does it month after month. His art is second to none.

[pathological-runaway]

Daleth's Flower Garden

Daleth tends their garden and thinks about the past.

ch. 8 (CAN BE READ AS A STANDALONE) ch. 1 prev (ch. 7) read on ao3 >>> next (TBA)

The sun peeks shyly from the clouds, giving the world a lovely purple tinge. Birds are starting to wake up and leave their nests hidden in the nooks and crannies of the temple, their quiet morning songs filling the whole place with life and hope.

But there are dark corners in the heart which cannot be lit by the feeble flame of beautiful sunrises and early singers, and those dark corners remain poisoned by a cold, distant feeling of sadness, an ache so familiar it is not possible to imagine existing without it. After so long, it feels like part of the routine, times when it was not present turning into vague recollections turning into unrealistic dreams. Time heals everything, they say, but that is not true. Time makes one get used to hurting. And getting used to hurting numbs the hurt.

And like this, the burden of the world’s suffering and the smell of blood spilled while you were avoiding meeting the butcher’s eyes become but one more pain in your back, another constant companion you have learnt to coexist with, whether you like it or not.

Days in Isle are all the same.

The sun rises early in the morning, and its wakening is a sign for the Isle Elder to get out of their bed, too. They do not hurry: they were never the one to do anything hastily when they were alive, and now that they are exempted from all, except for, perhaps, one, of their duties, there is no need for them to be on time for anything. Frankly speaking, there is no need for them to even go to bed and get up at all — but they prohibit themself from going down that road.

Daleth does not have anything to eat in their kitchen, all food they used to have gone bad centuries ago. Unable to leave their humble abode — or tomb — and with no living person inhabiting their realm, the Isle Elder has no way of getting any. They could request a gift from the rare winged visitors of Isle, but they feel uncomfortable asking for such silly things. They do not even need to eat, after all. Despite there being dishes they really miss.

So, instead, they make tea and sit down to read a book. Their library is big — has always been — and once, they were proud of having acquired so many sources of knowledge to share with whoever needed it. Now, there is little use in their collection, and Daleth goes through their favourite books by themself, reading and re-reading them until the thin pages start crumbling under their fingertips.

There is no salvation for the books: read often or standing solemnly on their shelves in an eternal slumber, they will eventually turn into dust either way. So, the Elder tries to make the best of it while they still can.

(They prefer not to dwell on what will happen after that.)

When they are done with the book, which may take a few minutes or entire hours, Daleth likes to tend their small garden. It is but a shadow of itself, and yet, they are reluctant to abandon it nonetheless: with how deplorable the condition of the whole once-beautiful realm is, they would rather continue fighting for the smallest piece of land that it is still in their power to take care of.

They water the flowers. They watch out for bugs. They stop to admire each little plant and encourage it to continue its battle for life. They feed the birds, afterwards, and have a chat with them about all sorts of things, events, places. The newer generations do not know who Daleth is, the tales of the Elder having left the birds’ collective memory long ago. Daleth does not blame them: not only have they been gone for hundreds of years, but they also failed to protect light creatures before that.

Well, they did not really fail to protect them: they did their best to help. But they still failed to save them.

(What good was their protection then?)

On the days when the Isle Elder is lucky, a few children of light show up and talk to them, too. Maybe they stay for a cup of tea and listen to Daleth’s stories, or maybe they tell some of their own. Sometimes, they show off new spells or moves they have learnt or ask the Elder to braid their hair. Sometimes, they just sit in companiable silence and watch birds together. Sometimes, the kids laugh. Sometimes, they cry.

There are no children visiting today. Daleth is not offended: they surely have more interesting things to do than wander the lifeless desert or listen to the Elder blabber on about the past. Daleth is not offended, but they do wish they had something more to offer. Something to make the kids stay.

Still, solitude has become their loyal companion, too. Just like pain and guilt and the dreams of a better life, loneliness is merely another part of their daily routine. It has its perks, after all. At least, it is easier to focus on them than on the downsides.

There are no children visiting today, and Daleth feels just alright. They look at the wonderful red poppies blossoming on the hill, and these remind the Elder of the enormous fields covered in flowers they saw a few times when visiting Shores. They were so fascinated back then by what seemed to be whole seas of red, bright petals hiding the stems almost completely.

Those fields were incredible. Gorgeous. But also scary, in a way. What is beautiful can be terrifying, too.

Daleth sighs at their lonely poppies and turns to look at the endless sand dunes where, had the world not met a premature death, more could be growing. They feel an immense sadness for the few ones that are destined to never meet the likes of themselves, alone and out of place here on the green hill amidst a desert.

Still, the Elder is thankful that their flowers at least have each other. They could not bear having only one poppy. They are sure it would wilt quickly, a lonely stranger lost in a garden it does not belong in, killed by its own broken heart and the distant coldness of those who do not know how to love what is unique.

Not knowing it used to be cared about.

***

The child looks scared.

Their shoulders hunched and eyes darting rapidly back and forth, they stand next to the wall, unmoving. Even the ceremonial dress and the perfectly combed hair cannot dissimulate their fear, and Daleth’s heart sinks at that expression. While they know that what comes next is possibly the biggest moment in the child’s life and it would be strange to not be feeling nervous before it, they cannot help but wish to help the soon-to-be Prince.

They are very young, after all. Very, very young. But Daleth believes in them.

The child eyes them with apprehension as they take a step closer, those big eyes staring at them, unblinking, as if expecting the worst. The Isle Elder notices that they clench their fists to hide their shaking hands.

It is clear they still do not trust Daleth with their insecurities. So, the Elder tries not to push too hard.

“Everything will be alright, Alef,” they say with their softest voice.

Alef looks like they do not believe them at all.

“What if it doesn’t?” they ask with a trembling voice and then look down in shame. “Your Grace.”

Daleth fights the urge to frown.

“You do not have to call me that, little one.” They smile instead.

The child’s expression is one of curiosity rather than that of fear. The Elder waits for them to maybe say something, but when it becomes clear they are not going to, Daleth puts a tentative hand on their shoulder.

“Let us go, Alef. It is time. I will make sure everything goes the way it should,” they add in an attempt to encourage the child.

They do not know if that is enough. They hope it is.

They continue hoping when they appear on the small dais, the Vault Elder by their side and the remaining Elders surrounding them, eyes of dozens of people on them. They continue hoping when the child starts walking up towards them, Daleth trying their best to meet their eyes; when they trip and almost fall, causing one of Samekh to snort (were Daleth not at the head of the ceremony, they would immediately berate them). They still hope, perhaps even harder than before, when Alef kneels before them, when Daleth starts reciting the long and convoluted words and when Alef makes a vow. When the Isle Elder’s hand performs the last gesture and rests on the Prince’s head and the remaining Stars give their blessings to the youngster, Daleth is almost sure that it is enough.

They know now it was not.

[wheeboo]

more soft hours sdkjfskd

imagine your blind date falling through and its super late at night but then best friend joshua comes to pick u up and you get mcdonald's or smth at like 11 pm. and hes is kinda sick of all ur dates falling through when he's fr whipped for you (kiss in the car 👀)

guys what if i make a oneshot of this

this turned out a bit longer than I thought LOL

but ugh!!! imagine the hurt you feel in your heart when you finally realise after a good half hour that your blind date had basically abandoned ship, and you're alone all dressed up in a nice outfit while spamming your friend best friend joshua on the phone.

he hears the way your voice is breaking from the tears streaming down your face as you stutter out the location of where you are so he could pick you up. and gosh, he knows he'll do anything for you in a heartbeat as he drops everything that he's doing before grabbing his keys and racing to his car, driving down the streets to come pick you up.

when he catches sight of you sitting down on the curve, he hops out of his car to come racing to your side, instinctively bringing you into his arms so you could melt into his comfort. and it's such a natural feeling between you two--comforting one another, such as the hugs that you exchange that you've always believed to be merely platonic and at the dangerous line of something beyond that.

"hey, I'm here," joshua whispers comfortingly, and you feel him rubbing circles at your arms. "come on, I'll take you to get some food. my treat, okay?"

you don't say anything, only giving him a nod as he leads you towards his car. opening the passenger door for you, you hop inside as he settles into the drivers seat. you don't exactly know where he was planning to take you, but you shouldn't be surprised when you arrive at a mcdonalds five minutes later.

joshua, being someone who has stuck to your side like glue for years, has always known your preferences for food, somehow even knowing your regular order for mcdonalds. and when you realise he isn't buying anything for himself, you muster the courage to ask.

"wait, what about you?" you ask him even though it was too late before he pulls up to the next window.

joshua only gives you a gentle smile, and for some reason you feel something leap in your stomach. "I told you, it's my treat for you. have to make you feel better somehow, right?"

before you could protest, he's already grabbing the food from the window and pulling up into a nearby parking space so that you could eat.

"I should've expected it," you mumble while unwrapping your food. "I got all dressed up for nothing. what's funny is that I... I knew that they wouldn't show up. I-I should've trusted my intuition more."

joshua just peers towards you, letting his eyes take in the effort you've put into your outfit.

"I think you look pretty." he says, but it's so quiet you barely catch it, and you feel the blush forming in your face.

"you always tell me I'm pretty."

he quirks a brow teasingly. "but am I wrong, though?"

that alone was enough to make you go speechless while chewing a french fry. what follows is silence, a mixture of comfort, a tinge of awkwardness, but also something unspoken between the two of you. sometimes you wonder how joshua manages to continue sticking with you throughout your constant failed dates.

"you must be sick of me," you chuckle awkwardly. "and frustrated for having to pick me up all the time from these stupid dates."

"I would never be sick of you, Y/N," then he pauses. "I care about you... a lot more than you think."

"but... but, you know that you don't have to stick around like this, you know? you could've stayed home and I wouldn't have blamed you for if you were tired of, like, doing this all for me-"

you find your words cutting off when joshua lands a sudden kiss at your lips, and your eyes widen out of your head when he pulls away with a satisfied grin.

"well, I chose not to," is all he says. "now hush and eat your food before I kiss you again."

[windywriter]

I think something a lot of people forget abt botan mikey is that he isnt doing this just to be cruel. Hes doing it because he cares so damn much. Like, the entire reason botan exsists (to me) is mikey's way of concentrating the cycle of violence on himself. Like, during the execution hes barely paying attention. Yes he shoots takemichi but i think he does it 1 bc his dark urges have so seemlessly melded with him he doesnt even hesitate to kill and 2 its a warning.

Like i feel like hes let botan become so violent and dangerous to 1) keep others from hurting those he loves and 2) to keep those he loves away from him. Like, considering draken's warning i wouldnt be surprised if he learned the hard way to not approach mikey anymore. Its a lil sad but i think mikey blames himself for starting this cycle of violence once he got a hunch abt shinichiro. So he takes the burden on himself. I mean, look at the executives of botan. Theyre scraps of tenjiku and the black dragons. Both groups that were important to Mikey's family and are both reminders about how he utterly failed them. Sanzu is also a sort of sour reminder to mikey abt what he did and turned him into.

Opinions/angst ideas below

Like if you did wanna do a self insert, mikey would probably push you away and act like he doesnt know you at best. At worst, well, we all saw how takemichi almost ended up. At most hed probably just send ppl to check up on you every once in a while. And even if you did somehow manage to stay with him, it honestly might be worse. Like congrats, you get to watch the man you love slowly descend into a husk of what he once was. You mightve been able to be one of the people who kept his dark urges suppressed but with everything that happened + his idea that he has to take on all burdens as penance. You will at best lessen the symptoms. If anything your relationship will probably devolve into the only thing keeping you two together is the faint attachment that Mikey has towards you (i mean he still eats taiyaki) and the scraps of your love diluted by pity and grief.

Itd probably be heart breaking when mikey realizes he cant let you go and you wont let go either. Like, youre fucked. The both of you are so completely and utterly fucked and theres no escaping it. You were doomed the moment you said you would stay. Bc youre the last thing that makes him feel anything besides misery and he is painstakingly familiar with what happens to people who are like that. So I feel like Botan Mikey wouldn't be a yandere in the traditional sense where he'd keep you locked away forever. It'd be more he desperately wants to cling to you but at the same time hes just waiting for the other shoe to drop even though he desperately does not want that to happen.

[oceandirtcountry]

I’d like to thank @kittykatchao for this Kenny idea—it’ll be a long time before he makes it into the fic for legit, but I wanted to do a little thing with him because he’s been bouncing around my head for a little while.

“Kenny, a word, please.” Weiss waves the boy over. Dressed in a jet-black T-shirt and jeans, the boy was about as distraught as they get. He hadn’t stopped crying since the funeral event started, but who could blame him?

Weiss sighs. Ruby was her partner, and as much as she’d hate to admit it back then, her best friend. She’d done the impossible on more than one occasion, risen even higher that she ever had when she was kicked down to her lowest.

In her years as a Huntress, she saved so many, and inspired many more.

It’s why so many came.

“Look, Kenny…Not to be the one to say it, but…I have to. Your dad, he’s…not exactly in a clean bill of health to keep going. As it stands, he can barely even give the speech today, and that’s why Yang will be filling in.”

“But the world…it needs its symbols of peace. It needs the Ninja, the Revolution, and…Ben 10, above all else.”

Kenny isn’t really listening, as Weiss could tell. She didn’t blame him, but he really needed to.

“Kenny, look at me.”

The boy stares up at her with puffy red eyes, having run out of tears about a good half hour ago. The only sounds that escape his mouth are choked sobs.

“Aurelia—your sister—is picking up exactly where your mother left off. She’s going to be away from home for extended periods of time, like your mom used to. So I’m going to need you to support your elder sister in whatever ways you can.”

Kenny gives her a small nod.

“I know you put away the Omnitrix earlier this year. But I’m also going to need you to care for those two who have the watches right now. Charlie hasn’t taken the news well, and neither has your dad.”

“You’ve got your mom’s enthusiasm, but you’ve got this down-to-earth mentality I haven’t seen in those two with their heads-in-the-clouds. That’s why you’re the only one I know I can trust to bring them back to how they should be.”

Weiss places a hand on the boy’s shoulder, a pang of sorrow shooting through her heart. For once, this wasn’t a death someone could simply come back from.

It wasn’t like Ben’s, and it wasn’t like their acid trip to the Ever After. They found her body, they checked her pulse.

“I trust you, Kenny.”

Those words lingered in his mind for a long time. Why him? Weiss had her own kids. Auntie Yang’s kids were far better off combat-wise than him. Uncle Rex’s kid was a prodigy.

Why did she trust him? What did he have?

In the weeks to come, Aurelia pushed herself harder and harder. The gap her mother left was a canyon she could never hope to fulfil, the expectations growing wider and wider, the strain growing.

Charlie got back on her feet quickly enough thanks to his motivation, but his dad was still far gone. She took over as the Omnitrix-wielding hero.

All the while, he was lost. Without a purpose, without a drive to do something for the world.

But that’s when he decided to really look into why and how his mother died.

5a.m. in the morning, his mother stepped out of her bed after hearing an explosion in the distance. She rushes down the Omnitrix tower in milliseconds, grabbing her Crescent Rose on the way.

5:01, she gets into a scuffle with two very odd criminals. Every time he checked the records on them, they were different from how he remembered them—but they remained mostly constant now.

Subdora and Exo-skull. Never found, never caught. Found fifty years ago, then ten years ago, then never again.

But he kept finding inconsistencies. His mother pulled out all the stops—and failed to land a single hit. They predicted her every move, and even prepared some device to stop her Semblance from functioning the way that it should.

It was a beatdown, but nobody could do that, right? His mother was the greatest fighter in Remnant, if not the universe, famed for her unpredictability.

And yet she was predicted?

After more research into his father’s logs, Kenny became more and more sure it was a time-related issue. The two criminals suddenly appeared in the logs five years ago, with an attempted murder on his mother that he swears was never there.

Then another, then another. Each about a few months apart.

Using whatever tech he could get his hands on and help from his uncle Rex, Kenny got to work on a suit he planned to use to go back in time and save his mother.

It malfunctioned. Rex had no idea on the intricacies of time travel, and Kenny sure as hell didn’t either.

But they were saved. Someone came for them, brought them back, and fixed his suit to work as intended.

“Your mother was never meant to die, young Tennyson. She was but an unintended causality in the time-war. But your drive…it could help. What would you say, Kenny? Would you like to save your mother?”

Like that was a question.

(Honestly, Ruby dying is a great motivation—Kenny just fucking went back in classic for…some reason.)

[eshasunrise]

On Professor Layton Vs Pheonix Wright

No spoilers, but I talk about PWPL for a long time under the cut.

The most frustrating part of Phoenix Wright vs Professor Layton is the way it treats its lead characters. The two do their jobs well, Phoenix is the same goofy, down on his luck lawyer he always is, and Layton is as charismatic and clever as you'd expect, but there in lies the problem. Neither character is really explored to any real degree beyond what's already been established. And I get it; dubiously canon crossover made by two disagreeing companies designed to be an entrypoint into both series. It's better to play things safe, not change too much, and use the best parts of both series against each other. And to be fair, they do that with aplomb. The AA and PL character designs mesh beautifully together, especially after the hard work unifying the main characters. The Puzzles are an excellent addition to the investigation segments, and the court cases do a great job dredging out the minutia of the larger than life story and setpieces.

But Layton is a man with far too much intrigue and nuance to just be the confident windfall, and if there's one thing the Ace Attorney Franchise is good at, it's nuance.

Professor Hershel Layton is a man defined by three things: his gentlemanly demeanor, his love of puzzles, and his willingness to always lend a hand. But the Layton of Lore and the Layton we play as are two subtly different men. Hershel is truly a gentleman, no doubt about it, but he's cautious, aloof, and reserved. He won't meddle in matters that don't interest him or call upon him in the first place. He also never speaks of his past or his family. We know how secretive he is about his lost love, and how he becomes estranged from his children in the near future. This speaks of a man afraid, one who wants with all his heart to be always there, yet frequently is one moment too late. One who can be relied upon, but who ends up falling just short. One who strives to shoulder the burden of others, but ends up taking the praise as well.

A man who strives to be Phoenix Wright.

Phoenix is known to be a bumbling mess of a man, who wears his heart on his sleeve, hinges his bets on bluffs, and is responsible for overturning law and order in his country. Yet the Phoenix we play as isn't that man, despite what he thinks. He's somebody who knows people well, and can tell when someone is innocent, and will put his own life and reputation on the line if it means protecting that, even against his own better judgement. He's a man whose bluffs are more thought out than the carefully constructed alibis of men with more power and time than he'll ever hope to have. He's a man who overturned law, not through excess trust or gullibility, but his willingness to call out corruption while protecting as many people as possible from the fallout of his actions. He couldn't have begun to change things the way he did were it not for the trust and love others put in him, or his dedication to the truth above all else. Phoenix Wright has, without fail, shown himself to be someone to fall back on. Someone who will shoulder your burdens, hell, someone who will take the consequences of your mistakes and victimhood onto himself if it means making sure you can wake up happier three days from now, and refuses to let it go until justice is served. He takes the blame for the Dark Age of Law not because nobody else could; it's easy to point to Gavin, Gant, and Karma, but because nobody else can. He will carry the consequence of horrid people for the rest of his life, egg on his face (or coffee), trudging through hell until a better tomorrow comes, all the while thriving against odds stacked so far against him it's a miracle he's even alive.

That is the man Hershel Layton longs to be, the man he goes out of his way to become every day of his life, and the man Phoenix Wright is by simply being his own goofy, bumbling, easily panicked self. It could be said that, for as soft and kind as Layton is, his drive to be a gentleman distances himself from being the protector he wants to be. For as brilliant as he can be, it doesn't help much when he doesn't have the answer. With all the time he spends trying to help others, he never lets himself move on from, or share, his own pain.

And that's why Luke needs to be framed for murder.

Imagine: a situation that Layton cannot deal with. One he couldn't expect. Set it up so he sees Luke holding the bloody weapon in the body of the scared victim. So caught in the moment he just can't put together any other alternative, try as he might. That's where Phoenix comes in. Immediately knowing Luke wouldn't do such a thing, he takes the case before a case can be made, even as Luke second guesses himself and Layton is sent to testify. He's made to put together evidence pointing directly to Luke's guilt. And just as all seems lost, he turns the question on its head, asks why Luke can't be guilty, and that's when he asks Layton for help with one thing; a puzzle. By reframing this impossible situation into Hershel's field of expertise, removing all elements of trauma and impossibility, Layton reorients himself, adjusts his testimony, and slowly the truth begins to unravel. Press after press, puzzle after puzzle, piece after piece, and just as a dead end seems to be in sight, who else should interject but the real murderer, panicking from how close they've gotten, pointing out the logical flaw, in turn outing himself as the true killer to Phoenix and, more importantly, Hershel.

And you do not hurt Hershel's friend.

A duel of words breaks out (likely a game/framing mechanic unique to this sequel) where Layton takes command of the conversation and trial, pressing the Murderer further and further into a corner until, at one point, he slips. Layton backs off and confidently hands the floor back to Phoenix, who immediately presents the evidence that contradicts the pressed statement. The prosecutor has to object to a confession made out of duress, but at this point, the damage to the alibi is done, and the Murderer can't weasel his way out any more. One more round of testimony, and one more puzzle to present a piece of evidence, and the case is closed.

Afterwards, Layton can't help but cry as he hugs Luke, realizing the man who had been put down all game, whose made himself out to be a fool and jumped to harebrained conclusions to just barely be proven right, was the man who not only saved them, but the man he aspired to be like his whole life. Someone who can shoulder the pain of others until it's light enough to carry. Someone who accepts his own past, and lets it guide him forward without weighing him down. Someone who can stare defeat, even death, in the eyes, panicking all the while, then turn around, point his finger, and demands one more answer, over and over until the truth has come out. Someone who can solve even the most impossible of puzzles, when all he has to go on is a hunch, and trust that it can be done. (I'd also like to foreshadow this by having the first puzzle on Wright's side be a Sudoku puzzle, specifically, one where you have to take a leap of faith at turn one to solve, trial and error-ing the first move with little penalty).

Basically, a game where Phoenix is on the back foot and Layton can support him is great, but a finale where Layton is in a no-win scenario, and Phoenix can see him through by bringing out what Layton can do best, that would be excellent.

[dailycharacteroption]

Imperial Agent (Vigilante Archetype)

(art by Larian718 on DeviantArt)

We’ve covered plenty of vigilante archetypes here on the blog before, but as we’ve pointed out, despite the narrative origins, not every vigilante is a hero or even a good person. Sometimes people hide their identity to do very bad things.

One such example are the imperial agents of the former empire of Lung-Wa, who work behind the scenes, sometimes alone, sometimes in groups, to try and destabilize the various successor states in hopes of them unifying them into a true heir to the old empire. So basically Romance of the Three Kingdoms by way of spycraft.

Such sneaks and spies not only work under a cover identity, but also establish disguises that paint them as agents of foreign powers to try and insight war and distrust.

Given the politics of many of the major powers of the world and their clandestine acts in other nations, I think we can agree that even stripped of the context of the Pathfinder core setting, this archetype is not very heroic. At best, you could use it for an infiltrator trying to destroy a villainous nation, perhaps the alliance of multiple such antagonists, from within, but the vibes point to this usually being an NPC antagonist archetype, or at least a morally grey one.

Even still, we’ll look and see what it has to offer.

The primary skill of these instigators is their mastery of spreading rumors and slander about an individual or group, souring the locals against them. Of course, if they fail, they might face investigation or reprisal if they are found out.

Master manipulators, they also are good at intimidating or lying to others.

Finally, they learn how to create an extra identity in the form of a member of an organization, making it easy to fool a layperson that their activities are performed by a member of said organization, placing the blame on them. However, they have to be careful, as actual members of that organization are very likely to see through their disguise.

This archetype is rather unobtrusive, so you can still build them how you see fit. Their real strength is working in intrigue-heavy games where they can manipulate public opinion and place blame upon their enemies. That being said, unless it suits the game for the GM to roll for it, most of these abilities won’t get used when in the hands of an NPC, making it somewhat superfluous in its most common role.

Agents like this in the real world are loyal, very loyal to a cause. One might argue that they are selected based on their lack of introspection about the cost and impact of their efforts, but there is always room for someone to have a change of heart. Whether the character remains true to their beliefs of changes is up to the user, of course.

The river wardens proudly wear the symbol of the wakandagi, a powerful river spirit, on their armor to show their devotion to keeping the waterways clean and safe. It is utterly shocking, then, to hear rumors of groups of them suddenly demanding tolls and protection money from merchants and civilians that use the river and channels in their daily lives.

Crotchety and bitter, Kovas the bleachling gnome has taken his jaded and cold demeanor to a new low… by becoming a company plant in the builder’s union. By day he is a grumpy but hardworking worker, but by night he uses a copious amount of dye and makeup to appear as an unbleached member of his kin, sowing mischief while wearing the union’s insignia, and when that doesn’t work, he dons a full disguise for enacting more blatant forms of sabotage.

General Kir runs a tight ship, brooking no insubordination. When rumors reach his ears that some of his troops are abusing the citizens of the outlying providences, he immediately launches an investigation with the party at it’s head. It becomes increasingly clear that all troops were accounted for a the time, so it becomes a quest to find these bad actors before the dissatisfaction with the locals reaches a head.