#JUDGE CAN ROT TO THE ABYSS

[uaremyjae]

I love that Zeff’s daddy mode is on when he found a few cooks in his kitchen sabotage his little eggplant moment to show his cooking skills. Zeff not only fired them but also beat the shit out of them 😭😭

DON’T MESS WITH HIS LITTLE EGGPLANT 😇 or you will get the taste of Red Leg Zeff.

[arachnixe]

Small Minded

They say there are powers—unfathomable and unnamed—buried deep within the earth. Boons and banes and spirits and seductions call to the ambitious, but I've never known of someone actually finding one until now.

What does one say to a dark sorceress on the cusp of her victory?

My knight, so loyal and brave, wheezes and gasps for breath within his broken armor. Our roguish friend, normally so quick witted and talkative, lies silent and unmoving in a pool of blood. I don't have the strength left to heal either of them.

"Let it sink in, Princess. I've won."

She has. I bow my head in defeat.

"The Godsblood is mine."

It hovers within her reach, an unshaped carmine gem formed of the crystallized blood of whatever forgotten god was buried here. The sickly sweet scent of its power, like rotting fruit, fills the air.

"With it, I shall wield ultimate power."

Yes, the power to remake the world according to her whim, to raise mountains from the sea or to sink cities into the abyss at her pleasure, perhaps even to rewrite the laws of space and time if she desires.

"At last, I will depose your father and rule all of Rutennia in his place!"

I jerk my head upright and stare at her in disbelief. "What?"

The sorceress Velle grins like an idiot. "You heard me, Princess. Your whole kingdom will be mine."

My face must betray my feelings, judging by the way her confidence falters at my reaction. "You've claimed a power like this, and all you can think to do with it is take over this kingdom?"

"Your father—"

"Yes. I know." I wave off her explanation, disinterested. "He didn't see your worth, you wanted to show us all, I get it, but if all you wanted to do was rule Rutennia, you could have just courted me and then poisoned my father!" I scrub at my face in frustration and suppress a scream. "What small-minded ambitions!"

That throws her off balance. "Small minded? I won! I'm getting everything I want!"

"And what you want," I retort, "is a single grain of sand on a beach." I ball my hands into fists and stalk toward her, outraged that my friends died for so little. "You are a cat who stole a siege engine to catch the mouse that once eluded you. You wouldn't even know what to do with the kingdom once you had it."

Velle barks an indignant laugh. "As if the king does!" She casts a hand toward me, magically halting my approach. "No, he has others handle all the administrative duties so he can simply bask in the worship of his subjects!"

"And when the people don't worship you?" I ask through gritted teeth, "because trade with Melland and Istow has completely halted without their kings' cousin sitting our throne?"

"I'LL MAKE THEM!" She makes a tugging motion in the air, yanking me forward to shout the words in my face. "With the Godsblood I can make my subjects dance like puppets at my command! They will all kneel before my throne."

This close to the gem, the scent fills my senses. It leaves me feeling lightheaded, giddy, almost delirious, even. It draws an inappropriate giggle out of me before I can retort. "Build a doll out of cloth and sticks. Make it kneel. Put worshipful words in its mouth. It will mean just as much. Personally, I got tired of playing with dolls at age eight."

Her face reddens. "You think you can trick me into giving up my goals? You think you can convince me this power is worthless?"

"Worthless?" I cackle. "The power of a dead god, worthless? No, only the things you imagine doing with it are worthless. You want to know what you should do with all that power? I'll tell you."

She leans forward, obviously curious.

"Istow's ports give it mastery of the sea and trade we need," I explain, as if to a child, "but we don't need them if we bring the sea to us. Flood their plains, drown their whole nation if you'd like, but take that bargaining chip away."

Some dim, distant part of me says I shouldn't give her ideas, but every inhale of the intoxicating aroma of Godsblood fills my mind with visions of what that power can do. Why can't she see it as clearly as I do?

"Melland," I continue, "is weak but well defended by the terrain. Pull the mountains down onto their capital, swallow their impregnable fortress in a new chasm, and their resources become ours."

Velle's eyes light up with understanding. "Yes, yes, you're right!"

No, no, no, even I'm still thinking too small. Like a petty warlord with a mere weapon. But this is no weapon, it's the power of a god. I take a deep breath and focus. I need to be thinking like a god.

"No, why set our sights on conquering our neighbors," I muse aloud, "when there's a whole world out there to reshape? We don't need what they have. It's not a zero sum game anymore."

Judging by her face, I've lost Velle again, but I don't care. My thoughts race. With every breath I take, my vision crystallizes.

She doesn't need to understand. I don't speak for her to hear; I speak because I must. "A perfect world, answering only to me. Every river, every pebble, the mountains and the seas, the very stars in the sky, all mine…"

"No." The sorceress shakes her head and tightens her grip on the magical restraints holding me in place. "The Godsblood is mine. I found it. I got here first. You lost."

She sounds so petulant, so small. Velle doesn't understand power, not really. She's merely a spurned court magician who deluded herself into thinking she was more, not someone with the will to rule.

And this is no inert stone. The heart's blood of a god demands to be wielded. It demands the will to wield it.

It was mine the moment I decided it was mine.

Without transition, the stone is already in my hand. A twitch of a thought tears Velle's restraints to pieces, no more than a cobweb caught on a boot.

She's screaming, shouting something, flinging spells my way, but my attention falls instead upon the crumpled figures of my dear companions.

With a thought, I am no longer next to her. I stand beside my knight, seeing him inside and out. His body is a trifle to mend, and like wiping dust from a windowsill, I smooth away the injuries. With little effort, I scan the thoughts within his mind, and… oh, what useful secrets lurking within! Many ways to control this one if he chooses to resist me.

My thief is dead. I refuse to abide that for the only one I recall who could consistently make me laugh, and a god deserves a jester even more than a king, right? All it takes is a touch to reignite the spark of life and bid the soul return to its body; funny, I always imagined resurrection to be a more difficult process.

Last of all, my sorceress. I don't need to read her thoughts to recognize her profound denial of the reality of this situation. She flings chaotic bolts of fire and lightning and ice at me, howling threats and curses that mean very little.

If I want her as my high priestess, I should impress her more.

We stand in the middle of a great empty ribcage, and yes, I think a god-bone crown would suit me. Brittle ribs bend like supple grasses, shrink and weave themselves into an ornate crown to rest on my head. I crush the Godsblood gem in my fist and direct the shards to implant themselves in pleasing patterns within the bone.

Velle ceases her assault. I watch her delusions melt away upon witnessing me destroy the gem. The light of understanding dawns within her mind that my power is entirely mine, never to be stolen. A god-bone collar snakes around her neck as gently as a princess's gloved hand, and I can taste her complete surrender.

The whole world also aches for my touch, but it will have to wait just a little longer for my design to perfect it. There are many more boons and banes buried within this graveyard world, and I'll need every last one if I wish to extend my reach beyond even the stars.

And my first three worshippers still need training.

[sorcerous-caress]

How do you think the party would react if Tav was a Fallen Aasimar? I sure it hinges on the God's aliment. What if it was a God they worship?

Reacting to a fallen aasimar Tav

[Bg3, fluff, nb!reader]

[Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Halsin, Astarion, Gale, Minthara, Laezel]

You used to serve a god they worship/worshipped. I took some liberties with the godless characters.

Shadowheart - Selune

Assuming it happens either after the game ends or in an alternative universe where Shadowheart never abandoned Selune. Then she'd be very conflicted.

What could you have possibly done to have the most gentle of goddesses stripping your wings? Moonlight melting your silvery feathers until they're nothing but abyssal black and ash.

Her lady is wise, therefore she will be very wary of you. Yet at the same time, she can't help but feel a sense of familiarity when she looks at you. It drives away her prejudice for a moment and lets her judge you for your action, no matter how blasphemous the act of questioning her goddess's judgment might be.

Wyll - Tyr

To fall from celeste is to become a fiend. How are you any better than the devils below in the hells?

If he was his younger self, he wouldn't have hesitated to deliver you to justice, and yet the horns on his own head weight heavy like a crown paid for in a lifetime of experience. He knows better than anyone that nothing is ever what it seems like.

This Wyll is wiser, more understanding and open. He's willing to extend the same courtesy to you that he wished someone would've done to him before.

Let him hear you out, friend. Tell him what befelled this fate upon you.

Karlach - Tymora

She is more confused about how you managed to anger the smiling lady herself. It takes a special kind of asshole to turn their back on good fortune and lady luck.

An aasimar at that too? A messenger of luck?

She's never been big on the whole religion thing, to be honest with you, yet the wamrth and good fortune her goddess extended to her is still one of the best gifts she has ever been given.

So what happened? How did this even happen?

She'd never be hostile towards you nor exlude you as long as you don't do anything sinister. She genuinely belives in sharing her good fortune with everyone no matter who.

Halsin - Silvanus

Oak father preserve him. To Halsin, seeing you brings as much joy to him as seeing the shadow curse spread.

His God's teachings aren't that hard to follow, just respect the natural order and preserve all living beings. He has been diligently upholding this code through his life and spreading the teachings back at the grove.

Yet, the oak father himself marked you as an endangerment to the very being of nature. To the ancient trees and sprouting spring flowers, you reprsent the slithering all-consuming wither and rot.

He is very uncomfortable around you, not just on his guard, but you can see that he would rather be anywhere else than near you. Yet, feels like he had to keep an eye on you just in case you burn down a forest or something behind his back.

Astarion - Corellon

Honestly, he doesn't even remember worshipping the old elf or anything. He just assumes it given his previous stature and ancestry.

Not that the self-proclaimed protector of all elves has ever given him a single second of his time since he became an undead. No matter how much he prayed, it seems that the blood running through his veins barely counted anymore when it wasn't his own blood to begin with.

Fuck him, along all the other gods who turned their back on him for 200 hundred years of pure shit. It's a good thing you fell, he tells you, at least now your powers are yours alone. What's a god if not just another master to get you to do their biddings?

He is interested in you, mostly in your powers, to be more precise.

But it also encourages you to seek your own path and never think of grovelling for forgiveness or your feathers back.

Gale - Mystra

He makes a lame ass joke about if that makes him your stepfather. Dad puns included.

Surprisingly, he doesn't make a big deal out of it, even if it was before he fully got over his ex.

He's a scholar first and a lover second. He is genuinely very interested in learning about you and aasimars. Meeting one in a lifetime is a miracle. They're so rare that they're barely documented even. So imagine meeting a fallen one? He is beyond intrigued by you and your nature.

Sure, your morality might come into question, but he will worry about that later. For now, he is more interested in inspecting your wings and asking borderline intrusive questions about how serving Mystra was like.

Evil alligned deities.

Aasimars don't have many rules about them in dnd, but for one, they are classified as celestial beings. So technically, they can't ever serve evil alligned gods. It's never officially stated, tho so it is up to interpretation.

Devils or fiends serve the evil deities instead, so i thought why not make the reason the aasmire fell is because they decided to serve the evil god for the character.

In the next headcanons, falling is considered a good thing. Whoever your previous good god was that you used to serve, you abandoned them and went to serve an evil deity instead which is why you fell.

Laezel - Vlaakith

A good choice, a wise choice even. Laezel might not be versed much in the gods pantheon but she is sure whoever your old deity was, they couldn't have compared to her queen.

You have her respect, the same respect she'd extend to a kitherak even. In her eyes, you're the embodiment of the red dragon and rider knight both in one. Your wings and shinning blade speak for themselves.

She is honoured, fascinated too. Yet her admiration is a double edged sword, for she will hold you to impossible standards and consider it meeting the bare minimum.

Minthara - Lolth

She almost pities you, willingly becoming another pawn in this endless chessboard of drow conflict. Another gem to decorate Lolth's whip with as she inflicts it on whoever she sees fit.

Either you're foolishly naive or a complete masochist to dedicate yourself to the spider queen. Either way, she will test you herself to see exactly what you're made of.

As someone who abandoned Lolth, she'd be wary of anyone who serves her goddess. Yet you haven't cut off her head yet, how strange?

Minthara doesn't hide her disdain for Lolth around you, both warning you of the cruel fate awaiting you no matter how much of a good pet you're to your goddess.

For the longer you stay loyal to Lolth, the more of an endangerment you become to Minthara herself.

Shadowheart - Shar

Another child of the darkness, another sibling of the night to guide her through this journey. Shadowheart thinks your meeting was fate, a reward from her dark lady.

Especially if you saved her from the ship, she'd see you as her hero, a shining black diamond amonst the rubble and mud.

Mirroring how Laezel would've acted in fact, their dangerous fickle admiration of you that you never asked for would force a magnifying glass over both your flaws while exaggerating your achievements.

She doesn't hide her Shar worship from you this time around. She is proud, especially by you by her side. She will be your shield and recovery as long as you be her sword and wings.

[itsbubbleteataro]

How about platonic Alastor x fem reader where the reader is a human you accidentally ended up in hell and Charlie and Vaggie just got them to the hotel and immediately warn the reader to stay away from Alastor and not to make any deals with him.

And reader asks why avoid him, after learning he’s an overlord the reader decides staying in his vicinity while he’s in the hotel is probably one of the safest places to be and so they just try to stay in the same room he’s in or the rooms nearest to him.

Reader using Alastors general vicinity as an odd safety tactic.

Ok so writing this is started to become a multi part series so please deal with me!

Down the well and into hell? (1/?)

Paring; Platonic!Alastor x human fem!reader

Warnings; swearing, Angel Dust being Angel Dust, Alastor being Alastor, possible ooc Alastor as it's my first time writing him, creepy guy at the start.

Description; exploring the grounds of the new cabin you have recently inherited, you find an old well. A well that seems to go on forever. After falling down it you find yourself, a human in hell. after being taken in by Charlie and Vaggie they warn you to stay away from Alastor. But what happens when the human decides that the overlord just may be the key to safety and possibly home?

You glance down at the paper and key in front of you double checking the address. A smile spreads across your face as you walk up to the old cabin your grandfather had left you in his will.

Taking the key in your hand, you unlock the door, tucking some hair behind your ear as you take in the sights of the dusty cabin. Walking inside, minding the dust, you go ahead and push the windows open to air out the stale air.

Deciding you want no more of the stale air, you go ahead and place the old key and paper down on a somewhat clean looking table before walking out, keeping the door open behind you.

Walking around the grounds, you spot a rickety old water well. The wood looks rotted and the rope you notice is chewed all the way through. Judging by the frayed ends you can assume that some sort of rodent had worked it's little magic on it. The bucket for the well lays rusted of to the side. The well itself is constructed out of various stone bricks, covered in moss. A brick on the front has some sort of pentagram, that's been worn away by time.

With a hum you wonder just how far down the well goes. Gently placing your hands on some slightly damp moss, thinking you have a grip you hoist yourself up, just so your feet are a few inches off the ground. Then you lean over, slightly at first.

"Hello?"

You call out. You hear your voice start to bounce back. Leaning forwards you call out again,

"Echo!"

With a smile on your face as you hear your voice bounce back once more.

Your arms start to shake and against your better judgement you lean forwards once more.

Your arms give out.

You are sent tumbling down into the inky abyss of your own old water well

* * * * *

You wake up with a jolt.

Your body aches with a dull pain as your eyes look up to the blood red sky. Your head pounds begging for some kind of relief as you sit up, trying to recall what in the world just happened.

Your thoughts are ripped from you as a raspy voice speaks to you,

"Who the hell are you?"

You whip your head around, looking up at the voice who spoke to you in a tone so harsh it was quite surprising.

"Yeah you bitch. No other human here but you"

Your eyes look over the form infront of you. The male looks sort of like a dog with his long droopy ears. His eyes look not at you, but more so at your chest, wiping drool from his mouth.

"Hey watch it!"

Pierces through the air with almost as much force as the spear that's pointed at the dog sinner.

Tearing your eyes away from the now terrified dog sinner, you look up at two woman.

One woman has grey skin with large white hair. A pink bow sits on the back of her hair. One of her eyes adorns a large X.

The second woman stands next to her, looking at you with large yellow eyes, tears threading to spill over as she looks at you. Her blonde hair pulled back into a sort of ponytail. Her skin is white as snow, and two apple red circles adorn her cheeks. The two are dressed in red. Seeming like some sort of uniform.

The blond woman extends a hand to you, helping you to your feet as the white haired woman retracts her spear. As you look at the spear you see it's tipped with some kind of glowing metal.

"Oh my gosh! Hi! You're a human! Oh wait where are my manners! Hi I'm

Charlie it's nice to meet you. H-how did you end here in Hell? I mean you're still alive! Oh shit you look terrified uh oh I know! Let's go to my hotel!"

You cant help but blink at her, confusion crossing your face as the woman with white hair places a hand on the one now known as Charlie.

"Calm down Charlie, your scaring her. I'm Vaggie. Charlie's right, its strange that you are a living person here in hell. Come on, the hotel is close and it really is the safest place for you till we can get you home"

Again, you blink before speaking,

"Uh hi? I'm (Y/n) its nice to meet you?"

it comes out as more of a question than an answer as Charlie seemingly pushes you towards her hotel.

Looking up at the hotel you cant help the slight gasp that escapes your lips. The hotel is a tall yet disheveled looking building with a rickety radio tower protruding out of the right side.

The two push you inside. Vaggie motions you over to the somewhat presentable looking couch to which you smile and take a seat, letting your aching bones rest for a bit as Charlie rushes off to go get the other members of the hotel.

Vaggie sits down next to you on the couch before opening her mouth to speak,

"Ok real quick, there's this demon who will try to make a deal with you because he wants your soul. Under no circumstance are you to make a deal. Sound good?"

You nod your head, questioning what she means as Charlie leads a snake looking sinner and a spider looking sinner as well as a winged cat sinner into the room who quickly introduce themselves as Angel Dust, Husker and Sir Pentious.

An inky pool of shadows soon form before a man about seven feet tall forms. He wears a blood red pin striped suit with black dress pants. His hair is cut in an undercut that lands at chin level. His hair is a vibrant red with black at the ends. At the top of his head sits two fluffy stag ears with two small antlers nestled in between his ears.

"Hello dear, name's Alastor. Pleasure to meet you"

He sticks a clawed hand out to shake your hand. His voice having the unmistakable sound of radio static, you note that he has a transatlantic accent.

"I'm (Y/n), pleasures all mine"

You respond, your voice shaking as your nerves get the better of you. Taking his hand in yours, you give a firm shake before he retracts his hand, leaning on his microphone like cane.

"Say, it isn't everyday you find a human down here in hell, what do you say we make a deal?"

[spacebarbarianweird]

OC Questions. Alethaine Ancunin.

Based on this list of Tav questions

Alethaine Ancunin is the daughter of Astarion and OC Tav Tiriel. She is a High-Elf/Dhampir and Sorcerer/Necromancer with Lawful Neutral Allignment.

SCARS

As a dhampir she doesn't have many scars due to fast regeneration but her right palm looks burnt. It's a result of being chained in silver by "dhampir hunters". She ended up murdering them and reviving as ghols - but the skin never properly healed.

Upon returning home, Alethaine tried to hide the scars from her parents which ended with her mother forcing Alethaine to put off the gloves and show her what had happened.

RELIGION AND SUPERSTITIONS 

Alethaine is rational and cold-minded. She doesn't have any superstitions and isn't into religion.

"Maybe if I find a god of dhampirs, I will become a devoted cleric! But, alas, it seems like we have neither souls not gods!"

THE PREFERABLE WAY TO DIE

Alethaine has never thought about it. As a dhampir, she is going to live for at least seven hundred years and it's plenty of time.

CLASS

Sorcerer/Necromancer. She was born with innate abilities for necromancy which manifested in the age of eight when revived a dead kitten. Alethaine controls her abilities and knows a variety of dark spells.

"I will suck you dry and revive as a ghoul. And you will carry my books until I get tired of you!"

PREJUDICES

Alethaine doesn't believe dhampirs are capable of creating any form of organizaton let alone a state. On the other hand, she is distrustful of mortals, too, and usually prefer to assume the worst.

CHILDREN

Alethaine isn't sure if dhampirs are capable of having children and if they can what this child will be. As a demisexual, Alethaine hasn't met a person who she would be comfortable to share bed with, let alone starting a family. But she is suprisingly good with kids, especially little dhampirs.

FAMILY

Alethaine was a suprise child, because neither Astarion nor Tyrael had any idea about dhampirs (and they were still pretty rare 20 years post-game). But, gods. she was (and is) loved! Astarion saw fatherhood as a chance to become a better version of himself, Tyrael just suddenly felt an urge to be a mother. Alethaine knows she is always welcome at her parents' house and none of them will ever judge her (even if she really fucks up).

REASONS TO CRY

Alethaine knows a lot about the world and it makes her anxious. She can cry because of injustices and if other dhampirs suffer. Alethaine often cries out of stress. Astarion taught her it's better to cry out sorrows than withhold emotions.

POLITICAL OPINIONS

Alethaine has a soft spot for old-fashioned monarchies and sees them as a pretty rational way of ruling rather than oligarchies or republics.

LANGUAGES

She is bilingual from birth since Astarion preferred to speak Elven to her when they were alone. He also taught her Abyssal and Thieves Cant. With years, Alethaine learned Infernal and the language of Drows.

FAVOURITE GENRE

Romance novels. She usually has to read a lot of books on magic and other "serious stuff" and when she has a chance she reads the most tooth-rotting stuff she can think of.

HEAVY OR LIGHT SLEEPER 

Alethaine is a light sleeper - she immediately wakes up if something is off, having almost predatory instincts.

FEARS

Alethaine fears loneliness - as a dhampir she feels off among the mortal and is afraid the older she gets the less people there will be who tolerate her.

She also fears to lose her freedom and mind autonomy. As a necromancer, she deals with unimaginable horrors and she knows how easy it is to lose yourself to some dark power.

STUPID THINGS TO BELIEVE

Stupid thing or not, she believes there is her thiramin somewhere (she is an elf, after all) and she just needs to find him or her. Besides she relates to her father- Astarion got his "knight in shining armour", so why shouldn't Alethaine?

COMFORT FOOD

Sweets. Alethaine has a sweet tooth.

SLEEPING

Alethaine sleeps as if she is in a coffin. On her back, hands at chest. At the same time, she is the person who hoardes all the pillows and blankets to sleep as comfortable as possible.

COPING

Alethaine often cries - she doesn't like to hide her emotions. When she is anxious, she starts walking on the ceiling. Sometimes, when everything is just too much, she goes to the nearest graveyard. It's possible to find her lying on some fresh grave with her arms open and eyes shut.

[klausinamarink]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! for your prompt i'd love to see how you do Steve with the prompt "And I hope the junkyard a few blocks from here someday burns down" because its just too perfect hfdkaslhfdkl maybe hes explaining some of this trauma (to whichever character you'd like) maybe hes just getting a good yell out about it

It was stupid to be outside at this hour when half of Hawkins was raining ash and the other half was crumbling from the abyssal veins in the earth. But Jonathan was suffocating from staying inside Hopper’s cabin and listening to the endless strategy plans for so long that he was almost willing to taste the ash on his tongue. Let them sit inside his mouth and wait for the rot to spread across his jawline and skull and maybe he could finally breathe.

Despite this tempation, Jonathan still wore his mask. He also brought his rusty pipe wrench and flare gun just in case. He wasn’t that stupid.

At first, he wandered aimlessly. Walked between the boundaries of the trees and the still-flat roads. Then Jonathan went further into the woods and eventually found himself just at the edge of the junkyard. 

Before he could turn around and head back to the cabin, a sound made him pause.

Thud. Thuck. Thud. Thuck.

Despite the sirens going off in his head, Jonathan brandished his pipe wrench and slowly stalked forward.

As he rounded closer to the source of the noise, Jonathan thought he could vaguely determine what it actually was. It was definitely metallic. Repetitive but slow. A little bit of tearing.

Like something hitting rhythmically at one of the rusty car doors.

As Jonathan hopped behind one pile to another, he could make out grunting noises too. Human, for sure. 

Once he felt he was close enough, Jonathan slowly peeked over, holding back the urge to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans.

It was a person. Judging from the broadness of the shoulders and torso, it was a man. He wore a dark camo jacket and pants that almost made him invisible. Jonathan watched with both caution and curiosity as the man swung an object over his shoulder and slammed it against a concave car door. It got stuck for a second, so the man ripped it out. 

It was hard to see at first, but Jonathan knew the sight of a baseball bat with nails from anywhere.

He jumped out from his hiding spot and called out, “Steve?”

Steve did not stop or acknowledge Jonathan. He just kept hitting his bat over and over, his grunts growing audibly more ragged and watery. Jonathan suddenly remembered that Steve was fighting off a vicious cold. 

Jonathan shouted this time, “Steve!”

Steve whirled around mid-swing, directing his nailbat in Jonathan’s direction. Much to his horror, Steve had his mask and protective eyewear missing. 

Despite this, Steve greeted him casually like they were just passing by each other, “Oh, hey, Jonathan. What’s up?”

This threw Jonathan off. He looked over Steve from head to toe. Steve looked utterly disheveled with baggy bloodshot eyes, too-pale skin, and messy hair. 

Everyone looked like that these days but Steve looked, well, shittier. 

“Fine.” Jonathan said slowly, already calculating the time it would take to walk back with Steve in tow. “Are you-?”

“Perfect!” Steve interrupted with a too-wide grin. “Just fine too, really. You gotta be positive these days, ya’know?” 

Steve threw his head back with a strained laugh that turned into a cough. It was enough for Jonathan to move his feet and grab Steve by the arm. 

“Yeah, let’s get back to the cabin.” Jonathan pulled but Steve barely budged. When Jonathan looked back, Steve was still smiling but his stance was more defensive.

He laughed nervously, “Uh, why?” 

Jonathan stared at him, “Dude, I don’t know where you lost your mask, but you still have a cold and-”

Steve laughed-coughed again, “Oh right, right! But, uh, you can just go back by yourself. I’ll catch up soon.”

Jonathan had a horrible thought. He did a double-take over Steve before he asked very slowly, “Steve, are you getting visions from Vecna?”

This time, Steve’s laugh was short and awfully genuine. “Nah, no way, dude. My skull’s too thick for him apparently.” Steve shook off from Jonathan’s grasp just to knock mockingly at his head, “I’m just Steve Harrington. The guy who goes through everything for those little shits but gets told to shut up, you’re an idiot for not knowing basic science, thank you very much, Henderson.”

Those last words were Steve just talking to himself as he examined his hand. Jonathan 

“Okay, Steve, let’s just go. You’re still sick. You have no idea how bad it is to breathe in the Upside Down.”

“No idea.” Steve repeated slowly. Then he scoffed, “Yeah, of course I don’t have any idea about how gross monster air is like I hadn’t already walked through this shit twice, with and without protection.”

“Wait, you did?” Jonathan frowned, trying to remember from the previous Upside Down encounters. “I don’t think I had any idea-”

“Yeah, of course you don’t,” Steve suddenly spat at him so viciously that Jonathan stumbled back. 

“You had no idea about the shit I went through even though you saw me beaten up again and again. Did you ask if I was okay? No, you just shrugged and never spoke to me. If you thought your shitshow at California was hard, then you have no idea what ours was like here.”

Steve jabbed a finger at Jonathan’s chest. “You never saw how Max had wrote these letters for us because she felt she would die anyway before we found a way to stop Vecna from killing her! Max shouldn’t have to feel like that but, hey, I guess I had no idea how to stop her from floating in the air anyway!”

“Steve-” Jonathan tried to speak, but Steve barrelled on, seemingly ignorant of the tears streaming down his eyes.

“I definitely had no idea how to look at Max in the eyes when she offered herself as the bait for Vecna! I promised to Max that she’s going to be okay no matter what! I promised to her like I was her brother and- you saw her, right? Did she even looked okay after that? I don’t know how to talk to Lucas when he also had Max die in his arms and still reads to her like she’s going to wake up any minute!” 

“Steve-” 

“When Eddie died from those fucking bats, you can say I had no idea how to save him! He was just bleeding all over and I used CPR on him like an idiot! I have his dead blood on my lips and I can still taste it! I still don’t know how to comfort Dustin when he saw his favorite person die in his arms and he acts like I killed Eddie!”

Steve broke into a coughing fit and dropped to his knees. Jonathan followed, finally clenching his hands on Steve’s arms. Steve tried to pry away but Jonathan wasn’t letting him. 

Finally, Steve stopped resisting and just let out a horrible wail that went beyond the junkyard. Jonathan grabbed him and held Steve’s face against his chest to muffle his cries. 

Jonathan’s mind was spinning. He knew - had seen - that Steve tended to be the most injured of the Party, but Steve always brushed it off. Jonathan never wanted to assume that Steve wasn’t hurting, at least physically. 

But to hear him in a state like this…

Steve lifted his head up, a mess of snot and tears and spit. “Why didn’t Vecna come after me? Why Max and not me? None of this would happen if Vecna had me!”  

He stared at Jonathan, his redder eyes all the more pleading. Discomfort grew under Jonathan’s skin, but not for the wrong reasons. He just doesn’t know how to exactly comfort anyone who isn’t Will or his mom or even El. Let alone someone like Steve Harrington.

None of them had seen Steve crying anyway.

But as Steve dropped his head and gave out another pathetic and wet cough, Jonathan slowly pulled Steve closer and wrapped his arms around the other man’s shoulders in what he hoped was a gentle hug. 

It doesn’t stop the next round of tears, but with how Steve’s went limp and his hands clutching tighter on the back of his jacket, Jonathan took that as something of a good sign.

[vourequat]

ENJOU. ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ 𝑨 𝑵 𝑮 𝑺 𝑻— “Differences divide, you'd be a fool to believe it'll make you unique.”

WARNING: braint rot, pure angst ig, major character death, the reader will be a jerk, angst again, no comfort, cry yourself to sleep, this will hurt (I made sure it did.)

"Judging from your expression... you haven't forgotten me, have you?" Enjou laughed as she held a single piece of a small lamp grass.

It was unusual to hear such a being laugh let alone with a face that can barely accommodate to show emotions other than its flaming red eyes that bore into you.

With sword the at ready you created a huge distance between you and the abyss lector.

It didn't seem to take a hint and moved even closer to you, "Oh come on... you're not really going to draw that sword into me, now are you?"

He was just utterly annoying.

"Don't even dare take another step, creature" He stopped immediately when you dropped those words filled with venom. "What—"

"Don't you get it? You're a monster, I don't care if you used to be human... no one cares... you're a monster of the abyss and that's what you will be until the end of time!" You shouted, you didn't want to admit it but the amount of encounters with the abyss order has left scars on you to the point that just by the mere mention of it shook you to the very core. Enjou scared you without even knowing.

Enjou laughs, "Y-You don't mean that..." He tried to deny it deep inside of him. To him he was still the same Enjou he last saw in the mirror before the inevitable fall of his home but why can't you see it too? Why wouldn't you try to stop and see that he was still there? Waiting... praying... begging...

"Traveler... you don't mean that, say it that you don't mean it!" He tried to keep on denying what you keep on telling him— you and him were a mismatched puzzle piece, made from the same material but were not made for each other.

"Just accept it... you will never be human."

He tried to approach you again even though you kept your sword ready, he took your hand and placed down the lamp grass onto your hands.

His hands are so warm and welcoming despite his appearance but you knew that you'll just end up hurting him... betraying him, it would be the best decision to drive him away as soon as possible before neither of you got attached.

After the lamp grass was safely in your arms that is when Enjou himself made that distance you've long been doing to him, he stood there with soulless eyes that used to be full with curiosity and love for discovery— now he was just an abyss lector.

"You're right... I will never be the human that was destined for you, I just wanted to be friends... I just wanted to be different..." He looked down on his claws and back at you, seeing the difference between how you two looked like.

The other would live a normal life in Teyvat while the other will forever be condemned and hunted for because of a reputation.

"I wanted to feel human again."

For the very first time, you somehow felt sorry for this creature— this cursed figure that once had hopes and dreams forever trapped in dreamland for what the unmerciful gods had done to his people and his home. He was just human too.

He wanted to approach you again but he could sense that fear in you ever since you two have crossed paths, even now. Just from the sight of him he knew you'd be scared, at first he didn't completely get it as he had already proved that his intentions were not against you but he now knew.

Even if he forced it, you were not fit to be with each other no matter how he puts it; friends, family, strangers, lovers... you truly were at different sides of the same coin.

"I... I'm so sorry, traveler..." His flaming red eyes softened as it landed upon you for the very last time.

He continued to fly back, away from you until it was a good distance that couldn't harm both of you, "Soon I will succumb to the curse like every last bit of my comrades... and then I will not come back, I will not remember you."

"I—"

"I will leave now" Enjou said shortly as he turned away from you.

"I truly am an idiot, traveler... thinking there'll be no limits to friendship... you and I are truly different." He decided to turn back again but this time he saw that you had already dropped your sword by your side in a relaxed stance.

He really wanted you in many ways; to be the one to show him the world of Teyvat, to be the one to introduce him to things he has missed out on.

He wanted to be your friend but differences divide most people, no matter how hard they try to push the limits— limits will always be limits, they'll be the only line to stand on, no one can break the barrier if you were never meant for each other.

Life will always find ways to separate a bond that was never meant to be, never to last for an eternity, never to be according to what you want.

You could feel the warmth from his body lessening around the place, you wanted to lunge and stop him but it was too late as he already jumped into the portal that most likely connected directly back to the Abyss.

"Traveler... I will never forget you even if I'm fully consumed by the curse, you will always be a friend to me even if I am not to you."

A/N: No memes that I most likely saved in my gallery for no inherent reason for the time being, I'm going through a heart breaking heart break that I do not know how to cope with other than listening to songs that make my situation even sadder than it already is.

I said so much but basically I'm going through a break up and it's so ugh and it actually ended so healthily with closure and all, but anyways, more angst to come your way because my schedule is now clear but I won't be sure that writer's block will not stop me.

— Xoxo, your most scrumptiously amazing writer.

[comfort-questing]

on these sands I built my fortresses

for whumptober alt prompt "aftermath of failure."

major Fate/Zero spoilers!!!

--

Once - she tells herself, in the dark between her breath and her heartbeat - once there was a girl who was a stuffed puppet pretending to be a real person, and people would put masks on her until her face knew how to fill them. Once there was a girl who wore a boy’s tunic and knelt for morning prayers with the cracked tiles sharp at her knees, who held smooth river stones in her hands to keep them still at her sides, until someone took them away from her and she wept and wriggled and chewed on her hair till they gave her a nun’s old beads to hold instead. Once there was a girl who was all wrong, but she was also all that they had; and she had always known the names that weighed her down, when she slept in the green hills’ embrace with the old hound snoring at her feet.

That was before the sword, and the flags in the wind, and the stilly hush of night over battlefields where only the crows cried. That was before the eyes and the voices always surrounding her, and the crown that left sweat-lines on her forehead and hair, and the flame under her heart that burned as often as it warmed her. Protect them, lead them, defend them. See how they watch you, how they hang upon your words, with their unfathomable faces and the voices you are always still learning to tune the meanings of.

Guess away. And if you guess wrong, the song is over, the song that is you and them and your fragile bright Britain.

If you guess wrong, the night will fall.

That wasn’t the worst of it, though. The worst of it was that the song did not end, but it changed, until there were no harmonies left and no chance for her to untangle the notes into purity again. The night fell and she was still there, stumbling blindly through it, a little puppet off her strings with every mask rotted away.

The night fell and she was still there, with flame-heat drying the tears on her face, the stench of car exhaust and city grime turning slowly to the all-encompassing smell of burning. And there was blood dripping in her eyes and blood on the sword she’d let fall to the ground, and blood on her hands and her armor as she held her dying knight in her arms, his ragged breaths loud in the hollow of her neck and shoulder.

“Lancelot. If this was my doing - ”

“If you… had hated me… had punished me… but you… standing there… in your righteousness…” The effort of the words shook through him, his spiked armor cold beneath her hands.

“Were it better had I been angry at you? Ought I have judged and slain my own?” The panic in her had reached a pitch of numbness, and now felt like a sheet of glass over an abyss, and if she spoke too loudly she would fracture it. “I - it was already breaking apart by then, Lancelot, the glory and the dream. I could not have borne to lose you as well.”

She thought she saw him smile. She might have imagined it, with the blood dripping between his lips as he coughed, and the fitful flare of the fire around them. Ash dusted her lips as she breathed in, her eyes stinging with more than tears.

“… but I have always known… you are… a most honorable knight,” Lancelot’s harsh whisper came again, softer than before, “and I believe… that all of the Knights… were of the same mind…”

Her throat was heavy with grief, but even now she could not make her eyes meet his for more than an instant, knowing that whatever he needed to see on her face in this she could neither guess nor imitate.

“Honorable,”she said, thickly; “I was a puppet with a doll’s face, and a dreaming child, and Tristan was the only one brave enough to say so. I have failed, Lancelot, and only a miracle can save us all now, so I - I will go and find one, and lay it at your grave.”

By and by as she spoke she realized that the struggle of his breaths had quieted, and the drips of blood slipping down her pauldron slowed. She could not have said exactly when he had slipped away, into what she hoped was peace. But nonetheless his body in her arms lightened and faded, shadow becoming gold becoming dust against the flames that danced around them - no, around her alone now.

Alone.

Irisviel was gone, and Maiya was gone, and Diarmuid was gone, and Kiritsugu her master in unwilling name only. Poor fools they, just as the knights of Camelot; expecting a hero to save them, and receiving her instead.

If she burned in this fire that was now licking hotter and closer about her, eating up the oil spills on the cracked concrete - if she lay down to rest now, as her beaten and exhausted body was begging her to with every aching bone and bruise - then she would indeed be all that they had, in all her righteousness and her wrongness.

Artoria Saber put a hand to the pillar behind her, gauntlet scraping as she steadied herself, clenching her teeth and forcing her knees to straighten beneath her.

-

Once there was a girl - she tells herself, again, as she climbs the stairs upward step by agonized step - and her name was lost to the tides of time, and she lived in the hills and tended the sheep with her family, and wore her hair long and cried when they combed the tangles out on Sundays before chapel. And she was odd and wrong, but nobody cared, because nobody needed her or looked to her for anything save to bring the flock in, or spin the wool fine and smooth on the humming wheel, or tell her way home at night by the stars whose old names flowed like music on her tongue.

And someone else - someone else, not that girl - was King of Britain, far away and grand upon his throne. A real person, who laughed and smiled and understood people’s feelings, and knew when to chide and when to sympathize, and what words and ways would turn hearts and eyes to him.

And Artoria Saber prays, as she opens the theater doors, that God in Heaven will let her have this much from the Grail’s power, and change the ending of the song from the beginning.

[forestdragoncat]

🍒 (Did Argenta kiss anyone before Arueshale?) 🍩 Also for Argenta!

Thank you! 💚

🍒: Has Your OC had their first kiss yet? If so, with who?

Argenta did! Won't point the exact timeline, but definitely after she left home and fused with Silver Lining (as a child, she was too skittish and reclusive to form any meaningful relationship outside the family and spirit world. Moving around a lot also didn't help). She had short-living flings during her travels (which didn't mean to last long in the first place), and probably had her first-first kiss in one of those, and it was purely out of curiousity (especially from spirit's side).

But there was one relationship that looked more promising - with the heir of some well-doing merchant family. The guy was a starry-eyed fledgling with his head in the clouds, who liked to talk in typical romantic novels cliches, including the one where he promised that his parents' opinion on his "sweetheart" didn't matter, and that if they don't accept her, he will run away with her. And there were some romantic kisses.

In the end his parents, indeed, did not approve, and he deflated like a ballon, without much of a fight. When telling stories about this relationship, Argenta always says that she figured out he liked her like a fantasy from his books and not like a person well before their break up, so she didn't believe him anyway and wasn't really upset or anything, and, hey, it was nice while it lasted.

...

(She was upset.)

(By the way, about Arueshalae and Woljif - i think that, while Arue was the first to get a kiss on the lips, Woljif was the first to receive any kiss from Argenta - on the cheek. His slowburn was a bit slowburn-er).

🍩: What's a crime your OC is most likely to commit? What's a crime they're most likely to get arrested for?

Judging by her Persuation checks in WoTR, her most "likely" crime is extortion 😅

In seriousness, i think it's... marauding and bulglary? If by "bulglary" you mean "rimmaging through half-forgotten mansions where barely anyone lives and everything is rotting anyway". And she doesn't really see marauding as something very amoral, as long as you maraud from the dead (and undead).

(And isn't it something that almost all adventurers do, anyway?)

As for the second part... Ironically, despite her real crimes, Argenta (in her own opinion) will most likely be arrested for something she didn't even do - like drying all the blood from livestock, stealing babies (where would she even put them?), cursing someone to make them bed-ridden, making harvest go bad (even though, as a shaman, she can actually make it better? But (pre-azata) she also had the opposite of green thumb, so...). So she is quick to leave the area when such rumors has only began to appear.

And if we are talking abot Galfrey already named all Argenta's "crimes against the Crusade", and banished (well, not quite, but) her to the Abyss, so 😂

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

Snippets #10

Scaramouche x GN!Reader

CW: Blood and injury.

-------

A nation's savior and a nation's downfall, what a pair they make. If the masses knew they were so close they'd surely riot.

But he doesn't care.

Those who used them both for their own ends have no right to judge them.

Those who tossed them aside as soon as their worth diminished can rot in the deepest pits of the Abyss.

Scaramouche-no, Kunikuzushi is free to do as he pleases and so are they. It doesn’t matter for what purpose they were brought into this world for.

They fought for this worthless land. They bled when they didn’t have to. Gave and gave and gave every piece of themselves for the people, and for what? Empty promise after empty promise. Each one made by the very same people they’ve protected that they used to keep their precious “Savior” leashed.

Ridiculous.

He gently pulls their sobbing form close to his chest, wrapping his arm around their head as if to shield them from the world. Their body is covered in gauze, splotches of red here and there from the wounds that have reopened due to their strong sobs.

They did this to them.

They did this to their “Savior”.

To his love.

And come morning, when the sun begins to rise, they will pay.

They will pay.

All of them will pay.

Underneath a surge of violet lightning and roaring thunder.

[serpentide]

﹙ -`♡´-   ﹚   › @wolvensden has bought a ticket for the circus :

❛   if you become involved with me, you will be throwing yourself into the abyss.  ❜ ptn verse :3

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇 ! 𝐇𝐄, 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄, 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐁 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍. ophidian vixen swallows his words without chewing nor gnawing on them, for she knows that she will not enjoy their taste 'pon her tongue ; he speaks of the morrow as if it had already been written on stone and he was one of countless messiahs blessed with the ability to read the language of gods [ ... ] how unnerving to be judged by another with such keen eye, as if she was naught but that lonely girl in front of the camera once more ( how she wishes to bury her past where neither angels nor demons will ever be capable of unveiling its nauseating rot, how she wishes to shed this corrupted skin and be birthed anew into a woman that can finally be whole and filled to the very brim with merry sentiments / this mortal husk is hollow, hollow, hollow ) .

a hand raises, and the python languidly slithers across the lithe length of her arm 'til its head finally reaches her knuckles, black scales gleam beneath the dim light of the chaotic alleyway and its hisses of warning echo through the sonorous vacuum of their ruinous environment. not once has serpent's sugar - coated simper faltered, nor has she allowed the lineaments of her beauteous visage to express any emotion that was not an offspring of mischievous delight, speckled with a generous dose of taunting amusement ; his warning is not heeded, she was never meant to be the princess in this fairytale, after all. ❝ we have just met and you are already concerned over my safety ? what a darling, you are. ❞ whenever she speaks, she does so in song and rhyme ▬▬ silver bells chime between one syllable and the other, she is the serpentine siren luring him into a scaled embrace. ❝ however, i believe that you should not lower your guard around me. i am the manufacturer of the ambrosia and as such, you can rest assured that i am in need of neither protection nor concern. what solely matters to me is that our deal is finally officialized and that you will aid me in selling more and more ambrosia ! thanks to our precious partnership, everyone will be happy, everyone will finally be able to experience the sweetest dreams. ❞

[inavagrant-a]

@vixlenxe / starter call.

If he had known his utility was going to be reduced to a mere babysitter he would have taken a boring expedition back into the abyss over this. Though the devil lacks in horns, he makes up for it with the blackness of his rotting heart. The chill of the winter that is said is enough to cause frostbite in mere minutes of being exposed to its cold embrace does no such thing to him. Cold or warm, is all the same to Scaramouche. It is but mere duty that keeps his eyes upon the maiden who he's yet to comprehend why The Tsaritsa herself seems to glorify so much. Because interest? He's none, though a slight pinch of curiosity that he can not be bothered with satisfying so that hardly bothers him.

"Is this your idea for a good time?" The sharp blade of a guillotine descends without abandon upon her head. He's judging her to distract himself of his miserable state.

[ziskandra]

5-ish song OTP playlist

Tagged by @mxkelsifer Tagging @sharksister @ineffableaz @little--abyss @lazyadmiral & @haljathefangirlcat​!

Because I don’t really have any OCs that are occupying significant brain space, I’m only doing the OTP playlist meme! I had trouble narrowing it down to 5, so here, have 6 carefully hand-selected Meresino tracks from my Meresino playlist of almost 200 (help me).  I like to imagine these songs in particular to be about the irresistible lure of a messy relationship, and it ending in fucking tragedy (whichever word one chooses to put an emphasis on 😉) 1. Pit of Vipers - Simon Curtis

I can almost feel the tick like clockwork Hearing all the voices in my head each time I go There's a game they play that I'm not part of Tearing at the weaknesses and all the faults they know It's impossible to navigate around It's inevitable that you'll fall in It's improbable i'll ever come back down I fell in and now I think I might drown 

2. cult leader - KiNG MALA

I'm a cult leader, best believe that she's a keeper Grim reaper looking for my cheerleaders If it's between love and money, I'd rather have neither So charming, it's alarming I'm hurting everybody that I know Lead the masses from the ashes I want power and I think it shows

3. Serial Killer - Moncrieff & Judge

You say you hate me in the morning Could take my life without a warning But I know, I know, I know it ain't true 'Cause I'm addicted to the taste of your blood red lips and you're sinking your fingertips I tighten the noose when I'm with you I could never let you loose

4. I Don’t Take Insults Lightly — Madds Buckley 

I don't take insults lightly And since you'd rather fight me You bite the feeding hand And it will crush you where you stand The Reaper called for more Knocking proudly on deaths door Your blood will rot and rust The pillars foolish heroes clutch I break the high and mighty I don't take insults lightly

5. It Took Me By Surprise - Maria Mena

It took me by surprise The hatred in his eyes I've pushed this man as far as he could go But he lacked the words to let me know He acted out, now I can see it is my fault

6. i love you but i don’t like you - Molly Moore

Oops, I got your blood on my hands You should run as far as you can

Do I sound psycho?

Where did my mind go?

Used to be red hot Guess we went ice cold And I know, I know, I know You might misunderstand Don’t misunderstand me

[bittersweet--chaos]

here are the quotes, feel free to place characters with quotes and make silly/serious situations they’d be said in:

“they may have no names, but there’s an identity to be acknowledged.”

“if i walk into hell i want it to be blazing, not lukewarm”

“one day you’ll decompose and i’ll be there to watch it happen”

“why would you blame the people reaching for heaven instead of the god who cursed them?”

“if no art makes you feel anything, make your own art and feel something”

“god may judge you but his sins outnumber your own”

“someday you will have to answer for your actions and god may not be so merciful”

“you cannot kill me in a way that matters”

“decay exists as an extant form of life”

“she hadn’t kissed freedom only to die before she could fuck it”

“if you go knocking on enough doors asking to see the devil, eventually he may answer”

“you’re not satan, your god. satan kills far too fewer people”

“The bar was so low it was practically a tripping hazard in Hell, yet here you are, limbo dancing with the devil”

“one day you’ll be face to face with whatever saw fit to let you exist in the universe and you’ll have to justify the space you’ve filled”

“if gods can bleed, gods can die”

“the fruits of the earth do not exist to be worth something to us”

“baby every me is me, we are the mask and the wearer”

“i wade through honey-rich excess while you starve of your own volition”

“in a game of no consequences, why do you still play the ‘good’ side?” - “because being mean makes me feel bad”

“we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it”

“you’ve opened this can of worms, now lie in it”

“darkness without light is an abyss, light without darkness is blinding, you cannot have a coin with one side.”

“i survived because i burned my ancestors”

“the stars don’t care who i am or what i do, i owe the universe nothing, i exist on my own terms”

“the version of me you created in your mind is not my responsibility”

“my body may be a temple but i am the god to whom it is devoted; do not presume to tell me how i may decorate my altar”

“the intelligence of animals is measured by how willing they are to obey the commands or humans” - “same goes for students”

“the anger in your heart warms you now, but will leave you cold in your grave”

“even the ground wouldn’t want him to rot in it”

“if you didn’t want to die, then why were you born?”

“when i leave you will understand why storms are named after people”

“did you forget that beasts have claws and teeth”

“lions do not loose sleep over the opinion of sheep”

“freedom is a length of rope and god wants you to hang yourself with it”

“it’s not that deep” - “maybe not, but the ground is soft and i’m ready to dig”

“i’d rather die standing than live kneeling”

“you could sooner divert a river from its course than deny my nature”

“you can’t shake the devils hand and say you’re only kidding”

“do you think god stays in heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he’s created?”

“pick a god and pray”

“i’ll do whatever you want” - “then perish”

“i will face god and walk backwards into hell”

“all knowledge is based on that which we cannot prove, will you fight? or will you perish like a dog?”

“in whatever manner it comes to be, love is never wrong, especially between one who has so much of it to give, and one so desperately in need of it”

“we deserve a soft epilogue my love”

“those who have no gods or kin to aid them must rely on themselves”

“only bare your teeth if you’re willing to get blood on them”

“our paths may have crossed briefly, but you still had the misfortune of knowing me”

“you bury a seed not because it looks nice in the dirt, but because the limbs that branch out will look nice in the sky”

“kill me. kill me and live with the memory. then tell the stars that you won”

“the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak”

“even fate picks its favorites”

“then become the dirt i walk on”

“you kneel before my throne unaware that it was born of lies”

“Thucydides said that "The society that separates its scholars from its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting by fools" however you appear to be both a fool and a coward”

“live with what makes you comfortable but know that ultimately you're not telling yourself the truth"

“You will beg for death but due to what you said today, I will deprive you of that luxury”

“you, who are without mercy, now plead for it?"

There’s to many of them to give to characters so imma do that another time

[bentacled]

klaus hargreeves... it doesn't matter because you're dead

a   sigh   that   burdens   a   ruptured   mind   with   acidic   discontent   and   taciturn   despair   and   pernicious   hardships   lingers   a   sour   taste   on   impure   tongue,   lips   imprisoning   further   words   behind   a   stone-cold   stockade.   it's   not   easy,   spending   every   minute   of   his   existence   with   a   man   who   can   and   will   do   anything   to   silence   the   ghosts   that   pursue   him,   like   ravenous   wolves   salivating   for   more   blood,   bottomless   stomachs   growling   with   the   summoning   of   the   end.   they   cry   out   to   his   brother,   begging   for   things   klaus   cannot   give   them,   begging   for   salvation,   begging   for   pain,   pleas   that   stain   bloodied   lips,   deprecations   that   grind   between   a   cage   hewn   from   rotting   bone.   ben   assumes   that,   at   the   end   of   the   day,   there   is   no   major   difference   between   them   and   him.   they,   the   ghosts   that   ben   fears   he   will   become,   scream   at   klaus   for   things   he   cannot   give   them,   an   everlasting   peace   he   cannot   bestow,   and   ben   floats   behind,   like   a   wounded   lost   puppy,   judging   him   for   things   he   cannot   control.  

he   wonders,   hazily,   if   @theseancekid   knows   why   he   is   still   there,   why   he   really   dismissed   the   bright   light   at   the   end   of   the   tunnel,   the   one   that   would   have   tucked   him   into   a   warm,   threadbare   lull.   wonders   if   he   thinks   it's   out   of   pity,   or   duty,   or   because   he   has   no   choice.   wonders   if   he   knows   it's   because   he   refuses   to   leave,   because   he   can't,   because   he   won't,   because   if   he   were   to   disappear   in   hollow   sighs,   there   would   be   no   one   left   to   care   for   him,   because   all   that   awaited   ben   on   the   other   side,   on   the   other   side   of   a   wall   scarred   with   stars   and   blackness,   would   be   nothing   but   an   endless   darkness   that   would   unravel   all   his   intrinsic   strings   and   remake   him   as   a   superfluous,   vacuous   doll,   emptying   him   of   all   abyss.  

because   he'll   miss   him.   because   he's   determined   to   get   through   to   him.   he   wonders   if   he   will   ever   tell   him.   if   he   will   ever   get   the   chance.   or   if,   perhaps,   he   will   ever   find   his   dearest   brother   sprawled   in   a   grimy   alley,   destined   to   die   in   misfortune   and   wretchedness,   just   like   him.   he   couldn't   even   remember   what   they   had   been   arguing   about,   but   the   dead   card   had   been   played,   as   it   often   was. but   klaus's   right,   he   can   do   nothing,   nothing   to   stop   him,   nothing   to   help   their   family,   nothing   to   be   useful.   isn't   that   how   you   were   created,   number   six,   unequipped   to   shelter?   so,   he   just   smiles,   that   smile   he   reserves   solely   for   klaus,   small   but   cynical,   small   but   wistful,   small   but   tearing   at   the   edges.   " okay.   do   whatever   you   want.   i'm   done. "   he   wasn't.   he   wondered   if   he   ever   would   be,   if   ever   the   stubborn   ghost   would   stop   trying   to   shelter.      

[dmitriyuriev]

More Ciaran and (dead) Artorias... I just love the idea of her only being able to admit her feelings for him after it’s too late