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Durge's tiefling party was... interesting.
I walked around, talking to everyone, wondering if anyone was going to mention the suspect markings in blood in the middle of camp. Nobody did. Is this what serial killers feel like when they gift their murder trophies to their loved ones and they walk around wearing them in public, completely oblivious to the ghoulishness of it all?
Kissed Wyll. Chatted up Karlach. Made overly suggestive comments to Halsin. Agreed to have some wine with Shadowheart. Ditched her when Astarion suggested sex. Durge is an asshole, and somehow nobody seems to mind. The whole team absolutely loves him. Approval ratings are in the 60-90s. Somehow. Paladin Tav looks on from a parallel universe in disbelief.
We visited the creche, mostly to steal the blood of Lathander. I was fully ready to nuke Astarion in the process, but it was like he knew what was coming. Not only did he discover a secret compartment but he then managed to roll a nat 20 on the second attempt of opening it and got his hand on the crest. Half-drow Ghaunafein (Durge) got to steal a holy relic of Lathander, Shadowheart got a very shiny mace, Astarion didn't get burned to a crisp, Lae'zel got to go to the creche. Everyone's happy.
Things went sideways and we had to kill the entire creche. Well. Had to is, perhaps, not entirely correct. Choose to go out of our way to do so. And got really irritated that we couldn't find the kids that knocked me over with mage hand despite checking every room, including the nursery. Outrageous.
We turned around and headed into the Underdark where Lae'zel and Shadowheart had an altercation. Our brave leader Ghaunafein took one look at the situation, went "not my problem" and went to bed. Woke up to Shadowheart with a knife at Lae'zel's throat. Still not his problem, please keep it down, good night. Naturally I put Lae'zel's body in the ribcage where I keep all the corpses. It would have been rude to just leave her behind. Shadowheart somehow didn't take this uncaring attitude as a warning sign that getting involved with Ghaunafein was a bad idea, and shortly after invited him to share that bottle of wine again.
The camp started to feel dreadfully empty and it dawned on me that we're going to have issues going forward if my only tank is Karlach. I had but one hope.
I got to act 2 and... alas, Minthara did, in fact, not survive despite surviving the raid.
The disappointment was too much. I downloaded the Daughter of Lolth mod, fought with it until it worked, and now all is well. Turns out, Minthara does not get a new set of clothes if you steal them from her unconscious body so she had to stand trial in her undies. I'm glad I was generous and let her keep those, or that would have been even more uncomfortable for everyone involved. It certainly gave the scene a completely different vibe than I think Larian wanted it to.
Due to the Fighting (tm), I also got to see how much more Ketheric reveals about your past when Minthara is there. It was neat. Get a mad dog to judge a mad dog, indeed. People in Moonrise also keep recognizing Durge though they don't seem to know you, and the gnolls? The gnolls remember you and they like you. We're friends. I'm not sure I can murder my way through the tower now, I want my gnoll pals to survive. Where's the patch that let us recruit them?
I returned to camp and found Halsin just chilling with Minthara in her undies. I like to think that I got a solid 20 approval from him for this, considering his fondness for drow. I somehow did not get approval from Minthara when I gave her both casual clothes and armor though. Probably because I was still walking around in her casual clothes and refused to return them to her.
The trustworthy heart of the party and most desirable man alive. Apparently.
#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3 spoilers#durge spoilers#I don't normally play with mods#except the less-abs mod#that was a necessity#and now the Daughter of Lolth mod#look if things go sideways with Karlach I need a backup tank#I'm a puny wizard#if I could have less than 8 in strength I would#and someone has to carry all those corpses
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no i didn't just spend a good 2-3 hours organizing my- and my partner's characters' inventories
noooo, I didn't forget to eat lunch because I was so busy sorting imaginary potions into digital pouches and deciding which fictional character gets to carry the pixel-backpack that holds all the pretend-spellscrolls
what are you talking about, that never happened
(that's exactly what happened)
#squirrel plays bg3#but iona at least now has another 20kgs that she can carry#and Astarion's inventory doesn't look like he has just.... poison vials and healing arrows rattling together precariously#because that sounds like a recipe for disaster#tbf tho if someone needs Astarion to heal them that means Jaheira is down and in that case the rest of us have been dead for a solid tenday#in my partner's game gale was cursed and karlach had just been carrying around brilgor's corpse for a solid 15 in-game days#and he just. didn't notice either of those things#glitch plays bg3#didn't notice that gale was stuck at 95 hp#didn't notice that karlach's carryweight had like 75 extra kgs because of the CORPSE#i'm glad he let me organize it but jfc#i keep saying that this man has permanent disadvantage on all perception checks but like. irl
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— "HE'S THE OTHER MAN!" . the corpse groom
SYNOPSIS: A ghost groom has claimed MC as his unwilling bride. Unfortunately for him, she's already got a lover
⊹ [ c.w ] — violence, possessive behavior, malleus blows a fucking green laser down ramshackle, mentions of blood, yuu is poor but we alrdy knew that, papa crewel crumbs
⊹ [ w.c ] — 1.6k opening post with malleus! if this gets enough attention, I might do more :P
"You what?" Crewel seethed, eyes wide as an unsettling smile stretched across the red of his cheeks.
"Repeat that."
"I…I accidentally released that ghost from the spellbook," Grim sobbed, his glossy eyes reflecting both fear and guilt as he looked up at the imposing figure of the professor. "And he's taken my henchhuman as his bride!"
Oh, Great Sevens. Not again.
Crewel groaned, his hands reaching up to frantically rub at his burning eyes. The flickering candlelight cast erratic shadows across his face.
"Please, do tell. How in Wonderland did someone with your lackluster skills manage to—" The professor was abruptly cut off by a loud, almost obnoxious cry that echoed from the doorway. Turning sharply, Crewel saw Crowley hunched against the entrance frame, hysterically sobbing into his palms. Fat tears dripped beneath his ornate mask, glistening in the low light. "They grow up so fast! My dear child is already getting married!"
Crewel's eye twitched as he took in the scene: Grim shaking like a leaf, and Crowley, dramatically weeping, pathetically looking to him for a solution.
"Fools," Crewel snarled, striding out of the room as he fished his phone from his coat pocket. "If you two won't be of use, then I'll have to enlist the help of those mutts instead."
The day had started like any other in Ramshackle, but you certainly didn't expect it to end with a wedding. Surrounded by the ghostly residents of the dorm, you stood dressed in all white, a bouquet clutched in your hand. Curling in yourself, you sighed and rested your head in your hands, avoiding everyone's gazes which felt like icy needles on your skin.
Ramshackle's old lounge, with its worn-out floorboards and faded wallpaper, was the chosen venue for your ceremony. Whispers rustled through the gathering, carried on a faint breeze that stirred the dust motes in the dim light. Somewhere in the background, the somber notes of an organ piano echoed. You didn't even know you had a piano…
"Dear?"
Jumping with a shriek, you whipped your head around. A ghostly visage, bathed in a deathly pale blue glow, hovered inches from your face, an unnaturally wide grin stretched across their blue lips. Bony fingers gently traced up your cheeks, sending tingles down your spine.
With sunken eyes and high, sharp cheekbones, Elizan—a "visiting" friend of one of Ramshackle's ghosts—was truly a sight to behold. His complexion had a pallor that matched the moonlight filtering through the decrepit windows of the form. Wisps of long, flowing indigo hair framed his face, swept back as if caught in a breeze that only he could feel.
"You look wonderful," he cooed, pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead, leaving your cheeks burning.
"Ah. Thank you," you stammered, averting your gaze and gently pulling away. You could hardly focus on the words being spoken to you, your mind spinning with the surrealness of it all.
"You look... Good as well," you forced out with a cough, tugging at your hair nervously. "But... Listen... I—"
Before you could finish, the door to the entrance slammed open, nearly breaking off the hinges with a sound that could wake the dead, sending cracks spider-webbing through the already dilapidated walls.
On the inside, you screamed louder than the hinges.
You had painstakingly patched up the door after Grim's recent screw-up—a feat that had tested your patience and carpentry skills to their limit. Unless you wanted to survive on a diet of stale canned food and cafeteria leftovers for another year, you couldn't afford any more repairs.
While you were busy mourning the loss of having decent meals, heaving and leaning against the door for support, your friends called out your name in a panic, their bleary and furious gazes zeroing in on your figure. Clad in white, you stood there, the perfect picture of a pretty blushing bride.
The uninvited guests didn't go unnoticed by your "groom," and in seconds, you were pulled into a suffocating grip. Elizan's usually serene demeanor shattered like fragile glass. His deathly pale features contorted into a snarl, veins pulsing ominously beneath translucent skin. His typically gentle eyes blazed with an unsettling fire, icy whites now narrowed and piercing.
"Mutt!" Crewel seethed, his foot slamming into the floor and shattering the newly installed tiles. Your soul nearly left your body as you screamed inside again. There go a thousand thaumarks…
"What in the Sevens is this!?" Crewel shrieked, running a gloved hand through his tousled hair. With sharp movements, he pointed a finger at Elizan. "I'll have you know I can have you arrested for trespassing, unlawful detention, and violating the sanctity of this academy!"
"How... How dare you? Barging into this sacred ceremony—Who even are you?!" Elizan snapped back, his arms coiling tightly around your torso. The crowd erupted in a haze of shouts and muddled answers. Unable to understand anything, Elizan's intense gaze shifted and bore into yours, demanding answers. You gulped nervously, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable in his grasp.
"Who is he?! Who are they?!" he barked like a dog, flashing his sharp fangs at you.
"Uh… That's my professor—uh, Crewel," you stammered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "And those are… They're my… friends?" Your gaze flickered to the group of men who had entered, their expressions ranging from confusion to anger.
Elizan's wide eyes now filled with shock, white orbs glossed over with luminescent blue tears. He pushed you away as if you had burnt him, recoiling from your touch as though it pained him physically.
"You know other men?!" the ghost cried out, his hands clenching into fists, his midnight blue hair cascading wildly around his face like a tempestuous sea. The tortured cries of the groom echoed through the room, sending a shiver down your spine as you awkwardly shifted on your feet, feeling like a character caught in an soap drama.
"…Yes?" you replied, unsure.
"How could you do this to me?!" He sobbed, a dark shadow covering his face. "Running off on an affair the DAY of our marriage?!"
"Well, that's a rather dramatic accusation—" you started, but Elizan shook his head in anguish.
"Answer me! Do you have another man?!" His voice shook the room, and you took a few cautious steps back.
"Elizan, please," you uttered gently, your eyes darting nervously toward one of the men in the room.
Your lover didn't meet your gaze; instead, his eyes were locked onto the ghost, a storm of emotions brewing beneath his features. As you jumped down from the makeshift podium, you shot an apologetic frown at the ghost, hoping to diffuse the escalating situation. "Don't you understand? You're the other man."
"No! You're married to me!" Elizan shrieked, lunging forward in a frenzy, his nails clawing at the air as if trying to grasp something intangible. "Whoever he is—He's the other man!"
MALLEUS DRACONIA
"Whoever he is—He's the other man!"
Lilia raised an eyebrow with a chuckle, his form reclined against a fogged-up window of the room. The weather was gloomy and stormy, the skies tinted green outside, casting an eerie glow over the scene. The window pane, streaked with raindrops and mist, blurred the view of the turbulent skies beyond. Lilia hummed a tune under his breath, a calm figure amidst the brewing storm.
With a sidelong glance, his eyes locked onto Malleus, whose entire figure shook with a barely contained wrath that threatened to engulf the very air around him. The young prince's chest heaved in violent, choked breaths as smoke wisped from his mouth and nose—tendrils of flames flickering amidst the swirling dust and ash.
A deafening crack tore through the air as a vivid surge of green emerald lightning erupted from the heavens, descending upon the roof of the venue with explosive force. The blast of energy painted the sky with a blinding flash of green as it crashed into the building, sending broken glass and wood raining down upon the venue.
Cursing, Elizan moved you both aside, a large chunk of debris hurtling past, narrowly missing your startled form. As more debris crashed down, he shielded you with an outstretched arm, a shimmering barrier briefly forming to deflect a particularly large piece of wood.
"Spectral pest," Malleus seethed, his eyes aglow with an eerie green hue as his nails elongated into sharp claws. With a click of his tongue, he raised his hands, summoning thorns that spiraled towards Elizan, ensnaring the ghost in their sharp embrace. Simultaneously, from the floorboards below, vines emerged like serpents, their tendrils gently but firmly pulling you away from Elizan's protective embrace and guiding you into the safety of Malleus's arms.
"How—?! Ngh!" Elizan writhed against the thorny vines. The prickly tendrils twisted around him like serpents, their sharp points digging into his ghostly flesh.
Malleus paid no mind to the struggling spirit, keeping his gaze fixed on you as he checked for any signs of harm. His expression softened with relief upon finding you unscathed, albeit a bit dusty.
"Beloved," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm amidst the lingering chaos. His gloved hand moved delicately, sweeping away the clinging dust from your shoulders and arms. Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingered there briefly, conveying a warmth that contrasted starkly with the raw power he had displayed moments ago.
"Are you alright?"
Blinking up at him with wide eyes and frazzled hair shooting up in every direction, you nodded dumbly. Turning away from him, you nearly gasped aloud to see the room in shambles, debris scattered everywhere, and the eerie green glow of energy still lingering in the air. The ghostly residents were in a state of panic, their translucent forms flickering as they moved frantically.
"My dorm," you whimpered, your mind racing as you calculated the cost of the damage.
With a chuckle, Malleus adjusted his grip on you, his muscles flexing as he gently set you down. Your legs felt shaky as you tried to steady yourself.
"I will handle the cost of repair, my dearest," Malleus assured you, bending down to your height, his voice dropping to a whisper. Green eyes bore into yours, strands of his midnight hair falling over his face. "You will not need to worry about such things once we are formally betrothed."
You froze, your face suddenly warming and burning.
"What?!"
Malleus reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek, claws dragging across your supple cheeks. "Yes, my dear," he murmured, chest rumbling as his lips curved into a sharp smile. "You heard me correctly."
"I… I don't know what to say," you whispered, feeling dizzy with emotion.
"Will you consider it?" he asked softly, a faint hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Please?"
Caught in the depth of his gaze, you felt your resolve melting away. "I-I guess?" you breathed, your voice trembling. "I'll… consider it."
A smug smile spread across his face, and he tenderly pressed his lips against yours. "That's all I ask, my dearest."
After ensuring you were alright one last time, Malleus redirected his focus to Elizan. With a flick of his wrist, the thorns under his control tightened around the ghost. Elizan shrieked and thrashed about, his translucent form writhing in pain as the thorns dug deeper.
"Do try to exercise some restraint, my boy," Lilia drawled, tapping his sharp fingers idly against his crossed arms. "We do not want Ramshackle to be bathed in blood. It would be very unsanitary."
not too sure if i am continuing but feel free to suggest some peepl bookies
#twisted wonderland#malleus draconia#malleus draconia x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader
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"I've been waiting for ages for somebody to unmask them."
This moment tends to elicit negative reactions in a first read through, and I've got some opinions about why where Kabru is coming from here actually makes a lot of logical sense. So I thought I'd elaborate on that.
I think people hear this and go, "He thinks they must be hiding something because they gave money to someone? What a cynic." Or "he dislikes them because they did charity?? What's wrong with this guy!". And obviously, a lot, a lot is wrong with him. But I think this makes more sense than it seems at first glance! What people evaluating this judgement miss is why Kabru is paying attention to Laios and co to begin with.
Kabru knows of the Touden siblings because (he's a little bit of a stalker-) he is keeping an eye on all the relevant parties in events developing on the island, in order to be able to guide them to his preferred outcome. This includes adventurers because they are the ones actually exploring the dungeon! He's well aware that something as minor as internal tensions between party members could be key to the historical events that are developing. (He would love the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand.)
His desired outcome is that whatever the rewards are of breaking the dungeon's curse, whether that's kingship or the ancient elven secrets of dungeons, are claimed by:
A) a short lived person
B) Someone who will be a good, effective leader and/or use those secrets and the power they carry wisely, with foresight, and to establish a political bloc for short lived people.
The person he can best trust to do this is, of course, himself. But due to his PTSD regarding dungeons and monsters, he's not able to develop the necessary skills to conquer the dungeon. Once he realises this, he starts looking for someone else who he can support to that end.
But most of the adventurers don't have any intentions of conquering the dungeon, don't have the skills, or are unsuitable in other ways. In fact, it seems like some potentially suitable people are the Toudens. There are a lot of good rumours about them going around - they actually seem to have a very positive reputation! That's what Kabru means when he says "unmask".
So when Kabru is observing something like them giving money to an old comrade from their gold-peeling days, he doesn't consider it a problem because "they're giving money to this person who doesn't actually need it" or because they must have some dark secret if they act superficially nice. I think he actually understands this situation and what it implies about Laios (in particular) perfectly well.
Laios and Falin gave money to an old comrade who got injured and couldn't work. That person then healed up but kept taking their money. Then he used the money to start smuggling illicit goods to the island.
The key is that for Kabru, the problem here is the same as with the corpse retrievers - people using the dungeon's resources to fuel dangerous, selfish, or violent pursuits cause problems for the island, attract more criminals and people with motives other than breaking the curse, and increase the chances of the whole situation ending in tragedy.
Kabru is willing to work with the Shadow Lord of the island if it gets him to his goal - he isn't scrupulous - but the criminal element of the island increasing is something he sees as a major issue.
Also, when you're evaluating someone as a candidate for power, riches, secrets, potentially kingship - then being curious about how the money you give to people is going to be used is kind of a relevant trait!
Interpersonally, Kabru's actually very easygoing - I mean, Mickbell isn't exactly an upstanding guy, is he! But Kabru likes him and they get along well. These traits wouldn't be a problem at all in a friend, or a comrade, or someone Kabru was confident he could use. But he can't get a handle on Laios, and Laios is someone who has the potential to be a major player!
On Laios' end, this is the same as with the marriage seeker who joined their party. She kept asking for things and he gave them to her, because he tries to be nice to others. He even gives her money! It's the exact same thing.
That's fine, but it became a problem because he basically wasn't interested in her motives, didn't notice she was trying to manipulate him, and it also didn't occur to him that the other party members would notice or be affected. We can assume the situation with the gold peeler is the same. When Kabru says that "It's not that they're bad people, they just aren't interested in humans," he isn't wrong.
The extent to which this is true of Laios is linked to his autism imo, (because it isn't just disinterest - he genuinely isn't able to notice nonverbal cues that people are lying to him or have ulterior motives) but to a greater or lesser extent I think it's a very common trait. Most people aren't actually that interested in other people who aren't close to them. Kabru is the weird one here. It isn't an issue except as a leader - which is why we see an immediate comparison to the Island's Lord, because that's how Kabru is evaluating them.
And disinterest in/lack of ability with people to the extent Laios exhibits it, it does, actually, make him a worse leader... it's just that as we see in the story, people can help him out. The rest of the party tell him the marriage seeker is taking advantage of him so he tells her he can't give her special treatment anymore. They're pissed and it's a crisis point - he couldn't have recovered their trust without Marcille and Falin - but that's exactly the point. With Marcille and Falin, he was able to recover their trust.
And he has other good traits that make up for it, such as his intelligence, strategic knowledge, open-mindedness and sense of fairplay.
Kabru doesn't disqualify Laios as a candidate based on what he sees about him from afar, though - he still tries very hard to get close to him, obviously hoping that if he manages he can steer Laios to defeat the dungeon and make up for his lack of people-skills in the aftermath. (Which... he does eventually achieve that goal!) He completely fails until the events of the story, so... definitely I think "They just aren't interested in humans" could also partially be a stung reaction to Laios' complete disinterest in him.
Anyway, that's my read on what exactly Kabru's "issue" with Laios is. Obviously, once he does find out what Laios' true nature is like - about his love for monsters - he develops an entirely new set of fears about Laios' priorities. But since Laios kept that a secret until the start of the story, he has no idea of that yet.
Given all that, I think it's interesting that he says that he doesn't think that the Toudens are suitable to defeat the dungeon, and that he's hoping they'll turn out to be the thieves. As some of his few potential candidates, people who he thinks may play a big role in the island's future, you'd think he'd hope they would be good people!
I suppose it's better, in his eyes, because it means that he's involved in something "interesting". They haven't just had their stuff stolen by regular criminals (boring, puts them further away from his goal) - they've been caught up in the beginning stages of "a historic event". The desperate and dwindling group forgetting morals in their quest to retrieve their lost comrade probably appeals to his sense of melodrama. Because he also just... loves drama.
Despite it being "uglier than anything he was expecting", he still pursues Laios as the person he wants to conquer the dungeon pretty much as soon as it becomes clear that he won't be able to do it himself and they are out of time. That's because... well, to be fair, there aren't any other options. And he fits standard A: he's short-lived!
and Kabru still hopes he can fit standard B, too, and be persuaded to use the power he wins for good. No matter how many nightmares he has about Laios, or whether he thinks about killing him. He doubts him, but ultimately he puts his faith in him and seems happy after the manga's ending that he made the right decision.
#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi manga spoilers#dungeon meshi meta#kabru of utaya#laios touden#labru#laios x kabru#dunmeshi#og post#kabru is such a big picture thinker. and he evaluates people more than he judges them imo#the hater jokes are funny but the people he judges most harshly arent laios and co. they're people like the island's lord.#but you don't see that as clearly because he isn't interested in the island's lord. he understands him. finds him contemptible but useful.#whereas laios lives in his brain rent free because he WANTS to understand him but doesnt quite.#even though he sees the elves as a major threat to his ultimate goals and dislikes the way they treat short lived races#he still understands and evaluates mithrun as an individual based on his own merits#he's one of the characters who is least judgemental in that sense because while he's always making judgements and evaluations#he's also constantly revising them whenever he gets more information#my beautiful machiavellian prince <3#it's genuinely a really laudable way of understanding others imo.#the only problem is that because he's driven towards his goals by his PTSD and survivors guilt#he pushes himself into situations (the dungeon and also interpersonally) that trigger him or even just upset him#without regard for what he authentically wants or his own wellbeing.
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Fandom is so nice to Jiang Cheng's inferiority complex because in reality every single thing he gets accused of is something Wei Wuxian is better at than him.
Jiang Cheng killed Wei Wuxian? Nope. Didn't even get close. Wei Wuxian's own spirits tore him apart before jc could even get there. wwx:1 jc:0
Jiang Cheng tortures people? We get two and a half rumours and a mention from jin ling that jc has 'captured' demonic cultivators before, but who is also apparently confident that just letting wwx run off will kill the issue even though those earlier rumours said ~no one who sandu shengshou captured was ever seen again~
The word jiang cheng uses when he tries to talk big game about 'beating the truth' out of Wei Wuxian's is a word that carries the context of pestering someone to do their homework. Doesn't exactly strike fear into my heart.
Wei Wuxian? Excellent at torture. A prodigy. Did you fucking see what he did to Wen Chao? Dude didn't have fingers anymore because wei wuxian made him eat them. He ripped out his hair, burned his skin off, and then stalked him for several days just to prolong the pain. He forced Wang Lingjiao to bite Wen Chao's dick off and then made her shove a stool leg down her own throat! 10/10, no notes. Absolutely horrifying.
Meanwhile Jiang Cheng's idea of torture is getting a dog to bark at Wei Wuxian for a few seconds. Weak, unoriginal, I bet fairy was literally wagging her tail the whole time. 2-0
Jiang Cheng made the entire cultivation world believe Wei Wuxian was up to no good on the burial mounds and ultimately orchestrated his downfall? lol. lmao, even
It's a big thing in certain corners of the fandom to really zoom in one one particular phrase at the end of chapter 73, where after wwx and jc have their staged duel to make the world believe they hate each other jiang cheng tells everyone wwx has defected and become "a public enemy'' or "an enemy to the cultivation world" or whatever the translation you're familiar with decided upon.
(As an aside, something I really like about this line is that the last half of it is almost exactly the same, like verbatim, as what wwx told him to say. like, the chapter is really hammering home just how much jc is speaking from a script here. wwx tells jc to say "今后魏无羡无论做出什么事,都与云梦江氏无关." and jc says "今后无论此人有何动作,一概与云梦江氏无关" the only meaningful difference is that he says 'this person' instead of wwx's name)
I've seen it said that this bit, the use of 'enemy' was said without wei wuxian's approval, that jc deviated from the script just to hurt his ex-shixiong for leaving him. And that this is what caused all the other clans to turn against wei wuxian. Regardless of if this is what jc and wwx discussed, or if jc had malicious motivations for it (considering my conclusions above, you can guess where i fall) it doesn't really matter, because the novel tells us when the clans completely freak out and become convinced wei wuxian is out to get them (though of course they've been wringing their hands about it since the literal day wwx ran off with the wen, months before jiang cheng visited) very neatly in chapter 75!
It's when they find out about Wen Ning.
And how do they find out about Wen Ning?
Because Wei Wuxian took him on nighthunts! And they kicked ass!
...Wei Wuxian, my man, why are you on nighthunts??? Why are you showing off your incredibly cool sentient fierce corpse buddy, who is way better and stronger than all the other fierce corpses, in front of the whole cultivation world??
Whatever his motivations (extra money, maybe?? they were strapped for crash) I can only draw the conclusion wwx had already given up on appearing calm or non-threatening and didn't care if the clans thought he was a threat, because they'd believe whatever they wanted anyway. Which he seems to clearly be aware of the whole time.
Regardless, we know that this is what created the myth of the Yiling patriarch. It's literally when the title first shows up!
Even if you really believe jc was secretly plotting against wwx in chapter 73, he's clearly doing a shit job of it because nothing he said made anywhere near as big an impact as this. Flopped!
The other point people use to argue Jiang Cheng caused wei wuxian's downfall is Jin Guangyao's speech in Guanyin temple about how jiang cheng could have saved wei wuxian if only he stood by him. Setting aside that jin guangyao is trying to get into jiang cheng's head here, and isn't necessarily saying what he really believes (though it very well might be! who knows with a character like jgy. assuming he's always lying is just as misleading as assuming he's always saying the truth) the fact is, if you read the speech closely, what he's talking about is not the 'public enemy' line, he's talking about the bond between them. The fact that people wanted wei wuxian out of yunmeng jiang, because the two were too powerful together.
He's talking about that one time Jiang Cheng very publically kicked wei wuxian out of the sect!
Which, unbeknownst to Jin Guangyao, was in fact Wei Wuxian's idea the whole time.
final score: 3 for you wei wuxian, you go wei wuxian! And nothing for Jiang Cheng bye.
#mdzs#wei wuxian#jiang cheng#yunmeng shuangjie#i have never been more tempted to tag something as 'canon jiang cheng'#i don't really believe in the whole 'reclaiming the tag' thing i kinda roll my eyes at it and stay out of there#but I AM explicitly talking about fanon misconceptions about jiang cheng... and is that not what that tag was for?? oh well#let's not antagonize people#i am giggling at the realization that jgs must have thought all his pointed comments about wwx's 'disrespect' hit their mark#when wwx defected#only for jc to sneak his future daughter in law to yiling and letting wwx name his grandson a few months later#LMAOOO GET REKT OLD MAN
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GrievingSukuna! HEADCANONS
Summary: You passed away from an incurable illness that plagued you almost your entire life, and even as his favorite concubine, his most cherished, hell his only one left since he had disposed of the rest. The one thing he liked, that her genuinely cherished was now withering away in his arms.
⚠Warning⚠ Minors dni, mentions of death, Sadness, idk what else to put.
GrievingSukuna! Who has never once said "I love you" to anyone not even you. The thought of those words ever leaving his lips made him want to gag except right those words meant everything.
GrievingSukuna! Who listened to your frail voice reassure him that your time spent with him was a joyous one, and that your were just another concubine, that he shouldn't mourn the life of someone who was merely brought to his temple over a year ago for his enjoyment alone.
GrievingSukuna! Who silenced you with the most tender, loving, heart stopping kiss to ever grace your soft yet dry lips as he just could not bare to hear another word. You chipped away of his walls, held his cold heart in your warm hand, and yet you had the nerve to utter nonsense? You had become his pride, the air he breathes, almost his wife, and possibly the barrer of his supposed heir.
GrievingSukuna! Who listened to you final goodbye to him after one last kiss to which he finally spoke those three words...
"Oh, Lord Ryomen, Serving you was..was the best thing that life could have ever given me. Every moment I spent serving you.. I spent without regret, my only regret now is being too weak to serve you any longer. What kind of concubine am I? Heh, forgive me..please forgive me, I- I-..."
You had spent all your energy speaking this blasphemy to him. If he could he would have scolded you right then and there, but there was no time that. All he could was catch your fallen hand that reached for him in an attempt to hold him one more time. You didn't have enough energy left to finish your sentence yet he finished it for you in those last moments he uttered for the first and final time.
"I Love You, (Y/N)... You foolish woman."
He said it, he finally said it, those words from him you would carry into the afterlife with you, A tear fell from your beautiful (E/C) eyes. But these words were only meant for your ears, not even his servant that stood outside his chambers could hear him whispering those three words into your delicate ears.
GrievingSukuna! Who's world came crashing down once your chest rose and fell taking your last breath. Oh the heinous things he would do, the sacrifices he would make, the blood he would give to just hear your sweet voice once more. This hurt him, this pain.. It petrified him, it was like no pain he had ever felt before.
GrievingSukuna! Who after hours of holding your cold corpse, finally allowed his servents to come in and ready you for burial. His face was unreadable to them, but on the inside he was ready to explode with rage, he was ready to curse the heavens and hell for taking what was his away.
GrievingSukuna! Who stayed locked away in his chambers for the next few days leading up to your burial. Oh how you wounded him worse than any man or woman ever could. This wound wasn't something he could just easily no, no, this wound would forever be etched into his mind, body, and soul for as long as he lived.
GrievingSukuna! Who's face remained unreadable during the ceremony, you had no family to join him, just his loyal servents who had grew quite fond of you once upon a time.
GrievingSukuna! Who quickly storm away once your casket was lowered into the ground, he felt his eyes were burning... What was this? Tears!? Never in the beginning of time would Sukuna ever shed a pathetic tear, but he heart could not deny the human emotions that came with once being human. He wouldn't dare let anyone see such an ugly sight, him experiencing sadness.
GrievingSukuna! Who's sadness was quickly replaced with pure, unadulterated rage, every village in 100...No a thousand mile radius was fucked. If he couldn't have the one thing he cherished more than anything in the world then why should everyone else?
GrievingSukuna! Who would go days without returning to his temple until he's had his fill of bloodshed, maybe this was his new found way of coping with the loss of his concubine?
GrievingSukuna! After days of slaughter he would return home to your grave absolutely drenched from head to toe in the blood of the innocent and lay at your grave.
GrievingSukuna! Who would stay at you grave for hours, cursing you to the heavens for leaving him in disarray, for not ripping his heart out his chest to take with you so he wouldn't have to FEEL this pain any longer.
GrievingSukuna! Who would soon slaughter all that were loyal to him as he would rather live in solitude, then to be reminded that he has no one to share the servitude of his people with. Sukuna would rather be alone than to enjoy the finer things without you by his side.
#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x you#sukuna fluff#jjk fanfic#jjk drabbles#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#sukuna angst
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Yandere Daryl Dixon w/ immune reader— 'we're all infected, why does it matter if you're the cure?'
Yandere Daryl saw your scraggly ass aimlessly wandering through the abandoned pharmacy he needed to raid. Walkers, five of em', and you fought them off bare fisted. Pretty badass, and fucking stupid, if Daryl has anything to say about it. You're bleeding from your neck more than any living person should.
A bite. You're bit.
No wonder you could care less if one of the rotting corpses bites on ya.
He wants to put you down like he should. He lines up his crossbow with your head, and like a deer caught in headlights, you flee.
Goddammit all.
Shouldn't matter anyway. You'll become another walker. At the most you got some gauze.
It had to be months again before he saw you on another run. There you are—banged up and just a lil more than skin n' bones, but there you are alive none the less.
Yandere Daryl admits to himself that it's the first time he's been intrigued by someone in a long while. Maybe that's why he's insisted on going on runs by himself these past few months. Maybe just maybe deep down he wanted to see you again.
It isn't hard to simply surprise you from behind and disarm you. He knocks you out and lowers you to the sidewalk. He doesn't see any walkers near, so he can check your wound out easy.
You still have gauze over it, but it has long since needed a change. It's drenched in fresh blood and covered in old. He unwraps it to see the damn bite. He can't tell if it looks better or worse now.
"Poor sap, what am I gonna do with you? Whats good a cure if there's no docs, only greedy men in this world." He tsks.
Yandere Daryl picks you up and carries you back to the group. He wraps a slightly torn shawl around your neck. It's one he found near the store you collapsed at. There's a reason you have been out here all these months.
You could'a just given up and died.
You could'a found a group.
Instead you found him again.
"Must've been fate, huh?" He chuckles humorlessly.
The way you looked at him. You're runnin' from somethin'. He just has to figure out what.
Yandere Daryl decides you're his to take care of. When he carries you into Alexandria, he doesn't let anyone else get their hands on you. He doesn't answer anyone's questions while he walks in and towards his house. He locks himself in and tells anyone that comes by to piss off.
Screw the rules and whatever the fuck.
You're a mystery that he has to solve.
So he grabs a change of clothes and some food for you. He plops them down on the table and sits in the opposite chair.
He doesn't mind waitin' for a while. It gives him plenty o' time to think. Somethin' in him is just stirrin'. He just can't decide what.
Yandere Daryl calms you down after you wake up. You can barely form words on those pretty lips and tongue of yours. Naturally, you question him and his motives. You're defensive and don't elaborate at first.
It takes just a handful of threats about exposing you and spreading around the fact there is an immune person to unravel your need for secrecy.
Somewhat.
You only tell him that you're being hunted by a group you were once with.
"Mind elaborating, hun?" Daryl draws out while looking over your figure for what feels like the thousandth time.
"I'll tell you—but I swear to God if you use this against me I'll stab you through the head a dozen times over."
"Fair nuff."
"They would—If you get bit and are injected with... well, enough of my blood then it acts as a cure..."
They fuckin' what?
Yandere Daryl vouches for you, and you end up in Alexandria. You get no ifs, ands, or buts about it. They assign you to his house. Daryl definitely convinced Rick that since you're a newcomer and you trust him more, he could keep a watchful eye on you. It totally isn't because there's this strange all possessing feeling that keeps latching onto his heart when you're around.
He keeps your secret safe n' sound. He manages to steal enough makeup from rundown stores to keep your healing bite covered up. He makes sure you are eating and getting healthier. He checks up on you before and after he gets done with a run. Hell, he reminds you of shit he forgets about all the time.
This does extend to him killing people to keep you safe. They looked at you wrong. Maybe one of the residents feels suspicious about you. They may even have confronted Daryl and questioned him. Oh, well. Just another one pushed to the biters.
Daryl has never had a strict moral compass. So he doesn't feel bad about murdering people who he is supposed to consider his neighbors.
Of course, those who came with him to Alexandria get the privilege of questionin' you just a bit. He's quick to shut that shit down, though.
Carol is the only one who is close enough to knowing that you are immune. She knows that Daryl has something more than platonic towards you. She also knows that you were injured with something that looked suspiciously like a walker bite mark when Daryl first lugged you in. (She snuck in and looked through your scarf while Daryl wasn't aware.)
She just isn't looking for trouble. She doesn't want to believe it, as it doesn't seem plausible. There have been too many false hopes from the CDC to Eugene.
So she let's Daryl foster his feelings towards you while watching out for you both. If Daryl ever oversteps a boundary with you, Carol will be there to knock him up side the head, call him a stupid redneck, and threaten him in the most motherly way possible.
Yandere Daryl never saw you have so much terror in the eyes as the day he mentioned The Saviors. It clicked in his mind immediately. He has only felt that rage one other time in his life: when he learned Meryl had been handcuffed to the roof and left for dead.
He didn't think, but he acted. He held you and refused to let go. It's just so fuckin' unfair. He loses everyone that has a semblance of importance to him. Not you. Not this time.
His only thought was that he was going to burn every one of those fuckers to the ground—innocent or not.
#yandere#yandere x reader#male yandere#male yandere x reader#twd daryl#the walking dead daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl x reader#daryl fanfiction#twd daryl dixon#twd x reader#yandere daryl#yandere daryl dixon#yandere daryl x reader#yandere daryl dixon x reader
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Kokichi, similar to Noritoshi in the sense that they're analytical and kinda tsun, but that's mostly it. This is another Megumi and Noritoshi situation where, on the surface, they appear to be very similar, but you squint and realize they're extremely different.
Whereas Noritoshi isn't as bold because he still holds remnants of pride, Kokichi is just shy about it since it's so new. He won't back down from it, just hesitate.
[Long ass rambles under the cut! + bonus doodles.]
When referring to shyness, Kokichi leans into the awkward and stiff type. There's always confusion and slight fear in his eyes when he's experiencing something new or romantic. He doesn't want to mess up, but if he does, he just hopes it works in his favor.
Being born in a body where he was under constant pain and stress, someone touching him was the last thing he wanted. He'd never known the loving touch of another because the heavens decided he wasn't allowed to.
After meeting you, that yearning to be next to you became too much. To hell with his restrictions. He'd to do whatever it takes to be able to be with you even if he had to sacrifice others to do it.
In retrospect, he feels like he should've done it sooner. Being touched or even grazed doesn't feel like his skin is falling off anymore.. Plus having both arms and working legs is always a good thing. It's new and odd, but not terrible. His mind never once wandered back and regretted those he's thrown under the bus because why would it?
Unfortunately, when his body was being healed, Mahito made him healthy.. and that's all. Knowing Mahito, he'd leave Kokichi to struggle with catching up to the rest of his peers by working for his own stamina, weight, and strength from square one. Though Kokichi isn't complaining much about it. He'd still take this rather than being stuck in that god forsaken tub for a second longer.
He used to hate being fussed over because of his illness. He prefers to do things on his own and now he can. Yet, Kokichi still gets pitiful looks on other's faces when he's too weak to carry something. It makes him want to spit at them, he can use Mechamaru to do his heavy lifting for now. He doesn't need a beefed up body to do it.
Unless you're the "beefed up" one fussing over him.. He doesn't mind it when it's you. In fact, Kokichi feels grateful when it's you, endeared even. He never feels belittled or pitiful when its you.. Only you.
Judging by how he treated panda for having the ability to interact with others in person despite being a cursed corpse, Kokichi has a number of insults and creative verbal abuse he's ready to spew out once someone tries getting a little too close to you. Scratch that, he's rude in general to those he isn't familiar with.
Kokichi has a lot of anger for those he deems ungrateful. What do you expect from someone who thought he was gonna rot in a bathtub for the rest of his life to do? Not harbor resentment? Luckily, he holds just as much, if not more, love for you who he's unbelievably grateful for!
Your affection is so odd to him, a new experience that he never knew he could grow to yearn for. It's not terrible, quite the opposite. It's so wonderful he can't get enough. Every time you're around, he wants to have at least one hand on you at all times. Doesn't matter where, just as long as he feels you're around. Safe to say, he's extremely touch starved.
Oh how Kokichi would drop everything for a walk with you. He'd use every Mechamaru he had just to make sure no one disturbs either of you. Murder is just a side effect if they get too persistent. He just wants to spend time with you!
Though he likes walks, he still gets out of breath easily. Walking is nice, but he still needs time to get used to it. Offering to help will only cause him to lean against you, it's not too difficult, he doesn't weigh much for better or worse. He loves when you lend him a hand, it's just another reason to get close to you.
When you part, it's only natural that Kokichi gifts you a little trinket he made. Rejecting it will only reward you with the most devastated frown, so just accept it. If you get rid of it when coming home, it somehow always finds its way back to you? Destroying it will lead to Kokichi giving you another one.
Yes, it follows and watches you, but it's just to keep you safe! Who knows what could happen. Whether or not the little trinkets are subtle, all depends on how you reacted to him asking if it was alright to know your location at all times when he's not around. Kokichi is understanding if you're not okay with it. He'll just make his gifts extra subtle so you wont know he's watching.
He just wants to be by your side constantly, even if he's not able to be there in person. Watching you through a screen gives him a sickly familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach, but it's better than not knowing what you're doing. He can even pick up little things about you this way for when he sees you next time! This is nothing but a win-win in his mind even if others beg to differ.
Kokichi never felt blessed. Not once since the day he was born, not until he found you. You who he feels is truly a gift from the heavens. You who he would give up everything to have. In a way, Kokichi is delusional. He sees you as the reason he got a heavenly restriction. It was as if other worldly forces tried to keep him at bay from pursuing you, but you're also the reason he broke his restrictions. He now has the body he wished for thanks to you, his drive, his motivation, his purpose, his love.
[extra shit]
Kokichi’s so fucking low key about being a chuunibyou. you're telling me he named his mech after an anime he watched. half his attacks have ultimate or ultra in the name.. HE MADE A FUCKING MECH. Your ass can't tell me he didn't watch anime while growing up and got inspired to make it a reality. He probably watched Evangelion or something.. Woah, anime dates with him where he makes your favorite creature and uses it to his advantage.. woah.
[Bonus Kokichi verbal abuse]
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#kokichi muta#muta kokichi#kokichi muta x reader#muta kokichi x reader#mechamaru#mechamaru x reader#jjk x reader#welcome mob kun to the cult.. im so sorry that you have to be our sacrificial lamb to these psycho's bullying#tl;dr kokichi is a little shy bc everythin is new but hes still open to everythin. hes just an obsessive freak for you ykyk#i love kokichi.......... dont you love him?? hes so good bro#can you see how hard im snorting copium to make up my au where hes alive#i had to put some yan into him BUT LISTEN TO ME IM NOT EVEN TRYING TO MAKE HIM A FREAK BRO#HES LITERALLY JUST LIKE THAT AND ITS SUCH A SHAME ITS NOT USED MORE#“there was someone who i loved. and i didnt care what happened to the world as long as i could be by her side and protect her”#“even if that girl didnt want me to be the one to protect her.”#HE WAS DOWN TO SACRIFICE THE WORLD?? MF HUH?? YOU WERE GONNA BETRAY EVERYONE BC YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD FIGHT. WIN. AND FIX IT??#AND YOU WOULD FR STILL BE THERE EVEN IF THE ONE YOU LOVED DIDNT LIKE YOU BACK???#DUDE?????#WHAT THE FCUK KOKICHI WHAT THE FUCKKKKK#ong idk if theres a handful of kokichi enjoyers out there or its one person asking for him specifically but i see you...#i'll feed you my starving cult member.....#THIS IS THE ONE I POSTED ON ACCIDENT SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY AND MISHAP ANON. I LOVE YOU.#shout out to salsamander who caught me slacking#im not sorry for the LowTierGod reference#null rot
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I’ve seen a number of imagines where due to interdimensional shenanigans or being liminal, Danny Phantom is more durable than most people in the dc dimension.
And those are cool and fine and all, but imagine if it was the opposite?
Danny Fenton gets punched twice and dies.
Which is fun on its own, but Danny is half ghost. He’s cursed to an existence where he can never truly be alive or dead for all eternity. Meaning that after a little while, Danny is back at it again, on the streets of Gotham in the same fleshy body he just died in.
He has to turn into ghost form first, but he can turn invisible as a ghost, so it’s fine, no one sees him glowing before he heads into an inconspicuous alleyway to return to life.
The blood stains would be a problem, but it’s Gotham so no one bats an eye.
Except for the bats.
(Warning: some death, corpses, and gore ahead)
—————
It always haunts Duke when he fails to save someone. He’s a hero now, and that’s part of the gig, but still.
He keeps wondering if maybe he had been faster, or stronger, or just a moment sooner, maybe then the civilian would’ve lived.
He sees the corpse in his nightmares, a reminder that he wasn’t good enough. It’s not rational, but Duke can’t get the image of the dead teen out of his head- the lifeless blue eyes, the dark hair, the…
… is that him?
No, it can’t be. It looks a lot like the kid, but his mind must be playing tricks on him or something. Because he saw that kid die. This kid, across the street, they must be someone else. Maybe they’re related?
Duke hears a commotion down a nearby alley, and leaves the mystery for later.
—————
Cass is concerned about this dead body.
In her line of work, it’s normal to see a lot of corpses. What’s strange about this one is that it makes no sense.
It’s splattered on the ground like it fell from a skyscraper. The tallest building in the area is five stories high.
The body is too fresh to have been from a while ago. It doesn’t show signs of having been moved. There weren’t any helicopters in the area recently it might’ve fallen from.
She surveys the area again. Perhaps this is a trap?
No security cameras or bad guys in sight.
She turns back to the body-
It’s gone. Only a pool of blood remains, undisturbed.
No one could have snuck past her. Something strange is going on.
—————
The bullet Jason shot shouldn’t have done this much damage.
The teenager was accidentally hit in a hostage situation. Usually Jason doesn’t miss like that, but the bullet should have just nicked him. A bandaid should have done the trick.
But this kid is leaking blood like a fire hose. It’s absolutely gushing out.
You never realize how much blood a human body has in it until you see it spread out all over the floor.
Jason puts pressure on the wound, damn the bad guys he is not having a dead civilian on his hands if he can help it.
He grabs a tourniquet from the first aid pack he carries. Fastens it around the kids arm-
- and the kid’s arm flops off. Not normal. Either Jason has just gotten Superman-levels of strength, or something is wrong with the kid.
The kid’s rapid breaths devolve into quick gasps. The blood from his wound slows to a trickle. Jason feels the kids heart go from pounding to nothing-
Fuck.
Instinct driving Jason more than any sense of reason, he puts the kid on his back to do chest compressions.
Jason pushes down. He hears a loud Squelch. His hands go through the kid’s torso.
Double fuck. Jason might know CPR, but he doesn’t know how to deal with this. His panicked-brain remembers he’s in a fight right now, and Jason turns towards the people who held the kid hostage.
They immediately surrender.
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❀ ❝ 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲'𝘀 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀? ❞
━ diasomnia (malleus draconia, lilia vanrouge, silver, sebek zigvolt) x reader (separated) ━ true love's kiss? now, where will you or the diasomnia boys get that? (f/n means first name)
requested by: anonymous <3 request type: oneshot requester's message: Hi 🩵 I saw your requests are open 😍 I was hoping if I can request a true love kiss scenario with the four diasomnia dorm members? If they get kisses awake or the diasomnia men do is your choice florist's note: hello, dearie. i went for both, hope you enjoyed. thank you for the request.
this work does not contain spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia’s arc.
do not steal or translate without my permission.
━ malleus draconia ━
being struck by a curse was already frightening enough on its own but knowing that the cure is something deemed as impossible – which is a true love’s kiss – you knew you were doomed for life. from what you knew, the curse given to you was you’d fall into a sleep-like death the moment you reach a certain age in adulthood. ever since then, you had no hope that you’ll ever live past that age.
your beloved remained unaware of this curse, however. it’s not like you didn’t want him to know, it’s just that he never asked, but then again, who would casually ask someone if they have been cursed?
you can imagine the fear and worry showing in his eyes the moment you lost your consciousness. the two knights immediately got to your aid while he rushed to you and assessed your physical being, to see if you were alright. you seem to be asleep and yet your heart was barely beating.
it took a lot to keep his composure, but lilia knew all too well that malleus was close to losing his mind any moment now. the older fae assisted the two knights by carrying you to a bed, to ensure you rest properly before they call for a magic doctor to check on your health.
…
“i don’t see any health issues… however, there is a trace of a powerful spell in their being similar to that of a curse,” spoke the doctor as they looked up to see the faces of the four diasomnia members. malleus’ eyes widened at the revelation as he replied, “a curse? she never told me she had one…”
the doctor sighed and proceeded to share the diagnosis with them in a sad manner, “her curse seemed to have something similar to death, but seeing as she looks as if she is asleep, we can deduce what she was struck with…”
the doctor did not need to continue talking as he knew that the four immediately knew what the curse was and its cure. lilia thanked the doctor for his help as malleus knelt on the floor right beside your sleeping corpse, holding your hand and sensing how cold it was slowly becoming, and yet your face showed no signs of death.
“such curse has a cure that we deem impossible, malleus…” spoke lilia gently, trying to console the young prince after losing his loved one. malleus tried not to have a breakdown, holding your limping hand tighter as he caressed your cheek, “true love’s kiss… is there really such thing?”
“like i said, an impossible cure…” replied lilia, but he was also determined to know if such thing was true, “…but we can try.”
malleus looked at you for a moment, brushing his thumb over your cheek as silver and sebek watched. a moment passed and he decided to lean close, placing his lips on yours for a bittersweet kiss before pulling away with a sad smile. there was a glint of hope in his eyes, hoping that he was indeed your one true love and that you would wake up, but he also wondered to himself that what if it was not him? what if you did not love him the way he loves you?
all those doubt washed away the moment your eyes fluttered open a bit, and a huge smile was seen on malleus’ face whilst lilia, silver, and sebek let out a sigh of relief. your beloved immediately wrapped his arms around you the moment your eyes were wide open and gazing up at the ceiling, a gasp of surprise left your lips once he hugged you close.
“i’m… alive?” you spoke in a rather surprised tone as you knew you would not survive the curse, and yet here you are in the arms of the man you love the most. malleus placed another kiss on your forehead before giving you a disappointed expression, “why did you not disclose the details of your curse to me? if i had known, i would have done something sooner…” a sigh then escaped his lips, “but… i’m glad you’re awake now.” his embrace tightened as he buried his face into your hair, taking a whiff of your scent to comfort himself as the fear of losing you grew even stronger, “please don’t ever leave me like that.”
━ lilia vanrouge ━
you were done with your lessons for the day and you felt ecstatic to return to your dorm to see your dearly beloved once more. with your books in hand, you walked towards your dormitory’s mirror with a hop on your step, humming a soft tune as you passed by the mirror and walked down the entrance of diasomnia.
upon arrival, you saw malleus and silver on the lounge, drinking what seemed to be black coffee while sebek was by the stairs with a displeased expression, almost as if he was jealous of silver spending some quality time with their master by drinking the same beverage.
you chuckled at sebek’s expression and approached him by the stairs, “you okay?”
sebek huffed in response, “silver is drinking black coffee with the young master! if only i could drink the same beverage, but i cannot stand the taste and prefer it with milk!” you tried not to laugh as you merely smiled, “right, there’s nothing wrong with wanting milk in your coffee, seb.”
you then patted his shoulder and went upstairs, heading to lilia’s room to check if he was there, and indeed he was. you were greeted by a messy sight with some trinkets on the floor and unorganized items on his desk – you knew he had terrible cleaning skills, but you were not expecting this.
and there he was, asleep on his comfy bed as the star that settled atop his bed glowed a little. you sighed and closed the door, approaching your sleeping beloved and taking a seat on the bed, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath as his eyes remained closed, his eyelashes were long and luscious, and his lips were parted.
you caressed his cheek and gently fixed his bangs before placing a soft kiss on his forehead. as you were about to stand up, you felt a hand grasp your own and you turned your head to see your beloved awake with a smile, pulling you down and placing a kiss on your lips.
“looks like i was woken up by true love’s kiss~”
you rolled your eyes at his antics and chuckled before kissing his forehead, “then it looks like i’m your true love, old man.”
━ silver ━
you were exhausted.
your energy was spent after your physical education lessons. you were instructed by coach vargas to run a hundred laps before proceeding with flying lessons, which exhausted the life out of you. with no energy left to spend, you entered the lounge of your dorm and dropped your bag on the floor before plopping yourself onto the couch, not caring about anything else other than sleep.
your eyes went shut as sleep overtook your tired figure. hours have passed, but you had not known how long you were asleep. you were awoken by the feeling of something soft and sweet on your lips, but it unfortunately lasted for a short while, which caused you to flutter your eyes open.
“mm…?”
your eyes fluttered open and the first thing you see is your boyfriend’s slightly surprised expression upon seeing you awake, and that’s when you realised, he kissed you. you smiled groggily at him and ruffled his hair before sitting up, “you woke me up with your true love’s kiss~ hehe...”
silver smiled at your remark and kissed your forehead, “you should rest in your room. i already brought your bag upstairs and fixed the bed for you.”
━ sebek zigvolt ━
sebek had unfortunately fallen ill and had been stubborn the whole time. he refused to take his medicine, saying he did not need it. he refused to rest as he did not want to acknowledge that he had a cold, and went as far as to say that his immune system was not so weak that he’d get sick so easily.
silver sighed at his stubbornness and looked at you for a moment. you gave him a quick glance before approaching sebek and pulling on his arm, “seb, you need to rest.”
“rest? absolutely not, i’m fine! don’t let what the doctor said discourage you! i have no cold,” argued the half-fae as he continued on carrying eight chairs to the mirror chamber all at once. silver opted to help as he carried some chairs too, but sebek insisted he’d do it by himself.
‘how stubborn…’ you thought to yourself as you crossed your arms and waited for him to finish his task. you knew there was no way he would stop now.
once he was done with his task, you dragged him back to the dormitory and made him sit on the couch with a stern expression, “sit.”
“but–!”
“no buts. sit down.” you commanded as you grabbed his medicine, causing him to grumble as he stayed put on the couch, allowing you to nurse him. as you gave him his medicine, he took it without another word before thanking you softly.
after taking his prescribed medication, you sighed and sat down next to him, ruffling his hair with a small smile as you spoke gently this time, “don’t be so stubborn next time… take care of yourself. you’re sick.”
“i can handle a cold…”
“sebek.”
you were always surprised by how much your actions and words affected him. normally, he would never dare to listen and obey a human’s commands, but with you, he does.
“fine… besides, i might be a nuisance to the master if i were to be sick while i stood guard by his side!”
ah, there he is.
you chuckled at his worry over his duties towards malleus. you then smiled and gave him a kiss on his forehead, “here. a true love’s kiss to make you feel better~”
his cheeks immediately went red as he exclaimed, “f/n!!!��
© twstgarden 2023 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.
#my goodness#some of these were hella short#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x you#twisted wonderland x reader#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge#silver twisted wonderland#silver twst#silver vanrouge#twisted wonderland silver#twst silver#silver#sebek zigvolt#twst diasomnia#malleus draconia x reader#malleus twst#malleus x reader#malleus x y/n#twisted wonderland malleus#twst malleus#lilia vanrouge x reader#twisted wonderland lilia#lilia x reader#twst lilia#silver x reader#twst x reader
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“under the burning hill” ; aventurine
premise — you say you know him, what will he choose?
tags — angst, with comfort if you squint, mentions of death, a lot of metaphors, spoilers to his backstory, i seriously don’t know how to tag this one, not proofread, 0.9k words; ficlet
tagging — @toorurs
note — i once cried to those tiktok slideshows that are like “if you really know your mother/self/father/sister/brother, what will they choose?” and then this fic happened. this is NOT my celebration fic for getting him, i have different one in my drafts
you say you know aventurine, what is he choosing?
a chance to be with his family again
he dreamt of flowers and gardens, of empty fields and large floating clouds, of tears and warmth, and he knelt into the dream where he felt the warmth of his sister’s hug and the soothing melody of his mother’s song. he buries his corpse who knew his father’s voice and how he would hold his child. in his dreams, he is good and he is loved.
he had nightmares of blood and fire, of wounds and tainted, dirty clothes, of screams and cries, and he’ll run away from the blades that will chase him, his body will become a corpse along with many others as he hides in the bloody waters. he has known death even before he saw his reflection.
and when he awakes from this, he’ll find himself in an empty bedroom despite the corners and the walls adorned with furniture, decoration, and dust. he’ll find himself alone—waking up yet he’s still in a nightmare. his family isn’t there.
for his shackles to never exist
the chain suffocates him—there’s the harsh smell of rusting metal and the cold tug of the chain when he moves his hand. his clothes are tattered, the collar and the hems burned off, and he stands before the eyes that scrutinizes and looks down on his existence. their gaze leaves letters that burn on his skin and it forms into a scar that will never heal, a reminder of what he is meant to be and will always be.
but he walks in the streets in flamboyance, the chain never seen on his wrist and neck as if it never once touched him. he treads the line of freedom and restriction recklessly and like a bird who has never known how to spread its wings, he could never reach far into the sky.
the form of his shackles have changed; it doesn’t mean he also has.
to stop the tremble of his hands
he fiddles with his fingers, adjusts the way his watch rests on his wrist—he keeps his hand busy and hidden. he wears a smile on his lips and utters such words filled with confidence as he places his bet, as he gambles his life, yet he desperately tries to conceal the way his hands tremble as he clutches on to his chips.
he wagers his life as if his existence was only a mere chip on the table, but it’s the only control he’ll ever have over himself.
an apology
he has dealt with scornful gazes and harsh remarks, has dwelled on the hidden meaning behind people’s words. he’s all too familiar with the cruel and unkind thread that weaves into their tongue as they speak—some may sing praises to him yet their eyes would harbor only hatred and disgust.
he wishes someone would ask for his forgiveness, but why would he even deserve one? what did he even do to deserve one? what did he do? does his existence outweigh the heaviness of a single syllable the word carries? was he worthy of one? does he even have any worth?
he can only let their gaze taint his skin, rearrange the letters of the words they utter into the one he will never hear.
(he has never forgiven himself either.)
to finally let go
how bruised are his knees and how long will he repent for the sins he has never committed?
he holds on to his burden as if it was a part of him, as if he’ll be nothing but an empty vessel if he loses his hold on it. he knows it's holding him down, knows it's making his hands bleed but it’s everything and the only thing he has known for—the thorns has been engraved into his palm and became part of his skin. he’ll stuff his mouth full of rotten food and leave his stomach empty, and he’ll believe this is what he’s made for.
perhaps when he'll finally find a place to put everything down, he’ll learn how it feels to live for himself and not for the things he carries.
you say you know kakavasha, what is he choosing?
to never have to say goodbye
farewell is a form of poetry and he is a poem.
in most days, he’ll hear his sister’s voice in the empty corridors of his home, he’ll hear the echoes and follow him into places she could never reach (his wishes will never be enough to save her). he’s haunted by the unspoken farewells and the goodbyes he is forced to make, watching their backs as they leave or his own.
(he wishes he never knew the word.)
(his child self) having a conversation with future him
children are bound with endless dreams and light to see into the dark as they walk into their future—he was (once) one of them. he’ll stay up at night wondering what’s ahead of him, grasping on to what little left of his hope that things will become better, and when he sleeps, he’ll dream of talking to his future self.
“are you happy?”
if he’ll have a conversation with his future self, he’ll tell him everything and anything, make him recall the memories lost when growing up, trace the stars with him as he asks him the questions he’s curious to know the answer to (his future self will know him inside out but he, the child he once was, will never know him). and maybe he’ll put their palms together once he notices his agitation—and he’ll see the differences of their hands and notice the dying light in their eyes—as they ask for their god’s blessings.
he’ll tell him: everything will be okay, even when he’ll only be met with silence.
(get onstage
fear not
never look back.)
© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
#—stellaronhvnters.#honkai imagines#honkai star rail#honkai#honkai x reader#honkai aventurine#aventurine x reader#aventurine#hsr aventurine#aventurine honkai star rail#star rail aventurine#aventurine x you#hsr x you#hsr x reader#hsr#star rail#honkai x you#hsr aventurine x reader#star rail x reader#honkai star rail x reader#azul.writes
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Okay and here are the headcanons for Kinktober!
It's a pretty well known fact (I think??) that Mary Shelley had sex on her mother's grave. (This is also the Mary Shelley who wrote Frankenstein and carried her dead husband's heart around.) It just seemed like such a perfect spooky Halloween situation, I wanted to write some headcanons about it lol.
So this is MC getting it on with our characters in a graveyard on Halloween in the middle of the night. In the case of the brothers, MC just summoned them. For the dateables, some creativity was required.
I didn't do the undateables this time because I wanted to do only one post and I didn't want it to be longer than it already is lol!
Happy Halloween!
KINKTOBER 2023
GN!MC x the demon brothers & dateables (minus Luke obvs)
NSFW MDNI
Warnings: penetration (reader receiving), oral (both reader receiving and characters receiving), fingering (reader receiving), tailfucking (uhhh do I have to say reader receiving well here it is just in case), semi-public, outdoors, mention of corpses and the like but this is mostly kinky jokes so nothing too gruesome
Lucifer
Why have you brought him here, MC? What could you possibly want to do in a graveyard? You had better have a real good explanation for why you summoned him to a graveyard in the middle of the night. You should know that he has better things to do than go ghost hunting with you.
The minute you kiss him, he understands. There's something desperate and needy about your lips on his. Already your tongue has entangled with his and heat has risen up between you.
He has no problem with making you lose yourself in a graveyard, but are you acting like this because it's Halloween? You're seeking some kind of trick? He won't bother to ask you because his lips are too busy sucking on your neck. Your hand is in his pants, freeing his cock, already hard and leaking. He's pulling you along with him so he can brace against whatever he comes across first, hoisting you up so he can enter you.
It's really too bad that your human world friends wouldn't believe you if you told them you were railed by Lucifer behind a mausoleum in the graveyard on Halloween night. You really wanted to tell someone because those are some epic bragging rights. Instead, you kept the memory to yourself, a little thrill pulsing between your legs whenever you thought of it.
Mammon
Terrified. Why are you in a graveyard? Why is he in a graveyard? And on Halloween of all nights! You try to distract him with kisses, but he keeps pulling away and asking you if you saw a ghost.
This seems like it's not going to work. Even when he tries not to be afraid, he's definitely too afraid. You're able to make him forget some of that fear by going to your knees and putting his cock in your mouth. Now he's scared and horny.
S-seriously, MC! What’re ya doin? He’s trying to protest but he isn’t very convincing because he keeps moaning. You pause to tell him the most ghostly thing in the graveyard tonight are his moans. He gets flustered and starts to argue but you shut him up pretty quickly.
After he comes in your mouth, he wants to return the favor, but he insists you have to leave the graveyard. He won’t be able to focus when he’s scared. Once he gets you somewhere else, he pays you back by making you scream his name.
Leviathan
Woah, MC! This graveyard reminds him of the manga I Was a Lonely Florist That Got Hit By a Bus and Now I’m a Ghost Living in a Graveyard While I Try to Solve My Own Murder! There’s a medium that tries to help the ghost florist and- you’re gonna have to cut him off unless you wanna be there for hours.
The minute Levi figures out that you brought him here because you want to have sex with him, he becomes a blushing mess. What if someone came to visit their grandma and sees you? Tell him it's Halloween, nobody is going to come visit their grandma.
He won’t protest for long once you start kissing him though. In fact, he gets hard so fast you’re pretty sure he’s just as turned on by this location as you. You have him sit down on low decorative wall so you can straddle him. He does his best to bite back his moans as you ride him, his hands tight on your hips.
Don't ever remind him of that experience. It's too embarrassing! But he does lend you all fifty three volumes of the ghost florist manga. Despite his embarrassment, the two of you read them together.
Satan
At first he’s a little confused. Why would you summon him to a graveyard like this? Then you start to kiss him and he figures it out. Actually makes you stop to ask if you know about Mary Shelley. He’s impressed when he finds out that was your inspiration.
Now he’s fully into it. Can’t resist adding to the Halloween vibe by shifting into demon form. Curls his tail around your waist as he pushes you back against a tree. Cushions the back of your head with his hand as you wrap your legs around his waist.
He’s thrusting into you at a steady pace but he’s also rambling quietly in your ear. It’s all poetry about darkness and fear, adding a satisfying thrill to the sweetness of him inside you. Your moans only encourage him.
Always after that, he will randomly recite a specific line of poetry to you, one that mentions a graveyard, one that he whispered in your ear while he was fucking you against that tree. It sends a shiver down your spine every time - a spooky little secret between the two of you.
Asmodeus
He shows up looking absolutely fabulous, fully decked out in Halloween themed makeup, clothes, and accessories. He looks around in confusion before asking why you summoned him to a graveyard. The look you give him is enough to reveal all.
MC! You want to do that here? In the dirt? Next to a bunch of corpses? He appreciates your dedication to the vibe but it’s kiiiinda gross! No matter, he's not here to kink shame. As long as he doesn't get dirty.
You decided to kiss him until his lipstick is smeared all over your lips. Seeing it makes him lose his mind and it isn’t long before he’s got your back pressed up against his chest, his cock buried inside you while he smears more lipstick across your neck. He doesn't care about being quiet and moans continually in your ear.
He may have to reapply his makeup look later, but it was worth it. Anytime he wants to send you a subtle message, he wears that particular shade of lipstick.
Beelzebub
Confusion. What’s going on, MC? Why did you summon him to a graveyard? Are you in danger? He’s looking around in the dark, ready to defend you from any ghouls that might show up.
It won’t take much for him to realize what you actually want. Oh. Oh. Once he’s figured it out, he’s more than happy to take care of you right here if that’s what you want. Wastes no time boosting you up against a mausoleum wall so he can put his head between your thighs.
You end up begging him to shift to demon form just so you can hold onto his horns. You're pulling harder than usual trying to keep your noises down and you don’t want to pull out his hair. Beel doesn’t mind, but he does what you ask.
Innocently asks if this is some kind of human tradition. Go ahead and tell him it’s an ancient Halloween ritual. It isn’t like that’s too far off from the truth anyway. Every year after he asks when you want to go back to the graveyard.
Belphegor
Ha ha, MC. He may be sleepy, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hang out with the dead. Honestly thinks you summoned him to the graveyard as a prank. Offended at first but okay he has to admit that it’s kinda funny.
That is until you start kissing him. Now he’s confused. Your hand on his cock clears things up for him. He’s going to smirk and bend you over, already moving your clothes and putting his fingers inside you. He teases you for a while, bringing you close only to pull you back.
Eventually you beg to feel his cock inside you and he finally does as you ask. You have to find something to brace yourself on. Maybe it’s a nearby tree or maybe it’s a nearby tombstone. Either way, Belphie’s prepared to make your legs shake.
He’s secretly turned on by this whole scenario. Brings it up to you occasionally just to watch you blush. You sometimes dream about that night and every time you do, he can’t keep his eyes off of you the next day.
Diavolo
You can’t summon him so you have to get creative if you want to fuck this demon in a graveyard. He’ll know if you lie to him and tell him it’s a human world custom. But it’s also Diavolo’s birthday, so you tell him you’ve got a gift for him which isn’t actually a lie.
He shows up at the graveyard as you request and he’s already in demon form. He’s hoping any humans who see him will think it’s a costume. It’s Halloween after all!
There is something about seeing the demon prince standing in a graveyard in the night with his horns and his wings and his exposed chest… he catches on quite quickly to your intentions because you can't keep your hands to yourself. As expected, he laughs, finding your idea delightful. He catches your hands and kisses you. You've already freed his cock so it's only a matter of moving your clothes out of the way before he's inside you.
What a thoughtful gift you gave him this year, MC! You can't quite tell if he's teasing you because he seems so genuine. The truth is that your boldness really turned him on, so he was being honest.
Barbatos
There really is no way to get him there without just asking him to meet you. As soon as you do, he's onto you. He finds it unlikely that you would ask him to meet you in a human world graveyard on Halloween in the middle of the night unless you were up to something. But he's curious, so he portals himself there at the appointed time.
Your sweet blush gives you away. Now that he's there, looking poised in the moonlight among the tombstones, you're a little embarrassed. But you aren't going to let this opportunity pass you by. And he can already tell what you want anyway.
My, my, MC. You really are a naughty little thing, aren't you? Don't worry, he's happy to indulge you. Before you even have a chance to try seducing him, the tip of a tail is creeping beneath your clothes. Barbatos fucks you with his tail so good you're seeing stars, clinging onto him and moaning his name.
He's not satisfied with this, though. Keeps you close as he portals you back to his own room in the Devildom. He keeps you there all night and now you've got a whole new Halloween tradition.
Simeon
At first you aren't sure how to get him to the graveyard. But you tell him that there's a place in the human world you want to show him. He seems happy enough to meet you there, but he is confused about the late hour. You tell him it's relevant to what you want to show him.
When he gets there, you waste no time and cut right to the chase, kissing him and putting your hand down his pants. Simeon, to your complete surprise, responds in kind.
Oh, MC. If this is what you wanted, you should have just told him. He's moved without you realizing and you feel something hard behind you. You look up and almost laugh - you're being pressed against the base of an enormous angel statue. You're not distracted for long though because Simeon is already moving aside your clothes. He bites down a little as he enters you, making you gasp. You wondered momentarily if the dead in that graveyard experienced heaven the way you were at that moment.
He'll never tell a soul about what the two of you did, but you know when he's thinking about it. He gets a particular look on his face, a light blush and a sparkle in his eyes. You're not even surprised when it happens in one of his future novels.
Solomon
Sure, he's happy to go with you to whatever graveyard you like, even if it's the middle of the night on Halloween. He gets it. It's spooky season, after all. You don't have to trick him into it, he's ready to go wherever you suggest.
When you get there, he waits for your direction, perhaps thinking you're on the lookout for ghosts or something. Figures out what you want immediately when you start to kiss him. And now he's turned on. Takes you into a nearby mausoleum and you find yourself bent over, hands braced against the wall. He's losing himself in you and praise tumbles out of him as your moans echo through the stone room.
You're both breathing heavily as he takes care of the clean up and fixes your clothes for you. Then he grins wickedly. Would this be considered a graveyard smash, MC? You threaten him with bodily harm for saying that, but he only laughs at you.
For a while afterward, he'll start humming Monster Mash near you, just to get a reaction out of you. You get to decide if you kiss him or hit him, but either way he's pleased about it.
flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!
taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb
#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me shall we date#omswd#obey me kinktober#obey me smut#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me solomon#misc kinktober 2023#misc naughty times#misc writes
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The Most Un-Lan-Like Lan (Junior) vs. The Most Un-Lan-Like Lan (Married-In Senior)
Lan Jingyi is such an interesting character. He is very opinionated and often speaks his mind without considering how his words will come across. He is cowardly about the supernatural despite being a cultivator but brave against those in positions of power despite being a child, always willing to stand up for what he thinks is right. Lan Jingyi starts off the story with a low opinion of "Mo Xuanyu," usually acting rude, hostile, or dismissive:
When he turned his head, he saw the Lan juniors tailing him. “Children!” he shouted. Lan Jingyi said, “Who are you calling children? Don’t you know which clan we’re from? Just because you’ve washed your face, you get to act like our senior?”
—Chapt. 9: Pride IV, fanyiyi
Wei Wuxian went to the youngsters. “Am I seeing things right? Each of you is a disciple of a prominent clan. Haven’t your moms, dads, and uncles taught you that the dead can’t receive the paper money you’re burning? They’re dead, what do they need money for? They won’t be able to collect it. Plus, you’re burning the money right at someone’s door—“ Lan Jingyi waved his hand dismissively. “Move aside, move aside, you’re blocking the wind. The fire will burn out at this rate. Anyway, it’s not like you’ve ever died—how do you know whether the dead can collect the money?" ... Lan Jingyi knifed him in the heart again. “Even if you’ve been dead before and didn’t get any, it has to be because no one burned any for you.”
—Chapt. 42: Flora X, fanyiyi
It doesn't help that Wei Wuxian, playing into his "gay lunatic" persona, is intentionally trying to put everyone off:
Lan Jingyi said, “Why are you crying? You’re the one who said you like Hanguang Jun! Now he even brought you home. So what are you howling for?” Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows were wrinkled, his lips frowned, and his face was the perfect picture of misery.
—Chapt. 11: Elegance I, fanyiyi
Wei Wuxian took out the apple from the breakfast they had given him and offered it to the donkey. As expected, as soon as the animal bit in, it stopped braying, and began smacking its lips and crunching the fruit with its teeth instead. Wei Wuxian touched the back of its neck and thought about the jade passage tokens the juniors carried while pointing at the round, white rabbits covering the ground. “I’m really not allowed to cook them? So if I cooked them, I’d be chased off the mountain?” As though facing a major enemy, Lan Jingyi opened his arms and stepped in front of him immediately. “These are Hanguang Jun’s rabbits. We just help watch them once in a while. Don’t you dare cook them!”
...
“I can’t get up,” he said sincerely. “Uh, what’s happened to you now?” Lan Sizhui said. “What’s happened to me? Your clan’s Hanguang Jun ravished me!” Lan Jingyi piped up louder and fiercer. “If you keep spouting nonsense, we’re not going to let it go. Come out!”
—Chapt. 19: Sunshine I, fanyiyi
Yet despite all this, once Wei Wuxian sheds his "Mo Xuanyu" cover and begins to seriously lean into his mentorship role, Lan Jingyi becomes one of his most vocal followers amongst the juniors, seeing the man as both a steady pillar to rely on—on par with his idol, Hanguang-jun—and someone whose safety he is concerned with, so much so that he can even cast aside his fear of the supernatural to volunteer himself as bait in Wei Wuxian's stead:
Wei WuXian said to them, “When the second group of fierce corpses rushes in, I will lure them towards the Pool of Blood, and HanGuang-Jun will be in charge of slaying them. With this target here,” He patted himself, “They won’t bother you. Don’t be tempted by battle, just run.” For once, Lan SiZhui’s raised his voice, “No! We can’t do that. There’s no way!” Sect Leader OuYang had given up trying to hold his son still. OuYang ZiZhen, “Senior-Wei, we will slay the corpses too! I can slay a hundred more!” Meanwhile, Lan JingYi had already started to undress, “I’ll draw a flag on myself too!”
—Chapt. 81: Core Part 3, boat-full-of-lotus-pods
OuYang ZiZhen, “HanGuang-Jun, why did Senior-Wei collapse?” Lan WangJi, “Tired.” Lan JingYi was astonished, “I thought that Senior-Wei would never tire!”
—Chapt. 84: Core Part 6, boat-full-of-lotus-pods
Soon, he began again, “Speaking of it, why didn’t I see SiZhui and the squad this time back?” In the past, these juniors would’ve crowded around them and begun chirping all the way from the entrance of the mountain. Hearing him mention SiZhui and the juniors, Lan WangJi’s brows relaxed somewhat, “I can take you to see them.” After he led Wei WuXian to find Lan SiZhui, Lan JingYi, and the others, the juniors didn’t do anything apart from calling out in delight.
—Chapt. 114: Banquet Extra, exr
With such a fierce and impressionable personality, it's no wonder he's one of the few juniors whose name Wei Wuxian can remember 😂
#xiantober#mdzs#human metas mxtx#happy bday wei-qianbei from your duckings 🐥#fandom says that ljy is 'wwx if he were a lan'#i am here to say that this is a wildly incorrect take#ljy is actually closer to jin ling in personality#or a lqr if lqr had less impulse control in his communication and wasn't obsessed with the rules if we're getting real spicy#but ljy represents an ability to go with the flow and accept change#whether in circumstances or his core beliefs#and that's what makes him different from (and better than) lqr
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(You can delete this ask if it makes you uncomfortable) Do you think I should give up on my dream of being a webcomic artist? It's been what I'd been wanting to for years yet from what I'm hearing, it's hard to get money and an audience and that the mainstream webcomic hosting platforms don't treat their creators well. It doesn't help that while my art is decent, I don't really know how to create webcomics beyond like really short 4-5 panel comics even though I'd been drawing for many years. There's also the issue of my ADHD making it difficult to commit to stuff but then again at least that can be hopefully fixed once I get medicated. So, now the career of a webcomic artist sounds like a pipe dream at best. Is it worth pursuing, even if I don't make much money with it?
"Do you think I should give up on my dream of being a webcomic artist?"
And this isn't just for you, anon, this is for everyone who follows my nonsense here.
Yes, it's hard to build an audience.
It's even harder to make money.
You should still make webcomics if you really want to do it.
The only practical piece of advice I can give you from the perspective of someone who's been doing this for years is to manage your expectations. Because that's the biggest mistake a lot of webcomic artists make (and I too, made this mistake) they go into it setting the bar that it HAS to result in them making a living off it, getting famous off it, etc. when that's unfortunately only the reality for the 1% who get lucky or have an advantage that the other 99% don't have. And then, of course, failing to meet those ridiculously high expectations makes the fall hurt that much harder if you fail, especially with odds like that stacked against you. That's not to say you shouldn't set a bar for yourself, but you have to set it in a place that's reasonable. Especially if you're an artist with ADHD (same, mood), we have a REAL bad habit of setting the bar unreasonably high for ourselves when we're still learning and getting our feet wet (it's why we're always taking on new hobbies after getting inspired by musicians or crafters and then getting immediately discouraged when we're not suddenly able to do the thing with that same amount of skill).
Set the bar in a reasonable place with reasonable expectations, and then when you MEET that bar, you'll have even more motivation and confidence to aim higher. What won't give you confidence is setting the bar alongside the pros who have been at this for years, because not only will it take way too long to hit that for you to see results, you might give up before you even come close because of how far away the bar is.
A career as a webcomic artist is about as guaranteed as making a career out of Youtube. But being a webcomic artist, period? You can do it. Anyone can do it. I'm still doing it in spite of everything. Like, I cannot even fully express to you just how much of what I do here is the culmination of a long list of failures. My art, my writing, the stuff I do here is built on the corpses of my failures. But those failures were still important, they had to happen to make me into the person and artist I am today. That person is STILL making mistakes, and that artist is STILL not rich LOL Failure is scary, but fear of failure is the true killer of joy and growth.
Do not tie the merit of being a webcomic artist to how much money you can (or can't) make out of it. Just like with starting a Youtube channel, you shouldn't go into it expecting money and fame right out the gate, but there are equal amounts of joy and experience you can gain by doing it. There's a reason people say you have to do it out of love and passion first because ultimately that's all you'll have to keep carrying you through if and when you fail to meet your goals. You don't have to be sure if you'll still want to do it a year from now or five years from now, none of that matters. If you want to do it now, then do it.
Make your 4-5 panel comics if that's what you enjoy doing. Make whatever tickles your fancy. Acknowledge your fears and doubts, thank them for their opinion, and do it anyways. "What if it ends up being a waste of time?" The time will pass anyways. Worst case, at least you'll be able to say you did it. That's better than never trying and regretting it in the end.
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Dreamling fic idea I'll probably never get around to:
Dream is the highest ranking cleric in the city. His gifts are sought after by all and the cost of his services reflect it. He has treated and healed everything from Kings to Demi-Gods. But he is tired of his position. Those he cares for and treats are grateful, yes, but his services are almost expected. And the one time he fails because the bishop was too far gone, even for Dream's skills, he was berated for his failure. Whispers echoed through the kingdom that the High Cleric Dream was losing his touch, that the gods that favored him so are losing interest.
Dream begins to think that maybe they are right. Then he meets Hob - a necromancer that works out in the battlefields, mostly. Someone who he would normally never cross paths with until he does. His sister had advised him that a change of scenery could be good for him and his soul. To recharge and rest a moment and reconnect with his divine gifts.
Hob is helping carry in the wounded and sick from the most recent skirmish in the outerlands. Dream hovers, watching as this captivating handsome man, covered head to toe in grime and blood and dirt, gently guides his fellow soldiers towards the healers bay. And then he walks towards the bodies of those that had not made it.
Hob kneels by the dead, and Dream watches with curiosity. Necromancy was not viewed highly. Most necromancer positions were ones of war, raising the dead so that they might keep fighting. Dream wonders what possible reason this one might have for raising them here in the city. He freezes, thinking perhaps Hob was a traitor or spy and is planning to unleash an attack.
But no. No, as the young man's body beside him jolts to life, a wheezing, gasping noise releases from the cold dead lips. And Hob just smiles. He grabs the corpse's hands, giving it a gentle pat, and says, "Easy there. It's okay. The pain is gone, yeah?"
The corpse just nods.
"Good. Good," the Necromancer says. "You asked me, said if you died on the field-"
"That you'd bring me back, I remember." The corpse speaks, his voice rough. The sight is unsettling to Dream.
"That's right," the Necromancer says, smiling still. His voice is warm and low. Dream strains to hear it from his hiding spot. "What did you want me to say and to who?"
Dream furrows his brows in confusion. What odd game is this man playing at?
"Tell my parents... that I loved them. That I'm glad I got to serve my kingdom as I had. I... I did, right? I did good?" Dream's heart clenched at the quivering in the young soldier's voice. They remembered. They preserved their memories and thoughts and feelings. But...
Dream shook his head. No, corpses brought to life by necromancy are just reanimated. There should be no soul left within them. That is what every teaching has said before. The only exception being a corpse that is reanimated within mere minutes if dying. But this soldier died on the battlefield. He died days ago, at the least. So how?
"You fought so well," the Necromancer says. Dream sees tears fall from those warm brown eyes. "You saved many lives out there. You served king and country well."
"Good," the soldier says with a sad laugh. "Good... then. Then tell them that as well, please? And... and if you can find my brother, his name is Calrose, tell him I'm sorry for all the shit I gave him when we were young. And tell him that he was right about the ale. He'll know what I mean."
Dream feels he ought to turn away from such a seemingly private moment but he finds he cannot. He's transfixed on the sight.
"And tell my girl, sweet Alice, tell her I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise after all. Tell her I tried and that I-" And the young corpse bursts into tears. Or sounds like it, at least. There are no tears to be shed but the pained wail that is drawn forth from his throat couldn't be mistaken for anything else. The Necromancer leans toward and holds the young boy in his arms, ignorant of the rotting flesh and stale blood.
"I'll tell her. I'll tell them all. Don't you worry," the Necromancer whispers against the man's skull. There is a large gap in his head, Dream realizes now. His skull looks to have been smashed by something strong and heavy. It is most likely how he died. "You can rest easy now, lad. Be at peace. You've earned it."
And as the Necromancer lays the young man back down, Dream watches as the boy takes a final, shuttering breath in and sees the light in his eyes fade as the air is released. He is still once more but with the barest of smiles on his lips.
Dream is dumbfounded by this. By all of this. Everything he feels he knows has been turned upside down by a single man. So he follows him. He watches his movements through the city and witnesses many times his strange version of necromancy. He also witnesses the joy and sadness that it brings to the loved ones he tells each corpses last words to.
It's in a tavern, down by the ports, that Dream officially approaches the Necromancer. Hob, of course, picked up on his newest shadow that first day. It wasn't until just recently that he realized who it was that had been tailing him. And he's petrified. Hob well knows that necromancy within the walls of the kingdom is forbidden unless authorized. He thinks Dream is there to arrest him.
But no. Dream just wants to talk. And he doesn't ever mention his position as High Cleric either. And guessing by the black hooded cloak he wears, Hob is guessing Dream doesn't think he knows who he is either.
So they meet more often. Hob tells Dream of his life, of his experiences. He tells him of his experiences with Necromancy, specifically, and how he's found that more clings to a corpse than you might think. Especially if they had things they still wished to say.
Then one day the kingdom is attacked. The forces manage to breach the outer walls. Dream is darting all around, healing as best as he can, trying to help bolster their offenses. He sees Hob in the chaos of it all, rising corpses to help the fight. It is the first time he has seen this type of magic used in battle. It is the first time he sees Hob wield his skills for a fight.
Then Hob is shot at, an arrow sticks out of his chest and blood is running down his chin as it floods his lungs. The corpses he commanded fall to the ground as his focus breaks. Dream runs to him, ignorant of the continued onslaught. He holds Hob's hand as he calls forth every ounce of his drained power to breathe life back into damaged cells. But the arrow was poisoned. Death magic clings to the arrowhead and infects Hob's body from the inside out. He removes the arrow and allows his magic to flow inside, coating Hob is a warm, white light. He is healing, but it is slow. And with Dream drained as he is, he cannot overwhelm the opposing magic as he might normally. Still, he continues. And he is winning, slowly.
And then more arrows strike the pair. Dream covers Hob's body with his own but the thick cloak he wears only protects him so much. The garb he wears marks him as a Cleric and he has heard enough stories and read enough tales to know that picking off the healers early on is a prime battle stategy.
Hob tries to push him off, to cover him instead, but Dream holds him down, even as the venom embued in each strike weighs him down, Dream continues. Hob begs him to stop. That he'll kill himself if he keeps this up. And Dream knows that he is correct. He will die. But, he finds, as he summons forth the last reserve of his strength, he does not mind dying if it means Hob gets to live.
Besides, there are still words he would say to Hob. He will see him one last time before he goes for good after all.
He pushes all that is left of him into Hob and the death magic fades away. There is only light and love left in his cells. No more poison. Hob is safe.
Dream collapses. Hob scrambles up and drags them both out of the line of fire. Most of the enemy soldiers have left, continuing up through the kingdom. There is a clashing of steel and iron and the sound of magic being flung in the distance. But all Hob can see is Dream. His face lax in his lap. It makes him want to laugh and cry all at the same time because the first time Hob gets to see that beautiful face this calm is when he's dead...
Hob pulls the arrows from his body, discarding them in a pile and pulls the man's body close to his chest. He wishes, not for the first time in his life, that his gifts were of healing instead. Hob bows his head and kisses the soft skin of Dream's forehead and he whispers the words he has heard Dream speak before. Healing words. Hob feels a strange tingle within him. It responds differently than the magic he is used to. And then it is gone.
Hob frowns. And, going off of instinct, he speaks the words that he knows like breathing. His normal powers flood through him but they are also different. It twirls within him, mixing with some sort of foreign piece. But he continues, calling forth for Dream's spirit in the Ether and guides it back to his body. A soul cannot be reattached once the link between is broken. But it can reside there for a time. This is what Hob has learned over his years of study.
And today he is proven wrong. He watches as the chain that links them heals. It glows in a brilliant white light as Dream's soul is guided by golden hands that he knows are his own magic.
Hob looks down.
Dream's eyes open. And he smiles.
The best they can figure, once the kingdom is secured and the people and healed and tended to, is that Dream's own magic stuck with Hob and allowed him to perform both Cleric and Necromatic Magic simultaneously, effectively bringing Dream back from the dead.
It is something that needs further research and is happily agreed and funded by the Crown. Hob is promoted and works side by side with Dream now as they continue their research. They still go down to the healing bays on the weekend. Dream assists with the wounded and Hob still gathers the dead's last words. Life is good. Better than is has been. And Dream finally feels like he's rediscovered his sense of purpose. And Hob? Well, Hob's finally found what he thought he's never get: Love.
#dreamling#hob gadling#dream of the endless#the sandman#ky writes#cleric!Dream#necromancer!Hob#au idea
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heyyy it's the tropes jason anon again back at it with a new question! what quotes from the comic books would you say describe jason & his philosophy well? thank you so, so much for helping me out ❤
Hi again Anon!
Full disclosure here; I don't think Jason has been written consistently enough over the years to necessarily have one set, inarguable philosophy. But I do think there are certain themes that carry through.
So;
Red Hood: Lost Days #3
This is, notably, the first time Jason kills. (I'm not including Garzonas, which is debatable, or the Cheer incident, which is a retcon) He finds out his hand-to-hand teacher has a barn full of drugged children about to be sex trafficked. The cops and politicians are in on it, making lawful justice extremely unlikely, but taking out one man takes out the system. Jason crosses that line for the first time because nobody else is there to stop it, and this is the most practical route.
He does not see it as "murder" because he feels it was deserved.
Red Hood: Lost Days #4
After that line has been crossed - as Talia points out here - a pattern emerges. It's notable that Jason does not kill all his dubiously skilled teachers, only the ones he deems the worst of the worst - people deliberately and repeatedly harming everyday people, especially children.
Jason reiterates this in his famous utrh speech. He's not talking about killing every rogue, every criminal. He's talking about killing the worst of the worst, the people who can finagle their way out of the system, the people the system fails to catch.
Under the Red Hood
It would be remiss of me not to include that one time Jason killed a nazi. Good for her dot gif.
To Jason, these people are beyond the regular means of justice, so he provides his own. He stops them from hurting anybody else.
This is not an exclusively post-resurrection opinion of his, either. Jason expressed similar thoughts during his Robin run.
Batman #422 (thank you @benbamboozled 😘)
This woman, Judy, baited her sister's murderer into attacking her too and then slits his throat. She's unrepentant, and Jason agrees with her decision. (Bruce, for the record, gives a speech on how "nobody is above the law" which is. An interesting stance for an illegally operating vigilante to take lmao)
It makes sense to me that Jason, as someone who has seen the system fail repeatedly (both as a civilian and as a hero), would have those kinds of doubts. The system doesn't always work. The system often fails the most vulnerable people.
When Bruce was failed by the Gotham justice system, he became his own extra-judicial system. When Jason is failed by both the justice system *and* Bruce's own vigilante system? Why wouldn't he do the same.
Unfortunately, this thread is mostly dropped for a while with the wave of writers who either actively hate Jason and try to make him capital E Evil or who are playing shameless self insert with him, but there are two more recent panels that I want to include too;
Task Force Z #12
So, in TFZ, Jason pushes who he thinks is Bane off a roof for killing Alfred. It... is not actually Bane, but instead the brainwashed former corpse of Gotham re-reanimated via comicbook science and. You know what, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that Jason regrets killing Gotham because he didn't deserve it, but reiterates that he will kill the real Bane if he gets a chance.
Jason sees killing as something he can do that others can't, that others maybe *shouldn't* have to do.
The Joker: The Man Who Stopped Laughing #8
And finally, I adore this little beat in JTMWSL. This is something Jason thinks about. He's not just some brute that doesn't understand that "killing is bad". He thinks about it, reads theory about it. He sees that between the black and white, there are many, many shades of gray.
He understands that people who don't kill with their own hands aren't necessarily good people - like these cops here, gleefully waiting for him to be killed in prison. And that the people who *do* get their hands dirty aren't necessarily the bad guys - like poor Judy.
And I think he probably varies where he places himself on that scale at any given moment.
#I'm sorry anon none of these are strictly speaking quotes but this is what I've got lol#jason todd#asked and answered#long post#my meta
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