#anyway I think it’s the quest system that fucks me up

[jrwiyuri]

@antiobjecttaskforce the game is pathfinder wrath of the righteous

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)

I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.

It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time

tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b

When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.

It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆

Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!

I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.

The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.

Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.

And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.

“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.

“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”

“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.

Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”

“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”

Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”

Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.

Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”

“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.

“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”

Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”

Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”

Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.

What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.

“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.

“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”

He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.

"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.

“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."

Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”

“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”

He sighed, “I’m not.”

Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”

He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”

“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.

Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.

With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.

With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.

His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.

His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”

This is ridiculous.

Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.

Nothing.

"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.

He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.

He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.

Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.

After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.

So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.

It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.

Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.

In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.

But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.

Still.

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.

He held his breath, unconsciously.

With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.

"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."

Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.

Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.

"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.

But today, they were soft and out of focus.

"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.

"Am I dreaming?"

He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."

"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"

Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.

Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.

"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."

He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"

You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.

"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.

A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.

“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.

“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.

You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”

His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.

"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.

"When was your last time, mon cher?"

Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."

"You're in hell now."

"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.

"Look at me."

Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.

With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.

Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.

He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?

Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.

He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."

Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.

He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.

A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.

"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.

He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.

No.

Not enough.

Too soon.

A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.

He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.

When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.

Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.

He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.

"My doe?"

Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"

"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."

The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.

"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.

Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"

Suddenly, silence.

The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"

"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.

"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.

"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"

Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.

"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"

"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."

"Yet..." She cocked her brow.

"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."

Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"

"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.

She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"

His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."

He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.

But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?

"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."

Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.

For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.

To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.

He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.

Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.

The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.

One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.

You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.

And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.

Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.

He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.

When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”

༻Masterlist༺

[ma1dita]

buddy system

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.2k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he comes with you to rescue your twin brothers, Pollux and Castor. A weekend 'quest' teaches you a lot about Luke, and about yourself too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: um i cant apologize for this word count and ive been looking at this for too long so fuck. Anyways do yall think Luke felt bad when he found out Castor died in battle because of his army in this universe? just me?? okay :) also trouble gets a cool magic item that makes an appearance here, kinda works like polyjuice but with smoke

(posted 2/7/24 betad by lovely ellie @lixzey might edit again when i get some sleep)

—

“No. You might be my father, but you’re crazy, man!”

You’re standing in D’s office at the Big House, and what was supposed to be a short talk before the counselors’ meeting has turned into a full-blown argument. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the words leaving your godrent’s mouth.

You’re going to pick up your little brothers.

“Those two statements are both true, kid. You’re old enough to understand that!”

They need your help.

“You’re really letting your 16-year-old daughter drive down to Florida by herself to pick up some kids she’s never met? Won’t even send me with any quest companions, or like, Grover?” you say exasperatedly, before slumping down into a seat.

“Think of it as family bonding! They’re great from what I remember. You all need to get along anyway.”

Whether it was jealousy or the sudden urge to be petty, you impulsively grab your dad’s Diet Coke and chug it, crushing the can with your fist as a tiny act of rebellion. 

Another one appears on the desk and you chuck it over your shoulder. Mr. D sighs as he conjures another one, to which you do the same thing.

“I can do this all day, kid.”

“So can I, and you know if I do, we’ll be sitting here until I’m 40,” you say expectantly, tapping your fingers on the hardwood surface of his desk.

“What do you want?”

The keys to his car are a start, as well as extra pocket money—but there was something, or rather, someone missing to make sure this weekend goes as smoothly as possible.

Your smirk widens at your father, and he wonders when you’ve gotten good at playing his own game.

It’s like looking into a mirror but his worst nightmare manifested as a teenage girl.

—

There are only two things Luke can think about when he hears the sound of your laughter.

The first is that, unlike your angelic singing that could rival the Muses, your laughter takes after the sound of a maniac, an incredulous crescendo that only something curated by Hades in the deepest pits of Tartarus could produce. It was almost madness-inducing, and it went off in his brain like you were a siren (although he means the kind used for weather advisory, he too gets lured in by your laughter each time he hears it like a sailor lost at sea).

Second, as he watches you storm down the lawn of the Big House, your anger brewing something comparable to a Category 5, he raises an eyebrow and thinks, well this ought to be good. Or entertaining at the very least.

“You,” you growl at him, guttural and sharp like the finger you jab into his chest, “we’re going on a quest!”

“Me?” Luke blurts, eyebrows furrowing at you.

A loud groan echoes through the grassy space between the house and the counselors as everyone looks up to see Mr. D dragging his hands down his face at the sheer thought of his daughter causing him more gray hairs. 

“That’s not what we agreed on, kid!” “If you want any of your children to come back to this hellhole in one piece I need backup!” “There’s more of you?”

Both you and your dad glare at Luke now, like he’s interrupting a private conversation.

“Since when do you like asking for help, princess?” 

Mr. D’s arms are crossed over his chest as he speaks to you. Though your height severely differs due to the wooden steps of the Big House, the air is palpable with fear only an Olympian could invoke, reminding the counselors that the man wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to humankind, is in fact inhuman. You, however, are standing tall in the freshly-cut grass in your combat boots with wrath that could rival Ares’ as you stare your father down like the rest of them wouldn’t get struck into the next lifetime due to your impertinence, as Annabeth loves to call it. She looks up at Luke, with her eyes conveying that she thinks you must be clinically insane, but he knows that already, so he shrugs.

“I’m not asking for it, I’m demanding it. Besides, he’s like my ESA,” you say, then taking Luke by surprise as you grab him by the wrist and drag him off the front lawn. You think you can hear Beckendorf and Clarisse bite back chuckles.

“Someone tell Rodriguez he’s in charge of 11!” you yell into the air, and words of affirmation and good luck are muttered in response.

“Don’t I get a say in this, Trouble?” Luke says playfully, tugging at your arm lightly but unresisting as you sigh and pull him along. Who in their right mind says no to a long weekend away from this place? Monsters and demigods be damned.

“No. Besides, they’re gonna need more luck than we do.”

“Liam, I don’t know why she trusts you, but if my daughter dies, I’ll make sure you’re next!” Mr. D yells out to your retreating figures, and all of the counselors turn to face him realizing that without you, well… that means he actually has to be in charge.

“So what’s the meeting supposed to be about, Annabelle?” Mr. D says, looking at Annabeth only knowing that she’s supposed to be the smart one—and the small girl sighs.

This is gonna be the longest weekend yet.

—

You’re speeding down I-95 with the windows down and the wind brushing through both of your hair. While Luke watches you from the passenger seat with road signs blurring past his periphery, he also notices that it’s the first time in a while that he’s seen you this carefree. Both of you took up counselor positions a few months ago, and your dad appointed you to be in charge of all of them (because why have a counselor for a population of one), so there’s a lot about you that’s grown up in the two years you two have known each other. But what type of demigod gets to enjoy their childhood anyway, right? Luke can only remember bits and pieces of his.

“How do you even know where we’re going? I can barely read the signs,” he asks.

“Cool blessing from my stepmom. Ariadne’s chill. We talk sometimes and she likes that I keep D in check, so now I can never get lost,” you grin toothily, violet eyes flickering to meet his.

“Was it true what your dad said? That you trust me?”

His voice is a bit louder than it should be over the wind tunnel that blocks out the sound of the radio as the air whips in and out of the car.

“Well, I wouldn't say trust,” you drag out, leaning back against your seat with your eyes still on the road, “More like if I got abducted by a harpy, I think you could cut its wings off and give me a fighting chance at living.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Mason to come,” he mumbles, and you smirk, pretending not to hear.

“Who?”

His hands are clenched in his lap as a blush brushes his cheeks, windswept in the rays of the late summer sun.

“Your boyfriend. Wouldn’t he be a better companion?” 

Something about the older son of Apollo always ground his gears. It was even worse that you both would sing Broadway musicals together during his sparring sessions. Your harmonious voices echoing from the amphitheater aside, the repetitive grating feeling in his stomach reminds him not to go see Hamilton if he ever makes it out to the city.

“He’s not…” you huff, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you think hard on what to say next, “He’s nothing serious.” You pull the sun visor down as you squint, tilting your head in case he says something else, but you hear nothing. Luke’s staring at your side profile, unable to hide his grin at the new information, biting his cheek.

“Besides, he’s a fucking terrible shot. And you’re supposed to be the best, so I’ve heard. Who else would I want on this trip with me?”

He chuckles at this lightly, your words bolstering his ego.

“So you’ve heard.”

And for a second, the sight of his smile distracts you enough that the car swerves a tiny bit closer to the median. You both ignore it and keep driving.

—

Hypnos increases his hold on your senses as you finally take a break somewhere in North Carolina, taking refuge in a dimly lit corner of a gas station parking lot. The old car reeks of greasy fast food and all the sugar Luke could get his hands on at rest stops (it was really cute to see him indulge in more normal things like sweets instead of swordsmanship), and both of your seats are leaned back, but it’s hard to get comfortable after having your butt in the same seat for several hours.

You readjust yourself again, making the car shake a bit as you turn over to face Luke. 

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles through closed eyes. His head’s banged against the window one too many times, and it was starting to get annoying.

“Sorry. Just can’t sleep. Thinking too hard.”

He sighs, reaching over to toss your pillow into the backseat, and as you sit up, he rips your blanket off of you too.

“Hey!”

You go silent when you watch him make a makeshift bed for you, turning back with tired eyes as he gestures, “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“I feel bad, Luke. You’re taller than me and your knees almost hit the dashboard.”

He rubs at his eyes, looking at you impatiently, and you know his body is calling for comfort too.

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, you gotta remember that, Trouble.” The stories Annie used to tell you about the both of them sleeping on the streets pull at your heart, and as you crawl towards the back, you move before you think rationally–tugging on his arm.

“Come on over here.”

“You sure?” “Before I change my mind, yeah.”

You both move around trying to find a place both of you can be comfortable in, first starting with your heads at opposite windows, legs tangling in the middle before he laughs a little too hard at your fumbling and you launch your pillow at his face. Awkwardly, you climb over his legs into his outstretched arms, slotting yourself against his side as he pulls your hair up from getting trapped between his shoulder and your back.

It’s deadly quiet, and Luke thinks if you could move any closer to him, you might hear his heart thundering in his chest.

“You smell like french fries,” you grumble into his sweater, and his laughter shakes you like an earthquake, uprooting the faint traces of sleep in your mind. 

“At least the monsters won’t find us. Gonna be harder when the twins get here. A lot of demigod smell to ward off.”

You don’t answer, and he thinks you may have fallen asleep until he notices your hand playing with the frays of his sweater.

“Trouble?”

“They’re really little,” you mumble, so low that he barely hears the hesitance in your voice.

“The monsters? Yeah, I fucking ho–” “Pollux and Castor. My…half-siblings, with really Greek names, and a mom that depends on me getting them to camp safely…” you trail off before your head jerks up to meet his eyes. It’s colder at night now, your bodies and the tiny throw blanket from your trunk providing ample heat even if his socked feet fight their way out from underneath.

“How old are they, nine?” He feels you nod against his chest before he continues, “I was nine when I left home.”

Your eyes get glassy at the thought of a smaller version of Luke, one who’s not all gangly legs and lean muscle—one much softer and innocent than the boy you lean your weight upon, running away from home to find a place he can belong. 

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, the arm propped against the headrest wrapping around you and resting on your hip, tapping you to continue your previous thought.

“I don’t know how to do this, I guess. I’m ripping them from their home and I—” “You’re not some kind of monster y’know? You put yourself down too much sometimes,” he sighs, and he watches the windows slowly start to fog up, “What don’t you know how to do?”

Ignoring his question, you change the subject hoping to talk about something lighter, and far less revealing to the thoughts inside your head.

“Do you remember all of that? Going to school and chalking up the sidewalks on the way home, hopscotch and ice cream trucks… I don’t want to take them away from that.”

Luke ponders, digging through his brain for anything happy from his childhood, but through the years his memories started to collect dust in the back of his mind.

“I don’t remember much.”

“Gods, I’m sorry…” 

Mason had told you of your habit of putting your foot in your mouth. You dealt in extremes, giving too much or too little, always saying the wrong thing—and it was the reason why things didn’t go further with the son of Apollo. As well as with the daughter of Aphrodite you saw briefly that told you you didn’t know how to love, not if you didn’t know how to share yourself with others (yeah that one hurt a lot).

Sharing. 

That’s what you’re hesitant about.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now,” Luke mumbles, a beat of silence passing before he redirects the conversation like you did, “What don’t you know how to do, Trouble?”

“How to share. Be a sibling. Someone likeable, I guess.”

Luke doesn’t mean to laugh at your expense, but he does, and you punch his stomach hard enough he gasps for air.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone likes you.”

“Everyone’s usually scared of me because of D, or hates me because I take dessert privileges and write them up,” you say matter-of-factly, staring out the window above his head at the gentle shine of the moon on his features. It’s a crime for him to look so soft under the low light, and you realize you’re staring when he calls your name.

“No, you don’t get it—you’re the most selfless person I know. You give up sleep to sing to kids before bed, conjure juice boxes so they don’t pass out during training—I’ve seen you carry a kid almost as tall as you across camp because they broke their ankle. You’ve got a lot of love in that twisted heart of yours. I’d know… I mean—I have to share a lot… so I’m basically an expert.”

You blink at him as if seeing him in a new light, and you realize then why you picked him to go on this weekend quest with you. Your heartbeat slows despite the show of vulnerability in front of him, and you understand now that Luke makes you feel safe. Biting your lip to hold back a sigh, you decide to just unload the rest of your thoughts, knowing that you’re in the hands of someone who wants to hold the weight. “I’m just used to being alone, I think. I mean who knows what we're like when we're alone but us, right? What a terrifying thought,” you deflect, and Luke closely watches the slope of your nose, down to the smoothness of your lips, unable to put the right words to how he’s feeling.

 I know you, he thinks, and it's not as all bad as you make it seem.

“We’re never truly alone, y’know. Besides, even if you are, you still have me,” he says nonchalantly, and the warmth on your cheeks could generate enough heat to run the car for miles. Chuckling lightly as your eyes flutter closed, you know you need to rest before morning comes since you’re the only one between the two of you that can drive.

You reckon you’ll teach Luke by the end of the year if he wants to.

“We’re getting pretty terrible at this enemies thing, Castellan,” you jest with nothing hard to back it, and a smile falls onto both of your lips.

“We were never really enemies, Trouble. I just like getting on your nerves.”

Your laughs fall silent, settling into a comfortable silence, until his next words send you off into slumber as you listen.

“I remember my mom singing in the kitchen as she put peanut butter on my sandwiches. She'd act like she left the dishes out for me to wash, but let me lick the knife clean every time and I’d put too much soap and the sink would be filled with bubbles. I don't remember much else but that. Her kitchen. She smelled like…chamomile.”

A wandering hand pulls his free one into yours, holding it until sunrise.

—

You push Pollux and Castor out the door before the sun rises after a short stay at their mother’s house, and as the engine heats up, you and Luke watch them say goodbye to her with the both of you thinking of last words with your own. You ward off the hellhounds biting off at your heels for a few hours like how you deceived the police the day previous, with a purple Zippo lighter in hand (the smoke grants temporary illusions through any space you blow it into, and it smells like grapes---thanks D!). The kids sleep most of the way, none the wiser and heavy with sleep and their emotions of leaving everything they’ve ever known. Your eyes flicker to their sleeping heads in the rearview mirror every so often, ready to take them home.

Hours later, Luke decides to make you stop at a diner to get you a bit of rest, get actual food, and let the twins pee, and your head is bobbing slightly in front of your plate of food once he brings them back from the bathroom.

“You wash your hands?” you say tiredly, both Pollux and Castor shaking wet hands in your face in response, making you giggle before sipping at your coffee. Luke cut you off from Redbull yesterday, saying he was scared for your liver and saying you needed to drink something else for a bit. He bristles at the sight of you drinking more caffeine, and you smile as the mug touches your lips.

“You’re gonna kill yourself one day. At least your dad drinks Diet Coke.”

“Not by choice, though what a way to go!” you joke, and the twins giggle as the both of them gulp down root beer like it’s essential to their being. Luke sighs at the idea of you having two minions under your belt, who you’ll most definitely train to raise hell on Camp Half-Blood now that you’ve taken more of the administrative side of things.

“Is he your boyfriend, sissy?” Pollux, or maybe it’s Castor pipes up, swinging his legs under the table and you smile at the sound of the nickname, noticing the dimple in his cheek. Luke chokes on his burger, coughing until you elbow him.

“He’s more of my ESA,” you remark, and he still doesn’t know what that is, so he raises an eyebrow like your brothers do as they peer up at you from across the table.

“What’s an ESA?” Castor, you realize, who has no dimples, spits out behind munches of a pickle.

“Luke’s my emotional support animal.”

He eats the rest of your fries despite your confidence in that response, grumbling exactly how a resistant dog would.

As you’re paying the bill, a large shadow looms over the sunny disposition of everyone at your table—and then Luke shouts for everyone to cover their eyes. Glass shatters over you, revealing a hellhound the size of a minivan, and it pounces toward the twins, large teeth bared at their throats. Before Luke can pull his sword out, you whistle sharply and the sound whizzes through the air like a bullet as you toss the Zippo lighter at him as he’s pushing the kids to the car. Though he’s reluctant to lose sight of you, he covers them with an illusion, locking the doors despite their cries running headfirst back into battle and towards to you, with your thyrsus and him with his sword, back to back.

“They okay?” you heave, jabbing at the red-eyed canine between the eyes as Luke pulls around to slash it across the neck, coming out of the tussle unscathed as you both watch it keel over at your feet into golden dust minutes later.

“Yeah. Are you?”

Though you originally found it funny, Luke does perform his job well, getting you to calm down as he holds you to his chest until you can breathe normally again.

“Mhm. Just scared me.”

The two of you run out of the destroyed diner and into the warded-off car before the police show up, hand in hand as you escape without detection. As he falls asleep, Castor dreams that you two are Bonnie and Clyde like in an old Western movie he was definitely not old enough to watch.

—

You’re finally back on the Island now, only an hour away from Montauk and Luke is getting restless in the passenger seat. He pulls apples out of his backpack, wiping them off with his shirt as you sing along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.

And maybe someday when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about…. Foolish one… you hum, tapping the wheel to fight off your exhaustion.

Pollux and Castor are using their fingers to pretend to hop over obstacles in the smudged windows, babbling about something they did in class last week. The son of Hermes pulls out a pocketknife he nicked from a gas station this morning as he starts to cut the apples into pieces, putting some into a ziploc bag for the boys to share, and you smile at him, wistful at your trip nearing its finish line. If you weren’t enemies before this like he said, it’s crazy to consider him your closest friend.

But he is, isn’t he?

His knuckles nudge yours over the console, pressing an apple slice into your palm.

“You know, Castellan, you’re sweet when you want to be. Shame you and that sister of Annie’s didn’t work out.”

Luke scoffs at the reminder of his ex, slicing another piece off for you to eat. She did say he had wandering eyes…always looking for you. He’s not going to admit that though.

“I just know you like your apples cut. Saw you battling it out with a butter knife last week. Couldn’t help but notice,” he says lowly like it’s normal for people to be that considerate about others, normal for him to care about you like that, a constant push and pull between you two. 

“Hurts my teeth,” you mutter, and Luke chortles like you’ve told him something life-changing. Your hand bumps into his again, feeling nothing but his calloused fingers, and when you look up his cheek protrudes with the last slice.

“Tax,” he winks, and you’re delirious with this feeling that only he can bring you, almost comparable to being high.

The popstar’s voice continues to trill in the background, with my head in my hands, saying “How could I not see the signs?”

You both don’t realize you’ve stopped singing until Pollux pipes up asking for you to play Fireball by Mr. 305 himself.

—

The car finally pulls into the driveway of the forest path and you’re all greeted by the campers holding blazing lanterns. Chiron, your father, and the nymphs are waving as the twins marvel at the fairy lights strung up along the way for a warm welcome.

“You’re alive,” your dad remarks, and this time he doesn’t say it in jest, sounding more relieved.

“I was in good hands,” you affirm, looking up at Luke amongst the noise of your cheering friends and the feeling that comes with calling this place home.

The boys are tucked in at your side, shyly looking at the crowd, Pollux holding your hand while Castor holds onto Luke’s, and Chiron calls your attention.

“I know you didn’t get your official announcement,” he starts, and you laugh at that, remembering the bubbles in the lake.

“Because I pulled a fast one on D.”

“Nonetheless, I would love for you to get recognized for your efforts. Dionysus. Storyteller, Herald of Chaos,” he continues by announcing your name, and then,” Pollux, and Castor– children of the grapevine, the God of Wine!”

The campers are kneeling and you look at Luke, who’s smiling from the ground beside you.

“Take a picture, Trouble, it’ll last longer.”

“My children are home safe. And thank you, Castellan, for being a formidable companion. My deepest appreciation.” Mr. D sounds serious for once, pulling Luke up as he nods in respect.

It’s a crazy feeling to finally feel at home though you’ve been here for two years now. But you remind yourself quickly of why that is when you see Luke carrying Pollux on his shoulders as Castor latches onto his legs.

“You know, your family is a nightmare. You two hellions will fit right in,” he grins.

You can’t help but agree.

—

“I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes. I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed.” -Nizar Qabbani

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[novarowan]

Sagau draft

This is just a snippet of something that I wrote a couple of months ago, and I just want to know if anybody wants me to write more. I had a lot of fun writing it. Anyway, let me know what you think.

‘Well, isn’t this ironic?’ You think to yourself. You had just been reading SAGAU fanfics, (cause lets be honest, who wouldn’t want to be an ultimate creator god?) and now you find yourself running away from angry NPCs.

You gasped when you felt cold pain on your back. One of the knights had caught up to you and hit you with his sword. Choking from the sudden agony, you felt the adrenaline kick in and ran faster. You were coming up on the top of Starsnatch Cliff, and if only you could just jump into the ocean below, you could get away.

You heard them shout something at the same time that something popped up in your line of sight. You had no time to look at it though, and you couldn’t hear what they said. Your breathing was too loud to hear anything but your lungs working overtime.

There, THERE, THERE.

Without hesitation, you jump. The ocean was fast approaching, and you prayed that you would be able to make it out of this alive. If you entered wrong, it would be like landing on concrete from this height.

Feet first, you dropped into the calm waters.

You broke the surface with a gasp and began swimming to shore, laying on the sand in exhaustion.

“I can’t b-believe that fucking worked.” You let out a short, hysterical giggle before what looked like a black rectangle appeared in the corner of your eye. “What now?” You groaned. Today had been a long day already, and you had only been awake for an hour at most.

When you concentrated on it, it filled your vision.

“Welcome to Teyvat! As the creator of this version of Teyvat, your leveling path will be slightly different to the characters you have come to know. I am your handy assistant, Tutor, who will help you accomplish your ascension.”

“Uh… ok. At this point, I don’t think anything can shock me.” A little red dot appeared at the top of the rectangle, and a little arrow appeared on the right. You lifted your hand and touched it, a new message popping up.

“Quest one: Increase all elemental and physical resistances.”

“Hint: To increase resistances, you must experience the elements.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Your eyes shifted over to a new tab that came into existence after you finished reading. Touching it took you to a screen with a lot of stats.

Max HP:                      3,027

ATK:                             89

DEF:                            94

Elemental Mastery:      0

Max Stamina:              240

A new message popped up on the message screen. You quickly switch back over.

“ +1% Physical Resistance.

Total Physical Resistance: 1%”

You stare in disbelief. You had no idea what you could have done that you give you any sort of resistance. It wasn’t until your wound started to throb that you put the pieces together. “Are you fucking kidding me.”

“I have to literally get attacked with every element to complete this quest?”

“Correct.” The message came through on the screen before disappearing.

“So you can answer my questions.”

“Within reason. That is why I am called Tutor. I am created by the system to help the chosen players.”

“So there are others like me?”

“Correct. There were 1,000 players chosen to take this path.”

“Would you like to see your current talents?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.” A new tab appeared, and you moved over to that screen.

Resurrection: In case of death, Player will resurrect within 24 hours in a safe location.

Blessing of nature: Taking damage will increase resistance to that type of damage permanently.

“There’s only two.”

“Indeed. As you grow and ascend, you will receive more.”

“There is a chest 127 feet to your left that contains a dull blade. Please retrieve it to complete your quest.”

You blink and the screen disappears. You can see a little black dot in the corner of your eye. You quickly figured out that focusing on that dot opened the screen, and looking elsewhere closed it.

“Well, let’s get to it then, shall we?” You couldn’t say that you were necessarily excited about the prospect of intentionally being attacked, but if it helped you out, then it helped, end of story.

In the distance, you could see a little wooden chest. Upon opening, it did contain a sword, along with a couple of miscellaneous items.

“There they are!”

You whipped your head around to see a group of knights and…

“Oh shit.”

The acting grandmaster. Well, you were screwed. Might as well see if Resurrection worked like it was supposed to.

Standing your ground, you watched warily as they approached you. Your back was still hurting you, but you tried not to let it show.

“Imposter.” Jean spoke with authority. “Stand down and come with us peacefully.”

‘I have to get her to attack me.’ You thought and put on an arrogant air.

“And why would I do that, exactly? Have I committed a crime?”

Jean didn’t waver, or show much emotion other than the stern animosity on her face. “You are being charged with the heresy of impersonating our creator.”

“That’s a little bit overplayed, don’t you think?”

You swore that you had read so many SAGAU fics that you could quote every reason they had for killing you before they could say them.

“What?” Jean’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“I mean, do you really think that it’s my fault that I just so happened to get this exact face? You should blame my parents for being horny and conceiving me.”

Her mouth dropped open is shock and disgust. “Watch what you say, imposter.”

“Hey Jean, guess what?”

She glared at you.

“Your creator must be an insecure little bitch to have you guys kill anyone who looks like them.”

She moved faster than you thought she would. One second she was standing ten feet away. The next second, she was right in front of you, sword glowing teal and murder in her eyes.

‘Oh shit.’

A line of pure anemo energy slashed across your abdomen and chest, painting the sand red and drawing a scream of pain from your lips.

                                                            “+1% Anemo Resistance.

                                                            Total Anemo Resistance: 1%”

Searing pain unlike anything you had ever before. Distantly, you thought ‘Oh come on. Only one percent?’

“Is that all you got?” You grinned through the pain. She lifted her sword and swiped it across your face. Everything went black. She must have gotten your eyes. “C-come on, Jean. Really go at it.”

Sharp pain in your shoulder and your arm went dead.

“Physical Resistance +1%”   “Physical Resistance +1%”  “+1% Anemo Resistance.  “Physical Resistance +1%”  “Physical Resistance +1%”  “+1% Anemo Resistance.  “Physical Resistance +1%”  “Physical Resistance +1%” “Physical Resistance +1%”   “+1% Anemo Resistance.  “Physical Resistance +1%”  “Physical Resistance +1%” 

                                                “Total Physical Resistance: 10%”

                                                “Total Anemo Resistance: 4%”

                                                      Resurrection activated

                                                             23hrs 55secs

                                                                  ………

                                                                    10secs

You shot up into a sitting position, gasping for air and clawing at your chest. Your eyes darted around you, zeroing in on the weak light pouring into the cave you woke up in. You sighed in relief and flopped back down, accidentally hitting your head on a pebble. “Ow, What the fuck?”

                                                      “Geo Resistance +1%

                                                   Total Geo Resistance 1%”    

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You rubbed the back of your head and groaned. The humor of it wasn’t lost on you though, and you let out a giggle. “Hey Tutor?” The message box opened.

“How can I help you, Player?”

“If I sit under a waterfall, will that give me hydro resistance?”

“Yes, the flow of hydro energy would suffice to give you resistance. Note: The rate of resistance gain would be slower than if you were hit with pure hydro energy.”

“Thank you.” The message box disappeared. It was time to find out where you were and what to do next. Crawling from the little cave, you struggled to stand. Your legs were stiff and wobbly. Craggy cliffs and clouds filled your view. “Liyue, huh? I wonder who I’ll pick a fight with next?”

It took about two days to reach Liyue Harbor, but before you entered the city, you checked your screen.

                                                    Total Pyro Resistance: 0%

                                                    Total Hydro Resistance: 3%

                                                  Total Electro Resistance: 0%

                                                  Total Cryo Resistance: 0%

                                                  Total Dendro Resistance: 1%

                                                  Total Geo Resistance: 4%

                                                  Total Anemo Resistance: 11%

                                                  Total Physical Resistance: 15%

You had obviously run into some monsters on the way to the harbor, and that had increased your resistances. Not much, but at least if you ever ran into Xiao, it would hurt a bit less when he beat the shit out of you. Come to think of it, that seemed like a very likely possibility while being here.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 5

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Back at my desk for chapter 5 today, but no Charlie; he has abandoned me :(Tea this evening is Lady Grey with some milk and sugar.

Can you all believe that this is the last chapter of book 1????!?!? One out of 4 done! Anyways- let's get into this short chapter:

OMG. I would have been so pissed if I was transmigrated somewhere and had to start as an infant with my entire adult brain. RIP those circumstances for Airplane (p 264)

Honestly though, I am so here for the argument between Shang Qinghua/Airplane & Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan. Fight it out! The fan/not fan and the author who has no idea what's happening LOL

okay but I stand with Shang Qinghua/Airplane -> Shen Yuan really does know a lot of the lore for someone who supposedly hates this book (p265)

Oh god airplane doesn't even know that shen qingqiu here was poisoned (p267)

(okay Re: not knowing about the poisoning- correction he does, I dont know why he was confused about the mushroom side quest though. If anyone has clarity about this comment pls!)

okay but what's this demon- it's kind of scary clever (p269)

the SASS of this system going through an update and only giving automated answers LOL (p270)

it's making me laugh that the actual author and creator of this world cannot recall a single side character's name XD (p272)

+1 to the party! We have Gongyi Xiao (p 275).

what's touching him?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?! (p278) that's terrifying!!!!!

Shen Qingqiu still over here missing his boy. Re: Gongyi Xiao not being as good as Luo BInghe at picking up Shen Qingqiu's subtle non verbal cues while fighting and shen qingqiu being upset by it (p280)

I swear if that slither creature snatches those mushrooms before shen qingqiu has a chance to snag them I will be so pissed on his behalf (p282)

All three of them: WTF is that?!?!?! Airplane side eyeing shen yuan: did I write that tho??? (p.284)

RE: snatching the mushrooms- I don't think it can touch the mushrooms(?)

OMG. Shen qingqiu just made mortal enemies with this fish snake man (p 287)

At this point I don't know if he is trying to gaslight himself. But no matter what, Shen Qingqiu is really convincing people he's a little unwell about losing Luo Binghe. He mentally tells himself he's fine but man is his behaviour wild. (p 289)

OOp. Airplane calling Shen Yuan out about his feelings regarding Luo Binghe 👀 (p 290) Which Shen Qingqiu completely fails to respond to.

That's it for book 1!!!!!

I am NOT ready for the next turn of events. That foreshadowing at the end with this mushroom plot! These mushrooms better survive or poor Shen Qingqiu is fucked.

I cannot wait to start book 2 tomorrow!!!

[asukaskerian]

So he might have, at some point, tried to figure out an OC for Mobei-jun to ship w fuck. Dude was so perfect, it was a shame his dump truck ass and sequoia thighs remained unembraced. (Also the whole "he's so mysterious and never opens up and unveils his deep thoughts and tender feelings except for me" fantasy but never mind all that.)

He'd gone exactly as far as 'Meeting: why tf would he notice anyone. Enemies to lovers? No wait hed kill them straight away. Dashing rescue? Why does he need a rescue he's too cool and basically untrappable anyway, what are they rescuing him from socializing with his cousins lmao???' on his notes before giving up on making it realistic. The next scribble was 'cuz i said so ok next'.

There had been no 'next'. His battery had died and when he managed to get home and get his laptop plugged in it was time for another word vomit on the topic of Bing-ge's meat truncheon.

[Secret side-quest unlocked: Easter egg hunt! 1/536 discovered. Keep going!]

[Category: "is it a headcanon if you didn't think it up with your upper head?" 1/413]

--

1.8k, oneshot, mostly crack.

[tabr1-s]

hsr 2.3 rant (disguised as yet another sunday rant) ...... i didn't expect to make one for each penacony update but here we go again

(634 words - my shortest one yet!)

so, on one hand... it could've ended worse. we've regained 70 (or 65?) % of penacony's freedom. huzzah!

still feeling highly iffy about the ipc's involvement but because it was expected i'll let it slide. for now.

the ending was definitely rushed, it definitely had a "we don't concretely know how we want to wrap up this story so we'll just wing it" feel to it, but again... alright. whatever. could've been more robust but i'll also let that slide. the hoyo devs were probably waiting for a throwaway update to focus on other things anyway.

but, content wise, i am absolutely terrified of the implication of Robin reaching out to Jade for help with her brother.

we were shown the whole Bonajade exchange shtick when playing as Firefly (also not Jade deadnaming her but ok). initially i took it as Mainly filler content, with an opportunity to show us a bit more about Firefly. cool, yeah, makes sense. but it did also focus on How the exchange worked, and specifically made mention of what people have/had to pay for their exchanges with Jade. now, again, i thought that was just filler content.

but now that i think back to it, Robin's whole demeanour during the quest (maybe i was just seeing things but she seemed significantly more down/tired than before (due to very obvious reasons. i wonder how she's still standing)), Jade meeting Robin before her second negotiations with Alfalfa, and then the Bonajade exchange getting explained to us randomly... that was most likely foreshadowing for the last scene of 2.3.

which brings me back to, again, feeling Unwell over what Robin could've possibly agreed to with Jade concerning the freedom/future of her brother. (also if he's gonna join the ipc - Wholeheartedly fuck him. my beef with them is stronger than my love/hate towards Sunday.)

i don't even Want to begin thinking about what Robin might've exchanged for Jade's sudden interest in Sunday. and it also all seems very unfair - the lengths Robin would go to for her brother when he on the other hand was fine with outright using her to accomplish his goals (again, without even filling her in on What those goals were. i don't care if it was for his concept of the greater good, i am still pissed at him for completely disregarding her opinions on the matter and the Entirety Of Her Free Will As A Person. unironically my blood pressure spiked when i saw him in that last scene, and it certainly wasn't because i was excited. even writing this down gets my blood boiling.).

point is. if Sunday chooses to forsake Robin's love for him again (not him also being surprised that Robin was the reason why Jade reached out to him - like she literally hugged you and fell from the sky with you after your plans failed. don't act surprised that she's not mad at you. (and if the reason why you're surprised is because you don't trust Jade's intentions with her, then SHOW IT DAMN IT. STAND UP FOR HER)) i am going to be Supremely disappointed in him.

and yes, i know he's a fictional character.

but holy shit. i've never seen such an infuriatingly (and, sadly, realistically) stubborn character before.

and, like in my last rant - the sentiment that 'i would personally strangle him if it wasn't for Robin being sad over his death' remains.

anyway. Robin really needs a break. a long break. and to somehow find a good and reliable support system because her brother is not very reliable on that front.

...if i were to express my opinion on the matter.

[octochick]

i think its time for me to come back to my origins:

shitty spiderbit villain isekai au

Cw suicide idealization? Kinda? Nothing too realistic or explicit but there is a little bit

First, there's Cellbit, the 'villain'

-Was tricked by Mike into watching shitty fantasy harem anime #1413 (Mike doesn't like this type of anime, but he does like to see Cellbit suffering)

-And suffer he did, he was almost pulling his hair out when the first episode ended, and really did it when the opening spoiled the little mystery there was in the show

-He went to sleep balding mad and woke up in the body of 5 years old Farael, the prince of Embersland Kingdom, brother of Bagriela whom he is fighting for the crown

-There's also this voice in his head telling him that he needs to follow the plot and shit and he's just like- what the fuck do you even mean by this, I wanna out, get me the fuck outta here

-'Follow the plot and it may be considered to send you back', it says, and Cellbit obviously argues with it because 'Don't fuck with me like that, get me out of here right now' and 'No sorry can't do', 'What I have to do to go back? Send me back right now' and it's this back and forth until the system is tired enough to just say 'Die by the hero's blade and we'll send you back' and Cellbit's like 'Ok fine'

-It's not really fine because it will take at least two decades before he will be able to be killed by the hero, but it's something more concrete than a simple possibility so he will take it

-So he starts preparing to be a villain, quite successfully if you may allow him. And the worst part is that he really ends up as a 'good' villain, winning the crown from Bagi, organizing an army, making evil plans full of twists and turns, neglecting the people, all in all he is a decent villain for a bellow average harem anime

-(Btw, there are some reason why a 'normal' person from the real world ends up being so good at being evil, that includes: he's already something of a freak, he thinks this is just a shitty harem anime, he never had any contact with other people that aren't nobility or servants except for a single instance. He really wants to go back, he thinks nothing in this world matters, and it's part of his bucket list so...)

And then there's Roier, the 'hero'

-He's just a peasant boy living in a frontier town, abandoned by his father, mother died during childbirth, raised by his old abuelo

-He does odd jobs around town and helps in the adventurers guild, going in a small quest here and there, nothing too big despite him being quite good with a sword

-That is, until Bagis busts into the guild asking for help to defeat her brother before he does even worse than he already did, of course for a handsome reward

-But everyone there knows how much of a tyrant King Farael is, and how they'll end up with their salted heads hung in the public square if they do anything against him so no one accepts it

-Roier comes in late, and Bagi begs for him to help her... he really doesn't want to, but money's tight and he really needs it because abuelo has been getting worse recently and there's not a lot else he can do (Saving the kingdom is just a bonus for him)

-And so they go out on this quest, they recruit some other people during the way (In the original anime they're all woman and part of his 'harem') and plan how to end King Farael's reign of terror once and for all

-Syke! Cellbit kidnaps Roier when they're near the capital and brings him to a 'dinner' to monologue to him about his evil plans (It's to motivate Roier to really kill him, he can't be imprisoned or exiled, he has to be killed)

-Anyways they get a little frisky and end up in a knife fight where Roier cuts Cellbit's mask in half and oh shit! This guy, tyrant King Farael is Roier's first crush! He knows he is, his blue eyes are the same as he remembers!

-The rescue party arrives at the castle and saves Roier, while he is slightly confused about the villain

-It's not even about the puppy crush he had on him, even if it did help him think about the situation from a slightly different angle, it's more like how his evil plan now sounds like a very elaborated suicide attempt

-Well, if this is what the villain wants, then he won't let him have it!

-Meanwhile Cellbit is surprised Roier remembers him, but is otherwise happy because he thinks now Roier has even more reasons to kill him

... and that's all I have until now

[kit-williams]

I'm finally playing a Black Crusade Game

SO yesterday we finally started a Black Crusade game from our forever DM! Whom hates Black Crusade... but he was feeling 40k.

So the game is Me, my husband, and our other mutual friend who in the game is named Mec. Mec isn't a fan of 40k rpgs we (me, my husband, and our friend) all got introduced to warhammer via Warhammer Fantasy 2e (so we're all biased)

But this is the game i was going to be a space marine but no this isnt the Dog Centaur night lord this is Khornite Blood Angel! Angelos! errr Angela.

See Mec wanted a few concessions since we're going to be dealing with a lot of space marines that why can't there be female space marines so I was given the option to swap Angelos to Angela which I did (Hubby has filled my DMs with Mommy Angela) (also cuz he is a DM who will genderlock stuff but he will also allow you to do very interesting stuff with gender like allowing my one Fantasy character to be genderfluid but it also made sense due to how Fantasy Norsca works and because of how actual viking society worked) [reeling in the tangent!]

SO I'm a Khornite Berserker [Tome of Blood Starting Class] Fallen Blood Angel named Angela

I made a great first impression in the chaos city we landed in and thus scaring away the "welcoming committee" by watching one man get shot and then going over to the dying man and ripping out his throat and drinking his blood.

I got bullied by an Ancient Night Lord (which I failed the test to id him as being either a Night Lord or Alpha Legion ((Which to be fair is a safe guess))) who basically outed me as a Blood Angel and told everyone to be aware of me (aka I have the Betrayer Talent) did the whole "You keep my father's name out of your dirty mouth" but otherwise was hissy at him I'm around 200 years old I am a baby to that man I wasn't going to fight an established Night Lord.

But after getting bullied everyone in the Eye of Terror(?) got a vision that on this planet was the keys to the next crusade which will happen in the next century. So everything exploded into violence!

So at the moment we are gathering troops right now we've got some gangers and mutants but I am the Warband's only Space Marine which we will have to fix as well as getting us a ship too

We're going to play again tonight because we had a lot of fun and our DM wants to get us off planet.

ALSO

We've been playing Warhammer Fantasy 4e which has this cool Advantage mechanic which for normal Cubical 7 games if you do a successful parry no matter the degrees of success you just avoid it completely... this leads to Black Crusade and Dark Heresy and I think also Rogue Trader combat to fucking DRAG ON. We introduced the advantage system which means that if you attack me with only 1 degree of success but I parry with 1 or more degrees higher THEN I avoid the attack. But if your attack has more degrees of success than my parry then in fantasy I'm allowed to reduce the damage. But we're just using advantage to speed up the combat and it worked.

Anyway I'll give you an update on the Harbingers of the Apocalypse on our quest to be amazing.

As long as there are no Iron Warriors thrown my way I should be fine

[justablah56]

Dndads?

DNDADS !!!! I'm assuming you're asking me like . what it is n shit . if not . my b . bcs I am about to give you as big of an infodump as I can without spoiling anything lmao .

anyways hello my dear follower , my beloved dungeons and daddies (not a bdsm podcast) is my favorite thing ever <3 it's usually very loosely a dnd podcast , season three tho switches into the call of cthulhu system .

season one is 69 (nice) episodes about four normal world dads and their sons who all get sucked into faerun , a dnd world basically , through a portal while trying to go to their kids soccer game lmao . they end up losing their kids and basically the whole season is them trying to find their kids and then trying to find a way back home with tons of little side quests and detours that they take along the way . most of it is super comedic and lighthearted and it's also just fucking insane sometimes but it also has a lot of super compelling emotional moments and iughencmd it's so good oh my god .

season two is a continuation of the world created in season one , but now the players are playing as the teenaged grandchildren of their original dad characters , and it's heavily influenced by season one so you can't really listen to it on its own . season two is 50 smthin episodes of these teens basically trying to clean up the world after the things that their parents (aka , the kids from season one , aka , the kiddads) and their grandparents did between seasons to try and fix things and kinda ended up making everything worse cbnsndnsnd and it kinda starts off with the kiddads all going missing and suddenly these teenagers are supposed to be in charge of everything the kiddads were originally doing to fix everything . season two is I think a bit less comedic than season 1 , but it does have like . twice as many of those absolutely fucking insane moments lmao , and it does still have a lot of cool emotional moments and ougjfj it's all so good .

a lot of what I post abt usually has to do with this sort of untold season that happened between seasons with the kiddads . a lot of people are very attached to the kiddads , and to me a lot of it is bcs these are the characters we've known for the longest and we've seen them as kids and we see how the events of the first seasons shaped them into the adults they are in season two and man . it's just so cool . season two gives us a lot of small hints to stuff that happened between seasons , and we get a few flashbacks , but there's a lot of stuff that we don't know , and there's so much speculation abt how things happened and it's a very fun sandbox to play in chwndnsnmxx anyways .

season three started just a bit ago , there's 3 episodes so far . they switched who was the dm and so it's a new universe with no relation to the first two seasons , and could pretty easily be listened to on its own . season three is set at some point in the 1950s , and the four characters don't really have like . a solid thing they can all be described as . there's like . a teacher and a weird wife and a car salesman and a teenager . they're great . but it's these four characters who are all in a bowling league together and they're kinda figuring out that hey weird stuff is happening around here and there's monsters and just a ton of stuff and so far it is absolutely hilarious , I love it dearly <3 every character is just . fucking insane . and the dynamic is great , it's just awesome and I personally am having a blast with it so far

ok anyways . thats dndads lmao . if theres anything more specific you want to know literally pleaaaaase ask me and I will be soooooo excited to tell you cndnmxmdmd I'm completely and utterly obsessed with this podcast , I've listened to it . so many times . I will talk about it any chance I get , it's just great . I love it . and that's not even to mention the wonderful community here on Tumblr !!!! it's a relatively small fandom , so for the most part everyone at least recognizes everyone else , and everyone is just so awesome , ive made so many friends through this fandom , its great

[thegeminisage]

STAR TREK UPDATE TIME. last night we watched voy's "waking moments" and ds9's "waltz" (omg waltz).

waking moments (voy):

i was afraid this one would be bad but it was good! -something i say about voyager a lot lately.

naked tuvok was extremely funny especially when they kept teasing him about it. he's like "vulcans dont experience embarrassment may we please change the subject as quickly as possible"

my villain origin story is when inception came out and claimed to be about lucid dreaming i, who was at the time obsessed with lucid dreaming and attempting to teach myself to do it, flipped my lid because absolutely none of it was even remotely accurate to like, actual dream science. (in the very first act, someone READS, which like...you can't read in dreams or at the very least not in the same way you do as in reality. i spent the whole movie fuming and took something very different from it than the shipping girlies did)

anyway, this healed me, because while i WAS annoyed that tom paris was like yeah one time with no training whatsoever i had a lucid dream (not impossible but man come on), he did quickly and accurately explain what they ACTUALLY were

this is also a piece of media that made me very afraid of the moon. just like majora's mask

like, the plot twist when he thought he was awake but was still dreaming...damn...they got us...and then they did it AGAIN. those magnificent bastards, etc

like, not only is that a very successful and smart bit of writing to be able to do the same twist twice, it had me guessing for the rest of the episode at what might be real and what might be fake. they could never do this, but chakotay seeing the moon again in the final shot would have been great

speaking of chakotay, can we please stop saying "vision quest" on this television show. that's two episodes in a row. he can just lucid dream like anybody. don't worry about it. you don't have to make a special racist lucid dreaming ritual

waltz (ds9):

OMG WALTZ...............................

dukat is crazy. off his fucking rocker. it's so good and so layered and it's the perfect way to illustrate that like. the ramifications of colonization and occupation on EVERYBODY involved without forgiving him for what he did and what was his personal responsibility to stand up against and like. how "good" people who do nothing are in so many ways worse than evildoers and become evil in a system that turns them into evil people because if you're not against the oppressors you're literally with them

like, dukat shows up to bajor and he is just Some Guy. shaped by the values of his culture (ie that their race is superior and colonization is the cool hip thing to do) yeah but he's just a dude. he's never really had to look at it up close until now. so he looks around at the labor camps and the executions and he goes yikes this makes me squeamish! hey guys what if we were super nice to the bajorans. and then less bajorans died and they were like Great this enables us to fight back better! let's do some terrorism! and he was like wait what why are you fighting back. you're supposed to love me because i said we should kill less of you. like i need you tell me it's all okay now and i fixed it and he absolutely SNAPPED when they would not do that

like he's crazy now but i think this is just the final result of like. he looked around at what was happening and he could not deal with the fact that he was participating in it. he needed someone anyone to tell him he was good and kind and loved and would never do such bad horrible things unless he was FORCED to and when no one told him that he just told himself that and it became the truth. because either someone forced him to do this or it's his fault and he is a bad and evil person

he begged sisko ALL. EPISODE. to tell him he wasn't evil. he just wants one single person to tell him he's not a bad person. that he wasn't a bad person when he raped leeta, or (in all probability) ziyal's mother. that he wasn't a bad person when he sentenced innocents to torture and execution and that he wasn't a bad person for overseeing the slave labor that BUILT THIS FUCKING STATION

and no one will tell him! his own daughter wouldn't tell him! ziyal got FUCKING SHOT because he's so evil his OWN DAUGHTER could not stomach what he's done. HIS OWN DAUGHTER. and he's so evil that he's not even grieving for her! he's grieving for the loss of the one person he had managed to trick into thinking he WASN'T evil! when sisko took him into prison and he handed back that baseball he was full of forgiveness because he wants just ONE PERSON to forgive him (even kira said this in a previous episode) and like NO ONE CAN. his own daughter can't!

and then hes like. well they MADE ME do this. the bajorans MADE ME punish them because they wouldn't worship me for being SLIGHTLY less awful than the other people occupying their planet and forcing them into labor camps. but I'M less awful everybody should LIKE me everybody should FORGIVE me but they MADE me execute them by the hundreds and rape and torture them they MADE me do that!

AND HE'S NOT EVEN GETTING MAD AT THE RIGHT PEOPLE. you could justify anger at the cardassian government even if that still does not let you off the hook morally for helping that government commit atrocities but he CAN'T. because his identity and his idea of acceptance is so tied up in that society he CANNOT believe it's the problem because it's too much like believing HE is the problem and he CANNOT be the problem because HE'S good and moral and soooo nice to bajorans! he was even "in love" (blech) with the bajoran who became ziyal's mom! he loves bajorans so much he called leeta into his office just to be better friends with one and definitely not abuse her at all!

and the end result is you take this mostly normal guy who is not a good person by any means but is also vaguely squeamish about war crimes happening right in front of him. and you put this guy who wants really badly to be liked in this position of immense power where he is doomed to be hated. and what that does is turn him into the screaming maniac we got in this episode saying he should have killed every bajoran man woman and child who ever lived. colonization ALSO HURT HIM, irreparably. like we're also doing a fantastic at job at illustrating the evils of colonization - just the entire concept of it is so systemically rancid that it is hurting and making worse literally every single person involved, because the people upholding it and participating in it, like dukat, can never ever be forgiven for that crime

AND HE SHOULDN'T BE. this is so crucial: there is NO sympathy. sure he is suffering but he made his own bed of nails he dug his own fucking grave and he DESERVES TO SUFFER there is no fucking m*rvel let's meow meow this guy bs. this is not l*ki this is not w*rd this is a fucking killer. this is a guy who sisko hits on the head with a pipe and says AND THAT IS WHY YOU'RE NOT EVIL??? we joke about speaking truth to power but jesus fucking christ sisko shouted it at power from the ground with a broken fucking arm and a phaser pointed at his head

it's just such a good job at making such a complex fucking villain without him needing a redemption or a sad little wet cat phase. it's so refreshing. sisko literally said damn sometimes i forget people really are evil but there it is. i hit evil on the head with a pipe and told him to get fucked

and by the way.......the fact that avery brooks did do little outside of ds9 is a fucking crime because good lord that man can ACT. the fact that he didn't win that vintage hot guy scifi poll is fucking unforgivable. not only is he hot but he is out-acting everybody else on that show by MILES except for perhaps nana visitor whomst he is only out-acting for like maybe one mile. he's running fucking circles around them. he should have been an a-lister. sisko is so cool and badass and sexy and i had never even HEARD of him until i was like halfway through tng. again i say: unforgiveable!!!!!

LIKE. HE FEARS NO EVIL BECAUSE HE IS THE EVILLEST MOTHERFUCKER IN THE VALLEY. YES HE IS. HE HITS EVIL ON THE HEAD WITH A PIPE. HE TELLS EVIL YOU'RE A BAD PERSON AND YOU DESERVE THE SUFFERING. god. god!!!!!!!!

okay. i'm calm. i'm normal. ds9 GOOD.

TONIGHT: voy's "message in a bottle" and ds9's "who mourns for morn?" rip morn :(

[bonesandthebees]

Hi again Bee.

Thank you for lending an ear to listen even if I just kinda showed up. I really appreciate it. I've actually been reading through some of your other stories and they're very good (I adore the fae works!).

When it comes to Wilbur, I'm just. Very disappointed and upset. Of course I support Shubble and am glad she spoke out, it's very important and I'm glad that it's encouraged others to come forward with their own stories of abuse at the hands of large creators. At the same time though part of me wishes she hadn't said anything, so I could have continued as I was, in blissful ignorance, even if I feel really guilty for thinking like that.

It just saddens me that someone I looked up to so much ended up being this horrible person. It makes me worried that I too am bad, that somehow he has imprinted his awfulness unto me. I used to be horrible too. I like to think I've grown as a person, I was only a kid, but have I? Or was being drawn to Wilbur a sign? Like attracting like?

Y'know, I used to say that my hair style goals were how Wilbur's hair is, and recently I got a haircut. When I took a shower earlier it ended up floofing up in a similar way to his. I don't know how to feel about that. Maybe I should style it differently, even though I like the floof. I don't want to be even a little reminiscent of an abuser.

I am reminiscent of him though, in ways I can't change. I used to feel so seen by him, we're both song writers, and hypochondriacs, and I wanted to be him so badly I would cry. I would cry because he was everything I desperately craved to be as an insecure transmasc, an attractive guy with a beautiful voice and an amazing life. And now he's horrible, and probably always has been, and all of my memories of him are tainted.

I hate that I can't listen to Lovejoy anymore. It feels unfair to the other band members. It isn't their fault Wilbur is awful, and yet I'm taking away a source of their income. I know I'm taking away from Wilbur too, but he's only one person out of the group. Maybe that's just me giving an excuse so that I won't have to stop enjoying their music. It doesn't matter, I can't stomach listening to them anymore anyways.

I keep getting songs from YCGMA stuck in my head. It's like now that I can't listen to it anymore my brain has decided to fuck with me by making me listen to it anyways. I can't even justify listening to that album, that's just Wilbur's music. I was going to cover a song from that album for fun. Now I can't.

Is it bad I still find comfort in Wilbur as a character? C!Tommy is my favorite, but C!Wilbur is almost always a huge part of any C!Tommy story and I love C!Wilbur stories too. I know C! ≠ CC! but I just. It's complicated.

Idek why I'm this upset. I haven't been an avid watcher of anyone in the DSMP in at least over a year. If anything this whole thing has brought me back into the fandom more than I have been in ages. I feel bad about that, but also this situation has introduced me to people like Aimsey, whose content I'm seeing more of and I find myself enjoying.

I've also found more great DSMP fics lately in my quest to binge read them before the mass deletions start. Is it bad to find good things in a bad situation?

I'm sorry for the lack of put togetherness and the length of this ask. I promise I'm usually more coherent and to the point.

-Tech (just call me Tech like a name, "tech anon" feels weird heh)

hey tech, sorry for a bit of a late reply I've been busy the past few days

(sorry about the 'tech anon' thing, it's just a habit since that's how I refer to most of my anons. I'm going to still tag your ask as tech anon though just for my tagging system if that's okay)

I'm so glad you like the fae stories!! I'm still so proud of both of those looking back on them

anyway, yeah, I get that. I get the guilty wish that none of this had ever come out so you could just continue to go on in blissful ignorance. when someone learns something very upsetting, it's only natural to feel like you wish you never learned that. you don't need to feel guilty for that. you're not a bad person for your emotional reactions to things. your actions are what matters.

also, you are in no way a bad person because you were drawn to wilbur's content. the persona wilbur put on for the internet was not representative of who he actually was. you were drawn to the facade. an illusion of the person wilbur could've been, if he actually practiced the things he preached. you said you used to be a bad person, but you've changed. the fact that you are worried at all that you might still be bad shows a level of self-awareness and concern that wilbur apparently did not have. because wilbur was aware he was a bad person and treated the people around him terribly, but he didn't care to try and be better. as long as you're trying to be better, you're already leagues ahead of him.

also, regarding the hair, the floofy fringe is an incredibly common haircut. that is not exclusive to wilbur soot. you do not look like him if your hair does the floof similarly to his, it just makes you look like thousands of other dudes with fluffy fringe.

the day after shelby first streamed I had an MSR song stuck in my head and I hated it so much. it really sucks. you just have to try and drown it out with other music

it's not hypocritical at all to still find comfort in c!wilbur. I know it's complicated, and there's so much discussion I could get into as to why it's so complicated, but we can all separate the guy and the character in our heads. there's no reason to feel guilty about that. and there's also nothing bad about finding good in this situation. I think it's really sweet that you've found so many great fics in this time and I'm so glad you've been getting comfort from them. you're appreciating the authors hard work and that's a good thing! you don't need to feel bad about that

I hope you're doing okay tech

[river-muse]

That WIP ask game is seriously an underrated concept tbh, authors should be able to air out their works and ideas if they want to, even if those are unfinished.

Since I've been bugging you a little about MH I think I have to ask about the Monster Hunter Derelict WIP. MH Is an interesting setting for sure, but it's also hard to think of something to write in it, except maybe a dnd-like hunter party? Anyway, I'm rambling, definitely interested what you had going on There.

Also, I'm a filthy cheater and a sucker for time-themed fiction, so I definitely have to ask about Whatever Time May Bring. Feel free to ignore my filthy cheater double request tho

I agree! Being able to show off stuff we're working on without perfection being expected is super fun because I can pick out highlights and hold it up without needing to go "is this polished enough to be read?"

Since one is sort of a mini-fic that's an AU me and one of my close friends are messing around with for the funnies I'll answer both of your requests! I'm giggling and rubbing my hands together.

Monster Hunter Dereliction is the working title of a DMC MonHun AU that centers around a small Guild outpost in the Old World that pretty much has its shit figured out due to there not being many settlements in the area that need to be protected. My friend and I went "fuck it minimal family loss trauma in this department" so a lot of the cast is Around(tm) except for Sparda(we haven't decided what happened to him yet if anything).

There's sort of a plot figured out, though most of it's up in the air because we haven't had too much of a chance to talk more thoroughly about it and are just in the brainstorming department. We really just wanted to come up with our own biomes and monster designs for fun. It would involve a clash between two Elders breaking open a crevice in the earth that reveals an underground cavern system- and unknowingly awakening an Elder that has almost cosmic horror-esque traits to it. There's a sketch but it's not mine so I'd have to ask my friend later if he'd be cool with me sharing it.

For a little insight into some character placements, since I'm a bit obsessive about how lore in MonHun goes xD I won't go into what everyone is doing but I will share a handful.

I don't have much in way of writing, since I just got a few key ideas down- but have at it!

I think we decided Dante was the master in that area? He's mostly chilling around the outpost unless something super dangerous comes up that he's needed for.

Vergil is a high-ranking hunter who tends to do tasks for the Scholars that takes him into dangerous areas for the challenge and potential to explore old ruins. He's in and out of the outpost a lot on a whim so unless he's requested specifically good luck finding him.

Nero is an established hunter who tends to get a little babied by the others, which leads to him being more adamant about pushing his limits to prove himself and get them to stop worrying.

Eva regularly travels, recording locales and monsters in general peace.

Kyrie acts as the guild sweetheart for the location, handling quest assignments and making sure the hunters are properly prepared.

Credo is one of the residing guild knights, which is a rank in the guild that handles upholding guild regulation and deciding on punishment for anyone caught illegally poaching monsters.

Nell is the residential smithy! She's been training Nico for a long time now to take over in the future.

For now Nico tends to tag along behind Nero on a lot of hunts to observe them, swipe some new materials for herself, and experiment with equipment that diverts away from standard expectations.

Patty is a guild sweetheart in training, if I remember right? I only wrote her name in all caps in this post-it note and nothing else fdsgfbsdxjkgbj

-

Dante’s late to leave his room today, not expecting too many requests to come in if any. It’s been quiet since they’d sorted out the sudden influx of larger wyverns that had migrated South from their own territories. Which isn’t a good sign. It could mean something bigger is on the way soon. However nothing’s turned up. So to him the problem’s been solved. The peace lasts about as long as expected though, because the door pushes open without so much as a knock from the incoming visitor. It’s Lady. Not even in her armor yet but scowling as if she’d just gotten tossed around by a Diablos. “Where’s your fucking brother?” “Not even a good morning?” Dante yawns. “Passed morning a few hours ago.” Lady crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe “Now about Vergil-“ “Do I look like my brother’s keeper?” When It’s obvious Lady isn’t accepting that as an answer he groans and rests his feet on his desk “Out. On an expedition. That’s why one of the aptonoth aren’t in the stable. He’s North, checking out whatever caused that Wyvern displacement. Should be back in a few days.”

-

Vergil lingers by the ledge of the massive crevice, peering into the darkness to see faint shimmers of light that waver as if moving. It’s odd. With most of the trees decimated there should be plenty of sunlight shining down to show whatever’s down there. The darkness opens its eyes. Swirling colors and glowing light as faint pupils shrink to paper-thin slits when they focus on him. From the positioning of them Vergil isn’t sure if he’s looking face-to-face with a creature or with multiple. He doesn’t recognize any visible traits and stumbles away from the ledge. There’s a snapping noise and Vergil looks back to see the aptonoth has broken her binds in her attempt to flee, taking all of Vergil’s gear with her as she disappears into the treeline. A rattling, warbling noise that resembles a broken horn echoes loud enough that it hurts Vergil’s ears. He covers them with his hands and regrets not bringing earplugs. Something cold enough to leech the temperature through his armor wraps around his ankle, and drags him into the crevice. He grasps at the rock. His gloves dig in and he struggles to grab his blade. It slips from his hands and he falls with it. Darkness engulfs his vision made to feel darker by the eyes that fill his peripheral. One more eye, larger than all the others, opens up in front of him to blot out his last view of the sun.

-

Nero’s the first to volunteer and the first to be ready to depart. He shuffles about, fretting over what equipment to take and how long of a trip it will be. “Don’t you dare authorize that mission.” Credo objects, smacking his hand on the table “There’s no telling how long he’ll be gone, and if there is a wyvern strong enough out there to take Vergil down then I don’t feel comfortable sending him out.” “He’s qualified. Just as capable as the rest of us.” Dante insists “You need to stop babying him or he’ll never get his feet under him.” “How dare you accuse me of coddling one of our hunters?” “You’re not really beating the allegations. Especially since he’s got a crush on your sister.” “Do not-“ Nero objects. Dante stares, raises an eyebrow, and Nero clicks his tongue. Nero looks away while his cheeks flush red.

---

NOW onto-

Whatever Time May Bring. You have sniffed out the ONE NASNAH part that I think you're going to love the most, because it takes place when Nero's 15 and a certain 8 year old girl finds her way into Dante's life. It skims through the anime timeline and a bit beyond, since for reasons not yet revealed in the plot Dante decides to keep Vergil and Nero out of most of the details of his demon hunting work. It's a scene compilation like how "In Leaps and Bounds" was for little Nero. It's also finally the time where Nero starts questioning his family's behavior and secrets more than before.

-

Vergil watches the ensuing exchange with all of his attention he can muster. There’s something comedic about a young child pushing Dante to wits’ end when Nero at that age earned nothing but Dante’s adoration. He then notices Nero’s uncharacteristic silence. It takes just one glance to see Nero’s eyes are wide, watching Patty with an expression that he hasn’t seen before. “Nero?” Nero startles out of his thoughts, straightening up. “Uh, hi.” Nero says. He picks up his coat from the floor and dusts it off. “A little slow on the uptake. Did you overheat trying to wear that over here?” Dante asks. “No just-“ Nero looks away and seems to get his bearings “-wasn’t expecting to see you taking care of a kid. He’s being nice to you, right?” Nero looks at Patty with his question. “He’s horrible! He doesn’t clean, never explains anything until after it happens, and won’t eat anything but pizza and strawberry sundaes. I’m surprised he even knows what tomato juice is let alone drinks it.” Patty pouts and motions at Dante with a pointed finger.

-

Patty is- energetic. She’s outspoken and from how she speaks her mind is sharper than she leads others to believe. Yet she’s very much a child in how she behaves. Much like how Dante had been at her age to an extent. It had been obnoxious to deal with when younger, but Vergil can rationalize it as normal behavior for children in hindsight. Nero’s odd phase of having become quiet and calm as a child must have been a special case. “Would you advise I rescue Nero now, or later?” Vergil questions. “I think they’ll get along just fine without us hovering.” Dante pushes up from his chair and nudges a box of stuffed animals to the side with his foot. He tilts his head to the hallway door “Let’s leave them to it.” “And what will we be doing, instead?” “If you don’t want to know the weird details of the job, then I guess we can stay here and listen to Patty go on all day about that stupid show.” “Hey! I heard that.” Patty speaks up, looking over from the couch. “I wasn’t talking to you.” “But you were talking about me, so that’s pretty much the same thing.” Patty sticks her tongue out.

-

“What happened to my mom? Who was she?” Vergil’s gaze flicks away. Guilt passes over his face and he keeps cleaning without giving an answer. “Hey, you can’t just ignore me. I asked you a question-” Nero objects. “I can, and I will.” Vergil holds out the sauce pan “That is a topic for another time, Nero.” “Another time? Seriously?” Nero scowls as he uses a bit more force than needed to dry the pan “You’re gonna dare say that to me after years of this? I don’t even know what her name was.” Vergil pauses washing the dishes, resting his hands on the edges of the sink.

-

Thank you for letting me go insane and giving me a chance to share with you some Patty Propaganda! I had to seriously dig around and be careful with what I show since there's quite a few parts between the fic I'm currently uploading and this one, but I would be damned if I didn't give you something to look forward to. <3

[spaceagebachelormann]

Hi! Was wondering if I could request headcanons about what It'd be like to be best friends with either Percy Jackson or Leo Valdez? If possible gn or m reader, thank you!

BEING THEIR BEST FRIEND - PERCY JACKSON AND LEO VALDEZ

  ੈ✩‧₊˚ FANDOM: riordanverse

  ੈ✩‧₊˚ FORMAT: headcanon

  ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: swearing, angst because i can’t help myself, ttc spoilers, tlo spoilers, tlh spoilers, moa spoilers, hoh spoilers, boo spoilers, toa spoilers

masterlist || riordanverse masterlist || navigation

୨⎯ percy jackson⎯୧

oh my

so you guys probably met at camp half blood during his first year

he was NOT having a good day and you just came and sat beside him and started rambling about random shit

and he was like “okay….”

after that you randomly came up and started talking to eachother

and soon you were inseparable

you get invited on quests with him!!

they let you come as a 4th person for emotional support

he forces you to eat blue food

once you meet sally blue food is all you eat

speaking of sally she loves you

istg she’s atleast once referred to you as her other child

she’s really glad you came up to percy and started rambling about anything and everything because now he has lots of friends

do NOT blame yourself for what happened to bianca and zoë, even if it WAS your fault, or he will shove blue pancakes down your throat until you agree that it wasn’t your fault

also i have a headcanon that bianca and percy were best friends so you three have your own little trio until she dies

if you got hurt during the battle of manhattan (in the first series) my guy would be going insane

demanding to know what happened

anyway then he goes missing and now your going insane trying to figure out what happened

while he’s gone you become good friends with leo and come with them on their quest as a distraction to the fear you feel every minute of everyday of not knowing if your best friend is okay

when you guys find him you laugh while annabeth judo flips him

then judo flip him yourself

you and annabeth are a platonic power couple

BONUS 1:

Y/N, in a high voice, holding barbie: hey ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career!

Percy, in a deep voice, holding ken: nonsense, barbie. you’re staying home and having my kids

Annabeth: what the fuck are you guys doing?

Y/N: playing systemic oppression

i feel like if you’re part of the 7 he’d be a bit annoyed because he knows being part of a prophecy like that means you’re gonna get hurt a lot

but like he can’t stop you from coming along because you’re in a prophecy

it’s impossible (probably)

THE SLEEPLESS NIGHTS WHEN HE FALLS INTO TARTARUS WITH ANNABETH

YOUR BSF COULD BE DEAD

HOW ARE YOU EXPECTED NOT TO PANIC

when they get out okay you and him go for like a night in the city to catch up cause you’ve both been busy

it was… chaotic

so for dramatic affect let’s say gaea destroyed your house so you have no place to stay and he’s like “you can live with me!!!”

you do then lester shows up and you terrify him with your… well your everything basically

if percabeth has kids your probably the wine aunt/uncle/relative

you go to the same high school

and take almost all the same classes

HE WILL NEVER TAKE MATH OR ENGLISH EVER AGAIN

you randomly storm into eachothers classes to tell eachother the most random things

“PERCY LOOK I FOUND A FROG”

“THATS SO COOL WHATS ITS NAME”

the chaos that you two would cause accidentally

you buy recorders together and annoy EVERYONE

annabeth breaks them eventually

in conclusion: being percys best friend is: chaotic, fun, and also dangerous. he’s protective but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing because like he’d fight for you if anything were to happen

10/10 best friend would recommend

BONUS 2:

Percy: it’s dark in here

Y/N: don’t worry i got this

Y/N: *stomps feet*

Y/N: *sketchers light up*

୨⎯ leo valdez ⎯୧

for my own sake i’m gonna say you met at the boarding school

you, jason, leo, and piper were all VERYYYY good friends

you had your own little squad

you were closest with leo though because of your energy matching

anyway when the whole thing at the grand canyon happens you two are tryna work together to do whatever you can

spoiler warning: IT DIDNT WORK

you tried okay

when the chariot crashes at chb you’re both like “wtf”

you probably pointed out the thing above his head

when he learns he can do fire powers you guys have fires every week where you make s’mores and yell at people from afar

funniest duo

probably forbids you to do random stuff

if you’re part of the 7 hes probably happy because:

a) HES GOING ON A QUEST WITH HIS BESTFRIEND

b) you can do your pranks together and make everyone angry at you

so help me god if you fall into tartarus with percy and annabeth he will jump in after you

no he tries but jason doesn’t let him

if you don’t fall in but are restless and worried after he’ll stay by you the whole time

even though your kinda freaking him out he’s not gonna leave you like this

when they come back alright hes so happy to see your tense shoulders relax and you fall asleep easily that night

OH ALSO PLATONIC FLIRTING

you’d probably propose at restaurants to get free food

or if someone’s bothering you or him the other will come and flirt and act like your/his partner to scare them away

i’m pretty sure leo has canonically read the hunger games so he rants to you about it while sobbing his eyes out

WHEN HE HAS TO DIE IN BOO HE AVOIDS YOU FOR AWHILE AS TO NOT GET ATTACHED TO YOU FURTHER

when you find out what’s he’s gonna do it’s too late and he’s already gone 😨😨

another 6 restless months

you lose hope then your sibling comes in and says “HES BACK”

you judo flip his ass so hard

then you meet calypso and become friends with her too

she’s like you and leo’s gaurdian

BONUS 1:

*Y/N and Leo sitting together in jail*

Leo: so who should we call

Y/N: i’d call calypso but i feel safer in jail

comforting eachother after jason dies

okay back to the not sad stuff

BONUS 2:

Y/N: *holding perfume bottle* is this whiskey or perfume?

Leo: *chugs entire bottle*

Leo: it’s perfume

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Any thoughts you’d like to share on the other origins characters? Anything you like about them :)

Again, haven't played the game so these are my general thoughts based on a few romance compilations, YouTube Shorts, and memes. If anybody would like to rectify this, please Venmo me $500 so I can buy a PS5.

Shadowheart

Admittedly don't know that much about her other than the emos love her and she follows a goddess of loss. Looks like her arc is all about questioning institutions and her god, which I think is very sexy of her. If anybody has a quest line compilation video to recommend so I can see her whole story, please send it my way.

Lae'zel

The other origin character I admittedly don't know that much about. Still love an arc about questioning the system she was raised in and her god. Again, very sexy of her. Fish out of water stories are some of my favorites. Pair that with a hardened character learning to enjoy the gentler things in the world, and you've got yourself a banger. I should really look up her quest line at some point to get a full view of it.

Karlach

Best girl. Strong muscles, soft heart. I want her to be my best friend IRL. She deserves better and if there is any way to get a better ending that allows her to stay in Faerun, the studio needs to get on that ASAP. In the meantime, I'm going to stay in the part of the internet that says she's fine don't worry about it. I'm hugging her and there is nothing you can do about it.

Wyll

Sweet boy. A perfect boy who did nothing wrong ever. Yeah, yeah, sold his soul to a devil, but he had a good reason. Plus, he was seventeen. Nobody should let a seventeen year old make any decisions ever. I do need to find a good romance compilation. He needs more love. His friendship with Karlach is everything to me.

Gale

People really need to stop complaining about this man. I see too many being ragging on about how he's not over his ex and keeps bringing her up. "With you I forget my goddess?" That isn't him saying with you he forgets his ex, he's saying with you he forgets his god. How are we all not collectively swooning? And he's a nerd who will info dump about his passions? Sign me the fuck up. His comfy pjs and burnt out gifted kid swagger has bewitched me body and soul.

Astarion

Guys, you've seen my blog. I'm obsessed with him.

The moment I saw this asshole pop up on my dash, I knew I was going to love him. He was the reason I decided to finally look up a romance compilation once I realized my computer was too old to let me run the game. He's my type to the point of parody. Literally anybody who knows me, knows this guy would end up being my favorite.

His arc is about bodily autonomy and trauma. He's allowed to not be the perfect victim. He's angry and violent. He's selfish and terrified. And he is, sadly, one of the few characters who, as part of his arc, realizes he can say no to sex and he can be loved without it.

My point is, it should be no surprise to anybody that the ace community loves this man, and anybody complaining about it should shut up.

If you want to write your sexy Astarion fanfic, there is nothing stopping you. More power to you. I've seen the graveyard scene too. I recognize that regaining his autonomy and being able to have sex with somebody he cares about is part of the healing process.

At the same time, if writers want to interpret his arc is him realizing he never wants to have sex again, and that being okay; let them. We need this. There are so few characters like him out there.

At some point I do want to write an hour long video essay about his arc and how it's resonated with the ace community specifically.

Anyway, those are my general thoughts. I feel like I just swung a bat at a hornet's nest with that last bit, but what's life without a little danger?

[asukaskerian]

prompt 4 for moshang with the mood "incensed" would be hilarous i imagine

Mythology - Foretold by the gods - moshang

--

So he might have, maybe, at some point -- some late at night or maybe very early point -- tried to figure out an OC for Mobei-jun to ship w fuck. Dude was so perfect, it was a shame his dump truck ass and sequoia thighs remained unembraced. (Also the whole "he's so mysterious and never opens up and unveils his deep thoughts and tender feelings except for me" fantasy but never mind all that.)

He'd gone exactly as far as 'Meeting: why tf would he notice anyone. Dashing rescue? Why does he need a rescue he's too cool and basically untrappable anyway, what are they rescuing him from socializing with his cousins lmao???' on his notes before giving up on making it realistic. The next scribble was 'cuz i said so ok next'. 

There had been no 'next'. His battery had died and when he managed to get home and get his laptop plugged in it was time for another word vomit on the topic of Bing-ge's meat truncheon.

[Secret side-quest: Easter egg! 1/536 discovered. Keep going!][Category: "is it a headcanon if you didn't think it up with your upper head?" 1/413]

'System-bro, what the entire fuck!?!' Airplane screeched inside his heart of hearts; ass on the floor (bruising), clothes askew (from sleeping in them!!), and the most gorgeous, terrifying man he'd ever seen staring down at him from the bed they'd crashed into (Mobei-jun first, because unconscious, Airplane later, because idiot) the previous night.

Because he had expected being sneered at; being talked down to; being attacked on sight. Being haughtily ignored, after sufficient groveling at crotch level.

But his most perfect, most unattainable creation, that Himalayan peak made flesh, saying that --

--

The problem with Airplane was, he didn't trust people. He didn't trust them to share their feelings and decisions with him freely instead of leaving him reeling at yet another swerve of which he was merely collateral damage. He didn't trust them not to lie to themselves, or even know they were lying to themselves, so even if they did tell him what they thought or felt he assumed they were doing the polite 'the real reason is none of your business but telling you to fuck off is rude' thing at best.

So yes, his favorite game from childhood had been to pick someone in the crowd and tell himself stories about their life. This guy is a grandfather of seven and doesn't know the birthday of a single grandkid and his eldest son just pointed it out to him, but not even angrily which is worse because that's how low the bar he failed to clear was, that's why the fancy package and the gloomy expression. That girl just broke up -- she's so angry though -- he was fucking her sister. No wait, her nails are short, it was a girlfriend for sure; she fucked her brother, a double betrayal. It had evolved into telling himself stories about his classmates and his half-siblings and his parents, since they were never ever gonna bother to invite him to take a real glimpse inside, anyway. 

He was fully aware that statistically speaking he was probably wrong a lot of the time, but 1. coming up with coherent narratives was satisfying enough to smother the jealousy and loneliness and 2. as far as he was concerned it was true until proved otherwise, which was never.

But a guy who gave him nothing to work with. That was a challenge. That was fascinating. 

....

But a guy who greeted him by "You are to be my husband?" with a tone of dismay?!

What the fuck! What the fuck!! What the flying dick-flapping fuck!!!

He was so shocked, he forgot to kowtow. 

"You uh. My king?" He hadn't made the guy so above it all that he landed straight back into a a naive ingenue, right? "Just sleeping on the same mattress doesn't -- people don't have to be married to share--" 

The muggy air of the inn room went so cold so fast that condensation rolled cold drops down his back. 

(The effect didn't last; there was a haze in the air, briefly, and then a suffocating breeze from outside ruined the surprise air-con.)

"You will not speak to me like an idiot child," Mobei-jun-to-be rumbled threateningly, and then ruined the cool by continuing in that wtf vein. "My husband will show respect to his wife or his wife shall reign as a widow."

Holy shit, now Mobei-jun was the wife???!?!??? What? What! Airplane was dead. Again. For good. 

He stayed down there sitting on his ass, waiting for the world to make sense. It didn't happen. The man of his masochistic dreams had crossed his arms over his massive bara titties like a barricade and was now sulking up there like an offended wi-- no, he couldn't even think it. 

"My -- my king? It's only, ah, your humble servant doesn't... recall... getting married...?"

Eyes as blue as the afterimage of a lightning strike speared him through, metaphorically.

"Not yet. But we must." 

He let out a long sigh; and his face didn't twitch when he moved to aggravate his wound, but the way he stilled for a breath was telling. Shang not-yet-Qinghua winced in reflexive sympathy.

"There is a prophecy."

"... Ah?" A prophecy. About his king. That he hadn't put into the story. That he hadn't even scribbled into the margins or thought about. 'System?!'

[Yes, valued User?]

"There is a prophecy for each generation, and most of them don't matter," the ice demon using that shitty inn bed as his throne said with a bitter tone. "But the eleventh ruler of the Northern Desert will be heralded by his foretold spouse; that is how he is confirmed."

"Ohh," Airplane said intelligently and with characteristic eloquence. 

"'You will know them by these things," his king quoted sourly, "first, they will heal you; second, share your bed; third, offer their hand, and service, and their soul."

'Their soul! Their soul!! I was offering my sneakiness and maybe my dick, ah?! System!!! Who told you to mess up my creation with made-up prophecies?!'

[The easter egg category: "is it a headcanon if you didn't think it up with your upper head?" belongs to the third rung of canon : Word of God.]

But he hadn't told anyone--

But he'd written it down, he remembered now. 'Cuz i said so.'

Oh god. Oh immortals ascended before him. Oh little ancestors in both and either worlds. Someone fix this for him. "My king. Haha. My king, that is -- so vague! So vague?! How can there not be a dozen candidates with criteria so -- so stupid? And if the prophecy is common knowledge then people knew them in advance?! How were you not sabotaged right and left--"

...Oh no. He was gorgeous when he smirked like this, slow and feline, satisfied. My king, so unfair.

"This prince has long since made it a point not to sleep where others may catch him." A delicate pause. "He has also made it a point to return misplaced agents to his most obstinate siblings's chambers at a time his elders may not miss them."

"--Oh. Disqualifying them for trying to disqualify you -- so smart, my king!" For a moment, he had gotten enthused. But then he remembered that they were discussing his sudden non-canon matrimony, and then he started poking it for plot holes. "But -- just anybody can share your bed."

"The language is old, and clear. The prophecy speaks of the only person to ever share this king's bed."

... Hhghhhk.

That stare. So hard. Offended. Those cheekbones. So cutting. That nose, regal; that hair.

"My king," Airplane said as he climbed up to his feet, eyes trained on the floor and his knees and the things spread on the table and anything else at all. "Have you ever thought that the 'sharing a bed' section was metaphorical?" 

He met the demon's eyes then, incredulous and angry, buoyant with it. "You haven't even shown me your dick and you think I should be making recompense?! What the fuck! Passing out on the same shitty mattress doesn't mean getting deflowered! I didn't knock you up with a snowball ass egg, why the fuck should I--"

Oh, he was tall. Also wide. Especially wide. Flatten me daddy indeed. 

Oh, he was angry.

"It is not. Metaphorical. Though if all you need is to see my body--"

His hand landed on his belt. Shang eventually-Qinghua stopped breathing, body hot and bubbling with too much emotion--

It read like one of his waifu plots, the Joan of Arc types, unconquerable holy virgins except via the pressure of greater good.

A vague scrying over some random-ass kingdom, a little prophecy and welp! Nothing to it, just gotta fuck it out for the marital bed and then never again. At least you getting lawfully reamed has saved Bumfucknowhereistan.

'System. Demerit if I say hell no?'

[The bonus Mobei-jun questline remains optional, and brings User no penalties on opt-out.]

'Great.'

Like hell he was jumping into marriage because he liked some guy's face and didn't want to be bothered by geriatric busybodies tittering over his lack of wedlock. Who was he, his mother?

"I'll pass. Sorry, my king, at least I'm ditching you long before the altar?"

And with a sweep of his hand, he dumped all his things off the table and into his qiankun pouch, and was jumping out the window and doing a sick flip trick on his trusty borrowed blade. Airplane over and out, bro! 

Thanks for nothing. Now his spank bank was forever tainted.

--

Three days later he was still dealing with bursts of anger and anguish and other moronic emotions, which didn't help navigating his miraculous return to the sect ("I was so scared!" lost its impact if he broke a sneery judgmental Shixiong's ankle with a well-placed kick) or the medical peak's nosiness ("Who cares about the bruises, my biggest injury is my blue balls and broken heart, thanks!") or Shen not-quite-Quingqiu's scalpel eyes.

His king's eyes were prettier. 

His king was never going to be his king. Optional quest line. Yeah. He vaguely wondered how the System planned to make him betray the sect, then, who for, and then decided it wasn't his problem. Fuck it. He was sure it could do blackout poetry with his notes and pull out some contrived justification that would amount for half as much incentive as Mobei-jun's everything. 

His fierce determination, his fearlessness, his skill, his -- his body.

His body that was extremely too visible on Shang in-his-soul-Qinghua's disciple bed, shoulders draped in furs and bountiful meaty muscle on full frontal display.

"I will not," he growled low and quiet, "be discarded by my spouse."

"Hhg."

He had snow leopard rosettes on his flanks in dusky blue, secret patterns never appeared in any cover art Airplane had commissioned. 

[Secret side-quest: Easter egg! 2/536 discovered. Keep going!]

... Oh god, it turned out Shang Qinghua was exactly as stupid as Bing-ge's most ice-cold chaste wives. Because 'lie back and think of England?' Yeah, he was going to think of England and that dick.