#bc spite is!! really trying to hold up his end of things!!!

[cannibalisticskittles]

i've maintained for A While that it kills ward to have to be a passive observer for what's going on with spite and lucanis -- every time she asks about talking to spite to gain some understanding of him/the situation and maybe smooth things out, lucanis insists that spite can't be talked to or reasoned with ("he's 'spite,' not 'learning.' he doesn't listen to anyone")

she's really trying to be understanding because she knows that people have... different views on spirits outside of nevarra, and she's not the one that's possessed and she's sure there are complicated feelings going on there, but she still finds it intensely frustrating to have spent three decades learning to interact positively with spirits and then not be able to even try to help make this possession less contentious.

this exchange only reinforces that thought further. watcher attitudes not having such clear delineation of 'good' and 'bad' spirits to the point of not really finding 'demon' to be a useful term... oh it is eating her up to have to just go along with the idea that spite is a demon and thus there is automatically no chance to reason with him.

(the issue is that it's not spite that's resistant to talk but rather lucanis himself that's wary of talking things out, and it's rooted in All Those Complicated Traumas he hasn't let himself work through, but ward doesn't know that yet)

but. i swear to god at a certain point spite is going to just start wandering to wherever ward and emmrich and manfred are -- two watchers who welcome his presence, and a spirit of curiosity! much more interesting than staying cooped up in the pantry! -- and lucanis is going to wake up in emmrich's room (or, occasionally, on the chaise in ward's room, or at the kitchen table, or arranging books in the main room...) sometimes mid-conversation, even. if you fail to provide your spirit with enrichment it will seek out some of its own.

[codtrashsammy]

This is... love? (Simon Riley x Reader)

- SMUT SMUT SMUT - MDNI MDNI MDNI -

First time writing smut in a loooong time, so bare with me. Had an idea and ran with it. I hope you like it tho!

Simon Riley can fuck. But what about the first time you make love? Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You

Warnings: crying during sex (not the bad kind tho, promise), explicit sex, p in v, praise (heavy heavy like on god), gentle love making <3 bc our boy can fuck, but what about other stuff too?!

Of course, you’ve fucked. Simon has been your boyfriend for 3 years now, you’re definitely comfortable to explore that part of your relationship now.

Simon has had you bent over every piece of furniture in your flat, has had you in every bed in your house, in the shower, on the floor, a couple of times on the balcony even. He’s had you pinned to walls in sketchy bar bathrooms, he’s had you in the back of his nice looking truck, the bed of that same truck- fuckin’ everywhere. That’s all it’s been, it’s been fucking. Rough, fast- always fucking godly, of course, but it’s primal. Animalistic, and you love it- you truly do love it. But this time you want to do things different. You want to slow it down, you want to fucking relish in the man you’re lucky to call your own. You don’t want to fuck, you want to make love to him. Simon has always been… not exactly averse to your softer affections, as he’s always a very willing participant, but you sometimes notice he seems… overwhelmed. Like he can’t quite handle the raw, genuine emotion behind a soft, tender, lingering touch. His cheeks heat up, he gets this certain look in his eyes, and while he’s never been mean about it- he backs away from it. He shies away from it. 

You’ve tried talking to him about it- you’ve tried many, many times to bring it up to him. And yet the bastard always has a way to switch up the conversation, to change things around, to slip past the topic so easily- he can spin straw into gold with that mouth of his.

So, you’ve decided to take matters into your own hands.

You’re laying in bed, cuddled right up to him, your leg thrown over his hips and an arm thrown over his chest while you lay on your side, your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his arm. Simon’s hand idly plays with the ends of your hair, his arm wrapped around you, simply holding you to him as if to make sure you don’t slip away. 

Simon is seemingly lost in thought, eyes closed and body more or less relaxed- as relaxed as Simon can be when the man is always seemingly on alert to every little sound. 

“Hey, Si,” You murmur out, your fingers idly tracing random shapes against the fabric of his shirt. He hums to let you know he’s heard you, but otherwise doesn’t really react. Fuck, you love this man. You love every inch of him, everything about him. You even love that he always leaves the toilet seat up (you swear he does it out of spite) because you know you’d miss it if he wasn’t around to keep doing it.

“Can I try something?” You ask, tone soft and relaxed, casual. Not at all portraying the thoughts in your head, your secret little ‘mastermind’ plan. 

“Tha’s quite vague, ain’t it, love?” Simon grumbles out, voice low as if to match the atmosphere of simple peace and quiet. “Hmm…” You trail off, a playful smile growing on your face- not that he’s looking to see it, “I think it’s pretty simple. Either yes or no.” You quip with a nod, moving to lean up, resting your weight on your elbows so you can look down at him with a soft, gentle smile. And of course at feeling you move, his arm moves from around your shoulders to around your waist- always touching you, never wanting you far when he’s finally home. (You don’t realize home is you- but of course he’s never quite told you that). Simon’s eyes open at your movement, too. Pretty brown eyes, half lidded in his more-or-less relaxed state as he looks up to meet your gaze, his gaze soft in the way it only ever is for you- his mask resting along the nightstand by the bed. There if he needs it- but it’s rarely needed with you around. A warm light, easily able to lighten up even the darkest depths of his mind to keep his demons at bay.

“....yes?” Simon offers after a few moments of contemplation, a curious look in his own eyes as they scan over your face- looking for a hint of what possible fuckery you could be up to at this point. Your soft smile stretches out into a soft grin as you lean down, pressing your lips to Simon's and letting your eyes flutter shut. One of your hands come up, tracing softly up his chest, up his throat, along his jaw before settling to cup his cheek.

You can feel his breath hitch the slightest bit at the soft touch, the lingering touch. This is the kind of kiss that usually overwhelms him, but maybe he’s in a good mood tonight. Your thumb softly caresses his cheek while your tongues intertwine, and you can feel the moment Simon tries to speed it up.

You pull away, eyes still closed, your lips brushing against his as you speak, “No, no,”

And you promptly place your lips back against his own, not giving him time to start spitting his bullshit about how he’s going to make you see stars if you don’t stop teasing him- because that’s not the goal here. 

You shift your body, moving to straddle Simon's hips (a feat in its own right), keeping one hand cupping his cheek while the other moves to the hem of his shirt, slowly running over the skin above the waistband of his pajama pants, before delving under the fabric and feeling the softness of his tummy, touch so soft and gentle, so loving against his body.

Simon doesn’t know what to think, his own hands seeming to hesitate before they come to rest along your thighs, squeezing the fat there a bit roughly- but that’s okay, you can teach him. 

“Love your hands, Si,” You murmur as you finally pull away from the kiss, only to trail kisses down his jawline, slow and soft, occasionally nipping at the skin.

Simon let's out a grunt, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs before moving to cup your ass, pushing your body to force your clothed cunt to grind against his already hard cock, and a breathy moan leaves your lips from the stimulation- but damn it, you’re doing this your way this time.

“I’ll stop,” You warn, voice still soft, but there's… an edge to it for once, one stating that you really will.

A soft groan leaves Simon's lips, along with a scoff at the absolute audacity of you, “Love,” Simon says, in warning more than anything. 

“I don’t wanna hear it,” You’re quick to say, before leaning back to meet his pretty, brown-eyed gaze, your hands moving to lift his shirt which he eagerly enough helps with, throwing the fabric away and down to the floor like it was the very thing that killed his family.

…a bit much, but you can understand his eagerness.

“You’re so beautiful, Simon,” You murmur out, eyes filled with nothing but adoration as you trail your hands across the familiar expanse of his chest, fingers running through his chest hair, thumbs brushing over his nipples before trailing down his sides. Your palms run over the subtle softness of his belly, where you know there is muscle hidden underneath.

A hiss leaves Simon's lips, and you can feel his cock twitch from where you’re perched in his lap. “Bloody ‘ell, love, the fuck ya doin?” Simon mutters, hands moving to grab your hips.

“Jus’ be good for me, yeah?” You murmur out, a soft, adoring smile on your face as you finally look up to meet his gaze.

The sight alone is enough to make you pause slightly. He’s not like this when you’re fucking- and you don’t even have his dick in you yet! His cheeks are flushed, not from exertion, he’s just flustered, his bottom lip between his teeth, brows pinched together with pretty glossy eyes. Almost like he could cry- but not quite. 

“You’re always so good for me, Si,” You murmur, grinding your hips against his own and letting out another breathy moan at the feeling, his hands tightening their grip of your hips in response. Just one look and you can tell he’s overwhelmed already- or at the very least getting there. But he hasn’t once told you to stop- he’s simply tried speeding you up, which you have no interest in. Not this time.

You grab his hands, kissing each of his knuckles before slowly dragging them underneath your own shirt, placing his palms against your breasts, his thumbs already swiping at your nipples, at the already peaked buds there. “Always takin’ such good care of me, my love,” You praise, and you reward him with another slow grind, beginning to set such a slow, but lovely pace, just enough friction to make you want more- but that’s the goal. A slow build, no rush, no desperation, just… slow. Loving. Gentle. Tender. Simon visibly gulps, his hands squeezing the flesh of your tits with a groan before he’s tugging your shirt off and adding it to the growing pile on the floor. He tries to buck his hips, tries to get your movements to speed up- but you simply lift up, ending the contact altogether, and send him a pointed look.

“Do ya not want me to fuck ya, love? What’s all this then?” Simon says with a huff, eyes narrowing slightly as they meet your own. Anyone else would say he’s frustrated- and yeah, partly he is. But you know your Simon, you can see that glossiness to his eyes, can see the slightest twitch of his brow- he’s overwhelmed- he’s not sure how to handle this, the softness, the gentleness. Simon likes to say he can’t be soft, can’t be gentle, can’t be loving. But it’s been 3 years with this man- you know he can. He just needs to be taught- it’s simply something he’s never had before, it’s not like he was born with the knowledge. “No,” You answer with a pleased, breathy sigh, resting your hips back against his own and beginning that slow grind once more, feeling his cock twitch at the action. “Don’t wanna fuck, Si. Jus’ be good for me, baby. Jus’ sit here, look pretty for me. Always so good for me. Jus’ let me love you, sweet boy,” You murmur out, eyes meeting his own and holding their gaze.

You trail your hands down his arms along his shoulders and collar bones, quite literally loving every inch of his skin.

Simon’s cheeks get hotter, the look he gives you is entirely overwhelmed, spooked even. Like the thought of being loved is absolutely horrifying alone.

“Be good? Kinda kinky, innit?” Simon mumbles out in response, looking at you with a quirked brow.

But you don’t stop. And he doesn’t stop you.

Clothes continue to fly off, positions change, but somehow you manage to remain in full control for once. And he lets you. Sure, you have to correct him at times, have to remind him to slow down, all with soft smiles and gentle praise- and he eats it up like a starving hound.

Even now, as moans and breathy praise leaves your lips, Simon being vocal, a rarity on it’s own, at least to this extent.

“Feel s’ good around me, love, fuck, so good,” He fucking babbles, his cock dragging along the walls of your drooling cunt at a slow, but steady pace. You’re underneath him now- stereotypical missionary- but it’s divine.

You pull Simon’s head down, pressing his forehead against your own, your legs wrapped loosely around his hips as his cock drags deliciously over all those sweet spots inside, the soft mound above his cock pressing against your clit with every. Single. Thrust.

It’s a slow build up, so slow, and while he focuses on clenching his fists into the sheets above your head, resting on his elbows on either side of it, you focus on touching him, praising him.

“Always so good to me, baby,” You practically purr the words.

“I love you so much, Si, so much,” You say, breathless as your back arches, forehead pressed to his and eyes closed in bliss of the slow building pleasure.

“Like you were made jus’ for me, sweet boy,” Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, one of them tangling in his hair.

“Love how you make me feel, Simon,” You moan out, legs tightening their grip around his hips.

If your eyes weren’t closed, you’d see how Simon is looking at you right now. Simon is looking at you like you’re a fucking goddess… but the vision is blurry, from the pure overwhelming, unshed tears in his eyes. God, he’s pathetic, isn’t he? Crying? During sex? But he can’t even entertain the thought- thoughtful praise continuing to spill from your lips as he continues his slow, languid, deep thrusts. 

He focuses on the feeling, on the way your words are soothing parts of him he didn’t care to recognize were broken, he focuses on the way your hands trail across his skin so fucking lovingly- as if he’s actually worth something. As if he’s someone and not a monster. As if he doesn’t have hundreds of lives taken by the very hands you praise for touching you.

No- no, none of that matters right now, as for the first time in his fucking life Simon Riley doesn’t fuck- he makes love. 

“God- g-gonna make me cum, Simon- fuck- love the way you make me cum-” You whimper out, back arching into him and fuck, Simon can’t take it anymore.

Simon doesn’t know what to think. Sure, the pleasure is mind-numbing, your pussy always feels so fucking good when it’s wrapped around his cock like this, but it’s damn near tripled by the pure feelings you’re forcing him to feel. The way his chest burns, but it’s so good- he can fucking feel the love you have for him, the way you hold him in your heart, the way you think of him as though he put the very stars in the sky for you and you alone. And he would- fuck he absolutely would. He’d give you the world should you ask for it- fuck he loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

He doesn’t speed up- he wants the slower build up, too, doesn’t want to rush it, but he’s going to shatter if more praise leaves your lips so he presses down, slotting his mouth against your own, a minor distraction really.

You can feel the wetness to his cheeks.

You know it’s not sweat.

Your hands move to cup his cheeks so softly, so lovingly, so gently. You moan into his mouth as the pleasure builds until that band finally fucking snaps, and you’re on cloud nine.

Simon buries his head in the crook of your neck, his hot, thick cum shooting ropes into you as your cunt squeezes his cock like a vice, truly milking him for all he’s worth.

You’re both panting, but Simon's head stays hidden- you know why, you can feel the tears against your neck, but you don’t say anything.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you come down from your high, nuzzling your cheek against the top of his head.

“Love you so much,” You whisper out, running a hand through his hair, still slightly breathless.

You can feel Simon place the softest kiss to your neck, arms squeezing you almost too tightly, but you don’t say anything. 

You know your Simon. He’s not a monster. He’s not a killing machine. He’s a man- your man. Simon’s not unlovable, he’s not broken. He’s not stupid for simply not knowing. He’s not stupid for simply needing to be taught.

And you love him. Gods, do you love him. You’ll teach him. You’ll teach him it’s okay, he’s safe here, in your arms. He’s safe to love, to cry, to breakdown, he’s safe to get the very things he’s never had- and you’ll give them willingly.

You don’t know how long you stay like that. His now soft cock still buried in your cunt, his tears have subsided awhile ago, but he’s still unwilling to move from his spot- not that you’re complaining. 

It’s so quiet you barely even hear it, but fuck, you’re so glad you did.

“Love ya,” Simon mumbles against your skin, his voice so quiet, hoarse and rough. But so very soft, so very gentle. Yeah. Simon Riley can fuck like a god. But Simon Riley is learning how to love you fully, how to make love to you fully- and he wouldn’t change a thing. Neither would you.

[kisses4kaia]

god college!luke makes my emotions go haywire 😡😩 i’d honestly start dating someone else to spite him

you know what anon. ima need you to claim an emoji bc ur thoughts are TOO GOOD (also thank u sm for 1.5k💋)

so we’ve discussed previously that luke castellan does not get jealous easily.

however.

he never thought you would go this far. sure, you had danced on other guys at parties to get a rise out of him, maybe flirted here and there in front of him, but never this.

getting into a relationship—a serious relationship—with his frat brother? that was a new low. so what if he’d purposefully lead other girls into gross bathrooms at bar outings so you would see? this was uncalled for. how dare you?

so naturally, at your new boyfriend’s birthday party, when you’re sitting on his lap, helping him unwrap your present of a jean-paul gaultier cologne he’d wanted, luke—in classic luke fashion—thought this would be his chance. your sorority sister, drunk off of her wits—bless her heart—came up to you and whispered some slurred imperative about how you needed to get to ‘the square’.

your eyebrows furrowed at her as her eyebrows raised, questioning the significance of ‘the square’ and why the man who prompted her to ask chose there. you said no words, excusing yourself after finding her a water and alka seltzer.

“you really couldn’t help yourself, huh?” are the first words you say to luke, button up shirt open and lying on his back on the false grass. “me? you’re one to talk, sweetheart,” you rolled your eyes at his use of the nickname, crossing your arms as you stand over him.

beneath the twilight, your exposed shoulder skin glistened like the moon, just a sliver of it visible in the northern night sky. luke had obviously had something to drink or smoke, or both, because he slurred his words as he patted the turf next to him. “sit down. c’mon, like the good ol’ days,”

‘the square’ was a small patch of land in the middle area between his frat’s and your sorority’s backyards. it was insignificant to most everybody else, but you and luke had claimed it as yours on drizzly nights like these, when the owl called and adolescence snored. it didn’t even hold sexual reminiscences, for each night you spent on the square was spent just talking. he would gloat about some things he did over the summer, interrogate you on your sex life, laugh at your offense and crack bad jokes. he was the worst person to spend valuable time with, but you returned every night, nonetheless.

“i’m surprised, castellan. been here a full sixty seconds and you haven’t tried to fuck me,” you remained standing over his lax body, crossing your arms over your chest. “do you want me to try to fuck you? because i’m down,” he looks up at you with that smile of his. that toothy, million dollar, smile that reassures whomever it is on the receiving end that everything is okay and there’s not a thing to worry about.

you snort, giving in and sitting down. luke pulls you into his lap before your butt can even hit the cool grass, eliciting a yelp from you. his lips press against your shoulder, strong, warm arms wrap around your waist and you can’t help but melt into the body beneath you. “luke,” your voice is meant to be a warning, supposed to remind him and yourself that you belong to another and this was not right, but he did nothing except for hold you tighter and smile against your skin.

“he doesn’t make you feel like i do.” he spoke the words out of your mind, the voice of truth you swallowed down with a knowing conscience that it would rise to the surface eventually. this wasn’t what you wanted. your single goal wasn’t to make luke jealous, it wasn’t even to show him what he was missing. you just wanted it to be different. you wanted somebody to take you seriously enough to call you theirs.

but anybody who did wasn’t him.

“luke,” this time, you weren’t trying to ward off anything. this time, you were welcoming him and all his invasive, rude, luke-like, traits and the pain you knew would come with letting him in once more. “i know, baby, i know.” he said no further words before flipping the pair of you over and letting your back onto the ground. you focused on none else other than the feeling of his lips finally landing on yours, the trace of his fingers across your denim skirt’s hem. “can i?” luke’s fingers dipped past the fabric, drawing swirls on your skin. “mhm, yeah,” your smile is audible and spreads to luke’s lips.

if there was one thing luke always did, it was worship you. this time was no different. his lips were everywhere, and when they weren’t pecking kisses all over you, he was breathing praises like you were a mortal saint against your skin. and when he entered you, he fucked you like he couldn’t believe he got the chance to feel you again. but he knew what the outcome of this would be; of course he did.

you didn’t know him as a particularly selfish lover, but the way he chased his high, rutting his hips against yours to the point of overwhelmed stuttering suggested that to be true.

and when it was all said and done and the past hung in the air like a wonder of the world, luke stood and looked down at you like you previously did him.

“break up with him.”

“why?”

“you know why.”

there was no denying that, so you did none else than nod.

“yeah. i do.”

[feral4fiktion]

I just have so many thoughts about this date, I need to expel them.

1. He CAN'T "Just try it". You even say in a later option he can't eat. Also, he's smelled coffee before. We know this bc he always says LUCANIS smells like coffee. Which leads to point 2.

2. The sheer disappointment in his voice that Lucanis got him something he's been smelling on a daily basis for weeks already KILLS me every time, but in a funny way. He's not MAD, just disappointed bc he probably thought he was getting out to try something new, just to get more of the same, but hey...he's out so it's not worth a fight. Leading to point 3

3. This shows so much growth for Spite that he's not trying to be Spiteful that Lucanis didn't get him something/do something he wanted. If this had happened right after the Ossuary Spite would be spilling the cup /screaming in his ear that this isn't what he wants. I could go on and on about how sweet his "character growth is" especially how it's tied directly to his human counterpart.

4. This is the first time outside of the Lighthouse Lucanis isn't wearing armor. He's grown a trust in the Crows of his city to protect their First Talon, whether bc of being First Talon or bc he has learned to trust others bc of Rook or the Veilguard.

5. As sweet as the whole conversation is, I'm sorry, but the way he hovers over Rook at the end creeps me out every time, and I hate that's the last real moment I get of him in game besides his comments before the final battle. Like he's been great so far, I expected like a hand hold or at most a knuckle-kiss. Instead he got up to hover...just felt awkward to me. Which leads to 6.

6. IM SO HAPPY HE DOESNT GO OVERVOARD ON PDA. I know it's controversial, but even without armor on Lucanis Dellamorte is a guarded person who's barely come to grips with being in a relationship after dreaming of one for years. Throw in the demisexuality, and like I mentioned before, a quick hand-kiss feels like the most intimate thing he COULD EVER DO in public. And that's beautiful to me. Cuz that felt like they really thought out his character (which i already knew they did).

Just some thoughts I've needed to put somewhere. Might flesh out or edit later.

[catscidr]

I think we have all seen the "Argenti thinks the Reader is Idrila" stuff on here. But what if the reader actually is Idrila? So I wanted to request Argenti/Idrila!Reader (gn or afab reader) headcanons or a oneshot where Idrila, who has taken on a mortal identity after [Insert tragic event here], and meets Argenti. They develop feelings for each other, Argenti finds out she is Idrila, they end up dating. (Maybe or maybe not in that specific order) I thought maybe after protecting her followers from Nanook she disappeared to ensure Nanook doesn't target them anymore? That part isn't as important so feel free to add whatever backstory you think fits^^ Thank you in advance, I really like your writing!

NONNIE omg im booting up star rail rn to stare at him lovingly. also i changed the scenario a smidge so reader is her own person while also being idrila? if that makes sense......?? yeah. also bc otherwise id be writing ten thousand words n i didnt want ur ask to grow dusty in my inbox d(;∀;d) but tysm for the prompt i couldn’t stop thinking about it ueue. also hey gang peep me trying to make my blog look more coherent n nicer looking. am i doin it ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: a smidge of amnesia and soulmate trope (it’s not that bad, trust), fluff, love at first sight (does that even count in this scenario....), argenti and reader are dancing around the topic a lot bc argenti is a gentleman and doesn’t want to pressure her to talk. blurbs to set up the plot + a fic after them hehe. not proofread, writer’s block is killing me  includes: fem reader (he refers to reader as "my lady"), argenti, natasha, luocha is kinda there wc: 2,3k

-ˋˏ You’d go to Natasha’s clinic at least once every other day because you always had the worst migraines. To the point where you almost got beat up by a Flamespawn one time when you were clearing out calyxes (thankfully there was a Silvermane guard patrolling the area, otherwise you would’ve been charred). The doctor always says the same thing; “Stop looking for fights so often”, “Let your body rest”, “I can’t prescribe you antibiotics”, and your favorite, “Stop slamming my door open I can’t do anything about your headaches”. She was a good friend, but whenever she repeated how she couldn’t be of any help to your predicament, you’d wish you could just take that glass vial hanging from her outfit and chuck it far, far away out of spite. 

-ˋˏ Obviously it wasn’t her fault- she'd done everything she could. Natasha even had you undergo the Underworld’s equivalent of an MRI scan because of how frequently you would visit her, insisting that something was wrong. The symptoms consisted of forgetting important things too often, feeling a foreign buzz in your limbs and brain, having a sudden burst of elemental energy come out of your attacks and a myriad of benign but annoying, irritating signs that something was up with you. 

-ˋˏ It became more of a chore than anything to leave your room. Some days you felt fine, but then when you’d go out again and beat up wave after wave of enemies in Caverns of Corrosion you would keel over, clutching your head while vague images of what could only be described as a fever dream ran through your mind. 

-ˋˏ You decided to leave the Underworld for some time- considering your absence like some sort of “vacation”. You heard of a wandering doctor (and merchant, apparently) by the name of Luocha and, from the people that crossed paths with him, it seemed like he was extraordinary at his job. A trek to the Xianzhou Luofu would be a long one, but after weighing your options you thought you’d give it a try (it was worth it if it meant you’d stop waking up at ungodly hours, holding your head in your hands while hoping, praying that the pain stops.) 

-ˋˏ You (somehow) made your way to the Xianzhou Luofu from Jarilo-VI. As competent as you were however, being stranded on a foreign planet with no map nor local to guide you was... a challenge. In retrospect, maybe you should’ve gotten in contact with that Luocha doctor and had him come to Belobog instead of you going to him since, well, he was a traveling merchant. Going from planet to planet is what he does (you assume). 

✧✧✧ 

If you had read up more on general information about the Luofu you would have been aware of how many enemies were roaming around the docking area. But you didn’t. So, unbeknownst to you, a rogue mara-struck soldier was on your tail, trying to sneak up to you to snag the goods you hid in your bag (which were basically just different types of painkillers and sustenance that bodes well on an upset stomach. He doesn’t know that though.) 

Your head was throbbing; ever since you set foot on the planet, your physical health had slowly dropped down to levels you wouldn’t be enduring if it wasn’t for the promise of a competent doctor once you get to the main city. Painkillers weren’t working, your feet hurt and to make matters worse, you felt the familiar lack of something in your head. It was so bad to the point where you had to have a tangible mark somewhere to remind you that you did, in fact, just take something for your headache and if you took two more painkillers, your body wouldn’t agree with your decision. It was a struggle even remembering what you did five minutes ago, no way were you going to be in top shape, beating up every enemy crossing your way. 

Clouds began covering the bright sun, casting shadows over the desolate, geometric area. You huff, irritated that, from the looks of it, you won’t be able to find a cozy place to set up camp. Though sleeping on a ground made of primarily iron and steel was considerably less nerve-wracking than sleeping on the mushy, cold, dirty ground of Jarilo-VI. So, with a pout aimed at no one in particular, you find some place that you deemed decent enough to set your humble tent. It wasn’t often that adventurers slept outside of safe zones, however with your condition you couldn’t afford to miss out on some rest and possibly get even more lost than you already are. 

You set your heavy backpack down, rolling your shoulders to soothe the ache in your muscles from carrying something so bulky. As you ruffle through your belongings, you open a bottled soda and take a swift gulp, sighing contentedly at the pleasant taste on your tongue. Now that you were sat and could rest your bones (until you started setting up your tent, at least), your ears were able to pick up on some not-so-distant footsteps. 

There’s no time for you to react; the mara-struck soldier that had been following you lunges at you, aiming for your bag. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to yell, but before any sound can leave your mouth, a long, red and gold spear pierces the ground between you and the rabid man, making you yelp in surprise. You scurry as far back as you can in your current state; however, the soldier doesn’t have time to take advantage of your weakened stature. The owner of the spear lodges himself before your shaking figure and the mara-struck, yanking his spear out of the ground with impressive elegance, and summons an array of thorny vines to catch your assailant. 

It takes little to no effort for the seasoned fighter to take down the mara-struck as he swings his weapon, swiftly knocking the blunt end on the soldier’s plexus, knocking the wind out of him. A strangled scream leaves his throat as he scampers away, leaving your belongings safe with you and the strange red-haired man. He lowers his spear, careful to keep the sharp edge far from you, and turns around to face you properly. His brows raise a smidge for a split second before he composes himself and bows before you, the action short and curt.  

“It would have been a shame to lose a beauty such as yourself,” he says smoothly, straightening his back to look down at you with a warm smile. He stretches his hand out, a polite offer to help you stand up, as he continues speaking. “My name is Argenti, I belong to the Knights of Beauty. What might you be doing so far away from civilization, dear...?” he trails off, waiting for you to introduce yourself. 

You were in a state of shock, your mind still processing what had happened in such a short amount of time, that you failed to notice the lack of pain at the back of your head. As you meekly tell him your name, you hold onto his hand to help yourself up- as soon as his armored glove comes in contact with your hand something flashes in your mind; too quick to allow you to think about it too much, or to recognize what you saw for a millisecond. 

“So far away from civilization... do you know how to get to the city?” you ask as you feel a glimmer of hope spark in you. His words were refreshing, probably the best thing someone has ever said to you in the past month. He nods, reaching into his pocket to fish out a blue handkerchief embroidered with a delicate gold trim. Argenti hands it over to you and you gratefully take it, blotting the sweat and... dust off of your face. 

“I have made my way around the Luofu for long enough to show someone the way,” he says kindly. “Besides, even if I didn’t, I would still offer to accompany you through your trek. It is my duty as a Knight of Beauty, for I must uphold chivalry and distinguished manners, in the name of the Goddess guiding me.” His words resonate within you, making you beam, nodding in understanding. 

Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the knight. As you hand his handkerchief back, he smiles at you and gestures to your bag. “What brings you so far from your homeworld, my lady?” Argenti asks gently, though a glimmer of doubt swirls in his sparkling, verdant eyes. The question makes you pause, a memory flashing in your mind too suddenly for you to know what it meant. Although, from what you could tell, you knew you could trust him with what troubled you somehow. 

“Ah, it’s a long story,” you start sheepishly, “I’ve been having these incredibly painful migraines recently. And sometimes I feel like my memory is fading too quickly for what would be considered normal,” you say, trailing off slightly at the end. “I’m looking for a healer, a doctor by the name of Luocha...?” 

Somehow, the doctor was currently the least of your worries. You’d never felt so refreshed before, at least not that you could remember; simply being in Argenti’s presence seemed to be enough to make your aches disappear like a starskiff smoothly gliding through a cloudless sky. 

“I’ve seen the man only a handful of times,” Argenti mutters aloud, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I can do my best to guide you to him, but if I may... you don’t seem to be injured?” the knight says, his voice trailing off into a questioning tone despite the observation. You shake your head, wondering how you should explain your predicament to the man. 

“Like I said, it’s a long story,” you say again, shrugging sheepishly. You wondered if you should even go into the nitty gritty- he could always just be making small talk to help you get comfortable or something. Sensing your unease, he changes the spotlight to him instead. 

“There’s no need to delve into details if you wish to keep them secret,” he says with a kind smile, bending down to take ahold of your hand- gently pressing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand. Red flushes your ears immediately, words caught in your throat at the sight of his hair cascading over his shoulders, a beautiful contrast from the gold and silver armor glittering in what was left of the sunlight. 

“As for myself, like I mentioned earlier, I am a Knight of Beauty. I’m on a quest to find my dear Goddess Idrila once more, for I need to pay my respects to them after they saved me from a particularly grim fate.” His words echoed in your mind, your brows knitting together as you felt what could only be described as a cold bucket of water being dunked on your head. “I-Idrila?” you parrot, your voice coming out as a choked noise. Argenti perks up, the hand that had been softly holding onto yours now holding it with a firmer grip, his other hand joining it. 

“Yes, Idrila. Have you ever heard of them? Or...” he trails off, looking deep into your eyes expectantly, almost as if he knew something you didn’t. His eyes seemed to suck you in, bringing a comfortable wave of warmth over you, making you yearn for something. 

“I...” you begin, your gaze falling down to look at your feet. As you thought long and hard about what you wanted to say, what you tried to remember, you slowly look over to his spear, lying flat on the ground- long forgotten since the fight earlier. As if a lightbulb went off above your head, you perk up just as he did, and look at him, beaming. The words were caught in your throat; there was so much you wanted to say, to declare, to do in this moment of clarity, but with how fast your mind was running to catch you up on the current events of your life it was a struggle. 

“Argenti,” you murmur, the name rolling off your tongue smoothly, as you realized seeing the traveling merchant was no longer required. Though the road might have been arduous, and you may have almost lost your mind in the process, being with Argenti suddenly made everything make sense. That’s why your migraines mysteriously disappeared as soon as you were in the knight’s presence, that’s why you had gaps in your memory, that’s why you were freakishly powerful... at convenient times.  

Everything clicked into place. 

The both of you share a pregnant pause, eyes locked together as the world seemed to come to a stop around you. If it were possible, you’re sure there would be delicate, silky rose petals floating around your figures, suspended in the air. You glance down at his lips, and for the first time, make a decision with a clear head. 

His lips felt smooth against yours, the faint taste of vanilla mixed with roses transferring to your own lips. The kiss almost felt like it could be the result of a symbiotic relationship; now that you had Argenti, or at least had him by your side once again, you didn’t think you’d be able to continue on without him. 

[cheegu3]

Heloo may I request a enhypen reaction when y/n killed themselves and left a note saying "this is all your fault"

Sorry if this makes you uncomfy

oh not at all, I was only on the fence about writing this bc idk if talking about this topic is allowed on tumblr, but I hope u didn’t feel a lot of anxiety when sending in this ask 😭 it is a little short so sorry abt that :c some of the notes are a bit different too to switch it up!

tw / trigger warning: yandere, dark themes, depression, suicide, self-harm, sad asf, cursing, violence, blood, suicide-note, vomiting, gun

pls do not read if this triggers or offends you or if you're struggling !!

Yandere!Enhypen - reaction to you unaliving yourself

Jungwon

He didn't know how to react when he found you dead. No tears fell down his face as he looked for a pulse, clutching your cold hand in his.

When he spotted a note lying a few meters away, a heavy sigh left his lips and he gave you a pained look.

' This is all because of you. If only you'd treated me like a normal boyfriend would, maybe we could've been soulmates. I hope you feel pain for the rest of your life. '

The more Jungwon stared at the note, blaming him for all of your pain and problems; the more he felt like he had to fight to hold back the tears that were itching to fall.

At the same time, he found a strange anger bubbling inside of him. Not only did you - the love of his life, leave him in this way but you had to wish him pain in your last breath too?

He became blinded by anger. The hand that was holding the note clenched and the paper crumbled under it.

He will try to stay alive just to spite you. Trying his best to move on and get happy, maybe fall in love again and find a family just so he could get his revenge; as you watched from above and realized you meant nothing to him.

But Jungwon never got over you, not really.

Heeseung

He got angry immediately, cussing you out and almost getting the urge to hit you. Instead, he took his anger out on a mirror and felt some sense of relief when he started to bleed.

He blamed himself of course. He had been wrong about how you were feeling, even though he often prided himself on having been able to read you like an open book.

He didn't notice your spark slowly dying out; the more he got angry the more he got jealous, and then the more you were punished for the smallest things.

It got to a point where you couldn't even live in the moment and enjoy the short times when he was a sweet boyfriend again, because you were always scared of what would tick him off a few seconds later.

' I'm sorry, Hee. I was so tired of fighting. I love you,

y/n. '

His vision blurred as tears filled his eyes. He could only manage to hold them back for a few seconds before he doubled over and sobbed loudly.

The room filled with loud wails of pain that would even make angels cry. Anyone that heard it would know just how much he loved you.

Heeseung clutched his chest right where his aching heart felt like it was being ripped out of him. '' I'm sorry, I'm so sorry baby, '' he kept whispering until he was tired of crying for hours and it turned into shaky murmurs.

He fell asleep, hoping it would be eternal, with your body in his arms; dried tears on his cheeks being replaced by new ones, as even in his sleep he couldn't escape seeing his lover.

Jay

It was the worst phone call he had ever received. He didn't know how to react after it ended, only staring blankly into the distance as his thoughts went crazy.

He needed to see you with his own eyes to believe it so he rushed home. His stomach sank when he spotted the ambulance. Quickly he pushed through the people to get to you.

But when he reached you and saw your lifeless body on the stretcher, he didn't know what to do yet again. A stupid voice inside him told him he should keep his cool in front of all the spectators, even while the love of his life lay dead in front of him.

Did he want to cry, scream, or hold you?

He lowered his eyes to get the image of you like that out of his head. Still in shock, he went inside, locked the doors, and shut the windows' blinds.

He stayed like that for days; barely eating, seeing the sun, or getting out of bed. No matter how bad his depression got and how the light at the end of the tunnel seemed to get further and further away, he still refused to cry.

There was a reason. Your note.

He had seen it while cleaning his house that day he got home. Not wanting to let his thoughts get to him, he started sterilizing and cleaning the whole house. When he then got to the bedroom, a small green note poked out underneath the bed.

He crouched and was about to throw it away until he turned it over and read the first and only line.

' this is all your fault '

And after that, he'd never be the same man again. Most days he wondered if he was even human anymore, he didn't feel anything.

Jake

'' Y/n! I'm home. ''

Jake's face scrunched up as he pouted when you didn't come running to him like usual. Something felt wrong, a bad feeling brewed in his stomach, growing in size the more he moved around in his apartment.

He went further in, peeking around the corners but not calling out for you anymore. It felt better to explain the bad feeling by thinking you were doing something you weren't supposed to, rather than you being hurt; so he moved quietly so he could catch you in the act.

Inside the office, you were nowhere to be found. He guessed you had snuck in there to write to your loved ones or maybe snoop through his stuff. Defeatedly he sighed and moved on, eyes getting caught by the door to the bedroom being slightly open.

Jake stopped in his step and turned back.

'' Y/n? Are you in there? Come out please, I just want to talk, '' he tried, his voice coming out a lot more whiny and desperate than he'd planned.

But he got no response except for silence. His worry grew. One deep breath later he pushed the door open before he could change his mind.

It slowly creaked open, revealing the room little by little. He fell to his knees and gasped.

You were lying in a pool of blood. At first, he felt a surge of anger - who could've done this to you? Then, his attention drifted to the small folded note next to you, and his heart sank.

'' No, please don't say...'' he trailed off, hurrying to unwrap the paper with so much panic that he almost ripped it.

' I wanted to meet my friend one last time, that's all I asked for, but like always it was about what you wanted. We both know that this was all your fault. '

Overcome with despair and grief it wouldn't take long for Jake to join you. He couldn't stand being apart, and he'd find you wherever you were, even in death.

Sunghoon

He felt very angry at you, not himself. Yes, he had dared you to do it while the two of you were in the middle of a screaming match but he hadn't expected you to actually pick up a gun.

The image of you staring at him, tears in your eyes, and that look on your face, which was the last he'd see of you, would forever be etched in his mind.

He couldn't sleep at night. It was like it was burned into the back of his eyes too.

Once your body fell to the floor with a thud, his eyes widened and his lips parted. He knew you were gone without even having to check your pulse.

'' Do it, '' those were his last words to the one person he loved.

He felt sick suddenly, rushing to the bathroom to throw up everything and then some more.

In that bathroom he stayed for hours, just staring blankly at the tiles on the wall, not saying a word or moving an inch. After the sun started setting outside and the light caught his eyes, he finally got up and went to where he had last left you.

You hadn't moved. Sunghoon crouched down next to you and started digging in your pockets for your phone. Something sharp brushed against his palm.

He took it out and saw that it was a note. Unraveling it, he discovered it was a suicide note you must've written a long time ago. Had you always had it on you? Just in case.

' I hate you '

He clenched his fist around the paper, it broke. '' Weak, '' he whispered under his breath and got up.

It was a coping mechanism to place all the anger on you. God knows what he would've done if he started letting that transfer to himself. But, even the anger couldn't stop him from missing you - every single day.

Sunoo

He would blame himself immensely, not having room to be mad at you at all. All that he felt for you was pity and empathy. He tried putting himself in your shoes for the first time and it was a heartbreak he'd never experienced before.

He went to school that day, so excited to see you, only to feel horror as he pushed through the crowd that had formed curiously and saw your body there.

It felt like slow-motion when the wind made you turn and you made eye contact with him. Whispers spread like wildfire all around him, surrounding him completely.

Sunoo felt confused and scared, his eyes darted around anxiously and he tried slipping out. Someone pushed him back.

'' You did this! ''

His head snapped up. A girl, your friend, was standing on the table overlooking the whole classroom. Her eyes were red from crying and in her hand, she was holding something white.

' I'm sorry to do this here, but it's because of my boyfriend, he's controlling and an obsessive, crazy person. I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of him. I'm sorry, I love you '

His world fell apart in an instant. He had no idea you'd been feeling like that, why didn't you tell him? He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair as he came to a realization - you did, and he didn't listen.

He was finally allowed to push through the crowd and run away from the school which he'd never again return to. Tears streamed down his face the whole way home, and they didn't stop even as he reached it.

In his mind, all the ' what if-s ' played. What if he fixed himself and was less obsessive, would you have stayed then? What if he was less jealous, would you have loved him back? What if...what if.

Ni-ki

He tried distracting his mind by both rationalizing it to soften the blow, saying '' we probably weren't made for each other anyway '', and trying to go on dates with other girls.

However, every time he did so, he'd zone out and wish that it was you sitting across from him instead. He started daydreaming which brought a smile to his face until it dropped almost as suddenly as it had come when he heard her voice and realized it wasn't you.

They could never be you.

Suddenly he was angry at them, cursing and telling them to leave him alone and to never text him again.

Deep down he knew he'd never love anyone like you again, and you were actually meant for him; but he hated admitting it and to spare himself from more pain, might never admit it.

That was the thing, you were meant for him. Not anymore; you didn't exist anymore, because of him. He knew that now that his soulmate was gone forever, his bleak days would never be lit up by you again.

Just thinking of that smile, the only one that managed to get through his tough and cold exterior, made him feel like crying or punching something.

He then thought of the note, which he often did, and your body at the morgue because he hadn't come home quick enough to see you, and for that he was grateful; seeing you like that would've driven him to the edge.

The note, the one that read, ' I'm sorry, Riki. I tried, I really did. I love you, -y/n '

[ouatsnark]

I'm sorry I gotta say this real quick:

The showrunners' treatment of Graham was godawful and they did it purely because they had no way to spin it so Regina was secretly the victim of that scenario/could be made sympathetic in it. When it came to Graham she was a rapist, a captor, a horrible evil person. There is no making that right without some serious remorse and also probably fixing Graham's whole life which she can't do bc she fucking killed him. She raped a man she was forcing to work for her and then murdered him and no one ever mentioned it again or attempted to hold her accountable.

Also it's not like death was a dealbreaker and there's no reason to bring it up again bc they went to the Underworld! They could have had him there or even given him a nod by having Regina or Emma try to find him and find out that he had moved on and found peace and they didn't, almost certainly because like I said there was no way to make Regina the victim.

Instead they gave Regina an arc with her daddy where she was sososo sorry but it was already okay because Henry (y'know the guy who did nothing but support and uplift her and she killed him for it) already forgives her. And!! He says that actually he bears responsibility for having let her mother 'get in the way of who she really is' which by the way is fucking meaningless bc Cora wasn't around all that much while Regina was queen/trying to kill Snow White so most of that was all her.

Why the fuck would we waste an opportunity to actually redeem her by showing her, say, helping one of her victims find peace (possibly by reuniting with his wolf who she just kinda stole or getting to at least hear that someone fucking remembered he existed and cared about what happened to him) so that we could see one more 'poor Regina was so sad and lonely after she treated everyone like shit and started killing people en masse to spite a ten year old girl' episode? Who cares?

The sad thing is I'd probably like her if the writers didn't meatride her so fucking hard.

In fairness, Graham's death was early on and I fully believe at this point Regina was still going to be the "big bad" Emma was to defeat and should've gone away at the end of the season.

But yes, no way they would've reminded the audience in S5 about one of Regina's most grotesque crimes that effected Emma present day. There was no way they could bring that up while pretending they'd already told us (not shown) that they'd redeemed Regina.

[opal-owl-flight]

OKAY OKAY ITS SUPER SELF INDULGENT AND I AM CRINGE BUT I AM FREE!!!!

So imagine Mags in Totk trying to break Demise's curse (bc for the love of god Link and Zelda need a break) by wishing on the triforce but then he gets pulled into some other bullshit bc he altered reality so fundamentally

You know how the triforce shatters after someone who isnt balanced in the three virtues makes a wish?? Yeah that

And theres this other thing too.

Darkness will never rest, Demise's hatred probably really never ends. His spite held two poor souls to an endless reincarnation cycle but at least the land continues to survive each apocalyptic revival of that hatred.

There was *always* someone fated/powerful enough to stop it. A failsafe (albeit a cruel one). Its written in the very foundations of Hyrule.

With the two souls finally set free, whod be strong enough to stand up against that darkness anymore?

The interloper has to seek the two other pieces to fix this issue. But will he really reinstate the curse that so tormented his friends for eons?

Not to mention, hes an unfamiliar figure seeking the two other parts of the relic while holding the piece of power. To say that people are suspicuous of him is an understatement.

[trashbinbackyard]

no rookanis? smh my head. 1-10 for corrill n davrook

sike, its rookanis after all

Who is the most affectionate?

Merrill by a small margin, to an outsider by a large margin. The inner circle knows how reserved and intense Colter can be so even his shoulders relaxing and his face not doing a scowl is a sign of affection towards Merrill. 

Lucanis is reserved as all hell and quite frankly scared to show affection thanks to his upbringing (in the wigmaker job short story does say that he was tortured like any other crow so I’ll hold onto that piece of lore nugget and pretend the crows are are fearsome as they are in the three other games). Orananowen (I will be referring to her as Orana/Ora bc the full name is a mouthful) is just living her best life being a thistle, she’s constantly showering Lucanis is praise and physical affection whether he likes it or not (he does)

Big spoon/Little spoon?

Colter insists on being the big spoon, and Merrill is just such a holdable size compared to him so she fits into his arms so well. 

They switch. Orana loves being held but also recognizes that Lucanis needs to be held, even if he says he doesn’t. Also they’re the same height so its easy

Most common argument?

Merrill might get riled up about Colter's general disregard to people’s (who are not her or Bethany) wellbeing and lack of care when it comes to his title and power he holds in Kirkwall. Also Colter’s mabari slobbering on the bed when they’re trying to cuddle. Colter has issues with Merrill’s blood magic from time to time and she promises not to do it in front of him

During the events of the superblight it’s mostly Orana being snappy about Lucanis pulling away from her, and Lucanis being upset that she doesn’t quite understand the weight of the situation with him being an abomination (neither did the writers but it’s more severe in my head). After the events Orana is upset about Lucanis accepting the title of First Talon like “Really? After you told me that you never wanted this life????” being angry at the responsibilities he’s shoved onto himself because he simply felt obliged to. Lucanis would like Orana to spend more time in Treviso, but she wants to go back to the open seas. (In the end it either ends up with Ora frequently visiting or just straight up kidnapping him away, leaning towards the latter)

Favorite non-sexual activity?

Going on walks, the city, gardens, forests, anywhere Merrill wants to go (even trespassing if needed, Colter is her scary dog privilege). She does prefer the gardens and the wilds and Colter appreciates the time away from the city.

Cooking and baking together. Well more like Lucanis cooks/bakes while Orana has all sorts of input (she’ll make the drinks and gets to taste test everything)

Who is most likely to carry the other?

Merrill wouldn’t even try (although with her magic vines helping she might be able to pull it off but Colter won’t like it). Colter scoops Merrill up on many a-occasion, hauling her out of the Hanged Man, carrying her across puddles, up the stairs in his manor

It started when Ora dared him to act out a scene from a romance novel she knows he’s been reading in secret, and now she can’t get enough (Lucanis’ back has had enough so Spite pops in to help)

What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

Colter loves Merrill eyes, the elves do have such pretty eyes, and her delicate neck. Merrill is partial to his stubble and chest hair, elves don't have that so she gets to explore new sensory stuff

I feel Lucanis would appreciate Ora’s sea salt wavy hair and her flat nose bridge, and her vallaslin and other tattoos, he’s just a guy who strikes me as lost in the sauce once he allows himself to be. Ora’s favourite features of Lucanis is hair and beard, his moles (gives him character and targets for kisses), his deep brown eyes

What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Merrill starts getting more flustered around him, Colter starts melting and being even more tender with Merrill

Lucanis gets scared and shuts off in an effort he sees as protecting them both. Ora gets even more stubborn about sledgehammering down his personal walls (the more she does the more Lucanis tries to rebuild them and she smashes them down again and he builds them back up and she-). Only after some helpful input from Spite and a visit to Lucanis’ mind palace/prison he finally lets her in.

Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

They don’t do nicknames, that’s Varric’s schtick. Merrill calls Colter “ma vhennan”, or by his name. Colter calls Merrill “love” or her name (iirc Merrill doesn’t like Varric's nickname for her and Colter will pick that up and respect it)

Orana will call him Scruffy (Varric apparently would’ve called him tha so she co-opted it), Lucanis calls her Jingly, because she wears so much stolen gold it's practically a bell collar

Who worries the most?

Merrill, just generally about everything. About Colter she knows he can very much hold his own and survive all sorts of bullshit but it doesn’t really help when he gets into trouble often. Colter has the attitude of “no need fussing about things you don’t have control over”, but he does get a pang of anxiety when separated from Merrill

They’re both suffering from terminal worrywart syndrome. Lucanis about how he’s going to balance the demon and his title and his love life. Ora worries about Lucanis most of the time, she’s generally carefree but Lucanis makes her bite her nails, there’s so many people who want him dead

Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Colter in his devotion will make a mental mark of every like and dislike Merrill has, food order included

Lmao the game even has a pop up notification of “Lucanis remembered Rook’s drink order” (i wish I was joking), and his love language is food, so obviously him. Orana would have a hard time remembering every fancy dish Lucanis likes and would order with a dartboard

[thedawningofthehour]

Tbh I just love how Deep In The Shit Draxum and Galois are at this point with whatever the outcome of all of this is. I think, in a lot of stories where a main character is brainwashed and joins the bad guys, they always pull their punches in how long it lasts and what they do while they've switched sides. But here, not only has Draxum gotten Donnie/Galois to do some Heinous Shit (not only to his family once he figures all that shit out, but like. Yknow. War) but also??? The genuine emotional bond.

Like. In terms of long term damage and pain, the genuine care and rapport Draxum and Galois have is probably my favorite* part of DOTH because how do you 1) resolve the idea of someone who you think loves and cares about you and you have more in common with than almost anybody doing THAT to you and 2) how do you process that part of your life where things were undeniably good (and in some ways better) with the fact that it only came from pain and led you to do horrible things?? Every single twist in this story has me on the edge of my emotional seat Donnie is going to have psychological issues beyond comprehension when this is all done

*this is technically a lie because my real favorite thing about DOTH is your fantastic hidden city worldbuilding. Its become canon to me and also I could hear about how yokai society works forever. You really make it feel real in a way that really makes the story click. I also lump Draxums family under here bc they are legit fantastic break Bella out of jail so i may propose marriage

I very much dislike it when authors so clearly try to keep their precious darlings from doing anything problematic. Especially when they're trying to portray them as being morally grey or in the wrong, or even just showing poor judgement.

Katniss kills a civilian woman without hesitation to protect her squad. Zuko burns down Kyoshi village searching for the Avatar. Daenerys throws an entire region into chaos in her noble but naïve attempt to wipe out slavery. These are all characters we're supposed to like, that we generally do still like in spite of their problematic actions. (unless you're a Dany hater, in which case get off my blog and learn some reading comprehension) Their misdeeds give them depth, places to improve themselves and mature. That's what characters should be doing. If your protagonist keeps their hands clean the entire time, not only do they end up passive observers in their own story but it gives them no opportunity for growth. Daenerys learning from her ignorance and sculpting herself into a better ruler is not only a major component of her own story, but it's what sets her apart from the five kings. Avatar wouldn't be half of what it is without Zuko's redemption arc. And Katniss had to be that merciless, fatalistic Mockingjay to kill Coin-and killing Coin changes the meaning of the entire story.

The fucking world-building. I just watched a video today on world-building tips, and the guy doing the video essay used a Rubic's Cube as a metaphor for putting together all the different parts that make up a living, interesting fictional world and making them work together, with the disclaimer of DO NOT BUILD YOUR ENTIRE GODDAMN WORLD IN FULL DETAIL FOR THE LOVE OF GOD THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE YOU WILL DIE. And I felt that on an emotional level. I've been re-reading ASOIAF lately, and I'm starting to develop more sympathy for Germ taking 'checks notes' twelve years so far to write the next book. I think he's legit weighed down by Worldbuilder's Disease and now the story is too big for him to hold up. I very much enjoy the world-building, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't. But oh my god it is a well with no bottom and I am pressing my feet and shoulders against the side trying not to fall.

[awellboiledicicle]

First person to try drilling down on what Fido's deal is would be Gale, between adventuring and actually sleeping. He's limited to whatever books they can scrounge initially [as Fido is hoarding them to learn about the world they're now stuck in], but by the time they get to Baldur's Gate he's going to have some very specific queries outside of the whole Crown research thing.

First person to go "Maybe this is a warlock thing" is, naturally, Wyll. Because Fido is going to eldritch blast something in a panic and he's going to go "now hold on". Also because I imagine Mizora would think it was hilarious another warlock is making noise about his deal. They make some barbed comment to her, the magic flaring a bit, and she tuts at Wyll for consorting with 'that mean old octopus' behind her back like this. Leaves before explaining anything.

Astarion 100% believes they're lying about not knowing they're bound up with some apparently tentacled monster when it comes out. like. just thematically it feels like a thing one should know about. He's just saying that if HE had made a deal to get MAGIC INVULNERABILITY POWERS, then HE would have remembered that. They throw a handful of grass at him and he rolls his eyes.

Lae'zel still occasionally thwacks them with a random sword to see if their protection is still working. This is, she insists, a function of their friendship that she would bother doing a check at all. Deep down she just really appreciates their willingness to listen and learn from her, as well as their absolute unwillingness to take any shit from her. Thus the checking.

Shadowheart still thinks they're a little crazy, for different reasons. Initially it was because they insisted they had no idea elves were real, followed by being from 'earth', followed by their panic response being to yell insults at the enemy to make their brain explode. The warlock thing feels like they might have been lying about it--a skill they seem unnervingly good at in spite of their general honest streak--but honestly? Given how they keep tripping into being good to others, she wouldn't doubt them having been just given the ring by some sorcerer or something.

Halsin feels conflicted about Fido expressly because they have a very... dim view of nature being allowed to take its course. With people. They get along largely after Fido gets fed up and goes "you're ungodly old so you can handle sitting down and leveling with me here. I need you to understand that, where i come from, if someone looks at someone like me and says 'nature should take its course' that means 'i want you to not exist'. It means 'you are unnatural'. We're not having the same conversation when we talk about nature, here. I like the birds doing bird things and fish swimming and whatever. But sometimes nature is cruel and I am living proof that sometimes nature would destroy people and things that should exist." Basically they get along on principal but have initial complications bc Fido spent a lot of time as a chronically in pain child being told survival of the fittest wouldn't allow for them. As a queer kid being told they were unnatural. So on. So they don't actually have beef with him so much as a kneejerk reaction for a little plus the initial GODDAMNIT response when he can't help. His take on the warlock thing is largely being curious as to how that happens without ones knowledge.

Karlach meanwhile is just pissed that she can't hi-five them without it still hurting. Like their skin doesn't melt but they can still feel the sensation of heat and pressure, so it isn't pleasant. She also wants to know how one ends up in a warlock pact without knowing it because that feels like a pitfall to avoid.

Not pictured is the GOO checking in occasionally like it's reading the sunday paper like "oh they had a conversation about the nature of gods with Gale. Cute. Aww they're having cognitive dissonance about the nature of sentience after using speak with animals. Popped a man's head like a cherry. Shame, they could have interrogated that one."

[glassautomaton]

incomprehensible lightlament tagger here so I feel obligated to defend my honor.

I think for me it comes down to 1) a lot of the (especially earlier) senior staff writing kind of sucking objective ass but then having these brief flashes of the most intriguing shit you’ve ever seen in there. mediocre stories with a great deal of potential are like crack to me (at least when it comes to actually making fanwork) bc they get my braingears turning as to how to expand on them (+ of course the handful of fucking brilliant senior stuff tales hidden in the clutter that will fuck you up forever that work precisely bc of the notoriety of the characters theyre about and that, I suspect, were created by people who felt very similarly to me) and 2) I just. rlly like the foundation as a setting and like pretty much every goi-associated character the senior staff all ultimately offer some unique perspective on foundation doctrine; clef is interesting bc of his shitty self-loathing deflection complex motivated by his past on in the goc & the fact he doesnt even work here of his own accord (see: the vanguard side of the no return canon for some pretty cool recent writing on this), light is interesting bc of her determination to hold on to a veneer of morality despite the general fuckedness of everything which, given the prominence of her being in some way entangled with the o5s, can turn her downright hubristic in some tales (see: the new faces splintercanon on the resurrection hub for this). which isnt to say original characters cant be that but having these established fairly iconic characters can be a useful shortcut and with the sheer context of everything that already exists on these guys you can usually end up somewhere very interesting a lot quicker than if you were to build your own characters from the ground up.

I will say though I immensely respect the notion of just straight up not caring about any of the big name characters, I kind of envy you if I’m honest. I think like stroytelling enjoyer motivations aside part of the senior staff’s appeal does also stem from people especially in fandom being more willing to engage with stories that have characters they’re already emotionally attached to in them which, y’know, isn’t a sin, people like what they like, but I do think people miss out on some real bangers hidden on the wiki because of it. I recognize I am part of the problem here, but, yknow, I dont control what the brain attaches itself to.

anyway, cheers! sorry again about the lightlament, i will say that isnt normal youve just accidentally stumbled into a mutuals circle of people who are categorically not normal about dr light. spiders georg etc

I think I get what you’re trying to say here, and again, it’s largely similar to why I wanted to write Resurrection-family articles in the first place. There is a bit of a difference though: I read Resurrection when I was a lot younger, when it first came out. Back then I hadn’t really been as discerning or critical of what I read on the wiki, so I either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the flaws in the story, and I liked it pretty uncritically. Even back then I wanted to write for it, and years later, when I decided to write for the Wiki, I still did. At that point, I noticed a lot more issues with Resurrection on re-read, but I was already attached to the canon. It was really influential to how I viewed the wiki, so in spite of its flaws it’s important to me as an SCP writer. These days, though, I’m probably far too critical to get attached to things in the same way, hence my general apathy towards staff stories (though it might be worth noting that even back then, I found senior staff stories annoying as I outlined in a previous post).

I also understand your second point about the staff representing interesting aspects of the setting. As a writer, though, in a lot of cases I just kind of figure “why bother with all that baggage when I can just write my own character that I’ll enjoy writing more and is better tailored to my needs?” And, again, these characters just seem too ill-defined to get a good bead on. That sort of falls back to the whole “why bother with wrangling all that when I can make my own character.” I wrote Iris because I find her whole deal as an established SCP to be interesting at a basic level, even if I find the original SCP-105 article itself to be bland and uninteresting. I am aware that by trying to write one solid interpretation of her I am only adding fuel to the fire of her having too many interpretations but one day I’ll have the majority of 105 tales under my name. Then who’ll be laughing.

And I definitely get just wanting to use characters that people already know. From a more cynical standpoint, it would help with interest in your content - as I’ve said before, my tales featuring more original characters haven’t done well - but just on an “I have an interest in this thing and I want people to talk to about it” level I get it. Lord knows how many times I’ve latched into a character from something only to see a grand total of two dudes and an ambitious octopus who also like them on the internet.

[cowes]

Ordeal By Innocence anon again, for real, I love to hear your thoughts: It does seem like every time Rachel does something she instantly has a lot of regret, with Hester, with confessing Kirsten's secret to Jack, she immediately regrets it, but the damage is still done you know. And yet she hates what she's done in the name of image, but she just can't quite let it go. And also, if Hester is 18 when the show starts... jesus christ that's so much to deal with at that age. And not to word vomit, but 4 episodes was not enough to sit with these guys. Like we see that Mickey has issues with self harm from such a young age. How did that start and where does that impulse come from. Like where did each of them come from, what are their backgrounds. I don't even know how to articulate everything. But you're right, Ella's performance is really sweet, but not exactly innocent, like that moment with the constable? I think in episode 2 where she smiles and acts friendly with him and then sends that look to Tina. And she's the one that is the most outwardly guilty, but also understanding? Like she understands why someone would snap, maybe better than any of them, for the depths of what Rachel did to her. And Mary digs at that and she's the one to get physical first in response. But then Mary is the one holding her when Rachel is murdered. And then her hiding the liquor in the bathroom, like is she a teenager, early twenty year old just hiding booze from her parents or did she develop a problem after everything that happened. And also that scene after Philip assaults her like smoking under the tree and physically trying to erase what happened... man I could go on and on

hey bestieee. (laughing at 'ordeal by innocence anon' as if i have any other anon) as usual u have it so right, this time about rachel. what a fascinating character. she loves kirsten so much that its actually a bit confusing that she just spills her deepest darkest secret in a moment of spite. and then begs for her forgiveness, scared and confused, when she's been hit on the head and is dying. (in a way that's very reminiscent of her panic attacks in the prepper bunker). also the existence of the prepper bunker is so interesting. jack said this:

You're such a gutless fraud, Mother. Smiling like there's nothing wrong. But you built a nuclear bunker in the cellar in case the bombs start falling, so I know you're terrified, I know you're a mess. Just admit it. Stop smiling. Stop pretending. And, in return, I'll stop.

and he has her completely right. i suspect that was the writers using jack as a mouthpiece.

as for the children's backgrounds. i remember this. mary was adopted first, quite young, but unknown background. jack was second, born from kirsten and leo. hester was third, unknown background. tina and mickey were adopted last, at the same time - seems like it was during ww2 bc of the gas mask boxes. mickey seems like he has a london accent (?) and its possible that they were just billeted at first but later adopted - but that's my speculation.

um - i hate to break this but this interview with ella says that she was 18 in the main timeline (c. summer 1956) but younger in flashbacks. (im pretty sure flashbacks begin summer 1953 and end with the murder on christmas eve 1954, which would make hester 15 - 16ish years old). it's all pretty yikes. personally i imagine her as older. because my brain cant handle all that. so "early twenty year old" - once again, u r sooooo right.

mickey is very quiet, but he has a lot of personality ur so right. and the self-harm thing i think i only really picked up on in rewatches. cut himself during childhood lessons with rachel, had to eat with a spoon at dinner because not trusted with a knife, cigarrette burns, has MULTIPLE knife tattoos?? bruh. theres a lot going on there, so much, but he isnt going to talk about it. i think he struggles a lot with self-image. the fact that he's kept his accent. the fact that mary suggests he try to seduce gwenda to stop the marriage.... it all suggests a certain image that certain members of the family (rachel, leo, mary) have of him that he possibly leans into for protection. but the self harm is.... yeah, lot to think about.

mary. oh mary. i love you mary. so cruel and insecure and tragic and petty. horrible husband. horrible life that she isnt happy with. i truly think that after the events of the story she could have been the most well off. rid of the terrible people in her life, new relationships with siblings, new sense of purpose. of course all that would come with crushing anxieties and trauma but we stay positive in this house!!!!

lastly, i just want to say that i never read the books and from what i gather from r/agathachristie is that they dont like this adaption. its okay. all of this extra, dark stuff is added by sarah phelps. ultimately i enjoy it but if we're speculating on why it exists in the story when none of it gets really properly examined, i think that it was added for edginess. that said, i think it was really really effective. i love worldbuilding, i love hints at deeper characters, i love using my imagination. the demons got me on this one.

[pclungs]

ok so. there's this butch. very hot butch. she's a club organizer on campus and hosts lesbian film screenings in houston and lesbian nights at bars. we were classmates this past semester and we went to the state capitol to protest etc etc and we're kind of acquaintances????? maybe friends???? idek. i go to her second lesbian night she's hosting despite the fact i was already exhausted and stressed after typing up like 40 minutes of an oral history interview in a single day, editing and abstract and everything. i go just to congratulate her on a successful night and to ask her how everything's going. i could only manage to maybe say hi to her before she would go to do smth with her friends, like not even event related things which i would have understood. it was a busy night. went up to her like twice just trying to wish her well and she'd just say hi, apologize for being so drunk, say she's glad i came, then would go. left me to go smoke w her friends in the bathroom and like at that point i was afraid i did something wrong, like socialized the Wrong way and bugged her in the process so she tried to leave as an excuse. she said not to leave without saying bye, and after 30 min of being there i left and was just gonna wave bye to her since apparently she was too busy to say anything to me the entire night beyond a hello and telling me she's drunk. she went outside w me to give me like a heartfelt thank you for showing up and supporting her, holding my hand and hugging me n shit and then saying she was sorry she was drunk and horny and at that point i was already kind of annoyed so in my head i was like who cares. but whatever i was still sincerely happy for her and wishing her well, she was telling me that she wanted me to text her when i got home bc it was really important to her that she knew i got home safe and because i am very mature, i was so annoyed and upset by the end of the night that i walked to the bus stop alone at 1:30am out of spite. ignored almost the whole night. like i wasn't even expecting gay shit i just wanted to congratulate her as a kind of friend, we'd already traveled together at this point. but like idek if she can even be a friend 🧍🏽‍♂️like acquaintance at best maybe

[tri-punisher]

sidney: was at the eye before lr and ww, was one of the first people razlo met when razlo first brought himself and livio there. the two of them grew up together and trained together and fought together and shared every moment they could and sidney later grew increasingly vindictive and spiteful of razlo when chapel decided razlo was who he wanted to groom into becoming a punisher (and his personal weapon of mass destruction) and simultaneously determined sid to be a lost cause because he became far too unruly and recalcitrant (and unpredictable and fiercely vindictive). sid's not able to direct his anger at all the correct sources so razlo unfortunately keeps getting caught in the firing line and can't do much of anything to mend their relationship despite how much he tries, trying and trying despite not even really knowing why it's gotten so bad in the first place, holding onto a memory when things where better between them, when sid actually seemed to care

lockjaw: augmented human drone who only existed to test some of the extensive mental conditioning that's later refined for use on the weird henchmen that carry razlo's punishers. razlo grew attached to her during their testing together and pleaded for her to be spared from disposal and now is solely responsible for her when the rest of the eye view her as refuse and nothing more. the threat of her execution is a rope often dangled over his head to cow him into submission (they originally used sidney for that but lockjaw's a significantly easier target as she's much less capable of defending herself)

siphon: doesn't really have any direct emotional or historical ties to razlo outside of siphon having pledged itself to the eye in its entirety and consequently viewing razlo as nothing but an esteemed punisher. siphon at least doesn't give razlo a hard time because it is unerringly loyal and abides by the strict hierarchy within the eye and so takes its position under him very seriously, but siphon still views razlo solely as a weapon, and a weapon no matter how good is still an object.

new comer damian: weirdly fucking fixated on razlo because he failed as a punisher and so he simultaneously wants to be razlo, who is the best of the best, and also be with him, which is kinda like the complete opposite of sid's weird ass feelings about razlo with a couple extra steps. totally despises sid because sid has (or sid had at this point) that extreme closeness to razlo that damian wishes for. has the same kind of desire for violence that sid wants--demands--of razlo though. damian also despises lesley for the same reasons, if not more, because razlo actually treats the woman who's nice to him a little differently to pretty much everyone else who's intent on treating him like shit. whoa. crazy

and lesley's excluded from this roundup bc she was swept up into the eye in her later teen years so she ended up with her head still screwed on pretty well which results in her being Quite Normal given the circumstances; she views her association with the eye purely as survival, it was either that or fend for her-recently-orphaned-self out in the desert with no remaining family to find or speak of. she can see the many ways razlo suffers and the many ways he believes he should suffer and spends years feeling helpless to do anything about it because their circumstances couldn't allow for any kind of change.

im inventing new guys to figure out new fun ways razlo can be tormented during his tenure at the Child Snatching Assassin Murder Death Cult

[worstloki]

Okay but we all know President Loki’s entire campaign was funded by his Onlyfans account

the other lokis try to make money their own way but pres loki and kid loki+croki are the ones actually funding all Loki Found Family operations