#he is the innocence she wishes she could have saved in herself. anyways

[gh0st-patr0l]

Found the og saw 2 script and bro... the Amanda Daniel emotions I am experiencing rn.

[hwangism143]

empty

synopsis: minho and his antics, of which you and your family must endure.

pairing: dad!minho x fem!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: mentions of food, vaccines (?), swearing

word count: 1.2k words

now playing: seven - taylor swift

requested: by @stayinlimbo (have your own requests? find the prompt list here)

a/n: i could have made this very angsty and sad. i could. but i didn't since i'll save that hurt for later and dad minho is simply top tier. also, this is a first day of school present (pls wish me luck).

"just like a folk song, our love will live on"

There were several problems in the world that you should have been worried about: poverty, hunger, war; but there was only one problem in your world which you were currently worried about: a purple lunch bag.

You set off on your conquest, the lunchbox being lost to the point where you were rummaging in places where you knew it wouldn't be. (The act certainly did earn you confused stares from your family, wondering why you were rifling through the shoe closet.)

As you continued tossing things aside and internally screaming at why something had to go wrong today of all days, you heard a meek voice coming from the living room, which was behind you.

"I'm sorry," the voice came, followed by a sniffle.

"No, don't be sorry. It's not you fault," Minho said softly.

You smiled softly at the interaction before focusing on the task ahead once again. When you finally spotted the lunch bag behind the cat food in the pantry, the gears in your head started turning. You let out a small laugh when you realized the scope of the situation.

Walking over to where the two other occupants of the apartment were standing, you held out the purple lunch bag and dropped down to your knees.

Your daughter Minji gasped in wonder, here eyes wide, "You found it!"

Share wrapped her arms around your neck as you responded tightly, "I sure did."

Over Minji's shoulder, you caught Minho's eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him and he just innocently blinked in response.

"Alright, all set to go?" Minho asked gently once Minji finally peeled herself of your body.

You both knew that the overtly long embrace was not only because of the then lost now found lunch bag, but because of the nervousness that was hidden deep in the crevices of her heart now that she had to face the reality of her first day of school.

No matter the amount of anxiety that resided in her though, because Minji's excitement overshadowed all else.

Nodding enthusiastically, she slipped her hand into Minho's. The juxtaposition of her tiny hand adorned with glittery bracelets and his larger hand with a single brown watch nearly made you tear up. Shit, were you pregnant again?

Minho and Minji were practically out of the door when she squealed, "Wait! I almost forgot!"

Shoving her lunch bag into the hands a perplexed Minho, Minji ran back inside and to the tiny corner of the living room where the cats were peacefully sleeping. Minho exchanged a glance with you and quickly whipped out his phone, not knowing what Minji was about to do but eager to capture it anyways.

Minji hurriedly bent down and placed a kiss on each cat's fur. "Be," mwah! "good," mwah! "and don't," mwah! "annoy mom," she finally finished with a content expression on her face.

You nearly doubled over in laughter and turned around to look at Minho. You expected him to have a similar reaction but instead found tears glistening in his eyes. Sending a pout his way, you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

Placing your chin on his shoulder, you asked, "Are you crying?"

Minho sniffed, "No. Yes. Maybe."

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and leaned against you, the two of you quietly observing the outcome of the life you had built together. Materialistically, it was a four bedroom house. Emotionally, it was home. Literally, the scene in front of you was a five year old girl kissing three cats.

To you, it was family.

You pressed your lips against his cheek. "Go drop Minji off at school," you told him sweetly, "And then we'll discuss why you hid our daughter's lunch bag behind the goddamn cat food."

Minho's eyes widened fractionally until he finally let out a defeated sigh. He shifted his position so that now, you arms were around his neck and his arms were around your hips. The lunch bag hung from his wrist and occasionally bumped against your body.

"The house will be so empty," he argued, "I'll have nothing to do and no one to talk too. And you know how I am when I'm alone."

It was true; Minho's separation anxiety was an extremely comical topic of conversation. When you took Minji to visit your parents for two days, Minho called up his members so much that you started to receive complaints from his friends.

("I took my son to get a vaccine," Hyunjin ranted, "A vaccine and this man was blowing up my phone with anime memes. I don't even watch anime!")

You were about to give him a response when Minji came over, shooting the two of you a dirty look. Minho chuckled nervously and quickly detached himself from you. You placed a kiss on Minji's cheek and with a 'bye mommy!', she was dragging her father out the door.

━━━━━━━✦✗✦━━━━━━━━

She was one of the most treasured people in his life. He would move heaven and earth for her, at just a request. He would kill and die for her, at her behest.

Minho thought that losing her to that horrible institution would kill him. He was overdramatizing, per usual, but it still pained him. As soon as her hand slipped from his, it dawned on him just how easily temporal loss could turn into a permanent one.

But on his drive home, Minho reflected on her beaming smile that rivaled the beauty of a rainbow. He was going to watch his baby grow, and be there every step of the way. And threaten any significant others she finds on her journey during their first meeting with possible oven baking, if you allowed it.

━━━━━━━✦✗✦━━━━━━━━

Later that night, when you secretly told Minji about the mischievous antics her father was up to (he tried eavesdropping, but she promptly told him off), she gasped as if you had just fed her the juiciest piece of celebrity gossip their was.

She quickly admonished her father for it ("appa, that is not kind!") while Minho bit back laughter, silently convulsing at her words. He later moped around you when Minji went to bed, ignoring the way you were coaxing him into bed until you apologized.

When you asked him why you should apologize, he defended himself with "You can't go around sharing our inside jokes! I want something just for me and you. In case you were wondering, kisses and cuddles will help."

Soon, it became a Lee household tradition for Minho to hide Minji's lunch bag the first day of school. You and Minji would then wake up and pretend that there would be disastrous consequences if the lunch bag wasn't found.

Despite the changing environment and personal developments taking place in all of you, two things always stayed the same during these annual games: the now old and battered lunch bags and Minho's fond gaze as he watched his wife and daughter set out to find the lunch bag.

This was the same gaze he wore when he hid Minji's graduation cap and prom dress. It was the same gaze he had when Minji introduced the boyfriend he knew would be the one and watching her walk down the aisle.

It was the same gaze he portrayed on his face when he was old and graying, with Minji soon bringing over kids over her own and work drama.

He wore this gaze often and with pride because he knew, no matter how empty his house would feel at times, he heart would be filled with people he loved and people who loved him, never deprived.

please reblog and comment if you liked this fic! it means everything to me and I love reading your thoughts <3

main taglist (reply to be added):

@linoalwaysknows @moon0fthenight @hyulino @palindrome969

@squishybinnieee @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @stayinlimbo @farfromsugafanfic

@hongshuaknow @cookiesandcreammy

[littleblackraincloudofcourse]

My thoughts on the lives and deaths of the House of Usher

Prospero - I almost feel sorry for Perry. His ideas weren't bad and unlike his siblings he was doing them himself. I also found it hilarious when he tried to fuck his brother wife. If nothing else that kid had confidence. Fredrick was dick to both of them anyway and she deserved to have fun. If you remove the blackmail and acid rain and that would have been one hell of a party.If Perry hadn't been planning to blackmail everyone he wouldn't have deserved his death. But his death was EXQUISITE. Everything about that scene was so perfect I can't find words to describe it. Everyone involved in creating that scene deserves an award

Camille - We actually got to know very little about her. Her whole story was about finding dirty on the others and managing crisis for the family. Even her death isn't shown. I think the point was that she never got to just be. She lived and died for others but never connected with anyone.

Napoleon - Leo was to me the closest to likable of any of the siblings. He clearly loved them and that may have been the only love he way capable of. He certainly didn't love his boyfriend or anyone he had/was having sex with. He treated people like objects. His death is tricky to categorize. On one side what he did to Pluto was horrifying and anyone who treats animals that way deserves the same fate. But he never actually did any of those things. It was all hallucinations and illusions first from drugs then Verna. He was stressed and grieving and kept finding dead animals everywhere. I would be ready to smash walls in that situation too. He definitely didn't need to be a pet owner but I think his death should have been less torturous

Victorine - I wrote this one last because it was my favorite Poe story growing up and she played it beautifully. That slow steady decent into madness I should have hated this character most of all. Those poor chimps and who knows what other innocent creatures she killed with experiments she knew wouldn't work. Even with her father constantly pushing for progress she should have stopped. Verna gave her so many chances, she wasn't even there when Vic killed her girlfriend or herself. She could have stopped at any point. Yes she still would have died but it could have been painless and less tragic. T'Nia Miller's performance was so good that I actually felt sad for her in that final scene. At least until I thought of the chimps again.

Tamerlane - Knock off Madeleine. Where her sisters hid and guarded their personalities she never had one. Her entire existence was for appearances (hence the ridiculous amount of mirrors). Even when she tries to show emotion she couldn't look at the person she was talking to. Her death might have seemed the most passive but it was shoot beautifully. It was also the only thing she actively accomplished on her own.

Fredrick - Fuck you Frodrick. When his siblings said he was just like their father they didn't even realize how right they were. He might have been worse. His poor wife deserved so much better. I genuinely enjoyed watching the pendulum swinging towards him as he was paralyzed beneath it. I only wish there was more than one so he could feel more pain. He was so much a piece of shit Verna enjoyed killing him. Everyone else got warnings, chances to walk away and have peaceful deaths But this asshole, she knew he didn't deserve one. He got exactly what he deserved. Lying in a puddle of his own piss waiting to die. Seriously fuck that guy

Lenore - This sweet brave girl was the only good the Ushers ever brought into the world. So pure and good even Verna mourned having to take her. I loved that she got to know how much good she put into the world and how many lives she saved. Even knowing from the beginning she would die, it was still heartbreaking to see. At least it was painless and instant

Madeleine - She was cold and selfish but she was also usually right. I respect that even when making a deal with the devil she still had standards. She at least made sure not to have children incase. There is a bit of irony in the fact she didn't want to spend her life serving a man then chaining her destiny to her brother. Gave of serious twincest vibes that I am glad where not explored. Her death seemed a fair balance for her past and mirroring her mother's death brought everything full circle. She fell with the house of Usher. Also sapphire is a good color for her.

Roderick - Without doubt the worst of them all. He knowingly killed millions with his drug. He destroyed any shred of humanity in his children. Possibly worst of all, he knew the damage he was causing and who would have to pay for it but he didn't even blink. Being mentally tortured by his dead children was not enough. He deserved the worst death of all. I understand the poetry of him dying the same way his father did but I wish he suffered more.

[writingwisterias]

Hello! Can you write Jill Valentine with a coworker! Reader who was kidnapped and turned into a Nemesis-like B.O.W because they were experimented on by Wesker?

When Jill first saw B.O.W! Reader, her first thought is to get her gun. But surprisingly, the creature didn't seem to immediately attack her at all. Jill lowered her gun and got good at its face. She immediately recognized the face of a coworker she once knew that she saw on a missing poster.

Got a request to do with with Leon as well so I've combined them into two drabbles! Let me know if you want anyone else because I love the angst with this idea! ~ Mads <3

Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, Regular Resident Evil Shenanigans, Hurt No Comfort

Jill Valentine (RE3)

Jill looked at the wall in her apartment, the red lines attached to various pins which she hoped were many clues that led to the solution of your suspicious disappearance. Your innocent face was in the middle of the web of red, your smile a constant reminder of how much she's missed seeing it in the morning as you arrived into work with an extra coffee for the team. She understood why you saved her and Chris as you all faced the betrayal of your boss but falling out of a window as Wesker dragged you along with him was something she could never have expected to happen. The situation became even weirder when they returned and never found a body. She spent the following days after the incident with Chris and the rest of the team cleaning up the leftover nightmares that roamed the mansion, whilst looking for clues to try and figure out what happened to you.

It had been months since she had any sense of a direction with this case, every time she thought she figured it out another dead end greeted her. The rain hammered against her windows as she woke up, the storm mimicking the anger she felt at letting anything happen to you. Jill sighed as she stared at the board for the hundredth time, before getting up and walking over to bathroom. She wondered over to the bathroom to splash her face to wake herself up. Her phone rang and she rushed to answer it, Brad was begging her to run and get out of the apartment but the warning came too late when the wall came crushing into her. Jill didn't hesitate to drop the phone and run, not even wasting time to look behind and figure out what was attacking her.

Jill coughed on the impact as she was flung against the wall in a harsh smack. She sunk to the floor clutching her side as she watched the flames reveal the thing that had be chasing her. A large deformed B.O.W crept closer to her, its build was strong and easily towered over her, its flesh mangled and stretched thin as she assumed it went through countless transformations. Yet it's face remained fairly untouched, it wasn't until it was almost upon her that she recognized it. It was you. She shouted your name, begging for you to stop your stalking, hoping there was a chance you were still there. you hesitated for a second, only to be called at by another person greeting you with a rocket launcher. You fell at the impact, delaying you pursuit on Jill. You watched her be dragged away by the man, her screams of your name didn't fall on deaf ears, but the commands were still pulsing throughout your head no matter how many times you begged for him to stop. You begged to stop hunting and killing your friends. You only hoped Jill had the strength and mercy to stop you, and finally put an end to your pain.

Jill sat in the subway train, staring at the blood caked on her boots. Her brain wishing for Chris to be here and help her figure out what to do, to see if there was anyway they could save you or if it was easier to just finally let you go. She wasn't sure if she was ready for that.

Leon Kennedy (RE4R)

Leon groaned as he lifted Ashley onto the chair with your help, the both of you trying to fight off the infection that was now rapidly growing. He felt you slump against the back of his chair as he quickly tried to stop the infection from growing inside Ashley. The both of you held her hand tightly as she went through the procedure, eagerly waiting to see if it succeeded or failed. Your heart ached watched the poor girl scream in pain as the machine did it's job, your only thought was coming up with compelling arguments to get Leon on the chair next. Coming up with excuse after excuse on why he should go and not you. It seemed like the universe worked in your favor though as you felt him slide off the chair and onto the floor, collapsing in a heap of limbs. You whimpered as you attempted to pry his arms into your grip to help lift him, you could slowly feel the infection finalizing its spread throughout your body, signaling you didn't have much time left and you assumed it was only the same for Leon. He was just the one that the exhaustion caught up with first.

You felt his weight slowly get lifted with as Ashley, who was now awake, helped you haul him onto the chair. She then rushed to help you in the chair as she saw your form swaying. "Get the restraints, I'll do the computer" you spoke softly, exhaustion was creeping in fast. Ashley listened to your final commands without hesitation, naively hoping the machine would fast enough to help you as well. Once the machine was set up and whirring you stumbled away from the chair, deciding to watch from afar as Leon got cured. You slumped against the wall, your legs finally giving out as you slowly felt Sadler turn your brain into mush, his echoing commands in the foreground of Ashley's cheers of success as Leon was cured. You felt your heart break as she turned to you her eyes widening as she witnessed the black almost take over your eyes. "Make sure he kicks Sadler's ass for me please." You joked, giving the girl a smile. She nodded, tears falling down her dirtied face as she turned to look at Leon again, praying he would wake up fast enough to help you onto the chair.

Leon woke up to Ashley's tear stained face as she slowly released him from the restraints. He groaned as he sat up scanning the room for you. His heart dropped when he spotted your hunched figure in the corner of the room. He called your name weakly before getting up to approach. He approached slowly, limping his way over to you. Leon called your name again, raising his hand towards Ashley as a silent command to stay there. He saw all the black seeping throughout your body, there was barely any unaffected skin left. His hands shook as he touched the handle of his knife. His breath catching in his throat as he watched you lift up your head as look at him, but your eyes were black, emotionless. He whispered your name for a final time, a final attempt to see if you were there but he knew. He knew it was a mercy killing but still struggled to hold back the tears as he did it.

Ashley watched his shoulders shake as he mourned over the loss of you, his partner. He clutched you body close to him, your blood seeping into his trousers and onto his hands. "She wants you kick his ass" Ashley whispered her hand falling on his shoulder comfortingly. He nodded, gently laying to peace as best he could. You were now another person he couldn't save on this mission but he sure as hell was going to avenge you the best he could.

[multifandombullshitbabes]

It makes me so mad seeing people genuinely believe that Alicent is just sacrificing Aegon just because. Like no!!! Fuck, did y'all watch that scene with your eyes closed??

Leading up to that scene, we have Alicent that knows there's abt to be a war, she started it (it was gonna happen anyway but whatever), but she tried to stave off the guilt of it by believing that she was doing her dying husband's a favor. She thought she was doing good even if i caused so much pain.

Then, she learns it was a complete misunderstanding already too late: the first big event of the war has happened, and it was only a taste of what's to come. Even then, it already brought so much grief, not even talking abt the grief from the first episode. And before that convo with Rhaenyra, Alicent could lie to herself and think that it was all for something, it was all meant to be just like Viserys said (even though she had her doubts, but who was she to refuse his dying wish?). Now? She doesn't have that anymore, and she is now scrambling and improvising, just keeping it going cuz wtf else is she supposed to do.

But her tipping point? When she realized that the one true innocent in all of this, Halaena, would not be spared in this war, no matter how much she tried to not think about it. That scene where they both run away from their hungry and angry subjects, that's when Alicent realizes, in a kind of foolish way, that she as well was going to suffer, not just Aegon or Aemond, but Halaena and herself as well: that even though they wouldn't go into battle themselves, they wouldn't be spared.

Honestly, she already knew this of course, she just didn't want to think about it too much: that in a war its not only those who battle who die, but also everyone else. It is here that Alicent realizes the true point of war: nothing. It is only death and casualties, no winners.

This is WHY she has that scene of running away and swimming into the lake. She cannot bear to think that she's doomed so many innocents to die, something she was aware of before but now has lived the reality of it firsthand with her own sweet daughter. She understands the futility in her actions, in her petty schemes, in following her fathers footsteps, in trying to be a good Christian girl in a society that hates women, etc. She understands that nothing fucking matters. So, she might as well save her daughter and granddaughter this fate of death if she can; especially because she KNOWS she cannot save either of her sons.

And that's the thing: Aegon is at the center of this conflict, he is likely to die; Aemond is their biggest weapon in this war, he is very likely to die. Alicent, in a very dark way, has already resigned herself to losing both of her sons, Aegon since he was born and Aemond since the war happened. Aegon is that one death that she is constantly reminded of, every time she looks at Rhaenyra she sees the one that has the power and right to forfeit his life, as they literally say in the show multiple times. Is it logical? Not really, considering we don't have evidence of Rhaenyra herself thinking like this. But since the men think it that way, it must be the only truth ever, and so the story goes.

Could Alicent have denied Viserys wish and let things be? Sure, but then she wouldn't be Alicent, the one desperate to be seen as a dutiful wife that gave birth to the rightful heir to the throne and who should feel very bitter about and so she does (and she does, but she also admits that Rhaenyra would've made a fine queen, she knows that the world wouldn't have ended if she let things be). It is that heavy subject of her being the only witness to his last moments and so she feels naturally duty bound as his wife to carry his last message. I cannot fault her for this, no matter the consequences of it.

And when we get to that last scene, we see all of this, just as Rhaenyra says: that, per her father's wish, she should be the heir and therefore Aegon NEEDS to die. And Alicent doesn't want to accept this truth, because that is her child, but she knows it to be true. Neither woman likes this, Rhaenyra is literally shaking and crying, Alicent looks like she can barely breathe in that entire scene. They are both mothers, and one knows exactly how bad it is to lose a child and the other knows she is about to find out how it feels.

However, they both believe this is the best that they can do in this shit situation, to avoid more innocent deaths, to stop this war from moving forward, to let each other lead their own lives as they wish. Aegon has to be sacrificed in name of the Targaryen line, and it is fucked up and Alicent does not choose this willingly but only because she knows it will happen either way, since Aegon quite literally cannot defend himself right now. She knows he is going to die, so she might as well do it in a way that ensures peace to the realm if she can.

Im sorry, bit that last scene was amazingly written and so well acted and performed and it is so disappointing seeing people being fucking foolish about it. So so sick of it. Alicent loves her children despite all of them being a product os statutory rape, the reason why she lost her vest friend, the reason why she had to resort to her cruel and petty ways, just like her father. She still loves them all and it is heartbreaking to watch.

[rottendeadpan]

Nobody has asked about her but I wanna talk about her anyway

This is Antonia; she’s the middle-triplet to the Emile-Antonia-Faure trio

she’s twisted off of Marie, and in battle class, she’d be the DPS, despite being the shortest, smallest, and most ‘innocent’ looking.

She’s a little clumsy, and finds herself in several Situations that honestly, most people really should not have found themselves in. She’s a white cat, but there’s a running joke that she’s secretly a black cat of bad luck but specifically her own bad luck.

She doesn’t go to any canon school to hone her magic; it’s a fanmade school.

She takes after her mother AGGRESSIVELY in appearances, to the degree you can barely tell there was another donor to her genepool-- beyond the personality, that is. Whereas Eva (Mom) is fairly calm and very flowing with her movements, words, and how easily she can take a hit (metaphorical or literal) and keep going, Antonia is a little jarring. She never Starts fights, but boy will she finish them. She’s the sweetheart next door one second, the idol you wish you could catch, and then the next second she’s knee deep in mud shoving one of her brother’s under a log cause they pulled her ear too hard. She’s a hair trigger AND a damsel; able to defend herself without question and wanting protection from someone who will dote on her hand and foot. She is a perfect princess; the rising star of amateur opera. She dreams of getting her throat insured one day--

and she’ll bite you so hard and fast you won’t know what’s happening.

(Or so, that’s how her brothers tell it)

if you ask Faure, she’s a little demon who always has to get her way, but he’d kill and hide a body for her, no questions asked. The two bicker and ‘fight’ constantly, if they had to guess it’s a 1:10 for how many times Emile fights with anyone compared to how many times Antonia and Faure end up pulling tails.  (he loves her deeply, though, and will drop his boy-next-door persona the moment she falls to real harm in order to save or protect her.)

Antonia is a fashionista and a makeup fan, trying to keep up with all the trends and actively posting and browsing around on Magicam. She doesn’t have the kind of pull that people like, say, Vil does-- but she tries her hardest. In year2, after Faure and Deuce start dating, she learns that Deuce used to go to school with Vil (keyword on Used To, as Vil was a 4th year-pushing-graduation and knee deep in workstudy), and nearly lost her mind that she lost her ONE CHANCE of ever connecting with the man.  she is a Princess and she’s going to make sure you treat her as one.

one of Antonia’s side projects is run promo material on her personal hype page, but this means she has to actually Test hte products first-- which is where her brothers come in. If she can’t risk a breakout, she’s slapping the weird facemask on one of the boys and judging the results accordingly before she posts it anywhere. She’ll also practice makeup on either boy which has lead to Faure sprawled across her floor with his face beat in full glitter and lashes, waiting for the sign that he can bail and wash all the nonsense off (cause she can kick his butt, and he knows it.)

Antonia’s magic is decently high in the Attack potential, but she lacks in defense or support. Luckily her triplets fill in those gaps very well.  her UM is still being hashed out, but it’s ‘banshee scream’ themed-- right now I’m sort of swatting around an idea it’s a Disarm. Maybe she can get her voice to such a level that Almost All attackers will drop their weapon, and she can swoop in to deliver a full disarming blow. 

** forgot to say so i’m throwing it into the end her hair is naturally mostly straight, she spends minimum An Hour daily to make her hair do the full ringlet curl. Her ‘show performance’ hairstyle takes nearly 2h cause she refuses to let a single curl droop while she’s on stage under all those lights.

[fuutaprotectionsquad]

Yknow I feel like I should have a main post where I share my Milgram opinions/verdicts (thought of this bc i was writing my sister's opinion on the milgram characters). So I'll go character by character.

Will anyone read this? I don't know but its here

Haruka: I relate to him a bit (shitty mother, intrusive homicidal thoughts, neurodivergence). I def feel bad for him but hes still really guilty in my mind. I just think the whole killing for attention thing is a really dangerous mindset you can't just get out of, especially if you're being told you're not in the wrong. And it definitely seems like he doesn't actually feel bad for the girl he killed, just feels bad because people are mad at him for it. Idk. But I enjoy his dynamic with Muu a lot, even tho its toxic i just think its really interesting. But I wish him the best and he deserves a hug. His songs are mid tho (/hj i like them)

Yuno: I love her personality and I think shes so fun, but I honestly don't think about her a lot compared to the others. But I love her and specifically enjoy her dynamics with (obv mostly in fan content) Kazui, Mahiru and Fuuta. Her and Fuuta are such a good platonic ship (romantic is fun too). Innocent vote, obv. I like her songs, but Tear Drop moreso than Umbilical.

Fuuta: Oh my god I wonder what I think of him. In all seriousness he's a major hyperfixation of mine at like every given moment. I adore him and i think he deserves better and to be innocent. Like he feels so guilty for what he did and he didn't know any better, everyone around him was encouraging his behavior and praising him for it. But then it got too far and all his friends abandoned him and blamed him like. Poor fuuta :( and he's like 100% right when he says him and es are exactly the same. On another note, major fan of 0309 (romantically, but either way works), and also love his dynamic with Haruka, Yuno, Mahiru, Amane and Es. His songs are both in my top three (backdraft being #1)

Muu: Tied for my fav character(? Fuuta might beat her idk) I love her personality and vibe and everything just ❤️❤️ queen shit. And her queen bee design is gorgeous. Typically my favs are men but shes one of the first women ive hyperfixated on this much. Again, love her dynamic with Haruka, not from a like. healthy relationships could make the characters better standpoint, but from a story perspective its interesting. But yeah guilty. As for her songs, INMF is my #2 and i like After Pain

Shidou: Honestly I used to be kinda indifferent about him and just found him to be boring but then I rewatched his voice dramas and read some fics and I like him more now. I feel really bad for him bc he went through a really shitty situation which he felt he had the power to change and was stuck in a shitty moral dilemma bc of it. And in the end he did shitty things to save those he loved and it didn't even matter. He feels so guilty and doesn't deserve it. Innocent <3. Also romantic 0507 ftw (0506 is cool too). Him and Amane are silly too. As for his songs i like them, but they're not my fav

Mahiru: i like her, but im not too like. invested in her ig. But i feel bad for her :( she just wants to feel love and like. clearly she did something wrong but she didn't know she was. She never intended to hurt anyone. So innocent. Unless we find out she like. did something really fucking bad then maybe guilty. But in I Love You it implies it was a mutual toxicity so it probably wasn't something super terrible? But anyway. I love her with like all the characters cuz shes just so fun to see interact w others, but specifically with Yuno, Fuuta, Shidou, Amane and Mikoto.

Kazui: Hes so fun i love him. Like all he wants is to be honest and be himself but he feels pressured to lie and then finally he tells the truth and his wife fucking kills herself like- jeez- poor guy. Like following the gay theory, i get why she mightve done it (imagine being told the romance you built your entire life around for like 20 years was all a lie, and that your husband never actually loved you and just pretended to and every time you kissed or something he was just pretending like. that sucks poor hinako) but its so awful that he had to go thru that. But anyway innocent, kazui come out we accept you. And stan 0507. Song wise cat is easily #4 but. half is ok ig

Amane: Yknow i love amane but I also hate her and i think part of that might be the fandom? idk. I feel sorry for her bc she grew up in such a shitty situation but also i think shes beyond the point where we can uninstill those ideologies. Like shes 12, not 5. And amane says it herself that she has as much of a free will as everyone else and that her decision to kill/stay in this environment should be valued. Not that i think she should remain in this abusive situation, but she's not just some innocent kid whose being manipulated, she knows what she's doing. Hence, guilty. I don't think either vote will change her or anything so im voting with my honest opinion. As for dynamics, i love seeing her interact with all the other prisoners, but especially Shidou and Fuuta.

Mikoto: I love mikoto a lot but im so on the fence about his verdict. Ive been voting him innocent but theres still a part of me thats like. debating it. Bc he shouldn't have to be punished for John's actions, and it sucks that that's the situation hes in, but its that or more murders are left to occur. The main reason i say innocent is under the idea that John could go dormant or just stop fronting as much if we reduce mikoto's stress (like he says will happen i think). But hes so complex and fun i love mikoto. Specifically i love romantic 0309 but also his dynamic w the smoking group and mahiru. Also i love his songs.

Kotoko: I love her but also fuck her for hurting fuuta (and mahiru too but mainly fuuta). She annoys me bc she was so quick to almost murder several people based on a preliminary verdict that was made using little information. Like she knew this wasn't a concrete verdict, but attacked them anyway. I get her ideology of "kill people who evade justice to protect the weak" but only when they've actually done bad things (ie. the guy kidnapping the little girl). But when she doesn't know what they did and knows the person accusing them doesn't either???? Like bruh. But i like her character shes fun. I like seeing how she interacts with es and everyone she attacked. And songs, harrow is okay and i really like deep cover.

Whew im done.

[itsclydebitches]

Title: Paved With Good Intentions

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Relationships: Very background Charlie/Vaggie. 99% Charlie and Alastor interactions (with added Razzle and Dazzle)

Word Count: 3,863

Summary:

“Why... hmm. Okay, real quick: what’s an old-timey way of saying someone is full of shit?”

Charlie blinked up at him innocently, probably overdoing it a tad, but after a week of hearing him disparage her dreams as “wacky nonsense” she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not too much, anyway.

“Why, I’d say the sod is full of hot air! A far classier image than the one you’ve just conjured.”

“Then you’re full of hot air, Alastor.” Charlie grinned.

Or: Charlie wants everyone to know that she didn't invite the Radio Demon into her home without precautions.

A/N: First Hazbin fic! Jfc Alastor may be one of the hardest characters I've ever written for. Nailing his voice is gonna take a while.

Fic also below the cut if you prefer to read here 👍

Many in Hell (okay, most in Hell) were under the impression that their Princess was a delusional simpleton, unable to understand something as straightforward as how her own domain worked. Her little interview hadn't helped matters, even if it did reassure them that she could at least throw a decent punch. Really, Charlie only cared about her reputation in as much as it might attract new patrons to the hotel. She didn't need her people to love her, she just needed them to be safe .

(She'd said that to Vaggie once who promptly broke into a choking laugh. “Charlie. You need everyone to love you. All the time . You're just lucky you're really fucking good at it.”)

If strangers cursed her out on the street, that was fine. If her first soon-to-be-redeemed soul thought this was a hilarious fuck-up with only free board making it palatable, that was also fine. If her own father laughed awkwardly at the mere idea of her success that was fine because Charlie could see the good underneath their caustic words; the fear and vulnerability buried beneath their dismissal. Criticism rolled off her back like magma on a fire-duck and if shouldering the disdain of her community was the price of seeing them saved, Charlie would gladly pay it.

...Although, she did wish her closest companions had a little more faith in her. Not about the hotel necessarily, but just that she had a functioning brain she put to use.

“Your... goats?” Alastor said, tipping his head to narrow eyes at them.

“Goat-dragons,” Charlie corrected, not sparing him a glance. “Mom made them when I was younger, to act as my bodyguards when she and Dad weren't around. You would not beeeliiieve how many assassination attempts there were when I was a kid. Dad even dyed my hair once to try and give me a low profile and that was—well! You don't need to see those pictures. The point is that I didn't just let you in all willy-nilly, heedless of my own safety, or whatever it is Vaggie's been saying. If you'd meant any real harm they would have torn you to shreds.”

Charlie was in the process of re-styling the seating area for a slumber party that night. Which throw pillow better conveyed emotional safety to share one's most intimate secrets past 3:00am? Blue or yellow? Pursing her lips, she bounced from foot-to-foot a couple times before chucking both against the growing mound. After a good fluffing she nodded. Both. Both was good.

When she turned, Alastor was staring.

He'd only been at the hotel about a week but Charlie had noticed that he did that a lot. It wasn't just the fixed smile that lent weight to his gaze; he didn't blink . Leaning against Husk's bar with that microphone tucked under one arm, Alastor looked so at ease that Charlie knew it was all an act—the real Alastor, tentacled and laughing maniacally, simmered just beneath the surface. She'd have felt threatened by it if not for the fact that, well, Razzle and Dazzle were here.

Charlie shot them a quick smile. They'd piled on the carpet together, a mess of limbs and horns. Snores and the occasional 'meep' emerged to fill the silence.

“Well now, stop the presses! Our little lady is just full of surprises.” Alastor's grin stretched even further, seeming to creak along its edge. His hands connected in a shattering clap. “We haven't known each other very long, my dear, so I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding—entirely forgivable, I assure you—but I thought you just implied that these lazy, miniature vermin are capable of besting me?”

“ Don't talk about them like that! ”

The words snapped out of Charlie before she could consider reigning them in. She even saw a little smoke wafting upwards, a sure sign that if she let those emotions stew any longer her true form would burst through. Fucking hell, Charlie, you're giving orders to the Radio Demon now? Oh Lord. It was never good when her thoughts starting sounding like Vaggie, but Charlie stifled a groan as she admitted that yeah, that probably wasn’t selling the whole 'Capable of handling tough situations without needlessly endangering herself' vibe she was going for.

Alastor just smiled though. It was hard to tell, but Charlie thought he might have been pleased with her temper. There was something in the way he leaned forward onto the tip of his staff; off balance to start a fight, but magnetically drawn into the fray. “Easy now, darling! I never took to baloney as a child—horrific excuse for a meat, truly—but I can recognize it when I hear it. So you care for these... creatures? Well off course you do! A sweet, silly thing like you is bound to get attached to all manner of beings. The delightful,” he dropped into a sweeping bow, “—and the drab.” Alastor's staff kicked outward at the end of the gesture, landing on Dazzle's back leg. The goat-dragon gave a sleepy grunt at the disturbance but otherwise didn't stir.

Really, Alastor had hardly touched him, but Charlie still felt the tip of one fang digging painfully into her bottom lip. She took a deep, fortifying breath to cleanse herself of negativity. She was just stressed about the new Extermination timeline. And the sleepover. And the fact that the Radio Demon was now living down the hall. Just the other day she’d chastised Angel for a barrage of angry texts he’d sent without thinking and now here Charlie was, nearly flying off the handle for similarly petty reasons. Razzle and Dazzle were fine. She was fine, and her people were going to be fine if she had anything to fucking say about it. Charlie summoned up a smile to match Alastor’s own.

“You’re right,” she said. “An Overlord like you didn’t exist back when Mom made them, so she couldn’t have foreseen how powerful you are. I mean yeah, you’d probably win... even if there are two of them. But!” Charlie hastened to add, waving her hands as Alastor’s head cracked sickeningly to the right, “The point is that these hypotheticals are silly. Why do you care so much about who’d win in a fight? You’re never going to fight them. You don’t want to hurt me.”

Alastor’s head, still staring at her from its unnatural angle, began to vibrate oddly while the chest beneath it hitched. It took Charlie a long moment to realize that he was laughing. Not his usual, staccato Ha, Ha, Ha , but something that felt more genuine, despite the fact that no body—not even a demon’s—should be moving like that.

“Ah, what an entertaining bunny you are,” he said, a slight wheeze mixing in with the radio static. “Charlie dearest, have you forgotten that I was a serial killer? Am currently a hunter of Overlords? A keeper of souls? Are you truly under the misguided belief that I wouldn’t hurt you?”

It was terrifying how fast he didn’t move. Charlie watched as Alastor took his time lengthening each limb—spine cracking, joints tearing until they were only held together by sickly, glowing threads—and the tentacles he summoned were lazy as a house cat, inching towards her like they knew it didn’t matter how fast she ran. They’d catch her. The static grew to a high-pitched whine that hurt her ears and the very reality around Alastor began to distort, glitching horribly. One elongated limb reached out with claws glinting in the newly darkened foyer, fingers twitching, itching to rip out her throat.

Charlie blinked. She pursed her lips, gesturing emphatically to Razzle and Dazzle who still lay snoring on the carpet. “Are you listening to me? They’d have ripped you to shreds if you meant any real harm .”

She could see the exact moment Alastor gave up the performance. He froze, the very air particles freezing with him, and a pin-print of light sprang back into his eyes.

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s not—you can’t—” With a frustrated groan Charlie pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. “It’d be easier to show you.”

She trotted through the bits of distorted reality (shivering because ugh ) and ducked under the long line of Alastor’s leg. His eyes tracked her as Charlie scooped a goat-dragon into each arm and nudged the hotel door open with her hip. Once outside, she slapped a drowsy Razzle onto her shoulder and cupped a hand over her mouth.

“Hello there!” she called to a passing demon.

“Who the fuck you yelling at? I’ll kill you, bitch!”

“Will you?” Charlie’s gaze slid to Alastor, now back in his everyday form, curiously peeking out from the doorway. “You know what? That sounds great! Really swell! Please come and kill me.”

The demon stopped in his tracks, staring incredulously up the hill at her fidgety form. “What? Fucking what ? You have a death wish?”

“Yes! Absolutely. Will you come kill me pretty, pretty please? Uh... you ugly, short-sighted asshole? Sorry, sorry sorry ,” Charlie muttered into Razzle’s fur.

“Oh, you’re a whole new level of crazy—”

The demon was adjusting his glasses with one claw and pulling out a clever with the other when Charlie felt Alastor’s energy at her back. She didn’t need to turn around again. The horror that descended on the demon’s face and his hasty exit said it all.

Razzle and Dazzle were now alert, tails thumbing, but neither made a move to go after the guy. Charlie released the breath she’d been holding and promised to write at least five Kindness Notes to leave around town tomorrow.

When she did finally look Alastor was twiddling his fingers at the demon’s retreating form. His eyes, however, were still latched onto Charlie.

“What an interesting way you have of entertaining yourself, my dear. I whole-heartedly approve! Let me take you out on the town—Cannibal Town, that is. You can offer your limbs to the first ravenous child we meet.”

Charlie cracked a smiled. “Uh... maybe later? I didn’t just do that for kicks, you know. The point is we’re living in Hell .” She ignored the way his eye twitched at the obvious statement. “Alastor, how many times a day do you think people threaten to kill me? Pull weapons? Or yes, try to eat me? If Razzle and Dazzle attacked everyone who simply appeared threatening I never would have opened the hotel because there wouldn't be anyone left to save. That guy? All bluster. I’m not sure how Mom did it, but they’re capable of sensing true intentions. They’ll only transform for someone with a real, sustained desire to kill me—or, I guess discorporate me—and the rest? The rest I can handle myself.”

“Hmm.”

Alastor bent forward, inspecting Dazzle closely. The goat-dragon panted happily in his face. “Fascinating! Powerful too, though I’d expect nothing less from the likes of Lilith. I must say, the confidence you hold in your own abilities is simply inspiring given what I’ve seen from you so far.”

Charlie blinked, trying to decide if she’d just been insulted or not.

“You remain delusional, darling,” he clarified, patting her head. Alastor’s grin widened at her scowl and he only pulled back when Razzle gave his fingers a quick lick, his static hissing like a cat. Charlie had the strong urge to chuck them both at the demon and let him suffer the fate of endless cuddles and sticky kisses.

She didn’t though. She was merciful.

“That’s why though,” Charlie said, shrugging so that Razzle had to dig his claws into her shoulder to stay balanced. Ow.

“Why what?”

Alastor had clearly lost the train of their conversation—or was pretending to—inspecting his own claws with the air of a bored Valley Girl.

“Why... hmm. Okay, real quick: what’s an old-timey way of saying someone is full of shit?”

Charlie blinked up at him innocently, probably overdoing it a tad, but after a week of hearing him disparage her dreams as “wacky nonsense” she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not too much, anyway.

Alastor’s eyes narrowed. Definitely suspicious, though not enough to deny her.

“Why, I’d say the sod is full of hot air! A far classier image than the one you’ve just conjured.”

“Then you’re full of hot air, Alastor.” Charlie grinned. “This whole shtick you’ve got going where you pretend like you’re just one insult away from killing us all; the super evil Overlord who could go on a rampage at the slightest whim? Yeah, I get why Vaggie is concerned, but that’s not gonna work on me.” She ran her hand gently through Dazzle’s hair, eliciting a purr. “You can toss out threats and transform all you want, but if you’d ever actually intended to hurt me, even just once... they’d have reacted. They’d have defended me, whether they could win against you or not. I didn’t let you stay because I was desperate for your help—although, ha, I kinda am. I let you stay because I trust you.”

The last was delivered softly and Charlie dared to lay a hand on his arm, oh so briefly. Alastor didn’t react. He appeared to be seeing something past her, the dials of his eyes ticking erratically.

The spell was broken when Razzle let out an explosive sneeze.

“Oh shit that reminds me! I need to pick up some almond butter for Sir Pentious. Apparently his human body was allergic to peanuts and he’s still pretty sensitive about it? And Angel made me swear I’d have peanut butter on hand for the s’mores if he was going to participate in the sleepover. I need to hit the shops before they close—can you get the other supplies ready while I’m gone? Thanks, Alastor, you’re a lifesaver!”

Charlie pelted down the hill with Razzle and Dazzle flying around her heels, both of them yipping at the prospect of a walk.

Alastor remained standing there for a long time after she’d gone. At a glance he looked the same as he always did, though if anyone had gotten close enough they would have caught the sound of a radio continually switching stations.

There appeared to be no connection between the clips. Except, perhaps, that each voice spoke in a tone of furious confusion.

***

The smell of popcorn and cheap booze was sickening.

Alastor’s grin never faltered—obviously—but there were small tears in the couch armrest that spoke of his disgust. In all his years alive and dead he’d never had the pleasure of attending a ‘slumber party’ before and the newfound honor was proving to be a dubious one. Sticky sweets, snacks, and spirits covered every available surface, thrown into truly unholy combinations as Husker passed his (admittedly substantial) limit. If they all hadn’t already been damned, Alastor suspected that making caramel popcorn whiskey floats would have done the trick. The other guests were decked out in their finest nightwear, resulting in them witnessing more of Angel than Alastor had ever wanted to see. Their sanguine Princess had led them through insipid card games, a pillow fight—which did not, apparently, allow for weapons or demonic beasts. Mores the pity—and worst of all: a production shown through that horrible picture box. If they craved entertainment he might have offered her the use of his radio, but...

Well.

In truth, nothing that had occurred here tonight had truly tested Alastor’s patience. If anything, this was merely a distilled version of their collective sins; hardly surprising. He had merely been...out of sorts since their little spat that afternoon. Though it was nothing Alastor couldn’t handle, of course.

(A block away six of Hell’s dictation speakers suddenly crackled to life, causing everyone in the vicinity to freeze, warily lifting their heads. Rather than the usual draconian drivel, however, a sustained, static-y growl began to sound.)

“They’re called Kindness Notes,” Charlie was saying, displaying her stack of colored paper like a trophy. “I got the idea from this awesome human website called Reddit that must just be filled with puppies and rainbows and—”

(”Think we should tell her?” whispered Cherri.

“Yeah, but only after she’s made a bunch,” Angel snickered.)

“—and so it’s the PERFECT activity for a redemption sleepover! Remember: there is no wrong way to go about a creative project, so have fun with it! I’ve got glitter gel pens and stickers—those are scratch and sniff!—and decorative hole punches and more stickers and ribbons and—”

“Stickers?” Husk asked, tipping his glass her way. Charlie nodded with the speed of a bobble-head doll.

“Exactly! Does anyone have any questions?”

“Yeah, I’ve got one.”

“Great!”

“How much sugar you had, kid?”

“Sooooo much!” and the stack would have gone flying if not for Vaggie’s quick reflexes.

“Alright, I’ll take it from here.” She dropped a quick kiss onto Charlie’s rosy cheek before distributing the paper. “You can write anything you want provided it’s nice . Like, actually nice and not your fucked up perception of nice. Don’t sign your name, but you can put a little HH at the bottom to help promote the hotel. Try not to get too many stains on these and yes, everyone has to participate.”

Vaggie stopped in front of the couch where Alastor sat, the only one still dressed and removed from the chaos of their snack-infested pillow nest. He hadn’t the slightest idea why she’d be glaring at him when she said that and he ensured the sentiment was conveyed through his grin.

“But of course!” he said, selecting red with a black pen.

“Humph. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Something nice? A truly daunting task, even for someone of his talents. After today Alastor was more convinced than ever that the Princess was the most insane of them all. Oh, it served his purposes deliciously that she should trust him, particularly with so little effort on his part, and yet it was insulting how naive she could be. Even if he’d had a conscious, Alastor was sure he’d have no qualms about upsetting the power dynamic of Hell and seizing it for himself. If this was their royalty... Hell deserved better. Someone with hunger. Someone with style. Their little bearcat was funneling her passion in all the wrong, most entertainingly stupid directions.

Alastor tilted his head as Charlie finished drawing a sunflower, Niffty flitting about as she swept up the glitter falling away. It looked... domestic .

Ah, but it would be so easy to slit her throat from this angle, spilling ‘paint’ all across the project. Or remove that pretty head from her shoulders, near instantaneously. Summon up his demon pet to crush her bones. Drop her into a void. Fill her mind with so many screams that her brain leaked out her ears in chunky rivers. Hollow her out and puppet her so convincingly that even their Dumb Dora wouldn’t recognize her. He could do it .

Beside Alastor, taking up their half of the couch, Razzle and Dazzle gazed upon the festivities with vacant expressions, tongues lolling.

One—he didn’t care to know which—turned its head and gave him a happy chirp.

(A block away the growl became an all-out screech, like a thousand souls blended together in agony.)

“I could do it,” Alastor whispered to them. He tilted his staff for good measure, ensuring the microphone pointed directly at Charlie. “I doubt your little ‘intentions’ magic is as powerful as she says. Even if it is, you beasts lack in imagination. Trust me, darlings: there are many ways to hurt someone that don’t threaten their physical safety.”

The second goat-dragon had joined in now, tilting its head curiously at Alastor. The first began thumping its tail against its companion’s face, pleased as punch, and suddenly Alastor felt a surge of genuine anger—the first in a long time.

“ She is only unharmed because I wish it ,” he hissed, “because she is more entertaining to me alive than dead!”

(The six speakers blew, showering citizens in shrapnel.)

“Alastor?”

He quickly blinked away the red light that had covered his eyes, turning his attention to Charlie.

“Apologies! Merely musing over what uplifting message I should grace the denizens of Hell with.” Alastor tapped a long claw against his chin, hamming it up. Only Vaggie was sober and de-caffeinated enough to catch on. The smile Charlie graced him with was... honest.

Violent images filled his head in response: of obliterating—or better yet—permanently stitching that smile into place. All the while those creatures sat beside him, both at perfect ease. One even edged closer.

He could do it. He would do it. The only reason Alastor hadn’t was because he didn’t want to do it yet .

But that day would come.

Dazzle sniffed the edge of Alastor’s sleeve. Razzle yawned.

Until then, their Princess was clearly in need of better protection. He’d assign a few shadows to her; sharp pieces of his silhouette who could tail the girl without notice. It would only require a bit of exertion on his part and the surveillance was worth it to ensure his favorite toy didn’t go dying before he had a chance to finish playing with her.

After all , Alastor thought, more at ease with that decision than he’d been all day, better the Devil you know.

“Do you know what you're writing?” Charlie asked, nearly having to shout over the commotion of an impromptu show-and-tell. Sugar and alcohol seemed to have loosened everyone’s dignity alongside their inhibition, because suddenly they all wanted praise for their absurd little notes. Generic messages of support were shoved under Charlie’s nose, led by Vaggie in a delightfully embarrassing display. Although, was it better or worse that Sir Pentious was equally desperate for Charlie’s approval? Angel slapped his note down on the table—complete with a diagram—and Alastor deliberately did not give it a closer look. (Husker’s spluttering was information enough, thank you.) Cherri was busy rolling hers into fuzes, muttering continuously about the message she’d send in the next turf war. Niffty had just written CLEAN in shaky letters across pages and pages and pages of notes.

All the while Charlie stared across the chaos at him. Imploring.

However could Alastor deny her?

“Oh, yes indeedy, my dear,” he said. “Patience—you’ll see it soon enough.” Alastor deliberately raised a hand, ensuring she saw, tracked, and understood when he laid in atop Razzle’s head. His hand was now large enough to crush the beast’s skull, claws poised to sink into vulnerable flesh, a dark ooze sizzling like acid that crept from a crack in his wrist, edging dangerously close.

Throughout it all, Razzle purred.

***

The next morning Charlie woke to find a red note taped to her bed, delivered by shadows. Dazzle was the first to find and drop it into his mistress’ lap, producing happy yips as he caught her expression.

“We’ll win him over,” Charlie said, grinning as she re-pinned the note to her mirror.

Alastor had given her just one word of encouragement, accompanied by a sketch of two dead goat-dragons:

SMILE

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

In The Lonely Hour (10/10)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | AO3

Summary: A collection of canon-compliant(ish) one-shots that provide glimpses of Killian's life based on the album "In the Lonely Hour" by Sam Smith.

Latch What came (wink-wink) after the party at Granny's ended?

PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS CHAPTER IS MATURE/EXPLICIT.

Author Note: As mentioned at the end of the last update, this story will end happily so that you don't have to dig for the happy ending in the canon. You, dear reader, have endured enough. Thank you for coming along on this journey with me. This was, I'll admit, an odd little, pet project. But, it gave me a fantastic outlet on the days in which I was struggling to find the words for Witchy Woman or having a shite day at work - it has been a bloody trying year, love. I am going to miss this strange little series.

Emma had not stopped touching him since Regina stormed off from Granny’s Diner. When she wasn’t touching him her gaze was heavy on him, as physical a thing as the little brushes when she was near him and the warm hand she placed on his shoulder when she reached for an onion ring from his plate.

“Hook, are you…blushing?”

The dreamy haze that had settled around him since Emma had kissed him earlier in the evening cleared instantly. His attention snapped to Snow; her face was the very picture of innocence, but her eyes were dancing with a mischievousness of which he hadn't thought her capable.

He could not well say, "Your daughter covertly brushed her hand over my lap. When she caressed a certain aspect of my anatomy before pulling her hand away, I found suppressing my reaction to her boldness was difficult. It is my embarrassment at such a quick response to her ministrations that has heated my face, Your Majesty."

"Oh, look! Neal has finally drifted to sleep." Emma's voice was soft and dripping with adoration for the infant in Snow's arms. Killian could feel, more than hear, the laughter in her words that were so clearly - to him, anyway - said only to save him from answering Snow.

Snow dropped her interest in him immediately and pulled David from his conversation with Leroy to gather their belongings. They were out the door dramatically whispering goodbyes a moment later. The gathered court of townsfolk started to make their own exits with the naming ceremony seemingly at an end.

"Thank you, Love," Killian said as they left the diner, his arm wrapped around her waist as they walked. She dismissed his gratitude with a shrug that brought her closer to his side. Holding her tight, he directed their steps toward the docks. He didn't have a plan; he just couldn't let this evening come to an end so soon.

"Wrong way."

"I thought we could walk the docks before you returned home for the night, Swan."

"I'm not going home tonight." Emma held up a room key from the Inn with a suggestive smile that promised him all manner of things.

Raising an eyebrow, he tugged her into him so that her chest was pressed firmly against his, and he could show her exactly how much he liked the ideas floating through his mind at her offer. His voice was low and filled with dark desire when he asked, "Love, are you certain?"

She pressed her hips into him, his cock jerked at the contact, a groan rumbled through him, and she laughed, a wicked little laugh, at his responsiveness to her touch. She pushed herself up so their lips could touch, but caught his lower lip between her teeth. She'll kill me.

"Show me that I was right to stay," she challenged him.

"As you wish."

At last, they pushed open the door to their room for the night and he realised that he really was going to have Swan all to himself for the night. He bit his lower lip against the smile pulling at his lips at the unexpected outcome of this evening. Her eyes tracked the movement. When he released his lip and ran his tongue over his teeth, her gaze darkened with desire. He kicked the door closed behind him, his eyes locked on hers.

"You've been thinking about this, us. Haven't you, love?" He crossed to her, pulling her against him again - a feeling he was growing addicted to already. He kissed her deeply, pouring his need into each kiss, tasting her desire in return, as he slowly backed toward the bed. She pressed further into him, a whimper escaping her when he broke from their kiss to nip at her neck. Soothing the bite with a warm kiss, he continued, his voice low, "Ever since you pulled me into your beautiful, cruel, lips in Neverland."

"Lips that I saw every time I closed my eyes for the last year. Lips that I will never tire of kissing." He returned to kissing her, any response she may have formed lost to the demands his kiss issued.

The bed hit the back of his knees. He turned them so that her back was to the bed and he nudged her gently onto the bed. Kneeling before her, he pushed off her jacket. A sudden vulnerability entered her gaze and he gave her a questioning look, hand teasing the button of her shirt, as he waited for her confirmation to continue.

She shook her head; he stilled immediately.

Killian cautiously removed his from her shirt and sat back on his heels. Stay the night, anyway. The words were right there, reassurance that he only wanted her presence. He wasn't going to ask for anything more from her. He licked his lips to speak, but she let out a breath and pulled off her shirt - let me do this and you do all that, she gestured vaguely at his assemble.

He complied with quick efficiency, managing to disrobe before her. He was rewarded with time enough to watch as she wiggled out of her tight jeans, peeling her underthings off with them. She stood up, looking at his face as if searching for any indication that he was not absolutely entranced by the goddess before him. She could search for days and she’d still fail to find one.

“Even more stunning than I imagined.” When she glowed at his words giving him her rare full smile (she had likely realised he hadn’t exaggerated or lied), his heart soared - she was trusting him, giving him a small part of herself. He was suddenly desperate to hold her, to feel her skin against his, to know how she tasted, to hear every sound she would offer him, to know every perfect inch of her.

He closed the small space between them and tumbled her onto the bed with him. She let out a surprised laugh and rolled on top of him, her legs straddling his waist. He drank in the stunning sight above him and the comfortable weight of her on top of him.

“Everything you imagined, Hook?” She smirked with confidence that hadn’t been there moments before, confidence that he helped her find. He pulled her down to him; it had been too long since he’d tasted her lips on his. His thumb rubbed soothing circles on the back of her head as his fingers dug gently into her hair, clutching her close to him. He dragged his hook lightly along her back and she gasped into his mouth.

“You enjoyed that, did you?”

She rolled her hips, dragging her pussy along his shaft, his hips jerked up, providing friction for her. “Take what you need, Love,” he purred, before sucking her nipple into his mouth.

As she repeated the motion, with increasing pressure in each repetition, he scraped his teeth on the sensitive skin on her breast before teasing her nipple once more with his tongue. His hand was occupied with her other breast, rolling and pinching the nipple between his fingers. When her movements became more erratic and her breathing turned ragged, he flipped their positions and settled his head between her thighs. “Killian, wha-?”

“I need to taste you on my tongue, Swan,” he answered, his arms sliding under her hips and opening her up to him. His hook was heavy on her thigh, holding it in place, as he licked her dripping pussy with the flat of his tongue.

A satisfied mmm escaped him at the headiness that accompanied the first tangy taste of her. “Bloody delicious, bloody perfect,” he muttered into her centre.

He looked up at her answering moan - his name somewhere in that intoxicating sound- her eyes were closed and one hand reached down to fist his hair, pushing his head back down between her legs. He reached his hand up to her other one, gripping her tightly in his while he resumed licking and sucking her folds. She kept his head firmly in place, a demand to continue, as she began to ride his tongue, a sharp sweetness filling his senses.

“That’s it, love,” he encouraged as her movements became irregular again. Freeing his left arm from under her leg, he dipped his tongue into her core and provided her with the pressure she needed on her clit with the flat of his hook. She bucked hard against him, her creamy release on his tongue, and his name falling from her lips. She untangled her fingers from his hair as he softly sucked her pussy clean of her cum.

“Killian,” she whimpered, squirming away, sensitive after her orgasm. Killian pulled away from her, reluctantly, and dragged himself up to lie next to her. He rested his head on her chest, listening to the wild beat of her heart, enjoying the knowledge that he affected her so much. Her hand now playing gently with his hair as she basked in the pleasant haze following her orgasm.

“That was,” she breathed, “fuck, Killian. That was…”

“You were absolutely incredible, Love.” He wiggled his head, as if nestling further into her chest, and started to slowly, very lightly, drag the tip of his hook along the inside of her thighs, across her mound, and down the other thigh in a teasing pattern. After a few iterations, she slid her legs together capturing his hook for a moment, before relaxing her legs down again, a new slickness visible on her thigh.

“Look how eager you are.” He ran the back of his hook between her legs and lifted it up between them so they could both see the evidence of her desire on its surface, “so wet for me already, Swan.”

He shifted onto his elbows and slide his legs between hers. He kissed her again, hips gently moving his head against her slick entrance, the warm wetness coating him. “Love, may I -“

Emma wrapped her legs around his hips and slammed him into her tightness, they gasped in unison, and the warmth and wetness that enveloped him wrecked what remained of his control. Yes, Killian. He lifted her hips and continued hammering into her and she met him at every thrust. Killian, please, more. He tilted his hips, exploring new angles and depths with each stroke. Whatever you need, Love. Her inhale told him that he found what he sought and he focused his thrusts there. I-oh-Killy. He kept up the pace. You’re stunning. Demanding more. He lowered his hand between them, stimulating her clit with his thumb as he continued his deep strokes. I will give you everything, Emma, you only have to ask. Her walls tighten around him, squeezing him, his release following hers, as he watched her shattered, completely and openly, beneath him. “Go ahead, mo grá. I’ve got you.”

When he finally separated from her, rolling them so he could hold her close to him, he stilled. He realised the words that had slipped from him, words he’d never spoken to a woman - my love. It was unlikely this realm contained the same languages as the Enchanted Forest. It was unlikely that she would know the rare language that his mother had whispered for only him when he’d wake far into the night all those centuries ago.

Her head was heavy on his brace and her breathing had become soft and even, Killian smiled. She had fallen asleep, so quickly, wrapped up in his arms. He watched in awe- Emma Swan, the constructor of the most impenetrable walls, was curled up in his arms, sleeping peacefully, trusting him to keep her safe through the dark of the night. An honour bestowed on him that he didn’t deserve but would gladly accept any night she’d offer it to him.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and whispered into her hair, “Go ahead, mo grá. I’ve got you.”

[argentnoelle]

[fic] in memoriam ~ (It's a year after Gicheul's death. No one's dealing with it well.) [on ao3]

He and Euijeong still live in the same house, and since his promotion, Park Junmo works in Seoul just as his wife does. It is the same house, the same kitchen, the same green-patterned wallpaper like lilies or an open fan, and the pale wood floor which only shows the ghost of blood under luminol. He brings his own food and leaves it in the fridge, or takes some of the leftovers Euijeong has wrapped carefully in plastic; they don’t speak. She avoids the kitchen, padding every evening through the front door and the hall all the way back to their bedroom; he follows her once she can pretend to be asleep. It’s been a long time since he left his silver ring on the gravestone, a long time since she left her simple cross necklace, tied around the neck of a bouquet. She still wears the necklace Gicheul had given her later; the mocking flower-cut gems. And Junmo still wears the watch. 

He tries to be quiet as he walks with bare feet into the silent room, but Euijeong’s breathing is shallow and sleepless, and as the rustle of the covers over him break the silence, the mattress dipping under his weight, she says, “where… did you go today?”

Junmo looks toward the shadowed ceiling and not toward her. A spike of irritation rises in his gut. He could have gone further without hearing her voice. 

“You know where I went.”

He’d gotten there first this time; left a cigarette on the cold stone. He’d known she’d be arriving later with a grouping of flowers, delicate things that Gicheul would surely cherish just as he cherished her. 

“It’s been a year.”

“It’s been a year. So? You never wanted to fucking talk about it before, why now? You’ve been pretending he doesn’t exist for a year, and now you want to talk about him? Do you wish you’d died along with him? Eh?”

He sounds cruel. He is cruel. The words just pour out of him into the silence and he hears them echo. He had never wanted to be a husband who was cruel, but he’s long since lost the capacity for an innocent lie.

“Do you?” she says. Quiet. It must be easier for her. She’s not the one who pulled the trigger. She’s never asked him why he did it. Junmo has so many reasons. He was trying to save Gicheul from an eternity in hell. He hated his enemy for stealing away his wife. He couldn’t bear to let Gicheul have his way in anything, even this.

“Fuck. Euijeong, I can’t talk about this. Find someone else to bother with it—”

“Who else?”

Junmo lets out a ragged exhale. Who else indeed. 

He sits up. Rummages in the bedside drawer for his cigarettes and lighter. He can’t have this conversation without something else to focus on; the steadiness of nicotine into his lungs, the warm burn of smoke. He can feel her sitting up too, settling herself with her back against the headboard.

 “I think about him all the time,” Euijeong says. It’s a confession of only what he already expects. Junmo breathes out, curls his fingers around the wrapper in his hand. “Every time I come back here, it feels like he’s still waiting in the kitchen. Sometimes I think I’m going to turn my head, and I’ll see him—”

“He was dead the moment he came back here,” Junmo says. “He was going to run away with you. The bastard thought he could still fucking make it. His normal fucking life with a married cop—” he chokes on a laugh. “Did he want you to protect him? Was he going to wrap you up in that, too? Jung Gicheul. That motherfucking bastard.”

“I should have warned him not to come back for me,” Euijeong says.

Junmo takes another drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling into the still air in a heavy haze; he rests his elbows on his knees. “He would’ve come back anyway,” he says at last. “He never knew when to quit.”

Neither of them had. Junmo had seen the oncoming wreck but had still stone-eyed stared down the road with his foot on the accelerator. He’d win the race if it killed them both. He’d won. And it had killed Gicheul.

Now he has his high rank to keep him warm at night and the memories that won’t give him rest. He doesn’t care about the fucking kitchen. He can go there every evening and morning and eat at the table a foot from where Gicheul died and see nothing but pale wood and emptiness. But when he drives through the streets that the Gangnam Union used to patrol and turns his head, sometimes he thinks he catches a glimpse of a familiar gait, the fabric of a coat, a head turning in the crowd. He sees Gicheul’s ghost in the places where the man had lived, not where he’d died. 

He doesn’t know what it says if he sometimes sees his own doppelgänger too: Seungho, striding by his boss’s side, confident in the milling crowd, lighting up with a smile.

[on ao3]

[viola-ophelia]

TURN characters as folklore/evermore songs, because why the heck not? (lyric videos linked to each!)

abe woodhull: this is me trying 

look, i love to hate on abe, but i do think there’s some good in all his faults. he’s trying, throughout everything, to come into his own and do something for good, an admirable aim for someone so morally complex. it’s what makes him interesting to watch, and it’s what compels us to reluctantly root for him. 

anna strong: champagne problems   i’m imagining anna as the woman this song is being sung about, rather than the narrator. she’s often someone whose story gets told for her, but she has her own voice too, and she had her reasons for the hearts she broke. 

ben tallmadge: mad woman   i was initially tempted to give this song to anna, but let’s be real: ben is the angry person in the culper ring, not her. he’s constantly trying so hard to prove himself that it’s all too easy to turn that fire inward on himself. 

caleb brewster: long story short  caleb is the person who pretends he’s not living through a war until he can’t pretend anymore. but he’s also the person who picks himself back up after a fall and pushes on, and can laugh about it all in the end. 

mary woodhull: tolerate it  a bit of an obvious one, but still... ouch, i know. mary throws her whole identity into a failing relationship at the beginning, but ends up growing into her own anyway. like the song, she starts out pleading for a lost cause and ends up taking back her pride. 

john graves simcoe: no body, no crime  another obvious one haha. despite the pretty self-explanatory murder-y vibes of the song, i also think there’s a righteousness to simcoe’s character: he really believes he’s doing good, doing what he has to to defend his principles. 

abigail: mirrorball  abigail exists to please others, except she doesn’t have the option to do anything else, and therein lies the bitter unfairness of her situation. her kindness is often an obligation and not a choice, and god, i wish she could have saved some for herself.  

edmund hewlett: coney island  hewlett sustains himself on hope for so long that it’s a miracle he doesn’t snuff out when it comes crashing down. he’s left wondering where he went wrong, forced to find a new place in a world that never seemed built for him.

john andre: my tears ricochet of course the dead guy gets the song about a ghost lol. no, but really: andre is defined more by his memory than by himself, isn’t he? he tried so hard to make something out of himself, and he’s left with this legacy that belongs to the enemy, not to him. he can go anywhere he wants, just not home...  akinbode: cowboy like me  akinbode is always on the move, because he has no place to stay. but he wants more, wants to be at the helm of his own life for once: he named himself, chose his own lover, and has plans for after the war. this song feels like a love confession to abigail and also a goal of self-ownership. 

cicero: seven  we see cicero grow up along with the war, and lose his innocence along the way. he’s a boy still holding onto boyhood at first, and by the end he wants to join the cause he’s only just discovered. 

peggy shippen: illicit affairs  another obvious one, but it fits too well not to do it. peggy is ruined by her affair with andre, not just because she’s stuck in a loveless marriage with someone else, but because she knows now what consequences look like. she lost herself as she lost him, and worst of all, she did it willingly. 

george washington: epiphany  washington gets the 'indescribable horrors of war’ song because he is the war in a way, but there’s a current of hope there too. maybe horrors without hope are too great a burden for one man, or maybe america has never been without either. 

robert townsend: the lakes  the escapist, the denier, the one who never wanted any part in this: that’s robert townsend. he spends more time trying to get away from the war than he does finally accepting that he’s part of something bigger, but that understanding was there all along. otherwise, why fight it as hard as he did?  

richard woodhull: hoax  the magistrate continually defines himself by his disappointment: in his son, in his town, in everything. he makes judging his purpose as well as his profession, becoming so stuck in cynicism he just barely manages reconciliation before dying in the war that was happening all along, whether he liked it or not. 

[lya-dustin]

Me looking at all my wips: okay how about a one shot where Alicent gets her wish in the worst way and ends up getting Rhaenyra Harwin and the Strong Boys killed because she got Viserys to acknowledge they were bastards?

Anyways i love the tragedy that is Alicent and the be careful of what you wish for trope.

The Price

Gif by @sansaery-theonsa

Vw: horror, murder, death, ghosts

In a strange turn of events, Rhaenyra is punished for her adultery.

Before the Iron Throne are the severed heads of Ser Harwin Strong, Princess Rhaenyra and the three children.

Maegor had decreed no bastard shall hold the throne, and no royal woman may cuckold her husband and live.

The children were not to be spared.

Not even moon old Joffrey who Rhaenyra tried to smuggle out of the keep in a laundry basket.

This law is what forces Viserys’ hand and makes Aegon his heir to continue the natural order of things.

They are all made to swear their oaths to him, swearing to never rise against the king’s new heir.

When Viserys’ health takes a turn for the worse, Alicent becomes the last to know of his will.

Should he die before Aegon reache majority, Corlys Velaryon, Princess Rhaenys, Ser Laenor, Prince Daemon, Lady Jeyne Arryn, Lord Borros Baratheon, and Lord Stark will all serve as his regents along with the Lord Hand.

Seven Regents in honor of the Seven Who Are One.

Alicent is to be sent away to the Motherhouse in Oldtown and none of her children would be allowed to see her the moment he dies.

You got what you wanted, now you pay the price.

When Larys Strong kills his father for their cause, it is not her father who becomes Hand of the King.

The Seasnake wastes no time in recalling Prince Daemon and his wretched family.

Lady Laena Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys successfully turn the court against her.

Even her own children see her as a monster not knowing she did it for them.

It was Rhaenyra and her bastards or her children, a mother knows there is only one choice she could make.

This she tells herself as she sees the utter loathing in the eyes of her own children who had been bursting with life just a few moons ago.

I had to, the queen tells to the headless victims who haunt her every waking moment.

“Did we do the right thing, Ser Criston?” the queen asks as they watch her victory against Rhaenyra taste like ash in her mouth.

“I cannot answer you, your grace.” The knight answered, the friendship they had washed away by the blood in their hands.

The Kingsguard refused to take their heads, Ser Harrold pleaded with the king for the lives of the children at the least.

Ser Criston had turned away as the children cried for him to save them.

‘You didn’t tell me he would kill the children too!’ he had shouted at her with his eyes as they watched the execution with faces of stone.

The only one at court willing to act as an executioner had been a household guard sworn to her uncle.

The guard had been beaten to death by the smallfolk and goldcloaks alike that same night.

Once the people had loved her, Queen Alicent the Pious, they had called her.

Queen Alicent who was the Maiden reborn with a heart full of compassion like the Mother.

Now they call her Alicent the Cruel.

The wicked stepmother who made the good king kill his own daughter and grandchildren and a man who may have been innocent.

Was not Princess Rhaenys a Baratheon with a mother with hair as brown as the boys had had? Was not Ser Laenor brown of eye like his father and sons?

Didn’t their eggs hatch like the Targaryens they were?

And if they were guilty, why would the queen and her party refuse to spare the children and their mother?

They could have been sent away like Lucamore Strong’s bastards. Lyonel Strong could have taken them to Harrenhal with him and let them live.

This Aegon shouts at her when he begins to drink heavily knowing she did this to put him on the throne.

Aemond asks her if it was all his fault, that because he told her about the Pink Dread that his sister and his nephews were slaughtered before their eyes.

Helaena does not speak to her, speaks to her cousins and everyone else who is not Alicent.

They hate her.

Her children loathe her for what she did.

Why couldn’t they understand that she did this to protect them?

Why couldn’t they understand that for them to live they had to die?

Her father is proud, he has never been this proud of her since she can remember.

Who was this monster that sired her?

Why did he make her this way? Why couldn’t he have been a father and not the second son consumed by the green fire of greed?

“Exhausting, wasn't it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness, but now they see you as you are.” Rhaenyra’s ghost whispers softly in the mirror as she clutched her headless children.

“You would have done the same!” the queen lets herself be overcome by her new madness and punched the mirror to make it stop.

[waffletheorist]

So, I wrote a sort of prequel/backstory thing for Hero of Simulation, just adding to his character, how he came to be the way he is, different stages of his life and some description. Might rewrite first meeting later as well because I just got so many more ideas for him that I want to add, and because I'm on the creative high right now, so I may as well write as much as possible and improve it.

TW, implied suicide.

Content below the cut.

"The Hero? He's barely a month old!" The woman cried.

"I know it might come as a shock, but that is his destiny. That mark right there on his left hand proves it." The old man replied calmly.

"I don't care what some goddess-forsaken triangle birthmark says, I will not be sending my infant son out on a quest!" The heartbroken mother screamed, cradling her son, who had not made even the slightest sound during this whole ordeal.

"I apologise, but we have no choice in the matter. It is what he was born to do." The wizened sage said gently, not seeming sorry at all.

"No. I refuse to accept this. You sages can go find a new hero. I refuse to let you turn this innocent boy into a weapon for the world. Get a capable adult, not my child."

"But miss-"

"No. I will not accept any argument on this. My son will live his life, far away from all this hero business, you hear me?"

"But only he can-"

"No."

The women stormed out of the castle, infant son in her arms, the mark of the Triforce glowing weakly on his hand.

Days passed, and all the soldiers and knights of the kingdom were sent out to find the fleeing family. There were posters in every town, and the two had a bounty on their heads. There was no place for the desperate duo to hide, even short rests at inns were risky when anyone could be looking to collect their bounty. But they always persisted on their path, the woman determined to keep her child from harm. The mother told the young boy stories every night, of how the Triforce could grant any wish. He had always loved his stories, the same as her.

"Maybe that could keep you safe. That accursed triangle on your hand that binds you to your fate, saving you from it. A bit poetic, don't you think?"

The child just stared, the woman letting out a tinkling laugh.

But, the women had an idea now, and she wasn't going to give up on it. While the Triforce of Courage rested in her son, the other two pieces remained in the Sacred Realm, the door to which was in the Temple of Time. But no regular person could open the Sacred Realm, as only the one who the Master Sword deemed worthy would be able to raise it and open the gate. While the woman herself wasn't worthy, perhaps her son would be, despite his age and size. That was what those insane sages said, wasn't it?

So, the mother picked up her child, a look of guilt, grief and sadness briefly crossing her face for what she was planning to do. She donned the armour she had stolen off of the poor Hyrulean soldier who had been guarding the path to Death Mountain in order to disguise herself, and carefully placed her baby into her bag. She didn't have to worry about him crying, he had not made even a sound since the moment of his birth. Her small campsite in the Kakariko Village Well was no place to raise a child, and she knew that. So, when the sunlight finally stopped reflecting off the water, she climbed out into the night. It was a long walk to Castle Town across Hyrule Field, especially when you add factors such as her heavy armour, needing to check on her son, and her decreased physical ability due to the sleepless nights spent watching over the entrance to the well, making sure nobody would discover them. The gate to the town was closed at night, but she knew that with all of these combined, it would take her until morning to arrive anyway. So, she walked, straining and struggling the whole way, until morning arrived and she was at the gates. She took a brief rest to catch her breath, she might be caught if people saw her struggling when she was meant to be disguised as a soldier. Helm concealing her face, she finally entered Castle Town.

"Ey, soldier! You're meant to be stationed outside Death Mountain! And what's in that bag of yours?"

The woman almost jumped out of her skin, her heart skipping a beat for a moment when she heard this. She thought she was going to be stopped. Deepening her voice as much as she could, which wasn't much due to naturally being high pitched, she replied.

"Just delivering a message, sir, I've got someone covering my shift until I return."

"Alright then. But I better not catch you slacking off, you understand?"

"Understood, sir."

The woman almost breathed a sigh of relief, but quickly stifled it so as not to seem suspicious. It was early in the morning, and not many people were up and about this time of day, which made things easier for her. She advanced towards the Temple of Time, not once letting herself break character, and finally went inside, arriving at the Master Sword pedestal. She gently removed her infant from her bag, and placed his hands on the Master Sword. They were small. Too small for this large duty imposed upon him. He could barely even wrap his hands around the hilt, let alone raise the sword and kill with it. But, the child's touch was enough, and the blade allowed them both to lift it together. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"I knew there was something off about you. You're that woman the Royal Family is-"

The man was cut off, as the Sacred Realm opened, sending a beam of pure golden light upwards to tell the whole world. In front of them was an expanse of gold, bathed in the light of an eternal sunset. A beautiful realm. If this was the last thing she ever saw, she could die happily. She climbed the marble stairs in front of her, with her son, and almost as if he sensed what she was about to do, he cried for the first time, the Triforce glowing prominently on his small hand, begging to be reunited with its two other powerful and wise counterparts. Holding her son in one arm and the Master Sword in the other, she ascended to the top, and the Triforce was completed once again.

"Triforce, I wish upon you. Please, transport my son somewhere safe, far away from here, where he can grow up like a normal child. Please, let him live."

The Triforce glowed brightly, and the Sacred Realm changed around her as her son wailed and screamed. He was raised into the air, and in a flash of light, he disappeared, her wish granted. The woman was alone with the Master Sword and her thoughts. With one last laugh, she raised the sword high and pointed it towards herself, so that they would never be able to find out what she wished for.

Meanwhile, in the United Kingdom, an infant was found abandoned in a field, seemingly having just appeared out of thin air. Nobody knew where he had come from, and he was eventually adopted by two expecting parents who didn't mind having another child with them.

Hylia was watching all of this from above, and she was not pleased with the woman's wish. It irritated her that she could not go against the will of the Triforce, even if it was for such a noble reason as needing the child back to save the Kingdom. However, the woman had only wished that he be allowed to grow up, he could still become the hero eventually if Hylia bent the rules, and she knew that. For now though, she couldn't touch him and would have to hide her time. But how to prepare him for his eventual duty when this world has not a monster to speak of, and the art of fighting is rarely taught? For three days and three nights, Hylia watched over this strange world with its advanced technology, until she discovered videogames. She was intrigued by these small virtual worlds, and saw their potential in teaching the hero. Nintendo games in particular caught her eye, they were the most popular in this world, and for good reason too. So, Hylia travelled back to the past of that world to bring the story of Hyrule to Nintendo. The people of this land used strange number codes to keep track of the date, and according to Hylia's knowledge, it was 1984. With her influence, the Legend of Zelda series began development, named after her mortal reincarnation.

Link was now twelve years old, and his younger brother was eleven. His brother hadn't cared much for the Legend of Zelda, but after being introduced to it by his father, Link had always felt a strange connection to the world of Hyrule, beyond just sharing a name with the protagonist. Today was another boring day of classes for him. His hands absentmindedly drifted to his ears. They had always felt... wrong, somehow. There was nothing abnormal about them though. Every time he checked, there was nothing strange about them. But, that feeling of wrongness never went away. Sometimes, when he looked in the mirror, they would seem pointed, out of the corner of his eye, even though he knew that was impossible, and it was far more likely that he just had a few screws loose.

"Link, answer the question."

The teacher said impatiently. He hadn't been paying attention again. He quickly looked at the girl beside him to see what question they were on.

"The answer is 17."

"Correct. But pay better attention next time. You're smart, but that doesn't mean you can get away with being lazy."

'Yes it does.' Link thought, but he held his tongue, as always. He was a well-behaved student to a bit of a worrying degree, his mother actually payed him to get in trouble, although it backfired on her when he demanded money for not doing his chores. He just nodded along like he was listening. "Smart.", the teacher had said. It annoyed him. Every Friday, a student was selected and every other student had to write one good thing about them for mental health or something. For him, it was always just "smart", "intelligent", "good at math", "good at spelling", with the occasional "nice", "kind" or "pretty" from the students that just wrote the same thing for everyone. He had liked it at first, but it was getting repetitive, and at this point, it felt like a bit of an insult. What about everything else? He didn't like being known for his smarts, he had other defining qualities he wished people would talk about. Is his academic skill all he has? Despite not being blood related, his brother was the same, as a result of his competitiveness driving him to try and beat Link, although it never worked.

The bell rang, and Link got out of his seat and packed his bags in a hurry so he could leave quickly. He was often made a target by some of the more annoying students, since he never fought back out of fear of getting in trouble for defending himself, and because his long hair, petite size and more reserved personality gave them lots to pick on. Luckily, he made it out in time, and walked home. His days continued on in a similar manner to this one for many years, with only a few notable events, such as starting horse-riding lessons and briefly trying out different martial arts.

When he finally turned eighteen, he decided to get a tattoo of the Triforce on his left hand. He had been planning to do this for quite a while, with the only thing stopping him being the law and the common sense required not to break it and end up getting an infection or a low quality tattoo. While his hair wasn't as long as it had been when he was twelve years old and refused to cut his hair, it was still reasonably long now, a little below shoulder length at the back. He spent even more time indoors than he did before, researching and working harder than ever, while still leaving enough time for videogames and writing by sacrificing sleep.

He was alright with the way he was living, but something still felt off. There was something he was supposed to be doing, he just couldn't figure out what. He got a part-time job, the feeling didn't go away, he studied harder, the feeling didn't go away, he applied for university, the feeling didn't go away. No matter what, there was always that nagging feeling in the back of his mind, like he was forgetting something important. It had always been present, but now it was worsening. Every time he looked at his left hand, at the tattoo of the Triforce, it felt like it was trying to remind him of some long forgotten duty. Days were lost trying to figure out what was wrong, and he decided to go back to playing the Legend of Zelda games, his childhood favourites, and somehow, they seemed to dull the pain and stress even when nothing else did. He collected all the Golden Skulltulas, fused hundreds of Kinstones, found every Korok, and then did it again in speedrun form. Sometimes, he wrote theories as well, or streamed himself playing the games. He had a small following, but it was steadily growing larger as he became more of a known name in the community. Sharing a name with Link helped with that as well, it made him stand out.

After a year of this life, balancing his part-time jobs with his social media and online career, along with school, he lost more and more sleep and started getting burnt-out from all this work. But, on one late rainy night that he finally found out what he was missing.

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

Edddddd happy Friday how something for Alora x Solas 👀?? "Sharing a dessert" for maximum fluff (but bonus points for somehow also making it angsty lmfao) happy writing!

CHALLENGE ISSUED. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. CHALLENGE DESTROYED. Now weep and regret the choices you have made Niri.

For @dadrunkwriting

Rated G: Angst, ~1k words

A Plate For You | Exalted_Dawn

She felt him arrive before she heard him. 

The Fade always seemed to ripple with his presence nowadays, as if his very being was too big to hold even in a place like this. Alora choked down a hasty breath, steadying herself on her one arm against the food-laden banquet table. 

“There were more people here the first time,” she chuckled, the sound hollow and weak. “Enough that you couldn’t move without bumping someone’s shoulder.”

Her voice echoed in the now abandoned Main Hall of Skyhold, entirely empty of people save for two. His footsteps rang between every word, steady like a metronome as he drew closer. Closer. Painfully closer.

“...I wish you had been there to see it.” 

Too close.

His steps came to a sudden halt, just a few mere paces behind her. Alora felt like she was going to be sick.

“As do I, Vhenan.” 

Her hand balled into a fist, scrunching the pristine tablecloths in her clenched grasp. She knew this wasn’t real, but Alora thanked the Creators anyway that her back was turned to him then. This was the first time since leaving that he’d actually spoken to her. That he stood here like this, in that form. 

She didn’t want their first meeting like this to be through tears.

“I had saved some cake for you, you know. Me and Josie spent an hour picking out the flavors. I had hoped that maybe…” The thought of that fucking plate, clutched optimistically in her hands the entire evening, still haunted her dreams at times. As it was currently– but this was the first time in her memory that he was actually here to share it. “Well I guess better late than never.”

She stood– forced herself to stand– and moved down the line of tables, towards where she  remembered the dessert buffet to be. Metronome steps followed her like a ghost, always lingering just a few feet behind but never drawing too near. That was fine, she supposed. It was more than she had dared to hope for before.

Alora stopped in front of a veritable bounty of sweets, all laid out on perfectly polished trays, untouched and unspoiled by the wear of time. She could recall the flavor of each, traded at first through laughter and elation, and then through tears when the cakes had been placed before her. 

They sat innocent in front of her now, their delicate frills and sugar-sweet powder almost mocking in their sincerity. 

She picked up the platter and turned to face him.

Just like the desserts, time had not touched the gentle, freckle-kissed slopes of Solas’ face. But, then again, she supposed it never truly had. Just another thing she had failed to notice. But she took her time to look at him now, if only because she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get another chance.

He stood draped in golds and greys, a sun-white wolf pelt draped over one shoulder and his clothes tailored to suit every line of his body. There was once a time she would have laughed at the thought of seeing him in anything other than a simple, thread-bear tunic, but seeing him here like this– not just regal, but actually royal? It almost made things make sense. 

She stepped hesitantly, boldly closer and extended the plate for him to take one of his choosing. “I recommend avoiding the chocolatey-looking ones. They’re made with deep-mushroom and anise.”

For a single, heartbroken second, it seemed as though Solas had almost smiled. 

He closed the gap and plucked one from the polished silver– a small cube of butter cake, topped in raspberries and creme. Alora took one of the same– they had been her favorite of the flavors– but even as the crumbs fell from her fingers to the floor, she could not bring herself to eat it. 

“Please don’t leave.” Her eyes stayed glued to Solas out of fear that he’d vanish just for asking. 

He held the perfectly frosted treat in the crux of his palm, his jaw and fingers stiff but not tense. He’d been expecting this. “You know I cannot stay…”

“You can. You know you can,” she insisted lowly, too tired for desperation. “No matter how many times I have to eat cake alone, there will always be a plate here waiting for you.”

“Alora.” He reached out to touch her– to brush aside a strand of her hair, maybe– but before he could, she stepped back and away. Doing so broke her heart, but if she’d let him touch her now, it’d only shatter her completely when he inevitably left with the rising dawn.

She shook her head and smiled sadly. “Not here. Not like this.”

In his eyes, Alora could see the tempest of hurts– guilt, longing, sorrow and regret, but both of them knew that he would not take that final step to bridge the gap. His gaze fell into a cold, distant acceptance, and at last he dropped his hand.

Her head dipped in a grateful nod. “Then maybe next time. But until then, thank you for coming. I really did want to share these with you.”

“Yes,” His shoulders dipped, weighed by disappointment, but he lifted the small cake to his lips regardless,  “As did I.”

Alora smiled, truly smiled, and, closing her eyes, ate her piece of cake in one bite. The flavors were always more vivid in the Fade, but tonight the creme was especially sweet, and the berries especially tart. Like summer days and opened books and the gentle curve of a bow-lipped smirk. 

It was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted.

Tears slipped silently down her cheeks as she chewed and then swallowed that single, too-small bite of cake. If only it had lasted longer. If only she had savored it.

Then maybe.

But when she opened her eyes, Alora was alone in her bed once more.

[blueeyeswhitegarden]

Day 2: Kahyoreigetsu @arcvmonth

Out of all of the Braclet Girls, Yuzu is my favorite. I really like her determined spirit, her kindness and compassion. Her determination to protect You Show after losing to Masumi leads to her learning Fusion summoning from Sora, which makes them better friends and that hleads her into forming other strong connections with other characters like Serena and Yugo. I love Yuzu's friendship with Yuya. It's arguably the most important relationship in the series. It never felt like a one-sided friendship, but an important connection and support for both of them. That's a huge reason why both Yuya and Yuzu crying over their separation was so emotionally powerful. It felt like they had lost something important and struggled throughout the rest of the series to get back to each other. Even so, Yuzu has plenty of other noteworthy friendships in the series as well, such as with Sora and Yugo. She was willing to put herself in danger against the Obelisk Force during the Battle Royal just so that Serena could learn the truth from Shun. After her understandable emotional breakdown over realizing that she was stuck in Synchro with seemingly no way of getting back home to her loved ones, Yuzu still wanted to warn complete strangers about Academia and how they could potentially be caught in the crossfire of the war, even if she looked and sounded ridiculous in front of them. Even when she was dueling against Sergey, she was worried about his injuries and was trying to end the duel. Yuzu saved the world from Zarc twice, even if she was unaware of it the first time when the Dragon Boys nearly became one in Synchro, and she does not get nearly enough credit for that. I also like her pink pigtails with the blue hairbands and her season one school uniform is her best outfit.

I also really like Yuzu's Melodious deck. I've played with it for awhile in Duel Links, but it's a pretty fun archetype with some great designs. It's probably my favorite archetype among the female leads, especially when I have the most experience playing it with out the batch. I wish that it would get more support like Melodious Pendulum cards. I don't mind that they weren't featured in the show. In-universe, I think it would have been too impractical for Reiji to make Pendulum cards for Yuzu when they didn't know when they'd find her and he was already making Pendulum cards for almost every other Lancer anyway. I don't know why Konami hasn't made Melodious Pendulum cards since then though. Since a lot of her monsters' effects rely on being special summoned, Melodious Pendulum cards would make perfect sense, so hopefully they'll be made someday.

I really like Serena as well. She is confident and more aggressive than Yuzu, but she has a warrior's pride. She was so determined to prove her worth to the Professor, not realizing the truth behind the Dimensional War until she talked to Shun. One of my favorite moments for Serena is just her shocked reaction to hearing Shun's story. She was so set on joining the front lines for what she thought was this noble goal only to learn that everything she knew about Academia was a lie and that they had done so much harm to innocent people. She immediately wanted to fight against Academia and joined the Lancers, which just showed more of her honorable spirit. I like that her aggressive and confrontational attitude wasn't treated like a problem. It's typical for that to be considered more of a flaw among female characters, but that wasn't the case with Serena. She needed to understand that duels can be fun, which she did during her match against Yugo, but it never felt like Serena needed to change her more aggressive personality traits, which was really refreshing and appreciated. I also like Serena's purple hair with the blue highlight and red looks really good with her design as well.

While we don't get to see as much as Rin and Ruri, I thought that they both still worked well with both their roles and limited screentime in mind. Most of Rin's screentime comes from flashbacks from Yugo's perspective, but despite that, it still gives the audience enough insight into their relationship, still made them one of the more popular ships within the fanbase and showed a bit into Rin's own personality. She was smart enough to build a D-Wheel with Yugo and wanted to enter the Friendship Cup to defeat Jack. Rin's duel with Yugo was really good and emotional. I also like her regular outfit. The lighter shade of colors work really well with her design and especially her light green hair. Ruri comes off as a happy and gentle person in her flashbacks.  I liked what we saw of her relationship with Yuto. It was cute fluff and I love cute fluff. Even though they may not have known each other long prior to the Dimensional War, I liked how they seemed to instantly develop crushes on each other. Ruri might have my favorite design among the Bracele Girls, but purple is one of my favorite colors and I'm partial to long hair, so long purple hair would be appealing to me.

[villains4hire]

Sacrifice.

The chamber shaking, her chains rattling as her glazed eyes blinked to look around. It was a cold, desolate and messy place, as if in a ruined home left forgotten, yet she felt a familiar presence, "Who... who's there? Where... where am I? Hello? B...-Bolo? You're... dead, am I... Did they win- are they?"

Cutting her off as he floated in front of her in his mind form, "No, you're not dead and neither are they dead, I still am though, unfortunately, even if it matters little. But it's good you're responding, your coming to only confirms what I already knew as 'Little Cato' as you call him wasn't immediately destroyed when confronting you, you're still in here. That place, being your mind."

Grunting and panting slightly as she pulled herself upward like a lamb walking for the first time, and then forward as some of the chains snapped on her body, the void spawn now standing. "Alright, so we're doing this I guess. Then why the hell are you here? Wait... why is Little Cato here? He shouldn't be here, he should-."

Another shake of the room as she nearly stumbled yet again, the titan interrupting her once more, "I think it should be rather obvious why he's here, along with H.U.E, and Mooncake who graciously helped me inside into your mind after Mooncake was thrown into your face. But it's not just them, this entire plan hinges on you as well, Ash. Gary, Quinn, Sheryl, KVN, Biskit, Tribore and even Avocado also all believe in you as they're setting up to take down Invictus. As we don't have time to talk, what must be done is to free you from your father- Invictus's control. As for me? I'm just here to be your hype-man, yo."

Looking stunned as she held her arm, only processing they were trying to fight the impossible, "Tell... tell them to run, to hide. They're... wasting their time. I can feel it, I can feel myself changing already, Invictus is already on the verge of victory once I'm done. Besides, he'll give me the world I want anyway, they'll be included in it along with Fox, Clarence and even my old family, they don't have to forgive me for what I did to save them, but I won't make fucking excuses.... what I did was awful.... I... I just gave in when I knew they were going to all die from Final Space, I-, who's... who's that." Stopping in a shiver, Ash felt a sense of disgust at seeing the shaking, all too familiar voidling that was in the fetal position, taking shelter under a cardboard box roof, propped by sticks in the rain as the scenery changed to that of a desolate outskirt- yet another rumble would ring out in the room, as another chain broke from her moving closer, however.

"ASH! Please... come back to us, can you hear me? Please, just stop, we need you, I need you.... sis, I don't want this... I don't want this for you, please," Little Cato's breaking voice would echo in her mind along with Mooncake's noises, she could feel his and Mooncake's embrace, remembering the warmth and texture of the fur, and the scent of that stupid body spray he wore. Ash had stopped attacking him from what she could feel, there was a heated warmth trailing on her face from her eyes yet incoherent whispers and damned babbling was all she could muster- she could not see him through the void.

Bolo undeterred, now hovering to the shaking being, a hand placed on the head to which she responded at first in a tearful flinched aversion, but relaxed in the soft pet, the location changing as Ash looked around for a moment, she remembered, after she had lost her first family, "You're bad at lying, Ash. Not even you believe what you're saying other than giving in at the idea of your family dying- and do you really think that your family, let alone Little Cato would wish to live in a world such as that? You know they wouldn't listen to you, as you wear your heart on your sleeve. But you can't even recognize her now, can you? It's you, Ash. What you used to be. The innocence, the joy, everything that made you who you are before the seeds of corruption that were planted at your birth began to sprout upon your contact with Invictus as you spent years with him in his prison, yet time moving normally outside of it- all according to his plan. Yet the one part he so desperately tried to destroy, but only managed to bury as he split her from you. Even I didn't believe it at first, but there's something inside of you that he didn't account for though, it's the very reason he chose you to be his daughter, and the very reason why it can be his downfall- it's something that is unbreakable." Ash moving closer to herself as another, one chain on her arm broke, reaching out, she'd be interrupted by Bolo, however.

The spirit would block her path for a moment to avoid her touching her previous self, "Wait. You must know this, or you will fail. The moment you accept her back as a part of yourself, you can never go back, that for us to win- you must lose. You will endure a pain and test of will that even I cannot overcome or dare wish on my greatest enemy, and if you fail? You will become the monster Invictus wishes you to be... and even if you succeed? You will face a fate worse than death afterward, you will be destined to eventually become like the great corrupter, yet an insane, dribbling shell of a beast in eternal agony should you never come out of it, and it's why I offer to you even in the face of annihilation: a way out, I can pull your spirit from your body. You will die, and while Gary would still have a slim chance? It'd buy us more time... I will only offer this once-" Without hesitation, Ash went aside to grip her old self.

A subtle smile from Bolo, "I do not blame you, to reject who you are is what evil does, it twists, it changes everything about you to suit its purpose. You will never be the same, but what was once lost has been reclaimed. But brace yourself, for now we shall see if the faith that was put in you was worth it!"

"I'm... I'm sorry, I won't leave you behind again," she muttered as they comforted Ash's old self that would cease shaking as that singular eye closed, fusing into herself as her hair grew on one side, her new eye where it used to be missing turned to that of the void when she used her powers, yet simply remained that way now- she had been made whole again, on both sides. Yet before she could even acknowledge the changes, her prison reacted as countless flowing energies of the void and purplish glow would assault her as it threatened to consume her very being. Yet the chains would break, and she felt herself faltering even as she stood- it wasn't enough as she cried out in echoing, distorted screams to Bolo for the overwhelming power, "I- I CAN'T.... I CAN'T DO IT ALONE, BOLO! IT'S TOO MUCH!"

Yet with a sudden support through the mindscape as ripples threatened to rip her very soul apart, a familiar feeling, all too many supporting her reaching out to hold her up as they could, Bolo calling out to her, "Ash... I never said I came alone! Remember everyone who you hold dear, remember why you're struggling. Why you fight against the choking darkness! Why you stand even now when so many others have fallen! Why you cannot lose, why you can't afford to lose!"

Three hands, two big, one small she had nearly forgotten, only remembering their scent, their warmth as the chains began to break further as she began to steady herself as the screaming from her stopped.

"Remember every life he's taken from you, from everyone you love. Every lie he's ever told, how he ripped your family apart from warping you since the day you were born as his child!" the titan continued.

Then a fatherly old voice she could never forget, that scrunkly con-man, "You didn't think you'd get rid of me that easy, did you? But I've got you!"

And several more snaps as she began to focus as she reached with what she saw were claws as she began to tear, the flooding torrent of corruption that threatened to drown her in all of it as the titan roared in encouragement.

"I got you, keep going, kiddo," another voice, that mature, intelligent yet loving calm tone as she felt a thick-glove help her up.

Bolo a beacon of clarity in the thick of it all, "YES, THAT'S IT, ASH! Remember everything you've given to protect your family, remember how you broke your body, how you sundered your very mind, how you risk your very soul itself to endless damnation, but laugh in the face of it all- REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE, ASH GRAVEN!"

The first warp of her mind broken through as she sped through the chasing darkness toward a light at the end of the tunnel, it was threatening to tear at her heels to drag her back down. Chuckling into laughter as he kept alongside her, the Titan himself had gained hope. Yet her movements were starting to give out, her mind was breaking as that speed upward shot out like a shooting star in pitch black of it all, yet her mind that was beginning to fail as it tried to surround her, like a light in the dawn beaming across the horizon.

"KEEP GOING! YOU'RE ALMOST THERE! NOW SHOW HIM! Show him why his arrogance will be his downfall, that WE ARE to show him why you're his weapon, his HARBINGER of DESTRUCTION and just how RIGHT HE IS! Show not just him, but me, your family and the entire universe and far beyond the power that you wield like a razor honed edge that so many fear even considering, that even I tremble to how you burn through universes with ease, using it as a weapon that even Invictus himself fears wielding to which he will never understand but has made so many before him wield it in his place like the weak coward he is: FOR ALL HE CAN DO IS TAKE! WHY YOU, OF ALL PEOPLE, KNOW IT BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT WEAPON IS, ASH GRAVEN, INHERITOR OF THE VOID?"

And there it was, the threat of giving out becoming reality as the pitch black threatened to overwhelm to consume her as eyes closed, reacting, ready to struggle as she pushed, yet all of a sudden with a steady, strong, all too familiar grip, a smiling face looking down at her, that goofy loving voice- Ash's eyes shooting open in tears.

"Go get him."

The words like an echoing clarity as a triumphant, inhuman roar erupted from the void spawn as the darkness vanquished against her as Bolo boomed calmly with glowing eyes as he stayed behind, the veil shattering as she struck through it all like a lightning bolt, freeing herself from her binds.

"Sacrifice."

Instinctively pushing Little Cato, Mooncake, and H.U.E dropping the web of the ancients ones to veil their presence as he went after them in space. A ripple across the universe tore as everything, everyone fell silent, even Invictus as he was too late to turn to even face the fury that hit him like a hurricane, a torrent of void, purplish energy slamming him like a spear as he cried out in booming, great agony as Ash's form strained. Her body mutating partially through the strained cascading energy beam wider than several worlds as an eldritch scream of rage tore through the abomination, not letting up as she ignored the cries of Mooncake, Little Cato to stop from what was destroying her as her skin began to crack in purple, ominous glowing energy as a blinding light swept throughout the galaxies and span of countless universes as space itself bent, melted and threatened to give out.

And it was done as she succumbed, coughing up blood as her eldritch nature began to rapidly recover her as she drifted in the dead of space. Gary had used the weapon he needed with the opening as Ash twitched and convulsed as the trio that came for her rushed toward her- the rest was up to him and Sheryl it seemed.