#like claiming to love something yet letting it wither and die...

[snekdood]

ik we talk about "karma" in the sense of "whatever you do will come back to bite you", but in a more realistic sense it just means action. every action has a reaction, etc. which is why its incorrect to blame your god/gods for the way you're mistreated in life bc 1. everyone has free-will and 2. they dont have control over the wheel of karma (at least not in hinduism), so when you're mistreated, you shouldn't ask "what have I done to accrue karma in the form of mistreatment" you should ask "why do these people suck so much", lol. it's not your god/gods punishing you, its other people exercising their free will and choosing to use it in a way that makes them suck as human beings 🤷 dont let people get off the hook by blaming the gods or some sort of nebulous "karma" you cant pin down, blame the people for being pieces of shits, dont let them think they're not actors in this and are just dutifully mistreating you on behalf of the laws of karma, bc they aren't, thats not how karma fucking works.

[glitch-but-ya]

The echo of who I once was. II

"Let your memory of me fade with time" II

TAGS: Mentions of violence and death, dysphoria, mental health struggles.

WORD COUNT: 2,543 words Tag list: @withering-dream , @moonlight-inthe-sea A/N: For better understanding, I’d recommend reading Sylus’s anecdotes.

PART 1 PART 3

!THIS STORY IS HEAVILY DEPENDENT ON "BEYOND CLOUDFALL" AND MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS!

Memories are both a curse and a blessing, don’t you think? That which gives us strength to push through the darkest parts of our lives can also be the one to drive us to the very edge of the cliff. The weight of them feels like a chain coiled around your throat, binding you to your past. Neither of us can escape destiny. But still, I wonder what would happen if neither of our memories were restored. Would you love me then? Or was I destined to never be yours?

Sylus didn’t know the answer. He kept reading.

When you told me that you loved me, I felt happy. I know how mundane that sounds. But when you said that I was yours, I felt as if my life suddenly had purpose. All my years of hardship had led me to you, and I was content. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was worth something—worth someone’s attention, worth living for. That’s why I couldn’t let you go—I couldn’t let go of the chance to live. I’m sorry.

He knows.

My selfishness, combined with this newfound sense of euphoria, led me to cling to you desperately and overwhelm you with my presence. I completely overlooked the obvious hints you threw at me occasionally, all because I wanted to believe that you loved me. I was scared. I thought that if I were to take notice, you’d abandon me, and I’d lose you. This is not an excuse, but simply an explanation. Whether you forgive me or not, well… I wouldn’t know anyway.

Sylus took a sip from his glass.

I don’t expect us to meet again.

He doesn’t either.

And that’s why, I want to tell you everything, so I can leave without regrets. Forgive me. This is the last selfish act I’ll perform.

Sylus set the envelope down, sealing it back with admirable precision. He threw his head back against the headboard and sighed. He couldn’t believe he let the aether core slip away. And he couldn't believe he couldn't find it in himself to reshape you into another form. In every possibility, you'd come around eventually. So why did he feel as helpless as a sculptor standing before his own crumbling statue? A part of him knew that you couldn't be changed. You loathed your former self, he could tell.

And to add to his frustration, he simply did not have time for this. He was due to a ‘business’ trip within the N109 zone—his presence was required at a seemingly ordinary auction trafficking illegal protocores. The leader of Onychinus was a busy man, after all. How could he let emotions overwhelm him when so much in his life depended on his nonchalance? He was a fool for thinking he could reform you. He had mistaken you for gold. Unfortunately, as softhearted as you were, you couldn’t be molten and hammered into what he wanted you to be. But he couldn’t deny that it was also partially his fault because he knew.

‘Please kill me.’

From the moment he used his aether core to listen in on your desires, he knew that you’d already lost what made you his sorceress. The heart that once yearned for bloodshed and vengeance was now reduced to a blubbering mess, waiting for the day it’d stop beating. The voices that once wished to claim his authority were replaced by a feeble, pitiful voice. You were weak and untainted, like the humans he hunted down for a couple of gold to add to his collection. And yet, a part of him held on. He didn’t know what it was. Denial, he assumed. The inability to accept that his beloved was no more. Or perhaps it was the guilt of injustice being done upon you. He had barely scratched the surface of your desires, after all. Perhaps there was more that lay beyond your wish to die. But whatever it was, it wasn’t her. Listening to your voice for longer wouldn’t bring her back. Even so, letting you go wasn’t the wisest choice either.

After all, his relationship with you served two purposes: love (formerly) and the aether core. Now, he’d lost the chance to claim both. All because he let his emotions take hold. Sylus felt pathetic. And for the first time, he doubted his own abilities. He was torn between the choice of taking the leap and bringing you back, and staying on the other end of the crumbling bridge to wait and see how things would unfold from here. The chance of another aether core existing on this planet was slim.

But not entirely impossible.

Sylus’s form loomed over the city below, his crimson eyes gazing into its depths. Lights dotted the cityscape in irregular patterns. A full moon hung proudly in the sky, almost as if welcoming his arrival. There was a crow perched on his shoulder. The crow had ruby eyes, quite similar to his own. Behind him stood two smaller, masked men, ready to obey his orders. A familiar wind howled past them—a dry breeze lacking warmth and life, carrying nothing but dust, reminiscent of the way you had hollowed out something within him. He stood, eyeing the crowds below. Not long after, he raised his head, gazing at the sky awash in hues of red. This auction was an incubator for human desires—greed, gluttony, and lust.

“Is everything ready?”

“Yes, boss!”, they chanted in unison. A slight smirk tugged at Sylus’s lips. Of course, he wouldn’t have attended such a low-class auction if something hadn’t caught his watchful eye. This time, what appeared was exactly what he sought. A valuable gem, a treasure eclipsing the finest of its kind—a certain aether core had been passed around insignificant auctions under the guise of an ordinary protocore. It had caught the attention of several other corporations, excluding his own. This time, the stakes were high, and failure could have severe consequences. He could lose everything. But did it really matter anymore? The only reason for his stay in this world was you. If he simply wished, he could start over on a planet far from yours, where he could live his life as a relentless conqueror, unbothered and undisturbed by your curse.

Sylus's hand unconsciously traveled to his eye—the very eye 'you' wished to claim so dearly. He grazed it with his fingers.

Sylus... I curse your soul...

He clenched his eyes shut.

Only I can grant you a true death.

He knew that the aether core in your heart wasn't the only one of its kind aside from his own. Surely, there existed another one somewhere across the cosmos. But that was the problem. Throughout the endless tapestry of planets, universes, and possibilities, where would he search? And amidst the legion of life forms across worlds, how could he be sure that his sovereignty surpassed all others? Earth was, by far, the easiest land to graze. So he couldn’t let go of this opportunity. Not yet.

If it were him a few months ago, the mere idea of leaving Earth would have torn him apart. But now, if the aether core slipped from his grasp, he would wander aimlessly until he caught wind of a new sighting. Perhaps, it was all a grand scheme of his own to escape you. Sylus had never fled from anything before.

His hands gripped the railing. It wasn’t the time to daydream. There was an opening laid out for him in plain sight. One rightfully timed strike and the aether core was his. His gaze scrutinized the large building before him, where the auction would take place.

Your words both held him back and urged him forward. A lovesick side of him cried out, begging him to open his eyes and try to understand the changes that had occurred. But his wrath would not let him. How dare you? After all these years of searching, after all the sacrifices he'd made, after all the pain he had endured in your place—how dare you betray him like this? Eventually, one arose triumphant. Very well, then. If you were going to leave, then so be it. He would let you have your way.

Taking a sharp breath, Sylus descended.

A sigh escaped your lips. You eyed yourself in the bathroom mirror, your hair falling like a veil over your face. Tracing the dips and curves of your body, you felt alien to yourself—flawed, unfamiliar. The incessant drip of water trickling down played monotonously in the background of your thoughts. You felt flawed. You couldn’t recognize yourself in the mirror.

Your hand shot out. Your fingers caressed your own figure, who stared back at you. "Who was I before this?" you whispered, your head tilting slightly. "You were me, weren't you? Then why…" Your hand stilled. The finger pressed down on the reflection of your face with increasing pressure. "I hate you. So why do I wish to be you?"

That night, you couldn’t squeeze in even a second of sleep. Something within you ached. You didn’t know if it was the wrathful throb in your head or the melancholic sting in your heart. Every time you shut your eyes, a figure emerged from the darkness. A white-haired woman with scarlet eyes and sharp features. She looked nothing like you. The mere sight of her formed a lump in your chest. Her face radiated mock cruelty and greed, like a simmering pot of rotting wine; disgusting and bubbling. Her form was hauntingly elegant, almost ethereal—if not for the maggots writhing beneath her skin. An ever-present source of desire seethed from within her soul. It stank like the decaying flesh of a dead rabbit. Her soul reeked of the miserable fixations of humanity, the same delusions that transformed humans into harbingers of destruction. She was the type to bring death upon those she deemed unworthy, to burn whoever she pleased, and to warm the few who stood by her side. She was like a blazing, crackling fire that emerged from a hearth set alight by its own gluttony and greed. She was utterly human. There was no other word to describe it. She was exactly who you loathed: an usurper wrapped in a cloak of fragile beauty.

She didn’t just occupy your sleep. Even at work, you found yourself subconsciously drawn to the thought: How could she ever be you? You couldn’t fathom it. Even in a past life, the thought of yourself turning out like her seemed inconceivably alien. You figured that if there were a past incarnation of you, she would resonate with you as if she were an extension of yourself. But every time you lingered on her memory, you felt increasingly isolated. The harder you tried to reach out, the further she drifted—like a small boat being pushed farther from a warship. The larger ship's mighty waves pushed the boat farther and farther, no matter how desperately the boat rowed toward it. Although, the main concern was staying afloat. Your main concern should’ve been the aether core. Wasn’t that why you stayed? Was it truly because of love, and not the opportunity to extract information about the aether core from Sylus? You couldn’t believe yourself. For a moment, you wondered, how could you let the aether core slip away?

Your grip on your desk tightened, your knuckles turning white. The voices around you blurred into one until the only thing you could hear were the whispers of your own destructive mind spitting venom into your ears. Captain Jenna’s voice diminished in importance, and you found yourself focusing more on the thought of her.

After experiencing the dream of your past, her sight plagued your mind. Sometimes, she was clad in jewels (all while she reeked of greed). Other times, she was driving the greatsword into the dragon's chest. You couldn’t deny that if she hadn’t fought back, she probably wouldn’t have lived long enough to become the dragon's beloved. Whereas you would’ve been killed taking a different approach. You are grateful for her unwavering will to live, and you are grateful that she brought Sylus into your life.

But what you could never forgive was the image of herself she carved into his heart. The powerful ‘sorceress’ feared by all, the young dragon fledgling whose horns had just begun to sprout—how he could worship that, you wondered. She was just a weaker version of himself. Perhaps she possessed something you couldn’t see. Either way, what was the point of lingering on this matter? There’s no use in assigning blame. No matter how ferociously you loathe her, she will always occupy his heart. Revenge has no purpose. It only initiates endless suffering and a cycle of inflicting pain. All you could do was move on with your life. You weren’t going to meet him again, anyway. Or so you thought.

"And you will be going to the N109 zone," Captain Jenna began, breaking your trance with a simple sentence and jolting you awake. "Any queries?" she concluded. You weren’t sure how you looked. Looking back, you probably should’ve asked Tara to hold a mirror to your face. You must’ve looked aggravatingly stupid. Like an imbecile who had just hopped into the wrong room. Perhaps Sylus's talk about "destiny" and "fate" wasn’t just to sound wise and philosophical. You were seriously wondering how fate could’ve stabbed you in the back like this. Your vow to Sylus would be broken due to a silly mission. How comical.

But you couldn’t just accept this, of course. So, after the meeting had ended, you walked into Jenna’s office.

"There is nobody more capable of pulling off this mission than you." Fate must really be playing games with you, huh? "But, Captain…" you opened your mouth to protest, but were quickly silenced by Jenna’s sharp gaze. "You’ve been to the N109 zone, haven’t you? And you came back alive. This isn’t just any mission—it’s critical. We need someone who can handle the pressure. Someone familiar with the dangers." Her gaze scanned your form. "This mission is not only dangerous but extremely vital. That is why I will be pairing you with Xavier. Only the two of you can execute this mission flawlessly." You tilted your head curiously. You zoned out during the meeting, so you could only assume it was something related to the aether core. What else could be so vital as to require the best hunter on board? But if Xavier is with you, perhaps you can find an excuse to steer clear of Sylus. Not that you expect him to show himself to you openly, but letting him know that you’re here with a hunter only accentuates that you are here strictly for business. Although you don’t want Xavier to be caught up in this, this mission may lead you to crucial knowledge about your very own aether core. You looked down and placed a hand where your heart would be. You couldn’t let this chance slip away.

"So, I believe the two of you won’t disappoint," the Captain said, turning to you, her chin raised high. You immediately straightened your posture and cleared your throat. "Yes, ma’am."

Hello!! I wanted to say: thank you so much for your votes regarding the previous fic! Although I’d intended to keep it as an ‘angst-with-no-comfort’ oneshot, I decided against it due to some people commenting on how a part two would be great (I couldn’t resist writing the story anyway. I had a plan for it in my head beforehand which I’d intended to keep to myself. The comments only fuelled that desire further). I do hope this doesn’t end up becoming a major flop. I apologize for the time it took to write this much. I’ve been very busy lately; unfortunately, I do not see myself having free time in the future either. But I’ll try my best to keep up with this! Oh, and, for the people who want to keep viewing the initial ending as it was, you can! I understand that some people may not be happy with this series. So, you are free to interpret it as you wish! I had multiple endings planned for this anyway. And, YES! The title of the series has officially been changed.

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 7.4k

Epilogue

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt @dedicated2viktor

"When the rest of the world won't have you, I will. Let your worries and insecurities die against my lips. Remember, you are welcome here. You are always, always welcome here." - Maxwell Diawuoh

Masterlist

“Mommy,” the little girl said as her mother tucked her into bed. “Can you tell me the story of Miláček and Viktor tonight?”

Her mother smiled, seating herself on the side of the girl’s bed, her fingers trailing across her daughter’s cheek. “Of course, sweetheart.” 

The girl leaned into her mother’s touch, and she began. “A long, long time ago, the goddess Miláček was a mortal woman with extraordinary but uncontrollable magic. It is said that she came from another universe, and the strength of her love for Viktor drew her across space and time to be with him.” 

“How did she love him if she didn’t know him yet?” The little girl interrupted. 

Her mother chuckled. “Some things are just meant to be.” 

When her daughter remained silent, she continued. “Their love was a force that transcended words, pure and unbreakable. But as their love grew, Viktor got sick and his body began to weaken and wither away. Despite Miláček’s ability to see the future and her powerful magic, she was unable to stop his decline. In a fit of desperation, they turned to dark forces to ensure he would live. It cost them the life of a dear friend and left them unprepared for an attack that would start a war between the upper and lower cities - nearly claiming Miláček’s life. As she had been desperate to save him, so was he to save her. He brought her to a man renowned for his barbaric practices, and she lived at the cost of her sanity.”

“Fleeing together, they carved out a home in the far reaches of the lower city. With Viktor's newfound powers, they found some semblance of happiness as he used his abilities to heal those who sought his help. But the high price of harnessing dark forces to keep Viktor alive began to take its toll. He became corrupted by their power and if left unchecked, would have brought about the destruction of the world in his relentless pursuit of perfection.”

“Viktor had transformed into something unrecognizable; the Machine Herald. In this new form, he left Miláček behind, consumed by his obsession with ridding the world of choice and eradicating emotion to achieve a false sense of peace. But Miláček refused to give up on him. Though he was too far gone in this plane, she could absorb the arcane, and willingly gave up her life to save him in death.” 

“She became the goddess of the afterlife,” the little girl said smugly, pleased that she knew that key fact. 

“That she did.” Her mother stroked her hair. “With the arcane power that she absorbed, she was able to save Viktor’s soul and create an afterlife for all the other lost souls stuck in the nothingness that was death. One day, she’ll bring your soul to rest there as well.”

The girl frowned, disliking the idea of death at all, even if it was peaceful. “What about the bad people? When they die do they go there too?” 

Her mother nodded. “Even the bad people, everyone gets a chance to atone and rest, but only if they are willing.”

*~*~*

What had started as a small group had grown at an exponential rate. Souls started to gather at your sanctuary and you expanded, growing more land and homes for them to stay in. You felt their presence like a million pinpricks of light, each soul a unique constellation in your ever-expanding universe. Your consciousness stretched across the sanctuary, a vast network of awareness that allowed you to peer into every nook and cranny. You saw the newly arrived souls, wide-eyed and trembling, as they took their first steps into this strange new world. You heard the laughter of those who had found peace, their joy rippling through the air like a summer breeze.

But not all was serene. In the eastern quarter, a heated argument erupted between two souls over a trivial matter. You gently nudged their thoughts, soothing their anger and reminding them of the sanctuary's purpose. The conflict dissipated like morning mist under the sun.

At the borders, you sensed a dark, roiling presence - a soul so twisted by hatred and fear that it would poison everything around it. With a heavy heart, you reinforced the boundaries, denying it entry. Some souls were beyond your help, at least for now.

In the misty forests to the north, you felt a faint, confused energy. A lost soul, unable to find its way. You reached out, your essence forming a glowing path that only they could see, guiding them home.

Near the tranquil lake, an ancient soul flickered weakly, its sense of self barely a whisper. You enveloped it in warmth, offering a choice. The soul's relief was barefaced as it chose to let go, merging with the roots of an old willow tree. Its contentment hummed through the leaves, a soft lullaby for the younger souls nearby. There had been many souls who’d met a similar fate, to old to remember who they were, more than happy to become one with nature, to find peace.

It was as easy to you as breathing, all tasks able to be accomplished simultaneously without conscious thought. It allowed you to stay you, to focus on those you cared for most - your main consciousness remained with your loved ones. You didn't perceive them as pinpricks of light or constellations like the other souls, but as the flesh-and-blood people you remembered.

“Ah, Mila?” Vander’s gruff voice spoke up from behind you. You turned to him, his brows furrowed and his lips set in a thin line. “Do you have a minute?” 

It was strange to see him like this after weeks of swimming through his emotions and knowing him as a half-beast half-man creature. He was so…normal, in comparison. 

You nodded once and turned back to Sky, your game of tik-tac-toe half-finished in the dirt. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay?” 

Sky smiled at you, inclining her head. “You know where to find me.” 

You followed Vander to the shade of a towering silver tree, its leaves shimmering like liquid moonlight in the gentle breeze. The bark was smooth and cool to the touch, almost metallic in texture. As you leaned against it, you felt a faint hum of energy coursing through the trunk.

Vander cleared his throat, his weathered hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. The movement was so uncharacteristic of the usually stoic man that it had you feeling wary. But you waited, giving him time to gather his thoughts.

“I have no right to ask you this after everything you’ve done for us,” he started, his fists clenching at his sides, “but I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“This is about Silco, right?” You’d been wondering when he’d come up, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it too.

Vander nodded, jaw tight. “As much as I hate what he did to Zaun and…my daughters,” a sore spot for him, you could feel it rolling off him in waves of anger, “he never gave up on our dream; independence for our home. And he raised Powder. While I disagree with his methods, he treated her like one of his own when I couldn’t be there for her.” 

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “You’ve got enough on your plate and I don’t want to add more, but he’s just…floating out there. Knowing him he’s miserable and blaming himself for everything. We all made mistakes in the war with Piltover, and I blame myself for turning him away. I’d like to right that wrong, if you’d allow it.” 

“You’d like me to bring his soul here?” 

“I would be responsible for him,” Vander added, “like I said, you’re busy enough.”

“Well, there are no weapons here, or Shimmer, and even if there were it’s not like he could kill anybody,” you said consideringly. “Sure, why not? I’ll go find his soul and set you two up with a private space. You’ll be able to come and go as you please but he won’t until you feel he’s ready to be out among the rest of us. And if you need any help I’m here, I’m not as busy as I look.”

Vander’s face softened, hope filling his eyes as the tension eased from his shoulders. “Really? Just like that?”

You grinned, wide and all-knowing, your hair floating around you. “I’ve actually been thinking about it for a while. Everyone deserves a chance at redemption, if they want it. And I saw what he meant to you, how much your fight weighs on you. I want you to be able to rest knowing you did everything you could to reach him.” 

"Thank you," Vander said, his voice thick. "You don't know what this means to me."

You reached out, placing a hand on Vander's shoulder. For a fleeting second, you caught a glimpse of the tangled web of relationships that defined Vander's life - threads of gold linking him to his adopted children, a frayed but unbroken cord stretching towards Silco.

"I'll begin the search immediately," you assured him, and you weren’t one to break a promise.

Despite initial doubts, Silco's progress surpassed all expectations. In what would have been a few months in Runeterra time, he ventured out amongst the other souls, closely monitored by Vander. Each small step taken settled a long-tormented piece of Vander's soul, bringing a sense of peace that he never would have rested otherwise.

*~*~*

“Who else is with Miláček and Viktor?” The girl asked, though she already knew the answer. Whether she was delaying her bedtime or honestly interested in hearing the story remained to be seen. 

Her mother would indulge her, for now. “The friend they lost in their attempts to save Viktor’s life was a guiding force for Miláček, and she joined them in the afterlife.”

*~*~*

You found Sky lounging by a pond, her toes dipping into the water that sparkled like liquid starlight. As you approached, she looked up with a smile that could outshine the sun.

"There you are! I was starting to think you'd forgotten about our rendezvous," Sky teased, patting the soft grass beside her.

You settled down, your legs tucked beneath you. "As if I could ever forget you," you replied, bumping her shoulder playfully.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching as fish darted through the water, leaving trails of glowing bubbles behind them.

Sky leaned back on her elbows, her wild curls catching the light. "You know, I never thought the afterlife would be so...peaceful. I always imagined it'd be one big party, celebrate for eternity and all that."

You laughed. "Who says it can't be both?" With a wave of your hand, upbeat music began to play, seemingly emanating from nowhere and everywhere.

Sky's eyes widened in delight. "Show-off," she said, but her grin betrayed her amusement. She stood up, offering you her hand. "Care to dance, oh mighty goddess of the afterlife?"

You took her hand, allowing her to pull you to your feet. As you began to sway to the music, your feet barely touching the ground, you felt a surge of joy. It had been so long since you'd allowed yourself this simple pleasure, to just be in the moment with a friend.

"I missed this," you admitted. "I missed you."

Sky's grin softened. "I missed you too, Mila." She spun you around, your laughter mingling with the music. "But we're here now, together. And we've got all of eternity to catch up."

*~*~*

“There was also their friend who died ending the war. He and Viktor had been in conflict in life, but in death, they mended those bridges.” 

*~*~*

Once Jayce had been ready, weeks after they had settled, he’d joined Viktor for what must have been days as they hashed out their issues. While you didn’t listen in, you had an awareness of their conversation, there was only so much privacy you could give when their existence was tied to your consciousness. They spoke of the past, of the rift that had grown between them. Their words flowed like a stream, sometimes rushing and turbulent, other times slow and contemplative. All streams inevitably come to an end, and understanding bloomed between them like the wildflowers at their feet. You felt the shift in the air, the easing of tension, and you knew they would be alright.

Of course, Jayce jumped right back into being himself. As soon as he returned, arm slung around Viktor’s shoulders, he’d insisted you and Sky join them at a campfire. Though surprised that Viktor had agreed, you were remiss to miss an opportunity to spend time with your friends - like how it had been before everything went to shit.

You gathered around the crackling fire, its warm glow casting shifting shadows across your face. Jayce had insisted on building it himself, regaling you with tales of camping trips with his mother as he expertly stacked the logs. The flames licked at the evening sky, sending sparks spiralling upward to join the ever-present stars.

Viktor sat beside you, his legs stretched out before him. On your other side, Sky lounged on a bed of impossibly soft moss that seemed to have sprouted just for her comfort. Jayce stood nearby, proudly surveying his handiwork, before settling down to complete your circle.

"I must admit," Viktor said. "I never thought I'd find myself enjoying something as…primitive as a campfire. The Undercity had garbage bin fires, but I would hardly count that as an enjoyable experience."

Jayce chuckled, reaching for a long stick to poke at the embers. "There's something primal about fire, something that speaks to the soul."

"Or maybe," Sky interjected with a mischievous grin, "you just like playing with sticks and pretending to be useful."

You laughed as Jayce feigned offence, clutching his chest dramatically. The banter flowed easily between them, years of tension and misunderstanding washed away by the healing waters of the afterlife.

As the night deepened, you found yourself leaning against Viktor, his arm draped comfortably around your waist. Sky regaled you with increasingly outlandish stories of her adventures in the sanctuary, each tale more impossible than the last - you would be sure to check on the cavern filled with massive bats, no good could come of that. Jayce, not to be outdone, countered with his own exaggerated exploits.

This was what you had fought for, what you had sacrificed everything to create - a place where souls could find rest, where old wounds could heal, and where love could flourish unbound by the constraints of mortality.

As if sensing your thoughts, Viktor squeezed your hip gently. You turned to meet his gaze, seeing in his eyes the same contentment that filled your heart. No words were needed; in that look, you shared a lifetime of understanding.

*~*~*

“And then there was Miláček’s mother. Though her soul had been scattered to the far reaches of the universe when Viktor, in his conquest, burned her soul out of her body, Miláček never stopped looking.”

“Did she find her mommy?” The girl asked, clutching her sheets tight to her chest. To be without her mother was simply unthinkable. 

Her mother placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “She did.”

*~*~*

Not everything was perfect, getting used to your abilities had taken time and had caused many a headache as you learned how to shut out the thoughts and feelings of thousands of souls. Viktor was still healing, he had good days where he’d spend time with Jayce as they worked on numerous projects for your corner of the afterlife, or hours spent laying in the grass together, peacefully watching the clouds go by. There were also bad days where he’d shut himself inside, be unable to look you in the eyes, become withdrawn. But you were there for him, and you gave him space when that was what he needed instead. It would take him time to heal and you were more than willing to give that to him.

As soon as you’d gotten a grasp on your new powers, you’d set out in search of the pieces of Charlotte’s soul. You searched tirelessly, but Charlotte's soul fragments eluded you, too small and scattered to pinpoint. As you probed the furthest reaches of your domain, you stumbled upon a flickering presence - a tiny soul, lost and alone.

You drew closer, your ethereal form coalescing around the frightened soul. It was a child - a little girl with large, curious eyes and messy brown hair. Her essence quivered like a candle flame in the wind. You enveloped her gently, whispering soothing thoughts as you guided her back to the heart of your sanctuary.

As you materialized before her, the girl's eyes widened in wonder. "Who are you?" she asked, her hands held close to her chest.

You knelt down to her height, smiling softly to reassure her you were a friend. "I am the guardian of this place," you replied. "A sanctuary for lost souls. But you may call me Mila. It's wonderful to finally meet you, Elowen."

"You know my name," she whispered, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "Are you…are you an angel?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Not quite. But I'm here to help. I’m…friends with your mother."

Elowen's gaze darted around, taking in the misty forests and glimmering lakes of your realm. "You know my mama? Where is she? I tried to find her but she was gone and I was all alone. Is she mad at me?"

"No,” you said with a gentle resolution, “she is not mad at you. If she could be here she would, but that’s what I need your help with. I'm searching for her, Elowen. Her soul has been scattered."

The girl's eyes lit up, hope blooming across her face like the first rays of dawn. "Really? I can help? How?"

"Your connection to your mother is strong. It's a beacon that can guide me to her. Will you let me use that bond?"

Elowen nodded eagerly, her small frame practically vibrating with excitement. "Yes! Please, I want to find Mama."

As you linked your consciousness to hers, you felt a surge of emotion - love, longing, and a fierce determination that belied her young age. Through her eyes, you caught glimpses of Charlotte - a warm smile, gentle hands braiding Elowen's hair, the sound of laughter and quiet humming echoing through a lamp-lit kitchen.

These memories were like breadcrumbs, leading you down a path you couldn't see before. You sensed the first fragile thread of Charlotte's soul, humming with a familiar energy.

"I can feel her," you murmured, your form pulsing with renewed purpose. "I'm going to find your mother, I can sense her now, thanks to you."

"I'm coming with you!" she declared, her small hands balling into fists at her sides.

You shook your head, your essence rippling with concern. "It's too dangerous, Elowen. The journey will take me to the farthest reaches of this realm and beyond. You need to stay here where it's safe."

Tears welled up in Elowen's eyes, her lower lip trembling. "But she's my mama! I want to help!"

Your heart ached at her distress, but you couldn't risk her safety. An idea sparked in your mind, and you gently took her hand. "Come with me. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

You guided Elowen through the sanctuary, the ground beneath your feet shifting and changing with each step. As you approached a sunlit clearing, you spotted who you were looking for.

Isha sat cross-legged in the grass, her hair adorned with small blue flowers. Before her, a makeshift arena of twigs and leaves housed two large beetles, their shells glinting in the soft light.

"Isha," you called to her. The girl looked up, breaking into a wide grin when she saw you. "This is Elowen. Would you mind if she joined you for a while?"

Elowen clung to your side, her earlier bravado fading in the face of meeting someone new. Isha, however, was undeterred. She waved enthusiastically, beckoning you closer.

You gently nudged the hesitant girl forward. "Isha, can you show Elowen your game while I'm gone?"

Isha nodded vigorously, her smile wide and welcoming. She jumped to her feet and extended her hand to Elowen.

Elowen glanced back at you uncertainly, but you gave her an encouraging nod. "Go on," you urged. "I'll be back before you know it."

Elowen hesitated for a moment longer before Isha darted forward, grasping her hand. She tugged Elowen towards the makeshift arena, already demonstrating the rules of her bug tournament.

As you watched Elowen's reluctance melt away, replaced by curiosity and the beginnings of a smile, you knew she was in good hands. With a final glance at the two girls, now huddled over the beetle arena, you had one more stop before you set off on your quest.

You found Viktor in a secluded glade, reclining against a gnarled oak tree with his eyes closed. You crept forward, barely disturbing the grass beneath you. With a mischievous grin, you prepared to materialize and surprise him.

But as you slipped into your corporeal form and reached for his shoulders, Viktor's eyes fluttered open. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. "I knew you were there," he said, warm with affection.

You pouted, your planned surprise foiled. "How? I was being so sneaky."

Viktor chuckled, reaching up to cup your cheeks. "Your presence is unmistakable, miláčku. I could never miss it."

He pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You melted into him, giggling against his mouth. You could kiss him a thousand times and never tire of it. But as you pulled away, the reminder of your impending journey settled over you like a heavy woollen cloak.

"I found Elowen, and I used her connection to her mother to feel Charlotte's soul," you said, watching him carefully for his reaction. "I'm going to find her, to bring her back."

Viktor's body tensed, his eyes clouding with a familiar guilt. You took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Come with me. This is your chance to make things right."

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I…I don't know if I can face her after what I did."

You held his chin in your fingers, lifting his face to meet your eyes. "Viktor, you've carried this burden for so long. Charlotte wouldn't want that. She'd want you to help her come home."

He took a shaky breath, squeezing your hand. "You're right," he said softly. "I owe it to her to try. To face the consequences of my actions."

"We'll do this together," you promised. "Every step of the way."

As you prepared to set off, Viktor's determination seemed to grow. He straightened his back, his chin lifting with resolve. You didn’t necessarily need him to go with you, you would be fine on your own, but he needed it - needed to feel part of the solution so that his guilt would stop eating him alive.

You and Viktor set off on your journey, your bodies shifting to their ethereal forms. Viktor glowed with the light blue of your magic, and you grew until he became an orb in the palm of your hand. Your skin melded with the darkness of space, your hair becoming the stars themselves.

As you traversed the far corners of the celestial landscape, you encountered wonders beyond imagination. Nebulae bloomed like tropical flowers, their swirling gases glittering with hues of violet, emerald, and gold. You passed through the heart of a dying star, its final pulses of energy washing over you in waves of a bittersweet goodbye. Comets streaked by, leaving trails of fire that scorched your fingertips.

You followed the tenuous threads of Charlotte's soul, each fragment a faint beacon calling out across the vastness of space. You found the first nestled in the core of a nascent planet, reaching through rock and debris to pull the shard free.

“It's…beautiful,” Viktor spoke for the first time since leaving the sanctuary, full of awe and reverence.

You nodded, carefully transferring the fragment to him. "Hold onto it for me. We'll need to gather them all."

Viktor's glowing form pulsed in surprise as the shard rested at his centre. "Are you positive I should be the one to carry them? I am the reason she is like this in the first place."

You pulled his form up to your lips, placing a light kiss against the glowing light of his soul. "I trust you, Viktor. Completely."

He didn't speak, but his grip on the soul shard tightened ever so slightly, a silent promise to guard it with his life.

You ventured on, collecting more fragments from the most unlikely of places. One shard spun within a storm of glittering sand, another floated in a pool on a desert planet.

Finally, after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, you collected the final shard from the corona of a distant sun. As Viktor carefully added it to the collection he carried, the shards began to resonate, humming with renewed energy.

Exhausted but triumphant, you returned to the sanctuary, shrinking down to a more manageable size. Viktor's orb expanded, taking on his familiar shape once more. The shards of Charlotte's soul hovered between you, pulsing with a soft, iridescent light in the shaded glade.

With reverent care, you gathered the fragments in your hands. They felt warm, almost alive, as if they recognized your touch. You closed your eyes, focusing your energy on knitting the pieces back together. The shards trembled, edges reaching out tentatively towards one another like shy dancers at a ball.

But something was wrong. The fragments refused to fully merge, repelling each other at the last moment like misaligned magnets. You furrowed your brow, redoubling your efforts. Sweat beaded on your forehead as you poured more power into the process, willing the soul to become whole again.

The shards spun faster. For a heart-stopping moment, you thought you'd succeeded. But then, with a sound like shattering glass, they flew apart. You stumbled back, chest heaving, as the fragments settled into a loose orbit around you.

"Damn it," you grumbled, frustrated beyond measure. To have gotten her back at long last only to fail at the final step…

You tried again, and again, each attempt more forceful than the last. But no matter how much energy you expended, the result was always the same - a brief flicker of hope, followed by bitter disappointment that coated the back of your tongue like bile.

Viktor watched silently, his face twisted with concern. As you slumped to the ground after your latest failed attempt, he knelt beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Perhaps," he said hesitantly, "there's something we're missing. A catalyst of sorts."

You looked up at him, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

Viktor's brow furrowed in thought. "The soul fragments, they're like puzzle pieces without a picture to guide them. They've forgotten how they fit together." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "What if they need something to remind them of their true form? Something to…glue the broken pieces back together?"

You pondered his words, your mind racing through possibilities. "Elowen," you breathed, the realization striking you like a bolt of lightning. "Of course! Her daughter - the strongest connection to who Charlotte truly is."

You jumped to your feet. "Stay here with the soul fragments," you instructed Viktor. "I'll go get Elowen."

You found the girl where you'd left her, still playing with Isha by the beetle arena. Her laughter rang out across the clearing, a sound of pure, uncomplicated joy.

You called out to Elowen as you made your way over, your voice carrying on the light breeze. She looked up from the beetle arena and a smile spread across her face, brighter than the midday sun as she scrambled to her feet.

Isha's face fell, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. You knelt beside her. "Don't worry, Isha," you said as soft as dandelion fluff. "I promise I'll bring Elowen back soon. You two can finish your tournament then."

Isha perked up at your words, her smile returning. She nodded eagerly, already planning new games for when Elowen returned.

You turned to Elowen. "I found your mom," you said, watching as hope bloomed in her eyes. "But she needs your help to put her back together."

Confusion wrinkled Elowen's forehead, her head tilting to the side like a curious sparrow. "Put her back together?" she asked.

You nodded, offering her your hand. "It's a bit complicated, but I know you can do it. Are you ready to see her?"

Elowen's small hand slipped into yours, her grip firm and resolute. "I'm ready," she declared, chin lifted high.

You led her back through the sanctuary, the trees whispering secrets as you passed, their leaves rustling in a language only they understood. Your realm responded to you, an extension of your soul that had grown its consciousness.

As you approached the glade where Viktor waited, Elowen tensed beside you. Her eyes locked onto the unfamiliar figure, wariness replacing her earlier excitement.

"It's alright," you soothed, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "This is Viktor. He's a friend who's been helping me find your mom."

Viktor stood frozen, his soul flickering with a storm of emotions only you could see. Guilt, hope, and fear swirled within him. His gaze locked onto Elowen, his past sins settling heavily upon his shoulders.

To Viktor, Elowen was a living reminder of what he had stolen - a child robbed of her mother because of his actions. The pain in his eyes was almost tangible, a counterpoint to the soft, pulsing light of Charlotte's soul fragments that spun beside him.

Elowen looked between you and Viktor as she tried to make sense of the stranger who you’d introduced as a friend. "Hello," she said cautiously, looking to you for approval. You smiled, nodding your encouragement.

Viktor swallowed hard and then inclined his head in greeting. "Hello, Elowen. It’s a pleasure to meet you."

You guided Elowen closer, watching as her eyes widened in wonder at the sight of the glowing shards. But before you could explain what they were, Elowen gasped, her small hands reaching out towards the fragments. "Mama!" she cried, tears welling up in her eyes. The soul pieces pulsed brighter at her exclamation, as if responding to her cry.

Your heart clenched at the raw longing in Elowen's voice. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention. "Elowen," you said softly, "your mama needs your help. She needs to be reminded of who she is." You knelt beside her, your eyes level with hers. "Can you tell us stories about her? About the times you spent together? It will help bring her back."

Elowen nodded eagerly, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. "Mama used to sing to me every night. Even when we couldn’t make dinner, she'd hold me close and hum my favourite songs."

As she spoke, the shards pulsed brighter, their movements becoming more coordinated. You nodded encouragingly, and Elowen continued.

She told of Charlotte working long hours in the factories, coming home with hands stained black from machine oil but still finding the energy to play hide-and-seek in their tiny one-room apartment. Of weeds they kept in plant boxes on the window sill, the only things that would grow in the toxic air.

She recounted how Charlotte would skip meals, claiming she wasn't hungry so that Elowen could have a little more, even though Elowen knew better. How she'd fashion dolls out of scraps of fabric and buttons, bringing joy from cast-off remnants.

With each story, the soul fragments drew closer, their light growing more intense. Your magic guided them, urged them to form, but it was Elowen who sealed them together.

"And then," Elowen said, her eyes shining, "there was the day Mama found that old book of fairy tales. She'd read me a different story every night. She did all the voices, even the scary ones!"

At those words, the fragments suddenly rushed together, merging in a blinding flash of light. You shielded your eyes, heart pounding in your throat.

As the glow faded, you saw her - Charlotte - whole and radiant, her form shimmering into solidity, her arm returned, looking younger than you’d ever known her. Her auburn hair fell in waves to her shoulders, matching Elowen’s. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to wonder as she took in her surroundings.

Then her gaze fell on Elowen.

Charlotte's breath caught in her throat, her hands flying to her mouth. "Elowen?" she whispered, disbelief and hope warring in her voice. "My baby?"

Elowen let out a cry of pure joy, launching herself into her mother's arms. "Mama!"

Charlotte caught her daughter, wrapping her in a tight hug. Tears streamed down her face as she buried her nose into Elowen's hair, breathing in the scent of her child. "Oh, my sweet girl," she sobbed, rocking gently. "My precious, precious girl."

A lump formed in your throat as you witnessed the reunion, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. You stood behind Charlotte, your magic fading to simmer in the background.

Charlotte pulled back slightly, her hands cupping Elowen's face. "How is this possible?" she asked. "You’re just the same as I remember, my love. How long has it been?"

Elowen pointed behind Charlotte and the older woman turned, her gaze falling on you. Your breath hitched, a tangle of emotions too complex to pull apart rendering you speechless. You opened your mouth, but no words came out - just a choked sob of relief.

"Oh, you wonderful, silly girl," Charlotte said, thick with gratitude. "Get over here."

She reached out, drawing you into the hug. You fell into it willingly as you joined the tangle of arms and tears. Charlotte's grip was strong, anchoring you as surely as it did Elowen.

"Thank you," Charlotte whispered, her words muffled against your shoulder. "Thank you for bringing my Elowen back to me. For bringing me back to her."

You couldn't speak, too overwhelmed for words. Instead, you poured your feelings into the hug, your essence wrapping around mother and daughter like a protective shield.

As you held each other, time seemed to lose all meaning. It could have been minutes or hours before Charlotte finally loosened her grip, pulling back just enough to look at you and Elowen properly. Her eyes shone with tears, but her smile was brilliant.

"Look at you," she said. "You've changed so much, my dear. You're radiant." Her fingers traced the starlight in your hair, sending tiny sparks dancing across your skin. "It's like you've become part of the universe itself."

You smiled, an ache blooming in your chest. "I've missed you so much, Charlotte," you whispered, unable to bring yourself to speak any louder.

Charlotte's eyes crinkled with understanding. "We have time now," she assured you, her hand squeezing yours gently as she gazed adoringly at the little girl still clinging to her chest. "All the time in the world."

A flicker of movement caught your eye, and you turned, searching for Viktor. But the spot where he had stood was empty. Your heart sank, a frown tugging at your lips. After everything, had he run away?

Charlotte followed your gaze, her eyes softening. "Ah," she said quietly. "He needs time, I think. This can't be easy for him."

You blinked in surprise, turning back to Charlotte. "You know?"

She nodded, a forlorn smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I remember bits and pieces. Enough to understand." She squeezed your hand again. "Tell him I'm here, when he's ready to talk. There's forgiveness to be found, if he's willing to seek it."

Relief washed over you. “Thank you.” you smiled softly. "I will."

*~*~*

Her mother glanced at the clock, it was well after her daughter should have gone to sleep. But what was the harm in indulging her curiosity just this once? “Did you know that she’s also the Goddess of Reunions?”

The little girl's eyes widened at this new piece of information. “She is?”

“She reunites souls after death who’d known each other in life. Mothers and daughters, friends, sisters, everyone with a connection are guided to each other.”

*~*~*

You kept a watchful eye on the souls entering your realm, always alert for familiar presences. Time had continued, and you had no idea how long it had been since you lived, but when you felt a distinctive energy crackling at the edges of your consciousness - chaotic, vibrant, and unmistakably Jinx - you reached out, gently guiding her towards the sanctuary.

As Jinx materialized, you noticed the tension in her shoulders, and the wariness in her eyes. She scanned her surroundings, fingers twitching as if reaching for weapons that were no longer there.

"Welcome, Jinx," you said, shimmering into view before her. "You're safe here."

Jinx's gaze snapped to you, recognition dawning in her eyes. "Mila? That glowy lady who blew herself up for the metal fortune cookie?" Is that how people remembered you? "What is this place? Where's-"

But before she could finish her question, a blur of motion caught your attention. Isha came bounding across the meadow, her face alight with joy. She skidded to a stop in front of Jinx, her hands moving in a flurry of excited gestures.

Jinx's eyes widened, her lips parting in disbelief. For a moment, she stood frozen, her gaze locked onto Isha's beaming face. Then, with a choked sob, Jinx fell to her knees, her arms wrapping around Isha and pulling her in for a rib-cracking hug.

"You're here," Jinx whispered, her voice cracking. "You're really here."

Isha nodded vigorously, her small hands patting Jinx's back. You felt a surge of emotion from Jinx - a tidal wave of grief, guilt, and overwhelming relief that pulled at her heart like a fishing hook. Her body shook with silent sobs as she clung to Isha, her face buried in the girl's wild hair - twin braids and died blue.

You stood back, giving them space.

A deep voice called out from behind you, rich and thick as he swallowed his hope-tinged sorrow. "Powder."

Jinx stilled, her body going rigid. Slowly, she turned, her eyes locking onto the imposing figure of Vander as he approached. Time seemed to stand still as they regarded each other, years of pain and regret hanging heavy between them.

Then, with a choked sob, Jinx - arms still wrapped tight around Isha - launched herself against Vander’s chest, crushing the little girl between them, though she didn’t seem to mind. He caught her easily, enveloping her in a bear hug that lifted her off her feet. Jinx clung to him, her face buried in his chest as her shoulders shook with silent tears.

"I'm sorry," she cried, her voice muffled. "I'm so sorry."

Vander's large hand cradled the back of her head, his eyes glistening. "Shh, it's alright," he soothed. "You're home now, Powder. You're home."

*~*~*

The little girl yawned, her eyelids fluttering as she fought to stay awake. “She has Viktor and all her friends, do you think she’s happy now?” 

“Yes,” her mother replied, a knowing smile on her lips. “I believe she is.”

Silence filled the small room, the nightlight casting stars on the ceiling. Just as her mother thought her asleep, shifting to stand, the girl asked one more question.

“Do goddesses sleep?”

Her mother paused, having been unprepared to provide that answer. “Everyone sleeps eventually,” she said. “Even curious little girls.”

The girl giggled, her mother placing one last kiss on her forehead before wishing her a goodnight, and departing from her room.

*~*~*

You stood atop a grassy hill, your hand clasped in Viktor's as you gazed out over the ever-expanding sanctuary. The sky above shimmered with countless stars, each one a soul finding peace in your realm.

"It's time, isn't it?" Viktor asked softly, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. "Yes, I think it is."

For eons, you had watched over the souls in your care, guiding them, comforting them, reuniting them with loved ones. You had witnessed countless joys and sorrows, rebirths and un-deaths, forgiveness and redemption. Everyone else had become one with the land, only you and Viktor remained. Now, a bone-deep weariness had settled into your soul. The weight of eternity pressed down on you, and you knew in the depths of your soul, it was time to rest.

Viktor squeezed your hand, his eyes reflecting the starlight above. "One last day," he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Let's make it count."

You spent the day wandering through your realm, revisiting all the places that held special meaning for you both. You walked beneath the cascading light of the Aurora Falls, your laughter echoing off the clear waters. You ate your favourite lunches in the Whispering Woods, where the trees sang ancient melodies as you passed.

As the day wore on, you found yourselves in the Meadow of Memories. Flowers of every colour stretched as far as the eye could see, each bloom holding the essence of a cherished moment. You and Viktor lay side by side in the soft grass, watching as the petals released glowing specks that danced on the breeze. Your sparks spun around them, carrying whispers of laughter, tears, and everything in between.

Viktor propped himself up on one elbow, his amber eyes searching yours. "Do you have any regrets?"

You reached up, cupping his cheek in your palm. How many times had he asked you this? And how many times had you given him the same answer?

"Not a single one."

As twilight fell, you followed a narrow path that wound its way to a cliff face at the very edge of your realm. You gazed out at the vast expanse of the universe, an empty sea where there had once been countless souls. Now, they were all housed within your sanctuary.

You turned to Viktor, drinking in the sight of him one last time - the angular lines of his jaw, the warmth in his amber eyes, the gentle smile that had never ceased to make your heart flutter through countless ages.

"Are you ready?" you asked, almost afraid, but with Viktor, that feeling washed away under his devotion.

Viktor nodded, pulling you close. "When I’m with you? Always."

You leaned in, your lips meeting Viktor's in a kiss that felt both familiar and thrillingly new. His arms encircled you, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepened. It was every moment of joy, every hardship overcome, every whispered promise and tender touch shared over endless lifetimes.

Viktor's hand cupped the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your starlit hair. You felt the gentle scrape of his nails on your scalp, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. Time seemed to slow, each second stretching into eternity as you lost yourself in the feeling of him.

Your bodies began to shimmer, intertwining like threads of starlight. The boundaries between you blurred, two souls merging into one radiant being.

Together, you stepped off the cliff's edge. But instead of falling, you floated, your combined energy spreading outward like ripples in a cosmic pond. Your consciousness expanded, suffusing every blade of grass, every drop of water, every piece of starlight in your sanctuary.

You became the whisper of wind, the crash of waves against the shores. You were the heat of the eternal sun and the cool glow of the ever-present moon. Every flower in the Meadow of Memories held a fragment of your shared love, every star in the sky a spark of your combined spirit.

As your energies settled into the fabric of the realm, you felt a profound sense of peace wash over you. The weight of godhood lifted, replaced by the simple joy of existence. You were everywhere and nowhere, eternally present yet finally at rest.

A small part of your consciousness lingered, a gentle guardian watching over the souls in your care. You felt their joys and sorrows, their triumphs and struggles, but no longer as separate entities. They were a part of you now, and you a part of them.

You and Viktor found your final peace, forever entwined in the sanctuary you had created. Your love story had become legend, whispered by the winds and sung by the stars, a tale of the power of forgiveness, redemption, and a love that transcended life, death, and eternity itself.

But most important of all, you were together, always and forever, and nothing could pull you apart.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope this answered any lingering questions <3

I debated with giving them a Janet and Jason (from the Good Place) ending, but that was too sad, even for me :')

[onegayastronaut]

Where Love Waits (Agatha Harkness x Rio)

Angst, but a good ending lmao

Words: 1079

Agatha Harkness wasn’t the sort of person to let her guard down easily. Centuries of living as a witch in a world that feared her kind had taught her better. But with Rio, she’d found something unexpected: trust, love, and a fleeting sense of peace. It was an odd pairing, people often said. Agatha, the immortal witch whose power thrummed in her veins like a constant heartbeat, and Rio, the enigmatic and eternally composed personification of Death. Yet, they worked. Or so it seemed.

Their son, Nicky, had been the unexpected joy of their lives. A child forged of magic and a bond deeper than life or death itself. He had Rio’s piercing gaze, dark and infinite as a starless night, and Agatha’s sharp wit, quick and cutting like the crack of a spell. From the moment he was born, Nicky was their everything, the glue that cemented their already unbreakable connection.

It was a quiet day when it happened. The kind of day that lulls you into a false sense of security. Agatha had been teaching Nicky to levitate small objects in the garden, while Rio watched from the porch, an amused smile playing on her lips. The sun was warm, the air filled with the scent of lavender and sage. Everything felt… right.

Nicky had tripped, a harmless stumble that should have been nothing more than a momentary scare. But in that instant, the threads of fate twisted cruelly. Agatha saw it happen as though in slow motion: the way Nicky fell, the sharp edge of the stone he struck his head on, the unnatural stillness that followed. She’d screamed his name, rushing to his side, her magic already surging to heal him. But it was too late.

Rio was already there, kneeling beside their son with an expression Agatha couldn’t bear to read. It was a look of resignation, of inevitability. The look of someone who had seen this countless times before and knew there was no stopping it. Agatha’s magic clashed against Rio’s presence, desperate and futile. She screamed at Rio, begged her to do something, to change it, to break the rules she had always claimed were unbreakable.

“I can’t,” Rio said, her voice soft but unyielding. “You know I can’t.”

The days that followed were a blur of grief and rage. Agatha’s once orderly home became a chaotic mess of overturned furniture and shattered glass. The air crackled with the remnants of her uncontrolled magic, and the garden withered under the weight of her despair. She couldn’t look at Rio without feeling a tidal wave of anger rise within her.

“You could have stopped it,” she spat one evening, her voice venomous. “You’re Death. You decide who lives and who dies. And you let our son die.”

Rio stood in the doorway, her usual calm demeanor marred by the faintest hint of sorrow. “It’s not that simple, Agatha. I don’t choose. I—”

“Don’t you dare give me your rules and your balance bullshit,” Agatha interrupted, her eyes blazing. “He was a child. Our child. You could have done something.”

“And what would you have me do?” Rio’s voice rose for the first time, sharp and cutting. “Defy the natural order? Tear apart the fabric of existence because you can’t accept that sometimes even we aren’t in control?”

Agatha’s laugh was bitter. “Spare me your cosmic wisdom. You’re Death, Rio. If anyone could’ve stopped it, it was you.”

They didn’t speak after that. Rio disappeared for days, leaving Agatha alone with her grief and her anger. She tried to bring Nicky back herself, pouring over ancient texts and forbidden spells, but every attempt ended in failure. The universe itself seemed to conspire against her, mocking her efforts at every turn.

When Rio finally returned, she found Agatha in the garden, kneeling beside the small gravestone that marked their son’s resting place. The witch looked up, her face hollow and weary.

“Why did you come back?” Agatha asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Haven’t you done enough?”

Rio hesitated, then knelt beside her. “I never wanted this,” she said softly. “You think I don’t feel the weight of it? That I don’t wish things could be different? But I—”

“Stop,” Agatha interrupted, shaking her head. “Just… stop. I can’t hear it anymore.”

Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, it seemed as though nothing could bridge the chasm that had formed between them. But then Rio reached out, her hand hesitating before resting gently on Agatha’s.

“I can’t change the past,” Rio said. “But I can help you find peace. Let me take you to him.”

Agatha looked up sharply. “To him?”

Rio nodded. “The spirit world. You’ve always had one foot in that realm because of your magic. If you’re willing, I can guide you there. But it’s a one-way journey, Agatha. You’d have to leave this life behind.”

Agatha’s breath hitched. The idea of abandoning everything she knew was terrifying, but the thought of seeing Nicky again—of holding him, of being with him—was more powerful than any fear. She reached for Rio’s hand, gripping it tightly. “Take me to him.”

The transition was unlike anything Agatha had ever experienced. Rio’s power enveloped her, a mixture of cold finality and strange comfort. The world blurred and shifted, and when Agatha opened her eyes, she was standing in a place that felt both foreign and familiar. The air shimmered with an otherworldly glow, and the landscape was a blend of vivid colors and ethereal forms. And then she saw him.

Nicky ran toward her, his laughter echoing like a melody. Agatha fell to her knees, arms outstretched as he barreled into her embrace. She held him tightly, tears streaming down her face as she murmured his name over and over.

Rio stood a few steps away, watching the reunion with a faint smile. When Agatha finally looked up, she whispered, “Thank you.”

“This is where you belong now,” Rio said. “With him. I’ll stay, too. If you’ll have me.”

Agatha nodded, pulling Rio into the embrace. For the first time since Nicky’s death, she felt whole. They weren’t bound by the rules of life and death anymore. Here, in this timeless, boundless realm, they could be a family again.

And so they stayed, together, in a place where love and magic intertwined, where grief was a distant memory, and where their son’s laughter filled the air forever.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

For the 🖤Heart of the Villain/ess/ex💔 AU, I think I've figured out how I want it to go:

It will have the characters as different nobles, who all have.a different class/type of magic they are born with, which is their family aurum (my word for magic for this au). The head noble families are themed after the Seven Heavenlu Virtues and Seven Deadly Sins, but with a twist: Each house has one Virtue and Sin ( which are called Auras and Umbras). Reader is part of the noble family who fall under Lust and Love (their House/Family is called the Passio de Amorluxuria) (I think it translates to Passion of Lovelust). Their family has been known to have powerful auras and umbras, but has a dark creature tied to them, their purest or darkest form, the dragon... Reader, in their first life, due to their hatred of the Protagonist and the wrongs done to them, was killed in cold blood. And with each new life they lived, no matter what they did to turn the tides and to get a better life,they always failed. Their own friends, their own family, rivals and teachers, even complete strangers, would murder them, or the Protagonist would, claiming Reader to be the evil beast which each house feared, whom they swore to destroy... And with each new life, each new timeline, Reader's dragon form grows smaller and smaller, weaker and weaker, as their love for other people and beings and their lust for life and power wither away...

Yet when they reach their 20th life... They decide they've had enough.

Forget making friends or keeping them! Forget their family, who ignore them and have killed them all for the love of a stranger. Forget their backstabbing peers and double-edged teachers and that awful, horrifying Protagonist...! This time, they aren't getting involved. They will not spend another lifetime wasting their few short years of life trying to please impossible people or to curry favor with their peers or to deal with that stupid Protagonist. This time, they will focus on themself. Their own aura and umbra, their own power, their own riches and objects and projects. Why waste another (literal) lifetime doing the sme thing over and over again with no reward? No. That's over and done with. Leave the drama and pettiness to the others; this life is about Reader now, and they intend to make the most of it!

Except... over the years, as Reader grows from a small child into a kid, then to a preteen and to a teen... something weird happens. For once... people start act... strange. Less cruel and dismissive and in "love" with the Protagonist... yet more "interested" in Reader... Trying to find them, to talk to them, to even befriend them... It's... odd. And Reader doesn't like it. Dear Primora, even the inane Protagonist joins in on it! This new change isn't welcome, and Reader is having none of it. They reply curtly and to the point, they stick to themself, they have an entire room dedicated to just their experiments that they spend their time in, writing the results down to hand in at school (sadly they couldn't escape school this timeline...). Yet they have kept up the act of an arrogant, aloof noble with a dark family history, as they can't tip anyone off to their knowledge of the timeloop in case they aren't the only one aware of it. And most people buy it... but then they start to look closer, listen more to their tones and chosen phrases than to the front they put up... Reader isn't sure what's going on, but they won't let themself be tricked again. They won't let themself die just to sate the monsters around them...

Meanwhile...

The Platonic Yans have realized that the Reader they thought they knew isn't the Reader they're used to (they aren't aware of the timeloops, they just find the changes in Reader odd. Their subconscious/inner selves noticed Reader changing past what they'd always been, and so they themselves are starting to notice setting is weird with them; that they aren't their usual self that they know). Their friends/lackeys/tag-alongs aren't sure why they're being pushed away. Did they say something? Did they hurt Reader somehow? No matter what they do to keep Reader as their friend/comrade/boss, they just- drift away, slowly cut contact with them. And it hurts. And they aren't sure what happened to cause it. Reader's family is unsure why they're bothering showing interest in Reader, as they've always been a needy disappointment to them, to their family... Yet... They start to notice Reader actively avoids them. Reader doesn't bother to seek them out anymore, which is strange. Reader always wanted to show then something or ask questions, so why aren't they visiting them around their manor? They hardly see Reader at dinner, and if they do, Reader simply takes their meal with them to another room, or forgoes eating for their... whatever they do... What DO they do? Have they never actually... known what their kid/sibling/relative does when they can't see them? Reader passes up talking to them or having their monthly scheduled talks with the older members, leaving them waiting and wondering what has gotten into them... And now they start to feel... concerned? Worried, for once? That they know nothing about their own child/sibling/relative, not even the basics. And they feel guilty over it. Reader's rivals and peers and teachers find their behavior odd over the years, as when they expected a competitive, arrogant, social butterfly, they instead have an apathetic, cynical child/teen, who is still the one to beat, yet... weren't they... weren't they not always like this?? Weren't they loud and outgoing and boasting and sociable, a person who loved life and lusted for power and aura and umbra? Who is this person they have instead?! They're unsure of what to do, but they don't know how to approach the issue. Something tells them to get closer, to offer an ear or hand or some advice... but they're not taken. And now they know something isn't right...

So, Reader is building their own power and umbra and aura, hoping to keep themself strong enough, so that should their draconic form come to light, they'll be prepared to fight back, and win... Their form is small, weak, at first... But with their new lust for a better end, for a full life... They slowly grow... And so too, does their umbra...

Yet in the background, the Protagonist watches, waiting... And they hope to see if they can't have this poor, lonely villain/ess/ex of the kingdom as the next loyal dog at their beck and command...

But even still... their powr isn't as absolute as they think it is... And this time... Reader's going to win...

[mcglossyy]

"you were my everything, i was your second best"

synopsis: you loved him, so much. your heart would ache whenever he wasnt around. but now your heart aches when he is around.

pairing: non-idol!jake x fem!reader

genre: angst, no comfort, mental cheating, a little bit inspired by washing machine heart too.

wc: 1.9k

status: published!

NOW PLAYING : SECOND BEST BY LAUFEY

(all song credits go to original creators, i am by no means claiming said song as my own)

masterlist.

You enter Jake's room, two bowls of soup in your hand and heart in your pocket- giving one within five seconds and the other in a few months.

Eleven months.

That's how long it had been since he promised you that he'd never leave.

It started off as stolen glances at her, escalating to hugs that last longer than they should.

It's like your brain could tell, but your mind refused to go along with it.

It took you longer than necessary to notice how you were so cleverly left behind on the street, how he always walked a little faster.

You'll always regret how it took longer than it should have to notice how his kisses weren't as sincere anymore. Like he had something or worse, someone in mind instead of cherishing the moment.

You vividly remember one specific Tuesday, where you sat on the couch, eager to talk with him about your day, the things you did. But that eagerness died when you saw his lack of responses, still stuck in thought. Like a half-hearted lullaby, his only signs of even being there at all was an occasional 'yeah' or distant nod.

Later, your anniversary came up.

You arranged a date at a cozy café, and he bought flowers and a teddy bear. Though, the plush toy continues to gather dust at the nearby thrift store, and you let yourself watch the roses wither and die-- at least he bought something, right?

After yet a another dinner with effort coming from only one party, you two danced. It wasn't all that perfect, but hey, it's the feelings that count. Jake swung you around, eyes flickering with something unreadable from time to time. You two returned home, body dragging you along the corridors of your shared apartment.

Lying down on the satin sheets, you extend your hand to his hair. Playing with his hair was something you two grew fond of over the months of shared company.

No response.

No soft 'I love you's, no nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, silently encouraging you to keep going.

Nothing.

Humiliated, you withdraw your hand.

It was hard to sleep that night.

It's not like anything has changed, matter of fact, it's gotten worse than before.

But there's not much you can do to change it. That's what makes the story of you and Jake tragic, afterall.

It could have been prevented. But that can't happen. Because for this story to have a happy ending- you would have to be a different person.

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - @mcglossyy 2025

[shmowder]

Hi!! Love your blog, look forward to seeing your posts!! Every time they show up even if I’m not personally interested in the character/topic it’s about And since you seem to have a very good grasp on lore and the characters! I have a question about how something I’ve been thinking about would work/could it work? So how would the towns dynamic change if there was a fourth mistress? That only seems to really pop up during the events of the game? Since the playing field of the town is always getting shaken up so what better way to shake things up then have a fourth mistress who only reveals themself at the final moment? Maybe this persons family hid them/ their abilities away from the rest of the town for their protection? And now that the town is in disarray there’s no way to hid any longer? Or Meta reasons they only get added in because the kids got a new doll they wanted to add into a preexisting story?. I’m curious on how you personally think something like that would work/if it could work as a concept!? Since you seem to have a really good understanding on those kinda things! so I trust your judgment sorry if this is annoying I promise I’m not trying to be!!

also here’s a flower since your writing and memes are rlly cool 🪻

There are Mistresses with a capital M, and then there are mistress candidates.

In the town–not the Kin/steppe–there are only two Mistresses, light and dark, Nin and Victoria. Katerina is a false Mistress, she never counted to begin with.

However, there are currently three mistress candidates ingame and zero actual Mistresses. We never see one come into her full power, it simply ends too soon.

Maria, Capella, and Katerina. All three of them are only candidates. A Mistress's power extends much more beyond mere clairvoyance, sure they have "magical" abilities, but they haven't earned the title yet. Much like Artemy needed to earn the Menkhu title and not just be good at surgery.

The Light and Dark Mistresses are both new additions to the town. Their dichotomy belongs to the Capital, they're not native to the place.

Now for Kin "Mistresses" the definition is a little...vague.

They only have one, it's the Earth Mistress.

Let's make one thing clear, the Mistresses's powers are not part of them, it does not belong to them, they simply borrow it. Weaving magic through the air.

Much like one would wield a sword, it takes a tremendous amount of training and strife. And when you die, the sword doesn't wither alongside your body, instead it remains next to your corpse, waiting for another to come along.

Anyone can pick it up and wield it. That's how the powers are "passed" between generations. These swords do not actually belong to certain families despite what they may claim. The roles are more fluid than anyone thinks.

Katerina became a mistress candidate for dark after the passing of Nina as a way to keep balance, but by the time she started getting kinda of decent at wielding her sword, Victoria passed away and Katerina threw her weapon and powers out the window, rushing to the light and to take Victoria's place.

A light Mistress's role is more favourable, your visions leave you joyous, and you're well beloved amongst the people.

But by doing that, Katerina reset all of her progress, and she was back to learning how to wield this new magic from square one. Losing both tracks in the process since Maria and Capella's abilities far surpass hers by that point despite the early start advantage she was granted.

So...her eyes turned to another role, the Earth.

But she's not from the Kin. She can never hear the twyre whispers or trace the lines.

That's where the Rat Prophet comes in.

Remember how Mistress powers are only borrowed? Their visions are hazy, and prophecies are vague?

Well, the Rat Prophet IS the sword himself in this scenario. Those are his powers, always was, always will be. Part of the earth yes but an independent part, like one of your limbs suddenly gaining sentience and doing their own thing.

In the P1 Haruspex route, you can get a prophetic vision from him. Not about you, but about The Changeling, who starts doubting her powers and begs you to go ask the Prophet because he simply refuses to talk to her.

You ask him–or pretend to fool him and he immediately realises what you're doing–then answers directly. No beating around the bush, no weird euphemism, not a single room for doubt

The Changeling will lose her powers if she realises she has them, simple as that. Everything she says becomes reality. Every lie will twist into truth, and the second she becomes aware of it, all of her powers will vanish.

To the Haruspex it sounds like gibberish, but to you? The player who knows better? Oh, he hits the nail on the head. Because that's the thing, he never was talking to Artemy! He was talking to you. In every interaction, he is always addressing you the player.

That's the true "magic" everyone is so obsessed over, breaking the fourth wall, realising this is a game. That's why Clara powers surpass her age and time, because she is already past one layer of meta narrative, she knows this is a game which grants her better access to magic...She just thinks it's a kids' game, a sandcastle built by two kids and nothing more.

She hasn't been past the second meta narrative layer. She isn't even aware of its existence.

That's why the Mistresses can only weave it. They're just blindly grasping at the games code. No wonder they come out of it very confused.

It's a whole alternative reality to them. They don't have computers, and they don't know what Java Script is! You ask Maria to write you a simple Python IF function, and she'd tell you why the hell would she use a snake like a pen to write with?

The only way they can explain this ability, make sense of these binary codes, is clairvoyance.

Why their prophecies are so distorted and nonsensical, why they can only speak in riddles.

Why the Rat Prophet who casually breaks the 4th wall all the time has the luxury of being direct, crystal clear snippets of the future at the tips of his fingers...rat fingers?

The Rat Prophet is the one who comes to Katerina and lends her crumbs of his powers, just enough to get her to believe him when he starts calling himself the voice of the earth.

For what end? I don't know. His intentions for tricking her are never revealed. But he succeeds, and she fully buys into it, making her a false Mistress. She's not much of an earth mistress when the weapon she's supposed to wield has auto aim on, huh? Katerina is basically playing Pathologic Mistress Simulator with trainer cheats activated.

But, he doesn't give her the right prophecies, deliberately aiming on the wrong targets.

So there are only two actual self-made Mistresses so far.

-

In the P1 termites ending, Capella mentions how the Mistresses will be reinvented.

In the town, there are three power houses, right? Olgimskay, Kains and Saburovs. Each pulling from different directions.

Well, there is a fourth hidden cog, there always has been based on Capella's theory–the Kin. Not the employees under her father's command, but the real actual Kin indigenous to the town before settlements came here from the outside.

So the death of one Mistress doesn't start a domino effect of catastrophes like last time.

Capella wants to keep the balance of things, restart the cycle and maintain the status quo. The system wasn't broken and doesn't need changing, she claims, people just implanted wrong.

This time around, she will make it even more balanced. Leave fails safes everywhere by spreading out the power even more so there is less room for error and greed.

That's what Isidor saw in her and the termites, the potential to rebuild the town and ensure its survival. Her goals also coincidentally align with the Artemy's whole approach of maintaining traditions and not forsaking the past for a shiny future...at least if you play him as faithful to his role as a Menkhu.

She describes it as a "blend of many colors"

The new Mistresses are:

Grace The Beige Mistress (whatever the fuck that means)

Taya Malachite Mistress (who picked these names??)

Murky Lilac Mistress (Capella get a colourblindness test ffs)

And her. Capella. Still the Light Mistress.

She also claims to be able to see their "aura" and she picked their new roles and powers to suit the colours of their soul–on a side note, the same "aura" is also mentioned when Maria is being put down for never being able to amount to what Nina was because her soul is scarlet, transparent, not black, never an abyssal darkness like her mother.

You might ask, now who will become the next Dark Mistresses? Probably Maria still.

So what...Five total Mistresses in the termites ending?

Yeah! If not more, Clara is on her way to becoming the Earth Mistress right? Katerina needs to die first tho so the Rat Prophet stops using her as a puppet to larp as a Mistress with.

Capella basically said fuck it, everyone gets magic now. Kains and Olgimskays are united so the political tension is gone from the town. Everyone is special so no one is special so this town and its people can finally get a single fucking moment of peace at last.

The roles are shuffled, everyone has a new, more suitable title.

And Capella still needs a colourblindness test still bc Murky's scarf is NAVY BLUE, it's not LILAC.

WHERE ARE MY LORE DUMPS THAT CHARACTERS THREW AT ME OUT OF NOWHERE HUH ICE PICK LODGE? WHY IS P2 SO AFRAID OF GIVING A CHARACTER MORE THAN TWO PARAGRAPHS OF LINES IN EACH CONVERSATION? WHY DOES ARTEMY REPLY IN SHORT SENTENCES AND SINGLE WORDS? DID YOU LOBOTOMISE THE WHOLE CAST?

That's it, that's the whole P1 Mistresses in a nutshell summary :) I am NOT getting into P2 Mistress lore idgaf. It's not finished cooking yet.

They changed so much–things are somehow even more vague? It's like P2 is allergic to giving straight direct answers. Everything is suggested and hinted at rather than clearly stated.

Anyway.

For your questions.

So how would the towns dynamic change if there was a fourth mistress?

Which town? No really, which version of the town are we talking about her? Pre-plague town? Okay, do you mean the first wave or the second wave? Or post-plague town? Then which ending are we going with?

Honestly, it would change as much as it changed when Clara got introduced. That's basically your best point of reference to what adding a fourth mistress candidate would cause. Take Clara, double it and give it to the 4th.

But keep in mind that the 4th will be a mistress candidate not a Mistress. Especially if she was birthed normally as a human and had to grow up–then her progress would match Maria and Capella who still haven't came into the Mistress title.

Clara is a special case, an outlier, and the spider George of Mistresses, so we are not counting her.

"To receive her full powers and become a Mistress, a future Mistress has to go through a painful process, accompanied by seizures and fainting, and then finally wake up. After that, she will not be the same person. A future Mistress must recognize the next Mistress, passing on continuity. It is not clear whether the role of Mistress is a tradition, or a necessary stage of mystical transformation. "

As long as the 4th is still herself, she has her personality and traits still, and then she hasn't become a Mistress yet. Remember how Capella started changing at the game end in P2? It's the best example there is of what would happen to her, what awaits Maria in the future as well.

Also she needs to be acknowledged by the other Mistress candidates, even if they hate each other they will still acknowledge her if they glimpse actual powers in her.

what better way to shake things up then have a fourth mistress who only reveals themself at the final moment?

Everyone can wield the sword, but not everyone can see the sword on the ground in the first place, which is why most people don't pick it up; they don't realise it's even there. Everyone CAN become a Mistress, but most women won't.

-

That's a very mild shaking, more like stirring a cup of coffee. It's too late for her to do anything meaningful or affect any outcome. The Mistresses do not decide the game endings, the healers do. (Except anomaly mcguffin Clara again bc fuck me ig)

Block and Lilich do not believe in the Mistresses or respect them much, and it's them you need to convince to spare the town. Clara could brainwash people unless the 4th can do that too then...yeah, no.

Even then, she needed the same 13 days of preparations beforehand and a tremendous amount of human sacrifice. Most reactions to a new Mistress revealed from thin air at the last day would be like

Maybe this persons family hid them/ their abilities away from the rest of the town for their protection?

"oh cool. So like where were you while people were dying?"

-

Mistresses are mothers. That's basically it. They "mother" the town and its people, they have the heavy presence of a parent you have no choice but to abide to. You want to please them, you feel the need to obey them much like a kid clings to the skirt of their mother.

That's counterproductive. It's Mistresses who protect people, not the other way around. Their abilities are celebrated—even Nina the Evil was adored and respected despite her wrongdoings. No one dared lay a singer finger on her, not just out of fear but out of genuine reverence.

And she has, in fact, killed people.

And if she was hidden, it means she never got properly acknowledged by the other mistress candidates. So she never officially became a candidate herself and hasn't earned the title yet, only managing to hold very little power and influence.

Best case scenario, Capella integrates her into the termites/her vision of the new town. She wanted Clara to join her cause yk, but Clare refused.

... but maybe the ones who hid her did it out of fear they might lose her? Once she ascends to power, she will lose herself, feelings, and everything she once held dear. A complete factory reset of her brain. Sure, she still has her memories, but they feel like a stranger's more than hers.

That's one reason to prevent someone from pursuing their Mistress potential.

-

Or Meta reasons they only get added in because the kids got a new doll they wanted to add into a preexisting story?

That's clever! She needs to be a hated toy like the rest for them to throw her in there. It will need to be both, tho. The kids AND the hiding thing lore working in unison.

-

I’m curious on how you personally think something like that would work/if it could work as a concept!?

It's very feasible and could definitely work! But without time, preparation, and coming out of hiding years in advance if she is human, then she won't make much of a difference to the main story except be an interesting sideplot.

Think of it this way, All the herb brides hold the potential to be Earth Mistresses. That's how little it requires to be a mistress candidate. You are somehow connected to any string of magic in any form? Congratulations! You can enroll in the Mistress Academy starting today!

But it doesn't mean you will pass, or be accepted by the current best Mistress candidates.

You also need to want to do it, as in actively train and seek it out. If you ignore it, the power growth stunts.

-

Since you seem to have a really good understanding on those kinda things! so I trust your judgment sorry if this is annoying I promise I’m not trying to be!!

I...don't think I have that good of an understanding. I don't think I even qualify to answer this. I haven't played the Changeling route yet, nor finished the Bachelor. I just reread the wiki a lot and scoure whatever info I can find on the sub reddit.

Specifically "info" cited screenshots and texts, I don't trust opinions and theories because Pathologic is very abstract and vague, P2 even more so than P1. Two people could easily misinterpret the same concept, then the most popular version gets spread around and everyone thinks its canon.

Like Isidor adopting Rubin when it never happened, yes they planned it but he died before it could happen.

Or Daniil being short? He is pretty tall and strong, he survived a fist fight with Artemy.

Or MY BIGGEST PET PEEVE EVER, PEOPLE WHO ASSUME THE GAINT PAINTING HANGED AT THE ENTRANCE OF VICTOR'S OFFICE IN P2 IS HIS WIFE NINA.

NO! it's Maria's. Yes, she has short hair. It's her board game portrait. That's his daughter, you pricks! stop writing lewd stuff about it and the scene where he has a breakdown in front of it—it was supposed to be a bittersweet thing for him to sit on the ground in front of his daughter's painting, now you just made it about his wife and sexual stuff.

It's a reference to the many paintings of her he had in his P1 office.

My point is. I can get things wrong too, there are huge gaps of information in my brain, I am also very biased towards certian theories.

Treat this whole essay as a suggestion, a reference sheet rather than a guideline. A lot of things are left vague and up to personal interpretation, which I like a lot!

I know a lot of people have issues with Pathologic open-ended plots and optional multie choices that can be contradictions, making it harder to have a set-in-stone canon about the characters.

But I like it :) It is a meta game, after all, right? It makes sense for the player to get the power to alter this version of reality slightly. And the worlds have already changed in each playthrough! it is on purpose, a canon in game because it breaks the 4th wall. So, mulite universes and versions of events can co-exist at the same time.

Capella was right about there being a fourth hidden cog, Daniil, Artemy, and Clara are the obvious clear three.

But she was wrong about it being the Kin, because it actually is you.

The Player.

The Bachelor, The Haruspex, The Changeling, and The Player.

You've always been the hidden fourth power, the extra healer who persistently tries to cure the plague in three different universes.

That's why I love the opening cinematic in the theatre so much! The three of them are on the stage, under the spotlights and in plain view.

While you, the only other person in the room besides them, are hidden up in the corridor. Veiled by the darkness, silent and voiceless, making your way to the same exit they are.

You always belonged to the same group as them. You just were and will always be hidden out of sight and mind. Only spoken with through 4th wall breaks, even then, the characters aren't allowed to acknowledge it or remember it afterwards. You're immediately ereased from the memory of anyone you converse with after the last word is said.

-

I didn't get a chance to thank you for your sweet words, so thank you! <3 I'm glad you enjoyed my writing. I had fun delving into this, used it as an excuse to avoid my responsibilities - today has been... horrible.

I assure you, you're not annoying or anything. I'm very happy with these types of questions! I like writing x reader as much as I enjoy talking about the game, discussing and analysing the plot! I love dissecting things under a microscope, and if I do get something wrong, I try to go back and fix it.

Also a reminder, this whole post only applies to the canon of P1. It won't add up in P2 lore, neither do i plan analysing much of a game that's still not finished. Without the Bachelor and Changeling routes, we can't say much about the plot.

Thank you for the flower, that was like really endearing and cute—here's a flower back 🌺 I really like hibiscus.

[strqyr]

i'm..thinking. in a sense, knowing what bringing the relics together in the current state of remnant likely means, it adds up that salem would want to have the world destroyed to break her curse—"So long as this world turns, you shall walk it's face" and all that.

but is that really how salem operates? for one, she knows the gods as fickle beings, making a decision and changing it just moments later if they so please, especially if they feel 'cheated', so would salem actually trust them to hold their end of the bargain because she used a loop hole?

no. i don't think she would. but i do think salem is the type of person who is willing to risk the destruction of the world for a chance to defeat the gods.

after all, salem did that once—though in smaller scale, with just three kingdoms in tow—and was willing to do it again had the god of darkness not already wiped humanity away. and this is how she managed to convince them:

Jinn: With the kings and queens in awe, she pulled them deeper into her scheme. She painted them pictures of a time when they would no longer have to watch their loved ones wither and die, when they could claim the powers of their creators for themselves, and in turn, perfect their own design.

this also goes back to "if summer has not been turned into a hound-like grimm but still works for salem, how did salem manage to recruit her?" because, based on what little we know of summer, she was willing to take huge risks as well. i mean, going on a suicide mission against someone who she knows hunts her kind down to kill them, possibly knowing she's immortal, just for a chance to save the world?

yeah, "let's defeat the gods using the relics, might go 'end of the world' poorly, but if the gods are not dealt with that's always a possibility, so..." doesn't sound too crazy, at that point. if summer is anything like ruby—even going beyond—then she'd probably have enough optimism to believe this plan would work.

but then i'm also thinking about raven and how much she knows. raven never says "salem can't be killed", it's always "can't be stopped", so it doesn't seem like salem's immortality would have played that big of part in raven losing hope? on top of that, according to raven, salem "can't be reasoned with", so if raven has met salem (even before summer did), would salem have tried to recruit her, telling her what her real plan is? it would not have worked, obviously, because raven does not have the optimism summer (or salem, in this regard, i guess) has, and her main goal is survival—a plan that goes either great or everyone dies, is not the type of plan raven would want to be part of.

there's also raven's belief that for lionheart to have betrayed ozpin, salem must have something on him, so what does salem have on raven? it would be beneficial for salem, if raven knows her real plan, to throw in some vague(?) threats to make sure raven keeps her mouth shut and/or no longer works for ozpin, and thus, actively against her, but what would those threats be? against raven's family? they were all part of the war anyway, with the exception of yang who might have not been born yet, either... but if that's the case, then yang might have just—completely accidentally—dodged a bullet by mentioning summer as her mom, because salem sure wasn't making the connection between yang and raven.

anyway. these three will be the death of me with all the secrets they're holding.

[zero-cycle]

We went off on a tangent in the discord and this is the result. Enjoy. There are rumours all around in the world of Minecraft. Most of them are baseless, as gossip always is. Only very gullible people believe Herobrine actually exists. (Eret is very quiet about that particular topic.) Others are obviously exaggerated, like the claim that Technoblade is actually immortal. (Quackity never acknowledges that rumor.) And even others are so outlandish that they’re not even gossip but just straight up lies. Players blessed by the Universe don’t exist. The powers the rumours give them are too strong, too impossible. (Nobody ever asks the speedrunners what they think about this.) Even if they did exist, they must have been something different. Particularly strong code-corrupted players maybe. (Nobody tells them that it’s the same, in the end.)

Speedrunners have always been a bit different. They had to be, to survive in the face of unimaginable danger, fighting withers and dragons and their own demons without flinching. They had to be, to survive the cold of the void, to jump worlds fearlessly and survive creating and creating and creating without letting it get to them. They had to be, to survive the Universe’s love. To survive being embraced by everything and nothing at the same time, to see more than a player is ever supposed to and still keep going. They had to be, to survive and still be able to smile.

But there are rumours. Rumours that they’re different, non-human, otherworldly entities. That they are able to go on through the biggest hardships because they’re actually not that hard. That they have powers, special abilities that lets them survive everything. That they’re immortal, unstoppable, incapable of fear.

Many rumours are wrong.

These ones aren’t. Not entirely.

Speedrunners start out as human as any Player. But Sapnap wouldn’t agree that they stay that way. He’s met Fyroah only once and he still shudders when he thinks of the other player. Blaze hybrids are born of fire, that’s true, but Fyroah was different. He seemed more like he was made out of fire, a deep-seated flame burning in his code and lighting up the world around him.

Sapnap found somebody different to teach him bastion routes.

Speedrunners have to be uncorrupted. Corrupted Players mean corrupted worlds, after all, and while some of them enjoy running those worlds, the vast majority prefer not to. But Pete looks at Illumina after they meet again during MCC and the way his eyes drip with black makes him flinch. Illumina turns his head, looks at him and smiles and Pete has to break eye contact.

Pete has seen the worlds Illumina creates. They’re uncorrupted, beautiful, ordinary.

Not even the Vault Gods feel as inhuman as those eyes.

Speedrunners aren’t immortal. On the contrary, many of them die young and tragically. But Philza has seen Draconix before and yet he is still here, just looking a little bit more tired and a little bit closer to snapping. It’s been several hundred years, if his sense of time can be trusted. (It can’t. It’s been longer.) And yet Draconix is still here, wings curled around his shoulder and so many necklaces Philza can’t count them anymore.

Phil avoids him. The wings make him feel uneasy and there’s something about the other player that makes his sense of danger tingle. Draconix sticks around anyway. The other winged player seems to just never die.

Speedrunners don’t have special powers. They wouldn’t be allowed to use them in a run anyway. But Couriway is right there, in front of Hbomb, and even H can tell he wasn’t born with his wings. They’re too strong. too big, too golden, too bright to be natural. He can’t even look at them directly without feeling like the ground under his feet is shaking.

Couriway is not allowed to compete at MCC and Hbomb can’t say he’s a bit glad for it.

Speedrunners are forces of nature. It’s a term that’s meant endearing or as appreciation for their skill but Scott knows better. There is a reason he refuses too many of them together on the server. There is a reason he rejects them when they apply. There is a reason he will not let them into MCC.

Others have called them code-corrupted but Scott knows they’re wrong. Their code is fine. But they’re Universe-blessed and in a way it’s worse.

Scott likes the MCC server. He will not see it torn to pieces. He will not let them in.

Where is the line between a blessing and a curse?

Is it when Illumina falls to the void slowly instead of in one fell swoop? Is it that the wings burn Couriway and the Universe’s power cool him?

Is it where Fyroah dies to lava, a kind death instead of the agonizing pain of betrayal and loss Sapnap went through?

Is it when Draconix gets refused entry while the corrupted code takes everything it can reach?

Is it because Feinberg had to work for it and the corrupted code took Eret without asking?

Does it truly matter, when it ends with a graveyard anyway?

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Second Chances

Ben Hargreeves x Reader

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Summary: With new threats about, the Umbrella Academy is looking for new members to (potentially) help save the world and your healing abilities make you the perfect candidate to join.

Note: Idk why I’ve been in a Ben Hargreeves mood these past few days, but have some fluff. Set in a no time travel no apocalypse au?

Warnings: Very mild mentions of death

Word Count: 1.2k

Reader is: Gender Neutral

When you’d called the Umbrella Academy claiming to be gifted like they were, the others were, admittedly, skeptical. Several times throughout their childhood, the Hargreeves had met countless parents with children they claimed to be special, and none of them ever actually were. But, with Reginald dead and world-ending threats lurking around every corner, the remaining Hargreeves siblings were a little more…open to having more help around.

So, you arrived at the house, with little more than your messenger bag, your laptop, your favorite mug, and some clothes. You figured you shouldn’t bring too many things in case they kicked you right back out, but they wouldn’t have any reason to. You really were gifted.

The monkey butler, named Pogo, welcomed you in, and a nice woman named Grace made a cup of tea for you, and in the meantime, the rest of the siblings slowly assembled in the living room. The first of whom was Klaus, who, as usual, was bored.

“So you’re the one who called, huh?” He asked, sizing you up.

“Yep. I’m (Y/N).”

“And what’s your ability?” Klaus asked, plopping down on the couch across from you.

“We’ll let them show us when everyone else gets here.” Luther asserted, entering the room. “Nice to meet you, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” You said politely, sipping from the mug of tea. Off in the corner of the room, you felt a…presence. You looked over there, your eyes narrowed, and sure enough, there was a bundle of energy concentrated there. Almost as though…

Huh. Odd.

You caught Klaus staring at you when you glanced back that way and he smirked a little to himself, although he didn’t explain why it had caught his attention. Given your faint knowledge of the Umbrella Academy members, heralded as heroes while you were growing up, you were fairly certain he was Séance, which could only mean one thing…

It only took the others a few more minutes to get to the living room, and so once everyone was assembled, a man who had introduced himself as Diego said, “Alright, so what’s your thing?”

“I’m a healer. I have healing powers and they’re…kind of ridiculously powerful.” You told them.

“Healing powers are great, but we’re going to need you to prove it.” Luther crossed his arms, focused on you.

“Okay.” You shrugged. There was a dead plant sitting in a pot on the coffee table, so, you concentrated, green energy manifesting around your fingers. You flicked them onto the plant, and when you did, immediately, it perked up, its brown and withered leaves filling out and returning to the green color they had been weeks prior before it had died.

“Woah.” Allison smiled, staring at the now, very much alive plant. “That’s…incredible.”

“Thanks.” You chuckled. “It, uh, works on people, too. Obviously.”

“Right. Well, next time one of us is injured, we know where to find you. Welcome to the team.”

“Thank you.”

***

And so, you moved some more of your things in, which included a large amount of books. You liked reading, so a lot of your time spent at the school was in the living room, curled up with a book and a mug of tea.

It was on one of those occasions that Klaus approached you.

“You can see him, right?” He asked, motioning to the…presence that was lingering next to him. It migrated swiftly to one of the chairs in the living room, and Klaus looked at it, seemingly listening to it before turning his attention back to you. “When you first got here, you looked right at him.”

“I cannot see him, no, but I can feel him. I don’t know if that makes any sense…It’s like a magnetic field, kind of. There’s a pull to wherever he is.”

“Ah. Makes sense.” Klaus nodded. “This is Ben. My dead brother. Our dearly departed.”

“Oh, uh, sorry for your loss.” You said, unsure of how to respond to such a statement. “And nice to meet you, Ben.”

Klaus looked to Ben before repeating, “He says it’s nice to meet you, too. I have a question, though, are you into spirituality? Like witchcraft? Or is this part of your gift?”

“I’m…not sure, actually. I collect rocks, but more because they’re pretty than any other reason.” You thought for a long moment about just what he was insinuating. “Huh…”

“What?”

“Hold still.” You told the empty space where Ben was supposedly sitting, calling your power to your hand and watching as the green light flickered around your fingertips. Then, you flicked your wrist forward, sending the energy in that direction.

Then, suddenly, a young man in a black hoodie and leather jacket appeared in the chair in front of you, staring at you dumbfounded.

“Holy shit!” You jolted, gasping and staring at him. “I did not expect that to work, honestly.” You admitted, giggling.

“You can see me?” He asked, looking down at his hands and then pressing them to his cheeks to feel his skin.

“Yeah, and I can hear you, too.” You told him.

“Am I…?” Ben murmured softly, feeling the fabric of his hoodie. He pinched himself.

Klaus walked over and poked him a few times. “I mean, you feel pretty real to me.”

“How did you…How did you do that?”

“I have no idea, but I guess we can add necromancy to my list of powers.”

“Is there something going on in…here…?” Allison was standing in the doorway, looking into the room. Her eyes landed on Ben. Immediately she teared up. “B-Ben?”

“In the flesh. I think.” Ben chuckled, still not positive he was really alive after all of his years as a ghost. Tears brimmed his eyes too. “Been a while, huh?”

Allison rushed into the room and hugged him tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks, and once she was done, she went to gather the others while Klaus took his turn, giving his formerly dead brother a hug.

As soon as Klaus let go of him, Ben walked over towards you and knelt down in front of where you were sitting, taking your hand, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Thank you. So much. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Of course.” You said softly. “I’d say anytime, but I don’t want you to die again anytime soon, alright?”

“Right.” He laughed. “I’ll try to stick around a while longer this time.”

“Good.”

***

With Ben alive again, the occasion called for celebration, which meant some family bonding and drinks and music, and while you didn’t really feel like part of their mismatched family yet, the Hargreeves welcomed you quickly as one of their own, especially given that you had returned their brother to them.

And once the party was over and the others were slowly but surely going up to bed one by one, Ben made sure to single you out, approaching you with a smile brighter than the others said he’d ever smiled during his first life.

“I don’t mean to be too forward, but, um, second chances and all that…” Ben rubbed the back of his neck chuckling to himself and blushing for the first time in about a decade. “Do you maybe wanna go to the movies sometime? Or like out to dinner? I’d like to do something to repay you, and also…get to know you a little better? If that’s alright? If not, it’s totally cool, I just—”

“I’d love to, Ben. That’d be great.”

“Awesome. Cool. Um, Friday at seven?”

“Friday at seven.” You nodded, smiling. “It’s a date.”

[serendiquity]

i ran to your asks so fast that was embarrassing.. ANYWAYS! could you possibly do owen kissing hcs i just want to kiss him so bad.

No Longer Human

So, I actually wrote a scenario for this, but I hope you enjoy!

“What does it mean to be human?”

Owen does not want to love. When he is in love, he loses all control of his actions, and it feels like his heart has a mind of its own.

“Human? What do you mean?” You tilt your head, turning to look up at him from your comfortable spot on the couch. Without you noticing, he had reclined himself against the back of the chair, in a surprisingly talkative mood.

Caring for others makes you weak, it’s useless and leaves you to their mercy. But, fickle as it is, his heart has decided to love anyways, and for someone like you, nonetheless. A mere human, destined to die centuries before he does. Someone who can be blown away by the softest breeze, who will age before his eyes, who will bring him nothing but heartbreak. Someone who was meant to live and let die, leaving him alone once more.

“Someone like me, can I even be considered a human? Or am I just a monster?” Owen lets out a harsh, belligerent laugh as he glances at you, like a predator at its prey.

Is this his punishment? To fall in love, knowing he’ll lose it all too soon.

“Being human… I don’t know what exactly that means, but… I think you’re human. You have feelings, like everyone else. You can feel pain, sorrow, and despair. And you have other emotions as well.”

And yet, even knowing this, he finds himself unable to walk away. You continue to approach, despite his attempts to keep you at bay. And perhaps it’s because he’s closed himself off for so long, but he can’t help but crave for your touch, your attention, your love.

You see him frown disbelievingly as you scramble for the right words. “If you don’t believe me, then let me show you. Give me a chance to prove that you’re not the demon you’ve made yourself out to be.”

He thought he had succeeded in creating a barrier to protect himself from the rest of the world, but then you tumbled into his life, effortlessly bringing those walls crashing down around him and leaving him painfully exposed.

“Why?” Why would you go so far for me? Why do you continue to do this? Why can’t you just hate me, like everyone else?

When he closes his eyes, he can see himself, locked inside of that room once more, with only himself and the monster in his head. And when he does, he remembers exactly why he shouldn’t get too close.

“Because I care for you. Because… I love you.”

But it’s so very tempting. Each of your words is like a siren’s song, bringing him impossibly closer. And he can’t help but want to give in, to simply end this tiresome facade.

A tense silence hangs in the air for a long moment before he turns away, giving you a withering scowl. “Liar.” Because no one would ever love a monster like me.

But how could anyone truly love someone like him?

“I’m not, I promise. My word may not hold the same weight as a wizard’s, but please, trust me just this once.” A hint of desperation slips into your tone as you beg him to agree to your request. And maybe, just maybe, you’re asking him for something else as well.

However... he wants to trust you, to believe that you’re different. You make it so easy too, with those sweet words and adoring eyes.

“... Fine. But if you claim to love me, then be prepared for the consequences that will follow.”

And so, for the first time, he lets someone extend their hand towards him, watches as you help him out of the hole he’s dug himself into.

Without giving you the time to process his words, he pulls you forward into his embrace, taking you by surprise. It's cold and harsh, leaving you breathless as he presses his lips on yours. However, despite his actions, he looks more fragile and vulnerable than ever. His arms snake around your waist, holding you tightly to his chest, as if afraid you’ll leave the second he lets go. “Please,” he whispers, “Don’t leave me alone. Not again.”

Maybe, just this once, he can let down his guard for a moment. To enjoy this bliss before it fades away once more.

You close your eyes and whisper words that you both know are a lie. “I won’t.”

Truly, what a cruel thing fate is.

[ray-ray-writings]

Butchered Plans-Technoblade

#113 from this prompt list. Check out my masterlist here! 

This is a Technoblade x GN reader!

This will not really follow what actually happened in the dreamsmp roleplay but I hope you enjoy it all the same! 

Y/N finds out about the Butcher Army and attempts to put a stop to their plan. 

Y/N’s POV

L’Manberg was quiet today… Too quiet. I hadn’t seen Tubbo, Fundy, Quackity, Ranboo, Ghostbur or Philza around all day. Ever since Tommy’s exile I was sure that I spoke to each of them at least once a day for 15 minutes or longer. Tommy was ripped away from me, from L’Manberg and I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to the boy that had become my brother. I had no idea the debate that raged on between the boys and Dream and by the time I was clued in it was too late. He was gone. 

I sighed as I strolled down Prime Path, heading toward the new L’Manberg. I kept my eyes peeled, looking for a sign of any movement. Any life. Anyone. Suddenly, a tall tower I had never seen before was in the center of the square caught my eye. “What the-” I muttered, jogging toward it. As I got closer, I began to hear voices. I caught a glimpse of Carl tied to a post and I broke in a full sprint. 

Well I found the boys I had been looking for all day. Tubbo, Fundy, Quackity, and Ranboo stood on the outer edges of the stage dressed in bloody aprons. Philza stood outside his front door, watching what was happening. Ghostbur stood off to the side of the stage with a blue sheep. There was one more person that was standing on the stage. Technoblade. 

Technoblade and I have had an interesting relationship ever since he joined the server. I had been really good friends with his brothers and when they were banished from L’Manberg, it broke my heart. I spent a lot of time giving them supplies and intel about the things that were happening under Schlatt’s control. Wherever I would visit them, Techno would always throw flirty remarks my way, leaving me flustered. One time I decided to throw one back at his, causing him to blush like crazy. The next time I went over, Techno asked me on a date. I accepted, of course and ever since then the two of us had been a couple.

I stood by him through a lot of important events. I helped raise Carl. I helped him farm wither skulls. I had been there with him when he spawned the withers and blew up L’Manberg. He and I spent many days looking for a place to build his “retirement” home and then many days then building said house. We spent a lot of time together and I really did love him.  

“What the hell is going on here?!” I demanded as I stomped on the stage. All eyes snapped to me as I stood there, fuming on the stage. “Y/N” Tubbo began nervously, “You shouldn’t be here. Quackity, I thought you took care of them!” he hissed to his partner in crime. Quackity rubbed the back of his neck, “Oops. I guess I forgot.” I crossed my arms across my chest and glowered at the four boys. “That doesn’t answer my question of what is going on here.” I hissed out. Tubbo cleared his throat and nervously looked to his feet. “An execution…” He whispered. I was silent as I soaked up Tubbo’s words. “We made a list. A list of people that threaten the peace of L’Manberg. Techno is on that list and then to make sure we have that peace, he must die.” Tubbo finished. 

I stared at him with an eyebrow raised. “Really? You think that this is going to solve your problems?” I questioned, “You know he has all of his cannon lives. If he dies, when he comes back you’re going to have to pay full price for what you did to him… You really think this is a smart play.” Tubbo gave me a half shrug while the other three stared at each other. “He had to pay for what he’s done,” Fundy spoke up. I let out a laugh and shook my head, “He did exactly what he told you he was going to do. You knew how much he hates governments and yet you literally formed one in front of him… If anything it’s your own fault.” I informed them with a shrug. 

I brushed past Tubbo and made my way to the cage that sat in the middle of the stage, the two right next to it. “Hey there.” I greeted my partner with a smile. Techno mirrored my smile as he gave me a small wave, “Fancy seeing you here. Whatcha doing?” I asked, swinging my bag off my shoulder, looking for my pickaxe. “Oh, you know… Being executed.” He claimed nonchalantly. I giggled at his casualness as I brought my pick out of my bag. I was about to swing my pick to break the iron lock that kept my boyfriend contained in a one by one block, but a hand landed on my shoulder stopping my motions. 

“Y/N! You can’t do this! We, the Butcher Army, have made a decision! He must die!” Tubbo whined. I rolled my eyes and pushed his hand off of my shoulder, “I know that you have reached a decision, but given that it is a stupid ass decision I have elected to ignore it” I announced turning back to the cage that housed my boyfriend. I brought my pick up and swung at the iron lock, instantly breaking it causing the cell door to swing open. “NOOOOOO!” The four boys screeched. They rushed forward, trying with all their might to push the pink haired man back into the cage, but the two of us were too strong for him. 

The two of us easily pushed the four boys off of us and to the ground. They stayed down, a bit dazed allowing us to make our escape. I grabbed my boyfriend’s hand and ran toward where I saw Carl tied up. With ease, Techno hoisted himself up onto his cherished horse as I untied the prized horse from the post. I handed Techno the reigns before jumping on the animal myself. “Stop! Prisoner!” I heard the voices shout from behind us. “Let’s go Carl!” Techno shouted, giving the animal a swift kick sparking the horse into action. Carl whinnied and began galloping at full speed down the prime path. “NOOOOOOO!” the four voices screamed, fading out of earshot as we rode off toward Techno’s retirement home. 

I let out a breath of relief as Techno’s home appeared in my field of view. Carl came to a stop right outside the front door. Techno quickly hopped off of his pet and tied him to his post. Techno then reached up and helped me off of the animal. The two of us locked eyes as we stood there. I let out a giggle at what had just happened. My laughter caused Techno to laugh as well. “I cannot believe you did that” He admitted, wrapping his arms around my waist, leaning his forehead on my own. I let out a content sigh, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I’d do anything for you,” I admitted. His brown eyes stared into my own lovingly. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you,” He mumbled, leaning down and pressing a kiss onto my lips. I let out a giggle, immediately kissing back. “Well I know one way.” I mumbled against his lips. 

Techno pulled back slightly and raised his eyebrow. “And that is?” “Well considering I just betrayed the L’Manberg president, I don’t think I’ll be welcome in their land anytime soon… So you could let me crash here for a while.” Techno let out a chuckle and pecked my lips once more. “Of course,” He hummed, “You’re always welcome here.” I gave my boyfriend a soft smile at his response. “Thank you” “Anytime.”

We stood there for a few minutes before a shiver ran down my spine. “I’m cold” I claimed with a pout on my lips. Techno let out a laugh and rolled his eyes, “Of course you are. Come on, I’ll make you something hot to drink.” Techno let go of my waist and turned toward the front door. “You’re the best” I hummed, reaching forward and intertwining our fingers. Techno brought our hands up to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on the back of my hand. “I know… You’re pretty okay too.” He teased, opening the door. I let out a gasp in mock offense, “Excuse you?!” I exclaimed as the two of us made our way to the kitchen, “I literally just saved you from the Butcher Army and this is how you repay me?” Techno led me to a seat and sat me down before turning to the stove and began making my drink, “In that case. I guess you’re pretty cool too… Ya know… For butchering their plans….” 

 There was a silence in the kitchen before laughter came bubbling out of my mouth. “I can’t believe you just made that pun!” I laughed, holding my stomach. Techno threw a smile over his shoulder as he worked. “I figured you would like it.” The laughter slowly died down as I took deep breaths to calm myself. Techno set my favorite mug down in front of me before sitting down beside me. His arm wrapped around my shoulder and a kiss was placed upon my temple. I smiled as I brought my own mug to my lips and took a sip. I let out a content sigh as I rested my head on my boyfriend’s shoulder. “I could get used to this,” I admitted, turning slightly to look at my love. Techno gave me a gentle smile, leaning down, and pressing a kiss on the top of my head before pulling me closer to him. “So could I”

There you go! I hope you enjoyed!! If so, please be sure to leave a like! Maybe even a reply or a reblog telling me what you liked about it!! Until next time!

[yazthebookish]

If you like Elain I'm sorry, but there is something I'd like to point out that I don't see people address much and it made me dislike her even more (has nothing to do with ships I disliked Nesta and Elain for years, ACOSF made me adore Nesta and Elain is yet to grow on me) so let me share this scene in the book:

“I sat by your side for weeks,” Nesta said flatly. “Weeks, while you wasted away, refusing food and drink. While you appeared to hope you’d just wither and die.”

Elain flinched. But Nesta couldn’t stop the words from pouring out. “No one suggested you either shape up or be shipped back to the human lands.” Elain, surprisingly, held her ground. “I wasn’t drinking myself into oblivion and—and doing those other things.”

“Fucking strangers?”

Elain flinched again, her face coloring.

You don't come and claim to be helping your sister while judging her and barely being there for her when your sister sat by you for months and even struggled to sleep because she was worried about you.

I do not want someone to accuse me of misogyny because that's the trend these days and I do not ship Azriel and Gwyn out of spite, I genuinely love them together and has nothing to do with Elain. I do not like Elain and ACOSF did not change that for me unfortunately. Maybe I'll end up liking her in her book? But SJM did not give her any development in ACOSF to make me care about her, she made me dislike her more because of her treatment of Nesta. Nesta wasn't being easy either but she shouldn't have judged her like this.

Elain crossed her arms and said calmly, sadly, “Feyre warned me this might happen.” The words struck Nesta like a slap. They’d spoken of her, her behavior, her attitude. Elain and Feyre—that was the new status of things. The bond Elain had chosen.

Elain stood by the rail, the breeze caressing her hair. “She’s not getting any better. She’s not even trying.” She wrapped her arms around herself and stared toward the distant sea. < after one conversation she decided that Nesta is not even trying to get better. Show Nesta the patience she had shown you when she sat by your side for months.

Elain had chosen Feyre and these people, and left her behind.

She’d spent weeks here last year—during that terrible period after being turned Fae, begging Elain to demonstrate any sign of wanting to live. She’d barely slept for fear of Elain walking off this veranda, or leaning too far out of one of the countless windows, or simply throwing herself down those ten thousand stairs.

I don't see Elain showing the slightest bit of effort to be there for her sister and try.

"It wasn’t that Elain was cruel. She wasn’t like Nesta, who had been born with a sneer on her face. Elain sometimes just … didn’t grasp things. It wasn’t meanness that kept her from offering to help; it simply never occurred to her that she might be capable of getting her hands dirty. I’d never been able to decide whether she actually didn’t understand that we were truly poor or if she just refused to accept it." This is what Feyre had to say about her in ACOTAR, Nesta's cruelty was vicious but Elain had always been self-absorbed.

Nesta cleared her throat. “Cassian said it might be … good if I came.”

Elain’s eyes flickered. “Did Feyre pay you, like last year?”

“No.” Shame washed through her. < you see your sister making progress and you think it's a good idea to speak to her that way.

You can agree to disagree. Not every person will like Elain and these are some of my reasons. Has nothing to do with ships, she has flaws that make me dislike her just like how Nesta had flaws that made me dislike her but SJM did not help much by making Elain likable in this book. I understand Feyre not being there much for Nesta, but Elain was the one Nesta was always there for and then when it came to Nesta, she left her alone to be around the Inner Circle and not bother putting effort into trying to help her sister.

If you like her that's totally fine and you shouldn't change your opinion based on mine. Each character has different facets and we all like and dislike different characters based on what we see from them. This is not a hate post, simply a post to show that there is a reason why some people are not big fans of Elain.

[tommyinnit-fic-recs]

Hi uh got any good fic of vampire tommy?

Or just vampire sleepy bois-?

Yeah, I've got a few!

Here they are:

Scorned by AdrianaintheSnow [Rated T, 42484 words, incomplete, last updated November 2021]

A wrist was pressed against his mouth. “Drink,” Technoblade said into his ear, and any lingering hope that he might just kill him here or better yet just let him die from his injuries instead of dragging him back to their sire withered away. Tommy kept his mouth shut. “Drink, now, or you’re going to die.”

Scorned fledglings either had a sympathetic adult vampire take them on as a substitute sire or died. The first was not an option for Tommy. Everyone knew the moment he managed to wiggle out of the cruel grip of his own sire that helping him was a death sentence. In fact, coming face to face with any vampire meant getting dragged back to those who'd laid claim to his blood. Few wanted to go against the Sleepy Coven; all wanted to gain favor with them. His fate was to die on the street at best. At worst... well, that's why he’d ran.

Yet, he ended up blessed by circumstance (for once) with a third option curtesy of his best friend Tubbo whose hands were stained with magic and who was willing to do what was necessary to keep him alive, bloodsucker or not.

The Sleepy Coven by kyoromii [Series, Rated T, 45,417 words, incomplete, last updated November 2021]

Tommy just wants to make ends meet in the dystopian city streets of Manburg. Alongside his two best friends Tubbo and Ranboo.

Unbeknownst to him, a trio of vampires have already claimed him as their own, and a seemingly harmless stroll around the city may mark the end of life as he knows it.

or

Eternity raises no saints.

Things Aren't What They Seem by TheHumanPotat [Not Rated, 32202 words, incomplete, last updated December 2021]

Now don’t get him wrong, Tommy has been in many different homes, but something is just off about this one. Maybe it has to do with the fact none of the townspeople like them, or the fact that they’re just plain out weird. They seem nice enough, maybe a little secretive and off, but that's fine.

He’ll be out of here soon. The Watson’s give off bad vibes with their piercing stares and the absurd amount of “red kool-aid” in the household. The stuff didn’t even taste good. The foods awful as well.

you showed me what love was by wendochist [Not Rated, 67566 words, incomplete, last updated November 2021]

“Y’know… I have them too.” The pinkette mumbled. “Voices, I mean.”

Wilbur stiffened in interest. “..And what do you they say to you?”

“That I can’t let my guard down. I’m never allowed to show weakness lest I wish death on me and those I care about." Techno heaved a sigh, his now gentle gaze landing upon his younger brother. "But I suppose if I hadn’t... I wouldn’t have met you.”

Or, Wilbur and Tommy land themselves a home with the two most powerful vampires, but as they begin to uncover more of their family's secrets they realize that adoption is the least of their worries.

Blood of the Covenant by hydrangea_moobloom [Rated M, 10462 words, incomplete, last updated December 2021]

Tommy’s knees hit the cold marble floor, and it’s over.

The war is finished before it even truly began. Cut off with a quick, ruthless strike. A precision that does not belong to mortal men. Tommy glares up at the three who created all this calamity, lounging about idly as if it is but a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Hatred burns in Tommy’s gut at the monsters. He sneers.

Vampire AU

[strawberrylemonz]

Campfire Tales

Part 3 of my series!  Thank you for 100+ followers!!!

As usual, do ask me any questions you may have regarding this series! 

This is dedicated to both @petrichormeraki and @applepie1000

Enjoy!

Part 2

Part 3 [CURRENT]

Part 4

————————

“You’re gonna burn the ‘mallows”

“Am not”

“Are too”

“Am not”

“Are too”

“Calm down, you two”

Everyone was sitting around the campfire as Tommy brought out the sticks and marshmallows. He had already taken out the rest of the supplies to make snacks and drinks using the fire, doing his best to make sure that everyone was comfortable before he explained his time before joining the hermits.

“You doing alright?”

Tommy stiffened at the sound of being addressed so suddenly. Turning to his side, he saw his older brother smiling up at him. Tommy had been feeling very anxious since the group began their hike up to the campfire, so the sight was comforting for him. He returned the smile to his brother, who extended a hand out to him.

“Let me help you with those, Toms. Just sit down and relax for a bit. You’re probably very nervous.”

Now, Tommy would usually bite back with an overconfident comment, but Tommy didn’t feel like his usual self. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and handed Grian the remaining supplies. Grian, in turn, grabbed the supplies before sitting his little brother down on a seat. Ruffling his hair with affection, Grian handed Tommy some marshmallows before setting off to finish handing everything out. 

“You get near that majestic cat, Iskall, and I will stab you”

“Okay, okay, I’m backing off.”

Peering up, Tommy saw Cleo scoop up a cat, before walking off to sit on a different log seat. Iskall, in turn, nervously laughed as if he just escaped death. ‘Wouldn’t be an understatement.’ Tommy thought with slight amusement. Iskall then turned to Tommy, smiling at the younger boy. Tommy, returned the smile, waving at the man. Iskall saw that as an invitation and proceeded to sit down next to Tommy on the log.

“Nervous?”

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Well, yeah. You started to tone down on the cussing when we arrived at Pirate’s Pier. You stopped cussing in general when we took Captain Puffy’s ship to the campsite, and you haven’t cussed since. You’re also fidgeting around a lot.”

“Shit”

Iskall let out a laugh as Tommy shoved his face into his hands. Patting the young adult’s back with care, he did his best to comfort Tommy.

“Hey, it’s alright. We’ll understand if you decide to stop telling us. But don’t push yourself to either share past your comfort or to coop up all your feelings. It’s not healthy for you, and we’ll all attack you with care and affection until you feel better.”

Tommy barked out a laugh as he playfully pushed away Iskall’s face.

“That’s all you lot have been doing since I arrived. Been acting like I’m your baby brother, or some shit.”

“Well, that’s the case. At least, for one of us.”

At that, the two peered over to Grian, who was putting up the left over supplies with haste, obviously eager to begin unraveling his brother’s pain.

“He seems more hyper than usual”

“I’m pretty sure it’s on the account that he found out that his favorite raccoon is, in fact, his younger brother.”

“I hope he isn’t disappointed-”

Tommy was interrupted when a hand covered his mouth. Feigning irritation, Tommy peered over at the owner of the hand, Iskall. Quirking an eyebrow at him, Tommy gave a pointed look. Iskall huffed before removing his hand from Tommy’s mouth.

“What the hell was that for, Isk-”

“Don’t say that.”

“Don’t say what? Your name?”

“No, Tommy, not that. Don’t say anything about Grian being disappointed in you being his brother. The two of you have been acting like brothers since the day you two met. You guys are two peas in a pod, burrowing in bases together and pranking any fool who let their guard down. He is more than happy to have you as his brother.”

“How can you be so sure when you say that?”

“Because, Tommy, I saw how he reacted. The two of you obviously couldn’t see that well, with the two of you weeping up an ocean-”

“-Did not-”

“-Did too. Anyways, I saw his reaction to putting the pieces together. It was a whole new Grian, one we never got to see before. His facade fell the moment he saw who you were. Something changed in his eyes, and he held you with more pride and love than he ever did before. He’s more than happy to have you as family.”

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows before looking Iskall in the face. He wanted to doubt his words, he really did. He wanted to believe that he didn’t deserve so much of Grian’s love, that he didn’t deserve a special place in his heart. One look at Iskall’s face, however, was more than enough confirmation that he wasn’t being lied to. As much as Tommy wanted to avoid his brother’s love, he knew he couldn’t. All Tommy could do was to just pray to Clara that this brotherly bond would not be torn apart and bombed, just like his last two. He just wanted a family member he could rely on, not one that would break him with betrayal and miscommunication.

“What are you two talking about?”

Tommy peered up to see Grian standing there, munching on a melted marshmallow. Rolling his eyes, Tommy snorted at him as Iskall laughed.

“Talking about how much of a big man Toms is.”

“Hey! Watch the sarcasm! I am a big man!”

Grian snorted before sitting down on the other of Tommy, getting comfortable on the log. The two brothers shared a smile before Tommy faced the rest of the group.

“Everyone ready?”

A chorus of confirmation was given, a single nod to return them. Sighing, Tommy situated himself and cleared his throat.

“I’m severely grateful for all of you, truly. You’ve all looked past the fact that I was a bastard and decided to keep me around. You guys helped me come to terms with things that I once thought was impossible to come to terms with. You’ve all even helped me heal from those stupid, shitty triggers. I really don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t ended up here, especially looking back to where I was at my previous server.”

He saw everyone’s face gain some form of affection at his words. The pat on his back and the hand on his was all he needed to know that he woild go through with this. They’ve housed him and healed him for over 2 years, they deserved to know what they saved him from.

“Alright, it all started when I got an invite to Dream’s server, the Dream SMP.”

————

Grian didn’t know how to react, how to feel. How could he? It’s not everyday that you find out that the amazing big brothers you idolized weren’t so amazing after all. How could the people that vowed to look after their baby brothers turn around and break the youngest one? Tommy claimed that everything was a misunderstanding, and that he deserved his punishments, but no one deserved punishments that severe.

“-I tried telling them how that made me feel, but Technoblade and Wilbur said that it had to stay in the pit. Tubbo tried to tell me that it wasn’t a big deal, but he was terrified of fireworks for so long after that. Not just fireworks, loud noises in general.”

Grian could tell how uneasy everyone was feeling, but they all understood not to prevent the boy from sharing. He had a lot of built up trauma that he tried forcing away, and that wasn’t healthy for him. He had to get everything off his chest, for the betterment of his mentality and health in general. Grian tried not to grimace as Tommy moved onto the death of the president, how he died of a heart attack. Doing his best to make sure his brother was comfortable, he periodically offered the younger boy drink and snack breaks in order to collect his thoughts. Tommy was grateful for these. 

“-He was so mad that we reinstalled a person to be our leader, saying that we betrayed him, but that’s not the case! I promise you it wasn’t! I wouldn’t have intentionally betrayed someone that I saw as my brother, my idol, my...my friend.”

Grian put an arm around the slouching boy and after making a mental note to help him fix his posture offered him a hand. Tommy happily accepted the comfort, trying his best to compose himself.

“And then he...he...”

“What is it, Tommy? What did Techno do?”

“He asked me if I wanted to be a hero. I didn’t even get to properly answer him. I still remember his words, they are forever engraved in my brain. ‘You wanna be a hero, Tommy? Then die like one!’ Then he set fucking withers on my nation, my home. Pathetic, isn’t it? Haha, and that’s not the worst part! That wasn’t even the worst disaster to have happened on that stupid, cursed day. My nation was blown up, and when I had turned to see what happened, I saw Wilbur, standing there, laughing at the chaos. Next thing I knew, dad- er, Phil, he...he killed him. I lost Wilby. I couldn’t save him from his madness.”

His voice had gotten much quieter as he spoke about that painful day. If everyone wasn’t so quiet they would have missed it, the way Tommy’s voice broke and quivered. Trying not to break, he leaned into his older brother, not paying any attention to the height difference. Grian, in turn, was holding his little brother as if the world would crumble if he let go. His brother was dead, the other blinded by his personal morals. And his father, his hero, murdered his son in front of the others. Grian did his best to listen to what Tommy was saying, not wanting him to feel unsupported. He just sat there and listened.

“-He didn’t even say goodbye to me. He just stood there as Dream took me away. Ghostbur went along with me, which I was grateful for, but the company of a ghost can only go so far, especially when it’s of your late brother.”

No one could believe the burdens put upon the shoulders of these two boys. They shouldn’t have had to deal with any of this, yet they were forced to do so. They couldn’t get mad at Tubbo, he didn’t deserve to be despised after having to deal with such a stressful decision at such a young age. Iskall took over trying to comfort Tommy while Grian tried to drink as much water as he could, as if it would drown all the emotions he was feeling. He felt absolutely sick hearing what Dream put his baby brother through. He suddenly felt amazing at being a Dream slayer. He was sure Tommy would find comfort in that. Tommy eventually got to the end of his stay with Techno. 

“I was hoping that he would understand why I didn’t stay, why I had to leave. As much as I care for him, he was feeding in to my negative thoughts, and I had to prevent myself from becoming everything I didn’t want to be. He didn’t get it, though. I still saw him as a friend, a brother, but he only saw me as a selfish traitor. He only saw me as someone who wanted to use him as a weapon. Phil called me a traitor, too, and they took down my tower. It’s okay, everyone sees them as ugly pieces of shit. Tubbo and I began to slowly heal our friendship as we prepared for Doomsday, but that’s when things got weird. As Tubbo and I went on a walk to discuss our plan, some weird portal opened up in the ground. I felt weightless as I fell in, and then I ended up here. I’ve been here with you guys ever since.”

Before he could say anything else, Tommy was engulfed into an embrace. Grian buried his brother’s face into his chest, kissing his brother’s hair as he rocked him back and forth. Iskall joined in and rubbed the boy’s back, Mumbo approaching and supporting Grian and Tommy’s weight so they wouldn’t fall. Xisuma stood behind the two, hand on Tommy’s shoulder. One by one, Stress, Scar, Joe, Tango, False, everyone began to join in on the comfort circle to give support to the brothers.

--------

Grian and Tommy had not detached from each other since the campfire. No one pointed that out, not this time. They just gave the birdie personal space with his raccoon of a brother. Everyone gave the two smiles, wishing them goodnight as they all left to stay in the lodging of their choosing in the adventure park. Tommy and Grian waved at them before turning to leave to their choice in lodging. After a while, they arrived to their destination, the Antarctic Empire. After standing in the hall and debating which room to stay in, they eventually decided to stay the night in Grian’s room. Once the were changed for bed, the two just sat on the bed, unsure whether or not they should talk about something or force themselves to sleep. Finally, sucking in a breath of confidence, Tommy spoke up.

“So, since festival week is in a few months, wanna help me plan our outfits and hand out fliers?”

[frienderbee]

TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCES C!TOMMY WENT THROUGH (ALL DSMP RP AND OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD)

“Raised himself”, canonically said to have no family till Wilbur, kids got canon trauma we haven’t even witnessed

Fought in the independence war- the ages are iffy so either 16 or possibly younger, that would and did traumatise the ADULTS, his age makes it worse though.

Betrayed by Eret, a close friend and a part of what was essentially family to Tommy at the time.

Lost his first life, ouch.

Also witnessed his friends deaths

Had his home blown up (1st time)

Had his prized possessions, possibly even comfort items taken away from him forcibly on multiple occasions and then being forced to give them up for a war he never should have been a part of.

Lost his second life in a duel against an adult who should have known better, in a war he never should have fought in for a country his brotherly/parental figure created

I am very angry at the adults of the server if that’s not clear

Pressures of becoming vice president and helping run a nation (i have always been a c!Wilbur apologist but man am I slipping)

EXILED from his own home for essentially no reason alongside Wilbur.

Henry’s death, pets deaths can be traumatic under regular circumstances but he needed a break as it is.

Watching his brother slowly lose his mind

Wilbur manipulating and verbally abusing him in order to keep him on his side.

Having to talk down his own brother from terrorism

Watching his other brotherly figure and hero who he clearly looks up to kill his best friend and brother

THE PIT (believe it or not i love Technoblade i swear)

He witnessed multiple, I think, of Schlatts deaths

Fought in yet another big battle with life or death stakes.

Watched the nation he built get blown up by Wilbur, the guy he trusts the most and is most loyal to.

His hero, the blade, accuses him of being traitorous, one thing Tommy has never INTENTIONALLY been and something he believes Techno is being to him

His Hero telling him to die for trying to be a hero, something he never actually claimed to want to be, he is just a loyal kid following orders.

Techno setting Withers on Tommy and all his friends and making attempts on their lives

Philza, a hero Tommy looked up to killing the man who took him in and practically raised him, also solidifying the idea that Wilbur really was the villain likely making Tommy feel extreme guilt on multiple levels

Getting arrested and exiled for an act that not only wasn’t intentional but would not have led to such dire consequences if it were anyone else.

I’m saying it again- getting EXILED by his BEST FRIEND when he was still recovering from everything else and clearly not in a good mental state.

OOo if it isn’t the man who frequently hurt Tommy in the past and took his past two lives, let’s give him full control over him!

It’s okay though, at least he still has THE GHOST OF HIS DEAD BROTHER

Getting literally everything he owns taken away from him and blown up in front of him

Frequently being forced to do things with physical and verbal abuse

Being made reliant on Dream of all people

Getting very few visitors, some only there to mock him

SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

Being manipulated into believing no one cares about him except for Dream

Getting abandoned let again by his brother thanks to Dream, and frequently deprived of social interaction, something Tommy thrives off of

Didn’t Mexican Dream, one of his only friends at the time get murdered in front of him?

Multiple suicide attempts stopped by someone who only wanted him alive for fun

His home yet again getting blown up and him losing all his stuff, as well as pets.

Getting abused and blamed for everything by Dream

Having to turn to Technoblade of all people for help

Having Dream literally hunt him

Getting blamed for the community house, confirming his beliefs that everyone hated him, his best friend fighting him and giving up his most prized possession again

Having to choose between a friend and a nation he built (plus falling into the hands of dream)

Having his home blown up YET AGAIN by a BROTHERLY FIGURE who he TRUSTED. WHAT WERE YOU SAYING ABOUT HISTORY BEING REPEATED HUH TECHNOBLADE

Having to fight for his and Tubbos life against his abuser and a literal monster

Nearly having his best friend sacrificed

OH PRISON TIME LOSERS, literally trapped in a small confined space, with his former abuser, with lava, and obsidian.

DYING TO A POTATO

BEING IN THE AFTERLIFE, A VOID, WITH SCHLATT AND WILBUR.

The shock and sensory overload of being brought back to life

Thinking no one cared and seeing his friends seem to be doing better off without him

Ghostbur dying because of his mistake

Wilbur coming back