#probably spelling errors
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Okay, talking on the cutscene from today, I think one of two things could have happened,
Long post incoming, keep in mind I'm a tr!ros main!
Either A: Stultus came and visited her in a dream, asking her these questions and seeing of she has the traits to become their next entertainer, considering the fact that tr!owen didn't want to come back, and the question 'are you willing to sacrifice everything for others suffering?'
Or B: tr!Ros was genuinely dreaming and Stultus was a manifestation of her darkest thoughts. Who questioned her motivations and encouraging her to fall to darkness, and follow through with the thoughts she pushes away, ie killing everyone and tormenting those she hates. They're a manifestation of all the hurt, rage, and paranoia that she's gained over the server. If this theory is true, the reason it takes the form of a keeper is to remind her of this darkness, and 'force her hand' to do things. Her saying things like 'Because of you, I don't have anything to lose' and 'Do I really think that?' and all of her other responses make it sound like it's not another person, it's a part of herself saying this
Dissecting these quotes, first, 'Because of you, I have little left to lose' the delivery of this line is interesting, the slight hesitance before she finishes 'I have. little left to lose' makes it sound like she's unsure, that maybe a part of her knows she has more to lose then she says. Also the way she says 'because of you' to stultus, a keeper we know little about besides from !owen, who was brief, can either be a generalization towards the keepers, the higher beings in control, or if it's B, a dig at herself, for pushing away those she cares for.
In the second piece of dialogue, they say to 'Take accountability and pride in your actions' which is interesting because she has issues with this, she can't see the flaws in her actions, and talks so much about doing more malicious things, but never does.
The slight softness in her question, the way her voice wavers in her delivery, 'Do I really think that?' do *I* is the important thing here, she's not talking about what they think, she's talking about herself, she's finally scraping at her darkest thoughts and processing them.
The next line 'Is this the person I'm supposed to be?' is interesting as well, not what she wants, what she's supposed to be. She always has issues of people telling what to say and how to act and who to be, so the use of supposed to is kind of heartbreaking to hear, because it's not what SHE wants, it's what they want. Who "they" is I'm not quite sure, it could be Stultus, her enemies, or maybe a higher force at play. But it's not up to her.
She gets no reply, and the cutscene ends with a fade to black, leaving her answerless.
#the realm smp#trsmp#tr!ros#roscumber#tr!ros analysis#this cutscene is so interesting#I had to analyze it#the fact that she said supposed to and not want to or becoming#oh tr!ros our girl with 20000 issues#tr!ros sounds so sad#probably spelling errors#also I don't really know too much about Stultus
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i was a ichiji for shots, but a niji for splinters THE DRAMATICS i threw~ this is so messy but i love it that way to indicate chaos... yes that's the reason
ps the tag "vinsmoke get along au" isn't just for the kid strip here! i'm using it as a tag to indicate the quadruplets depicted are ones that love each other and aren't emotionless so feel free to use it yourself ^^
previous/first / next
#one piece#vinsmoke ichiji#vinsmoke niji#sanji#vinsmoke yonji#vinsmoke sora#one piece chopper#yeah they tossed chopper to the quadruplets nobody else wanted to attempt that#reiju and zeff should make an appearance next time!#and yes there is a next time#y'all are crazy i love it#and luckily i love drawing this#and my ten million other au's that i shall have to organize via a pin post at some point yeesh#vinsmoke get along au#there's probably spelling errors my eyes suck at catching them and my carpal tunnel was flaring up#the pen was dying so i was putting more pressure than i should#will probably start typing the dialogue bleh
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Victim can't spell vulnerable.
#alan becker#it could be a really sloppy 'e' but it doesn't look like his other 'e's written elsewhere#it's probably just a spelling error that slipped through#but also you can now hc that vic's not the best speller
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what are they like/first time in bed with HSR men
PART 1: AVENTURINE x F!READER
info & warnings: nsfw/smut, MDNI, aventurine x female bodied! reader, slightly ooc probably, fingering, mentions of cock warming, marking/hickeys, p in v, top aventurine, bottom reader, mentions of riding & gagging, this is long asl, mentions of his past, kinda fluffy in parts, just read it for urself 😓 also this kind of sucks because im still a beginner at writing fics like this!!
aventurine LOVES the thrill, fingering you under a table at the casino? hell yeah. having you sit on his lap ‘innocently’ while you cock warm him? say less. this guy also loves marking you up, to show everybody that you belong to him, it’s also just a display of his true love for you!
i feel like he would have certain kinks that you’d be a bit shocked by- like you knew he was crazy because of his gambling tactics(“i’ll bet my life”), but when he asked you to gag him while you ride his cock .. well, you just weren’t expecting it- but you were into it to be completely honest. then bondage was also a big one of his, he liked tying you up with soft silk ribbons and seeing your pudge get squeezed lightly- and this man likes it too no doubt, tie his wrists up and he’s all yours.
but it took a long time to get to this level of intimacy with him- considering his past traumas. so sex was a big milestone for him, especially with someone as beautiful as you.
most people considered him untrustworthy, and a con artist considering his job as a stoneheart and the mask he puts on. but with you? god. he felt like he could just talk to you normally, and actually relax his shoulders for once.
so the first time with him was very soft and honestly.. oddly romantic?
like roses on the bed type- and that’s stuff he never expected to do for anyone.
“you’re beautiful, [name]..” he would murmur, his head in your neck peppering soft wet kisses, as you straddled his lap on the bed, your head tilted away so he had full access. “says you,” you would tease back playfully, letting out gentle hums of the feeling of his lips on you.
it was slow and sensual, hovering above you now, once he had prepped you with his fingers and stroked himself off for a moment he held your hips, making eye contact with you before he actually put his member inside.
“can i?” he asked you, although you and himself knew it was an obvious yes, he still wanted verification.
“yes, love,” you said, smiling softly at him as he reached his hand over to caress your cheek before sliding back down to your hip.
he nodded slowly, before taking one hand off your hip and lining himself up with his cock and your pussy, before pushing in and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel like cumming right then and there, you already felt so good. you would let out the softest of moans as he pushed in your walls a little further, waiting for you to nod and tell him it was okay to move further in.
“you feel good, fuck.. you feel really good,” he would curse under his breath, letting out breathless sounds of his own. “do you feel good?” his eyes darted up to you- he’d been watching the way you sucked him in for a little too long.
“yeah- yeah, you can move av,”you said reassuringly, in reality you felt butterflies everywhere, your core tightening around his thick cock like a vice already, and you couldn’t wait for him to speed up.
once he heard your confirmation he held onto your hips a bit tighter, allowing himself to go further and finally bottom out.
“ahh-” he let out a moan, biting his lip. you absolutely loved the sight of him, he was truly gorgeous to you. but hell, you already sounded breathless just from a few thrusts.
“baby, faster,” you huffed out, that got a soft chuckle out of him and he nodded, his thumb that was slowly caressing your hip stopped and tightened once again, before he slowly pumped himself inside of you, going halfway out, to the point he could see his slick shaft, before pounding straight back in. it was slow- but it had a definite rough intent with the way your flesh smacked together, making a loud echo.
“fuuuuck.. you feel-… hah,” he panted, going in and out now with an actual pace, but you get the gist of how he’d be, and obviously he had protection.(never forget protection!)
so once that level of trust was established in your guys’ relationship, sexual pleasure became an actual big thing for you both, especially when he’d be gone for a while on trips for the ipc.(once he came home from penacony let’s just say.. best dick you’ve ever gotten from him..)
he had missed you so much! when you both reunited he hugged you tightly, just wanting to feel you in his arms and kiss your lips, to be able to feel and smell your scent again.
usually after, the sex would be rough and very loud, not even words anymore, just his shameless moans mixed with yours as he bent you into a pretzel. but!! it’s just a representation of how badly he needed you over his time away.
he usually says it under his breath, but almost everytime you guys finish, he says “gaiathra has truly blessed me with you,” and it always brings a smile to your face- well, when you can comprehend one.
the end✍️✍️ sorry if this was really lame i just felt like writing this and i also would like to make this a series because star rail men are dndbdbdbbxkskri😍, feel free to request who you’d like to see!! and i’m also always open to criticism and suggestions on how to write better or what to write!
#����𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬#female reader#honkai star rail#hsr#honkai#star rail#aventurine#aventurine x female reader#aventurine x fem!reader#aventurine x you#aventurine smut#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#aventurine honkai star rail#aventurine x y/n#star rail aventurine#honkai star rail smut#hsr smut#star rail smut#i don’t know what to tag anymore#but god this man is perfecttt#live laugh love aventurine#THERES PROBABLY SPELLING ERRORS OH NO#𐙚𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬: 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬#i lob aventurine
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TO BE LOVED IS TO BE CHANGED | DIAVOLO . *. ⋆ ⊹ ౨ৎ˚₊
chapter 1 : lord give me one last chance!
꒰ summary ꒱ It was as if the world was against you. Your bad luck truly couldn’t get any worse — but at least you didn’t have to deal with the political fallout of a missing heir in an unknown realm! That doesn’t sound like something you’d have to worry about.
꒰ pairing ꒱ diavolo x reader
꒰ warnings ꒱ child endangerment ( it’s obvious but don’t drive with a toddler as it was described in the story ), mentions of suicide, mention of drugs, swearing, mention of dubious consent into reproducing a baby — like really dubious from one side and just straight up nonexistent consent from the other ( although the baby was conceived through magic, and not sexually, it was still something Diavolo didn’t have a say in )
꒰ word length ꒱ 4.2k
꒰ author's note ꒱ this is my first series in general so any comments regarding it (or dm’s) are appreciated and encouraged! I would love to hear you guys' thoughts on it
꒰PREVIOUS꒱ ꒰ MASTERPOST ꒱ ꒰ NEXT ꒱
Waking up as the sun rose was never fun.
Today, this daily experience was even worse. Why? Yesterday’s surreal experience was in fact real and not a figment of your imagination. There were still three dead bodies outside ( you were probably being hunted as a result of your decision to go to sleep instead of burying them ) and you still had a baby drooling over you while staring you down with those odd eyes.
A chubby baby hand smacked your cheeks; was this an attempt to get your attention?
That was the first sluggish thought that came to your mind which had just recently woken up from its slumber. Your eyes quickly snapped open as you realized a vital mistake you had made — had the baby eaten anything since he was brought here? You stared back at the baby; the baby stared back at you. The wind rattled the semi-broken window and you felt sweat gather in the nape of your neck while laying down with the weight of the baby in your chest. Was the baby trying to communicate his hunger?
Starving a baby was definitely a criminal charge.
You sat upright with the urgency you had never had in your entire life concentrating into this very moment to avoid going to the place your roommate is definitely rotting in at this time. The baby plopped down to your hands that moved as an after thought to avoid him just rolling down to the bed with the abrupt movement. There was not a single indication in the infant’s face.
Instead giggles erupted from the child who seemed to be the only one having a good time.
At least there wasn’t a big probability of emotional scarring occurring.
You slowly shuffled out of bed while keeping a firm hold on the baby that had now latched onto your ear while pulling it. This wasn’t as bad as it could be — you had witnessed babies throw migraine worth tantrums, and if treating you like a squeaky toy helped avoid that then you would gladly endure it.
“Well…! How do you feel about fried chickens?” This was in fact all you had for food at the moment. It was looking rough for the both of you already and this was saying something considering the dead bodies rotting outside.
A gurgle sounded near her shoulder where the baby was currently leaning his head against, “I’ll take that as a redundant no.”
Yet mornings were usually slow were they not? It was easy to miss things. From realizing that the food that was being held was not appropriate for a baby to realizing the blood of the woman that had throw herself of a cliff had followed a trail away from her body to simulate an oddly shaped circle with bat-like wings and unfamiliar symbols. It was vert easy to miss the odd way the baby’s eyes glistened when the individual that had witnessed it refused to acknowledge it.
Ignorance is a bliss.
Or at least this was what you kept repeating to yourself as you avoided looking at the dead bodies for a second time in fear of throwing up once again. The baby clung to you tighter while leaning over your shoulder — gently you guided his head to rest lower so he was not leaning over your shoulder and staring at the repeated tragedies that occurred last night. Perhaps he would not remember it when he was older, but you preferred not making anyone feel any unnecessary turmoil.
The sun was brighter than ever while you attempted to walk up the marked trail up the hill. Your heart hammered in your chest as you fanned the baby with a make-shift fan made from paper — you were more worried about the child fainting on you as a result of low sugar levels and the sun blistering with frightening intensity than yourself getting a sunburn.
Let it be known that all of this effort was not made because you liked the way the sun was slowly roasting you like pig, nor were you fond of the way that the rocks throughout the trail dug into the sole of your very thin sandals. The reason why you couldn’t simply stay in the cabin after calling the emergency number was because your phone had smoked itself out?
You were still not sure how that had happened, but the again you were no technician genius either. In one second you were about to dial the emergency number and in the next second there had been a bright light coming from its side — comparable to a spark of electricity — this had caused you to yelp and throw the phone to the bed. Then it just — well — started letting smoke out without stop for a couple of minutes before quietly dying out.
Throughout this experience the baby had remained in your arms, initially actively playing with your hair by pulling it. However, as soon as you had grabbed the phone the pulling stopped slowly until a glance to your side revealed that the baby was quietly staring at the phone with an adorable pout.
After you had thrown the phone to the wall you immediately used both of your hands to hold the baby in fear of him getting startled and crying out. Yet, strangely enough the only reaction you had seen was a clapping of hands before he went back to pulling and twisting your hair. With shaky hands you tightened your hold on the baby and thanked your luck that the baby was young enough to not realize any possible danger which could cause it to start crying.
“You’re behaving so well,” You muttered with a thankful smile as you opened your back seat of your car that had been parked in the ‘designated parking place’ according the woman who had let you rent the cabin. You then stopped, your arms that had been lowering the baby even after seeing his hands clutching your shirt tightly also froze in place. How were you gonna legally and safely transport this child in your vehicle? You did not have the correct or proper car seat for baby.
At this moment you had managed to place the baby in the back seat and just in cue the baby started hiccupping while making grabbing hands to where you were currently sitting. You let your hands hide your face as you sighed loudly realizing that it was either taking your chances and wait for a random person to pass by this very much isolated part of the road, which could take days of waiting in the side of the road, or take your chances with putting the baby in very much unsafe driving conditions.
At this time the baby had finally started stopped hiccupping.
Why? The baby had crawled out of the sit and reached towards you to latch onto your pants that were on a reaching range for the baby as a result of the car door being open while you stood quite close to it while deciding which of your two options were the lesser evil.
A delighted squeal came from the baby that had now latched onto your leg like a baby koala.
‘Were babies supposed to be this strong?’ Strong wasn’t the right word you were looking for, but it wasn’t too far off. Every time you managed to get him to unlatch him from you he came back even clingier. You would be a little bit more annoyed had you not witnessed his caretaker? mother? split her head open in front of you. It made your heart ache just a little bit every time you think about the idea that such a lively baby experienced loss at an age where it couldn’t even be registered just yet.
Resentment built up inside you as you remembered who else was involved with this. Your roommate better not have had anything to do with the suicide of that woman. The police officers were not too eager to give details regarding what had occurred, and well now there was no way you were going to get any information from them now.
“Come on,” You sighed as you attempted to remove the baby from your leg. A pitiful whine was heard coming from the baby that had quite literally taken your leg hostage, “I know this is scary but the faster we get to the nearest police station the easier it will be.”
You didn’t feel too smart right. Especially considering you were attempting to communicate with the baby.
Unsurprisingly the hold that baby had in your arms did not ease in the slightest, because he was a baby. A miserable sigh left your mouth as you stepped back from the back door of your car and closed it with a loud ‘thud’. You walked around your car to get to the front seat — throughout all of this the baby remained firmly glued to your leg. You were not willing to accidentally harm the baby and possibly look more suspicious with the already three deaths that had occurred in your presence. The last thing you needed was child abuse added to possible charges. If you weren’t able to get him to be unglued from your leg under those ten minutes then you’ll simply stick him in the passenger seat so whatever separation anxiety is going on will be put to a momentarily stop.
“It’s okay,” You muttered with what you hoped was a reassuring tone of voice, “Don’t be scared — everything will be okay.”
Everything will not be okay. Because apparently nobody who reached their hundreds was capable of being left alone with this baby without wanting to kill him.
The drive was the most nerve-wracking that you had in your entire life, and honestly you would rather for it to never be repeated. It felt as if everything you were feeling was increased tenfolds. From the anxiety regarding the possibility of an accident occurring (on the very much empty road ) or the police stopping you and taking you go jail for doing the very much sensible decision of driving with a baby in the passenger seat with only an average seatbelt for protection ( even though a police officer would be quite helpful to deal with the mess left back at the cabin )
You ended up parking in a random gas station after remembering that the passenger had not eaten.
Probably long enough for it to be concerning.
The tattered clothing that the baby still had continued to bother you, but really the rest of the clothes that you had brought were probably not of the right material to cover a baby with — especially when they had such sensitive skin.
You unbuckled your seatbelt and paid no attention to the other car that was parked long before you arrived.
Slowly walking around the car you opened the passenger door and failed to suppress a helpless smile after seeing the baby squeal in delight after seeing your face pop up over the window. At least someone was having a nice time.
“Hello to you too.” You answered with a slight smile, now on better spirits now that you had found a place that at least had some chances of having baby food.
The gas station was surrounded by quite the amount of trees. Now that it was around noon it was easy to observe the place and what laid around it. However, you doubted the same could be said at night — what an eerie sight that must be.
You unbuckled the seatbelt of the baby ( still surprised that you had the bad luck of running into somebody who could let you borrow their phone ) and instantly had your hands full of him. You were left dumbfounded as the child that had been calmly sitting had managed to lunge at you and imitate a koala with the way that he was holding your left hand.
It was adorable if not a little a little worrying. Babies usually were this clingy right? You sure hope so — the faster you can solve this situation the better.
You decided to shrug and simply adjust your hold on the child to have an easier time closing the door and walking around without fearing the baby would fall.
As you closed the door you heard another car’s door closing not too far away from you.
This was ignored by you assuming that the car was already leaving as it had been here even before you arrived. You hurried your pace and bounced the baby in your arms as a way to entertain him and keep him calm. The branches that were quite near to the entry snapped under your feet; branches snapped behind you.
You ignored it once again.
The bell rung above you as pushed the door open and stepped into the door. The air was moist and the window was opened next to the clerk who was an older man that was leaning backwards in his chair as he read a book.
He looked up and made eye contact with you. This man didn’t seem as interested in conversation as some may assume due to his clerk position; instead of a verbal greeting he simply nodded at you and went back to his book. While usually you would appreciate this short and precise greeting from people — this wasn’t the best occasion for such thing. You looked around the store and located no other employees that you could possibly ask for a phone to use.
The reason for your weariness? There was a big bold sign that said, “No bathroom or cell phones call without purchase first. No exception!
You of course could push more and if it really came down to it you were sure you could win against the old man to wrestle the phone out of his hand.
But — three dead people.
Did you really want to test your chances exposing to the police why fighting the old man was necessary?
You didn’t see it as something worthwhile when you could simply buy a pack of gum under a dollar and make a call in the same minute. With a smile overtaking your face you walked through the second aisle which had the pack of gum at the front of its row and snatched it with glee.
You turned around and a man was standing where you had just walked through. He was taller than you and had odd tattoos in his harms, it imitated what you would image a beginner’s artist attempt at drawing the sea would look like. He was dressed plainly in a way you hadn’t quite seen anybody before. You were not someone to judge but something about this man was odd — perhaps it was the way that the simple loose white pants with no patterns were paired with a even looser white shirt that made him stand out more due to how simple it was.
You shifted uneasily and adverted your gaze. Last thing you wanted was to look like an annoyance by this man. You were hyper aware of the way that the baby in your arm tried moving around to look at what you were looking and it was only because of your hand that he was stopped from doing so. You gave him a strained smile and attempted to walk through the aisle that you were currently in to avoid walking past him.
He just kept standing there.
Looking at you
You wanted to bash your head against a rock after you saw how his head moved to follow your steps while you walked. As your heart hammered in your throat an odd movement caused you to shift your eyes to where his forearms full of tattoos resting.
They moved
The tattoos moved
The fucking ink—
Your breathing stopped and so did your heartbeat. For a second you both stayed still — you weren’t quite sure you were seeing correctly. The ink just kept moving in his skin almost imitating the movement of snakes.
A cough was heard from the front of the store and that was dragged you out of your paralyzed state.
You breathed in
You breathed out
You tightened your grip on the baby who was trying to move in your hold
And you sprinted for the door.
Were you on drugs? No.
Was he on drugs? Maybe.
Did you want to take your chances and see if it was a hallucination or not? Hell no.
You were a firm believer of “when I see it I’ll believe it.” That wasn’t about to change anytime soon.
The baby in your arms yelled at the sudden movement before abruptly turning silent. The store wasn’t too big or too small; it would take you less than a minute to reach the door sprinting. Any trace of weariness regarding whether you should have taken such a drastic action was wiped out when your ears picked up on a set of steps that were rapidly approaching you.
There was only four people in the store. You, the baby, the old man, and this creep. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who was sprinting after you.
Your breathing picked up and so did your heartbeat. You could almost feel it at the back of your throat.
“Wait—“
Before he could finish shouting whatever he had to say the light above him coincidentally decided to just explode. You didn’t look back and managed to run past the old man at the counter who you briefly saw ducking under his desk — probably assuming it was a robbery.
As you stormed outside and kept booking it for your car you had no time to notice how once the man attempted to follow you by pushing the door open the door had abruptly slammed against his face — having gone in a direction that it wasn’t supposed to go in while also using an unnatural force to slam against your aggressor’s face.
( Later when you have managed to find someone to allow you to use their phone you would think back at what had occurred in the shop. While you reluctantly gave the baby away ignoring his sobbing and tight tiny hands holding onto your clothing — the police would be able to take care of him better than you could — you were also trying to ignore your clammy hands as you thought about the odd encounter in the shop )
( You had a lot of time to think about what had occurred; too much time was in your hands while being in a cell. Enough so to dream about the baby you had taken care for a couple of hours screaming and throwing a tantrum while being in the hands of a random police officer. What did left you waking up with a jolt was seeing the same officer have one of their TV quite literally explode in their face.
You didn’t sleep for the rest of the night. A day later police officers would be dispatched to check your story of the three dead bodies and it would ultimately be ruled as a accident )
( You didn’t quite notice how the officer that had appeared in your dreams had never gone to work in the three days you were held there for further investigation nor the way many others seemed to avoid touching the baby or getting close to it at all )
——————————————
Federico Benini was in a bit of a slump.
It wasn’t his fault of course.
Had those two been able to stick to the plan and stick the dagger through that demon spawn nothing else would have happened. There wouldn’t be five dead bodies as a result of that thing and he wouldn’t need to play hide and seek with a random non-magician human.
He didn’t have time for this!
They had somehow managed to get the Great Solomon into these brainwashed agenda of cooperating with the demon realm. Demons can’t be cooperated with — not when they are the epitome of punishment and selfishness in the world. Just like it has always been this interaction between mages and demons will end in misery for the magic-filled side while the demon rejoice in their misery.
There was no benefit to gain from having more controlled interaction by the demon council and their little prince that likes to act as a king. Which was why once he realized just which royal was backing and even founding this stupid little program he had decided to put a stop of it. One way or the other.
Federico wasn’t stupid either.
He knew just who was in the prince’s pocket. Someone known for their unnatural ability to just know things that shouldn’t be acknowledged or understood.
He couldn’t just quite go through the assassination in the old fashioned way and poison him or stab him in the back. Federico had to be more astute than that.
And what better way to do so than to simply reach the demonic prince through his bloodline. Obviously his father was out of the picture, but — a descendant was not. And what better way to do so than a human? Someone that had no idea that they were being used to have underlying intentions; someone who was in a vulnerable position and easy to pursue to a cause. Federico couldn’t have met Laura Bolton at a better time.
Someone recently out of jail without many friend or families that would miss or notice her being missing. A few honeyed words was all it took to convince her of a greater purpose she had to fulfill. It was quite pathetic.
And they thought that mixing demons with the naivety of people like this was a good idea?
He was doing everyone a favor — it was just that now in particular nobody was seeing it through the right point of view.
His point of view.
Blood was sacred by many communities — demons weren’t an exception to this. Why? It was quite easy to exploit your weakness if your blood was in their hands. Similar effect can be achieved through a close familiar tie.
Like a spawn.
And there was more than one way to get this to happen of course. He doubted the prince was idiotic enough to just sleep with a random human — no matter how much he claimed to like them. So Federico just had to create a situation of close proximity between the two and get his hands on the prince’s blood. Just to finally get rid of that program and the even more idiotic prince with it too.
That was the purpose of the ritual.
It wouldn’t be the first time killing a child for the greater good so he wasn’t as phased as others may have been — he made the rookie mistake of allowing huge outside member, Laura, to be present in the ceremony and witness the sacrifice that would bring balance to the three realms once again.
Killing the child and the father in one go.
Only to have Laura in the end back down and sprint away from the ceremony with the baby in her arms. He was furious, seething even. After all they had planned and worked for this plan she had the audacity to ruin it?
Federico would make sure that death would be mercy after he was done with her.
( He just didn’t account of the other member in the group to have enough of a opposition against his plan to go ahead and snitch to the demons but also run away with the child in her arms too! )
( It would only be discovered after he saw her mangled body at the bottom of a cliff. In eternal suffering — for helping those wretched creatures )
( He was quite full of sorrow at this sight — it only served to strengthen his resolve really. This was what caused the influence of demonic creatures, it had to be stopped one way or the other )
#this probably had 10 spelling errors I need to get a beta reader#rip to that random police officer it really was just a tantrum of a baby with extra powers#obey me shall we date diavolo x reader#diavolo obey be shall we date#obey me diavolo x reader#obey me lord diavolo#diavolo obey me#obey me diavolo#obey me x reader#obey me shall we date#obey me!#obey me#om! diavolo#diavolo x reader#—RUBYTALES
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Family Resemblance
But like look at the concept art, the resemblance is crazy


#this is what he meant when he said he had suspicions about Kazuma’s identity#now I know van Zieks probably never actually saw him without the mask on#but the clothes were probably from him?#lots of van Zieks-ness to them#the mask basically has the Asogi crest on it though so that was probably a Stronghart thing#also I find it interesting that van Zieks says the MD is not allowed to speak to anyone from outside that room (the prosecutor’s offic)#spelling error whoops#anyway doesn’t that imply that he can speak to van Zieks?#something I’ve thought about often#the great ace attorney#ace attorney#tgaa spoilers#dgs spoilers#tgaa2 spoilers#dgs2 spoilers#the great ace attorney spoilers#barok van zieks#kazuma asogi#sorry to everyone who isn’t following me for ace attorney#the brain rot has got my by the jugular#don’t worry though I’ve still got other stuff in the works
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Marauders characters as a conversation I had with my friends
Lily: It's mufti tomorrow right?
Mary: yepp
Lily: Thank u!
Marlene: The temptation to say no
Mary: yeah who knows maybe im lying
Marlene: Yeah
Lily: Pls don't lie guys, my heart can't take this. 😂😂
Remus: It's mufti I promise xx
Marlene: No it’s not
Remus: Ignore her Lily
Remus: I'm telling the truth
Remus: She's a liar 🐀🐀
James: neither are telling the truth.
Marlene: welp
Sirius, drunk: What is truth
James: i am truth
Sirius: Woah
James: 😈
Peter: I feel like the concept of truth being evil is not a good thing
Remus: well i mean all truths can be evil if they negatively impact someone which all truths probably do if you took in the impact that they have on every single human being if they were placed in that situation
Regulus: You negatively impact me
Remus: i negatively impact myself bae join the club
Barty: HA real
Sirius: Although who's to say what evil is? Perhaps the people being negatively impacted are evil. Then maybe the truth isn't anymore.
Barty: yes bae get on that
James: I'm too tired for philosophy.
Regulus: im too tired for you but i dont see you shutting up.
#btw if youre not british mufti is non school uniform#i copy and pasted this dialogue so the spelling errors are real#the confusion i had making this with a friend named lily#marauders#marauders era#harry potter#sirius black#regulus black#james potter#remus lupin#lily evans#marlene mckinnon#mary macdonald#barty crouch junior#barty crouch jr#peter pettigrew#wolfstar incorrect quotes#marauders incorrect quotes#incorrect marauders quotes#inccorect quotes#wolfstar#jegulus#probably#conversation with friends
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arguments with toxic!rafe when you’re just as toxic as him.. he’s humbling you rq 😭.
all day he was experiencing the silent treatment. as much as it was your fault, you were still pissed. he failed to pick you up from a party last night and completely left you stranded until you ultimately decided to just get an uber. when you were blowing up his phone, he ignored you each and every time. shit, he probably even blocked you at one point.
now, he’s sitting here all in your face telling you how childish and self centered you are. as if that’s not one of the reasons he’s so obsessed with you.
“rafe get out of my face.” you warned, pushing his head with your hand.
“no. you always wanna start this shit for no reason then act innocent.” he responded as he followed you up to the bedroom.
ignoring his words again, you attempted to make it into the room by yourself and lock him out. but to your inconvenience, he was right up your ass.
you didn’t even have the chance to reach for the door behind you because he pushed you inside the room, walked in, then locked both of you inside.
“who the fuck you think you are pushing me?” you turned around real quick to push him right back.
it’s no use, you could try it all you wanted but he was too sturdy and too big to even nudge a little.
he lets out some air from his nose, and brushes his hand over his face. “we’re gonna talk this out. you understand?”
he points a finger in your face while he talks. usually this would piss you off, but right now you could see he was desperately trying with you.
“fine.” you agreed then went to sit on the bed. he sat down next to you and wasted no time talking.
“the attitude changes and accusations have to stop. you know why i didn’t come to pick you up last night.” he starts.
“actually i don’t-”
“im not done speaking.” he cuts you off. you gave him a look that said ‘boy watch yourself’ but he very much ignored it and continued.
“you know how much i love you? how much i worry about your safety? i didn’t even want you to go last night. matter of fact i told you not to.”
it seemed like you heard the same stuff each argument, but he knew none of it ever stuck. he was determined to get you to listen tonight.
“what did i say before you left?”
“to be ready by 10.” you said in a quiet, almost embarrassed voice because you knew you were the one wrong this time. would you admit that? hell no.
“exactly. but you wanted to have your little outbursts and argue with me and tell me i was being too controlling. and obviously you need that structure. right?”
you nod but you still weren’t about to give up that easily.
“okay but-”
“but nothing. i told you i’d be doing business with barry after the fact.”
“any other boyfriend would’ve stopped and came!” you tried with him.
all he did was scoff, “so that i don’t have any money, and then you would cry everyday since you don’t have the newest bag in stores? real funny. i’ll save myself the headache.”
you couldn’t argue with him because he was most definitely right. being you, it was still gonna take you another hour or so to apologize. or, he could force it out.
“whatever.” you said while getting up to go start your nightly routine. you didn’t make it very far because rafe was quick to grab your arm.
“not so fast. what do you say?” you stood there for a second just looking at him.
“hello? i know you’re not mute all of a sudden.” he smirks at you being straight hardheaded. it would piss another man off, but he found it amusing with you. and he wouldn’t trade it either.
“i’m not apologizing.” you finally said. you were hoping for the right response to this, and he didn’t disappoint.
“no? well i guess that means you’re gonna have to get it fucked out of you.” he shrugs, then quickly lifting you up and onto the bed. before you knew it, your panties were off and he was already starting with the hickeys on your neck.
smiling at how fast things were going, you still wondered when he would realize why you loved to pick arguments so much.
#i highkey hate this#i just wanted to try ! 😖#this probably has spelling errors so ignore pls!#barbiiecams#drew starkey#outer banks#rafe cameron#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey drabble#drew starkey fic#drew starkey fluff#rafe cameron blurb#drew starkey headcannon#drew starkey angst#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron angst
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reading tftsa is always an emotional experience especially when you get the short stories focused around the Blackthorns because the absence of Mark just bleeds out. like when you read about Julian being Helen's suggenes and Simon being the witness to Julian's parabatai ceremony you are just burdened with the knowledge that that's not who they would have picked if the circumstances were different. in a different life it was Mark.
#I think about this all the time & it just makes so sad#like Julian picking Simon of all people because he didn't know who else to ask :(#because everyone he would have asked is dead or taken away from him#also as much as Helen loves Julian there's no way he was her number one choice#like. it was Mark it would always be Mark the brother who she knew before she was even Helen Blackthorn#I wonder if Julian understood that obviously Helen would never say that but Julian's clever#probably did not help with his insecurities surrounding Mark 😬#on the other hand. imagine how Helen felt#in another life he's your suggenes in this life he's not there at all#and he's never meet (?) the love of your life and you can't even mourn him because he's not dead. he's just not there.#ignore the spelling errors I'm not editing any of this#bella talks#tsc#the shadowhunter chronicles#helen blackthorn#mark blackthorn#julian blackthorn#simon lewis#tales from the shadowhunter academy#tftsa
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me every time I miss the t on my keyboard and type "rhis" or "rhat" and autocorrect doesn't fix it
#sorry this meme idea has been plaguing me for days. had to make it to give myself some peace.#jack jabbers#you can tell im a scooby doo kid because this dog lives in my mind rent free#meme#scooby#scooby doo#scooby doo meme#funny#lol#ruh roh#i guess im scooby#spelling errors#autocorrect#listen tagging this much is embarrassing but i think this is probably one of the best memes ive made and i want ppl to see it 😂
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Disposal of Angelic remains!?
A question I get asked a lot is about the disposal of super natural creatures. It’s always awkward when you dabble a little too much in magic tombs and now there’s a dead book-wyrm on your floor. However it’s a particularly confusing subject when it comes to angels and co. Here’s what you should know:
Angelic remains - such as wings or blood - is essentially like magic-nuclear waste. Call a local monster-hunter organization about the disposal and cleaning of your property, if anything angelic died on your property it is… probably not safe? In the past you could use feathers for weapon-smithing and spell crafting but recent regulations make it so the usage of these products can be highly illegal depending on where you live. So it’s best not to sell or use em 👍
"I inherited a pair of taxidermy angel wings, am I cooked?” yes, because that’s so cheesy but in actuality it is most likely not real wings. In the 1930-1940's monster hunters didn’t have as many regulations when it came to celestial bounties, yes it’s morally wrong but the ‘reward’ socially or psychically from this hunt was big. Most display wings were actually swan wings, as it was very wasteful to use angel feathers for anything other than holy blades.
Speaking of which…
"I’ve come into possession of a holy weapon, how do I dispose of it?” Now, I’m not a nark, so I’ll tell you a secret. You can own holy weapons - it’s not illegal. As long as you DO NOT use them and DO NOT sell them you’re fine. If you want to properly maintain them I will be releasing a guide on the maintenance of holy firearms later this year, once I get the material to fix my beaut’ . AND, for the record, if you do want it disposed of, there is quite a few programs created with the goal of disposing dangerous magical artifacts who would love to help.
"I bought an angels heart off—" jail. I don’t think I have to explain why.
Now, about the corpse itself, there is a few things to keep in mind before you call a huntsmen.
> any property that had angel blood in it is considered, ‘stigmatised’, which in the business is code for really fucking cursed. If you feel sick at all after coming into contact with angels call a professional.
> angel shedding / or “cruelty free” wings are a SCAM. Trust me bud, have you ever met an angel who isn’t a massive dick? Why would they give anyone their cool shit. Not only is it STILL HIGHLY ILLEGAL TO BUY IN THE STATES but it is most likely just spray painted animal feathers.
> angels are like tree trunks where you can see how old / powerful they are by how big their wings are. Trust.
If you have angel blood CALL ME, I’m not a cop we can work something out.
#dc rp#ic rp#angel#I actually hate the word angel now#OOC: there is probably so many spelling errors SHUT UP I DONT SEE EM
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In Light of Day
Follow-up for In Shade of Moonlight I had thought lost to the ether years ago (although if you want to read this whole scene from start to finish, Something Like Home is the start of the evening referenced in the fic, followed by First Steps and then In Shade of Moonlight but god. I haven't gone back to edit them please lower your expectations they're old.) Once I found it, I couldn't stop picking at it until I eventually had to just post it already. Hopefully I'll get more of what I've already written posted at some point.
Post 3.3, pre-3.4, it's the morning after the festivities. While there is no hangover to be found in Borel Manor, yearning that spilled over in the moonlight is now examined and re-examined in the light of day. Duty and Devotion are inextricably tied, yet where one can so often subsume the other, other times either may be consumed.
Word count: 4,400
~*~
Serella was relieved to find the sun was rising to greet her the second time she opened her eyes that morning. As mind and body reconnected, she found herself bundled into blankets beside another warm body and comfortably in bed rather than flung to the floor in her sleep. She took in the sight of a barely-familiar room and the faint creak of howling winds pressing an old house, and she knew with immediate and delightful certainty that the previous night hadn’t been a dream.
More pleasant still was the weight of Aymeric’s arm slung over the curve of her hip.
Truly, it was always the small mercies that kept Serella aloft.
With great care so as to avoid waking him, she negotiated the slide of his arm to drape across her back, that she might turn to watch him sleep. There was no force strong enough to stop her from smiling as she took in the sight.
Bereft of the waking world’s worries to weigh on him, his features were slack with rest and smudged into the pillow without care. Once removed from the mantle of his station and free of the pinch in his brow, he almost looked like a different person entirely. In a kinder world, he might know this feeling even when awake—but then, so would she.
Her hand itched with the want to run her fingers through his silken curls, strewn wildly all over and haloed in the morning light. He looked so utterly endearing to her in that moment, with an almost boyish pout pushed into his full lips by the pillow he burrowed into.
Serella felt her heart squeeze. Two things occurred to her in that moment, one right after the next: that she had never seen Aymeric so utterly unburdened and unreachable to the rest of the world, and she wanted to do all in her power to make more moments like these, if only to hoard for herself like a dragon.
Assuming such a thing would even be welcome.
If last night had been a fairy tale, this morning was the stumble out of the fairy’s circle. The moment where everything became real again, and the world was sustainably imperfect.
Still asleep, Aymeric shifted such that his other hand knocked into hers in the scant space between them. Even in dreams, the touch was enough to curl his lips in an unguarded smile he half smothered into his pillow, fingers flexing for a fleeting, blind search of her.
But time was liable to take notice of Serella if she further entangled them. If not time, then certainly duty or any number of things that would rip her from this peace. Rather than risk it, she gathered the pillow beneath her in a white-knuckled fist. As she watched the gilded fingers of dawn blindly fumble for the shape of them through the parted curtain, she prayed the city—the realm—would forget them a little while longer.
In this liminal space between what she had dared to want and what was real, scars from flesh to marrow and deeper still threatened her with their phantom pains. Muscles in need of stretching burned, and the chill in the air threatened to make every joint ache the second she left the blankets. Bones creaked in protest after being still for so long in sleep when she tried to address those aches that howled first. For several long moments, her body was caught in its own space between thrumming soreness from stillness and lancing ache from movement, waiting for the worst of both to ease.
And from below the monotonous agony, a long-standing anxiety welled up from the pit of her rib cage to form a roiling bubble of intrusive thoughts that pressed at her throat. The what-ifs began to whisper in her ears again. Despite her best efforts, what had been muffled to a distant buzz in the previous eve’s heady rush was given crystalline clarity in light of day.
For her heart was but a muscle, and it ached like all the rest.
Such worry always came on the heels of vulnerability. Of course it did; fear was an old and familiar stalagmite that had gradually emerged from the pit in her stomach through years of buried feeling being left to itself. Crystallized and jagged monument of unaddressed pain that it was, its sharpest and highest facets had long since lodged themselves in the spaces between her ribs. To dislodge even a piece of it, something inside of her would surely have to break. The morning light bounced off its raw facets in her mind’s eye, sending her vision swimming with spots until she realized its true source was the thinning of her own breath.
To persevere in silence would be to welcome the press of a blade to her heart, trusting that it would not be run through—and oh, how Serella had bled in the past.
It wasn’t as though the fear was unfounded, even knowing Aymeric to be a good man; blunt though the instrument be, duty could well be what he might wield to beat all they were back to the shadows. Worse—it could well be his expectation that she was of like mind.
Surely not—surely not. And yet…
If Serella had been wrong to let herself be vulnerable, to want—if she had guessed wrong again—
Scratching at the door ripped her from her spiral so suddenly that she nearly jumped. No doubt it was Duchess, whom she heard rumbling from the depths of the manor last night.
A more insistent scratch came as if in answer. Serella strongly suspected such a temperamental old thing would start to yowl if her demands weren’t answered in a timely fashion.
She knew the type.
Peering back at Aymeric, who seemed yet unperturbed by the sound, she found even the thought of waking him to border on criminal—and he doubtless would once Duchess kicked up enough of a fuss.
The lady of the house needed feeding, and Serella was already up. No sense in robbing him of what little extra sleep he could find, after all. Not when her anxieties were so chatty this morn as to already rob her of it.
Decision made, she eased herself from the loose tangle of limbs and tucked the covers around him as he continued to doze. When he pawed at the empty space left by her absence, she compensated him with her pillow. Once freed of darling and duvet both, she slid from the bed entirely with immense care and only minimal popping sounds from her joints as she ambled over toward the door.
Sure enough, Serella was met with the lady of the house peering up at her once she’d eased the door open. More fur than feline, she sat at the doorway like a prim little tumbleweed with indignant green eyes, all dense fur patterned with beautiful mottled browns and brushed to its utmost fluffiness.
“Good morning.” She greeted, slipping out into the hall and twisting the doorknob to soften its closing behind her. “Breakfast?”
Mrr, Duchess rumbled in assent. Serella felt it in the floorboards.
“Well go on, then,” she said with a gesture to the hall, “I know you know where it is.”
With a thump of her tail and a wheezy huff, the acting Viscountess trotted off down the stairs. Her house guest followed gamely, hopeful that she behaved as most cats would and make a dash for her food at the promise of being served.
Blessedly, Duchess was no different: with a startling amount of speed for her apparent age, she made a beeline down the stairs and around the bend to a specific cabinet in the kitchen just beside the pantry. Once sat primly before the little door, she began to paw at a worn patch of scratches at its bottom corner and look up expectantly with the widest, roundest eyes that she could and the softest trill she had managed thus far.
Oh, this was manipulation if ever she’d seen it, doubtless perfected over eight lifetimes’ worth of practice on family and guests. Must have the same teacher as her owner, Serella mused to herself.
After a brief scan to find her feeding bowl—full but for the emptied center of the dish, of course—Serella was soon scooping an appropriate amount of food for the lady.
“Your breakfast, madam!” She said, presenting the bowl in a with a flourish.
Duchess sniffed up at her, nearly thankful, before promptly burying her face in the kibble and paying her guest no further mind.
“You yet possess your hand.” Aymeric’s amused voice drifted in from behind her.
Startled, Serella spun to face him with eyes wide and hands held up to her heart as if she had been caught doing something wrong. It was effortless to find her ease when she saw him leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed and a sleepy smile on his face.
“Of all your accomplishments, that may well be among the most impressive,” he teased with a chuckle, “not even I have managed unscathed every time.”
“I’ll count that as a personal victory, then.” She said, at a loss as to what else to say.
Though she wore a set of his pajamas, she might as well have not changed from her gown last night for how reverently he looked at her. Even at barely seven bells in the morning and doubtless with a bird’s nest in her hair he still looked at her as though she were spun from starlight and woven in his dreams.
Her gaze shied from his, all at once overwrought with raw and tender ache.
“I’d hoped to avoid waking you,” she explained as if she were trying to get out of trouble.
Which was silly, she knew. She’d only fed his cat.
“Seems my stealth could do with a bit of work, though,” she added with a lame gesture between them.
She wasn’t even sure it was meant to be a joke, but he offered her a huff of laughter all the same.
“In truth, your absence woke me more than you leaving,” he admitted, his smile turning bashful when his gaze demurred as he added, “though the decoy was almost as charming as hearing you through the door.”
His ears flushed a faint pink when he glanced back at her and explained, “I reached for you—and when you were not there, it alarmed me.”
Not entirely unreasonable—she had flung herself off the bed in the middle of the night. He’s gracious enough not to mention it.
“I would have otherwise been tempted to lounge with you all day,” she mumbled, and felt near feverish for how hot her face burned at the admittance, “if I thought we could get away with it, at least.”
It seemed to please Aymeric greatly, however; as his smile grew wide enough for his eyes to crinkle at the corners as he looked at her in full again. As if that helped him decide something, he pushed off the doorway and moved closer with steps merry yet unhurried.
Serella still startled when he stopped within arm’s reach. He could have already made contact with her, yet he hesitated, as if wondering what she would do.
Nothing. She did nothing, save for white knuckle the counter behind her with the want to.
She wasn’t surprised at her struggle with letting that last wall between them fall, not after a year or so of skirting around one another. Not with her thoughts swarming her head like an agitated hive. Understanding it did not ease her lamentations. Did not quiet the buzzing.
“That may yet be arranged,” he murmured, unaware of her struggle.
His hand drifted to skim the thin shirt sleeve she wore with his knuckles, his expression almost shy. At no point on its dutiful march down her sleeve did his hand make contact with her. She felt the comet’s trail of his warmth all the same.
It wasn’t until the tip of his finger hooked on the cuff of her sleeve in a vague pantomime of holding her hand that she realized she had let go of the counter behind her. Startled, she looked up at him with a thin gasp to find him already peering at her through his lashes.
Holding her gaze steadily, he asked, “...If it should please you?”
It’s too early to be this sweet, she huffed at him in her mind.
She shivered despite the warmth of his knuckles against hers when his hand drifted those few ilms lower. Under his attention, her heart felt both deeply tender and fit to burst.
“It would.” Serella said softly, though refrained from giving in to the temptation to unmake the scant distance between them entirely.
Last night had been…perfect. Beyond perfect. Sharing their hearts, even an onze, even for a moment, had been more than she had ever dared hope for. In the light of day, where the dream was over and yet they still remained, she could hardly contain the affection she’d withheld for so long. Just the effort of it made her skin burn.
And yet…
That sharp, anticipatory pain in her heart where the blade could well find its purchase seized her bodily in that moment. The fault lines where it would break from such piercing groaned in warning.
Aymeric seemed to sense her hesitation, as he dropped her sleeve and moved a few ilms away. The hollow space where she had meant to lace their fingers together howled yet she could not force herself to move before at least this fear could be exorcised. She had no more room to bury it, and it would not help her exhume the rest.
“I,” she tried to croak though the words tangled in a lump in her throat.
Swallowing it, she tried again, “I don’t…I don’t know what you hope for us to be.”
At that, Aymeric stilled with a short yet shuddered intake of breath. Even his aether seemed to recoil in response but what startled Serella most was that for all the emotions that rippled along the surface of his heart, surprise was not among them.
The tangle of feelings radiating off of him was familiar—too familiar; not for the first time, she had nearly missed it for how similarly his struggle had mirrored her own. That tense anticipation for pain, the pre-emptive flinch before impact, she could feel every twitch that spoke of routine. The morbid vindication of ah, and there it is, to greet disaster after awaiting it for so long.
Expectant rather than dreading. Because this had happened to him before, she remembered.
In the few seconds it had taken her to make the connection, he had thinned his breathing, as if to make himself as scarce and unobtrusive as he could in this moment. Already, his body language began to shape itself in the familiar form of an apology, starting with the inward flinch of his shoulders.
Even blind, she would feel the way his aether roiled and his stomach dropped out from under him. Sensitive to it all as her Blessing had made her, it was impossible not to know the waves of his emotions as they crashed into her.
In a grim way, it was reassuring: he was just as much of a nervous mess as she.
Suddenly desperate to soothe it out of both of them, she took his hand and chose to be brave.
Body and soul, that surprised Aymeric. He could not catch his expression ere it crossed his face.
“I want to be with you.” she said—and though the words felt strange, like tasting an old secret on her tongue, she relished in the relief at saying them.
The breath left him as though he were struck, even as he beamed at her. As if given permission to breathe again, his chest rose with the slow, relieved inhale that left him in a sigh so deep as to sag his posture.
“Serendipity itself,” he said on the tapered end of his exhale, more air than words.
His hand was gentle when it brought hers to his lips. His warmth splashed across her knuckles in soft breaths as he kissed them once, twice, thrice in reverence.
“I want much the same—it feels at least a lifetime that I have yearned,” he admitted against her skin, peering at her through fanned lashes and a deep flush.
Relief and happiness crushed her heart from all sides at his words, enough that for a moment the swarm in her head scattered in dissaray. How could such an otherwise even toned and collected man have such infectious joy? The nerve of him. The unmitigated gall.
Turning her hand within his hold she instead curled it to cup his cheek. When he leaned into the touch and eclipsed her hand with his own, his lips sought her palm as though they were made solely to kiss it.
Her thumb traced the angle of his cheekbone as she struggled to find the words to say to help him understand. His thumb idly mirrored her movements, blindly pacing the length of a scar on her thumb he had come across as if in a trance as his lashes fluttered.
Seconds passed in the sort of sunlit slowness that moved like honey on a spoon, but Aymeric was eventually stirred to shift within her hold and face her fully. All syrup-slowness, his lashes lifted to let him regard her at length.
“You have concerns,” he said at last, his eyes still searching hers.
“Only one.” Serella answered, relieved and horrified all at once for his perceptive nature.
“I imagine you will find more in time, yet if there is only the one for now, then I would hear it.” he said, and let her hand slip from under his when she pulled it away. “I would help you find your ease.”
Words swam in her head, only forming coherent sentences at certain angles through the muck of her fears.
“I don’t…need any grand gestures. Nothing…announced.” Serella fumbled to explain, the words clumsy and anxious. “And I don’t want any of that—gods, it makes me anxious just to think of—“
“You are not one for ceremony.” Aymeric agreed, smiling.
Serella nodded. Wetting her lips, she tried to persevere, saying, “And—and I know there will be times where professionalism is more important. For both of us, really. I would want that distinction regardless, lest we be accused of corrupting one another’s stations.”
It was his turn to nod. “I agree,” he said.
“But that—” she cut herself off with a wince, bracing for the fall with a deep, steady inhale as she said in a rush, “that doesn’t mean I would be content to be hidden.”
“…Hidden?” Aymeric asked, and it was obvious he was taken aback for the way he almost physically jumped at the thought.
“I only mean—“ Realizing she was wording it poorly, she flustered. “I—I’m not really making myself clear, am I?”
“You are—I am merely struggling to see.” He reassured her.
With a tilt of his head, he asked, “Help me understand? How—why in the name of the Fury would I hide you?”
“It’s just…we’ve fought so hard for so long to reveal the Holy See’s secrets—both small and large.” she began slowly.
“A victory that has cost us much.” he agreed in a soft murmur.
“And…I don’t know if your station allows you to have room for me—but—”
Wetting her lips, she finally sighed and said, “for how hard we fought for the truth of the Theocracy, I would not want us to be the Republic’s first secret.”
Realization dawned on his face for the briefest moments before melting away into relief.
“Ah,” he sighed, gently, before asking, “is that what it was?”
When Serella looked at him again, his smile was impossibly soft.
“Aye,” she said, posture slumping over as the last of a sigh left her, “that’s it. My one concern.”
“Certainly a valid one, but permit me put it to rest.” Aymeric said, reaching for her again.
The first brush of his fingers on her face was enough for the tension in her shoulders to snap with such a force she almost felt lightheaded. Her head fell into his palm like the architecture of him was made to hold her.
He waited until she met his gaze before speaking again.
“There is naught preventing me from being with you, so long as we both wish for it.” Aymeric said, his hand soft as it stroked the apple of her cheek. “Nor would I ever wish to hide—I do not even think I could. Not after,” he flushed clear to the tips of his ears as he finished the sentence in an almost mumble, “not after so long pretending. I could not go back.”
She flushed in kind and resisted the urge to hide her face in his hand. Or his chest. Or the countertop. How many times would she be made to damn his earnest nature before noon? Before the sennight was over? Before the world ended?
May it happen enough that I lose count, Serella prayed.
“Well, then,” she said around a hum, “consider my concern addressed.”
“Good.”
He smiled, though the relief that rippled through him felt tentative to Serella.
“Do you have concerns?” she asked with a tilt of her head and an arch of her brow. “Since we’re clearing things up now—which, by the way, an important start to things, I should think.”
“...Only—only one for myself as well,” he said slowly, all the ease that had found him leaving in fits and starts.
As if wandering, his hand drifted to her hair and began to twirl a lock of it loosely around his finger. His gaze focused on his fidgeting.
He only did that when he was uncomfortable with what he was going to say next, she noted to herself; it was the only time he would ever look away from the person he was speaking with.
“I had not thought to address it—I presumed it was taken as given, but—“
“Better to say it,” Serella said. “Whatever it may be.”
“You have the right of it.” Aymeric agreed, even as he seemed almost reluctant. Still, his tone was even, almost detached, as he explained, “I would never want you to enter a courtship with me bearing—“
“Relationship.” she said.
When he looked at her in surprise, she added, “If you feel the need to court me to make up for lost time, I certainly won’t object, but I’d argue the past year or so has been exactly that. More or less.”
“…Relationship, then.” He said, and for all his trepidation, that seemed to please him greatly. “With perhaps some courtly romance for lost time.”
Though the troubled expression hadn’t fully left his face, even the thought of their bond had let joy rally in the corners of his lips. The melancholy almost immediately regained its dominance as he slowly continued, “I would not want you to agree to such a relationship bearing any misconceptions as to my…dedication.”
“...I don’t follow.” Serella admitted with a shake of her head.
“Pray do not misunderstand,” he pleaded, and she felt his anxiety in her throat. “I would never do aught without consent—“
“I know,” she reassured him. “I trust you.”
“That does not mean, however,” he spoke like it tortured him to do so as he said, “that I could always prioritize you over aught else. If at all, really.”
“Hmm?” She arched a brow—not offended, but still not entirely sure what he meant.
He must have taken her confusion as offense, because he spoke with just a tinge of desperation, as if frantic to articulate, “For however deep my feelings for you might run—so long as I hold even one office—” he winced before continuing, “—never mind two, I cannot hold you above my duties to Ishgard.”
As she thought. She resisted the urge to laugh, knowing how upset he was and how that would look. He had little and less to worry about in that regard—or at least, just as much to worry about as she did, which all evened out in the wash so far as she was concerned.
“Even were I not an officer of the Maelstrom,” she began, searching for the words, “as the Warrior of Light, I have to ask you much the same: can you feel comfortable, knowing I must put not only the needs of Limsa Lominsa but also the realm over you? That I most often must answer to a title before I can answer to my name?”
Aymeric blinked owlishly at her, and then she did laugh at his incredulous expression; clearly he had been so caught up in his own fears he had not perceived aught beyond them.
The sweet fool, she thought with infinite fondness.
“I can,” he said, almost excitedly.
“Then promise me,” she said, moving to lay a hand over his heart. “That you’ll never prioritize me over Ishgard and Her interests.”
“I swear it,” he said.
With a huff of relieved laughter he kissed her forehead.
His eyes were alight with relief and crinkled at the corners with his smile when he spoke again, “promise me in kind that you will never place me above the realm.”
“I would never,” she said—and spoke true.
As if her words dispelled his every trepidation, he smiled in that way that felt like the first rays of sunshine after endless rain.
“Any other concerns?” She asked, her grin returning in the wake of her relief. “Any at all?”
“None,” he responded, at last crossing those last few ilms of distance and curling his arms around her. She met him readily, hands smoothing away the singular cowlick in his hair. “None whatsoever.”
“So it’s us, then?” she asked, both for clarity and because she would never tire of hearing it. “For as long as we want?”
“Please,” he breathed, barely getting the word out before Serella discovered her new favorite feeling: his laughter, humming gently against her lips.
#ffxiv#i am as ever your shield#serella arcbane#aymeric de borel#wolmeric#ffxiv aymeric#ser aymeric#my writing#what. do i even do with tags anymore.#when I found this buried in an old email I sent to myself from a debunct work email. from like 2019. it was at like 1.9k#and I was like 'oh wow this'll be a nice little ficlet I'll just edit and clean it up a bit'#I said. like a fool. like a RUBE.#tbh it needed it tho. she had so little internal dialogue initially and it felt wooden to me.#I basically didn't touch the dialogue but it was almost *only* dialogue#it's wordier but I'm happier with it#and there's probably grammar and spelling errors all over but my eyes are blind to them at this point for how much I've reread it#and I have to get it OUT before it gets even bigger
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Finally found the time to upload this! Design Concepts for the Post canon time travel AU Jayvik rp.
The premise of the AU: After the end of Arcane, Jayce and Viktor get sent to the past in a alternative timeline, a few days before S1 Jayce raids the shimmer factory and before S1 Viktors experiments with the hexcore kills Sky. A lot of chaos is caused as these traumatised timetravelers tries to prevent the worst from happening in this new timeline and cope with all they have gone through.
S2 Jayce and Viktor got the nicknames Defender (Fender by Vi and Cait) and Herald respectivly to avoid confusion with their S1 counterparts. S2 Jayce thinks his nickname is stupid but It stuck, he is getting used to It.
Design notes and context:
*Viktor can put on and remove his Herald mask at will by splitting and reforming his face.
*Viktors extra eyes can now open after an incident were Jayce almost (kinda?) died while destroying the new timelines hexcore.
* The Hexcore stabbed Jayce in the chest, damaging one of his lungs and his heart. Viktor used his magic to put them both in a Arcane Cacoon to safely heal him and save his life. Part of Jayce's chest is now metal, including the damaged lung and half his heart.
*During the same incident, Ambessa threw a spear at the cacoon, piercing It and hitting Jayce straight through the throat. Viktor managed to heal this, but Jayce was physiclly and spiritually unconscious for multiple days. His throat is now also metal, causing his voice to have a slight echo to It.
*Jayce's leg also got affected in the healing process as a side effect. It is now fully metal and is less painful, but his balance is still affected due to the severe damage of the leg, so he uses a cane for support. His leg brace got fused into the leg during the healing process.
*Viktor got the light pink/pale lavender hair color after a later incident were he used a overcharge of Arcane magic to once again save Jayce.
*Jayce has a custom Runic Glove that Viktor designed for him. It allows him to channel arcane energy through It to cast basic spells. (More details in a future post)
*Jayce's cane is part of his new hextech hammer (More details in a future post)
*The cog on their throats is meant to be the original cog from their first hextech experiment. Viktor split it and fused the pieces onto both of them to symbolise their devotion and love. It was in practice a marrige proposal, so they are both technically engaged! : D
#arcane#jayvik#jayce talis#viktor arcane#jayce x viktor#timetravel au#this was longer than intended#a lot has happened#in this au#should probably find name for it#Jayce has had a lot if close calls#Viktor is getting worried and annoyed#Viktor: can you please not be risking your life for 5 minutes!#I apologise for spelling errors
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Okay I’m being ✨delusional✨ and people have probably made this take before but I’ve been thinking about this for months and my silly little “Terzo is Ghost’s John the Baptist” headcanon is firmly lodged in my brain at all times. So! If as the montage at the end of the ghovie kind of suggests, Papa V is going to be Copia’s twin brother and the clergy has a history of killing off previous Papas if they’re seen as getting in the way (this is probably just a thing that they did so Copia could take the the lead but let me run with it for a bit) who’s to say Papa V won’t see Copia as a threat to him? It’s established that Copia didn’t want to give up the papacy and the band, so what if Papa V wants to make sure Copia never gets the chance to take it back from him like Nihil did to Terzo? Am I rambling about this because I was presented with Copia’s previously unknown twin brother and a statue of Romulus and Remus in the same montage and also I’m desperate to make a Cain and Able connection? Perhaps. But in my defence you can’t put a shot of a statue depicting Romulus and Remus, infamous fratricide doers, in front of me while also revealing that Copia apparently has a twin brother and expect me to not go full Charlie Day Pepe Silvia.
Alternately, what if it’s Copia that kills Papa V specifically so he can take back the papacy? What if Papa V becomes more successful than him and is more respected by Nihil, maybe even actually loved by their father, while Copia is still just Copia to him and he kills Papa V in a fit of jealousy. Maybe Papa V brings Ghost to new heights early on in his time as Papa (maybe he even wins a Grammy) and he makes fun of Copia for having the band and the papacy for much longer and achieving less and Copia kills him for that.
And maybe, MAYBE, I’m talking out of my arse and reading into it way to much as I am wont to do. But I’m having fun and that’s the important thing :)
#the band ghost#the band ghost headcanons#papa emeritus iv#papa emeritus v#again. this is probably a very obvious theory/headcanon but I wanted to post it anyway#I’ve been thinking about it since I first saw the ghovie and every time I watch it since#it haunts me. it sits in the back of my mind at all hours#also if there’s any spelling/gramatical errors in this be nice. dyslexia is kicking my ass today
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Good morning gorginas i just posted a quick one shot <3 link
#IF YOU ARE ONE OF THE FIRST ONES TO READ THIS YOU NEEEEDDD TO TELL ME IF THERES SPELLING EROORS#*ERRORS. OKAY#bcs im bussyyyy and i did not have the time to rereread. but I know they’re probably in there bcs im sooo messy#hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#fic writing#sera hazbin hotel#emily hazbin hotel#archangel michael#michael hazbin hotel#so fun to actually post something. jeeeeezzzz I’ve been doing NOTHING istg 🙄#i love writing dream sequences so much if that was the only thing I could do forever i would
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I’m here again, this time announcing a more public apology using the tags I am frequently seen on in hopes this will reach my desired audience. reblogs would be greatly appreciated so hopefully this will find the people that have me blocked so they can hear from me directly. yesterday I posted an apology linked on my pinned post explaining my behavior and the whole situation. basically, I explained that the people I have blocked are blocked because of my mental health. these are the people I have received a plethora of death threats over and in the midsts of my common sh-ing and terrible mental health I have blocked the people I am getting threats over to stop any contact so I can focus on myself and my health for the time being. I planned, that when I eventually felt better, they would be unblocked and I would formally explain myself to them and greatly apologize for the issues I have caused. unfortunately I have realized that they took matters into their own hands and decided to call me out and spread accusations about me. I have lost a great amount of followers and received death threats to a great extent you would not believe if I told you. I sincerely apologize for anyone I have hurt in the midsts of dealing with my health and I understand that I am now universally hated on here, I truly do, because blocking people without reason or a reason as simple as just my mental health is supposedly “not reasonable” enough to be a full excuse. but it’s the gods honest truth, and I promise you that I am trying to better myself but if you have ever struggled with health issues, you may know it’s not very easy. if logging out is what I must do to keep the composure on here then so be it because apparently I’m not very liked by a lot of people anyways so I think my parting wouldn’t have too bad of an affect over anyone (excluding my lovely mutuals and the followers that are still with me, I love you guys). so again, to close this up, I am apologizing for the way I have acted and I hope you understand my side of the story. whether you believe me or not, that is up to you, but I only felt like publicly apologizing and explaining my actions would in some way help for everyone to understand what’s happening
#prue speaks ੈ✩‧₊˚#there’s probably spelling errors I wrote this fast#xoxochb#percy jackson x reader#jason grace x reader#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez x you#jason grace x you#percy jackson x you
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