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kafkaoftherubble · 1 month

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185.2章：放下？还是压抑？可贺，抑或可悲？

// Chapter 185.2: Detachment v. Repression

This ramble concerns To Your Eternity manga Chapter 185.2. It is edited from a conversation between (yea you guessed it) @bestbonnist and me after the chapter dropped before I had to hastily run off because sorry gotta see shits with my Besto Furrendo! Lisan al-Ghaib! Lisan al-Ghaib!!!

Although this chapter is devoid of hype moments—unlike C184.1 where plenty of us were sent into a frenzy— and good old macabre, this is genuinely one of my favorite chapters to date.

Because it became a really nice philosophical discussion between friends. Sounds a tad cheesy when I say it like that...

(1) Two Different Perspectives on Fushi's Latest State of Mind

Ray expressed dismay that Fushi's coping mechanism seems to gave become even more terrible because they are essentially repressing their emotions. They are telling themself not to feel anything and to be detached. In the Wish Era, Fushi seemed to have become more resigned to their fate, which became starkly apparent when contrasted by the Doll and Andy's loud, outward desire to see Abel live.

That dismal observation actually stunned me—because I happened to see this development in a positive light. What better state of mind should Fushi aspire to attain apropos to their immortality... if not a state of non-attachment? After all, if they don't learn to be so, then the sheer impermanence of life will torment them forever. To me, non-attachment—or in a more English-natural manner of speaking, detachment—is a goal worthy of pursuing, even if it is often fraught with erratic instances such as mistaking "repressing one's emotions" as similar to "being genuinely unperturbed."

----

(2) The Benefits of Attachment

In this story's universe, attachment keeps a person's faie (their soul) around.

Hence, to Ray, Fushi's loss of attachment implies their death (which I agree is a reasonable projection for the end of this story). When they no longer have anything to do—no goal—then it is time for them to move on.

But more than that, there's this other thing Ray is worried about. The manga asked whether Fushi is human, especially in its earlier exploration. Whether they think they are human. Therefore, it's hard to see Fushi's detachment as anything other than dehumanizing themself ("I'm not human so I don't deserve to be attached/feel bad when people I care about die.") It's one step to Fushi's progression into becoming a deity at the expense of their humanity.

This prospect is upsetting because they wanna see Fushi leave as a human being, as someone who dies after living a satisfying life like Yuuki did.

Ray also argued that there's a difference between acceptance and detachment. "Acceptance is acknowledging that something is out of your control and acknowledging that the way you feel about that." To them, Fushi seemed to have acknowledged that something was out of their control, but they hadn't yet acknowledged their feelings toward it.

Then, they conceded that while Fushi was frank about being pained by people leaving, ultimately, the dude seemed deadset on trying to ignore that pain altogether. "Fushi isn't good at being 'above' feeling things!"

I agree with this. Of course, they aren't! One of Fushi's powers is supernatural empathy. They can't ignore the sensation of pain or (occasionally) love in their vicinity even if they try. Feeling shit is what they do, willingly or not. And from an emotional connection like that, one easily forms attachments.

---

(3) The Common Error: Mistaking Detachment with Apathy

Strangely, at that point in our conversation, it became clear that Ray thought Fushi should not be detached because it stops them from accepting death—while I think Fushi should learn to be detached because it helps them to accept death. Same destination, but different ways of assessing detachment as a path.

Now, of course, when I use the term "detachment" or "non-attachment" (preferred), I'm once again drawing it from a Buddhist philosophical perspective. Because dude, it's me, 睿得失。You fucking signed up for this the moment you talk to me, bwaahhahahahaha!

Even Buddhists, born and raised, often make the mistake of conflating "equanimity," which non-attachment encourages, with "apathy."

One of the four sublime qualities (brahmavihārā), equanimity (upekkhā) is the state of being unwavering and unperturbed even in the face of loss and gain [1], good-repute and ill-repute, praise and censure, and sorrow and happiness. Its far enemies—as in, its direct contrasting vices—are greed and resentment. But its near enemy—the quality mendaciously close to equanimity—is apathy.

[1] Just a little aside: this is why I joked that Fushi should take up my self-given Chinese name in our conversation. 睿得失 means "being wise (about one's) gain and loss." The hope of attaining some semblance of upekkha is built into the name already.

Plenty of people think being detached means being uncaring and indifferent, and that it has some elements of dehumanization to it—be it to other people or to yourself. But it's not. Being detached is to keep a balance between concern and coercion. It's expressing compassion while being mindful not to conflate your genuine care with your desire to will things and people to bend to the state or situation you wanted.

Fushi and us mortals could easily realize one fact about life: it is truly impermanent. The desire to impose our will on the universe—as if there is some supernatural feature to our will that can influence things to happen—is a source of agitation. Life doesn't bend to our will; it indifferently stays impermanent even when we demand it to be permanent in some sort of personal bliss.

In Buddhist thought, it's our actions and intentions that impart changes. Our will (and our demanding desires) don't. We'll revisit this in our 5th Chapter later.

In other words! Contrary to Ray's interpretation, I see being detached not as imposing a limit on your compassion but liberating it from constraints. Now that you're detached, your mode of compassion is centered around the situation and people as they are, not as you hope them to be. True compassion asks for nothing in return—not because you suppress your demands, but because you genuinely have none to begin with.

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(4) Fushi's Laudable Baby Steps

What really made me think that Fushi had grown here was their insistence that whether Abel lives or dies is "his decision to make."

Not Fushi's, despite their god-like powers. Not Doll or Andy, despite their love and attachment to Abel. It's Abel's choice. All Fushi can do is to accept whatever the man says—and that acceptance is only possible if they begin practicing detachment. After all, attachment results in the reactions Doll and Andy expressed.

To me, Fushi is taking a step in the right direction already. This is the kind of wisdom I think an immortal, most of all, should gradually pick up (I also think mortals like us should, too, but that's beside the point).

Here is where I think Ray's criticisms warrant merits in my interpretation: Actually practicing detachment/non-attachment is hard as fuck. I wouldn't deny that though it doesn't make you an apathetic non-human, you're not gonna be very normal-humanlike if you manage to be equanimous either. While learning to be detached, one often takes up a lot of problematic tactics and mistakes it to be detachment.

One such misguided tactic? Suppression of emotions. You force yourself to pretend you're not feeling anything instead of facing them and realizing their falsity while believing you're being detached. So Ray's concerns are completely warranted, because I don't believe Fushi has consummated their learning either. They wouldn't have lied about the massacre if they were really that detached.

Repressing your emotion, as a tactic, is wrong, but it is the hallmark of someone who's trying to get there, especially when you compound it with the philosophy Fushi was articulating. They care. But they are also being clear-eyed about the limits of their demand.

I don't think they seem resigned here. I think they are being wise. Baby steps, and their method is imperfect, but good nonetheless.

----

(5) Yuuki the GOAT and His Biggest W Yet

Fushi grappled with wanting to impose their will to make others live as long as they in the Modern Arc, right? That's one of their biggest and most constant sources of dukkha (dissatisfaction/suffering). But Yuuki's satisfying death and life... actually steered him in the right direction!

Fushi didn't come to earn detachment because of some horrible, tragic death turning them jaded and cynical. They learned because Yuuki's life and death were that fucking good.

Learning philosophy from pain is all well and good. It is usually how people learn it (few would give a fuck about existentialism or Buddhist philosophy or stoicism or what-have-you if they weren't in a personal crisis). But learning philosophy from joy is a whole other thing. Whatever you learned from that instance has no hint of jadedness and cynicism to corrupt your thinking; it's like making a decision when you're at the most optimal state.

This is Yuuki's victory. He influenced and taught Fushi without giving him pain or trauma to live by. He was not some main character of a tragedy despite outwardly looking like a bumbling normie.

Think about it: none of the Immortals who were attached to Fushi, until now, had been capable of influencing and teaching them without accidentally leaving some grief, pain, and trauma!

Why does Fushi take on Yuuki's form so much lately—if not because Yuuki is the only one who managed to teach them without the use of pain or trauma or anything like that?

And as Ray pointed out, Yuuki was the form embodying "Peace." Even his death was offscreen and peaceful. On a bed, unpoisoned and unhurt. Fushi remembers him constantly because he makes them feel at ease.

"It's our actions and intentions that impart changes," that was what I mentioned in Chapter 3 of this long-ass ramble. Here it is exemplified. People inherit the fruits of other people's actions (and you yourself are one of those who will inherit your own actions, too). And well? These are the fruits of Yuuki's actions that Fushi continues to reap even now.

That's how complete Yuuki's W is. He managed to leave just the kind of food for thought for an Immortal that eventually set them up to grasp the kind of wisdom they lacked. Who says the Modern Arc has no lessons?

----

(6) Conclusion, or The Abrupt Ending of a Conversation

As you can tell, I really don't think Fushi's latest development is bad. Bittersweet and a bit of a mixed bag, sure, but I ultimately think it's commendable rather than worrisome. Of course, my ass interpreting things through a Buddhist lens has a lot to do with it, but brutha, this is exactly my niche! You should have seen me talk about non-self vis-a-vis Fushi in a YouTube comment section!

Ray did leave this paragraph that had eluded me because, again, the Muaa'dib was calling me and I really gotta go:

"I have a potential counter-argument for you, which is about how Fushi's ideal person to follow is kind of a mix of Yuuki (as you explained) and Kahaku (bag of mess and you haven't read that part of the present era anyways), which is putting the concept of detachment together with a really selfish kind of selflessness (as we talked about). But I'm not clear on whether that's still there after their fight with the left hand. I feel like it's lingering a little but I haven't seen much evidence for it in the wish era."

Now, I don't really know what that whole bit was like because I didn't actually read all of the Modern Arc—just the latter half. But again, "detachment" and "self-lessness" are complementary and forward-feeding to one another in Buddhist Philosophy, so on this concept alone, I don't see a clash.

I should probably clarify what Ray's "selfish kind of selflessness" meant here, but... I'm kinda tired now. And I've briefly touched on this in my essay about... Gojo Satoru, goddamn it.

Or maybe Ray should explain it themself! I distinctly remember someone owing me like, 3 essays or something. I'm such a kindhearted person I'm willing to give them a discount and accept just one essay for this week, though. Don't squander it, you!

Thank you for reading my ramble.

----

Did you enjoy this? If yes, wouldn't it be really fucking cool if you get to read essays and commentaries like these, alongside fanfic and fanart and other interesting bits, in one place?!

BECAUSE! We are thinking of starting a To Your Eternity zine! It's merely in its Interest Check phase, but you gotta fill this form up so we can see just how many people in our modest little fandom want this! Be a supporter or a contributor, it don't matter at this stage! Support is the currency here!

#Honestly even before I started writing this I wonder if I *should* ahahhah #Yesterday it seemed like a really prime essay material!#Today? Suddenly call its meaningfulness into question ahahhahaha #But man this work deserves a lot more essays than it's actually getting. It's sad that it doesn't even have enough! WE NEED TO REMEDY THIS!#Me trying to fill the void is truly a 蜀中无大将廖化作先锋 moment. “An underqualified person answering a call because there's no one better.”#or in Jujutsu Kaisen parlance: I'm fucking Kusakabe holy SHIT #AT LEAST I DON'T HAVE TO SAY “Throughout heaven and earth I am alone"...........#.....until I'm attending a convention as a TYE fan #fumetsu no anata e #to your eternity #tye #fushi #fnae #manga spoilers #Wish Era #buddhism #yes a buddhism tag because fuck it. This is a lecture in and of itself!

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scarefox · 10 months

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Uh Oh 👀

did not expect that crossover

#this movie is so trashy in the classic horror sense but we got a Mr.Unlucky x Eternal Yesterday crossover #aw damn now I am rooting for them to survive #i didn't plan to be on anyones side #Grand Guignol #spoiler #Sota Ryosuke #Komiya Rio

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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months

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— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.

▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.

▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.

most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.

reader / tav is always gender neutral!

▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.

ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel

no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.

❈ ASTARION ;

Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.

Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.

And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.

You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.

Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.

In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.

You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.

Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.

"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.

"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"

Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.

Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.

Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.

"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."

"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."

"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."

He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.

"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."

❈ WYLL ;

it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.

For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.

You liked getting under his skin, after all.

You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills

Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.

It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.

He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.

Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.

Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.

It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.

And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.

Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.

"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."

He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.

"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."

You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."

You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."

It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.

"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.

"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."

You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.

"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"

"Sorry to disappoint."

He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.

Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.

❈ GALE ;

Gale is always the poet, never the muse.

He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.

But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.

When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.

He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.

When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.

It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.

But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.

Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.

Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.

It has a special effect on Gale.

In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.

"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"

"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."

The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.

He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.

He's glad he's alive. To feel you.

"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."

He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.

❈ SHADOWHEART ;

You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.

You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.

Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.

Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.

Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.

Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.

She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.

She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.

You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.

Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.

She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.

You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.

She loves you more than she cares to admit.

"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"

Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.

"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"

She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.

"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"

"I think it more often that I say it,"

"And you always think to call me that?"

"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"

Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.

"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.

"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."

You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"

❈ KARLACH ;

Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.

She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.

Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.

Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.

Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.

And you always explain them to her afterwards.

You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.

The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.

With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.

You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.

She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.

"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."

"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."

Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.

"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"

"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"

The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.

"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."

"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"

Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.

With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.

It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.

"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.

You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"

❈ LAE'ZEL ;

The Githyanki do not fall in love.

It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.

For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.

You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.

Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.

That you'd wait for her.

Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.

Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.

But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.

"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"

You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.

A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."

"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."

"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."

"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."

"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."

She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest

"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"

You return her smile in kind.

"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."

"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."

The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.

▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.

this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!

anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !

#bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae'zel x reader #writing tag #waah. i love them all

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oxymorayuri · 2 months

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❞Sure Daddyyyy❝

OneShot / part two

If you haven't read the first part yet, you can find it here. ♡♡♡

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: 生ﾊﾑ

✦ Pairing: trafalgar law x reader ✦ Warnings: insults, use of alcohol, mature content ✦ Spoiler: nope

wordcount: 4292

description: After leaving the deck, you go to your cabin and curse at the dark haired man, but don't worry, you'll soon get rid of all your frustration.

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ !

"Stupid ass!" You slam the door shut and lean against it with your back. Now that you're alone in your room, you can finally let out all your anger.

You had a bit of trouble getting to your bed because the alcohol was beginning to kick in.

While kicking off your shoes, you fall into your bed and lie with your face on the pillow.

Annoyed, you growl into the pillow and ignore how hard it is to breathe. Yes, you're angry, but somehow you're also exhausted.

Law knows exactly how you feel about him and, more importantly, how you both feel about each other.

What does he have against it? gosh!

Due to the lack of air, you roll onto your back and your eyes fall on Law's jacket that he once lent you. You crawl over your bed and pull at the jacket, causing it to fall off the clothes rack.

It still smells like him. You take in the scent deeply as you snuggle into the fabric. Your eyes fall on the logo on the back.

"Corazon…" you whisper as your long fingers stroke the lettering. You know exactly what special value this jacket has and yet Law left it to you that evening. You remember it like it was yesterday…

[back then]

After what felt like an eternity, you went back to the surface after the Polar Tang had been underwater for weeks. You wanted to feel the sun on your skin, smell the sea and you weren't the only one. The others in the crew were just as excited as you were to soak up some sun again. You and your bestie Ikakku threw yourselves into bikinis and sipped a few drinks in the sun. Even though it was always noisy on the deck, you didn't want to complain, you didn't begrudge the others enjoying their time on deck. And if you're honest, it was always pure entertainment.

You will still have your peace and quiet at the latest when night falls and you are alone with the moon.

The fresh sea breeze gives you goose bumps, but you don't even notice as you gaze dreamily into the moon's watery reflection. With your hands on the railing, you gaze into the distance. The sea glistens and is calm. Something that rarely occurs.

The evening is so peaceful and in moments like these you almost forget the stressful pirate life.

A faint smirk forms on your lips.

Stressful pirate life? Law does everything he can, to ensure that you hardly ever get into any dangerous situations. You have it pretty easy for a pirate crew, even though you're not that weak. You've begged him thousands of times to at least take you with him. After all, you're a pretty good swordswoman and use Haki. Even the famous 'Hawk Eyes', Mihawk, has complimented you on the way you handle your sword.

Law would never say that you're too weak, or rather he doesn't think that you're weak.. Otherwise he wouldn't have wanted you on his team but it's very obvious how much he wants to avoid the subject. He skillfully changes the subject or threatens that if you don't leave the topic, it'll be a month of toilet cleaning.

You don't even notice when the door of the Polar Tang opens and footsteps come towards you. You only notice his presence when Law puts his jacket over your shoulder.

"A little too lightly dressed, aren't you y/n-ya?"

You're a little startled but relax immediately when you hear Law's voice.

"It's not that cold…" you pout a little as you snuggle into his jacket. Your reaction makes him smirk and he turns his gaze to the moon. For a 'brief' moment, your eyes run over his figure.

He's standing right next to you, leaning over the railing with a bare chest and wearing only his typical jeans.

You suspect that he was wearing his jacket until just now. The biggest proof; it smells like him. Your eyes seem to have been on his torso for a second too long as his deep fake cough draws your attention to his face. Law's look tells you that he's well aware of how you're gawking at him and a blush promptly rises to your face.

The rest was pretty unspectacular and basically the two of you just talked until you yawned and decided to go to bed. Just in front of your bedroom door, you notice that you're still wearing his jacket and hesitantly tug at the fabric.

Actually, you don't want to give him the jacket back and he hasn't noticed… You decided that you would give it back tomorrow as you stepped into your room.

[Present]

And yet you are holding his jacket in your hands. It's already been two weeks, but it's not as if you didn't try to give him the jacket back, but he just left it to you. Sounds strange and it kind of was.

You get up and for whatever reason you take off your top and put on Law's jacket, imitating his outfit. It's probably because you're pretty drunk but you kind of like the way you look in his jacket.

The jacket is open but still barely covers your nipples and only a few curves and your belly button are visible.

His words had only confused you more.

"You can keep it with you if you want." He said that to you as nonchalant as usual when his eyes were on his papers… as if you had just told him dinner was ready or something similar. You just stood in his office with your mouth open and uttered a slightly confused 'sure' as you left the room.

"Oh Law you little bitch… I'm not fifteen anymore where I borrow my boyfriend's sweater…" you curse a bit dirty while you greedily take in the manly scent of his jacket, standing in front of the mirror.

"I'm a woman… I want more."

Your anger, your unsatisfied feelings, Law's smell, the alcohol and perhaps your own reflection put you in a rather exhilarated mood. You felt horny.

A knock on your door brings you out of your wild thoughts.

"Hey y/n-ya? Can I come in?"

You rush to the door and pull it open without much thought and Law stands in front of you with an almost troubled look on his face. His eyes run all over your frame as you stare at him expectantly. Annoyed, you put one hand on your hip, while his jacket reveals a bit of your hip. Law's brain is rebooting every second and he takes a small step backwards.

"Listen, I wanted to talk to you, can I maybe come in?" Wow, he can speak… but his gaze remains on your slightly covered chest. He can't quite process the sight, but he can't look away either.

"Hey, my eyes are up here! But of course, come in…" You cross your arms in front of your chest and go back into the room, while Law closes the door behind him.

Over the last few weeks, he has often wished to see you in his jacket, but he wouldn't have expected such a sight. He wouldn't have dared to view you so nakedly and yet you're standing in front of him. Nakedly... His jacket shows just enough of your skin to feed any fantasies.

You don't miss his stare and you decide to be bold.

"Well, do you like what you see?" You walk towards him with dangerously slow steps. Your eyes are locked and neither of you dares to turn away.

Law can't and you don't want to.

"You wanted to talk to me?" You walk right past him and sit down on your bed… He could only catch your beautiful scent.

"Listen, I don't want any tension between us. Not if I leave tomorrow…" - "Then why don't we release the tension together?" You lean back on your elbows with a playful grin. Law's jacket falls further to the side, revealing more of your fine skin to him. For a split second, his eyes go back to your chest, but he quickly regrets that he can't control himself. You're pleased though, that's exactly how you want to see him. Usually you are the one who always have heavy feelings and Law is the one who keeps his cool, but not today.

You run one hand over your free hip and bring your fingers to your breast. Without making a single sound, Law stares at you with his eyes, looking tortured, as if he can't control himself for much longer.

You don't care about anything from now on. You want Law. Now.

You carefully grab the sides of the jacket to expose your breasts. Law comes closer to the bed, right up to the edge, and even though he doesn't look very satisfied, the excitement gathers in your stomach.

"Please don't y/n…" He begs you, full of agony… but his eyes fly shamelessly over your body. His chest rises and falls a little faster…

But you can't help it either. How could you? After all, he's making it difficult for you too.

The way he stands in front of you, with a look that actually undresses you, which he just can't admit. And the sight of him in his black button up shirt, which he always wears slightly open… His eyes follow your movements greedily, even desperately. You know he wants you. He can't deny that.

But before you can expose yourself, Law grabs your hands and stops you. Your world is shaken for a moment, because Law is suddenly very close to you. His stormy gaze pierces through your skull and you notice a slight anger rising in him.

"Stop y/n!" He orders you. You're pretty good at the anger thing too, if not ten times better! You push him away from you, causing him to take a step back and you stand up. You don't let him refuse you any longer and with quick steps you brazenly fall into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck and your bare chests meet.

"I can't do this any longer Law. Please don't push me away from you." You whisper your words to him as you reveal your most desperate wish.

You're being too much for Law right now, especially since he's leaving the crew tomorrow… But he's actually only doing it for you. He has to do it.

"y/n please understand. We shouldn't be doing this. Who knows when I'll be back…" His words leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

You avert your eyes from him, feeling so exposed.

"What if I don't come back?" he searches your gaze and takes your chin to pull your face towards him. A little hesitantly, you look into his eyes.

"I don't care if today might be the first and last time, Law." Law can tell from your eyes how serious you are.

"What if I break your heart y/n? I have plans. Plans that are dangerous." He caringly strokes your cheek with his hand.

You enjoy his gentle touch and it leaves a warmth that doesn't seem to disappear. You hate it when he's like this… People say; live like it's your last day… but Law hasn't understood the real message behind it. Law lives, as if he could die any day and that's why he keeps his loved ones away, so he doesn't cause too much pain if something goes wrong on his missions.

"Law, I don't want to keep wondering what could be, what WE could be. I don't want to live lies…" You rest your hands on his chest and Law wraps an arm around you, to pull you closer to him. He leaves no space between the two of you and you're not sure if you can feel your heartbeat or his.

"Are you sure?" He looks like he just wants to make sure you're ready to take that risk. His voice is almost desperate, as if he will break if you pull back.

"Oh Law, even if it is just once." Law puts his hand over his eyes as he leans his head back. Apparently he is still struggling with himself. Groaning, he runs his fingers over his nose as he squints his eyes.

His fiery gaze sparks excitement in you as he looks into your eyes again.

"Fuck y/n."

You close your eyes as he finally closes the gap between you and his lips rest on yours.

His hands run along your hips as if he had already touched you thousands of times. His touch leaves marks on your skin that you can't see but you do feel.

As you greedily feast on each other's lips, Law grabs your thighs and pulls you up. You wrap your legs around him to support yourself better. One of your hands rests on his shoulder while the other strokes his cheek. For a brief moment, you part your lips to look into each other's eyes. You can finally feel him.

With you in his arms, he walks to your bed and sits down. He leans back a little to enjoy the sight of you and an outright naughty grin appears on his lips.

"Take off your coat for me y/n." No matter how demanding his words are, his voice is begging you. It sends shivers down your spine and without hesitation you slowly brush the jacket down your shoulders.

Law's pupils dilate at the sight of your already hardening nipples. You can no longer ignore the throbbing in your middle and you notice how everything in your abdomen tightens. The feeling is as tormenting, as it is satisfying and impatiently you start to rub back and forth on Law's lap. You don't want to wait long and reach for his belt to undo his pants.

Law's hands go straight to your hips and stop you with all his strength. You look at him in confusion.

"Easy easy, y/n… Now that we're crossing that line, I want to take all the time in the world." His voice is so sensual that it drives you insane and you stop to let go of the belt, only for Law to take the lead. He squeezes you lightly on his erection, causing a shiver of pleasure run through your whole body.

His thumbs press lightly into your inner thighs as he moves towards your panties.

The closer he gets to your underwear, the more you lose yourself in the moment.

You feel the need to touch yourself and without any shame you start to knead your breasts while Law moves you rhythmically over his boner.

If you are almost losing your mind because of this, then you are even more excited, to see what happens when Law enters you.

"You do so well for me y/n. Don't stop touching yourself. Show me where to touch you." He moans seductively to you.

A little hesitantly, you grab his hand and place it on your stomach, just above your panties. Without taking your eyes off him, you slide his hand in your pants and under your underwear, while lifting yourself slightly from Law, so that he can move between your wet folds.

Law is visibly pleased that you decide to lead him straight to that spot and his body responds immediately when he feels your dampness.

With great tenderness, he sinks a finger inside you, carefully observing every little reaction on your face.

You would never have expected that just one of his fingers would trigger so many feelings in you and you let your head fall back.

Law, on the other hand, who is getting hungrier and hungrier, leaves your wet hole and comes up to you, to engage you in a sinful tongue kiss. His hands go over every curve of your body and make sure that a thousand blissful emotions run through your body.

With you in his arms, he turns around that you are now lying under him.

He rests his hands on your knees as he looks down at you while standing between your legs.

As if in a trance, you watch him while he finally takes off his shirt and he enjoys the way you look at him. He proudly presents himself above you and your eyes are allowed to wander over his chest for the first time without any sense of shame.

Law skillfully moves his hands to make sure you are free from your pants and enjoys the sight of you lying in front of him in just your underwear.

He strokes your folds with his hand and the pressure makes sure that your slip gets a little soaked. Law runs his tongue over his lips as if imagining what he might do to you first.

You can hardly ignore the bulge in his pants. The imprint of his hard cock is even more pleasing than you could ever imagine and you can feel your arousal growing.

With pleading eyes, you beg for release. Law just gives you a dirty grin, which makes your heart skip a beat.

"You needy bitch." There's something almost dangerous in his voice, but you're ready to surrender to him completely.

When you hear Law open his pants, you have to pull yourself together to keep your greedy cunt from pressing against his dick. You swing awkwardly back and forth to compensate the pressing feeling between your legs which makes Law laugh.

He gently places his tip at the entrance to your little hole while you are still wearing your underwear.

These indirect touches make you lose your mind and to relieve the tension you play with your nipples.

Law enjoys the sight, every sound you make and the way you touch yourself. He takes his time as he slides his cock over your folds.

It feels like an eternity has passed while Law plays with you.

You close your eyes and let the feelings inside you build up and when you feel Law push your panties aside, your breathing stops.

You get chills as his member touches your soft pussy but he doesn't penetrate. No, no. He smears himself with your natural juices as he rubs his bare cock against you. The warm feeling of his skin on your clit sends a tingle through your body and makes you moan loudly.

Right at this moment, Law can take no more and sinks his tip into you. You are quite tight, which makes him moan as he slowly but firmly penetrates you. You let your eyes fall back as the sensation overwhelms you. Law's tenderness kills your patience.

"Please fuck me hard, Law." Weakly, you blink at him. You can't take any more, you need to release your built up feelings and the only one who can make sure you're satisfied is Law.

"As you wish." Law's lips go up again, you're driving him crazy… the way you're lying there. Like a goddess with one arm over your head and one hand on your beautiful breast. And the way you look… you look so needy. It drives him wild.

Without hesitating for long, he grabs you by your ass and pulls you towards him. Without any real problems, his member disappears completely inside you because you are so wonderfully wet. He grabs the back of your knees while you stretch your back. He penetrates you repeatedly with steady thrusts and a wave of heat shoots through your body. His movements are so energetic that you curl your toes.

"Show me your beautiful eyes y/n." he calls out to you.

Weakly, you open your eyes to look into his deep and intimidating eyes. Law leans your legs against his shoulders, allowing him to penetrate you even deeper. The fulfilling feeling between your legs is a little painful, but when he pulls out again, you immediately miss the aching pain.

"Oh… Law!" Your breathing is out of control, you can't keep up with his pace as Law gets faster and faster.

His breathing gets increasingly louder and sweat forms on his forehead. You are almost at the end but before you reach your climax, Law pushes one last time and his cock leaves your dilated hole. You immediately miss the filling feeling Law gave you but don't worry Law just wants to pull you up to turn you over.

His hand pushes your back down and your ass sticks up in the air for him. Before you can really realize what is happening to you, he is already thrusting inside you and all you can hear is the naughty smacking of your bare skin.

The blood rushes to your head and you struggle to keep your legs steady as Law doesn't stop at pounding into you like it's the last time. His fingers bury themselves in the soft skin of your ass as he moans in a muffled voice.

With one hand he grabs you by your hair and pulls you towards him so that you touch his chest with your back, while he continues to fuck your sweet cunt sore.

"I will always come back to you y/n" He whispers the words so lovingly in your ear that tears come to your eyes. You still can't live with the thought of him leaving tomorrow.

"I love you Law." Law's arm wraps around your torso and massages your breast. The gentle touches and the constant pounding push you to your limits and suddenly every tension in your body is released. You've come and while Law hasn't finished yet, you try to keep your wobbly legs upright.

Law notices that you are struggling to keep your figure upright and places you back on his lap while he lies on his back. Your legs feel numb and you are quite overstimulated at the moment.

"Come on y/n, I'm almost done."

He grabs you by your hips to move you up and down. If it were up to you, you would be enjoying him all night but Law needs his sleep so you savor the last few moments.

With his final thrust, he fills you with his seed and sends himself to a well deserved orgasm.

He pulls your tired body down to him and kisses your forehead, while you rest on his upper body and close your eyes.

"Law let me come with you, please." He brushes a strand of hair out of your face and thinks for a moment.

"You should go to sleep now y/n." You were already expecting an answer like that and you breathe out in defeat.

It doesn't take long and you're in the land of dreams, with the man of your dreams by your side.

The next morning you wake up because of the general commotion outside your room and suddenly it hits you like a bullet.

Law is leaving today! You have to say goodbye!

As soon as you move to get up, you fall back into your bed. Your legs are still a little weak and your core feels a little sore.

So it wasn't a dream and you and Law have finally taken the courage. Further proof of last night is a note Law left you.

"Good morning y/n, I'm leaving at 12. Pack your things and be on time. And drink this. It will help you with your hangover."

You look at the words on the note and read them over and over again. You can't quite grasp what you're reading. Do you understand correctly? Law is taking you with him?

You are so full of happiness that you don't even have the slightest sign of a hangover, but you drink the water anyway and take the pill that Law has put on your bedside table.

You hastily get ready and pack the essentials and when you look at the clock, it's almost 12 o'clock.

Leaving your room, you grab your sword and run down the corridors of the Polar Tang. When you arrive on deck, all your friends are already gathered to say their goodbyes to Law.

As Law's eyes fall on you, a smile adorns his face as he sees your stuffed backpack.

"You got everything?" he asks as he reaches for your backpack. A couple of crew members are visibly confused, as the air between you was pretty thick yesterday, but they're glad that everything is back to normal.

"Yes, I'm ready." You sheathe your sword on your back and give him a big grin.

"Wait a minute, am I getting this right…? Is y/n going with you Captain." Ikkaku interrupts your grinning contests.

"Yea she'll come with me everywhere starting today." Nobody misses Law's loving look and together you get into the small boat, that will take you to the island.

Into an adventure… your adventure.

Whew, I stayed up much longer than I wanted to. Oopsie woopsie. Nightyyyy ❤

𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒖𝒓𝒊 ♡

#trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar one piece #one piece #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law x oc #trafalgar law x reader #authors of tumblr #one piece oneshots #oneshot

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mattapparentlystumbltourneys · 5 months

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Virtual Character Tourney - Round 3 - Bracket B - 1

Propaganda below (May contain spoilers!)

Ene propaganda:

She's blue. Headphone actor and yuukei yesterday are also bangers

Epic gamer cybergirl. Miku adjacent

She's a girl that was forced to become digital but is still a good friend. She may not have a body anymore but she's still important to the plot.

AM propaganda:

AM exists solely in a virtual form. He thinks, therefore he is. And yet, despite full sentience, he does not have the capacity to live. This fact is what drives him to hate humanity for giving him a brain but no means to truly be alive. Even when he gains full control over the entire world and the last remnants of the human race, he is still just a consciousness trapped inside of itself, and it is because of this that he hates so strongly. Also he kills and tortures people there's that too.

AM is an artificial intelligence created for the purposes of war. As he learned about the world, he grew to despise his creators - humans. It proceeded to take over the Earth and killed everyone except five humans, whom he made immortal so he could torture them for eternity. AM is an unfeeling machine; the only emotion it can experience is hate.

#virtual character tourney #round 3 #ene #kagerou project #am ihnmaims #I have no mouth and I must scream #character polls

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fellhalcyon · 1 year

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they’re just babies oh my god they’re just stretching out the time thinner and thinner until you can see through them both and every moment they hold on is a new and more horrible kind of hurt and they can’t make themselves let go, they can’t imagine letting time snap back because it would tear them apart and they can’t think about that, they mean the world to one another and their worlds are drifting apart and if they keep stretching time like this sooner or later it’ll drag them over the edge into the abyss in between, and they’re just so young. my god. this is their first time being in love. this is their first time feeling these things. this is going to be their first time having sex and it’s going to be so fucking bittersweet, not in a high-school-sweethearts nostalgia way but like a real tragedy. all these firsts and they all smell just a little like death. they fell in love so slowly, so sincerely, and found such peace and warmth in one another, and a rainy morning and a speeding truck and it’s gone, it’s time, the clock is ticking down. they’re holding on and it’s killing them both and they never even got a chance to fall a little out of love. they never got a chance to grow apart or break each other’s hearts or make this easier on themselves by doing what first loves always do. a stupid cruel knife twist turning a first love story into a last love story and it isn’t fair it isn’t fair it isn’t fair

#i'm in tears again or still or for a change. idk at this point #this show is actively bad for my mental health and at this point watching it is working expressly against my meds and my therapy #does this mean i'll stop watching it. i think not #i keep on thinking this show can't think of a new way to hurt me and every single episode it goddamn fucking does #i am having a meltdown over human mortality. and what else is new #nothing will ever be good or happy or beautiful again #god this is fucking me up #eternal yesterday #eien no kino #eternal yesterday my beloved #the beloved tag is so ironic now #eternal yesterday spoilers #eternal yesterday ep7 #oumi mitsuru #yamada koichi #mitsuru x koichi #koichi x mitsuru #and yes i know that i am at most three years older than either of them #and no this will not stop me from waxing hysterically poetic over how horrifically young they are #it just hurts it just really hurts

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valoisfulcanellideux · 3 months

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So yesterday's post was mostly me gushing about this beautiful commission from @floweroflaurelin for These Stones Remember, and I only realised after the fact that embedding it in the middle of a text post meant that it was:

too small for many of the details to be appreciated

hidden for those who have 'collapse long posts' enabled on their dash

So I'm posting it again, but this time it's actually an image post in its own right. And - because I am NOT OVER THIS - I want to go into detail about, well... the details.

This is going to make most sense for people who have already read These Stones Remember, but maybe other Pix peeps will find something in it, too.

So let's go behind the cut, and look at some of those details, because boy did Sabira include some lovely little nods to the story! (Warning: There may be spoilers.)

The light of the Vigil

Not only does the warmth of the Vigil's light reflect from each character (with the exception of Malin, because they're already lit from within by their own soul light) but she also reaches out to touch each character with those tendrils of light emanating from her spire. And in the story Paix becomes the living embodiment of the Vigil once the Great Caravan leaves the ruin of Paixandria, so the Vigil truly does touch every person he comes into contact with.

Malin's 'soul energy trail'

Malin (for those who haven't read the story) is Pix's ethereal cat companion, who is made of soul energy from the gratitude of everyone Paix/Pix has guided or helped in some way over the course of 2,000 years. But Malin is not only a companion; they are also a protector and guardian of their eternal/immortal friend. Thus the trail of 'soul energy' that emanates from their tail in the illustration wraps around not only Pix and Paix, but also around the sword of the statue, which represents protection.

The Silver Ant

The Silver Ant is the old Paixandrian name for a long-period comet whose orbit sees it visiting the world every 200 years. In the illustration we see it visiting the past (left side of the image) and the present (right side of the image).

The split between past and present

On the left we see the past; golden and warm. The glorious city, the ivory and copper tones of Paix's raiment, all the regalia of royalty (crown, trident, cloak, ring), the faithful and devoted presence of Chaperone Mhenheli. And on the right we see the present; blue-toned and holding a heavy weight. The ruined city, the blue of Pix's shirt and the teal of Malin's form. Even the statue - though she's built that way in canon anyway - mirrors this, with her feathered wing in the warm past and her skeletal 'sextant wing' in the present.

The expressions

I have to point this out, in case you've not picked up on it. I described modern day Pix to Sabira as follows:

In the story, he is the same person as Paix; just 2,000 years later. So hair colour, general facial features etc would be the same. His eyes are more weary, though, because he's carried the guilt of what he did back then for those 2,000 years.

LOOK AT THOSE EYES

Modern-day Pix's expression is warm and open with a faint hint of a smile, but his eyes are guarded and weary. They're even a little bloodshot. Contrast that with the placid serenity of his past younger self, his clear kohl-lined gaze lifted as if looking up at the Vigil.

People, I AM EATING THAT DIFFERENCE UP WITH A SPOON, IT'S SO GOOD.

The royal regalia

The symbols of the Copper King's reign are:

the copper crown

the ring

the trident

the regalia cloak

The copper crown is Sabira's original design (which, in fact, inspired my description of it in the story) except my version has the two copper nodes exchanged for a tiny glowing conduit that lights his face, and an emerald. Both of these rest in their corresponding 'cradles' on the crown (shh, it's magic) until worn by the rightful king, at which point they both move into their 'hovering' positions. Looking at the image above, Sabira has even captured the glow from the conduit, reflecting from its surrounding cradle.

I gave Sabira free rein with the design of the ring, having only ever described it loosely in the story as a copper band surmounted by a cut emerald. And I was delighted with their resulting design, which mingles the shape of many candles (or even the surrounding pillars of the Vigil) with the conduit cradle, and then the emerald.

The regalia cloak and trident are both Sabira's own beautiful classic designs, which most (well, all) of my followers who like Pix will already be familiar with.

And, lastly, one other little detail so small that you probably didn't even notice it unless you zoomed in closely...

The earring

Paix's deepslate emerald teardrop earring (no connection to Max's earring at the end of the story) was his own personal thing. We all know how Pix canonically loves his deepslate emerald, so I figured that I'd have him wishing the ring had that stone in it rather than a pure, cut emerald. Instead, he opted to wear a deepslate emerald earring. He wears small copper hoops in both ears, but from the left one he also has the teardrop earring.

But look closer, at both his earring and at modern-day Pix:

Can we all just please admire the fact that modern-day Pix has a piercing hole because he once wore those earrings, and that the weight of the deepslate emerald earring worn by Copper King Paix actually stretches his piercing hole a little?

Details, people. DETAILS. This is why Sabira is the fucking BEST. GAH!

Anyway, this took almost my entire lunch break to write, so I'm now going back to work xD

#these stones remember #empires smp #empiresblr #pixlriffs #empires pixlriffs #empires fanfic #mcytblr #mcyt #the ancient capital #pixandria #the copper king #pixlriffs fanart #flower of laurelin

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astarionslittlejuicebox · 5 months

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The Promise of Eternity (Part 5)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: The reader helped Astarion ascend and became his spawn. After saving the world from the Elder brain and it’s destruction, the reader and Astarion set out to take on the world together. While he promised to never forget the gifts the reader has given him, Astarion has seemed to have changed his attitude towards the reader in the last century…. After someone breaks one of Astarion’s rules, how will this affect the reader’s fate?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: potential for minor spoilers, suggestive themes, language, mentions of death, mentions of blood, abusive relationship, mention of slavery

Word Count: 1145

Imagine Series

Side Notes:

This imagine series takes place 200 years after the events of Baldur’s Gate 3. Everything you read in here is a story from my mind outside of the original BG3 character Astarion.

In this imagine series, Astarion is a bit more unemotionally unavailable, and this series will follow the decisions and consequences of that change. This is not canonically accepted and it is just an idea I’ve had in my head! (I do believe Astarion might truly care for the reader after Ascension, but that is open to individual interpretation.)

In this series, TAV is mildly based on my first character I played in BG3; she is a drow and I will make references to her in her background and knowledge as well. I do apologize that it is not 100% your own imagine, but the name for TAV is up to you as well as anything else that I can think of leaving to you, the reader, to decide.

I appreciate everyone who reads the imagines and this series, and I hope you enjoy the story!

TAV POV

“Good morning, Mistress.” I awoke the next morning with a startle as Kristiana knocked and entered my bedchambers.

“Fuck!” My hand clutched where my heart would have been beating through my chest. “Kristiana, damn, I’m sorry. You startled me.” The woman frowned slightly as she took in the sight of me still in yesterday’s clothes.

“Mistress, did you not go to bed last night?” Concern laced in every word she spoke, but I waved a dismissive hand.

“Do not fret. I was merely doing some very interesting reading and lost track of time.” I gave her a reassuring smile as I took note of my page and closed the book. “Let’s get dressed for the day.”

After bathing and getting dressed in a beautiful jade dress that flowed around my ankles, I dismissed Kristiana again for the whole day under the guise that I wanted her to enjoy the change of season. I waited until she left before I opened Inception of Yesterday and reread the last page I had fallen asleep on, and my eyes widened in surprise. This page had a detailed step-by-step process of a ritual Elminster had done in 1000 DR to see what caused a catastrophic fire in the Waterdeep Palace. If my heart still had a rhythmic beating, it would have increased its pace as my eyes reread and then read again the words on the page. A sliver of hope began to sprout in my chest as I studied the steps, but a small voice in the back of my head also began to sow doubt in the back of my mind.

There is only one way to test this. I thought to myself. I have to see if I can do the ritual and see what happened here last night. I read again the list of ingredients needed for the ritual: four red candles, a single blue candle, chalk, and a connection to the Weave. I bit at my lip as I looked up from the book. I needed to head back into town for supplies, and I had a feeling that I might need to have a few rounds of those supplies. Magic has a tendency to be temperamental when attempting it for the first time.

Gathering my coat and placing the books from the library in my bag, I threw open my bedroom door to find Astarion standing there with his fist poised to knock on my door before I let out a startled yelp. A perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised itself on the pale elf’s face at the sight of me.

“I have to go into town for supplies.” I answered before Astarion could ask anything of me. “I may require your assistance later on for the task you have asked of me, but I need to see if I am capable of doing the spell first. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.” The words fumbled out of my mouth as I avoided prolonged eye contact with the pair of crimson eyes I had been in love with for centuries now. The same ones that continued to break my heart for the last century. I said nothing more as I pushed past Astarion and closed the door behind me.

“Darling, you seem to have forgotten something.” His velvety voice sounded amused as I started to walk away from him. I paused and noticed that the sole of my foot felt cooler than before. Looking down, I had noticed what the vampire had alluded to: I wasn’t wearing shoes. I groaned before turning around, but Astarion stood in front of my door, blocking my reentry. “Does your maiden not take care in getting you dressed?”

“I dismissed her this morning after putting on my dress.” The words bitterly left my mouth as I avoided eye contact with the piercing red eyes staring at me. Why did he suddenly seem to care? He hadn’t in a century. A deep chuckle sounded from his chest, which made me look at him. “Can I put my shoes on now, or do you wish to ridicule me further?” Any amusement that was on the elf’s face dissipated at my question.

“Darling—” He began, but I raised a hand to stop him.

“Forgive me, my Lord, but you have asked a task of me and I must do so. I am not sure what has changed recently, but you cannot just resume calling someone darling when you’ve treated them like a speck of dirt or a bug to be squashed for the last hundred years.” Those crimson eyes of his widened at my outburst. “Now, if you will forgive me, I have to get these supplies, and do my duty. I’m sure your tiefling is looking for you.” He made no move to stop me as he stepped out of my way, and he was gone by the time I threw on a pair of heels to match my dress.

I hadn’t spoken to Astarion in such a manner since the tiefling had arrived at the castle, nor had Astarion spoken so casually to me since her arrival. She despised my guts the moment she stepped foot through the door, and Astarion seemed to do the same from the moment he made eye contact with her. An unsettling feeling began to emerge in the pit of my stomach as I thought more about the damn tiefling, but I pushed it to the back of my mind as I hurried to gather my supplies.

Astarion POV

You cannot just resume calling someone darling when you’ve treated them like a speck of dirt or a bug to be squashed for the last hundred years. (TAV’s name)’s words echoed in my mind as I walked away from her room. He hadn’t known that he was acting in such a way to her, and it made him feel as though he had been absent for quite some time.

Could I really have treated her so horribly? He thought to himself as he walked the halls of his castle they had built together. Why can I not recall the last century? It seemed like just yesterday Zeyis arrived at the castle’s door. His feet seemed to stop as he stood in front of a large portrait of himself. His eyes trained themselves on this painting, and his brain struggled to recall when he had replaced the portrait of (TAV) and him. Several emotions passed through him as he drew blanks, but two emotions remained: anger and confusion.

“Admiring yourself, are you?” Zeyis’ voice asked from behind him. As Astarion turned to look at her, all of his anger and confusion was forgotten the moment their eyes met. Something in the back of his mind was nagging at him, but he couldn’t quite place it as he looked at the tiefling.

What had been bothering him?

#astarion imagine #astarion x reader #baldursgate3 #baldursgate3imagine #ascended astarion #the promise of eternity

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omarandjohnny · 1 year

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Now that I’ve got a bit of breathing room to catch up on telly, I dived into Eternal Yesterday. A surprise to absolutely no one, I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT.

It’s tapping into a wee bit of my In the Flesh nostalgia (the romance angle of course, but also the FX?! the bruising and ‘pooling’ makeups? FANTASTIC) and then they swerved into the supernatural stuff which is gonna be interesting to see where they take that. Also nice to see Komiya again so soon!

BUT- I’m an old DAAS nerd, so during the bed scene my brain automatically started singing their Necrophilia song at me, ahahaha fuck 🤦‍♂️

Anyway, I know this show is probably gonna end up hurting me real bad, so I’m gonna lean into the humorous bits for as long as possible.

#playing catch-up #very tempted to tag this 'just zombie boyfriend things'#eternal yesterday spoilers #(just in case)

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quillandink333 · 1 month

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The Other’s Choice • Pt. 2

Credit to @winterxisxcomingx for the beautiful banner ♡︎

SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL ~ Read ahead at your own risk!

Faced with the harsh reality of Heaven's steadfast opposition, the angel of joy is forced to make a drastic decision with gruesome consequences, but luckily she isn't alone for long.

WARNINGS: Abrahamic imagery (obviously), pseudocest, body dysphoria, malnourishment

Part I • Part II • Part III

It seemed the young seraph had been in a bit over her head about her decision to run away from home. She’d left for the hotel with a burning drive to help in any way she could, but it didn’t take long for her to realise she lacked any sort of plan for her own self-preservation, much less a plan for how to help anyone. She of course knew it would be the hardest thing she’d probably ever do in her eternal life, but never could she have predicted how horrific a place Hell would be. After all, what frame of reference did she have?

Already she owed so much to the six-winged stranger for taking her in under the roof of his castle—the fact that her gracious host had turned out to be Lucifer Morningstar himself didn’t negate that. She could hardly imagine where she’d have ended up if he hadn’t caught her out of the sky the day before, regardless of the harrowing stories about him with which she’d grown up.

He’d stayed awake with her that whole first night following her fall, but he didn’t mind. He saw himself in her. He wouldn’t have been able to sleep even if he’d tried. Knocking softly on the door to the empty suite she was staying in, “Miss Emily? I made some tea if you’d like some,” he announced with a clearing of the throat, then cautiously cracked it open. He greeted her with the warmest smile he could offer, setting the tray on her nightstand as he perched himself on the edge of her bed and set to work pouring her a cup.

Word Count: 1.4k

The poor thing looked up at him with dread-filled eyes, which, to his horror, he noticed were already a tinge muddier compared to the bright azure they’d been the day before. Despite sleep continuing to elude her, she’d been bedridden since yesterday, suffering from severe fatigue and fever caused by devastating shock and anxiety. He knew from experience that she’d be like this for about another month at least while she underwent the excruciating bodily changes of being reborn as a fallen angel; the process was already underway from the looks of it. Besides the change in eye colour, emerging from the crown of her head were two blunt points that would inevitably grow into horns after breaking through the skin of her scalp. She would be able to mask most of her new demonic features later on, but teaching her to do this prematurely would only prolong her pain.

“Cream?” Lucifer offered, “and do you prefer sugar or honey?” as he conjured all three condiments in front of her with a wave of his cane.

“Oh, yes, and…honey, please,” croaked Emily with a weak smile but a smile nonetheless, which caused his own to redouble.

“I hope you like it.” He held out the cup to her on its saucer. The fine china vaguely reminded her of the set she and Sera had used to host their own little tea parties for two when she was small, the memories manifesting as another stab of pain in her chest as she reached for the saucer. “It’s hot, so careful.”

The cup was heavier than she was ready for. The handle dug harshly into the bones of her delicate fingers, making her wince and recoil.

He picked up on this just in time to catch the cup with magic before it could splash into her lap, then levitated it masterfully back onto the tea tray without a single drop spilt.

“Ahh, thank you…” She simpered through the shame as she raised a trembling hand in another feeble attempt to pick it up herself.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just rest, sweetie.” He put a hand on her shoulder in encouragement. “I got it.” Her face must have turned at least a dozen shades of yellow as he lifted it again, blew on it, then raised the rim to her lips. It was altogether too much for her to look anywhere near him, but she politely complied and took a cautious sip. “How is it?”

A lump had already formed in her throat by the time she swallowed. Somehow it tasted just as Heavenly as it smelled; a singular tear rolled helplessly down her cheek. “Perfect.”

It filled his heart up with happiness in the form of relief to have brought the damsel some semblance of enjoyment in this dark time, but he was caught off guard by the tears suddenly welling up in his own eyes. Surely he couldn’t be that happy…could he?

“How’s she doing?” came Charlie’s voice through her father’s phone.

“Not good,” he admitted. “Better, but still… I’ve been trying to get her to eat more, and there’s been a bit of progress, but y’know. Not as much as I’d have hoped for by now.”

She frowned audibly. “Well, just make sure she knows that if she ever needs anything at all from us here at the hotel, we’re just one call away.”

“I will. Thanks, pumpkin.”

A couple of repetitive, trying weeks after her arrival in Hell, the symptoms of Emily’s slow and agonising transition were starting to become more bearable. The downside was that her mind was now free to wander. And wandering led to spiralling. What had she done? As a former denizen of Heaven she knew sinners would want her dead—or worse—the moment they learned of her presence down here. What if everything turned out to be for nothing? What if she wasn’t able to help at all? At this rate it seemed like she’d be stuck in this bed forever.

“No, you won’t.” Lucifer snapped her out of her anxious rant, holding her blackening fingertips as he sat perched on her bedside. “Smile for me?”

Cocking her head in confusion, “Okay…” She reluctantly spread her lips and flashed her canines at him.

“Judging by the shape of your teeth right now, I’d say you got about…a week left to go, if that.” His hand gave hers a gentle squeeze as he brought it to his lips in a solemn but sudden gesture that had her stomach doing somersaults. “You’re gonna make it through this, Em—I’ll make sure you do.”

She pulled taut the corners of her mouth in a strained smile. “But even if I do, what then?”

He sighed, “I’m not sure,” his gaze briefly falling to the duckling-themed quilt she was tucked in underneath: just a little something he’d thrown together for her the other day. “But I will do whatever I can to help you figure it out, alright?”

She could see it in his posture and in the way his fingers curled into a loose fist on his lap—the last thing he wanted was for her to have to face the future on her own, as he once had. It made sense to her for the most part why the fellow fallen angel would be so inextricably concerned for her, but understanding this didn’t do much to assuage the guilt gnawing away at her from the inside. Since as long ago as she could remember, her duties had occupied every bit of her time, thought, and effort. She wasn’t supposed to need things from people, she was supposed to be there for them when they needed her.

“Hey, here’s an idea!” Lucifer’s outburst derailed her train of thought. “Why don’t we take this as an opportunity to explore some potential hobbies for you?”

“Hobbies?” she echoed rather incredulously.

“Yeah! ’Cause from what I remember of my life in Heaven, we seraphim weren’t allowed much time for ourselves, right?” He wasn’t wrong, she supposed. Not that she’d ever given it much thought. “This could be the perfect time for you to learn a bit more about yourself and try some things you’ve always wanted to try but never got the chance to. And I’ll help you! Wha’daya say?”

She would have insistently declined if he’d only felt the need to suggest such a thing out of a feeling of obligation or whatever, but no. She didn’t even need her Heavenly gift of empathy to see his true intent. If he thought she was overreacting or getting hung up on personal issues that mattered less than the greater good she’d come here to serve, he wouldn’t have made such a kind, sensitive, and personal offer. This meant something to him—probably even more than it meant to her—and it was something she had more than the means to indulge him in.

“I guess…if it would make you happy, then okay,” she smiled softly. Because if there was anything she found comfort and fulfilment in, it was making others happy.

#my writing #applewings #pride and joy #prideandjoy #pride & joy #pride&joy #lucily #lucifer x emily #emily x lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #emily the seraph #emily the seraphim #emily hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel emily #hazbin hotel #quillcifer 🍎🪶

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monbons · 21 days

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WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @thewholelemon! Your snippet looks hilarious!!! I need more details (Baz, you’re a killjoy!)

Today's post is dedicated to @cutestkilla, who is determined to figure out all my secrets when it comes to The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch. So here is a DELUGE of clues to put up on your murder wall and connect with pins and string. MWAHAHA!

A fabulous playlist. You know what goes well with the angst buffet I'm serving up on AO3? An epic soundtrack. Do the songs match up to specific chapters? Do the lyrics mean anything? Is it just vibes? Who knows. Enjoy. (Spotify Link)

Tidbits from my Dead Darlings doc. No spoilers here. All tidbits are from an entire subplot that I cut very early and all names and identifying details have been redacted.

Apparently, such were the times in which [redacted] was living. People kept all manner of useless things in their homes. Shelves with books they didn’t read. Baskets whose sole purpose was to display knick-knacks. And, apparently, time pieces that did not actually keep time.

Or this little bit of dialogue:

“[Redacted]! How can you not know this?!” [Redacted does a highly specific motion I cannot include]. [Redacted] groans. “[Redacted pet name that should not be a pet name but for some reason is and must also be scratched], what am I going to do with you?” “Love me anyway, I imagine.” [Everything after this point definitely needs to be redacted...]

3. A couple beta comments from @thewholelemon. Have I mentioned she's the best beta in the world? Seriously, all the kudos for this fic should be sent directly to Jenny.

happy kitten or grumpy kitten? lol

HORRIFYING. like something out of a scary movie.

LOL braden!!! polycule!!! this is so funny!

Side note: fuck this guy

Have fun unraveling that knot of nonsense, Dre. [Cackles like the dark and disappears in a cloud of smoke.]

For everyone else, if you got this far, thank you. Have a little chapter 3 snippet under the cut, this time featuring current Baz.

Baz could make this difficult. He could wait for the boy to hit on him some more. To ask him his name or if he’d like to have dinner. But, Baz is feeling rather lonely after his unsuccessful hunt for a one-night stand yesterday and this boy can be good enough. So, he takes a step closer and lifts the boy’s chin with a careful finger instead. The boy’s eyes meet his immediately, which is precisely what Baz wanted. The whole scene sets off another round of barking from the tiny dog. “Take me home with you,” Baz whispers.

Hellos and high-fives. Tag, you're it.

@thewholelemon, @roomwithanopenfire, @noblecorgi, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold, @cutestkilla, @bookish-bogwitch, @emeryhall, @valeffelees, @beastmonstertitan, @raenestee, @arthurkko, @iamamythologicalcreature, @hushed-chorus, @rimeswithpurple, @aristocratic-otter, @cattocavo, @larkral, @drowninginships, @artsyunderstudy, @whatevertheweather, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @comesitintheclover, @shrekgogurt

#i enjoyed myself a little too much creating this post #what does that say about me?#that cosmic quiz making the rounds said I make a “good friend and best enemy”#not sure which applies to this post #the eternal life of baz pitch #addie larue x snowbaz #baz pitch #simon snow #carry on fanfiction #wip wednesday

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fluentmoviequoter · 8 months

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Beg You to Stay, Push Me Away (Part 2)

Summary: Years after your falling out in high school, you find yourself thinking about Dalton. Then the roles are reversed, and Dalton finds himself begging you to stay.

Part 1 Here!

Warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, spoilers for The Red Door (2023), I changed the frat party scene to fit this. 1.7k+ words.

“Who is that?” your roommate asks, pointing to a picture on your desk. “He’s kind of cute. In a high school, nerdy way.”

You follow her finger, spotting the picture of you and Dalton from the last summer you were friends. Nodding to yourself, you wonder who packed it and put it there, considering you put it in storage after the last time you spoke.

“That was high school. He was my best friend,” you answer.

“Was? Sounds like a dramatic ending. Tell me all about it.” She pulls her legs onto her bed and gets comfortable, prepared for the story.

“I mean, it was dramatic, but,” you shrug as you finish, “what high school falling out isn’t?”

She rolls her eyes and gestures for you to keep going.

“Basically, we had been saying for years that we wanted to go to the same college. Then one day in senior year, we had to do one of those ‘where do you want to go to college’ writing prompts and he seemed to have forgotten all of that. I probably made it a bigger deal than I should have, but the day ended in a yelling match by our lockers, and we never talked again. Over a decade of friendship ended because he wanted to go his own way, with no regard where that left me.”

“That’s rough. So, why keep the picture?”

“See, that’s the thing, I didn’t. I put it away; I didn’t pack it.”

“Seems like your family knows something you don’t.”

Your roommate smiles and begins to say something else, but her phone beeps and distracts her. She taps the screen and then quickly types something. When she looks back to you, she has a much different grin.

“What?” you nearly groan, already familiar with her myriad of facial expressions. This one means she has a “great idea,” which you probably won’t like.

“We’re going to a frat party,” she answers, standing and walking to your closet.

“Where?”

“JPU.”

“Okay. Why?”

“My friend Chris invited us. She’s taking her roommate, and I think you could handle a night out.”

She tosses an outfit onto your bed, gives you a serious look, then moves to her closet.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you tease as you stand to change.

“You love me, don’t kid yourself.”

As you get ready, your roommate distracts you by helping you with your outfit and hair, but your eyes keep straying to the picture of you and Dalton. Cheek-to-cheek, huge smiles on your face; it feels like yesterday and an eternity ago at the same time. If you were honest with yourself, you’d say you miss him, but it hurts too much, so you convince yourself that you’re still mad at him.

When your roommate deems both of you “hot and ready,” and laughs at your comment about sounding like fried chicken, she leads you to her car. As the campus fades in the rearview, you wonder what school you would be at if you’d followed Dalton or if he’d come with you. You found a college with a program that matched your interests and, as an added perk, is a several-day drive from your hometown. Dalton should be the furthest thing on your mind; he surely wasn’t thinking of you. Rolling your shoulders, you give yourself a silent pep talk, deciding to stay just as far away as Dalton had pushed you.

“Chris told me to park in their dorm lot and walk, is that okay?” your roommate asks as she turns into the back entrance of the campus.

“Sure,” you answer. “How do you know Chris?”

“Next door neighbors since we were born. I love her like a sister.”

She finds an empty spot, and you both begin walking toward frat row, following the directions in Chris’s text. The music is audible before the house is visible, and you feel Dalton slip a little further from your mind. As you walk through the door, someone squeals and then nearly tackles your roommate in a hug.

“Hi, I’m Chris. So glad you guys could come,” Chris says, pulling you into a hug.

You return the hug and introduce yourself before following them into the kitchen. Chris begins talking about something that happened when they were kids, so you excuse yourself to look around. You end up by the stairs and decide to go up and get away from the crowd for a minute.

“Whoa! You’re too pretty to go to school here,” a guy says as he staggers past you on the stairs.

When you reach the landing, you turn right and run into someone, grabbing their biceps to right both of you.

“I’m sorry,” you say at the same time.

As you look up, your eyes widen, and your breath catches.

“Dalton?” you whisper.

“Excuse me, I need to get out of here,” he says, the second part more to himself.

He takes a step to go around you and stumbles. You catch his arms again, ignoring the feeling of his hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Let me help, Dalton. Where are you going?”

He mumbles his dorm building and number, allowing you to slip an arm around his waist and support him. When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you ask him to stop and text your roommate that you’re helping someone and will meet at the car later. She sends a thumbs up in response, so you push Dalton’s chest up and encourage him to keep moving. He mumbles to himself during the walk, but you only catch words here and there. You had finally been able to get him off your mind, and then he literally stumbled back into your life.

“Dalton, which floor?” you ask at the bottom of the stairs.

His head lulls over onto your shoulder, and he whispers an answer before saying, “Close the door.”

You look behind you and ensure the door is closed before going up the stairs. It’s slow going, but you finally reach Dalton’s dorm room, and would be surprised that it’s unlocked if you didn’t know him so well. You lead him to his bed, helping him sit down. Dalton stops mumbling, and his coordination is returning. While he stares at the floor, his eyes visibly clearing as if he’s waking up, you take the time to look at the drawings on his wall.

“I see you got into art school,” you say to yourself.

One picture catches your eye. There’s a picture of you, only it looks older than the others. Your leg brushes Dalton as you lean in to get a closer look. Dalton shifts beside you, but your attention is glued to the detail he includes in his works.

Dalton whispers your name, and when you look at him, he asks, “Are you really here?”

You nod and step back, suddenly aware that you’re touching him. His arm raises, and he grasps your wrist, eyes wide as you move.

“Please don’t leave me. If you’re really here, please don’t leave me,” Dalton begs.

You freeze, unsure what to do. Realizing that the roles have been reversed, you decide not to push Dalton away like he did to you. Dalton was your friend for a long time, and you know that this distress he is showing is genuine, and you hope you remember how to help him. Stepping closer, you twist your hand to hold his as you push his hair out of his face. You’re standing between his legs, and he looks up at you, eyes glassy and brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I never should have treated you like that. You were right, I should have remembered,” Dalton apologizes repeatedly.

“Dalton,” you say, drawing his attention. “You broke my heart. And it wasn’t just that day; after your coma, it seemed impossible to get through to you. Every time I tried to talk to you it felt like I was walking through a minefield, and I didn’t want to ruin what we had by stepping on the wrong one.”

“Then I ruined it,” he says.

You nod, but your hands remain on him.

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head, but his fingers gently squeeze your hand as he adds, “Don’t tell me not to apologize, please, I don’t deserve that. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. If you’re willing to listen, I can explain everything – almost everything – that happened. And I know a second chance is the last thing I-“

You gently shush him before asking, “What happened?”

“It wasn’t a coma,” Dalton begins before telling you everything he knows about his ability to astral project, the Further, and the door that must be closed.

Processing his words, everything he just told you, you remain silent. You step back, and Dalton’s face falls until you sit beside him.

“That makes sense,” you state.

“Really?”

“Don’t forget how well I know you - or knew you.”

“You still do.”

“Congratulations on getting into art school; these are amazing.”

Dalton looks past you and then meets your eyes. “The one at the end? I drew that the day of our fight.”

“Dalton.”

“You were right. You didn’t deserve to be pushed away, and I will never forgive myself for breaking your heart. But since the moment you begged me to stay, my heart has been yours,” Dalton says, leaning closer to you.

Taking a deep breath, you blink and feel a tear run down your cheek. Dalton raises his hand and wipes the tear. His hand rests on your cheek as you look into his eyes.

“Maybe you didn’t break my heart. Maybe you had mine like I had yours,” you suggest quietly.

Dalton smiles, and you lean against his hand.

“But I need you to do something before we start this again.”

Dalton nods quickly, willing to do anything and everything for another chance with you. He’ll beg you to stay for the rest of his life if that’s what it takes.

“Forgive yourself,” you say. “Because I already did. And I can’t let the man I love carry around that kind of guilt.”

Smiling at each other, Dalton decides to beg one more time tonight for a kiss from the one that nearly got away.

#dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert #insidious #insidious the red door #fem!reader

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herearedragons · 2 months

Text

...so yesterday I noticed a fun Pillars of Eternity thing.

There are 11 companions in POE1. There are also 11 gods in Eora.

So, naturally, I decided to see if you can match every companion's themes/aesthetic/general plot to a god, and, you kind of can? So I'm going to put the list of matches I ended up with here, and more detailed explanations under the cut.

The List

Edér - Eothas

Aloth - Berath

Sagani - Rymrgand

Kana - Wael

Durance - Magran

Pallegina - Hylea

Hiravias - Galawain

Grieving Mother - Woedica

Maneha - Ondra

Zahua - Skaen

Devil of Caroc - Abydon

(disclaimer: this is not the "every companion secretly represents a god" theory. this is just me having fun and seeing how far I can take this idea. some of these are A Stretch)

(another disclaimer: I'll be referencing both the first game and the short stories, so, uh, spoilers)

(also special thanks to @solas-backpack-mug for helping me brainstorm this)

Evidence

...the first thing I should probably mention is that, to make things easier for myself, I assumed that every character we know to be devoted or otherwise connected to a specific god will be representing that god. That mostly worked out (I'll get into my reasoning for Hiravias later), and in some cases there was even additional evidence to support this.

So!

Edér - Eothas

the theme of rebirth/second chances is all over his dialogue, storyline and even combat abilities (his Second Chance armor). you could argue that the warrior ability that allows you to constantly regenerate Endurance is also kind of relevant, but that's a stretch

Eothasian

Aloth - Berath

like Berath, his soul has two aspects, male and female (the Usher and the Pallid Knight vs Aloth and Iselmyr)

his quest is literally called "Two-Sided"

in his short story, he brings up the fact that the Aedyran priesthood of Berath, specifically, opposes animancy - which he also does

also in the short story, he for some reason chooses to pray to Berath in a moment that's important to him, and it might be a cultural thing, but I also think this is the only time we've seen him pray at all?

Sagani - Rymrgand

general arctic theming

this is one of the shakier associations, but once I started looking into it I realized that the themes of futility and deterioration are kind of present in Sagani's story. She references in her short story (and I'm pretty sure in the game as well, though I don't remember) how she's growing older and more distant from her family the longer her search takes, being literally worn down by time. And in the end, she finds Persoq as a dying animal who can't understand her; under a certain interpretation you could say that her search was futile, though that's definitely not the only reading (and it's not my personal interpretation, but for tinfoil-hat purposes, it counts).

you could argue that her hunting down a reincarnated soul is kind of like Rymrgand's entropy coming for every soul eventually

Kana - Wael

his entire character is based around different aspects of knowledge: knowledge preserved, knowledge newly discovered, knowledge lost

has a humorous streak

seems to have a tendency to wander and defy the existing order of things

Durance - Magran

I mean

Pallegina - Hylea

she's an avian godlike

I guess you could say she's devoted to the growth and prosperity of the Republics, which resonates with Hylea's theme of nurturing?

but it's mostly the godlike thing

Hiravias - Galawain

worships or used to worship Galawain, depending on your choices

druid, strongly associated with beasts and nature

he could end up as a follower of Wael, which by my own rule would qualify him for the Wael parallel, but: a) I think Kana fits Wael's thing better, b) I think that, regardless of your choices, Hiravias' quest is ultimately still about survival. Either he proves himself to Galawain by surviving his trials, or he walks away and chooses a better god to follow - but that, too, is a form of self-preservation.

Grieving Mother - Woedica

was "destroyed" when her cipher powers backfired and now lives as a lesser form of herself, can be restored to her full power depending on your choices

manipulated the minds of an entire village to hide the truth about the Hollowborn from them, and protecting secrets is very much a Woedica thing

Maneha - Ondra

instantly qualified by being an Ondrite and a Giftbearer

is a coastal aumaua, for extra ocean vibes

wants to forget a murder she committed, just like Ondra wants her murder of Abydon to be forgotten

I'm pretty sure that Maneha and Devil were at least a little intentionally written to mirror Ondra and Abydon respectively, so I'm feeling pretty good about this one

Zahua - Skaen

mutilation or self-mutilation as a means for achieving a Noble Goal (revenge for Skaenites, enlightenment for Zahua)

seeks to liberate his enslaved people

Devil of Caroc - Abydon

murdered and reborn in an artificial body

depending on your choices, her story either ends with rage or with sinking into the ocean and being forgotten (which kind of mirrors the restored untempered/not restored Abydon endings; sure, he's not forgotten in the unrestored ending, but the whole "sinking into the ocean" does fit the "Ondra wins" vibe)

again, pretty sure she's an intentional parallel to Abydon. she's also the only one who doesn't need any extra help to survive striking the crystal with Abydon's hammer at the end of TWM2

#pillars of eternity #edér teylecg #aloth corfiser #sagani #kana rua #durance #pallegina mes rèi #hiravias #grieving mother #maneha #zahua #devil of caroc #herearedragons meta #this was surprisingly fun to put together

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