cries a river of never ending tears

pitviperofdoom  asked:

Hey so I've loved your Retold Fairytales for some time but I just binged your entire Gods and Monsters and I??? love Styx. A lot. And I'm curious about Hephaestus and Styx growing up as best friends in the Underworld. If you could work your magic when you have the time, I'd love to see a story about them!

Styx does not have a home in the underworld, not really. She has a room in Hades’s palace, of course, and a nook in Hecate’s house.  Charon has a cottage by her river, a humble thing for a being of such great power, and she’s shoved her way onto his narrow bed and curled into the warmth of his chest more than once. She darts through the horrors of Tartarus, and plays in the Elysium Fields.

All of the underworld is open to her, and she’s lived here the entirety of her existence. But she’s yet to find a piece of it that feels as if it belongs to her, that doesn’t feel borrowed.


Hecate brings home a baby with no legs beneath the knee and wide, curious eyes.

Styx adores him instantly.

Hecate is a busy woman – her duties in the underworld keep her constantly moving, and she spends much of her time shrouded in her secrets. She is the goddess of magic, and there are things that only she can do, things that other people can’t even know about. She is not a person with much time to spare, and babies take a lot of time.

Hades watches him often, directing the traffic of souls and overseeing construction with the child held to his chest. Charon fashions a sling, and the baby sleeps against his back while Charon ferries souls across her river.

Time passes. The baby is not like her.

The baby grows.


Hephaestus is a child, and he lives in a dangerous place. His aunt raises him, and she is a busy woman who does important things, and it seems to him like nothing in their home is safe to touch, that it is all cursed or corrosive or even, at time, sentient.

The palace is not much better. Hades always welcomes him, has a warm smile for him, but is too busy to linger. He walks on wobbly legs of glass that Aunt Hecate fashioned for him, and they allow him to walk, but they pain him too. He cannot run or jump, he cannot explore the edges of the underworld like he so desperately wants to because his legs are delicate, clumsy things. They are glass, and they shatter too easily.

“Don’t be sad,” a voice says in his ear, and he’s grinning before he even turns around. Lady Styx is there, smiling at him. She looks to be his age, although she is much older, and she has black skin and grey hair and eyes. Her skin is the color of her river’s water, and her hair and eyes the color of the foam when it rushes too fast. For as long as he can remember, she has always had kindness to spare.

“I’m not sad,” he says stubbornly. “Aren’t you busy?” She is a goddess, one as powerful and important as his aunt or Hades. He wants to grow up to be just like her.

She shrugs, “My river knows what to do. Do you want to go on an adventure?”

“Yes,” he says instantly. The only time he’s allowed to explore is when Styx is with him. If his glass legs break, she can carry him, and if anything tries to attack or hurt them, she can stop it.

She grabs his hand, smiling. It’s cold. She’s always cold, the same icy temperature as her river. “There are volcanos in Tartarus. Have I taken you there before?”

He shakes his head, and in the next instant they’re gone.


Styx and Hephaestus manage to get in all manner of trouble, including, but not limited to: accidentally giving Cerberus two extra heads, devising and implementing a manner of torture for Tantalus that is so brilliant Hades can’t even get mad at them for it, and figuring out it is possible to surf of Styx’s rough waters with glass legs, but only if you’re very, very stupid and have the goddess in question by your side and laughing so hard she forgets that her primary job here is to prevent you from dying.

When he’d found them, Hades had given them the worst admonishment he knew how to give: a disappointed frown. Hecate had laughed and told them to be careful of his legs.

Hephaestus’s childhood had its bright spots. Almost all of those bright spots included Styx.


Hephaestus looks older than her now, a young man when she is, as always, a child. He’s gotten quieter as he ages, his dark eyes permanently thoughtful.

“You shouldn’t come here without me,” she scolds, sitting down beside him. He doesn’t respond, swinging his hammer down on glowing metal with a boom loud enough that the volcano shakes with it. “You know Hecate doesn’t like you going into Tartarus alone.”

“You were busy,” he says, not accusatory, just a statement of fact. “Here, cool this for me.”

She sighs, but cool water rushes from her hands and onto the superheated metal. It hisses and steams, but when the air clears Hephaestus holds it up and appears to be satisfied. “Must it be in a volcano? We can make you a forge in safer part of the underworld.”

“Volcanos are useful,” he says, the same answer he always gives her. “I have more of these to do if you want to stick around.”

Helping him build whatever he’s currently working on is pretty boring. But he’s her friend, and it must be important if he’s risking his life by going into Tartarus on his glass legs to do it. “Sure,” she sighs slumping down to sit crosslegged next to him. He pats her on the head, which she’s all prepared to be insulted by - she’s a kid, but she’s not a kid – when she sees his lips curled up around the corners of his mouth. He’s making fun of her on purpose, which is still annoying, but is less hurtful than him treating her like a kid just because he looks older.


The first set of legs that Hephaestus makes for himself are made of iron. They’re not as pretty as he’d like them to be, but that’s all right. He can run in these legs, jump in them, fight in them. He is no longer a being made of glass, no longer someone who can be easily broken.

Styx is the first person he shows them to. He leaps and somersaults in them, something he could never do before. She’s delighted at first, smiling and clapping, but by the time he finishes, arms out-thrown and beaming, she’s wilted. She sits hunched and tries to keep her smile in place, but it’s trembling.  

“What’s wrong?” he asks, kneeling in front of her. “I thought you would be happy for me.”

“I am!” she hiccups, and now she’s crying, big fat tears that he wants to wipe away but can’t. She cries the water of her river. If he touches them, he’ll burn. “I am happy!’

He risks it, tugging the end of his sleeve down to quickly wipe her left cheek, then ripping it and throwing the cloth away as it burns. “You don’t look happy.”

“You’re going to leave,” she says, and he goes cold. “You have legs, and now you’re going to leave, and I’m not. I am the Goddess of the River Styx, I must stay with my river. But you’re going to leave.”

His heart breaks seeing Styx cry. He loves Hecate, loves Charon, loves Hades. But if there is one person in this realm he can truly call family, it is her. They share no blood, but she’s the only sister he’s ever known. “I’ll visit! You can visit me too. I wasn’t born here, Styx. Hecate isn’t my mom. I was born on Olympus, and I can’t hide in the underworld from Hera forever. I don’t want to either.”

“I know!” she says, her breath coming in stuttering gasps as she tries and fails to stop crying. “You’re so smart, and all the things you make are amazing. You need to go out there, so other gods can see you, so that people can see you. I just – I’m going to miss you.”

He’s a god – a little river water won’t kill him. He pulls Styx into his arms, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as her tears burn through his skin. She resists for a moment, then goes slack, throwing her arms around his neck. He says, “I’m going to miss you too.”


Hephaestus does not want to cause an uproar. He’s had fantasies of storming Mount Olympus, of confronting Hera, of doing any number of foolish, stupid things. But he is not a foolish, stupid man.

Hecate has picked out a volcano for him already, one she tells fits all his requirements and is not in the domain of any other god, even the lesser ones. He will go slow. He will build, and improve the lives of the mortals. Temples will be erected in his honor, tributes placed at his feet, his name on all their lips. He’ll build his power the hard way, until they can ignore him no longer, until Hera and Zeus have no choice but to offer him a place at their table on Olympus.

But not yet.

For now, he builds something else, something even more important.


“Can I open my eyes yet?” Styx asks, pouting.

Hephaestus’s hands are on her shoulders, pushing her forward. “No.”

She scowls. She can tell they’re by her river, in a bend where no one travels through, but that’s it. Her knowledge of the geography of the underworld is always in relation to her river. “What about now?”

“Yes,” he says.

She wasn’t expecting it, so it takes her a moment to blink her eyes open. “Did you make this?”

“Hecate helped,” he admits, “I wasn’t sure what to do for things like curtains and windchimes. Do you like it?”

It’s a house. A small one, not much bigger than Charon’s. It’s made of obsidian, but not several pieces put together. It looks like the whole things was carved out of one massive piece of obsidian. The walls are black and smooth and shining. There’s a large, round bed in the center that’s a pale blue, the chairs in a deep purple, and her curtains are a soft yellow. The house is black, but Hephaestus has filled it with color, given her a rainbow tucked in every space. Copper pots hang in the kitchen, and there are signs of his forging everywhere – in the cabinets, the door knobs in the shape of flowers, the singular windchime hanging in her open window, even though there is no wind here.

“Do you like it?” he repeats. “I know you tend to just – end up wherever, but I thought you should have a place that was just yours. If you want something different I can change it–”

“No.” She swallows and touches her wall, the silver design in her walls that he must have inlaid himself. “It – it’s perfect.” Quieter then, “You gave me a home.”

No place in the whole of the underworld has ever felt like it belonged to her. This one does. It doesn’t feel borrowed.

Hephaestus ruffles her hair, “It seems only fair, since you did the same for me. This realm wouldn’t have been my home without you.”

They’re smiling at each other, and the tension she’d been carrying ever since she realized Hephaestus would be leaving drains out of her.

He’s older now, almost an adult, and he’s leaving the underworld. But he’s not leaving her.

“You’re my best friend,” she tells him, in case he’s forgotten.

“Good,” he tells her, “because you’re my best friend too.”

gods and monsters series, part xxiii

read more of the gods and monsters series here

A Ruptured Chill - Jughead x Reader Blossom - Requested


@idle-lanes @sgarrett49 @murderyoursoul @moonlight53

Anonymous said: Could you please write a jughead x reader where the reader is dating jughead and is a blossom and she goes into the ice with cheryl

Hey anon, thanks for the request. Hope you like it. It was really fun to write and really flowed out of me (which I needed so thanks).

Music while Writing - Wreckless Eric “Whole Wide World" and Dexy’s Midnight Runners “Come on Eileen”.

She was acting odd. Out of place for her. Cheryl had always put on a brave face in front of tragedy. When your grandfather had died, when Jason had lost your dog at 9, and especially in the face of your parents arguments. Her mind was always ahead of her feelings. Erasing them from her expressions. She was a master at it.

You on the other hand, were a year younger and didn’t relish in the idea of winning over your parents. Not like your golden boy brother or your sister who was always trying to impress them. It was easier to hide in the shadows.

The last thing you wanted was the attention that both Jason and Cheryl seemed to thrive on. You had one clear goal in mind - the second you were old enough - get out of Riverdale.

Keep reading


super-the-natural said:Hi I just want to start off with you’re really hot, I’m so jealous of you😂 and I love your imagines😍😍 could you do a PaulxReader based on Clock Don’t Stop by Carrie Underwood?? thank you so much💕💕

A/N: Oh thanks! haha 😜 Don’t be jealous, love. I look bad half of the time. 😂 I’m very happy that you like my imagines! And I would be honoured to write this imagine for you. You’re very welcome! I’m really sorry that I hadn’t gotten around to your request until now. I’ve been busy and have gotten so many requests. So I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings at all! I hope that you enjoy this imagine, sweetie! I hope that it’s what you were looking for.

Not my gif. Gif credit goes to the amazing creators!

[Clock Don’t Stop.]

word count: 1,379.

Warning’s: swearing, angry Paul Lahote, possessive Paul Lahote, Slapping Paul Lahote, and I suppose that’s it, I guess.

Your eyes widened substantially at the shaking figure before you. Tears began to wobble upon your waterline at the words he had spoken, but you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t waste your tears on him any more. “That’s how you feel about me?” a smile breaks out on your face but it never hits your eyes. It only makes you look that much more broken.
“You’re clingy and you can’t leave me five minutes of my own time, (Y/N)!” Paul’s voice roars, rumbling the small home he lives in. His father was out at the local bar and the two of you were left in it on your lonesomes.
“Clingy?” you suddenly breathe. “Clingy?” you scream, the tears bursts down your cheeks. “Have you met yourself, Paul Lahote?!” you roar it out, the glass windows almost breaking from the high pitched-ness of it.
“Spare the water works, (Y/N). We all know they’re for effect.” he snorts, towering over you.

You hadn’t planned for it to happen. It just did.

The impact of your hand was hard, leaving a vivid red hand print on his cheek. His head snapped to the side. The snapping sound echoing in the small home as you both froze instantly. “Don’t you ever speak like that to me ever again, Paul.” you spit it out, saliva spitting violently at Paul. “You dominate my every decision, plead for me to see you all of the time because you miss me. If you can’t admit your own faults then I’m not going to stand here and listen to your cruddy words. I’m sick of fighting with you. I’m done. We’re done.” you scream at him, snatching your jacket and purse from the couch and jogging out of the front door.

Paul never moved a muscle from that spot when you looked through the wind shield of your truck. His head was still whipped to the side but you could notice he was trembling, fighting with the malicious beast within him. You didn’t stick around to see the show.


You slammed your front door shut, ignoring your mothers inquiries as you scuttled up the stairs and slammed your bedroom door behind you. The tears kept coming, running down your face in grey rivers. You hated fighting with Paul everyday, the fighting was beginning to kill you inside. Now you didn’t have to fight with him, because you had ended things faster than you should have and guilt kept eating away at your gut like maggots ate away at rotting flesh. You tremble in a ball, squeezing your knees close to your chest to keep yourself from breaking and falling apart. You had never cried so hard in your life.


Your phone began to buzz in your pocket, startling you. “Hello?” you sniffle. The line is silent on the other end, the familiar deep breathing on the other end. “Paul just leave me alone. I don’t want to hear what you have to say. You said all you needed to, so leave it at that.” your voice is weak, trembling from the tears that rush down your cheeks.
“I don’t want to fight.” he breathes out huskily to you, begging.
“We’ll sort it out tomorrow, but right now I don’t want to talk to you.” you admit honestly.
“How do you know tomorrow will come, (Y/N)?” Paul’s shaky reply almost startles you. You hadn’t thought of it like that.
“Don’t do that to yourse-,”
“God dammit, (Y/N)! I won’t kill myself!” he yells over the phone, paralysing me. “I just want it sorted it out now because I don’t want to go to bed with you and I fighting on my fucking mind!” he finishes off.

Relief fled over me when I heard him tell me he wasn’t going to hurt himself. Yet I’m incredibly silent, stuck to my bedroom door. “If you’re not going to talk then I will.” his voice is poison and my thumb presses the red button on my phone, ending the phone call. My phone clatters to the floor loudly, shattering the screen of it.

Why couldn’t he just control himself?’ you thought to yourself in bewilderment. ’Why can’t he do it for himself instead of insisting on doing it for me?’ those answers could never be answered without Paul.


The ticking of the clock was haunting you as every hour passed by. A ball began forming within your throat, making it hard to breathe deeply. Time wasn’t stopping even if Paul wasn’t there. It still kept ticking along, leaving you behind in your bedroom, curled in a vulnerable ball. Crying seemed impossible because you assumed you were all cried out.

You felt trapped without your imprint doing everything in his power to comfort you, to make you happy. But he made you so angry at the same time. Infuriated even. All of this thinking about Paul caused you to wear a bitter thin line where your plump pink lips used to be. Your eyes began to water just as your bedroom door opened and a shadow poured over you in it’s comforting darkness. “I’m not sure what’s happened. She won’t talk to me, but maybe you can.” your mother says.
“Thanks.” that voice causes you to bury your face into the mountain of pillows on your bed and the tears began to well up again, causing you to sob into them.

The door shuts and silence looms within the air serenely, causing your stomach to churn. “Go away.” you murmur into the pillows and Paul hears but cannot make out what you’re saying.
“(Y/N), look at me.” Paul’s voice could have made your heart break, but you don’t move so his large russet hands lightly push your back until it hits the mattress softly. “There. Now look into my eyes.”
“You have to.”
“Why should I do anything for you? It’s never good enough for you.” you retort sharply.
“Stop adding to the feud because you know that I can’t control my temper and I’m tired of saying things in the heat of the moment.” he admits boldly for him. “Now take a look into my eyes and maybe you’ll be surprised.”

Your eyes look into his dark chocolate orbs and you’re surprised to see them pink and puffy like your own. “You’ve been crying…” you breathe.
“Yeah, and that isn’t your fault.” he bows his head. “I’m tired of getting so jealous of other boys talking to you, of you focusing your time on everyone else. I can’t have you all to myself and I know that, but I can’t help myself. Your touch soothes me, your presence eases everything for me also. You’ve made my transition so much more better than it had be in the beginning. But controlling my anger is difficult but I do my best.” he sighs, his large hand enveloping yours.
“Don’t control it for me, do it for yourself.” you suddenly say and he looks up at you with furrowed brows. “Being calm isn’t for me, Paul. You have to be calm for yourself, your secret, for the tribe. You have to do that for you, because you’re the one that has to deal with it at the end of the day. Not me.” you tell him thoughtfully.
“You’re right.” he looks down at you, smiling a little. He gave you that look he always does when he knows that you’re the answer to his problem. He smiles at you like that when he’s sorry.

Maybe it was the rush and strength of his fierce warm lips that melted you into your bed and pulled him upon you. His scent wafted up your slightly stuffed nose as his lips worked in perfect sync with yours. His hands caressed your hips tenderly, guiding them closer to his. IT was a heated rush of ecstasy as you whimpered beneath him, shaking from the intensity of it all. “I love you, (Y/N). Take my dumb ass back, please?” he begged, trailing his lips smoothly down your neck, pressing especially upon your sweet spot, making you gasp.
“I love you too Paul, and yes. Just no more fighting so much okay?” you begged beneath him.
“Okay.” he smiles tenderly on that spot.

Please keep requesting imagines! If you like it, please follow for more.

Persona 5 Review! (Spoiler Free)

Ok, so I’ve played it twice, I’ve platinumed it, I’ve been through every f*cking rage quit, I died many times right before getting to the safe room, I’ve never seen it coming like a thousand times, and now, I can safely say, I love this game so much.

No joke. Persona 5 was everything I expected and more, much more. It surpassed my expectations in every aspect. And yes, this is gonna be anything but praise, and you can already guess which is going to be my final verdict on this, but still, I have to talk about this game.

So, like in its two predecessors, you play as a nameless protagonist, whom we’ll call Akira Kurusu (‘cause that’s his name in the manga and I like it very much) and who’s been falsely accused and now is under probation in Tokyo, the big city. Here, he’ll be taken under custody by Sojiro Sakura, the owner of the café Leblanc, and he’ll attend to this school with a very particular sense of fashion when it comes to its uniforms, Shujin Academy. Soon enough, Akira will discover that a strange app has been installed into his cellphone without his consent, and despite the many times he tried to delete it, it won’t go away.

From here on out, you can guess what will happen if you’ve played another Persona game before: he’ll discover he can summon creatures from hell itself and that there’s a world inside of the world where shadows live, he’ll come across other people who can summon things as well, and they’ll fight demons and stuff, and at the end, they’ll save the world with the power of friendship because if not, this is definitely not a jrpg. Pretty much the same concept from previous games.

But at the same time is completely different, new and fresh.

Persona 5 revolves around the themes of ’freedom’, and ’being slaved by society’. The topic of corrupt and rotten adults is also brought up many times. And it does it perfectly. From the beginning, you get absorbed by the prejudice they throw upon Akira for being a ‘delinquent’ under probation. You can feel how they speak behind his back, how they look away while he walks past them. You put yourself in his shoes, and you sympathize with his bad luck. That’s a very special moment for the player and the protagonist, for it hadn’t happened in previous Personas: this is the very first Persona game in which the main character has the heaviest story pre-game and you feel it. And with ‘heavy’ I mean, seen, clear, present, because yes, the P3 Protagonist had a very sad past, but the game barely touched upon the death of his/her parents, and regarding Yu Narukami… well… yeah, he comes from the city and… yeah, that’s it.

Akira is a character already stablished, the responses you can choose for him have a tendency to seem rebellious, the way he smirks, taunts his enemies and acts proudly of himself… He is, in every way, a character on his own, and not a chance a representation of what the player want him to be. And that’s GREAT!

And not just him. The friends you come across in this path – The Phantom Thieves – may all seem a copycat of previous characters from previous games, but there’s always something that make them unique and original. The way Ryuji speaks and stands against everyone; Ann’s ideals of becoming an inspiration and her passionate love and care for her friend Shiho; Makoto’s concern about her sister and her own future and the pigeon-hole that chained her down for so many years; Futaba’s case of agoraphobia, with her tearful fears and her own demons; Yusuke’s hidden past shaped in a painting and his eccentric ideas; Haru’s heavy burden in following her father’s footsteps while at the same time realizing what she wants for herself; Akechi’s intrusive appearances, with a sad motive and a real self-centered issue; Morgana’s pursuit for his own past, and his devotion for the team. Yes, we already had that best friend who follows women in swimsuits (and actually buys a swimsuit for them cof cof Yosuke I’m looking at you cof cof), we already had the genius detective, the rich heiress to a big enterprise, the talking animal (stop it, Teddie, this is un-bear-able), the popular girl… but they all bring something new to the table. They’re all relatable at some point, and it’s hard to choose a favorite, for they all make you want to be part of that group of friends.

The story is so well thought that it makes me want to cry tears of joy. The main concept is to change the hearts of corrupt people: a sexual assaulter, an artist who plagiarizes his pupil’s work, a mafia leader… you get the idea. The Phantom Thieves risk their lives by entering Palaces, these people’s manifestation of their distorted desires, and they steal their ‘treasure’ – in other words, they take away from the villain’s cognition that specific thing that made them corrupt in the first place. It can be a memento from their childhoods, it can be a very naïve object that, with time, created in them this sinful desire to abuse of others with their power. F*ck these guys, really.

And yeah, one thing leads to another… and… there’s like a wheel thing, things that happened at the beginning have repercussion later down the line… and… if I speak a little more I’ll be banned by Atlus 'cause spoilers. But, let me just say that if you believe that Persona 4’s story was clever and surprising, trust me, your jaw will fall to the floor many, maaaaany times in Persona 5. Like, really. You’ll envy these kids’ minds. You’ll never see it co- sorry, it just never gets old.

The gameplay remains true to Persona roots, and brings back the Shadow Negotiation, a mechanic that hadn’t been present since the Persona 2 duology. Before, you gained Personas at the end of the battle thanks to cards shufflin’ (the Shuffle Time Oh My God), but now, it’s up to you to convince the shadows you fight against to join your cause. The Velvet Room is also back, with a very grave-voiced Igor (and Oh, I wanna comment on this, but I can’t), and with two new assistants: Caroline and Justine, the twin wardens. You’ll be able to fuse Personas, just like in old times, but in this occasion you’ll have to decapitate the Personas you want to fuse to create a new one. Nice! There’s also an electric chair, a cell for lockdown and a hanging spot! Cute! All of these things bring new mechanics to the Velvet Room, that you’ll be taking advantage of. There are over 200 Personas to create, and there are some new ones, but don’t worry, we’ll be seeing the same old faces again (hee, hoo, Jack Frost is there too!).

As always, the Social Lin- pardon me, the ’confidants’ (f*ck it, they’re still Social Links, don’t bother me), will enchant the player and take your heart, no pun intended. Aside from fighting darkness itself inside the Palaces (which you should finish as fast as possible), you’ll be spending time with your party members and people from school and from around the city. It’s always good to see Akira interacting with his peers, but it was refreshing for me to see him with adults: in a society in which adults are all rotten and only think about themselves, he comes across some grown-ups that are worthy, that are still clean, and this goes to show that not all of the adults are corrupt, and not all of the teenagers are stupid and immature.

Akira grows close to the people around him, and you can sense his affection and theirs. There’s a big change as to how they regard our favorite delinquent: they slowly realize that he’s not a troublemaker as they made them believe, that he’s actually a noble fighter, and that he’s also worth fighting for. All their love, all their support, is seen and felt during the course of the game, and even more during the final hours. You’ll be grateful to have been close to all these people (I fully recommend to do a playthrough with all the Social Links maximized, it’ll give you, apart from a sense of satisfaction, the whole picture of what I’m talking about).

Social Links are now useful to the actual gameplay. Not only the party members learn new skills as in Persona 4 and passive skills as in Persona 3, but also the confidants outside of the party will give you perks and bonuses during the fights. For example, Mishima’s Social Link (Arcana Moon) will give you extra experience points for those playable characters that are on the reserves (you know, the ones you don’t like and don’t use), so now all of your characters level up at the same time, not just the four you choose. And it’s helpful as hell, believe me. Another Social Link, Hifumi Togo’s (Arcana Star), lets you exchange the characters in battle for those who are on the reserves as well, so in a middle of a boss, if a character is low on hp or sp, you can change them for one who is fresh and ready to fight. And so on. That’s why it is advisable to maximize as many Social Links as you can (but don’t forget to boost your social stats from time to time!).

So, the story is great, the gameplay is addictive… and the music is downright REBELLIOUS. It’s so good that it makes you wanna put on a mask and go out to reform society in a costume. There are songs that you’ll never see – alright, I’ll stop. It’s just… I love 'Last Surprise’ so much. And 'Rivers in the Desert’. And 'With the Stars and Us’, especially the piano version, my goodness, is that a tear in my eye…?

At the end of the game, I found myself whispering how good it was. It was beautiful, and I cried, although it’s not a sad story. I cried because of how good, how joyful it was, because of how many laughs it gave me; I cried because it conveyed many feelings, it made me feel rage, sadness, pity, happiness, rage again, betrayal, surprise… I was amazed by how clever the story went, by how well implemented each mechanic was. I really don’t know how Atlus can top this game, but I’m sure they will, and Persona 5 won’t be the 'last surprise’, I hope.

I really am glad that this game exists. I waited for it not so much, because I entered the Persona world (and I’ve been sucked into it forever now) last year, but still, a few months of delay felt like an eternity, and by the end of March, I was yearning for this to finally be released.

I do have one complaint. Tiny. I really wished there were more easter eggs and references to past Persona games. I know you can see Rise’s poster, and also Kanami’s (which makes, unfortunately, Persona 4 Dancing All Night canon), and that they mention the other 'ace detective’, referring to Naoto Shirogane. I’ve read but not found that they also mention another detective with red sunglasses, making an allusion to Katsuya Suou, older brother of Tatsuya from Persona 2. But still, I was waiting for that trip to Inaba, or to Tatsumi Port Island, or to come across at least Yu Narukami. Something… more. But I guess we’ll see Akira interacting with previous wild card wielders in the not so far away future (yeah, you guessed it, most probably Persona 5 Arena is being developed right now). I just wished they put something more obvious into the game.

But that’s it. I want Atlus to keep on creating games, to keep on surprising me. If you’re a fan of the series, this game will blow your mind, because it brings everything from past games and make it better. If you’re new to the series, this game will blow your mind as well, but you’ll have a difficult time adjusting to the previous ones, if you ever wish to play them (I recommend it though, even Persona 2 Innocent Sin). All in all, it’s an excellent, EXCELLENT, jrpg, and everything we’ve been waiting for.

Persona 5 doesn’t disappoint.

I just cried a river of tears cause someone said Taylor is trying to meet as many of us as possible because it’s the last time. I CAN’T THINK ABOUT THAT. How am I going to survive without her and her music? She makes my days so much better. She is my escape. NO NO NO I don’t want it to end. EVER. I mean she deserves a family and I’ll be happy if she’s happy but HOW AM I GOING TO SURVIVE? And what if I never meet my 🍯 OH MY GOD DON’T I AM HURT.

9/? gazette quotes

“Some time ago, regarding a letter from a fan of mine who passed away, her mother managed to send it to me. At the end of last year, after the tour had finished, I took out the letter and started to read it…and so tears started to flow from my eyes. That girl said ‘Gazette helped me a lot’, but in the end I never really got around to helping her, and so I regret it. Since then, that is the only time I have cried so much." -Kai 

Gray sits beside Natsu’s bed, as the dragon slayer recovers from the hard fought fight between Fairies, Acnologia and Zeref.

The aftermath of the battle is very evident. Some of them are probably not the same person after this, well most of them and he’s one of them.

“Juvia,” he sighs and closed his eyes and breathed deeply to stop the tears from flowing, “she’s never coming back,” he thought in his head.

He stood up, fists clenched, eyes hot and he didn’t even notice the tears coming and he walked out of the infirmary.

“Gray,” Lucy softly called out as she was worried about her friend, however Carla stopped her and they decided to just leave the Ice mage alone for a while.

Gray went to the old river where he and Natsu used to fight.

He collapsed on the ground and cried as he thought of the things that happened; his fight with Natsu who happened to be END, his final mission… the whole guild, his family in a wreck… and Juvia… He stared numbly at nothing, letting his tears flow down his cheeks.

Then he heard someone.

“Gray-sama,” the voice softly called out to him.

He turned his head slowly towards the voice and he saw the one person he would willingly die for and the same person who risked her life for him…

“J-Juvia,” his voice shakes out of doubt, not knowing whether this is real or not.

“Gray-sama,” Juvia called out, trying to keep the tears from flowing but she failed as she smiled softly, “Juvia is back.”

He wasted no time as he stood up on his feet and lunged himself at her, and hugged her tight, wanting to feel the heat of her body as a sign of life…

He held her face close to him, foreheads touching as he cried openly at her… Happy that she’s alive.

** I had to write this. 

*cries a never ending river of tears because of Dean*

*also cries a never ending river of tears because of Sam*

*also cries a never ending river of tears because of Cas*

*also cries a never ending river of tears because of Deancas*

*basically cries with no ending in sight*

Ok but can you imagine daddy!Luke? Like picture him with his little girl and how he’d 100% be wrapped around her finger and at her beck and call from the moment he first laid eyes on her. The first few weeks after bringing her home would be miserable and magical for him, no in between. Like he’d be so entranced and mesmerized by her because like, “I’m actually a part of her! She’s literally a tiny me and she’s so soft!” And he would have to be either touching or looking at her ALL the time. If he couldn’t see or hear her he was a fidgeting mess. “What if something happens when I’m not looking or if I’m not there?” Which ended with him buying a new couch to put in her room where he’d sleep every night before he decided to stay in his bed but have his little princess sleep on his chest. And the boys would always have too keep him distracted while they were working so that he wouldn’t ditch early or not show up at all to go see his little lady bug. But then when she got older and she could finally go places with him 9 times out 10 she’d be in the studio with him or at a radio interview and he would always end up talking about or bragging on her. “Yeah I’m currently teaching her how to play acoustic and she’s already picking up on it!” And her uncle cal would be at her mercy as well and he made her promise to never tell a soul about the time he cried after she showed him her solo in the dance recital she’d be in soon. “How did it look uncle cal-wait are you crying?” “No! You looked like a little Angel and- excuse me I need to go do the laundry really quick.” And he’d scurry out before she could see the river of tears threatening to fall because, when did she start growing up? But she’d end up accidentally letting it slip to her uncle ash one day though after he picked her up from school to have their annual drum sesh day which was supposed to be him teaching her how to drum but it usually ended up with the two of them eating loads of snacks and watching movies and having silly string wars and playing pranks on her uncle Mickey whom she just adored and she would always apologize and draw something for him because she didn’t like when her favorite uncle was mad at her (which never happened). And he loved getting to act 5 years old without having to justify it because hello, he’s trying to please his little jigglypuff! And he would always let her decide which hair color he’d have next and was pleasantly surprised nearly every time and he’d say that “She’s my little tiny best friend!” And wow I’ve just committed metaphorical suicide. :-)