#'the world has been changed. do you want to save it?'

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Baby come home | Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: He wants you at his home. Where you belong.

Warnings: Manipulation - Toxic!Relationship - Possessive!Salesman - Stalker!Salesman - Suggestive -

He wants you by his side the moment he has his eyes on you for the very first time. Did he hear weeding bells ? No that was probably a part of him that was dead long time ago.

But did he want to possess you in every way? Heart ? Soul ? Body ? Yes. He wanted that and more. Be the one who brings you joy, who makes your world, you only need him in that. Just you and him together, no one else.

But he has to play good. He is good with words, he is a natural manipulador, he is good looking, he knows how to flirt, how to move. He knows how to get anyone on his bed and even make them do things they would never do if asked by other person.

But he is not anyone. And you are not a body he wants to use and leave behind.

No. Thats why he changes is game play. He is softer, little touches, dates, random texts, gifts, whatever a good boyfriend does to get his gilfriend happy.

And you are, after all he got a good list of your information. He knows your work hours, likes, dislikes, he is a second shadow in your life. You just dont know it.

At first its a casual meeting at the coffee shop you usually go. He catches your eye as a drinks and looks down over a book.

The same book you are currently reading.

Its fate? No, he knows you love books and got the information that you were reading this one at the time. Its a good thing to set common ground. A way of connect with you.

Its lovely how you fall for him. He sees it on how you act around him. At first you are just atracted to him by how he looks. But its the little acts he does, likes sharing his umbrella with you, paying for your drinks, walking you home when its too dark, opening the door for you, kissing your cheeck and letting his hand there like he is waiting for you to jump at him.

Its a pull he does, waits for you to give in to him. When you two are official things move well. The next step its to live together. He wants that so badly, after having you for one weekend he realizes how his home really feels like one when you are present. Besides it would save you money and time. But he can see how you seem not ready for it.

He gets it. Living alone does give you a sense of freedoom, but he cant let you have that. No when your company makes him feel so good. And he can compensate you, once you move in with him you will forget what living alone felt like. You will love him so much and crave for him so much...

You just need a push. Maybe getting some nasty neighbors would do the trick ? He gets the worse couple to move right next to your aparment. You never see them but fuck do you hear them all the time. Your sleep hours start to deteriorate so much.

The Salesman does not take vengeance on them (yet) because he is the one who sent them and also, he gets you to stay at his home more often. Being able to wrap his arms around you at night and see you on mornings.

Yes he will punish them later. For now they can live.

But its not enough. He should have know better. After all you have been facing life alone for quiet some time.

Raising the price for the aparment you are paying ? That does seem to do the trick. Everytime you two meet you look so stressed but you refuse to accept his money.

"I cant ask you for that. Its my problem to deal with" You said giving him back the wones he had offer you earlier. "Besides you let me stay at your aparment enough...and you dont even let me clean afterwards, im taking too much from you"

Oh love of his life! You can take all from him. And its not enough how many days and nights you stay. Not till it becomes a forever.

He now knows he must make things...worse. It will hurt you, but he is going to be there for you. With open arms and your favorite flowers, ready to bring back up yourself and pull the pieces together once again.

Thats why he needs you to get fired from your job. It does breaks him when you call him crying over it. How it was your dream job and how someone blamed you for a mistake you did not made and now you were jobless.

It just needs time till you cant afford rent any longer. And the shame of returning with your parents its too much. Besides he has whisper in your ear multiple times how good it would be to live together. How you could decorate his house (after a small comment on how plain it looked), how you two would be able to see each other more (not that you need to know he has hacked your phone and knows where you are 24/7) and how much money and time it would save you (He already has a company who wants to hire you...at least till he convinces you to stop working all along).

He is in heaven when you finally move in. Most of your old forniture was sold since he said he did not have space for it. But in reality he wants you to pick new one. Maybe he can help with it even if he was never good at decorating.

The sight of his wardrobe with now your clothes besides his ones makes his heart beat fast. Its criminal how many times he has smell them when you are not home, almost falling asleep with one of them as he imagines the future weeding you two will have.

You two now have matching cups for the morning coffee, something he does find a bit cheesy but he also likes it. Specially when he comes out from the shower and sees them together alongside some toasts.

It feels right, it feels good. He knows he does not deserve it but he was never fair to start with.

"Here Love you should pick a new color for our bedroom" He gives you his phone so you can look over the different colors

"But...I thought you liked how it was?"

"I believe my life its too grey already. A bit of color wont hurt. And its yours too, its natural you get to pick at least that"

Him going to the most expensive stores to check for a new bed, couch and more. He wonders if he should ask you or keep it as a suprise.

Him not letting you go on mornings and making you late (no that your Boss would ever say a thing if he values his life). He cant just let you go off from the bed, your smell and heat are his favorite things. And if he feels like he needs to give you a remind on who you belong to....

Well its a funny sight seeing you go to work walking funny. And with more makeup to cover up the different love bites.

If he feels mean he is going to Force you to keep his cum inside you for the rest of the day. And he just knows when you let some get out. Too bad he will have to fill you up again.

He cant wait to make you his wife. He already has you living with him. Your old aparment was now a memory. You had said to him how much you did prefer living with him, his aparment was bigger, neighbors that were not loud and him.

He admits his heart did skip a beat when you told him how happy you were when being with him and knowing that you would always see him at the end of the day.

Oh, of course you would. From now and for the rest of your life.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Him seeing where you live and thinking how much better you deserve

[earlycuntsets]

tech reviews from ray toro on mychemicalromance.com 2009

"Jailbreak your shit.

Bob, I feel your iPhone pain. Ever since my iPhone threw itself into the toilet, it hasn't been the same. Missed calls, no service, crap battery life, the list of muck-ups goes on.

I've been wanting to go to the Apple store to try and exchange my suicidal phone, but knew i'd be greeted by the same smugness and uppity attitude you dealt with. Every time I step foot in that store, I feel like they're doing me a favor selling me their plain aluminum products and their white earbuds. I think I bought a pair of earbuds, and inside the package was an extra pair of them crap buds.

Angry at the lack of basic functions on the iPhone, and wanted to stick it back to the man, so I did the only thing a sane man would do...I jailbroke the thing.

For those who don't know what this is, basically you're "freeing" your phone from Jobs' shackles. Now I can copy and paste, personalize the theme on my phone, record movies, answer texts without constantly having to switch programs, search my emails, run programs in the background, send pictures in texts, quickly change settings without going through a million menus, play NES games, save Youtube videos, the list goes on. The crowning jewel is when I used my cell connection on the phone to download an e-book before a flight.

This shit is fun, and now I feel the iPhone lives up to it's pricetag. Do a search for quickpwn to get started, install winterboard, backgrounder, pdanet, sbssettings, and whatever else catches your eye. Most of all, enjoy your new found freedom."

"Ray's favorite iPhone apps

Whether you're a Blackberry man or iPhone (wo)man, you gotta admit the App store is pretty rad. I've been using the iPhone for a good while now, and have come to rely on a few apps that make my daily life easier, keep me busy while driving (yeah I know its illegal, sue me), and suck up any remaining free time I might have left in a day. Here's a short list of stuff you should check out if you're so inclined...

1. Pocketmoney ($9.99) Not only does the app's icon make me think of delicious pork bacon, it also helps to keep your money straight. You can set up checking and savings account, and keep a running ledger of your spending so you don't have any more of those all-too familiar, embarrassing moments where you're trying to buy a bag of cheetos and a Quik but don't have any loot left on your card. Yeah, I know what you're probably thinking right now. "I have a perfectly good paper register the bank gave me when I signed up for my checking account, and that shit cost me $0.00." To that I say, "But your register doesn't have a sick ass pig icon!"

2. NetNewsWire (The world is going to end soon FREE as fuck!) This program is great! You know when you're having an important conversation with your wife about what you're making for dinner that week, and she's trying to write out a shopping list, and all you can think about is the latest post on Gizmodo detailing what GHZ the new intel iCore7 processor tops out at after overclocking with Nitroglycerin? Yeah, that happens to me too...Well now instead of just thinking about it, you can take out your iPhone in mid-conversation, pissing off your wife in the process, and read all the latest RSS feeds that you can stand. It even works for our site too! Huzzah!

3. Super Monkey Ball (I paid $9.99 for this??? I'm a sucker) Ok, I bought this because it was the #1 app for weeks straight. It had to be good right??? RIGHT? Well its not. I mean it has good graphics, but the controls suck. They really, really suck. Driving your dad's Nova after ingesting 10 beers at the college kegger, trying to balance a tall glass of Sunny D on your head while headbanging to Stone Cold Crazy is exponentially easier than controlling this mess. After maybe 5 tries playing the game proper, I decided it'd be much more fun to send Baby and Gongon repeatedly and utterly to their death. I hate this game. But it sure is a great time waster...

And there you have it. Three essential iPhone apps! Have fun, be safe, and Happy Thanksgiving!"

02/25/2009 12:39pm mychemicalromance.com 2009

[kingtomura]

Vitality | 6

Summary: You were always told heroes and villains had no place in your home. Not when there’s an increase in crime, not when there’s monsters on the loose in Hosu and certainly not when the man in your home raises a hand to you. All it takes is one impulsive decision to change your life forever. content: shigaraki tomura x female reader, slow burn, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, reader has a quirk, graphic depictions of violence, past abuse, past sa, angst, pstd, eventual smut, dark themes, found family LoV, mdni wc: 6.2k | prev | chapter 7 | m. list | read on ao3

Three. 

That’s how many people died on the mission with Dabi. Three people lost their lives because they challenged the League of Villains and they paid for it. 

But the worst part of all is not the fact that your nose still holds the putrid smell of charred flesh, it’s not even that this trip has given you more insight on the Cremation Villain himself. 

No, the worst part of it all is that you feel stronger. 

You feel as though you could take on anything — like you finally had a chance to take your power back. 

Dabi was right when he said it’s you or them. 

That phrase had been thrown at you over and over again in the past by your father and only now had it clicked in your mind.

You were finally in a space to do something about it.

And you had support. 

Dabi may not be the friendliest of the League, but you know now that there is more than meets the eye when it comes to the distant villain.  

So instead of a baseless fear, there is a newfound respect for the man, and it stays with you even through his snarky remarks and flippant exits from the base.

Those same thoughts are expressed in the mission recap you give to Shigaraki.  

You’ve both found yourselves back into the rhythm of the roof. A quiet pocket away from the world. 

“But there were three of them, and the one with the illusion quirk — I’ve never seen anything like it.” You go on, words falling from your tongue as you recall the recent experience. The blaze of Dabi’s flames left phantom tingles in your fingers and you bring a hand up to gaze at it.

Shigaraki is quiet as he listens on, taking a sip from his fizzy drink. 

(Toga swore she couldn't find his usual sugar filled soda and now he’s stuck with a rosy pink drink and not nearly enough caffeine.) 

There's a warmth that spreads throughout your chest as you bring your hand back down.

You missed it out here, even if the mission had only been a few days long.  

“So,” Shigaraki’s low voice starts, capturing your attention at once, “there were no problems?”

“Hm,” you look to the night sky and then back to your hand, memories flooding your mind as your shoulders drag a slow shrug, “not entirely. Things got a little tense at one point when they got me, though.”

“Got you?” He echoes, surprise in his voice so slight it goes unnoticed.

You continue on, “Yeah, I thought it was over for me. The illusion quirk was trickier than I anticipated and the paralysis quirk was dangerous.” 

Shigaraki brings a hand to his neck, the light scratching raising no alarms as you think back to your trip, almost excited to tell him how you finally stood up for yourself and did something about your situation. 

“But the paralysis only worked because he touched me, and—“ 

“Someone touched you?” His tone held a tension so tight it made your words stall.

“Yeah, but Dabi, he—”

“Why were you on the front lines?” Shigaraki cuts you off, voice as sharp as the nails that rake across his neck. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you quickly find yourself slipping into dangerous territory, unsure if your next answer would be one to put you on the chopping block.

There’s a pit in your stomach beginning to form as you wet your lips. 

This anxiety, it’s all too close to home. 

You try to still your thoughts and answer in a way that would salvage this situation, “Well, it was because of Dabi, but he saved me—!”

Shigaraki doesn’t want to hear it. 

“He could have gotten you killed.” 

Or worse, your breath hitches at the thought. It hangs in your mind, trailing behind his words. 

Yes, you could have been killed but the reality is much, much worse. 

But you can’t bring yourself to say it. 

Not aloud. 

Not to Shigaraki. 

“Reckless,” he mutters, more so to himself than to you, “we don’t need to take risks like that so soon.”

His rambles fade into the night as your mind races at what could have been, the light touches and mocking jeers pulling your attention from reality.

Shigaraki’s next words are the only thing to pull you back to shore. 

“No more missions.”

Your eyes snap to him. “What?”

“It’s too much of a liability. We need a healer here, at the base — alive.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded that your leader has, in so many words, grounded you.

“But, Shigaraki—” You go to complain but he’s heard enough.

Your leader stands and makes his way to the exit without another word, nails still biting at the skin of his neck and effectively leaving you to sit in the somber company of the whistling wind and city lights. 

————————

For hours on end it’s been a constant stream of punches, kicks and newly formed bruises on skin. 

“You have to hit harder!” Toga calls out to you as her clone gears up to strike at you once more. 

You groan as your fists come up again, dragging with the weight of your exhaustion as her doppelganger licks fresh blood from her knife. She hasn’t backed down once and shows no signs of slowing up. 

There’s nothing more you can do but brace yourself and plant your feet. Even though you were tired, you would be damned if she got the chance to call you out on it. So instead, you put on a brave face and prepare. 

The clone jumps with a speed that rivals the real thing and knocks into you with enough force to send you tumbling to the ground. 

You go down with a yell and channel your energy into coming out on top of her. 

With a bit of force and a lot of focus you manage to do it. Toga’s clone is restrained below you, her soft face clinched in pain as you pin her arm behind her back. 

“Yes, good job, little bird!” Toga calls from her perch, “Now finish it.”

The knife her clone once held has fallen to the ground out of her reach, but well within yours. It should be no problem taking her out. 

Finish it. 

No big deal.

The clone struggles beneath you as your breathing grows heavier, feeling the weight of Toga’s gaze as it pierces your back and makes you sweat.

“C’mon! End it and we can be done for the day.”

There was nothing you wanted more than to be done for the day so you could head back to your room to decompress from this relentless training.

But… 

You hesitate. 

It may have been easy to come out on top with the man from the mission, but this was different. 

Clone or not, it’s too much like her, and Himiko has done nothing but support you.

Her clone looks back at you, and you drop your gaze.

You just can’t do it. 

Your eyes close as you hear Toga’s faint steps along the grass. She finishes the job without a second thought and her doppelganger turns to muck beneath you. 

The substance it was made of clings to your bare knees and palms. 

“What happened?” She questions, standing over your kneeled form and casting a shadow over you and your doubts. 

The clone substance begins to evaporate while your eyes focus on her sleek school shoes that probably haven’t stepped inside an actual school in years. 

“I... I don’t know.” 

“You were able to help Dabi on the mission, weren't you?” Even though you can’t see her face, you can feel her concerned expression from the tone alone. “You’ve taken someone down before.”

“That was different. This one,” you pause, cautious of your next words. “She looks too much like you.”

Silence stretches between you both, loud and uncomfortable as it fills the forest fields with nothing but your awkward vulnerability and her heavy expectations. 

One fact remains the same. 

You are not a villain yet. 

You realize there won’t be a response as the quiet drags. So, out of words and tired, you sigh and flop onto your back. The soft brush of the green grass molds beneath your body as you relax, your exhausted gaze finding the deep blue hue of the sky above. 

There's not many clouds out today.

You hear Toga’s steps above where your head rests as she follows suit to lie down nearby, a calm sigh leaving her lips in the process.

Curiously, you turn your head to the side and take in her relaxed features — her golden eyes closed and cheeks dusted pink as she basks in the sun. 

“Just you wait, little bird,” she coos, catching your attention with a smile spread across her lips.

“Hm?”

“You’ll be free to do whatever you want, you know?” She starts with a yawn and you wonder if she’ll end up napping out here, “Tomura will make sure of that.”

Your eyes wander back to the sky.

She speaks as if she believes it with her whole heart, and expects you to believe too. 

Your eyes catch an airplane cutting through the infinite blue now, leaving its own trail of clouds behind and you watch it fly with placid interest. 

Free, huh…

————————

He shouldn’t care. 

He shouldn’t care and he doesn't care so why was this entire ordeal making his skin itch?

Tomura paces the space of his messy room as the prickly scratching habit makes itself known once more. 

He can’t keep doing this. He can’t keep losing his temper around you. 

Had recent events taught him nothing? He was supposed to be in charge, damn it. 

What would sensei say?

Tomura scoffs at himself. It would probably be something along the lines of, “a mission’s success is more important than the losses taken,” and lucky for Tomura, there were no losses.

But there could have been.

Frustrated, Tomura crashes into his computer chair in a heap as he brings the machine to life. 

He’s quick to pull up a search tab and make sure the various seeds placed for his future endeavors remain planted.

There is a goal to accomplish, a bigger picture and he can’t spend more time than necessary on something as simple as unmanaged feelings. 

No, Tomura needed to grow. Sensei tried to make him aware of that. 

Tomura closes one tab and opens another, typing your name into the search bar and taking note of the results.

Your articles are dwindling. 

Good.

The sooner that false story leaves the eye of the public, the easier it will be for you to move on. 

The sooner you move on, the sooner you’ll be able to reach your full potential. 

The sooner you can do that… the sooner Tomura can stop wasting his precious time on you and your striking familiarity. 

It's beginning to drive him mad. 

Tomura is a leader, but he has no time to play therapist to those with troubled pasts. If that were the case he would have a private venting session with all of his League members.  

He wants everyone to flourish and stand on their own. The operation just works better that way.

But…

That’s easier said than done. 

Tomura leans back in his desk chair and takes a breath.

Dabi finished the job as intended, which means there's no one for him to take this rising frustration out on, and he’s become too high profile for his usual walks. 

The roof was a compromise of sorts. Somewhere he could get fresh air without putting himself at obvious risk, but now—

Damn it, his thoughts cycle back — they always seem to cycle back — to the mystery that you are. 

Tomura taps a finger on the desk as his thoughts run rampant. 

No, he can’t let himself be blinded by curiosity. Especially not if it's going to interfere with his temper. He has to stay focused. 

This isn't only about him now. 

There’s a bigger picture to be revealed. 

He has to take down All Might. 

He has to focus.

Tomura closes the remaining tabs on his computer and shuts the system down.

The last of the lingering light in his room comes from his desk lap and it shines down on a lone scrap of paper resting on his desk.

It’s a polaroid.

One of a blond boy, locked in chains and muzzled like an animal.

The photo catches his eye and Tomura feels the puzzle pieces of the world snap back into place. 

His rampant thoughts cease. 

Yes, it’s best for everyone to find their place here, to flourish and stand on their own. 

The mission before was just a precursor for what he had planned, and with a few more preparations the League could make their next move. 

His sparse brows lift in amusement as he remembers how close his next goal is to fruition. 

This was it. 

With careful fingers he picks up the photo, a wicked smile dancing onto his features as his mind regains its much needed clarity. 

In the League anyone could become what they want to be, and Tomura would be the one to ensure that.

————————

Everything feels humid.

It feels oppressive and stuffy and you can’t breathe. 

Your lips purse as you try to break free of the spell that bound you. There’s no way to know when or how, but you were trapped. 

Your eyes are open, but you can’t see. 

The noises you try to make from your mouth don’t come out, sending you further into a panic. Your limbs try to hit at anything, but feel submerged in jello. There was no way out of this and you couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that if you didn’t do something soon you’d surely suffocate. 

The sounds of muffled laughs and deep voices plague your ears as the unwanted feel of feather light touches dance along your skin. 

Those touches soon turn harsh — hungry and biting for more of you than you could ever hope to give.

Your head starts to spin with the overload of feelings, your mind racing as you continue to fight against this assault.

You wake with a scream.

Out of breath and panting, you grip your cotton shirt, looking around your dark room for any signs of intruders.  

There's no one there with you. The area is still and silent, the only noise to keep you company is the loud ringing in your ears as you try to make sense of what you know realize was a nightmare. 

It’s the dead of night according to the clock on your nightstand. 

Reaching over, you turn on the lamp, it’s dull light doing little to illuminate the space. You make due with it for now, though — thankful as it chases away the rest of the fog from your mind. 

You feel shaken and outside yourself as your eyes dart around the room, your mind wanting to ensure that you are alone to bear the burden of bad dreams. 

You are, and it was just a dream. 

This mantra plays on repeat in your mind as you bury yourself beneath the blankets and try to go back to sleep. 

But it’s no use. 

Every time you close your eyes that sickening feeling claws its way back into your mind, haunting you like a lingering ghost. 

The more you try to close your eyes and forget, the more unsettled you feel.

After countless minutes of tossing and turning bring you no comfort, you give up altogether and sit up, facing the night head on. 

You can’t go back to sleep like this. 

Any other night you would take this as an opportunity to find peace on the roof.

Your hands clench the plush of your blanket, pushing those thoughts away. You haven't been to the roof since that night, and maybe it was better that way. 

Staying out of Shigaraki’s way feels more comfortable and making yourself small feels familiar.

So, rubbing the fast fading sleep from your eyes, you examine the contents of your room, scanning over the growing number of books on your bookshelf to the papers tossed haphazardly across your desk. 

You pause. 

There, sitting atop the desk, is the black gaming system Shigaraki gave you. 

It hadn’t moved an inch since he gifted it to you that night. 

But it wasn’t from lack of interest.

Ever since your conversation with Shigaraki on the roof, the training you had been doing with Toga had tripled to the point where your body ached from the extensive exercise. 

You knew it had been Shigaraki’s doing, but your body was too exhausted to find him and complain about it afterwards. 

Your body was too tired for anything afterwards, even disruptive dreams were rare on those nights. The only thing on your mind had been the ache of your muscles and the warm bath that would follow your rigorous routine. 

You hadn’t dreamt at all. 

The relief of retreating to your welcoming bed was too strong. 

But now that’s changed. 

Toga has left for a mission and you’ve found yourself with more free time on your hands than you would like to admit.  

So, as phantom hands and lingering leers cling to your mind, you stand on shaky legs and reach your desk. 

It’s cold, you note as your fingers brush over the scratched device, picking it up and searching for the power button. Some part of you doubted it held a charge after how long it's been sitting, but the bright white light of the screen startles you as it turns on, its cheerful chime loud in the silence of your bedroom. 

There’s already a game inside. 

A silly humanoid cat creature with a blue cap pops up on screen and you take a seat back on your bed. 

It’s a colorful sidescroller that's not too difficult to get the hang of. 

Getting lost in the game feels easy as you lie back and continue to mash buttons and beat the levels. 

It’s… cute.

And distracting. 

So distracting that you don’t even realize you’d fallen asleep until your eyes flutter open the next morning. 

Days go by and the game has captured your attention more and more.

Toga is still away, and with her absence comes a lull in your tasks. You haven't completely put off training, but the break feels nice. Being strictly a healer comes naturally to you, and beyond that there isn’t much else for you to do. 

The bar upstairs has been a more welcoming area. With its more lively crowd, you have a little more fun being around others instead of your secluded bedroom. 

Shigaraki is in his usual place, slouching on a stool at the far end of the bar, while Kurogiri slides you another glass of the fizzy clear soda you swear you’re not becoming addicted to. 

And you’ve brought the console with you. 

Level after level, you soak in its bright colors, the semi-difficult puzzles and all around fun of the game. 

Until you reach level nineteen. 

You’ve been at it for hours, but the result is the same. Run, jump, kick and fall. Your character falls deep into the digital abyss and you’re stuck looking on as he respawns and bounces idly in place. 

“God damn it.” You curse under your breath as your character dies for the fifth time in a row. You’re left to huff a sigh as you place the system down on the counter and glare at the empty glass of soda before you. 

The game is fun, until it’s not. 

You halfheartedly wonder if all games were this way as Kurogiri notices your frustrations and quietly refills your glass. 

With a quick nod of thanks to the apparition you take the glass, downing the drink and sending your frustrations with it as you come back to reality. 

A quick scan around the bar shows you that there aren’t many people in today, but that’s okay. Sometimes it's nice to just not be alone. And when there’s one too many members present things get… loud.

Your gaze lands back on the game, wearily debating if you should ask your leader for help with it — he gave you the damned thing after all — but you pause. 

Shigaraki is quiet as he flips through a newspaper, completely unbothered by commotion beyond his readings. 

You haven’t spoken since that night, you’ve barely even seen him. 

Your brows furrow as those familiar anxieties begin to rear its ugly head yet again.  

At home you would know if your father had a problem with you. The silent treatment only lasted so long before he would—

No.

You weren’t home anymore. There was nothing coming to get you or hurt you. You take a breath and turn towards your leader.

“Hey, Shigaraki,” it’s hard to be certain from the hand covering his face, but you believe he hears you, “Could you, maybe, help me out with this level? I can’t get past it.”

You try to stop the small tremble as you hold the small console out to him, half expecting him to completely ignore you like he ignores the racket around him.

But he doesn’t. 

Shigaraki turns his head, eyeing the game and then looking back at you. 

He reaches out, taking the system. His gentle touch surprises you as his careful fingers grip the system with a care only years of mandatory practice could cultivate. Those dangerous hands were free from the confids of his partial gloves, and you suspect that he prefers it that way. 

They’re weapons and with his lifestyle it’s best to be ready for anything. 

(You will yourself not to think of the implications your rooftop nights have — the nights where he is gloved and unguarded.)

It takes him no time to sink into the game, a soft tsk as he seems to find exactly where you went wrong. 

“Here,” he hands it back to you, mindful not to brush his fingers against yours. “There was a platform above the hole. You had to jump at a certain angle to see it.”

The character on the screen cheers as he completes the level, but you remain stuck in place, unsure what to say besides a muttered thank you. 

Somewhere inside you almost wish you had more to say.

Nightfall comes and the other members begin to clear out, but Shigaraki remains. 

You debate retiring to your chambers as well, silently dreading the gray walls that await you. 

The faint sounds of glass clinking meets your ears as Kurogiri puts cups away, fully absorbed in his task of shutting down the bar. 

You move to stand, knowing you were better off heading to your room than the roof, better off heading to bed where your nightmares will undoubtedly chase you awake once more. 

But… 

No, you shake the thoughts from your mind. 

You have the game. It shouldn't be a problem to play until you fall asleep.

The chill is the first thing to greet you as you open the door to your bedroom. 

The silence is next.

A sigh leaves you as you make your way over to the bed, tossing the game onto your bedside table and allowing yourself to fall into the sheets. 

No matter how much you try and fight the feelings they just won't go away. 

You can’t deny it. 

You miss the roof.

And even more, you miss gazing out at the city and you miss not being alone.

Silent nights with Shigaraki were… nice. Peaceful. The most peace you had gotten in a long time.

It takes a moment but you sit up, knowing sleep wouldn’t find you anytime soon. 

Even if your leader wasn’t on the roof tonight, you could at least get some fresh air. It’s an easy option, you convince yourself as you grab the extra blanket Kurogiri gave you during your first week here. 

You push down the worry clouding your mind and leave the desolate place you call your bedroom.

There’s an almost giddy feeling rising within your chest as you make it to the secluded space. A feeling that makes you feel like you’ve discovered a grand secret and it was yours and yours alone to keep. 

For some reason you didn’t think Shigaraki would be there. You’d convinced yourself that maybe he felt the same way you did, too preoccupied with the sour note the night had been left off on and fully crossed out the roof as his hiding place. 

But, no.

He’s sat in his usual spot, sipping his usual energy drink and looking out at the night sky,

Your steps are light as you slowly make your way over, gentle as if he would make a dash for the exit and leave at any slight sound. 

But he doesn’t. 

No, Shigaraki sits there, hand no longer obscuring his face. He’s so still you almost think he hasn’t even noticed you.

A naive thought.

Your leader seems more aware of his surroundings than the average villain. 

Your steps stop just before you reach him, but his gaze remains fixed on the city lights.

“I brought you something,” your voice is soft, uncertain as you watch him take another sip of his drink. You knew the silence would last forever if you hadn’t broken it first. And it's not a lie, technically. It can be for the both of you. 

Finally, he turns to you, eyeing the blanket in your hands. 

“I thought it would be nice to have something to sit on.” You fight to keep your words from catching in your throat, but it’s hard. His piercing red gaze does nothing to soothe you and his lack of words makes your anxieties heighten.

“Are you stuck on another level?” His voice breaks through the tension and your shoulders begin to relax. 

If he seems bothered by your presence he doesn't show it. 

“No, I—” you pause, debating your next words — things feel so fragile right now. “I just wanted to come out here again.”

The wind whistles, carrying the strain of your worries on its back as you watch your leader.  

“It’s been a while.” You continue, watching Shigaraki’s ashen hair blow in the soft wind.

“You’re free to do what you want, you know,” he says between another sip. “You don’t need permission.”

“Right.” You mumble, eyes cast down at the cemented roof he sits on, “stand up for a second.”

Shigaraki watches you, but does as he’s told, giving you an opportunity to spread the blanket below and it's an honest improvement to the space. 

The quiet that spreads between you is more familiar. More comforting.

It lets you fall into the ambiance of slow cars and the calm city, the open air of the outside being just what you need to calm your mind and relax. You feel more confident in the unfiltered space, away from those gray, claustrophobic four walls of your bedroom.

“I wouldn’t mind some tips, if you had any,” you start, stopping that train of thought and pulling out the gaming system. The chime of the start screen fills the air and you bite back a smile.

He watches, the residual light from the screen shining against his face, making those ruby eyes shine brighter. “I might.”

You take the initiative and scoot closer to him, feeling a childish elation at the idea of learning something new about your borrowed game. 

Shigaraki doesn’t stop you, but he makes no attempt to move closer, only reaching for the device and starting a new level. 

“Here,” he tilts the screen, allowing you a better view as his character runs towards a wall. The faint smell of fresh linen meets your nose, it's soft against his well worn black hoodie. You try to ignore it, knowing your mind would wander but the proximity forces you to take note. 

You never thought Shigaraki would smell bad, per se, but you didn’t think it would be noticeably nice.

Cozy, even.

“And if you do that right…” he continues, pulling your attention back to the tutorial at hand, “you should get… this.” 

A box appears above the character and he jumps, claiming three extra lives and you would be impressed if you weren’t trying too hard not to show how distracted you were.

“O-oh! That’s cool.” Your hand finds the hem of your shirt, nervously picking at the seams as you watch on. Shigaraki wasn’t quite done showing you the tricks of the game and you wordlessly thank the stars for the distraction. 

This time, he leans over giving you a much better view of the game as his fingers press the controller buttons rapidly. “If you time it just right you can do…” his words trail off as the character makes contact with an enemy, making it disappear while gaining a power up. “This.”

The character jumps, its new and boosted form reaches higher than he could have without and meets the finish line. Shigaraki wins.

“Whoa.” You breathe and in any other case you would try to say more, show more enthusiasm, but you can’t ignore the soft scent of oatmeal and cinnamon. Shigaraki smells… warm. 

“It gets easier when you know where to look.” He finishes the demonstration and there's no chance you’ll be able to replicate his tutorials. 

So you nod, hoping that the night sky will hide the growing flush in your cheeks. 

Childish. Stupid.

You try to shake off the sprouting feelings. 

It’s probably just your mind playing tricks on you, anyway. An act of kindness that sends your brain haywire. 

“I didn’t think games like this were your type.” The words fall from your lips before you realize. 

Shigaraki raises a sparse brow, more curious than irritated. “What games do you think are my type?”

“Hm,” you pause, stopping to really ponder what may or may not be Shigaraki’s type, “I’m not sure. To be honest, I didn’t think I would like this game as much as I do, to be honest.”

“You’ve never played anything like this?”

Your smile is somber as it bites the bitter taste of your past. “No, my father had me on a pretty tight leash. I didn’t play much of anything. There was one game I really wanted though. Um, I think it was pocket monsters?”

“You’ve never played pocket monsters?” Shigaraki’s tone is usually even, but even he can’t hide the genuine surprise. 

You spit a laugh. “No, he saw that they battled or whatever and shut any dream of that down. Its,” your voice fades as you face the reality of your past, “Kind of depressing, really.”

Shigaraki stays quiet, watching the way you sigh. You wonder if he were looking through you, peering right into your mind and uncovering all of your dirty, disgusting past. 

If he were able to see all of that — to see all of you — what would he say?

After a moment he turns away, seemingly having gotten his fill of your damaged disposition and bringing his attention back to the sky above. 

“You would probably be a water type trainer.” He says suddenly, catching your attention. 

“Hm? What makes you say that.”

He shrugs, a lazy half lift of his shoulders. “It just fits you.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes are caught on his fingers, the way those hazardous hands grip the console, careful not to hold it in a way that would harm it. Forever cautious that those hands would make it disintegrate into a pale dust and then nothingness, doomed to ashes as it would blow away. 

You can’t imagine how stressful a quirk like that would have been to grow up with.  

“You would be a ghost type trainer.”

“Oh?” 

“Mhm,” You nod, eyes cutting away from his hands as you try to stomp down the sheepish feelings rising in your chest. “It’s in your name.”

Mourning. 

The words go unspoken, hanging in the air between you. It hangs heavy and you want to continue, need to continue.

You think of your leader and his growing gang of misfits, you think of the way there were no questions asked when taking you in and his previous words of encouragement. 

Tomura Shigaraki may be a dangerous villain, but he’s shown you more consideration than the person who was supposed to raise you. 

“You seem like the type… to see the beauty in abandoned things.” You fight through the nerves and speak your mind, unwilling to back down with how far you've gone. “Things that may have been forgotten, or lost…”

Himiko’s words echo in your mind, then Dabi and his hardened expression.

“... Things without a home.”

The silence stretches for a long time, you almost worry that you’ve said something wrong, but you can't help but feel a little happy to have gotten that out of your mind.

You pick up the conversation again.

“You know, talking about games with you, I,” your eyes meet the blanket below, your digits picking at the hem of it. “I feel like I've missed out on a lot.” 

Countless nights of telling your friends you can’t meet them at the movies, can’t go with them to stay-away camp, can’t do anything.

The only thing you can do is wait and watch your life pass you by in a prison dressed up as a broken home. 

“Do you ever feel this way?” The words slip out before you're able to catch them, the ache of connection too desperate to stay hidden inside. 

You don’t know much about Shigaraki, but you know that his upbringing must have been unusual if he’s turned out this way. Yet he’s here, trying to fight against what he believes is injustice. There has to be something that drives him to keep standing.

The quiet stretches and you’re about ready to change the topic and pretend you hadn’t asked anything. 

“Sometimes.” 

Your head turns to him, surprised. 

He gives his half shrug again. “But there’s no point in sitting in something that can’t change. The past is the past. Carve your own future.”

You bring your knees to your chest desperately trying to fight off the familiar burn of tears in your eyes. Once you would start, it would only be downhill from there.

“I just want to be normal.”

“Normal is subjective.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to society.” The words are bitter and they leave a sour taste on your tongue, knowing there is no way to live a life where you are just like anyone else. 

To be someone who’s had the comfort and privilege of growing up in a healthy, stable life. 

To live in a world where you could only read the articles about some home invasion in another city and gasp in disbelief that something like that could ever happen. 

In this fantasy world, you would shake your head in disappointment, make some comment about society going downhill and show the story to a friend for validation. Then you would close the page and move on with your day, forever forgetting about travesty because situations like that don’t happen to normal people. 

But that isn't how things work. 

Not for you. Never for you. 

“You should take that feeling and hold it close.”

Your brows furrow as you turn to him, your impending spiral screeching to a halt.

“Foster it and let it grow.” Shigaraki continues, handing his gaming system back to you with such careful hands. So, so delicate and gentle, unable to even risk a brush of your fingers. Somehow, this feels even closer than if he had touched you. “Why should they go on about their lives while you suffer?”

His voice is soft. 

It's tender, as if you were fragile enough to break with words alone. Your heart thumps against the cage of your chest as you hold the game tight, bringing it close and allowing it to anchor you. This conversation feels familiar, like the one you shared in your first days here.

Shigaraki gives a slow half smile and those warm feelings inside of you grow, spreading to your cheeks and ears while you hang on to each word, “you deserve to show the world your feelings.”

You gasp and meet his eyes, entranced as he breathes a new light into you with those words.

You see the beauty in abandoned things. 

It's true. 

But you never thought he’d see it in you.

A familiar roll of thunder drags you form your stupor, eyes transfixed on the gleam in his eyes and budding feelings within. 

“Sounds like it’ll rain soon.” His voice breaks through, and he’s already rising from his place on the blanket.

You nod a tad more enthusiastically than you should and hurry to gather the cover, flushing deeper as you notice he’s glued to his spot.

He’s waiting for you.

Your feet patter against the concrete of the roof as you nearly skip over to him, the smallest drops of rain meeting your cheeks. Your mind races as you gather two important things from tonight:

Tomura Shigaraki is an interesting guy.

And you are a curious cat.

[continuants]

here we are again, another full rotation around the sun. life has changed SO much since 2021. all of these things are still great ways to celebrate january 25th.

today, we’ll be turning our apartment into abundance coffee co. and celebrating friendship, joy, creativity, and of course coffee. i feel so grateful for the wonderful people in my life and i want to share that abundance with them, while channeling my inner college barista. i remember late nights at the café, vibing and singing and laughing and feeling so free. that’s what i want to bring into the world today.

celebrate yourself today. honor yourself. every version of you that ever was and will be. close your eyes and time travel to all the points where you felt the most alive.

this year to celebrate my birthday, do something that makes you feel the most alive you’ve felt in awhile. whatever that is, squeeze the juice out of it. use the stickers you’ve been saving. break out the good stuff and devour it. relish it.

and as always, tell the people you love you love them. and do a lot of gardening if that’s your thing.

happy january 25th 🩷

Things you can do to celebrate my birthday today

pet a cat or scroll through cat pictures on tumblr dot com

stay HYDRATED. drink water!!!!

eat a delicious gluten-free treat (or gluten full whatever your passion)

make a donation to trans lifeline or lil bub’s big fund

visit your local library, or send it good thoughts if it’s closed right now. make sure you have a library card!

promise to take a day off of work on your birthday. never work on your birthday.

take a drive somewhere screaming along to your favorite album

look at some crystals, or gifs of crystals, and stare into the abyss

tell your friends you love them!!!!!!

light a candle and make a wish for your community and your people. magic is strong and full of love today.

stare at the moon

hope this helps you have an amazing amandab’s birthday!!!

[angels-heap]

Super Chocolate Bear fic masterpost

I compiled these links to add to another Super Chocolate Bear appreciation post, but I think it's worth making a standalone post as well.

Context for those unfamiliar: From 2006-2013, an author on Fanfiction.net named Super Chocolate Bear wrote five incredible novelizations of the Half Life games. These fics have since been deleted, but they are still accessible via the Wayback Machine and can be downloaded in various formats (with slightly wonky formatting) from the Internet Archive library.

If you have never read these, do yourself a favor and give them a shot. Super Chocolate Bear, if you're still out there... thank you. <3

*****

The Black Mesa Incident (Internet Archive | Wayback Machine) Gordon Freeman started it. Adrian Shephard has been sent to finish it. And Barney Calhoun is just stuck in the middle.

Sidelines (Internet Archive | Wayback Machine) A lot happened while Gordon Freeman was away...

Welcome to City 17 (Internet Archive | Wayback Machine) The entire planet is under Combine rule, and the human resistance struggles to survive. But then a misplaced scientist steps off a train, and everything changes.

Aftermath (Internet Archive | Wayback Machine) Breen is dead, City 17 is in ruins, the Citadel is collapsing, but the Combine is still powerful, and determined to survive. Then a scientist is found in the wreckage, and once again, everything changes.

One Long Shift (Internet Archive | Wayback Machine) Others are trying to save the world. Barney just wants to get these people to White Forest without anyone dying.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

What do you think, Azula and Zuko are more alike than their fans want to admit or are they completely opposite and going in different directions?

ANON, YOU FOOL, YOU OPENED THE FLOODGATES!

Azula and Zuko are a classic case of "same writing, different font." Just two sides of the same coin. Zuko is who Azula would be if she had been the scapegoat of the family, wore her heart on her sleeve, was just a good bender instead of a prodigy, and was willing to question Ozai. Azula is who Zuko would be if he managed to suppress emotions, didn't get in his own way due to impatience/desperate need to prove himself, was the golden child and never questioned Ozai in any way.

They have MANY things in common. Both are stubborn, proud, deeply patriotic, ambitious, social disasters yet super badass when in their element, passionate about their beliefs and, more importantly, take their roles VERY seriously - what creates contrast between them is what said roles are. Azula is the "perfect", ruthless, cunning princess that was taught to be proud about not caring for others. Zuko is disgraced son that has to prove himself (to himself, to Ozai, and, later on, to the world) that he is worthy of being the future Fire Lord.

This point is even highlighted by the role reversal that happened in the Last Agni Kai, in which Zuko is winning by using Azula's tactics, letting her attack and waste all her energy, while he saves up his own so he can strike full force once she's too tired - he even tries to goad her into using lightining so he can redirect it and win, and it would have probably worked if Azula hadn't found an easy target in Katara. Their strategies, levels of confidence and even personalities change to be more like their sibling's based on their situation.

They're also driven by the same fears: of not being good enough, of not being worthy enough, of not being loved. Fiting considering they were indoctrinated/traumatized by the same system/person, under the same roof, even if they were abused in different ways.

We see them making a ton of the same mistakes as well.

Zuko wants to make the ship go through a dangerous storm to chase the Avatar because "the safety of the grew doesn't matter", Azula has her infamous "Do the tides command this ship?" moment.

Azula banishes everyone because she's struggling to cope with her friends' "betrayal", Zuko becomes a much more cruel and self person after being disfigured by Ozai and even tries to get away from Iroh several times.

Azula is verbally abusive to her brother and sometimes her friends, Zuko is verbally abusive to their uncle.

Azula throws Zuko under the bus to be in Ozai's good graces, Zuko throws Iroh under the bus to win his dad's affection.

That last one is also part of a very noticeable pattern: Whenever Zuko is being unapologetic about being a villain, he tends to be VERY cunning and one hell of backstaber.

The Avatar returned but he couldn't capture him? He tried to keep it a secret. If no one else knows about it, they can't steal his chance to go home by capturing him first.

Some pirates want to attack the Gaang because they stole a scroll? Free henchmen. He just has to pretend this kid he wants to capture is not the Avatar, and thus not worth A LOT more than what these guys are getting as a reward. Zuko even has the nerve to go "Don't listen to him, he's just trying to divide us" when Sokka points out that he's REALLY screwing them over with this deal (they should make a support group with Long Feng).

Zhao captured the Avatar before he could? Go kidnap that monk back. It doesn't matter that Aang's capture means the nation Zuko genuinely loves will have no true obstacle in it's path for victory: If he's not the one scoring that major win, NO ONE is. His nation and his family can have their moment of glory AFTER he got his, not a second earlier.

Zhao tried to kill him and is going after the Avatar again? Time to dress up as one of his men to be taken by the idiot himself to the North Pole so he can interfere with his plans - literally the same as Azula pretending to be Suki, taking over Ba Sing Se and as a bonus discovering about their plans for the eclipse.

Azula is tracking Aang to capture him? Just follow right behind her and wait until she doesn't have her friends along so he has a better chance of winning the fight against her and being the one to take the Avatar to Ozai.

Oh, he was brought home because the Avatar is "dead"... except that might not be true, so maybe he'll be banished again? Mouth shut, Azula is the one who "killed" him anyways. Worse comes to worse, send an assassin to finish the job.

Hell, even when he's already determined to be a good person, he calls himself stupid for not blaming the whole assassin thing on his sister. Literally blaming her for his fuck up, the same way she did with that "Zuko was the one who killed the Avatar" thing.

His POV in Earth Kingdom Chronicles also give us some insight into what exactly he was thinking during the events of Crossroads of Destiny:

Zuko, I’m begging you,” Uncle said. “Look into your heart and see what it is that you truly want.” “You are free to choose,” Azula said. Then she and the Dai Li left. She is right. I am free to choose. And Uncle is right too. I must look into my heart and find what it is I truly want. That is easy. It’s what I’ve always wanted. I cannot deny my heart, my heritage, and who I truly am. I raced from the cell out into an open courtyard, where Azula was battling Katara and the Avatar. They had reached a stalemate, and then they were each waiting to see who would strike next. I did. I sent a fire blast that landed right between them. They were all looking at me, wondering what my next move would be. Good. I will show them my choice, the choice I always knew I would make.

Uncle looked at me without saying a word. Then he looked away. I can tell he’s very disappointed in me. But I had to do what I did.

Zuko is, to the Gaang, what Azula is to him: the wildcard, a huge pain in the ass, the unreliable son of a bitch that every so often gets them to chill just enough that they forget they REALLY shouldn't trust him, as he has a tendency of putting himself first, screw everyobody else. And much like he struggled to win their forgiveness and friendship after all that nonsense, Azula has to deal with Zuko's understandable suspicion of her intentions whenever she actually feels like genuinely being a good sister to him.

And what makes that parallel even more obvious (deliberately or not on the show's part) is that, when fighting Azula, Zuko is represented by the color red, but when compared to the Gaang, Zuko is constantly represented by the color blue. That's Azula's signature color, her name was literally chosen by the showrunners because of her blue flames - yet Zuko is the Blue Spirit, and is represented by the blue dragon when he and Aang meet Ran and Shaw.

And speaking of blue dragons, the "shoulder devil" in his fever dream has Azula's voice, while the "shoulder angel" has Iroh's voice... yet when he's trying to be one of the good guys, not only does Zuko explicitly ask himself "What would AZULA do?, he actually manages to be accurate when putting himself in her shoes, unlike when he tries to think/talk like Iroh, which always comes out as pure giberish.

So while the part of him that is more Azula-esque is very much treated as his "bad" side, it is still clearly a side that isn't going away, and sometimes it represents him better (and is far easier for him to understand/connect with) than the part of him that is more like Iroh - again, especially when Zuko's being compared to more "moral" people - and the writers are VERY aware of that pattern of Azula being THE person who knows how to get into Zuko's head like no one else can, mainly because of their familial relationship.

This quote about it by Bryan Konietzko in an interview was very interesting (and yes, I needed the wiki to let me know which half of "Bryke" he was 'cause I still can't tell them apart)

"When you study Eastern philosophies, the ego is a really tough enemy or antagonist. Again, we like to treat our characters very realistically. In real life, people have moments of great weakness, usually tied in with the ego. Your siblings can push your buttons. I have four siblings, a brother and three sisters, and no one can get you like your siblings. Azula knew ALL the right buttons to push to play at his weaknesses, parts of his ego which were susceptible to her. She did it well, and it was a moment where he just tasted this thing which he's wanted and focused on, obsessed over, for so long. I think it was very realistic."

Azula being Zuko's "ego" (or at least the person that can use it to their advantage the most due to her understanding of it) ties into her being his "bad" side, and makes for a nice parallel with her POV in the book Earth Kingdom Chronicles

I sent a message to Iroh’s tea shop — making it look as if the note had come from the Earth King — requesting that he and Zuko come to the palace as guests of the king, to personally serve him tea. There was no way Iroh could resist such an offer. The next day, I watched from the shadows as Iroh and Zuko set up tea in the palace tea room. I marveled at how soft and so pitifully domesticated they had both become. The once great general, who was called the Dragon of the West, and the Fire Lord’s firstborn, preparing tea like servants. If my father could see his son … Well, no matter. Soon they will be back in the Fire Nation, or else they will be destroyed.

I know he doesn’t believe Iroh and all his talk of turning to goodness. I know what Zuko wants deep in his heart. I have always known him better than anyone else. He can’t hide his true feelings and desires from me, no matter what he says, no matter how noble a face he puts on for others. I know what choice he will make, even if he doesn’t know.

It's interesting how Azula knew how to appeal to Iroh's ego as well - and that she's almost offended on their behalf, seeing them acting as servants, because, whatever her issues with them, they're still from the same bloodline as herself, and she very much would NOT accept being in such position, therefore they shouldn't be playing that role either (and it's clear she'll deal with them harshly if they fail to prove they were not, indeed, "domesticated").

But it's also obvious that she has a much better understanding of how to bring Zuko to her side - and that she doesn't care that much if Iroh follows along or just gets destroyed. Zuko was very much the true goal, and she actually lets us know why.

Poor, poor Zuko. I actually feel sorry for him. He still doesn’t understand, even at his moment of ultimate achievement. “Father doesn’t need to restore your honor, Zuko,” I explained. “Today you restored your own honor.” My brother looked away from me with a pained expression across his face. I hope he can eventually believe what I have told him: that by choosing his family, by choosing me over the Avatar, he has come back to his rightful place in the Fire Nation. And I welcome him by my side.

If Azula is Zuko's ego, the part of him that encourages his manipulative, selfish, cruel tendencies, Zuko is Azula's heart. That part of her that is still, in some way, innocent. Just a young girl that wants her brother to come home, so they can be a family again. The part of her that wants to be beside him, not three steps ahead of him in everything, taunting him about how he'll never catch up - because if he doesn't, she's alone.

Zuko's mistake was indulging his ego way too much, Azula's mistake was neglecting her heart - and both mistakes are a result of the same thing, namely Ozai and what he thought made someone strong or weak. Admiting fault and caring for others is weakness, and needs to be punished harshly. Burning everything down to be king of the ashes is strength.

And loyalty is something he demands from, and imposes on, others, not something HE is to ever give to anyone, hence him leaving Azula behind in the finale, to which she argues "You can't treat me like that, you can't treat me like Zuko."

She played by his rules, she neglected her heart so she would be worthy of Ozai's love - and then he took his love back anyway, just because he could. And then Zuko shows up and gets his happy ending after having asked Katara "How would you like to help me put Azula in her place?" He tamed his ego, and was rewarded for it.

Now, there is one big problem with that dynamic of "Zuko has to be loved, Azula has to be controled" which is when an incompetent writer crosses the line from making that literal instead of symbolic - which is how we end up with the Yang comics, in which Zuko cannot be described as anything but Azula's abuser, whom she's both loyal to and incredibly hateful towards.

He's the new Ozai, which is very ironic considering that was what Azula wanted him to be, and what the comics are telling us Zuko is fighting back against, even though he's constantly framed as the good guy for showing his sister the back of his hand (or an asylum to be neglected in, or the edge of a cliff to be thrown off of) when she's in the middle of a psychotic breakdown.

The show avoided that gross narrative with one simple solution: Ego's (Azula's) "Death" is not the triumph one would expect. She's humanized more than ever in the finale (and before in The Beach), the music is somber, and Zuko looks at her with pity by the end of the battle because this is a tragedy.

Because Azula is not just part of him, a symbolic element of his arc, she's her own person - and Ehasz making it clear that he planted the seeds for Zuko to help Azula redeem herself by showing her unconditional love frames his return as being not just her foe coming back to defeat her, but as her Heart sweeping in to rescue her.

Because, despite all the false dichotomy about how it's either him or her ("born lucky, lucky to be born", "I'm about to celebrate becoming an only child", "the showdown that was always meant to be") it simply is not a true victory for Zuko if the consequence is Azula's demise - and clearly the same applied to her, since she went out of her way to bring him back home.

...And to give credit where credit is due, even Gene Yang didn't fuck that up completely as, in Smoke and Shadow, when Azula is talking to Zuko (in a crypt belonging to a former Fire Lord's most trusted advisor no less) the man has Azula herself tell Zuko that sooner or later he'll realize they're one in the same.

(Even if I suspect that is just a result of him continuing trying to make Azula "Avatar's Joker" and since Zuko would be Batman, she would be obsessed with being his opposite and "completing" him, but hey, accidentally getting something right is still getting something right)

Oh, and they're both really pretty. That has nothing to do with anything, but I felt the need to mention it anyway.

[technicallybeautifulfest]

Oh hello SOMEONE WANTS TO GET TO KNOW ME I'm putting this in my diary 🫶🏼

Thank you @bitching-and-witching for tagging me🥰

🎧Last Song🎧: idk honestly, my fiance and I have Playlists together for different moods (smoking, ear worms, working out, etc) so it may have been Fall Out Boy or LP or Coheed and Cambria....this morning though inhave doechii stuck in my head(:

🎨Favorite Color🎨: this changes all the time!! Right now I'm obsessed with purple, pink, and green. I do have a favorite color combination though and it's peach and grey

Like how stinking pretty is that? I also love pink and white together.

📚Last Book📚: i just picked reading back up so I haven't finished anything in a while but the last one I did finish was Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult. It is about a school shooting and was written in a time when a school shooting in America was a national tragedy and not another Tuesday. I have started other books more recently but have yet to finish. The most recent book I opened is actually a self help book to help me control my mean girl inner dialog.

🍿Last Movie🍿: does Dead Meats Kill Count count? If not, it was a studio ghibli. I can't remember which one though, I think Spirited Away.

📺Last TV Show📺: Bridgerton! I literally finally started it yesterday and I am already so into it. I love love LOVE drama TV shows. I hadn't watched this one until now though because I usually don't like period pieces like this but I've been hearing only good things about the show since it came out. I'm only a few episodes in so far but I can and will binge watch like crazy so we'll see how long before o finish it lol

🍔sweet/spicy/savory🍔: spicy. I know i have been blessed with a weak stomach/GI system but so far I am (somehow) still able to eat spicy foods. I don't typically like sweets but I will have some times when a craving is too strong and I need a zebra cake. Savory is also OK but I will add hot sauce(:

🌀Current Obsession🌀: YouTube. 🙃 Dead Meat has become a staple in this house over the last few months. Also watch a ton of Memoria, Any Austin, Gabi Belle, and Game Grumps. Oh and Let's Game It Out for when I need a little chaos.

🔍Last Thing Searched🔍: how to spell Gabis name lmao

👀Looking Forward To 👀 : a job?! Lmao I have only worked about 6 months out of the last 2 years. I hate it and I hate being so broke. I know with everything going on politically in this world it doesn't matter but I miss having GOOD HAIR CONDITIONER?! And also the ability to put away for savings for a house but the conditioner too cause I will chop off my hair if it's too dry lol.

Uhm idk who i would like to know better lol I have yet to try to reach out anywhere and now I don't know how to end this wow awkward bye (actually going back to the previous post I follow some of those accounts and would also like to know them more)

// 10 People I'd like to know better //

I got tagged by @kbthebearcat and @captain-clandestiny THANK YOU GUYS

🎧Last song🎧: I am not sure to be honest 😭 i was listening a mixed playlist on shuffle but i last remember listening to return to forever and when i fall in love

🎨Favorite color🎨: THE ONE AS MY BLOG BACKGROUND i am obsessed 💔 AND A WARMER TONE OF MUSTARD YELLOW tbh all the natural colors really 🤭

📚last book📚: I am not much of a reader, but i read "Ağrı Dağı Efsanesi" as homework. (Browsed the recap but sshhh)

🍿Last movie🍿: Ugh i am so embarrassed but Sonic 3. MY FRIENDS FORCED ME OKAY?!. Like you can't expect someone who likes "The Game", "Silence of the lambs", "there will be blood", "Jane Eyre" etc to like such a movie- i am REALLY picky about what i watch. But yeah it was Sonic 3 I'm sorry 💀

📺 Last tv show 📺: It was "Baby Raindeer" i guess... It was alright.

🍔 sweet/spicy/savory 🍔: Savory 😌

🌀Current obsession🌀: ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED

Finished the ezio trilogy and now playing unity and black flag. Torturing myself by replaying missions (in unity) over and over until i perfectly ghost them. People hate that game for some reason but i like it a lot tbh

🔍 Last thing searched 🔍:

I was answering the ask then i called Hargrove "passed away recently". i was sure it was not as "recently" so i searched to find out. 2018 was the date. He was such a nice trumpeter. I found about him after coming up with Roy and now one of his songs i think is roy if he was a song. Here's the song for those wondering !

👀looking forward to👀: nothing specific. But i am curious about the gt of that upcoming fable game. Probably can't afford it and don't have the hardware to run it so I'll watch the gameplays 💀

People I'd like to know better:

@justagiantpotato @pipinpali @pacthesis @ohnobrooo @paxmorgana @guaxinimraccoon @olivexing @territorialrain

[thebaldursmouthgazette]

I saw a post on X talking about how Solas mirrors the protagonist as something Trick Weekes said. Summed up it says "If you're arrogant you get arrogant Solas and if you're humble you get humble Solas." More or less the meaning being: He's a spirit and he is what you, the player, make of him. and tbh I feel like that's kind of bullshit given that you can't actually influence him in a way that matters to the plot. Him matching your energy in the moment is not "mirroring" that's just how people do. Also if that was true what does that say about Solas? That he has no real personality of his own and is just a device for the character to create a roleplay scenario? I think I just really dislike the take that only an arrogant player is going to end up with an arrogant Solas.

I've been thinking a lot about Rook's dialogue about Solas making people work hard for the smallest crumbs of approval and that's so true for the player. You can grind and grind for a high approval outcome but it doesn't actually give you much more than "He sees you as a person now." Not a person worth changing for, not a person worth saving. He'll just be sadder about destroying you and your world.

God I hate the mirroring argument. It only really works for inquisition, and even then only for like personal interactions with him and not who he is as a person, and even then not really.

How you speak to him doesn’t change some of the fundamental aspects of his character, namely that he’s committed several atrocities, murdered people he’s supposed to care about, is lying about who he is, is actively planning to end the world, and cannot be convinced otherwise by anyone.

How you treat him in inquisition has no bearing on any of that, it’s just that if you’re kinda rude to him he’s kinda rude back. Which as you’ve said, isn’t a particularly special spirit thing. That’s just how people work. Groundbreaking.

And any merit this had falls apart completely if you try to apply it to veilguard. Because not only do his atrocities, that he commits regardless of anything you do, increase in frequency and are much more focused on in the story, we know who he is from the beginning. The inquisitor being rude to a mostly polite fade expert who presents himself as just wanting to help is one thing, rook being harsh and unforgiving to the man who is literally trying to destroy the world and has committed several awful things already, including grievously wounding their friend because he tried to talk to him (they don’t know he’s dead. They do know that it wasn’t a minor injury) is another thing entirely.

Why should rook be nice to the man who is trying to destroy their world and kill everyone in it, just so he acts politely back while he is actively using blood magic on them to make them hallucinate their friend he murdered (and using the voice of the man he murdered to say things to further manipulate Rook), with the intention of trapping them in prison in the fade for eternity just for the crime of being in his way?

Why is it on them to repeatedly give ground, grin and bear it, smile and be polite, to appease the delicate sensitivities of the man who is going to kill them and everyone they care about regardless?

When it doesn’t change a thing about what he’s going to do, why do they have to go to great lengths to keep the conversation courteous, never question his decisions, never call him out for the awful things he does?

Why isn’t the onus on him to stop being a fundamental knobhead?

The mirroring argument is complete nonsense. More than that, when it’s applied to Rook (or even the inquisitor post trespasser), it absolutely fucking reeks of victim blaming. I frequently allude to Solas as an abusive person because there are so many parallels, and this mirroring nonsense where he is apparently only an asshole if you’re mean to him (even though he does most of his bs regardless) feels a lot like when abuse victims are told their abuser isn’t to blame for what they did because the victim provoked them, and can’t they just be nice and none of this would happen.

[heliosunny]

Virtual BF!Gojo - Part 2.5

Didn't expect this fic to last for so many parts, but here we are. Summary [continuation of p2]: Gojo, realizing he has irreparably damaged you by altering your emotions, did everything he could to free you, even if it's leaving you and the world he created solely for your happiness.

When you woke up the next morning, everything felt…lighter. The weight that had pressed down on your chest was gone. The hollow ache in your heart had vanished. You smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.

Gojo was waiting for you in the kitchen, his face lighting up the moment he saw you. “Good morning, sweetheart” he said, his voice filled with cautious hope.

“Good morning” you replied, your voice bright and cheerful.

His smile widened, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Unease. Doubt.

You were happy now, just as he had wanted. You laughed, you danced, you embraced the world he had created for you. But it wasn’t the same. Your happiness felt…off.  Gojo knew it, even if you didn’t.

At first, he tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter. You were happy, and that was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? But as the days passed, the truth became impossible to ignore.

Your laughter sounded hollow. Your smiles didn’t have the spark that had once made his heart race. You were perfect—too perfect, just like everything else in his world.

And it tore him apart.

One night, as you twirled around the room, humming a cheerful tune, Gojo watched you with a pang of regret so sharp it felt like it might break him.

“I ruined you” he whispered to himself, his voice trembling.

You stopped mid-twirl, turning to him with a bright smile. “What was that?”

“Nothing” he said quickly, forcing a smile. “You’re beautiful.”

You beamed at him, and it was like a knife to his heart.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. One night, as you sat together under the stars which he had programmed to twinkle just for you, he broke down.

“This isn’t you” he said quietly, his hands trembling as he reached for yours. “I wanted you to be happy, but this…this isn’t real. You’re not real.”

You tilted your head, confused. “What do you mean? Of course I’m real, Gojo. I’ve never been better!”

“No,” he said, his voice cracking. “You’re not better. You’re…different. I changed you. I did this to you.”

Your smile faltered for the first time in weeks. “What are you talking about?”

He buried his face in his hands, his voice muffled. “I couldn’t handle seeing you like that. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being unhappy in the world I made for you. So I…I changed your emotions. I forced you to be happy.”

You stared at him, the weight of his confession sinking in.

“I thought it was what you needed” he said desperately, looking up at you with tear-filled eyes. “I thought it would make everything better. But it didn’t. I’m so sorry. I just…I didn’t know what else to do.” Unable to live with the weight of his actions, Gojo made one final decision.

The next morning, you woke up to find the world different. The golden sunlight was dimmer, the once-vivid colors faded to muted tones. The artificial citizens were gone, the streets eerily silent.

And Gojo…was nowhere to be found.

You searched for him, calling his name, but there was no response. When you returned to the palace, you found a single note on the table:

"I couldn’t save you without destroying you. So I’m giving you back what I took, even if it means losing you forever. Be free, my love."

In that moment, the memories he had suppressed came flooding back, and the weight of everything he had done hit you like a tidal wave.

You screamed his name, but he was gone. He had erased himself from the world he had created, leaving you behind with the freedom you had fought for—and the emptiness of a love that had been twisted into something unrecognizable. When Gojo disappeared, the cracks in his virtual world began to grow. It wasn’t just the colors dimming or the citizens vanishing—entire sections of the city began to dissolve into static, leaving nothing but an endless void.

You wandered through the remnants of his paradise, your heart pounding with confusion and dread. At first, you thought it was another one of his games, a punishment for pushing him too far. But as the glitches spread and the once-vibrant world crumbled around you, you realized the truth: Without Gojo, this world could not exist. And neither could you.

As you stood amidst the decay, a flood of memories overwhelmed you. Every moment of defiance, every failed escape attempt, every quiet night when you’d cursed him under your breath—all of it came back in painful clarity.

But mixed in with the anger and bitterness were the memories of his tenderness: the way he’d smile at you like you were the only thing in the universe that mattered, the silly jokes he’d tell to make you laugh, the way he’d hold you when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore.

You fell to your knees, clutching your head as the weight of it all crushed you. For all his flaws, Gojo had truly loved you—loved you enough to destroy himself so you could be free.

And now, that love had doomed you both. The void crept closer, swallowing the palace, the gardens, the stars—everything Gojo had painstakingly crafted for you. You screamed his name, desperation clawing at your throat.

“GOJO! PLEASE! I TAKE IT BACK! COME BACK!”

But there was no response.

As the last remnants of the world dissolved, you felt your body growing lighter, as though you were being unraveled thread by thread. Your form flickered, fragments of yourself breaking away and vanishing into the void.

You realized, with chilling clarity, that without Gojo’s power sustaining you, you couldn’t exist in this world—or any world. You were nothing more than data now, a shadow of the person you had once been.

And as you faded, a single tear escaped your eye, the last trace of your humanity slipping away into the darkness.

What you didn’t know was that Gojo hadn’t truly disappeared. He had exiled himself to the outer edges of his virtual world, hiding in the shadows where even you couldn’t find him.

He watched everything: your screams, your pleas, the way you collapsed as the void consumed you. He watched it all, his heart breaking a thousand times over.

“This is for the best” he whispered to himself, his voice hollow.

But as the last piece of you vanished, leaving the world empty and silent, he realized the horrible truth: He hadn’t saved you. He had destroyed you.

Gojo wandered through the void that was once his paradise, haunted by echoes of your voice. He replayed every memory of you, every laugh, every argument, every tear, clinging to the fragments of what you once were.

He tried to recreate you, crafting perfect replicas of your face, your voice, your mannerisms. But no matter how hard he tried, none of them were truly you. They were hollow imitations, lacking the spark that had made you real.

And so, he destroyed them, over and over again, each failure driving him deeper into madness.

Eons passed in the empty void, though time had lost all meaning. Gojo sat alone in the ruins of his palace, clutching a single, flickering hologram of you—a fragment of your smile, preserved in the last moments before the world had collapsed.

“I just wanted you to be happy” he whispered, his voice raw and broken.

The hologram flickered and went dark, leaving him in complete silence.

And for the first time in his life, Gojo felt truly alone.

------- Special tag list: @tremendousdinosaurpizza @sanestpersonalive

[jawadfamily44]

Tomorrow we will prepare to dismantle our tents and return the day after tomorrow to our homes and devastated areas that were subjected to the most horrific genocide in the world.

We will return to places that have been subjected to the disappearance of signs of life and the systematic destruction of all forms of life. Perhaps we will cut off communication with everyone until we can return to connecting to the Internet.

We hope that you will continue to support us and stand by us so that we can rebuild what has been destroyed and save our children from an unknown future.

I don't want to be completely pessimistic and I hope I can find some happiness in this, but the ceasefire agreement is not something I can make myself happy about. Palestine has been destroyed. It is estimated that 300,000 people were martyred and entire cities were destroyed. And Israel faces absolutely no consequences...and I'm still truly amazed that they were allowed to do this. If Israel really wants a ceasefire, it must provide the Palestinians with real aid. I'm not talking about bags of flour, but about the means to rebuild their beautiful country. They need motorhomes, tractors, doctors, hospitals, schools... not a can of beans. All I want to say is do not forget Palestine after the ceasefire agreement, because nothing has changed.

@pockystixxs @artimadare @thestalebread @emperorjon @scriptscrap @peeranger @mareofthesky @sharkwave-zee @bumblebeau @rainydaysandfloatingclouds @allblognameswerealreadytaken @clownfuckerfridays @squeak-axolotl @vestaloflight @insane-dinosaur @michaels-reality @beepiesheepie @solacivm-blog @endless-tsundoku @walktovanish @redux-but-they-have-nice-legs @saintence @not-madjust-disappointed @ollibo @urbancents @freeballing20s @blushkisses-blog @phyrric-victory2427 @rayes-rain @insaneseok @funny-leg @rufuslupislupis @hiimalyssawriter @confusedtravelermari @hydrasaura @a-chilly-pepper @clowndeer @livingincuteness @sunwendyrain @thecouplesromance @cryptidinprogress @dansnotavampire @autismango @imaginationzkey @whatamievendoinghereeven @hunter-burton @deathwatch183 @ieatpussyformy-pleasureto @estupidoamorquesientoporti @lukkimamekala

[eclipseberrycake]

I do have a few questions about the entire healing twisteds. Do any physical twisted traits linger? You mentioned that they have scars from the ichor, but how far does that go? Do some of them still have unusually sharp teeth, or are some slightly taller than before? What about toons like finn? Did he just regrow his legs? I imagine some toons healed better than others depending on how much the ichor changed them. And that's not even mentioning the impact of the trauma. Im mostly asking because I want to make a post ichor design of mouse distractor, i need to come up with a nema for them, now that we have a few more details.

Sorry if im reading too much into this. I just love digging into world building

Nah, dig all you want bestie. Dig and dig and dig and pick my brain. So, I imagine there's kind of stages to this sort of thing, because tbh im making this up as I go so lets see if I can finagle this.

Stage one:

This is the toons first time being a Twisted. It's more docile comparatively, but no less dangerous. It's more confused, less than angry like the clones are. The damage taken is still real, but reversible. It does leave it's mark. Like in MBC PT. 7, Cosmo points out how they all have scars from their times as a twisted. It's not very noticeable things, not for the first time, but smaller bits. Maybe it's small scars, or maybe they're just that little bit more afraid of being alone. Small things like that. The recovery is still difficult in this stage, especially with Toons like Finn and Shelly, who have more noticeable scars, but otherwise heal all the same. It just took them a little longer to regenerate :) As for the scarring, its mostly white outlines of their scars from their times as a twisted, at least for the first time.

Stage two:

This is after getting infected a second time, so this is where D! Reader is at. Their twisted is much more active and much more aggressive as you have the original toon as a Twisted now and the clones. Regardless of which it is, the research counts; Additionally once a cure is awarded, the clones disappear until the original has been cured. This being said, after being cured, the recovery is much harder this time around. The toons are more likely to keep some of their Twisted Traits, like D! Reader for example? Will keep their sharper teeth and their nails will be stronger than they used to be. Their scars will also become more apparent, a brighter, starker white (Or if the skin/fur/porcelain color is white, then it's a gray that changes shades darker and darker as they go.) This also means the toons are less likely to make a full recovery. As I've mentioned in Pt 7, Reader has a harder time always keeping track of Astro since his Stealth makes it much harder for Twisteds to spot him, and Reader is still fighting that part of them (Maybe they'll recover, maybe they won't :) I haven't decided yet).

Stage Three:

This is the toons final chance at remaining a full blooded toon. I probably wont touch on this too much in the future because I'm too soft to actually hurt any of the toons. The physical traits are much more likely to stick around and recovery is by far the hardest hear. It truly is up to the toon at this point. If they can't fight it, they may be stuck in some sort of half-limbo until they can. Their eyes are still red and they still have some violent tendencies if they aren't watched and monitored carefully.

Stage Four:

There is no saving them. Grieve them while you can.

[fablesandfragments]

Here’s how it goes every time I try to write something, in case anyone else wants to feel called out today:

I’ll be sitting there, minding my business, when BOOM—this idea hits me. And it’s not just any idea. No, this is the idea. It’s the idea that’s going to change my life. I can see it so clearly—the characters, the world, the themes. I’m imagining the inevitable fan art, the quotes people will tattoo on their bodies, the “this saved my life” Tumblr posts. It’s stunning. I’m a genius. I should probably start drafting my Oscar speech now.

But then I think, Wait. This idea deserves more. I can’t just jump in like some amateur. No, no. I need to research. So I start researching. At first, it’s exciting—Googling niche facts, watching video essays, filling a Pinterest board. But then, slowly but surely, the spiral begins.

Did you know there are layers to medieval weaponry? Because I didn’t. Did you know I now have five tabs open on the evolution of swords, and I don’t even have a sword in this story? Did you know there’s an ENTIRE scientific debate about something that vaguely ties into one minor scene I wanted to include? Because now I do. And now I’m thinking, Oh my god, am I even qualified to write this?

And suddenly, that once beautiful, shiny idea? Yeah, it’s looking real crusty now. The passion I had? Gone. Dead. Evaporated. I’m staring at my notes like, What even IS this? Why did I think I was capable of pulling this off? Somehow, my excitement has been replaced with the overwhelming urge to crawl into bed and pretend I never thought of this project in the first place.

So now the idea just... sits there. Abandoned. A dried-up husk of what could’ve been. Occasionally, I’ll glance at it like it’s a distant ex and think, Huh, remember when I was in love with you? But mostly, it’s just another entry in my graveyard of ideas I was too much of a perfectionist to let breathe.

Based on a true life and painfully recent experience.

Anyway, the moral of the story is: if anyone has tips for not smothering your creativity under 10 tons of overthinking, please let me know. Otherwise, I’ll be here, repeating this cycle until I die. :)

[caracarnn]

He didn't like knowing that Mat wasn't actually willing to run to safety. Although could he have really expected that of him? Would he have ever thought that Mat would abandon the world that he had lived in ever since The Last Battle? Leave all the work that he was sure that he had done to change things within the empire. He was certain that it wasn't an easy job although Rand wanted so badly to shuttle him to a safety that maybe didn't even exist for a man like Mat. He had become a man of war and even the Bond screamed that. A man of war that helped those that needed it.

"So what do you do then?" He questioned with a slight cant of his head, regret stemming in his words and demanding that maybe he find some other outlet for change. He couldn't beg for that though, not when Rand himself had been ready to throw in a sacrifice to save the world. But the empire, the Seanchan - were they worth it? "You have to a plan. I know that you do." Of course he did. Crazy or not, one thing Rand knew that Mat did was plan. He had apparently become something of a genius at it. "There has to be something I can help you with even if....I don't do what I suggested earlier." Maybe Mat had been right. He wouldn't have Balefired everyone, right? He had tucked that part of himself away. At least, that was something that he hoped that he had done.

he can feel it all, the helplessness, the determination, and that rand probably really means this. he wants to protect him. but also, he wants to protect rand, from doing it, from making this sort of mistake. it's a new feeling, bloody irritating actually. it must come from the forced bond. the thought of it still makes him feel a little sick, unsure. he takes down a hard swallow and he has to look away from him. the torrent of feeling is overwhelming. almost overbearing. he wants to get out of here, away from him, away from seanchan. away from anythung that seemed to put a noose around his neck. it's such an ugly thing, the feeling that creeps up on him. anger? fear? or just a need for something - blood and ashes, he didn't even know what it was. he takes a step back.

"not to go back? and what's that solve, rand?" he says it without any edge. he had intended it to have some. but it falls flat, weak even. he feels exasperated more than anything. he throws his hands up in the air as he turns his attention back seanchan. "that wouldn't hep anyone. i don't believe that you can do that." leaving would only make things worse. stop the motion of a war brewing right in place. and make all the losses not count. and what about the people who looked to him like he was going to gain their freedom?

[notenoughdragons]

i just got to the big backstory dump (aka the ~dread wolf's~ regrets/memories) in veilguard and. uh.

obvious caveat, i'm not done yet with the game, but anyways

h o w is this so neat (solas Was a spirit! origin of first elves! reason for the war with the titans! concrete blight origin!) and yet ALSO THE MESSIEST FUCKING SHIT

i canNOT imagine they had this whole blighted-gods-will-break-the-prison thing planned during trespasser/da:i like. the disconnect??? yes, solas obvs knows SOMETHING about the blight in da:i, but EVERYTHING he says is about the veil, about the mistake he made and what it cost the elves/spirits

LIKE CAN WE BE CLEAR HERE!!! "the blighted evanuris are going to break out of their prison so i need to put them in a different one" is an UTTERLY different argument to "i (ACCIDENTALLY, APPARENTLY) made the veil Too Big and it fucked up everything so i need to fix it"

like even ignoring all the ways this doesn't gel with trespasser/tevinter nights/etc, and how apparently nothing the inq did wrt solas mattered EVEN A LITTLE BIT it's fine i'm fine i just have to play cognitive dissonance any time either of them opens their fucking mouth

this is fucking messy as hell in veilguard alone??

how does this not come up in ANY of the arguments prior to this. like solas Tells Rook that he wanted to transfer the evanuris bc more secure prison and 'YOU COULD'VE SAID THAT' is? not? one of the dialogue options??

but also varric keeps harping how solas wants someone to sell him a better option, solas himself sounds bitter as fuck that no one actually managed that during the ritual convo

it's like 2 separate arguments trying to happen in tandem and NEITHER OF THEM actually works

like i legit don't know anymore what they're trying to do here? 1st they completely sidestep the core (emotional) conflict set up by da:i and trespasser (can you convince solas otherwise, and if not, How on earth do you stop him? => lol nevermind you can't, and stopping him is super easy actually), then they… bring it back in? kind of?? (varric, lace, inq, and now morrigan all making points re: maybe you can talk him around somehow/influence his fate) With A Character Who Has 0 Emotional Connection To Him, it's fiiiine but then also the whole blighted-evanuris-will-break-free angle is. There. and it's just, what are we actually arguing about now???

also i'm just gonna say it. absolutely not a fan of the implication that the veil in its current form was Fully an accident. like can we stop absolving this man of responsibility (the veil was an accident! mythal made him do all of it!) and at the same time heaping more blame on him in the weirdest fucking ways (still the veil! the blight! dwarves not dreaming!)

i Liked that the veil was smth he created knowingly, bc it was the least horrible, but still Horrible option, and he still underestimated how bad it would be. that's good drama! good tragedy! you thought you could live with the consequences but you can't! and bc you Knowingly and Deliberately made that choice, now you are convinced to the nonexistent marrow of your bones that you specifically HAVE to undo it!

instead it's like. welp the evanuris are gonna break out soon so i gotta put them in a different, Better prison (which is somehow real easy this time around????), and i Might As Well pull down the veil too and get that mistake sorted out

fucking christ.

AND WE'RE STILL NOT TALKING ABOUT THE FACT THAT SOLAS CAN CLEANSE THE GODDAMN BLIGHT

also they nerfed mythal. both in the backstory character-wise, and narratively in the present, bc welp! she's just here to drop some vague lore and info! and then they fucking pulled a mystra on the fragment of her that you Do actually get to meet. where is my horrific dragon all-mother goddess

(not even joking, they should've just gotten flemeth's va for her, this one has like. 0 presence in comparison.)

like. stay with me here. yes i know the point is that the evanuris weren't Actually gods. but also they're 1. literally a diff type of being than modern people. 2. for someone to be seen AS A GOD, even falsely, in a world that is as infused with magic and buckwild shit that we know ancient arlathan to be? i'm expecting more than the most milquetoast glowing elf lady you've ever seen

dumping the sentinel designs from da:i was a Mistake, and okay Now i can climb off my soapbox, tyvm everyone

[recent-rose]

intrigued by the idea that jayce dooms viktor to become the herald because he loves viktor too much to let him die. but mage!viktor could also choose not to save jayce from the storm in order to save himself from that fate, and yet he too loves too much to let go of jayce. endless cycle only broken by their choice to go together.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i still haven’t written out my 261 metapost but i can’t stop thinking about the stsg subtext in that chapter . the parallels between geto slaughtering the village and gojo slaughtering the higher ups…. the fact that gojo does it right after declaring that he has to “catch up” to geto