#I LOVE HIS CHARACTERISATION

[starcollectorsilas]

something I feel like people miss while reading stormbringer is this line from the second chapter when Dazai and Verlaine met:

'Nevertheless, Dazai continued to slaughter his enemies and serve the Port Mafia in order to force himself into an even darker place.'

So, "why does Dazai stay in the mafia for so long?"

Because he wants to be in a bad place. He wants to commit these atrocities to further dehumanise himself. He wants to alienate himself and is determined to convince both himself and everyone around him that he is a terrible thing, the 'black wraith of the Port Mafia' who had no empathy or sense of humanity.

That's why he stays in the Mafia, that's why he works so hard in the Mafia, that's why he does what he's told. He's an automated killing machine capable of planning out and causing mass destruction, and his fuel is self-hatred.

He doesn't take pride in his 'accomplishments' in the mafia because, again, he doesn't actually want to succeed in the mafia, he wants to prove he's a bad person. He's not in the mafia to try and find a reason to live anymore, his reason for that is Chuuya, he's realised he's not going to find it in the mafia, even if he's not going to admit it until the dark era.

He probably feels a sense of guilt and disgust, but refuses to acknowledge it because he thinks that as something inhuman, he isn't meant to feel things like that, and the more he does, the further he removes himself from any sense of remorse, until he doesn't feel it any more, and probably still hasn't processed even in the ADA.

He stays in the mafia, and does the things he's told with such accuracy and deadliness because he thinks it's the only thing he can do, and he can use it to prove he's no longer human.

[torgawl]

sometimes i think about how crepus probably wasn't father of the year and i go a little insane. the way he pushed diluc into becoming a knight of favonious at such a young age; diluc receiving his vision so early in his life; how he saw his accomplishments as both his and his father's; crepus planning to gift or getting a delusion for his son despite his vision; and, the way diluc's namecard references him as crepus' creation, which is such an impersonal and cold way to put being someone's son. not only that but, again, referencing his strenght specifically. i'm not saying crepus was a bad father, diluc loved him dearly, but the projection he did of his own dream onto diluc's life and the efforts he went through to make sure diluc was "strong enough" doesn't appear to have been the healthiest thing.

we obviously have little to no information about diluc's relationship with his dad outside of a few mentions here and there but from his character story it just seems that even the praise crepus gave diluc was always because he did well in, somehow, living his father's dream and not necessarily because of who diluc was. it's a little bittersweet.

[lunarharp]

..polly pocket au.. (<- a type of doll.)

[apixrl]

i think about how tfp starscream saw a rabbit and thought it was a human at least once a day honestly

[randomness-is-my-order]

for me, two things that solidly disprove the “wei wuxian didn’t care for his own life and was okay with sacrificing it” notion is 1) how wei wuxian fights during the qiongqi path ambush and the nightless city massacre–when pitted against hundreds/thousands of people, wei wuxian doesn’t put their collective lives as inherently more worth than his own. if they attack him, with the intent to kill, he is completely okay with fighting with the clear intent to fatally harm because who can say that their lives are more important than his own and that he should restrain himself and not defend himself to his utmost capabilities? he doesn’t, at any point, surrender during these fights. he doesn’t want to die. not only because there are people dependent on his protection but also because he values his own life just as much as any cultivator trying to cut him down. i think people sometimes really underestimate how much wei wuxian wanted to continue living and live a fulfilling life at that, how brilliant was his ability to find meaning and happiness for himself, even if it was in a non-ideal situation. even when everything went to absolute shit, when wen qing and wen ning first told him of turning themselves in, wei wuxian’s first thought was not to take the fall–he still thought of clearing his name first and foremost and finding the actual culprit of the curse. asking that he should be the one going instead of them was again, a last resort.

and 2) the fact that wei wuxian was thrown into the burial mounds and came out alive shows his striking will to live over anything else. he SURVIVED. ironically enough, the fact that wei wuxian finally dies in the siege is a testament of how well and how long he fought for his continued survival rather than the opposite because there were ample opportunities before then where he could have succumbed through sheer lack of resolve to carry on but he didn’t.

that’s why despite the tragedies and the ups and downs and the countless close-calls, wei wuxian’s first life wasn’t really about his inevitable death but about his earnest and prolonged struggle to survive.

[eleu22]

please do dissect ghost!!

Ghost vs Simon

i would be absolutely delighted to !!!

ghost being… well ghost is a character who has been dissected from hell and back. I see so many people arguing about how to correctly characterise him and im here to tell you, you’re all wrong, only my opinion is correct (jk)

ok but in all seriousness - ghost is an incredibly interesting character and i think to do him justice we need to start at the beginning.

ghost had (as you all probably know) a rough upbringing. from his semi-absent abusive father to his mothers drug addiction, it was in no sense of the word an easy life. I think (poetically) simon was born a fire, he has from day 1 had to fend for himself, that’s all he knows.

ghost is two people, ghost and simon, both within one.

i think the way people tend to look at ghost is usually one of two things, one, that simon died in that coffin and ghost was born and the other is that, ghost is the cold blooded killer, simon the humanity within him.

and i don’t disagree with either

well not entirely,

i think yes, simon is the humanity within ghost

and though we only see this in glimpses- it is there, like when in the alone mission he told Soap stupid jokes to stop him from freaking out or when he as a sign of trust revealed his face to his team

i think simon is the human within ghost, who desires connection, love, camaraderie and life as much as we all do

but i don’t think ghost is this separate side to him, the killer we see in the games, i dont think simons dead either (even if that is what ghost himself thinks) i think the cold nature of ghost is the leash

and humanity isn’t kind, simon is the one who desires vengance, hes the one who dug his way out of that coffin- not ghost, hes the one who refuses to die- that innate, human, primal desire to survive.

like a caged animal backed into a corner, a corner he’s been in his whole life

i dont think ghost or simon in any sense enjoys what he does- it’s made clear through his voice-lines in multiplayer

but i think this quote sums it up quite well

ghost is simply the muzzle simon wears, the mask to cover the shaking dog inside of him.

because ghost knows this better than anyone, humans are animals and with desire comes blood

and simon will cut you if he has to, he will dig himself out of that coffin

again

and again

because simon simply refuses to die

but that’s what makes him such a good soldier, an unrelenting, loyal, dog. but no matter who it is, if you hit, he will bite.

[liyrical]

i love my wife. he is so cute

[noble-atomics-railway]

11- Fauna - prompt from @tornadoyoungiron

This one had to be another Henry drawing. He loves the animals of Sodor just as much as he loves the plant life.

<Prev | Next>

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Asunder

slow-paced high fantasy

a woman who has a contract with an eldritch entity allowing her to see the dead & survives by taking various jobs

when a job searching for stranded smugglers in a cave goes wrong, she ends up with the soul of a dying stranger bound to her shadow

along with a scholar and her old childhood friend, they travel to his home country to find a way to unbind him and save them both

dark fantasy world with gods, demonic entities, arcane magic, and semi-sentient beasts used as transport

[m0thlegs]

maybe the real Viktor arcane season 2 character arc were the friends we made along the way

[scruncheduppaper]

not to fandom meta tweet twice in one night but i hope hakita releases treachery soon because SOME of you guys have lost sight on gabriel’s character almost completely like this is unreal. like i think you guys just completely forgot what made him appealing in the first place and just started making shit up on your own

i guess this is more of a symptom of fandom drought more than anything LMFAO… technically we havent gotten any new information or lore about gabriel since act 2 was released and that was years ago so i guess i shouldnt be surprised

anyways dont forget that gabriel killed the entire council with his own bare hands and cut the head off one of them as proof for the Entire Angel Population to see. and conversely the fact that he was regarded as one of the most popular and well beloved angels due to his radiant personality beforehand, his kindness towards the ferrymen, his genuine blind belief in justice and devotion to god

gabriel is the story protagonist of ultrakill

[notacluedo]

Teenage war criminal #2 Pyrrhus

[doodlejoltik]

grass knot

[~4.5k words, read it here or on Ao3. tagged with Volo and Lance since they appear as prominent characters; Rei-centric]

Why is it that even the thought of confiding in Akari, his closest friend, makes something constrict in his chest, choking out the words?

Rei, caught in the stirrings of a new arc, tries to rise to its call, but trips over the past at every turn.

A full rewrite of that Mysterious Stones chapter where Volo first shows up, from Rei’s POV, plus a bit more. Written mostly before the Arceus Arc began.

(Setting expectations: a lot of this fic is just Rei Thinking About Stuff haha. Love getting into his head! His characterisation is a little bit different/more nuanced compared to the other Rei oneshot I wrote; hopefully you'll still be along for the ride if you've read that one!)

-

“Show me thy bond.” It echoes inside Rei’s skull, down to the very bone, the same as in his earliest memories. He nearly buckles under its weight, but it's a welcome feeling.

After so long without direction, this is a relief. Arceus has finally spoken.

The words fit perfectly with the half-remembered fragments Rei had received some weeks ago in the middle of the night. Why hadn't they been intelligible then? What makes now different? The sync stones ultimate are one factor, of course. Maybe Arceus draws power from them, which is strange to say of a deity, but from what he knows of the Plates, it might not be so far-fetched.

Prince Lear disperses the murmuring crowd; so, the audience all heard it too, not just those on the arena floor. Professor Bellis congratulates Bettie. Cynthia, Lance and Steven whisper among themselves. And his mind still whirls with new theories as they gather together.

What does Arceus want? 

‘Seek out all Pokemon’ had meant completing the Pokedex. At least, that’s what he’d assumed. Now, this time, Arceus likely means for them to showcase bonds with their Pokemon, given the context. But what does that actually entail?

Cynthia’s words cut above everyone else's. “Rei. Was that voice…?”

All eyes are on him. He breathes deeply, steeling himself, as the familiar weight of it settles in. Things are moving, now. 

“Yes. I'm certain. That was —”

“Indeed! That was a message from Arceus!”

His words catch in his throat. Off-balance, suddenly, as all his thoughts fall away, replaced by a swooping feeling he can't quite identify —

He whirls around.

Volo is here.

He takes a few steps back, an involuntary half-stumble, before remembering himself. 

Those flashes of movement he's been seeing, the feeling of being watched, a Togepi, unattended: they’re all now terrifyingly validated. He'd half thought them a product of his overactive mind.

“Excuse-moi, pardon me… but who are you?” Professor Bellis ventures. 

“I'm Volo — a humble merchant who loves history and mythology!” With that, he flashes a winning smile. Rei could laugh at the sheer audacity of it all, but his thoughts are still strewn across the dusty ground, scattered, and they slip from his grasp as he tries to gather them up. Whatever sense of gravity he’d felt upon hearing Arceus’ voice has completely lifted.

“But more importantly!” Volo continues. “When the arena shone brightly, I also heard that voice.” He brings his hand up to point at the air with enthusiastic emphasis, a gesture still so terribly familiar. Rei clenches his fists, feeling the nails dig into his skin. Not really out of anger. More as a reminder.

The last time he’d seen Volo had been. Well. Memorable. But that isn’t the image that smiles back at him now, tripping him up. He's in Gingko uniform again, complete with ridiculous oversized backpack, which Rei had thought discarded, up there on the peak. Apparently not. Had Volo returned later, still seething, to collect his things? The concept is strangely hilarious.

“I wonder… these sync stones ultimate… might they be some sort of test from Arceus? If we could show him that ‘bond’ he desires —”

“Sorry, test? Arceus?” Cynthia interrupts with a frown, holding a hand out. “What makes you say that?”

“Why, it's quite simple. Arceus' presence was summoned by these stones, in this exhibition, and he requests us to further show our bond. What else could he desire?” Volo says, gesturing widely. 

Rei finally pulls himself upright — scrapes his thoughts together into something resembling coherence. The initial shock has drained away, settling into a distant sort of apprehension. He watches silently. Volo’s not really saying anything too unreasonable, but where is this leading? 

There’s so much he doesn’t know. What has Volo been doing, all this time? How long has he been on Pasio? What does he hope to gain, approaching them like this?

He’ll let Volo continue, then. It's an opportunity for some of those questions to be answered.

(And it gives Rei time to think of what to say.)

“Well, put that way, that does make sense,” Steven nods along. “Should we organise for more trainers to try the stones, then?” 

“Oui, I would love to gather more data!” Professor Bellis answers. “However, the stones are still quite volatile. There is progress on this, yes, but for now, I would like to limit their use, capisci?” 

At this, Bettie speaks up. “Yeah, it was weird.” She runs a hand through her Pikachu’s fur, the mouse curled up lazily in her arms. Nobody in Hisui was quite that affectionate with their Pokemon. Certainly not Akari, though she'd grown closer with her own Pikachu over time. As for himself, Decidueye had been standoffish, averse to being carried even as a baby Rowlet. Well, actually — as his distracted mind digs deeper into memory, he recalls — there had been Volo and his Togepi. 

He casts that errant thought away, buries it deep once again. Bettie is still speaking.

“And it was like nothing was there, at first, and Pikachu and I had to concentrate really hard. And then — whoosh! Wow! Overwhelming,” she shifts Pikachu’s weight to one arm to gesture with emphasis, “and all at once.”

“And this is when Arceus spoke,” Lance asks. 

Bettie nods, now subdued. “It was a rush! I think you guys could handle it, but I dunno if everyone could.”

“If I may,” and all attention returns to Volo. “It seems the stones can currently be used by trainers with particularly powerful convictions, and bonds with their Pokemon,” he gestures with a smile to Bettie. She blushes. 

At the casual flattery, Rei can't help the small frown that twists onto his face. It seems innocent enough, but compliments and niceties can so easily mask true intent. 

Especially with Volo.

Volo continues. “Perhaps we might solve this by way of a tournament, of sorts. Allowing Arceus to witness our talent and dedication, with the victor bestowed the honour of using the stones! Of course, the winner of such a competition would have the fortitude necessary to handle such power.”

Well, taking that to its logical end… Volo wants to win, and be granted this ‘honour’ he so conveniently proposed. But why go to all this trouble? The stones appear out in the streets quite often — apparently, found even by preschoolers. Volo should have no trouble obtaining them.

Does he know something they don't?

“Bettie here led the first winning PML team, did she not?” At this, the girl in question smiles Mareepishly. “And that is why she was the one to demonstrate the stones, I presume,” Volo inclines his head towards the Champions.

Informed guess, or something more? He thinks back on half-seen, furtive movements, and wonders. 

“That's right,” Steven confirms. “Bettie is a shining example to us: a leader of the next generation. We decided there was no better choice.” 

“So you suggest we hold another tournament,” Lance says thoughtfully. “Well, there is precedent. Prince Lear,” he turns to the Prince, whom Rei had honestly half forgotten was there. “What do you think?”

Before Lear can reply, Volo reinserts himself into the conversation. “It would be a grand tournament, truly fitting of Pasio's reputation. Why, perhaps, the deity Arceus might even be compelled to descend —”

Ah. So that’s what he intends. “Aren't you getting ahead of yourself there?” Rei interrupts. He means to sound stern, but it comes out sounding more incredulous. Not at the idea itself, but at how brazenly it’s admitted.

“Perhaps,” Volo says with a careless shrug. He doesn’t acknowledge Rei any differently than the others, still maintaining their inadvertently shared ruse. “It's only speculation, of course, but it is exciting to think about!”

“Hmph! I believe I was the one being addressed,” Prince Lear declares, arms crossed. His red shades flash dangerously, eyes hidden under their glint. Directed at him, it's almost like the full glare of an Alpha Pokemon.

Rei’s face flushes with heat to the tips of his ears. Great time he picked to enter the discussion. He quietly ducks his head down; the Prince is in charge, here, after all. He'd rather not test his patience. 

Meanwhile, Volo just smiles, seemingly unfazed. 

There's a part of him that really wants to know how Volo does that. It's just — he's so confident. How can he be so sure that everything will work out in his favour?

“A grand tournament,” Prince Lear ponders, tapping his foot. “And what could be grander than the second Pokemon Masters League?”

“Indeed!” Volo beams. “I'm sure the audience would love to see the clash between a king and a deity, would they not?”

Lear's tapping stills. His guarded stance loosens; he's taken aback. Volo emphasised king, and oh, Lear's official title is Prince. Hm.

There's something more deliberate about it beyond just casual flattery. 

Lear uncrosses his arms and seems at a loss, for a moment, on where to put them before straightening up with his hands on hips. “Is that so?” He laughs. “I like the sound of that!” A pause, unnecessarily dramatic. Nobody breaks the silence, not even Volo. 

The Prince looks around with some satisfaction and continues. “Very well, then. The winning team of the second PML will be granted the honour of using the sync stones ultimate.” He grins, sharply, red shades flashing once again. “Which will include me, of course. Hahahahaha!”

“You have a real gift for making quick decisions!” Volo says cheerfully. The tension breaks. Chuckles arise from the rest of the group, and Rei can only stare in disbelief. That — that has to be mockery, right? But everyone else seems to take it as light teasing, even the quick-tempered Prince himself. 

Against his better judgement, his gaze catches Volo’s. 

He doesn't know what he expects to see: amusement? Satisfaction? Triumph? And there's some of that, but it's a wry, knowing sort of look, like a joke shared only between the two of them. 

Already the others are starting to animatedly discuss between themselves. Bettie makes a teasing comment to Lear, who scoffs. Professor Bellis says something about checking in on the sync stone technology. Cynthia, Lance and Steven form their own little group again, speaking in low tones, and he can't quite follow their discussion. 

It seems like he's the only one who notices Volo quietly slipping away, and he's got half a mind to do the same. 

Would it be incredibly ill-advised to follow him? Probably. But he still has questions. And it’s possible that Volo will let his guard down when they're alone. 

(Even to him, that seems incredibly optimistic. But there’s things between them that he himself would rather only unearth in private. Maybe Volo feels the same way. And even if not, perhaps he'll gloat, or tease playfully, and let on something of use hidden in the thorned barbs.)

It's not like he has much left to contribute here. Tournaments and competitions and organised displays are foreign to him. The Neo Champion Stadium had felt so different from the kind of battles he’s used to… which, in part, could be why he lost. 

He needs to train. If everything rests on the result of this tournament, he has to be ready. 

The group seems to be naturally dispersing, at least — Professor Bellis just excused herself — so he won't be missed. With some quick words, he, too, turns to leave. They can handle this part, and Rei will do his. 

Prince Lear had mentioned a winning team, and Pasio battles are generally three on three, from what he's seen. Who could he ask? There's Akari, of course. And the clan leaders, but it would feel strange to team up with only one and not the other. A little bit too reminiscent of another time. 

His steps carry him nearly to the edge of the arena.

Besides, he's getting ahead of himself. He still has to… well, he should explain everything to them. About Volo.

Even all these months later, it still aches. He had buried it all, hoping to let it rot away, to be free of that thorny mass of contradictory feelings that arose every time he dwelled on it. 

But the longer he waits, the more impossible it seems to explain — to explain not only the events of that fateful day, but also his own, confusing silence on the matter. Though he’s tried to plough the field, turn it all over and start anew, it still lies just beyond the surface, and a single misstep is all it takes to snarl him all over again. Why is it that even the thought of confiding in Akari, his closest friend, makes something constrict in his chest, choking out the words?

(Akari is unquestionably the one person he's closest to. But there was a time when that singular title wasn't so clear cut.)

There’s a sort of tunnel that leads out of the stadium, a long darkened archway that passes under the audience stands. He's about halfway through when he hears footsteps from behind, swift and purposeful strides. 

His breath catches, for a moment. But Volo left first, and the arena had been flat and wide, with no corners to lurk in. Besides, it's too loud. Clearly telegraphed.

Cynthia, maybe? 

He turns. The face that greets Rei is slightly less familiar. “Lance,” he acknowledges the Champion. 

“Rei,” Lance greets in turn, stopping a few paces away. Arms crossed, silhouetted against the light of the arena and framed by the tunnel’s dark, arching walls, his tall figure is — intimidating. 

He can’t help but wonder whether that's deliberate. 

“You left before I could ask,” Lance says, and there's a pause. “As someone who has prior experience with Arceus, what do you think of all this?”

A fair enough question. But the way it's said… sounds a little too carefully worded. Casual, but purposefully so.

What sort of answer does Lance expect? 

“It sounds reasonable enough,” he decides to say. As much as he hates to lend credence to Volo’s proposal, he can't think of anything better. It somehow seems to suit their needs perfectly, which he's sure is no accident. “Back in Hisui, I was told to seek out all Pokemon, so I helped with the Pokedex. In the same way, I guess this could help fulfil Arceus' new request.”

Lance nods along, but his brows furrow. “You sounded more sceptical, earlier,” he points out. 

Ah. Not really his intent, but… “That was about the more…” he casts about for the right word, “speculative part of it. I don't know if it would really call Arceus down, or anything like that.” Though honestly, he doesn't know that it won't.

“What do you think will happen, then?” Lance asks, with clear curiosity, and, well. He doesn't really have a good answer to that. 

“... I don't know,” he admits. “I never actually completed the Pokedex, so I'm not sure what happens after Arceus’ request is fulfilled.” He had been close, but there had still been so many minor tasks that needed finishing, things to busy himself with, to arrange and get in order before he had to face Giratina again. 

He hadn't been ready, yet. Maybe Arceus had grown impatient, and brought him here to confront his problems directly. Maybe it cared. Maybe it didn't. 

(Seeing Giratina with Cynthia had felt a little like he was the punchline of some divine comedy.)

Lance purses his lips and looks off into the distance, out of the stadium, past Rei. He wishes he could read the man’s expressions better; as it is, the set of his brows calls to mind Kamado, and everything else tangled up with it. 

Finally, Lance’s gaze turns directly to Rei once again, and he speaks. “That Volo… you two know each other.” 

It’s not a question, but even then, the expression of unguarded surprise he can’t hold back might be answer enough.

Lance has one hand on his hip, the other, at rest, is framed by the drape of his cape. He looks down at Rei as he states plainly, “His clothes aren’t of modern make, so the logical assumption would be that he’s from Hisui. Cynthia confirmed my suspicion. And, historically, Hisuian communities were few and quite tightly knit. It’s more likely than not.” 

He tries to keep his expression carefully neutral, as logic digs deeper, dangerously close to things unexplainable. And the earth is already recently disturbed, soft, friable. He can’t offer much resistance. “I've seen him around,” he concedes.

“But why did neither of you acknowledge the other?” Lance looks confused; frustrated, even. “Even a passing acquaintance would be notable, with both of you being here in the future.”

And here — this is familiar. The accusations. The questions he can’t answer. But it’s different; it’s not that he doesn’t know the answers. He just can’t seem to put them in an order that would make sense, to anyone else.

(Does he really understand, himself?)

But eyes are on him, and he needs to explain, in whatever unsatisfactory way he can. “Volo and I… it's complicated,” he laughs weakly, tugging at his scarf. “He genuinely does love history and mythology, you know. I guess I wouldn't be that surprised if he was right about Arceus.” All those times they’d pored over ruins together, Volo excitedly babbling on about whatever legend this one related to — there had to have been the seed of something real, something genuine, in that. 

It’s not really an answer. Lance can obviously tell, because he crosses his arms. 

“Is he bad news?” he asks bluntly. 

There’s no twisting his way out of this one.

Some of the panic he’s feeling must bubble up onto his face, because Lance’s expression softens, just a bit. The man sighs. “Look, Rei, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but us Champions need to have all the relevant information. This tournament, the stones,” he gestures around them, “affect everyone here on Pasio. So I’m sorry about involving myself in your business, but it's necessary. Should we be keeping an eye on Volo?” 

It’s obvious what the correct answer is. And every second he delays responding makes him seem all the more untrustworthy. He questions, a little hysterically, why this of all things is what he stubbornly roots himself for, risking this place he’s made for himself in another unfamiliar land. 

But his jaw works, and all that slips out of his throat, past the thorny tangle, is a “Maybe.” The most ground he can concede. “Volo’s… passionate about Arceus.” Which is perhaps the biggest understatement of both this century and the last. 

There's an expectant pause. He almost leaves it at that, but it seems it's too unfinished a sentiment for Lance. “He wants to be seen by it.”

“The same way you are?” Lance says sharply. Arceus, he picked up on that fast. Rei hopes he leaves it at that. A rivalry fallen apart, twisted into bitterness and jealousy, nothing more.

Nothing world-ending. 

It’s not like he doesn’t trust Cynthia, and by extension the other Champions. It’s just… he can deal with it himself. It’s what he was probably brought here to do, anyway. The thought of someone else turning him over, and finding him lacking — fighting his battles for him — makes him uneasy. 

“Yeah, something like that,” he answers, with a painful swallow. 

Besides, he hopes he can resolve this peacefully. He’d beaten Volo before, even after he’d flipped the rules of battle on their head. And this time Volo can’t upend the script; one good thing about tournaments, he supposes, is that the rules are rigorously upheld. A different sort of battleground.

He wants to laugh at that. Suppositions and wildly optimistic thoughts are his only foundation, and yet it’s enough for him to reject all possibility of outside help.

Then again, if he can’t even bring himself to tell Akari, what chance does he have of breaking that self-imposed silence, here, on less familiar ground?

Lance hums, assessing this. He uncrosses his arms. “If that friend of yours does anything drastic, tell us, alright?” he says. It’s said warmly, but there's something serious to it. An undertone. “Our job is to help out wherever we can, so don’t hesitate to reach out.”

Rei tries for a smile. “Understood.”  

Lance nods, and looks Rei up and down, though it's only a subtle flicker of his eyes. His gaze lingers on the scarf at Rei’s neck, which Rei realises he’s been fidgeting with unconsciously. He lets go with faint embarrassment, feeling caught out. 

The other man sighs. “You can go, you know?” There’s resignation in his voice. Maybe even something apologetic. In that moment, he seems more like Kamado than ever.

Rei doesn’t want to turn his back to him, but he wants to be here even less. So he nods, stiffly, and turns himself around, continuing the dark walk through the tunnel and out the stadium at a steady pace.

He doesn’t run.  

(But his hand hovers by his satchel, where Decidueye's Pokeball rests.)

It’s only when he’s walked for a good while, out into the harsh sunlight, through the town outskirts and to a more forested spot, that the tension drains from him. He sits at the base of a large tree, feeling a little lightheaded.

That was… an interrogation, to put it bluntly. And he can’t really fault Lance for it. To anyone, he's sure, his actions are confusing at best.

Unfortunately, he’s found that he’s less than clear headed when it comes to Volo. He turns over Lance’s final words. That friend of yours. It’s not surprising Lance phrased it that way; everything Rei had said had been carefully woven to lead him to that conclusion.

Except it hadn’t been misdirection, not fully. He does still think of Volo as his friend, despite everything.

He slumps backwards, against the trunk of the tree, feeling the rough bark dig against the base of his skull. 

What is he supposed to do with that?

Apparently, one of the worst days of his life isn’t enough to uproot over a year of growing camaraderie and budding friendship. Too many memories knot together, a stubborn tangle impossible to pick apart. He’s tried not to think about them too hard, but they tighten their hold once again, from where they lay dormant and buried.

Many of them have been forcibly recontextualised. He’s second guessed every helpful gift, every directly admiring word, every coincidental and fortunate appearance, as something deliberate and cultivated. But some of it, it seems, doesn't fit so neatly with that singular goal.

One day, they’d watched Togepi use Metronome for an hour, ostensibly for Rei’s surveying purposes. Important documentation of a seemingly random phenomenon, and all that. In actuality, they laughed the entire time, with no useful or coherent records to speak of, as the results became all the more improbable. 

They’d camped together, those last months, as the search for the Plates got wilder and more exciting. He knows Volo’s favoured way to build a camp-fire, and how he wakes up unreasonably early in the morning, and that he prefers sweet foods over savoury, unlike Rei himself. A hundred mundane familiarities shared, taking root in fallow ground.

Once, Volo had been his only friend in the entire world.

Is it surprising, then, that he can’t lay this friendship to rest so easily?

He wonders what it means, that the hand offered to him at his lowest point was the same one that always meant to drag him back down. And what it means that he still wants to reach for it.

Had any real feelings been sowed there, on Volo’s part? Or was the entire thing a carefully constructed weaving, an intricate field of grass knots laid around Rei, ready to catch him in their snare? 

He can’t quite strangle the hope that something of their friendship still exists, even if neglected and overgrown. And that’s the part that scares him.

He has Akari, and Adaman, and Irida. He has Professor Laventon and the Captain, though they’re far away. Then there’s the Wardens, more friendly faces: Mai, Sabi, Ingo, and all the others; there's Zisu and Pesselle and Beauregard and everyone else in Jubilife. New friends here on Pasio, too. 

He pulls out Decidueye’s Pokeball from his satchel, and rolls it around in his right hand. He has his beloved Starter.

He has friends. He has bonds.

Why can’t that be enough?

The Pokeball he’s holding isn't the original. He'd had to break that well-loved possession in two, and recapture Decidueye in this modern device. It's a distant echo of its predecessor, wooden grooves and clunky iron replaced by smooth metal and near imperceptible seams. The weight of it is all wrong. 

But despite that, it's still his partner, and that's what matters.

(The two broken halves sit in his satchel, too, carried on his person at all times. It's yet another thing he can't bring himself to let go of.)

He sighs, tracing formless shapes in the dirt. His hand finds one of the sparse clumps of grass that grow here, directly under this wide and mighty tree. Deprived of proper sun, it’s a miracle that there’s any at all. 

It seems more and more likely that he’ll end up looking for Volo on his own. To get answers: not only about the stones, and the tournament, and Volo’s intentions with Arceus, but also for his own ends. 

Maybe there’s still something there. A single glimpse of life in this scorched earth between them.

He doesn’t know what he’ll do then.

Where he sits, what little grass there is has grown long and ragged, as their leaves stretch and reach for the sun. He sets Decidueye’s ball down and plucks two long blades. With a few simple loops and twists, they’re deftly woven together into a knot. He considers it, looping it around his fingers; tightens it, pulling on both ends, until he can feel the entire construct threaten to snap from the force. He stops. 

The thing is, no matter if it was never meant to be real, deliberately sowed, intended ultimately for harvest — it’s all the same, to Rei. He wants to keep it alive. He’s hopeful. Naive. Selfish.

For a single, impossible moment, he wonders whether this is what Arceus meant by bonds all along. 

The knot goes in his satchel, where it will turn dry and brittle with time. But kept safe, unbroken, regardless. Maybe his future self will laugh at his sentimentality. Maybe, he won't remember why it’s there. 

Wouldn't that be for the best?

He tucks Decidueye’s ball away, with care, then hauls himself up, both hands braced against the dusty ground. There’s dirt under his fingernails. From under the tree’s darkened canopy, he squints into the afternoon sunlight.

There’s a lot that needs to be done. He needs to train for this tournament, for one. Learn more about modern battling. Pull together a team. With that, ask Akari, and perhaps Adaman or Irida. Confront Volo, somewhere in all of this. 

After that? Only Arceus knows.

One step at a time. 

He finds his footing, around gnarled roots. The grass crunches underfoot. And he steps into the light.

(So maybe I was just snared by the grass knots you laid in my path. But if I wove my own, would you fall for it too?)

[s0fter-sin]

i love that they made morph non binary, obviously it makes sense for a born shapeshifter to have no innate sense of gender but it also means they gave mr “manly man smokes cigars and only drinks beer” wolverine a non binary best friend

[multimix101]

AvA/M Criminal AU Ideas

Akin to an insane AU, but not completely - uhhhhh yeah

uhhhh so this was just me vomitting ideas for a bit on my Criminal AU I haven't fully finished the concept but I think it's worth sharing so, uh- TAKE. *yeets this at your face*

Our friendly stick figures are wanted criminals and live life on the edge in StickCity.

RocketCorp is still an elusive presence - run by Victim - but they’re working with the city’s police - run by Mango (Purple as a right-hand) - to apprehend Chosen and Dark (and, later, the CG as well).

Chosen & Dark and the CG are seen as different… uh… criminal groups (do different jobs, go out at different times, have different motifs, etc), but they’re in alliance and live close together (the CG became their own “criminal group” (help idk what to call it) after a while of living with Chosen and Dark - the two groups live near each other and visit often)

About a year and a half after the events of AvA 4 (the CG does discover the minecraft block and they get through S1 & 2 of their adventures BUT THEY NEVER MEET PURPLE), Alan’s computer has a major malfunction and begins shutting down itself and his accounts. He’s able to upload the CGs’ files to the cloud just before the PC breaks, saving them. Alan and the CG are unable to contact each other, even if he gets a different computer, because his program/account was the thing that broke. If he got a new program/account, it would be impossible to communicate which one let alone find him among the billions of others. (maybe Sec can have trauma flashbacks to Alan and them locking eyes, Alan smiling weakly, before the computer shuts down to help explain this)

The CG doesn’t have anywhere to go, and they eventually find Dark and Chosen. They get exhilaration and satisfaction in helping the hollowhead brothers with their crime sprees, so they join them.

Gold, instead of dying to minecraft, dies in a fire caused by Dark and Chosen. Mango blames them for Gold’s death, and vows to apprehend the two of them and/or get revenge (he wants them alive so he can have a chat with them first either way)

Purple was already working as the secretary to the chief of police (cause Navy used to work there and they wanted him to be happy that they were  - it doesn’t work lmao but the people in the department realise how bright Purple is and they’re widely respected). Mango was the deputy chief until the former chief stepped down and he was promoted to chief of police. He was sought out by Victim (cause Vic heard about his determination on Cho and Dark), and they both agreed to work together trying to take down the two. He then spoke to the police commissioner/superintendent, and - with some assistance from Victim - got permission to direct the forces of his department entirely to catching the two criminals. Hearing about Purple’s capability, he hired them as a right-hand (assistant chief, ig?). (Purple does have the skills for being a police officer - along with them already being in the force for many years and being a natural leader, they learnt fighting from Navy and taught themselves admin & problem solving cause they had to run their own life for a while ;v;)

Mango is using Purple like he did in AvM, but gradually, subconsciously warms up to and cares about them. GRADUALLY. He tries to tell himself that he doesn’t think about them that way and that they’re just- idk, a tool- but his arc is eventually accepting them as a child figure and coming to peace with Gold’s death. (later in his arc, Mango notices Purple fell asleep at their desk, and puts a blanket over them :>)

Purple and Mango found out about the CG while the two were investigating Chosen and Dark. While their focus was still on the twins, Purple got more invested in finding out about their accomplices. Soon, they clashed regularly, and Purple told Mango they believed that capturing the colour gang could be the key to capturing Cho and Dark.

Uhhhh- I’m going to make some of them feminine or at least not masculine cause I don’t want Purple and Primal to be the only sticks that aren't boys. Also writing a group of people with the same pronouns sucks.

Blue is feminine, while Second, Dark and Victim are non-binary. There. (ahem side note in my aus stick figures don't have genitals and aren't born with a sex, but instead a gender- uhhhh there's more to explain ask me if you're curious)

This AU is primarily centred around the forbidden romance between Green and Purple (cough cough grapeduo based fic let's go), and I mainly imagine scenes where they're fighting and Green is just insane, elusive and enthusiastic while Purple is angry asf, serious and yet struggling because they're constrained by their oath and moral codes and cause they keep getting diStrActED

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh CHARACTER EXPLANATION TIME (I've only done the colour gang + purple's at this point ;v;)

Name: Green Nickname: N/A Code name: Siren Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Bi Age: 16 Green fights with guns, close-combat or with weapons like swords, though prefers the guns option (he’s alright at archery but, again, prefers guns). His main gimmick is the use of music. He can cause distractions with it, break opponents’ eardrums in fights, calm down/inspire his friends… though he also likes just having fun with it and teasing opponents by dancing through the fight. He’s known for being almost concerningly loyal, and the others often have to stop him from getting himself killed/deeply wounded in the process of protecting them. He, Red and Dark are the cocky (Red less so) pranksters that keep the group lively. Oh yeah - also, he ADORES pets. Dog, cat, bird, fish, rabbit, lizard- fuckin- PTERODACTYL- he doesn’t care. Any and all pets in his sight will be patted to hell and back.

Quotes:

“Eyes on the target, B! /t […] I SAID THE TARGET NOT MY FACE-” “Oh, dude, you’re on!” “We’re all here to support you, alright? Don’t ever forget that.” “Go! I’ll distract them. […] (rose in his mouth) You like jazz? /j ” “Sloppy… uncontrolled… slow… seriously, officer - it’s like you’re not even trying! /t ” “Nah, you love me~ /t ” 

Name: Red Nickname: N/A Code name: Zookeeper Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Straight Age: 14 Red trains and can summon animals like tigers, falcons, etc and fights close-combat with giant metal claws (he’s alright with weapons like swords, and shit with long-range). He’s known for gaining allies in unusual places and is the go-to for emergency backup. He’s the youngest out of the whole cast, and sometimes uses that as a guilt-trip tactic both on his friends and enemies (he gets the “youngest sibling treatment” from Second lmao - can never get in trouble for anything). #Gremlin4Life - he and Ballista would vibe so much if they weren’t opponents >:D (they still do vibe but they see each other as like “aw hell yeah I get to fight this guy again” cause they’re both super hyper).

Quotes:

“Wassup BITCHES-” “Aww~ Sec, look! Amber’s kitten is so adorable!” “But why can’t I ? /whine […] You’re no fun… (pout)” “HahA! Got you!! (Fortnite dances)” “Jail, huh? Gotta catch me first~” “(whistles) GET ‘EM, BOYS-”

Name: Blue Nickname: B (Bee) Code name: Artemis Pronouns: She/Her Sexuality: Straight Age: 15 Blue is - as always - the healer of the group, an alchemist and the long-range. While she can fight close-combat and with weapons like swords, she tends to avoid it since she’s much better at archery. Her potions are always in use - whether to heal or to damage - and she obsessively experiments with things like power ups, invincibility and other such things. It sometimes comes at drastic costs, but she takes them on herself nonetheless (think Moira or Swap!Blue). If someone interrupts her while she’s working, she can and will feed them to the wolves. She’s also known in the gang for having a seemingly magic inventory - always having exactly what’s needed at any given time, even if no one saw her packing it. She’s relied on as the medic, and constantly fusses over the others’ physical health - though not really in a motherly way, more like a big sister. And, yes - she is still addicted to netherwart.

Quotes:

“How the fuck did you manage to get hurt taking out the laundry?” “Don’t go thinking you can bullshit me about these things - come on, spill.” “Right between the eyes~” “YELS STOP STEALING MY EQUIPMENT YOU’RE GOING TO BLOW UP THE LAB AGAIN-” “This one will work. {BOOM} The next one will work.” “If you don’t drink the potion, I will shove it down your throat - bottle and all.”

Name: Yellow Nickname: Yels Code name: Jigsaw Pronouns: He/They Sexuality: Straight Age: 15 Yellow is the engineer that makes equipment, elaborate traps and works with Dark as the group’s hackers (Dark’s usually on-site, he’s usually off). He’s a little mad-scientist-y (*cough cough* high-key insane), and constantly works with TNT and creates new machines to “extend the reach of science”. Blue is the only one that can calm them down, and even then, getting them to sleep at all would be a miracle. He doesn’t fight long-range or engage in swordfighting (he can but it’s like a last resort). While he can fight close-combat, he much prefers explosives, bludgeoning weapons and trickery. Think Jinx without the machine gun and abandonment issues, but with a hacker’s setup and 50 projects.

Quotes:

“Fascinating - (pulls out notepad and paper) - and what about the combustion level? […] (scribbling something down) Alright, so up a few values, then…” “TALK TO THE TNT, SUCKER-” “Activate password cracker- oh, wait. […] 1234. How original.” “I don’t need sleep, I need answers .” “Too much coffee? I only drink 15 a day- […] Yes, from the same cafe. […] You call it overdosing on caffeine, I call it supporting small businesses.” “(perking up) Arson? […] (concerning maniacal laughter) ”

Full Name: The Second Coming Name: Second Nickname: Sec Code name: Whiskey Pronouns: They/Them (AMAB) Sexuality: Bi Age: 14 Second is the “ringleader” of the colour gang, despite being the second (heh) youngest (angry mum friend with sandal vibes). They primarily fight close-combat and sometimes with weapons like swords, but rarely long-range. They haven’t found out that their powers exist at all, but they still have the advantages of hollowheads (increased strength and pain tolerance, sharp teeth, almost second (heh) nature fighting abilities, etc). Oh, and they can draw anything into existence, and have a track record of accidentally destroying the base with their “helpers” (Green still swears he has no clue what happened to a particular one).

Quotes:

“HolyshitholyshitholyshITHOLYSHIT-” “Fuck you I was sleeping.” “Green! Keep. It. DOWN! […] GREEN I WILL BACKHAND YOU INTO THE INTERNET-” “Standby? […] Good. Forward!” “Cho, Cho! Look, I drew a firefox!” “(quantum-level snoring)”

Name: Purple Nickname: Purps Pronouns: They/Them (AFAB) Sexuality: Bi Age: 15 As the second(heh)-hand of Mango, Purple is always working. They don’t ruin their health over it, but they have ZERO free-time. Purple’s a bit socially awkward and doesn’t have any friends - aside from friendly relationships with the employees at the cafe they’re a regular at (mostly Teal (16F), who works there almost every day). They are fairly good at all fighting styles, though mostly close-combat, trickery, and their pistol. As the right-hand of the chief of police, though, they don’t get many 1v1 fights. They have a secret love of crochet and music, but these interests rarely shine due to their… well… entire lifestyle. They do LOVE their pets, though - mostly dogs. They are a dog person.

Quotes:

“Sir, I’m going to need to see your ID- […] Um, no - it needs to have your picture- […] Sir- […] Sir, show me your ID or get the fuck out.” “(obsessing over a fluffy dog) Awww!~ Hi, there~” “Ugh, come on - DAMN YOU, SIREN!” “Sorry, I’m really busy tonight. […] No, then too- […] Also then- […] And then!- […] SORRY, I’LL CALL YOU WHEN I’M NOT-” “Don’t worry, Ma’am. We’ll find them.” “Huh? How long have I been out? […] sHIT-”

[luckycheesefoodie321]

Sanji… is being… weird.

I didn’t address this but he was VERY happy to see Luffy again after what was only a day, maybe two of separation after Luffy got washed ashore. He was like running towards Luffy like it was the Zoro-Luffy reunion with his arms wide open but gets cut off by Chopper and Carrot.

Like I can see from a “Luffy and the crew have been reasserted as my number one priority and imma prove how ride or die I am” perspective why Sanji may have acted that way.

And just now, Law apologised to Kin’emon about him, Luffy and Zoro’s identities getting discovered and Sanji immediately got pissed and went to blame Law.

But like, Chopper and Nami immediately were like “oh it was deffo Luffy’s fault”

And then Sanji was like “oh Nami-san is apologising for Luffy’s actions? Did I overreact?” And also apologised for Luffy in a “huh oh yeah our Captain is like that how did I forget but also I’m kinda reluctant to apologise to this guy” kind of way. But he has no other beef with Law that I recall so why is he sparking up like Law is Zoro?

THIS IS VERY ZOSAN CODED. That’s what it is. Sanji is acting like Zoro is Law and it seems so out of pocket. I don’t think they’re close enough to have this kind of combative exchange?

I’m also including the desperate attempt to “recover” Okiku’s attention from Kin’emon (despite never having it in the first place???) as excessive Sanji vibes.

He’s being weird.