#I do not want them to die I just want them to suffer for a little bit

[henley-reeves]

Maybe if you want to make a statement against genocide, you shouldn't do it with a setting of Eurovision contest AND make genocide survivors into villains. And then have the hero of the show literally TORTURE a genocide survivor! The Doctor did go too far in the past, but it was ALWAYS either presented as a HUGE dark moment the Doctor is ashamed of and feels enormous guilt about, OR the companion angrily calling the Doctor out on their actions and why it is WRONG on every level. The Doctor faced no repercussions for his actions in the end, and Belinda DIDN'T call him out angry enough or at all, to be fair. I mean she walked in on her friend, TORTURING the survivor of the genocide she just learned about, and she didn't immediately stop him, she just watched for a few moments while he continued to do that! And in the end of the episode she was not even angry at him or terrified that he is capable of doing things like that to a living being. She just told him he scared her. IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY??? Also, what was the ending of the episode about?? Do you think allowing a survivor of a genocided planet sing a song about their people and home would somehow make it for a good ending??? What were the consequences for the corporation? Was it destroyed? Were the people responsible punished or faced consequences? Was justice served? Was the contest dismantled since it was funded by blood money? Did the Doctor have the "Let me help you" speech to Kid? Did the Doctor offer to help in any way to the survivors of the planet to free them from oppression? Did the Doctor feel awful for torturing someone who came from the planet of suffering? Didn't look like it. Wasn't he supposed to feel compassion and wish to help people who went through something so terrible the Doctor is all too familiar with themself? Remember when Ten locked Tentoo up in a different universe for committing genocide? Remember how Twelve went back and saved Davros when he was a kid? Remember when Donna called the Doctor out for murdering children of Racnoss and refused to travel with him because this behavior was so terrible? Remember Ten's "THE MAN WHO NEVER WOULD" speech against genocide and refusing to kill a man who just murdered his daughter? Remember how Amy yelled at Eleven who pulled a gun at a war criminal and gave him an angry speech on how he is supposed to be the guy "WHO NEVER WOULD"?? Remember how Bill cried and asked Twelve "HOW MANY PEOPLE YOU'VE SEEN DIE? HOW MANY TILL YOU LOST COUNT?" Remember how the Ood were enslaved by an evil corporation and then rose up against their torturers, and the Doctor was kind to them and helped liberate their people and they were not presented as villains for fighting against their oppressors? What happened in this episode in terms of the main plot, was NOT a good message and NOT a good execution. At several moments I actually rooted for Kid, because I felt like his anger was justified, seeing all these people basically being all happy "Hunger Games" style watching contest funded by murder of the entire planet while the victims were silenced and forced into submission and treated like garbage by the entire galaxy.

[cherry-blossom-honey]

Love is about period baskets (Bob Reynolds x F! Reader fluff)

Bob wants to help his girlfriend when she is in pain, so he asks Yelena what to do.

Warning: Just the reader having painful periods and use of (y/n) literally two times

A/N: I suffer from terrible PMS and periods so I'm feeling soft today!

Bob was worried.

You've been dating for less than a month and it was his first time seeing you like that; usually, you were the first person from the team to wake up, cooking breakfast and making sure that nobody overslept.

This time you weren't there.

—I-is (y/n) okay? She told me she was gonna sleep for ten more minutes, but she looked sick— Bob said, with the usual hint of sadness in his eyes.

—Easy, little man. You are not going to die if you're separated for a while— Alexei chuckled, drinking his coffee.

—Don't be rude, idiot— Yelena spat to the bearded man before facing Bob— Do you know what periods are?

—I've heard of them, blood comes out of a woman's-

—YES, yes. Got it— The blonde interrumpted, her cheeks turning red.— And (y/n) has some issues with them. Hers are really painful, so she can't really leave the bed when it happens.

The dark haired man nodded shyly. He wanted to help his girlfriend, the idea of her suffering hurt him.

—Well, you know. You could make her a period basket, and I will help you with that.

—A period basket?— Bob and Alexei said at unison. Yelena sighed.

Men

After a few hours, the duo encouraged your boyfriend to knock on your door. You obviously invited him to come in and he awkwardly handed you a pretty pink box with a white bow. It was full of cute and useful things; pads, painkillers, tea bags and a hot water bottle.

—Oh, Bob— you said, wiping the tears off your eyes— This is beautiful, thank you so much, my love.

—It's for your period— he smiled, looking down— There's more under the hot water thing.

A period basket can't be completed without snacks, and he got you a perfect mix of sweet and salty stuff.

—Peanut butter chocolates?? You are the best, I love these!

—Yelena told me to get them because they're your favorite and you both eat them together— It was obvious that your best friend helped him a little.— Oh! And this is also for you

You looked at him confused as he took his hoodie off, showing a little bit of his toned abs.

—Are you gonna gift me an striptease or what?— You laughed, secretly loving the thought of it.

Bob blushed so intensely you thought he was going to explode.

—Oh, n-no. The hoodie, it's for you. I got more of them so you can keep this one.

That was the sweetest thing somebody has ever done to you. For the first time in at least two days, you got out of the bed only to hug him tight. Bob's big arms surrounded you as if you were his entire world.

—I don't feel so good. Would you cuddle with me?— you asked softly, still hugging him

—Of course I will— Now, he smiled looking directly at you

Once you both lied in bed, you fell asleep to the warmth of his body and his calm breathing.

She's so beautiful, Bob thought, kissing your forehead before closing his own eyes.

[alarajrogers]

Nuclear war is worse than being forced to flee another country for fear of persecution, but do we go around saying people aren't allowed to complain about being forced to seek asylum because at least no one dropped a nuke on them?

Saying "I am oppressed and this is how and I have a term I want to use for my oppression" is not the same as saying "I am the most oppressed special-est person" or "I am more oppressed than other people in this conversation." I keep seeing, over and over, people claiming that trans men using "transandrophobia" means that they are claiming trans women have privilege over them. Uh... no. That is not what it means, what it implies, or what they're saying. They are saying cis people have privilege over them, and that the specific nature of their oppression is gendered.

I also feel like one of the reasons the left is failing, worldwide, is the refusal to acknowledge any aspect in which men, specifically, are oppressed, as men. We see the draft, police violence, the carceral state, the shorter life span of men, and we just go la la la men have privilege over women. Yes, they do, but there are areas in which the same patriarchy that grants them those privileges harms them specifically.

80% of murder victims are men

There are far, far fewer domestic violence shelters for men in proportion to the population of men who suffer from DV, a ratio that's been estimated to be from 12%-25% as many as women who suffer DV

They can legally be forced to go fight and die or kill in a war

Vastly more likely to be killed or brutalized by cops even when they are white than women of the same race are

And let's not even get into the emotional damage that being socialized to believe you can't show any emotions but anger and lust does to people.

Does any of this mean they don't have privilege over women? No, in most areas, men have privilege over women, and most of the areas where they suffer are directly the result of patriarchy privileging men in most regards. If men are the violence class, the people who are somewhat entitled to be violent to others to get what they want, then logically men are seen as more violent, more valuable as soldiers, more dangerous to society, and less likely to be victims... which is why they can be drafted, there are few DV shelters for men, they are often killed or assaulted by cops, and no one really pays attention to how likely it is that men will be murdered by a stranger as a gendered thing. Like, yeah, of course men will murder each other, that's acceptable and understood, the thing we need to worry about is violence against women. Well, it's not wrong to try to stop violence against women, but I don't see a lot trying to address the societal roots of why men are so much more likely to be murdered.

And all of these things being true does not state or even imply that this is the fault of women. The left has a hard time dealing with the concept that individuals of a class can suffer for the actions of their class as a whole. The concept that individual men suffer because of patriarchy, which men as a class invented and perpetrate (though lots of women collaborate), is not a thing leftist thought is well equipped to handle.

Back to transandrophobia. Trans men saying "we suffer in ways trans women don't, that are specific to our maleness", is not saying "we suffer worse than trans women" or "trans women are oppressing us." It in fact says nothing about trans women. It says "we, trans men, are oppressed by society for being trans men." Last I checked, trans women don't run society and only the most extreme TERFs think they do.

It really takes enormous arrogance to hear people say "We are suffering because of society" and assume they are saying "We are suffering because of you" or "We are suffering worse than you." I am allowed to complain about my breast cancer even though it didn't metastasize and kill me. If someone punches you in the face, you have the right to object to that even though other people have been murdered. The idea of the binary being the only lens for any oppression, and that gendered oppression is always a matter of the oppressor gender causing the suffering of the oppressed gender, is absolute bullshit, and particularly trans people should want to get rid of it, considering the degree to which cis women oppress trans women!

I get that the MRAs kinda poisoned the well with the attitude "men suffer and it's because of women" -- which is why they have not been materially able to do one single thing to improve the lives of men, because they mistakenly (or maliciously) attribute male suffering under patriarchy to being caused by women. But since when do we let our opponents dictate the terms by which we analyze anything? Get over the knee-jerk reaction that all men who complain about suffering under patriarchy (or kyriarchy) are blaming women for it, and stop talking over people who are talking about their own suffering to tell them that they are not in fact suffering, because that is exactly the tactic oppressors use.

The thing that annoys me about "transandrophobia" as a discussion point is that there is a rich history of marginalized men discussing how the expectations and role of manhood are shaped by their marginalization, what people expect from them as men, what parts of "manhood" they're denied access to... So why would we need to rely on the argument that men have it worse than women or even the rhetoric that trans men will essentially never be "real" men and that's why we're discriminated against

[writeriguess]

Okay, first of all, I ADORE your writing! You just GET the characters, and I seriously look up to you. You even made me wanna write Bakugo again, and I thought I was past that phase. Anyway, is it weird to request a fanfic of a fanfic? Because I cannot write smut to save my life. No pressure at all, but I wrote Bakugo with an unhinged, lovestruck reader who’s always trying to win him over while he pretends not to care (but totally does). They end up together, and I’d love a fic where reader tries to surprise him with something sexy in her usual chaotic way. He’s surprised, laughs, but ultimately goes along with it because, well, that’s why he loves her. Some fluffy, comedic smut, if you’re up for it. But if not, no worries at all. Just wanted to shoot my shot!

Laced with Chaos

Katsuki Bakugo has been dealing with your bullshit for a long time.

It started with the relentless, borderline concerning pursuit. Grand declarations of love in public places. Handmade gifts that ranged from endearing to downright dangerous. A once-a-week habit of sneaking into his agency, just to throw him finger guns and whisper "call me, Dynamight" before security dragged you out.

And, to be fair, you did eventually win him over.

He’d begrudgingly fallen for the way your chaotic energy filled every room you entered, how you never took his attitude personally, how you loved him so unapologetically he didn’t stand a chance. It had been inevitable. Unavoidable. His fate, whether he liked it or not.

Still, if there was one thing he should have expected by now, it was that you’d never stop being a walking, talking, sexier-than-you-had-any-right-to-be problem.

Which is why, when he comes home from patrol and finds you standing in the bedroom doorway, draped in sheer black lace, holding what appears to be a homemade whip crafted out of shoelaces and a broken phone charger—he nearly drops his duffel bag.

“…The fuck?”

Your grin is dazzling. “Welcome home, Dynamight. Hope you’re ready for a night of debauchery and sin.”

Oh god. You’re doing a voice.

He squints, stepping closer. "The hell is on your head?"

It’s a DIY lace veil, of course. Because of course you’d take it that extra step.

"Do you like it?" You wiggle your shoulders in what he thinks is supposed to be a seductive manner. "I thought I’d spice things up, you know? Give you a night to remember. Make all your dirtiest fantasies come true."

Bakugo drags a hand down his face. "Why do I feel like you're about to hit me with a theme?"

“Because I am,” you say brightly. "I call this... The Fallen Angel: A Tale of Lust and Damnation.”

He chokes. "A tale—?!"

"You found me, broken and longing," you continue, as if you didn’t just give him an aneurysm. "Cast from the heavens for the crime of loving too hard.” A pause. Then, seriously, “And maybe also tax fraud. But mostly love.”

He wants to die. He wants to walk into the ocean and never come back.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "What the fuck am I listening to right now?"

"A story, Katsuki," you say with conviction. "Our story. One of passion, redemption, and—"

"I'm gonna stop you right there." He sighs heavily, tossing his duffel onto the floor. "Where’d you even get that outfit?"

You gesture grandly to the bed. “Oh, I made it.”

Bakugo looks.

There, in a heap of suffering, lies a pile of butchered lingerie. Expensive-looking lace bras that have been haphazardly cut into strange, asymmetrical shapes. A pair of fishnets with the crotch completely obliterated (why). And, off to the side, a sewing kit he knows you have no idea how to use.

His eye twitches. “Babe."

“Yeah?”

“…Is that superglue?”

“Maybe.”

He prays for patience. “Why?”

“Because stitches take too long.”

He closes his eyes. Counts to five. Opens them again. "You glued yourself into your own outfit?"

You lift your chin. "Wouldn't be the first time."

He stares at you. You stare back.

Then, slowly—so painfully slowly—Bakugo exhales, and a grin twitches at the corner of his lips.

And that’s when you know.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, stepping closer, hands pressed to your heart. “Are you laughing?”

His jaw clenches. “No.”

"You are."

“Shut up.”

"You love me."

He grabs you, hauls you into his arms, and throws you onto the bed before you can gloat any further. You squeal, but it immediately turns to a giggling mess as he lands on top of you, pinning you beneath his weight.

“Listen,” he says, voice low, fingers curling beneath your chin. “You wanna be a fuckin’ menace? Fine. But you do not have to DIY your damn lingerie, dumbass.”

You pout up at him, thoroughly unrepentant. “But I wanted to make it special.”

His thumb brushes your bottom lip. His eyes darken. “…Tch. The only thing special about this is the fact that you haven’t glued yourself shut.”

You bat your lashes at him. “Would you still hit it if I did?”

He barks a laugh, loud and rough and real, before dragging his teeth over your neck. “Don’t test me, idiot.”

You shiver, tilting your head, giving him more access. “You’re not mad?”

He nips at your skin, soothing the sting with his tongue. “Nah.”

Your heart soars. “So you do like it—”

He bites you harder, shutting you up with a sharp gasp. “Don’t push it.”

You whimper, squirming beneath him. His hands slide down your sides, slipping beneath the sham of a lace bodysuit you’ve trapped yourself in, and—

—rrrRIIIIP!

You gasp. "Bakugo!"

"What?" He grins, teeth sharp, voice smug. “Just helpin’ you out, babe. Ain't like you're gettin' outta this thing on your own.”

Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

Then, finally—“…Hot.”

He laughs again, this time softer, and presses his forehead to yours. “You drive me crazy,” he mutters. “But fuck if I don’t love the shit outta you.”

And then—well.

You do end up making it a night to remember.

Just… maybe not the way you originally planned.

[reavesluv]

Between sessions

“You’ll come back. Stronger than ever.”

Paige torn her ACL during her junior year in Uconn. Rehab and therapy sessions were a must— You’ve been working in sports medicine for years, and you became her only hope.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You always knew what you wanted. You were empathetic, kind, caring. You were made to work with people, to help people. You loved medicine, and also, sports.

You grew up in a household full of athletes, but your family was cursed, or at least that’s what you used to say. Your mom played soccer in her youth, until she dislocated her knee. Your dad played basketball– almost NBA level, until a vertebral fracture. And your big brother also played basketball, until on his freshman year of college, he suffered a severe shoulder dislocation with nerve damage.

When you turned ten, and told everyone you wanted to play a sport, they said “You’ll never play a sport under this roof.”

You knew why, so you never fought them.

But, if you couldn’t play, then what were you gonna do?

And that’s when it found you. An anatomy book that your mom kept hidden for some reason in her little library.

You fell in love with it. And with everything it said.

You learned how the muscles work, how the brain functions. And you understood that’s what you had to do.

You were always the type of girl who lived inside books. Studying until midnight by choice, always getting A+ in every class.

While you studied, you learned how you could have treated your family’s injuries. But you never told them, scared that still affects them.

You applied for pre-med classes before graduating high school. Doctors helped you sneak into the gallery of the OR’s.

You loved healthcare, but you loved sports more— that was your actual dream.

You discovered sports medicine and applied to all the Ivy league programs in America, and also universities close to your home.

When you finished high school, it was time to make college decisions.

Yale, Berkeley, Harvard, Stanford, NYU, UCLA.

You were good. More than good.

You chose Berkeley, you were the best in your classes at just eighteen.

When you turned twenty-two you graduated and started doing rounds in hospitals. Easily found a job in private clinics.

You specialized in knee and shoulder dislocations and vertebral fractures— sounds familiar, right?

You entered the transfer portals, you loved California, but you needed to help players from other places.

You got transferred to Uconn. They needed a sports therapist for their men and women’s basketball team. You chose the women’s team and recommended other people for the male’s.

The women’s team was different. They were good, and they liked you.

You used to give them talks about the importance of taking care of your body. Always trying to have the best equipment to take care of them.

Some of them with chronic injuries, mostly ankles and wrists. Others with really recent dislocations or lactic acid buildups.

But you never really had to take care of a serious injury until—

Paige Bueckers. twenty-one. The star of the team.

You were there the moment her ACL torn. The way she felt to the ground grabbing her knee, tears coming out from her eyes, screams coming out of her mouth.

You ran to her, trying to calm her down while the rest of the team grabbed the emergency stretcher.

“You’re gonna be okay. I promise.” You told her.

She cried harder. Didn’t even look at you.

They took her to the therapy room and put her down.

You tried to grab her knee softly so you could diagnose her.

“Don’t touch me.” She cried out.

“You want me to help you or you want to die in pain? You answered.

She understood you just wanted to help her, and let her guard down.

“It hurts Y/N, it hurts.” She cried, she grabbed your arm that was closest to her.

“I know Paige, i know.”

Everything happened so fast. You gave her a pill to calm her down and inject her a pain killer directly to her knee. A scream of pain came out of her.

When she calmed down, you started to do your diagnosis, hoping it wasn’t as bad as it looked.

Her parents and some of her teammates were already in the room, waiting for your final say.

You took her parents outside. “She torn her ACL.”

Her mom cried.

Drew looked at his dad in confusion. “What’s that?” He asked.

“It means she’s out for the rest of the season.” His dad finished.

“She’s not strong enough to hear it right now. She hopes that is just a minor dislocation.” You told him.

“She knows a minor dislocation doesn’t hurt like that. She knows.” He answered.

You looked down. You were so empathetic sometimes it was embarrassing.

You both entered the room. Paige still laying on the bed, waiting for you.

She looked at you and her eyes shined. She was definitely not the nonchalant final boss she used to say she was.

“Hey Paige, how are you feeling?” You asked.

You helped her sit on the bed so she could speak more comfortably. Then looked at you.

“Really bad.” You could sense how she wanted to cry again, you could sense the pain in her voice. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Paige—” You took a deep breath. “You torn your ACL.”

Her eyes widened and tears came out almost immediately from her eyes.

Her dad hugged her. Drew hugging her other leg softly.

“You’re out for the rest of the season.” You finished.

She cried so hard you never heard someone cry that much before.

She wiped her tears and looked at you. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I wish.”

She tried to compose herself. And looked at you again.

“Is as much rehab as i think i have to get?” She asked softly.

“I think even more.” You answered the same way. She lowered her head, like she was grieving someone. “I’ll take care of you, Bueckers.”

She looked at you. “You’ll come back stronger, i’ll make sure of that.” You finish.

“Thank you.” She said, before crying again.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

[allthenicknamesweretaken]

Okay so after the Monstrosity trailer came out I've seen a lot of different takes and analysies on Kai and why he's acting the way he is and I would like to contribute

In Dragons Rising Kai is a very goofy and a comic relief character. He throws puns and quips around even when no one finds them funny, he provokes and annoys the others even though both the characters and the fandom see it as unnecessary and rude. Especially with the spin-off trailer now out, why would Kai act like this after experiencing years of suffering? In the trailer he said something along the lines of "I just want this all to end", he wants to be back with his family, he wants his life to be normal again. And after finally returning he has an opportunity to be that way again. So why would he act like something is wrong when he could pretend that nothing significant happened at all and he is still his same "normal" self he was before the merge? The goofiness is a mask because he never wanted the land of monsters to happen and is pretending it didn't.

And I know that Kai's comic relief is a mask because he very easily can be mature. Recalling S1 Ep13 where Kai has to team up with Wyldfyre to retrieve the blade he can't exactly afford to be the immature one with Wyldfyre running around so Kai easily takes up the role of a responsible adult. Which seemed contradicting to me at first with his earlier behavior, but considering the context we have now, it makes sense. Kai is mature inside and he can switch back to it if he needs.

Another thing I've noticed, when in season 3 Kai was traveling alone with Nya in silence when he started making popping sounds to fill in the silence. And when Nya pointed it out, he said he hadn't even noticed he was doing it. Which is such a strange thing to add in, right? Where could he have possibly gotten such a strong habit that he didn't even notice he was doing it? Unless at some point he was traveling in silence all alone with no one to talk to so he had to think of ways to fill in the silence. Other people also pointed out this explains why he narrates to himself now too.

One more thing I noticed, when they were fighting Thunderfang, when Lloyd was having his powers drained, everyone had shown distress at the sight, but Kai's voice was the only one that cracked. Which is so strange, right? In fact I don't think I've ever seen a voice crack used in a distressing situation in this entire series. So imagine you spent years stuck in a monster infested land trying to get back to your family, only for one of them to potentially die right in front of your eyes. I think that warrants a voice crack.

[glitter-stained]

I've said it before but as I become more and more convinced that Dick Grayson should develop a gambling addiction (the origins of which can be traced back to risk-taking life-threatening gambles in his teenage years) I want to reiterate that Dick should walk into a casino for a case, sit at the table of his mark, buy a bunch of tokens, and then as he makes a bet pull out a bag of human teeth and empty them in the betting poll with a grin. As a power move.

This serves the purpose that Dick's gambling is first introduced as both a badass/cool move and something honestly uncomfortable, disquieting. And then as he gets deeper and deeper into addiction his experience of gambling gets more and more fucked up. I don't see him partaking into online gambling (because tbh i personally struggle to envision him with a smartphone, though I'd love to see a character struggling with online gaming addiction, especially a teenage character), but I do see it taking over aspects of his life, making bets with other characters and casually pulling out wads of cash, taking unnecessary risks not even for the adrenaline thrill but because someone bet he couldn't do it, etc.

Let's be honest, billionaire!Dick has some money to burn before he suffers the consequences of gambling addiction that the common man suffers (though i do want him to lose lots of money), and I want his relationship with money to be a little bent due to like his whole history, but I want him to get impacted /fucked up for other reasons too. I want him to make excuse after excuse to go back to the casino "for the case" until he just stops and keeps telling himself that he doesn't have a problem. I want him to count cards and get beaten up and fucked up because he can't fight back without blowing his cover, and I want him to try and talk himself out of going to a different casino and tell himself he's just fine and his hands are shaking and I want him to end up in the different casino and I want a montage of him at different casinos, getting beaten up, sometimes cheating sometimes not, putting teeth into the betting pool.

As we get near the rock bottom part of the arc we should see him losing the teeth in one of the games and then getting beaten and then later finding a dead body in the dead of night and checking it and concluding to a natural cause of death and then pulling some teeth out with shaky hands while telling himself the whole time "it's alright i can stop when i want i can stop it i can stop i can stop i can stop" in a clear visual parallel to the Catalina scene that makes it clear Dick's gambling acts as an attempt to regain control and agency, and it's spiralled to the point he doesn't realize he is desecrating a dead person's body in his attempt to regain ownership over himself. And then very soon after this he should enter Hailey in a dog fighting ring "for a case" and bet on her and watch her die in horror and we should see the dog looking at him reflected in his pupil and then after the dogfight is over and the ring is empty he should kneel next to his agonising dog in a parallel to the iconic flying graysons death panel and he should pet her as she dies and he should have flashbacks to his parents' bodies in the FG uniform, Jason's death, Steph in the robin uniform (even though that's not what she was wearing when she died) Damian's death (same) and Blockbuster's corpse and all the Bludhaven victims and he should try to keep Hailey alive even though it's clear she's too hurt and she's not gonna survive it and his hands are covered in her blood and the monologue running again and again in his head should be "i'm sorry. It won't stop. It won't stop. It won't stop." And then we should get a couple of panels and then a big one showing only Hailey as she dies for good and there's no thought box in those, just silence, except for the big one showing her dead body, eyes shut, that has a little thought box at the bottom right that says: "It's never gonna stop."

[thequeenofthewinter]

Even in Death Flowers Bloom

Chapter 6: Tulip (Link)

This one is rated E, so be warned if you click the link. <3

"How long has this been going on?" As he feels her hands clench into his nightshirt, a stirring of both affection and something else swells within him. 

Not now, Emmrich. Please. It would be wildly inappropriate and especially not while she is crying in your arms. That would be taking a gross advantage. Do you not have a care?

He swallows, his fingers tentatively reaching up to run through her hair. Soft, it is so soft, just like her. Just like her skin which runs beneath his fingertips as he carefully tips her head back to look at him again. "How long?"

Watery eyes made greener in the light look up at him, tears trailing down her cheeks. Would that he could wipe them away. How he would love to--

No! She doesn't want that. Not here, not now, and most likely not ever. What has gotten into you tonight?

"Weeks. Since before the Lifts, prior to when I began teaching with you."

"And you did not think to come to me before?" His eyes do not leave hers as worry and something else unidentifiable to her flicks across his expression. "Iris, I had told you--"

"I know. I know, and I am sorry. I thought this would all resolve itself on its own. Clearly, I was wrong."

"Clearly, and now--"

Her voice comes out small, so different from the Rook he had known who had brought their team together, sorting out their problems and bringing Evanuris to their knees. No. This is Iris, the woman, stripped bare before him with worries, insecurities, and doubts just like anyone else. "Are you angry with me?"

"No, of course not. What ever would make you believe that?"

"I don't know. I just--" Her voice trails off as she realizes how warm his arms are wound around her, how wonderful he smells like leather-bound books and parchment--how close she is to him. She is practically sitting in his lap, and if she leaned forward just a little, she could--

It is the sweetest torture for her as Iris finds she wishes to cry for an entirely different reason altogether.

For a moment, they continue sit in silence, the spring of her words suddenly run as dry as her tears. Or perhaps, it is that they are all not enough, poignant emotion instead pulling them taut with invisible strings to say what cannot be said with words through action.

The air stills around them as Emmrich's eyes drift down to her lips before meeting her eyes, his hand trailing from her chin to cup her cheek as she takes in a shaky breath. Is this really going to happen? Will he--

Slowly, her eyes flutter closed, hope driving her forward, and she is unable to help herself as she leans forward until her lips finally find his.

At first, their kiss is soft, tentative, and perhaps a little uncertain as Emmrich's lips envelop hers as if he had nothing but time in the world for her. How she had craved this, dreamed of it, wanted him for so long that she cannot even remember when it started and now--now it feels like her suffering has finally ended as she falls into him, lips parting slightly to take in a breath before he steals it away from her.

And she would let him.

He could have anything he wanted of her, and she would give it freely to Emmrich as if it had already belonged to him. Perhaps that is why when she pulls back from him, and he sinks his fingers into the silken strands of her hair, she does not protest and even presses herself closer.

The softest moan, so quiet and so sweet, escapes him, so unexpectedly exquisite that she drinks from him deeper, lips fully parting without question when his tongue runs over the seam of her lips.

Divine. He is absolutely divine. She could die and be buried here right on the spot as his tongue brushes lazily against hers. The taste of salt mingles with their sweetness, turning their kiss ever more desperate with the remembrance of why she is here to begin with, and he drowns himself further. He will wipe away every trace of her fear and replace it with nothing but affection until he drags her down with him to the depths.

Art by the insanely skilled Svanha. (You may have seen this floating around as I posted it the other day. This is the snippet of writing which I commissioned this for.)

[w-40-k]

First of an addition to my previous post (I forgot about);

The son who was the inside help to steal the panacea, participated in the conflict to free the lion,

(partially in an attempt to redeem (read atone) himself, but also what is basically a suicide mission from the rest of the honour guard

[bit of a sink or swim thing, if he lives great! If not, well thats one less hazzard to deal with, (the conflict to free the lion is *brutal*)])

and he is gravely *injured*, but surrives to see the lion freed by Mortarion.

(*Dying* is easy, it's what he's bred and raised to do; *living* with the knowledge that you are part of the reason for all of this suffering on the other hand, now *that* can break a man.

'I didn't *die*; this is a sign from the Emporer that i am to do do my penance by living'

[he's banished from the home guard by the sons and would've also never again be allowed to set foot onthe 500 worlds itself too, if not for the intervention of Guilliman.

Who, whilst disquieted by the fact that the gambit can be exploited like that, sees that the son (I propose that he's named Archillies; for how his one weakness was exploited) is genuinely remorseful for his actions and so finds Archillies a suitable task to accomplish that keeps him out of the sons way (there are those within the home guard, who hold the opinion, Archillies should've died in the Liberation of the Lion)])

On the Emporer;

The emperor isn't actively *malicious*, just suffering from a case of 'my way or the highway' in addition to thinking he knows whats best for humanity (and also having been around long enough to witness every single single combination of fuck up).

He was also very much on a *time crunch*, with the human webway project as his his no. 1 priority.

Love or hate the guy, he just plain doesn't have *time* to care about anything that doesn't involve his plan for humanity.

(The horrors beyond your comprehension are very much out to *get* you and they would love nothing more then to see you fail [and will help *make* it so if given half a chance])

Also 'carring' from the perspective of an imortal (perpetual) who's additionally also made up off like a million spykers is going to be different to that of your average (trans)human.

(YMMV on if the emperor rid himself of parts of his humanity over time to better focus on his plan without distractions. Because if he *did*, that means he literally *can't* care about the fates of individuals.)

'Oh Angron is sad about his friends and he also has *literal* nails in his head? Can he still do what I tell him to though? Yes? Great. Moving on to issue no. 1,687,777'

On interactions between the trio;

That's going to be a dozy.

Because you've got lion, who *looks* the oldest but is actually the youngest in terms of actual *lived* experience.

(YMMV on how the warp fucked with how long the infant primarchs spent in the warp and on their planets prior to being found by emps.)

And Lion and Guilliman are going to discuss things that happened ten millennia ago like they recently happened (because to them it *is* recent) and Mortarion can only go 'huh, I guess that *was* a thing that happened back then'

Mortarion who has, for the most part (because warp), actually *lived* through most of the past ten millennia, get's to occasionally fill in blanks in the other two's knowledge with first hand accounts of events.

In general things are going to be *akward*.

You have Guilliman; whom he killed (in a very gruesome manner even. oh and because of his eideitic memory he remembers *every second* of it ), and who actively has to suppress his fight or flight instinct when they interact.

And Lion whom he freed (from a very long time of improvement) but who also wants to show solidarity with Guilliman.

(Lion and Guilliman have some very long conversations, because they each other are the only people (on the same level as a primarch) who *gets* what they went through.

The wide open sky, suddenly narrowed to just a window, the knowledge that there's nothing you can do to change it *either*. The sheer bloody difference of being able to do *everything* to suddenly *not* fucks with them the most.

In addition to the broken trust for Guilliman and the knowledge that this could happen again to the *both* of them.)

But Mortarion is an older, male figure who has been around the block and knows this galaxy like the back of his hand. He's turned over a new leaf (both to free his sons and for the hope of a brighter future) and he is *reliable* because he has an incentive to do so.

That's to say he is someone who can watch *over* the other two,

(Guilliman has conflicted feelings on this; is his death at Mortarion's hand *worse* then feeling of betrayal he felt when the sons enacted their plan to collar him?

The feeling of helplessness at decaying alive in real time without anything to do about it [primal fear of death] vs helplessness at having that collar forced on him out of a twisted sense of love from the sons [primarch reduced to just a man]

And Mortarion may be gruff, but in his own way he's making an effort to acomodate Guilliman's needs.

He does this partially out of practicality;

Guilliman is more useful if he can actually focus on the task in front of him. But also because, seeing another primarch -a demigod for all intents and purposes- acutely try to *suppress* his fight and flight instinct, unsettles something deep within Mortarion.

Mortarion does not regret what he did to Guilliman [godblight] itself, but now he is confronted with the active consequences of his actions and decides he wants to do something about it.

[The person who caused you so much pain, also being the one to try and ease it, is the most conflicting for Guilliman; it would be easier to deal with, if Mortarion would be cruel or even indifferent]

He offers lion similar accommodations, but since there's less bad blood [read trauma] between these two it's... easier.)

almost like the emperor, if he actually *cared* (YMMV on if the emperor has the capacity to care, re: discarded humanity).

Also speaking of Mortarion;

Now that he's with the Emporer and out from under Nurgle's thumb, he's (also the DG to a degree if were honest) probably going to have a midlife crisis at some point.

Because he had ten millennia to grow (no pun intended) and settle into the person he is now.

Detangle the mess of what is actually him and what is Nurgle's influence on him (because deamon princes shift over time such, that their desires and wishes align with those of their patron)

Figure out what parts of himself he wants to keep and what to get rid of.

Figure out who he wants to be as a *person*.

(Boy's got *alot* of introspection to do, but at least he has his sons, who are in the same boat.

Though he doesn't tell them that,

[bit of a conflict between, happy he isn't alone in this and wishing his sons wouldn't have to go through this, even as he's *glad*, his sons are finally *free* of Nurgle and have the choice to be anything that they want to be (well, within reason, those are *still* astartes)])

All of that in addition to the at mimimun severe body dismorphya he (and the DG) deals with now.

(That's to say, even if the emperor *only* gets rid of the millions of diseases he carries in addition to the actual rotting bits

[just to the point that it is *safe* for your average baseline to exist in Mortarion's general vicinity]

that's still a *huge* adjustment to get used to! [actual *acceptance* is a separate matter *entirely*]

Because whilst those changes [Nurgle] were forced on him, they've been a part of him for long enough that they became *him* [Mortarion].

The emperor also can't draw the process of removing them out for *too* long, because of the eventuality that Mortarion actually needs to fight *alongside* baselines, who would very much prefer *not* decompose on the spot [like Guilliman (also this is would be terrible for Mortarion's and the DG already less then *stellar* reputation)])

Now that I think on it this would actually gain him some newfound sympathy towards his sons and astartes in general.

(The process of turning a baseline into astartes and also astartes into primaris [also, dreadnoughts] are some pretty drastic changes that most don't get to have a lot of say in. And those changes fundamentally *change* you up to the *molecular* level.

That's at a minimum some pretty severe body *dismorphya* if not outright body *horror*.)

On Lorgar;

OK, I wrote that bit about lorgar's vision to essentially be lorgar seeing that vision at some random point and going 'huh, neat. Anyway moving on' but now that you mention the possibility of redemption...

The emperor has his fingers in many pies and with the chaos god distracted (angron dead, morty a turncoat) he was able to manipulate the warp such, that lorgar saw this vision of a future that was not to be.

(more like lorgar sees fragments of *something*, gets curious and investigates [i imagine lorgar to be similar to the religious scholars of the islam during the middle ages, religious but also a man of learning] only to see the whole thing for himself in the end)

This (lorgar) was the emporer's back up plan in the eventuality that Mortarion would've either hesitated to long or outright *refused* the emperor's offer (morty *didn't*, but it never hurts to be prepared)

Also this would've been a plan in the making for a *very* long time (relatively speaking, because warp). For the emporer knows a vassal, who you can convince and agrees with you, is more loyal then one you brought to it's knees by force.

(None of the deamon princes, sans *maby* lorgar have actually been properly *seduced* to join chaos and the emperor *knows* and can *exploit* that. So lorgar gets the *propper* seduction treatment.

But like, for our purposes, imagine lorgar as a deamon who gets seduced by whats essentially an angel [biblical accurate angel].

Also Lorgar is *the* religion guy; would be a missed opportunities if we *didn't* take advantage of some classic themes you know?)

In general I don't know a huge amount about lorgar, so any corrections are very much appropriated (do right by your favorite guy).

However anykind of redemption would include only lorgar and exclude the WB (what with faith and your personal approach to it beeing a pretty *intimate* thing, like, say with the Anchorrite.)

Speaking of the Anchorrite;

That reunion would go over relatively well I imagine. With the Anchorrite gladened that his father finally, at last has returned to the light (no pun intended).

Pherhaps there might be something of an exchange of roles for those two; with the Anchorrite taking on the role of a guide for newly returned lorgar.

Help proppely aquaint lorgar with the imperial cult, smooth over tension between lorgar and others of the faith (show him the ropes so to speak).

Also Lorgar (after figuring out how to fit his personal views on religion and emperor into the established canon of the imperial cult that is) will be *fascinated*, at a *minimum* from a religious scientific standpoint, in regards to how the imperial cult diverged from his original scriptures over time (because scholar).

And after he has had time to prove his mettle, I could see specifically the adepts soriatas taking a shine to him.

(faithful, zealous and with a scholar focus for lorgar that would gel pretty well with the branches that have a greater focus on the *nun* aspect of the sisters.

I'm now also remembering that the sisters actually respect the imperial guard quite a bit and *that* in turn reminds me of the repentias and penal legions in general.

Say, lorgar becomes to be regarded as something of a patron for the rempetias and penal legions (everyone who does penitence). Because if something as *wretched* and *corrupt* as a *deamon prince* managed to find the light, then *surely*, *they* can as well?

On training between the trio and apologies;

Frankly, I think it's too early for anyone to even be willing to give the people, who might feel inclined to offer an apology, the time of day to listen to.

Let the *traitors* prove their mettle, who knows if they won't just turn turncoat *again* at a critical moment.

(Lion and Guilliman make an *effort* to to not have anyone call those formerly aligned with chaos that to their *face*, but they very much understand the sentiment, even if the duo disproves on the basis that name calling is pretty disadvantageous from a unit cohesion standpoint)

And because of the eventuality of them fighting on the same battle field is a fact that happens regardless of the preferences of those involved,

(far way in case of Guilliman and sons because of the trauma they have because of Mortarion, also to a lesser extent lion and sons in regards to lorgar [who wasn't *personally* a part of the fighting, but very much *orchestrated* the whole thing].

The are also countless numbers of imperial citizens, who *suffere*d at the hands of lorgar and Mortarion in some fashion, directly or otherwise)

training *needs* to happen, because the Imperium *needs* every ally it can get and it cannot afford anything but *absolute* cohesion if they want a *chance* at standing against any of the millions of foes constantly asaling them from all sides.

'Oh, you have trauma from this honestly very fucked up thing that happened to you? Well to bad! The thing trying to eat us isn't just going to wait for you to pull yourself together. If you falter and slow us down, we are *all* going to be screwed!'

In regards to the sons (UM and DA) I could pherhaps imagine some pretty extreme form of exposure therapy beeing employed to get a lid on the gambit (they cannot afford to be distracted trying to murder their allies when the tyranid swarm in front of them wants to eat that hive over there)

Like, start out by put singular DG behind glass walls so the sons can't murder them and thus to get used to their cousins presence.

Guilliman (accompanied by lion) forces himself to have polite conversations with Mortarion face to face (first a distance away and slowly reducing the distance over time, then at some point escalate to unarmed sparring.)

But this is very much a long term plan that needs to be enacted in an unfortunately short amount of time.

Interestingly, some of the fallen would secretly (deathwish if that comes out) hold some measure of admiration for Mortarion for returning their father to to them. Also because if someone like a deamon primarch can find the light then surely they can *too*

(Specifically Mortarion because, he turned turncoat in the hope for a brighter tomorrow and to safe his sons, oposed to lorgar who was outraged at future that was not.

Morty's slightly more approachable in that his motives are viewed as somewhat more *selfless*, compared to the somewhat more *self-centred* motives of lorgar)

On lion forest walking and corvus;

OK, from what I understand the lion's forest walking thing is just him able to enter the warp, but with a caliban flavored aesthetic because lion's the one perceiving things and the warp (made of emotions, dreams ambitions works on *concepts*) accommodates.

Corvus would probably want to keep an eye(s because he's more warp entity then primarch at that point) on lorgar. He'd probably have an easier time just shadowing (no pun intended) lorgar on his quest of the truth (lorger during the time he's still a deamon prince and given hints of a vision from emps), as oposed to having to actually track down lion in the warp (neddle in a haystack essentially).

I think corvus might prefer to stay independent from the Imperium (not join emps, because emps is very much both a god-but-not and in the end a *tyrant*, something corvus very much doesn't gel with), but would assist if called upon. He takes on something of the role of a guidance counsel in regards to lorgar (emps puts corvus on the task, but corvus was planing to do that *anyway*)

Lastly, a point in general;

With Angron dead, Morty and Lorgar turned turncoats (and Corvus being Imperium-aligned), this puts chaos at a pretty *severe* disadvantage.

(Chaos; Fulgrim [EC], Perty [IW], [WB], [NL], (AL), [BL/SoH], Magnus [TS] = 10

Imperium; Guilliman [UM], Lion [DA], Mortarion [DG], Lorgar, (Corvus) [RG], [S], [IF], [IH], [SW], [WS], (AL) = *15*)

This isn't just a numbers issue *either*;

Without morty and Angron that's two chaos gods without a deamon primarch(prince), in *addition* to the knowledge morty and Lorgar have on chaos that the imperium can use to it's advantage.

That doesn't only mean strategic advantages but also a loss of *faith* in chaos

(also from an in universe, meta perspective the imperium is seen as *winning* and the warp *thrives* on meta.

That's going to weaken the influence of the chaos gods as a *whole*, but also *specifically* Nurgle and Khorne. In turn this actively *strengthens* the Emporer, who can more easily intervene because of this)

And as fun as it is for our little guys to win for once, we need to even the playing field.

(Wouldn't really be 40k if the Imperium isn't bearly skidding by *just* by the very skin of their teeth you know)

[I also had this whole spiel about how chaos makes for an excellent *personal* antagonist.

Because corruption is very *intimate* and there's a whole spectrum of motivations for *why* a person can be corrupted (Erebus to Archillies) and whilst there is a ton of other foes for the Imperium to fight, a guardsman Turing traitor for the tau vs getting corrupted by *chaos* will always just hit different [*literal* alien life form vs actually *eldritch* abominable]

The closest a faction gets to that aspect are the gene steelers, but there it's more about *generations* as oposed to actual *individuals*]

[I would like point out that i didn't set *out* to give khorne and Nurgle replacements, but it kind of just worked out that way!

Also this is very much playing on the seductive, manipulative nature of chaos]

Then I remembered that fun little tidbit about how Russ vanished trying to find the fruit of life, in an effort to restore the emperor to life.

The fruit of life which is theorised to be related to Isha (eldar goodness of healing), or located to be within nugles garden.

So, say Russ actually managed to find and gain entrance to the Garden but he has been lost within it's maze like depths.

Russ is stubborn and above all *loyal* but in the face of a *god* he is but a man.

It begins with small things (wispered hints about clues if only he would listen during moments of respite, the last words of some corrupted wretch who despite everything still clings to it's former self before he cuts them down) and slowly but steadily increases over time.

And Nurgle has all the time in the world.

Russ knows this, for as much as he excelled at playing the brute he is far more *intelligent* them many would give him credit for. Thus he decides to pick his battles whilst he still *can* and makes a *choice*.

The fruit of life safly delivered to the Alfather to restore him to life in exchange for Russ' loyalty and soul.

Nurgle -gladdended by a plan coming to fruition and the prospect of another child to embrace his ways- eagerly agrees.

The bargin is *struck* and all comes to pass as was agreed upon.

The fruit is delivered within the emperor's very own throne room and would indeed restore the emperor back to life.

However; such would be life by the definition of an alien god. Who does indeed love all his children equally, but does not differentiate between a microbe and a human.

Russ for his part knows only that his journey is at it's end, glad to have sentenced himself to an eternity of damnation if it means the Alfather restored to life.

(Ok, so in my mind russ knows everything within the garden is corruption itself, so he basically subsisted of off stubbornness and pride, still alive *only*, because his nature as a primarch allows him to draw on the warp.

At some point he falls into a bog and has to crawl his way out on hands and feet. During which he turns into a bit of a bog mummy [complete with red hair; a nod to the old red haired russ designs], not yet *fully* mummified but *definitely* on his way towards one.

After he strikes the bargin he turns into a full bog mummy but with tons of moss and other wet land plants growing on him

[Growth and renewal as oposed to morty's theme of death and decay)

Basically he turns into something akin to mummified ganondorf from the second breath of the wild game in terms of looks [id reccomend watching a trailer for extra spooky] but with more plants.

At this point the SW in general, but especially any of the Rune priests (SW version of spykers) feel a *disturbance* in the force. And even without a stomach Bjorn the Fell Handed, get's the phantom feeling of a sinking feeling in his gut, like something is seriously *wrong*. This actually awakens him and spooks whoever happens to be close by.

The emperor for his part sees the fruit, puts the pieces together what his loyal son *did* and orders the caretakers to relocate the fruit to the vaults beneath the imperial Palace [the place he keeps everything powerful and dangerous enough that he doesn't want people to have.]

Russ himself even post bargin isn't just going to become a deamon prince or champion, no that needs to be something he *ears*, but the influence Nurgle has on him now could make it so that Russ might one day become that.

[For the purposes of this au let's say he won't, but in the event of the emperor's *return*(to life) this might be reconsidered.])

After Russ I *also* remembered a comment under a YouTube video discussing the possibility of Dorn's return.

The commenter wrote that a returned Dorn would be *disgusted* by the state of the current Imperium and want nothing to do with it. Then they went on to write, that they would want a returned Dorn to play into the disgruntled soldier aesthetic.

So let's do just that.

Rogal was last seen fighting abord a traitor ship during M31 and is presumed to be dead or missing. [YMMV but I'm going with the version of him missing with only his hand recovered (in posession of the IF and treated as a chapter relic)]

So, say he's been fighting all this time, pherhaps alongside a small group of various individuals,

(human or otherwise, because frankly, if there's *deamons* the actual *alien lifeform* isn't so bad now [at least *those* actually *stay* dead when you kill them))

fighting to surrive, to pherhaps some day get out of here (warp) and back into the *realspace* itself.

(You wish and you shall receive)

During a long winded conflict, Rogal Dorn and his Companions actually manage to enact a highly dangerous plan with a great chance of failure that let's them transition to realspace successfully!

They are out!

Except they are confronted with a large scale battle in which they are immediately forced to defend themselves from because the vessel they arrived in happened to be of xeno orgin.

After another harrowing conflict that they managed to escape with their lives only by the very skin of their *teeth*, they take refuge in what for all intents and purposes is a pirate heaven (xenos and human).

They have but a moment to breath before they are pressganged into joining one of the many pirate crews.

Dorn, for the sake the Companions who he has surrived and fought alongside with bears this though unhappily, for truly, this is still an improvement in comparison to the horrors they faced in the warp.

They once again bide their time, adjusting to existing within the materium once more. Taking a moment to just finally *breath* and truly take in that they are *out*.

However what is harder to adjust to is the sheer *cruelty* and *inefficiency* they encounter at every point. Dorn, who still remembers a time when enlightenment and reason where the bulwark of the Imperium takes this the hardest.

But they endure for they cannot do anything else.

They slowly work their way up the ranks, the resourcefulness and craftiness as well as the bond of their little band shares not going unnoticed (as well as primarch charisma).

After long enough that their time within is not so fresh anymore they, though a combined of stubbornness, competency and sheer *reasonableness* gained enough connections and loyalty to take the heed of their very own small fleet.

They set out determined to bring about the future Dorn remembers he must have laid the foundations for.

Yet whilst they succeed in some minor endeavours, many more times they are stymied and undermined at every point. Where they go to offer aid on one front, three others are over run.

An ambush from an ally who has no choice but to betray them.

A corrupt offical taking more then his cut and thus forcing good men and women to turn to more desperate means.

The incompetence of an overseer which sees those in his charge make mistakes and face punishment as a result.

Warfronts that begin to resemble mass graves rather then battle fields because of the delayed survival of supplies.

Dorn -stalwart, reliable, *patient* Dorn- may have a long memory and hold the might of a primarch but there is only so much he will take before he decides 'enough is enough' and turn to more drastic measures, because if every attempt at employing reasonable means *fail*, unreasonable means *will* be taken.

He is a builder and he knows sometimes the only way is to tear everything to the *ground* and build *anew*.

(Ok, imagine the competence and reasonable attitude of caiaphas cain, but with the luck of the lamenters mixed with general 40k nastiness.

And dorn in this embodys the last part of the proverb; 'there are three things all wise man fear; the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man.

Whilst i wouldn't nessecarily describe Dorn as gentle per say, he is someone who's honest, patient, competent, reasonable and *compassionate* who tries to do the right thing in a time that, more often then not, actively *punishes* that.

And whilst he is stoic this doesn't make him unfeeling, moreso akin to a very deep still lake.

He tried for a *very* long time, but at some point even he recognises he's fighting a lost cause.

[A bit like a child who is outraged to discover that the world is cruel, but instead of accepting that, he is determined to change things so the world *becomes* kind, like the way he *knows* it can and *should* be.]

Khorne in this, would *love* to have Dorn as a deamon prince. Because in a universe as cruel as 40k, Dorn will never run out of things to *fight* [a fundamental clash of interests].

So whilst he knows Dorn would never make a pact with him (knowingly), that isn't going to stop Khorne.

Whilst he *prefers* a good, straightforward fight, this doesn't mean he can't be either underhanded or patient. He is a god of *war* and as they say, 'all is fair in love and war'.

So, khorne's been taking a page out of thzeench's book and working things from behind the scene, organising the pieces so that Dorn for the most part only sees the worst of things in all of their ugly, cruel, petty *glory*.

And he doesn't ever have to interact with Dorn (directly) to slowly turn him on his side either.

Have some wretch inform Dorn of some injustice or another with a sufficient target on the other end, and Khorne doesn't even need to lift a finger to point in the direction.

Khorne cares not from whence the blood flows, only that it does.

[In general, Dorn doesn't ever become a propper *worshiper* of chaos (deamon prince or otherwise) but he battles and that's enough for now.

Dorn wants to tear down *everything* and rebuild from the *ground* up. (Bit like how the emperor might [if he hadn't been put on the throne that is])

Looks wise Dorn rocks a beaten down uniform and pieces of something that *migt* at some point have been part of his armour; a mishmash of whatever they managed to get their hands on and because of all of the fighting he's become very lean and unkempt, like he doesn't take care of himself (his Companions *try* but there's only so much you can convince a stubborn demigod to *listen*) and doesn't sleep (primarchs can *theoretically* function on no sleep, but that's going to have an effect)])

Got an angsty idea:

-In Short-

Yandere ultramarines binding/caging/disabling Guilliman at all costs for his own safety. Even if they must hurt him, even break him to do it. No more fulgrim/mortarion incidents.

-In Long-

Basically, what if after witnessing his reckless personal behavior towards personally fighting his brothers and his "death" at the hands of fulgrim as well as his LITERAL death at the hands of Mortarion (regardless of the fact he was brought back, he fucking DIED), the Ultrabois just fucking go full Yandere and try to keep him out of battle and under watch as much as they possibly can to ensure his absolute safety from ANY harm, even himself? And what if this desire, this NEED to keep their primarch, their FATHER, safe went to the extreme as he inevitably tried to get back to business, including personally fighting? He's a primarch after all, weapon first, human second, and his duty is to guide and safeguard the Imperium...

My brain basically had an idea of a gilded bird-caged and bound Guilliman and spun a background around it. Some mental images even include a blindfold and gag for the Ultrabois benefit cuz you know Guilliman's words are some of his best weapons (best way to talk them out of it- to a point).

Very OOC, I know, but with the way the Ultrabois were willing to die in droves to get him away from fulgrim as he was dying AND to protect his stasis before his revival, it seems it could very easily become a possibility via Slaaneshi influence, Lord of Excess and all...

GOD I wish I could draw bodies or write 😭

[starlightshadowsworld]

Chuuatsu where Atsushi doesn’t take losing his ability in Dead Apple well and Chuuya comforts him.

Chuuya wakes up realising that his bed is empty. He would roll back over and go back to sleep but he has a bad feeling.

So instead Chuuya gets up and surveys his flat.

His hope that Atsushi might’ve just gone to grab a glass of water or something die when he hears crying from the bathroom.

Now, Atsushi was a rather sensitive soul and it was something Chuuya loved about him greatly. But in all the time Chuuya had known him he’d never seen Atsushi cry.

He’d seen Atsushi lose limbs and bounce back without so much as a wince.

So suffice to say Chuuya was worried now. The bathroom door wasn’t locked but he stoped himself from barging it open. He knocks lightly “Atsushi, are you okay?“ It felt dumb asking because clearly he wasn’t but what else do you say?

“Somethings wrong…” mumbled Atsushi, his voice hoarse as if he’d been screaming. Chuuya frowned “whats wrong love?” His heart sank at Atsushi’s whispered “me…”

Did he have a nightmare? Is that was this was about?

“Atsushi, there’s nothing wrong with you.” Says Chuuya softly. He hears a sniffle, and what he assumes is Atsushi shaking his head. “I’m wrong…I’m wrong.” He repeats like a mantra over and over.

Chuuya knocks on the day again in the hopes of getting Atsushi’s attention back on him. “Can I come in?”

“Please…”

It takes all of Chuuya’s self restraint to not blast the door off his hinges. He practically throws it open and kneels beside Atsushi who’s curled up on the cold tile floor.

He looks haunted.

“Hey tiger” he says lightly and relaxes just a little bit when Atsushi looks up at him with clear eyes. At the very least he doesn’t seem to be hallucinating.

“No tiger.” Says Atsushi shaking his head and wrapping his arms tighter around him. “No tiger…it’s gone.”

Chuuya frowned but then he remembered the meeting the Port Mafia had yesterday.

He looked over at the window and shes enough there was a bright red fog outside.

As if hearing his thoughts Atsushi piped up “I had a bad dream and I didn’t want to wake you so I went out for some fresh air….” He was shaking all over and the cold tiles weren’t helping at all.

Chuuya softened.

“It’s not your fault. Whatever sick fuck released that thing is to blame not you.”

They’d talk about Atsushi being very okay to wake him if he wasn’t doing great but that could wait to later.

For now, with his permission Chuuya gently picked Atsushi off the bathroom floor and took him back to bed. Atsushi’s eyes were shut in agony and he was clinging to Chuuya like a koala.

His boyfriend only held him close and wrapped the blanket around them both. “It hurts…” whispers Atsushi into the others shirt but Chuuya heard him clearly.

He ran a hand through Atsushi’s hair and smiled sadly when the other leaned into the touch.

Somehow even losing the tiger he was still rather catlike.

It made sense though if the boss lost his ability he would act like any other non gifted. But Atsushi was a weretiger, to lose the tiger was like having himself ripped apart.

Had the Agency not warned him about this? He’d be having words with them later if not.

For now Chuuya kissed his beloveds head and rubbed soothing circles into his back. It wasn’t a pain he could relieve for him. But he did his best to keep him comfortable.

The way Atsushi described it made him feel ill. Having your soul torn apart, your own body not feeling your own. Physically Atsushi looked the same but he wasn’t.

It was a feeling Chuuya knew all too well and would never wish on his lover.

Atsushi had suffered more than enough already and whoever did this was going to pay for it dearly.

[npookie0]

Hi hi feel free to ignore this ask since it's kinda boring but I was wondering if you could write headcanons of the Lis with a reader that DESPISES summer like the heat and all the bugs that come out they absolutely hate it and thank you for all ur hardwork on ur fics I absolutely love them !!

Heat Hater

I'm so glad that someone wants to read headcanons about me <3 / j

Killer Chat Love Interests x mc who hates summer

Emo Olympics :

He very likely hates it too, he can't wear most of his sick sick emo clothes and black clothes + sun are not like us, they're not a great couple

My man doesn't really give a fuck about bug but since you hate them so much he will buy a restock of bug spray because the one he owns is half empty and five years old

Ronin takes a water for you everywhere and gets your ice cream whenever you get out

"Awh? Can't take a lil heat? Yeah, same here, let's get outta here before we end up like boiled eggs." He probably has a fan in his room and that fan is the main attraction in his room for the two of you when summer is around

She Bites :

She gets you on the bugs, especially mosquitoes, she has to be super careful so they don't bite her, spray for insects is her best friend and she uses it on you too 'just in case'

A hot woman is not afraid of some heat!! Also what's the difference between five hundred studio lights and the sun? Both are bad for her and both make the places she's in unbearably hot. Luckily because of that Angel has ways to make the high temperatures more bearable

Sunscreen is your new best friend now too. "Listen you my not care about the UV light during the winter, but now you HAVE to use this, okay baby? Great."

"It's too warm? I know love, we can go back to my place, I have AC so we won't die of overheating there."

Whimsy Pal :

No magical ways on dealing with the hit, you both suffer and hate it, the trailer's floor is surprisingly cold and you two occupy it like your life depends on it.

Ice cream for breakfast, lunch and dinner, because keeping cold is important.

You two just run away from the bugs and fight them in their trailer if they intrude

"I hate it too honey trust! But we'll survive... somehow..." You mostly get out at night because it's not that bad anymore

Rich Guy :

V has a whole pool in that house I can bet and if not then he just takes you to a pool very often so you can a) spend some active time b) not die in heat (if you don't like pools then i'm sorry but i like them <3)

Sunscreen, sprays for insects, sun glasses (good quality ones) and clothes that won't make you suffocate in the weather. He has it all prepared, when did he do all that? No one knows, but at least you'll survive the heat without needing to worry about it

The heat doesn't bother him as much ("as a vigilante i need to be able to survive every weather condition" ahh) but he is always ready to change plans if the weather is too much for you

"Remember to hydrate, it may be hard, but if you really want the heat to be less troublesome then drink a lot." You've never drank more water and cold drinks in your entire life

They're a little silly, I hope that it's not too silly !!

meow meow

bai bai

love ya

nate <3

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Traitors & Lovers (Hero & Villain) part 16

Warnings: alcoholic hero, villain calling him out on it, deep discussion talk, lots of romantic tension and conflicting emotions in this one, hero getting mildly drunk as a coping mechanism

Today had taken everything out of her. But at least the painkillers were finally starting to kick in, taking the edge off her suffering, and sleep followed not long after.

-------------------------------------------------------

Villain didn't get very much rest -- she knew that because she awoke at midnight, according to the clock perched on the nightstand. And she couldn't fall back asleep after that, tossing and turning restlessly, and haunted by dark thoughts and conflicted emotions.

She decided to give up when 3:15am came around, and resolved to wander to the kitchen to get a snack before trying to sleep again to see if it would help settle her nerves enough to let her get some rest. But as she padded through the house, she heard a quiet cough, and when she followed the sound... she discovered Hero, fully awake like she was and sitting on a stool-chair at the island counter in the middle of the kitchen.

And... to her shock, there was a wine bottle next to him, and he was nursing a glass full of it in one hand. Looks like he couldn't sleep either.

He was facing her, but not acknowledging her presence, staring dismally down into his wine, though he visibly stiffened when she approached.

"Since when do you drink?" Villain asked gruffly, and couldn't quite keep the surprise from her tone.

Hero wouldn't meet her eye.

"Since you left," he reluctantly admitted. "I only do it on the worst days though. Helps numb things. I'm not a consistent alcoholic or anything, not that you'd care."

Villain felt an unwanted prick of guilt poke her gut before she angrily banished it.

"And today counted as a 'worst day' for you?" She ventured, prodding.

Hero shrugged half-heartedly, and Villain didn't miss how he suddenly tensed up, his gaze darting over to the mahogany table nearby that was still stained with Villain's blood. The table itself had been cleaned, but the reddish hue the wood had taken on would be permanent.

"...Couldn't sleep," he mumbled. "Kept thinking about how I found you on the road the first night. It's stupid, I know, but it just... scared me, that's all. To think you were dead."

Villain knew him well enough to know when he was trying to brush her off and change the subject. She could tell she'd hit a raw nerve.

She found herself gravitating toward the island counter Hero was seated at, pulling up a chair for herself on the opposite side. And making the intentional distance well-known.

Hero sighed, shoulders slumping. "Do you want a drink too?" he offered wearily.

"On any other day I'd say no, but... I could use one too. To numb things," Villain whispered.

They both knew what she meant.

Hero got up and grabbed a second glass, filling it with wine and sliding it across the counter to her without a word.

Villain didn't say a word either, accepting the drink and savoring the burn of alcohol in her throat as she sipped it slowly. The pain was the good kind -- the kind that reminded her she was still alive, despite what she'd been through.

She glanced over her glass of wine at Hero, who was staring off into nothingness, lost in his head. He looked terrible -- dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes, and a deeply haunted look in them. Hair messy and unkempt, like he'd been constantly running his fingers through it.

Maybe he had.

Part of Villain hurt to see him so stressed and in such mental agony -- an old part of her that refused to die, no matter how many times she stabbed it trying to destroy it. Why did she have to keep feeling like this??

She didn't love Hero anymore... so why did it hurt to see him suffering, even if she wanted him to suffer?

The silence stretched between them, long and awkward and full of unspoken words and heartbreak.

Villain was the first to break it, clearing her throat quietly. A nagging thought kept bothering her, and she just had to know...

"Did you ever even... think about me? When I was gone?" She asked cautiously. It felt like walking on thin ice, to risk bringing up the past. Like she was one wrong question away from falling through into the frigid waters below and being swallowed up by despair.

"All the time," Hero whispered hoarsely, voice hollow and dull. "I couldn't not think about you. I have many regrets in life, Villain, but betraying your trust was the biggest one of all."

He rubbed a hand over his face, sighing heavily. "I wish I could fix it, but I can't. All I can do is... try to move forward."

"Like this?" Villain raised an eyebrow and scoffed, gesturing meaningfully with a hand at his haggard appearance and the bottle of wine beside him. "Drinking to avoid your problems? That doesn't seem very 'Hero' of you. And it's going to come back to bite you one day -- hard."

Hero shot her a glare, but there wasn't any real venom behind it. "What do you know about it?" He growled. "You ran away from your problems. So you're one to judge.”

Villain winced. Point taken. But it didn't mean her words weren't valid -- she knew from experience the consequences of avoidance after three years of being elusive and on the run once she left Hero. All the guilt and grief she'd been burdened with.

She hadn't expected Hero's raw confession, though, that he had thought about her when she disappeared. It complicated what she was feeling inside. And she didn't like that.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @written-in-the-stars135 @neverthelass

@starz8nk @redwinesupanover @whumpisgoodwhumpislife @theforeverdyingperson @whatwhump

@writing-with-olive @and-we-shake-the-iron-hand @art3m1zz @enigmawriteswhump

[kiwisandpearls]

I think my previous post was very harsh but I still stand by what I said so here’s a less harsh version:

I understand people who say madoka betrayed homura by becoming god and “fumbled homura” in a way. But I don’t at all agree and I think it’s a giant misunderstanding of all the events that played in madoka making her wish and one of the main points of madoka magica as a whole.

madoka, at a heart, is someone who wants to help others. She’s inspired to be a magical girl by seeing Mami save and comfort people. And when remembering the truth of what being a magical girl in tales it fuels her final wish of making sure magical girl don’t have the suffer of becoming a witch. Not only that, but even if madoka didn’t make her wish, if homura repeated time again then she’d just continue to suffer a worse and worse fate the more homura would try to save her. Either that or homura would’ve just witched out and potentially destroyed mitakihara city along with walpurgisnacht.

there would’ve been no perfect ending for madoka nor homura, so madoka just decided to pick the one with best outcome. An outcome where homura gets to live not constantly to worry about saving madoka and defeating walpurgisnacht and an outcome where magical girls can rest peaceful instead of becoming witches. Maybe it was a betrayal of everything homura did but what else could she have done? Would madoka just letting homura either die as a witch or repeat the vicious cycle of hopelessly trying to save madoka somehow be better because it isn’t a betrayal for homura?

not only that, but she didn’t take homura isn’t magical girl heaven just because, she did so because homura wasn’t even at the point of becoming a witch. She was getting there, sure, but she was not fully there like sayaka was by the end of episode 8 or like she (homura) was by the end of rebellion. So she quite literally couldn’t have brought her into magical girl heaven if she wanted to.

this also feels like some people have missed that one of the main points of madoka magica is that the suffering of the main girls cannot be fully put on the each other but rather kyubey. He was the one who manipulated them into becoming magical girls. He was the one who lied to them by omission about what being a magical girl was like. He is at fault for why they have to do what they do.

[myreia]

I have... so much I want to say. So much I could say. idk I can't get my thoughts together yet, but having seen both endings (and knowing which one I gravitate towards the most for personal reasons), I think the most powerful thing about Clair Obscur is perspective.

spoilers below

If we had followed the Dessendre family from the very beginning, this would be a different game. A different story. Throwing the player into a world wracked by grief and loss, where death is inevitable and quickly approaching, where the years you can be alive are shrinking rapidly year by year, and yet Lumière is alive with people who continue on even in the face of suffering.

The game makes us care. We live and die with them, we continue on with them. We're surrounded by the remains of previous Expeditions, the people who carried on in an attempt to stop the cycle of death and loss. From the perspective of the people of this Canvas, the Dessendre family are likened to gods—almost Greek-like in their flaws, and how little concern they have for the people of this world as they aren't "real"—for whom this world is a playground for them to process their emotions. But from another, this painted world is the very thing that allows their self-destructive behaviour. The Dessendre family is addicted to their grief, and the Canvas facilitates their inability to move on.

But from the perspective of the "real" outside world, the Dessendres are just a family. A family of painters who have been torn apart by the death of their son and brother, and who are coping with it in their own ways and on their own time, and dangerously so.

Maelle has lived in both worlds; she should have the perspective of both. And yet, I don't think she does—she has a third perspective, her own. By the end of the game, I wasn't feeling like she was a daughter who had grown up and was showing her father how he was in the wrong. I felt like she had almost regressed, allowing her own grief and her fear of living a life outside the Canvas—one where she believes she doesn't have a life at all because of her disfigurements, but we don't actually know that for certain—to consume her and re-emerge as selfishness.

The moment at the top of the Reacher, where Maelle kills Alicia before Verso can say goodbye—where she didn't even think about the fact that she was killing his sister, where she didn't even consider that he may have wanted to say goodbye—she just does it with no consideration. Even though she acted on Alicia's own request, I think Maelle was only really thinking of herself. This was when I began to think that Maelle was exhibiting the same level of self-centeredness as the rest of her family. It almost feels like she's regressing, and maybe she always had been since Gustave was taken from her. She's no longer a citizen of this world, she is a Paintress. Her presence in this world will always be unbalanced in her favour because she can make it that way.

And I think this is why Maelle's ending is so unsettling to me, despite the fact that everyone in Lumière remains alive. Characters we love come back, people who died are restored—the people of this world have a chance to actually live. But do they? Can they ever actually live with a Paintress in their midst, who could shift their perspectives, their thoughts, their feelings, or unmake them on a whim?

Verso begs her to unpaint him. This is not a life he wants, and yet he's trapped in it, he doesn't have the power to exert influence over his own life. He's lived so long with the inability to die, a shade of the real Verso who can never be the real thing, who wants desperately to move on more than anything else (I think this is why it's important for him to be the player-controlled character at camp in Act 2 and Act 3; it feels like there's a thematic reason why we never control Maelle in Act 3 like I assumed we would before starting the act). He begs her to help him. And she doesn't—because living the life that was stolen from her is more important than letting him go.

And to be fair here, Verso is also being selfish. He wants to die, he wants his family to let go of him, and he will sacrifice a whole world to do so.

Whose wants and needs are more important when those desires are in conflict? Who deserves it more? What do you respect more—the wishes of others, or the needs of yourself? It depends on your perspective.

Maelle's ending should be the happy one. Everyone's back! Everyone can live! But do they? Can they? I don't know. I don't want the Canvas to be destroyed because I care about the people of Lumière—they are real, they deserve a chance to live. I want Lune to live, I want Gustave and Sophie to have a chance, I want Sciel to reunite with her husband. But I don't know if this is the way. I don't know if they can when a Paintress lives with them. But I still don't know if this is the right choice since it represents an inability to accept and move on. Maybe the golden ending would have been for Maelle to leave the Canvas but not to destroy it, so the people of Lumière can live and she can move on, but that's not what we are given. Grief is an addiction, and the Canvas is its drug. Renoir makes it abundantly clear that keeping it around is only going to drag them all back again.

I saw someone comment on a YouTube essay about this game that Maelle's ending is the one they feel compelled to reach for because of their escapist fantasy-loving heart, and that's exactly why they shouldn't. Verso's ending, to me, represents that acceptance. It's the harder choice, it's the sadder choice, it's raw and heartbreaking and unfair. I love the difference between Sciel and Lune here—Sciel who vanishes slowly, sadly, but in quiet acceptance of her fate, and Lune who is ready to rage and yell and fight the unfair inevitability of it all, and she goes out staring death in the eye. It's an impossible choice, but it's the one that breaks the cycle for good.

Maelle's ending is the kind I want to reach for naturally when I'm feeling down and lost and want an escape. When I want to be lost in a fantasy.

Verso's is the kind I reach for when I need actual closure and hope for the future.

And it's all a matter of perspective.

[batcavescolony]

Katniss is such an unreliable narrator. She says "Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me" girl you deliver strawberries to the Mayor, you hunt and trade for the district, when you fell at Prim being chosen someone caught you, when you went to Prim people parted for you, when you volunteered EVERYONE stopped. Idk how to tell you but I think you're a pillar of the community.

[tariah23]

The manga industry, especially JUMP, needs to hurry up and do away with weekly scheduling for mangaka. There needs to better regulations put into place for their health and safety because this is pitiful. Two weeks - monthly updates should’ve already been the standard for the manga industry at this point. These money grabbers will only continue to put the lives of these artists at stake for the sake of capitalism unless some serious changes are implemented.