#as well as HEAVY compensation for the victim

[swagging-back-to]

it should be a cut and dry case if you go to a restaurant and get glutened by them. and by case i mean criminal. not just suing for damages and distress.

[vampirevatican]

Milgram and The Court of Public Opinion.

this analysis will be about milgram's voting system, nuance and a whole lot of my own opinions mixed with eng fandoms translations, theories, and observations.

t1 = trial one / t2 = trial two

mv = music video

vd = video drama

voting and verdicts:

voting forgiven/unforgiven or innocent/guilty from the standards milgram sets for us (including es) isn't enough or easy.

being that milgram is set towards the court of public opinion and judgement can come from:

"sensibility, morality, ethics, legality, preference, taste, or sexual inclination..."

we end up arguing semantics, trying to find specifics in the crimes and making the best judgement possible. although in doing that the only conclusion anyone can come to is innocent when all is considered.

if we were doing it based on guilty and innocent then 5 are guilty, 2 are guilty on technicality and 3 are innocent

just in case you're curious, in guilty to innocent order as i just stated.

haruka, muu, amane, mikoto, kotoko, shido, fuuta, kazui, mahiru and yuno

it'd be over so quickly. but this... is milgram.

nuance/the grey area:

as the undercover song says, can you really judge them?

001. haruka did it for attention. with how he's coded - intellectual disability - and his mother being extremely neglectful after a certain age which prevented the possibility of his growth in intellect (understanding cause and effect/actions and consequences, along with many other things) it's easier to claim he's innocent. even more easier to forgive him due to this and extremely so if looking at it from his view point, albeit flawed. killing = attention = "affection", even if that attention/"affection" is negative it what he wanted. for someone, anyone to acknowledge him. he's innocent/forgiven because of his circumstances but if he's forgiven then he's being told it was his only option, and he was right, when the fault is on his mother.

002. yuno, as for now, doesn't have a reason. ofc in western (american specifically) public opinion or at least those who view abortion as a choice. she's been innocent from the start. this is her autonomy, her choice, even if she's 18. i won't deny she is so young to be doing sex work, or more specifically compensated dating, and yes it may be common in japan but that doesn't take away the age being factored into what she decided to do. it wasn't for money and she has a good home life. with how analytical and cold she can be, im assuming her desire to be loved in this way comes from somewhere and she's become jaded towards actual relationships. opting for the material and superficial. even without pitying her, she'd still be forgiven/innocent since t1.

003. fuuta was only trying to call out liars and scumbags. he is well versed in the court of public opinion, but he has never seen or experienced a result that lead to someone's death. looking at the undercover mv, then we can see he possibly doxxed his victim. if we take a nuanced approach here then we'd be looking at how he feels after the fact. he remembers the victims name, the fear in his eyes in his t1 and t2 mv, his voice drama after the first trial, him not approving of violence as a solution are all evidence of him feeling horrible. if he could go back, if he would've known. sure he did question why he's there instead of the people who actually killed the victim, but he also recognizes that he lead the charge. his innocence/forgiveness comes in the form of recognizing his actions were wrong. him being guilty/unforgiven is the action in itself.

004. muu is a love/attention reason. she's always been adored, admired, and cherished. she's always had her way. she also has never had to face heavy adversity. sure she was a bully, the queen bee, and a drama queen but didn't her school's culture allow her that? infact with us/es forgiving her, in the second trial song she claims as such, she'll always be queen. and for the t1 mv she says, "my 'im sorry' spells aren't working anymore." which leads me to believe that she's cried and apologized so many times that her old friends couldn't believe her. not forgiving her affirms to her that "two wrongs don't make a right" but forgiving her says the opposite to her. if she's to be forgiven/innocent the blame is tossed to the school, not her, but she won't see it that way.

005. shido is a love case, but for family. im thinking son because of a theory i saw, but either way when looking at it with nuance it gets heavier here. is taking from brain dead patients to save someone wrong? are the brain dead really dead? in my opinion yes, but that's the crux of the situation right? same goes for all the other inmates in this court of public opinion. he can be innocent from the view point that brain dead patients are already dead, and forgiven for his motive.

006. mahiru is another love case, romantic, and in a roundabout way she never committed a crime in the first place. from the voice drama and interrogation q&a slips, we find out that she's a sheltered girl and loves/idolizes soap opera and shoujo mangas. from her mv's we see she romanticizes everything, especially with her t1 mv. she's innocent because of not actually committing murder and forgiven because this is her first love, she wouldn't have known that it was toxic and messed up.

007. kazui did it in hopes of a dream, righting a mistake, being free. although he deeply regrets it, although he says he loves his wife? that love is mainly platonic. from his second trial mv, we see that he met her through his job - most likely police officer - so they had some kind of amicable relationship through their job. he only married her out of societal obligation, and noticing she liked him. not to mention in his t1 mv he says he messed up from the beginning. he is innocent because his crime is indirect, and forgiven because being gay isn't a crime and the regret he feels shows he never had negative intentions.

008. amane did it out of obligation. now, listen to me. i know she's literally 12 and was raised in a cult but notice how im stating the motive of each of these as they are from being stated in vd or pure observations from the mv's. now to any grown up it's self defense, but also imagine having gone through the worst hell imaginable all because you did something "wrong" stated by the adults around you. wouldn't the revenge be sweet? justice in its purest form. now take that and double it down with what you were taught. amane is not only forgiven/innocent because she was just a child, but because of the circumstances surrounding the murder.

009. mikoto (miko from here on) did it out of pent up stress an emotions, in turn creating john (koto from here on). miko is innocent without a doubt, and no i am not taking on the theory he actually did it til we get trial three. if koto was supposed to be his protector, and if he was born from a sudden explosion of pent up anger then (at least to me) it makes sense that he reacted the way he did. imagine being a corporate slave - no actually double it down, again, with growing up always trying to keep the peace. miko has a habit of laughing when he's upset. he laughs it off in hopes that things get better, his vd affirms this and even his mv after that. miko's smile that shifts to an extremely tired expression right before koto is born and a mirror shatters, right at the start. an intolerable stress from working so hard he grew grey hairs, cried himself to sleep, and yet continued to work, hold it in, and endure. the fault isn't on him or on koto. it's japan's work culture and the endure it mentality. koto is innocent/forgiven in the sense of motive. miko is innocent/forgiven because he's never killed to begin with.

010. kotoko did it to save the innocent. though she doesn't deal in nuance, much like fuuta. a key difference between the two is kotoko chooses violence because the justice system failed her. infact she's been hunting down the awful criminals of the world so much that she even has a covered bulletin board with pinned strings on it. on top of that, from the interrogation cards, we find out she dropped out of college and she was studying law. she'd be innocent for what she was seeking to do, in the court of public opinion, many would agree that awful people deserve a murderous punishment and she'd be even forgiven with that same reason. the nuance appears when considering the criminal, the crime and the reason. factoring those in then she can easily become guilty and unforgiven in the eyes of many, see the results after t1.

when it's all said and done:

they all had their reason, it all has a reason. who are we to say their crimes weren't just or fair? we're the judge, the jury, the executioner, and warden. in milgram whatever we says goes.

i'd love to see them all innocent, but at the same time do each of them deserve that? are their ideas being affirmed a detriment to them or their saving grace?? will they kill again?? will some of them be able to get the therapy and treatment they desperately need??? will they go back into society with an improved outlook on life or will they remain the same?

ofc i already have who i'd like to see forgiven and have already forgiven them myself, same as you reading this and those in the jpn fandom (where it originates)

anyway. moving forward please vote with this in mind, and check out the audio dramas i beg you all. i hope that there are nuance voters and voters with sympathy but with how amane was guilty in t1, i have a strong feeling it's not gonna end well. but if it does, you'll see me rejoice.

[somebluemelodies]

DAY TWO OF SPIDERBIT THEME WEEK STARTED BY @anonymous-dentist! :D SELECTED THEME: MURDER HUSBANDS (au slash something or other where purgatory happens later bc we were robbed of murder husbands plans) (i, uh… violence warning? murder husbands commit murder. i think this is one of the more interesting things i've ever written. you'll see why)

Their synergy is that of a well-oiled machine; quick yet eerily meticulous, like they’d done it together a thousand times already.

(Only one of them has. But the anger, the desire for blood and revenge from the other, is the perfect compensation.)

Their victims don’t stand a chance, one dropping to the floor right after the other with barely a chance to react.

The guard vaguely recognizes the man pinning him to the ground, whose arms are littered in scars new and old and whose clothes are stained with blood. A red and black dagger is held against its throat. They warned it, about this man. A potential threat, but not definitive.

Definitive, indeed.

The struggle only seems to make the man more pleased, laughing with a grin like the Cheshire Cat. The guard gets a few hits in with its baton, knocking him back, but he always comes right back, eager to fight. Eager to play. Eager to kill.

The other worker knows next to nothing about the other man dealing with it. But what’s more concerning is that they were wrong. There isn’t just one killer to be weary of. Since when was there two? Has it been two this whole time?

It’s this worker that’s the first of the two to go, the spider-hybrid above it playing no games with it, unlike his companion. The worker’s one and only attempt at self-defense is blocked with ease, and it watches as two extra sets of ruby red eyes open to stare at it, pupils as thin as needles.

(As if to say, you shouldn’t have done that.)

He strikes, and there are fangs piercing its neck. Immediately, it feels something coursing through its veins, numbing as its limbs feel as heavy as lead. The fangs are torn out of its white fur with no remorse, and the last thing it feels through coughing and sputtering is a spider leg piercing right through his chest. Digging.

And that’s that.

The guard sees it happen. And that’s the last thing it sees. Because the dagger that’d been shoved through its chest is pulled out and slicing against its neck, quick and efficient as it slumps to the floor, unmoving…

Cellbit climbs to his feet, lifting the dagger and swiping his tongue along the flat side of the blade, licking the blood clean off.

He watches Roier - his love, his husband - hold a heart without so much as flinching. If anything, the spider-hybrid seems just as pleased as he is, even if his expression is stoic, borderline angry.

(He knows how to read that man better than most people.)

Roier’s black sweatshirt is stained even darker still with fresh blood, hands covered in it too as he drops the organ carelessly, standing as well.

(Cellbit’s heart jumps, and he resists the urge to walk over, pulling him into a smothering kiss.)

It’s Roier who walks over to him first, finally smiling and looking evidently satisfied. Roier slips behind him, chin hooking over his shoulder, arms circling his waist as they both admire their handiwork.

“Que lindo,” the spider-hybrid murmurs.

The tone nearly sends a pleasant shiver down Cellbit’s spine. “Sim.”

Cellbit finally wheels around after a few moments pass, shoving his dagger away momentarily to cup Roier’s face and pull him into a bruising kiss.

His husband makes a surprised sound but immediately reciprocates, arms wrapping tight around his neck and deepening the kiss.

It tastes like blood; metallic and bitter and addictive.

(Cellbit’s heart hammers in his chest, and he’s never felt more alive.)

(Roier starts to understand the thrill, too.)

…

Two new bodies show up, mutilated and massacred as ever. But there’s a catch, this time. They don’t show up days apart; they appear on the same exact day, and the exact same place.

(And one of them is missing a heart.)

The dead Federation workers have been morbidly displayed on the quartz floor in front of the train station. Bloody symbols paint the pristine white floor crimson with another message, another clue.

Find it before we do.

Far away from the train station, in a tall, brooding castle on a hill, the island’s head investigator sits, carefully cleaning red off of his wedding ring as he and his husband strategize and plan out their next little date.

[calehenituse-brainrot]

Return

Cale Henituse | Kim Rok Soo x Transported!Reader

John meets the entity that have been asking for you, but with a cost.

content warning: violent stabbing, blood, choking on blood.

Deruth and Violan along with their kids stood in front of the mansion to greet their eldest child when they heard of him returning with the bodies of the victims. Violan let out a small gasp, hand covering her mouth when Cale got off his carriage, holding a soaking wet coat that she recognized all too well. After all, it was her that gifted you the coat, welcoming you as a part of the Henituse county back then. 

Cale approached his parents, holding the heavy coat and the hat that still has strands of your hair in it. Basen recognized the coat and hat, having had you wear them whenever you went out with him to have him learn under your wing to handle negotiations outside the duchy.  

"We could only find fifteen out of the seventeen victims," Cale reported, looking over to his father who looked defeated. "We couldn't find Captain John and [Name]."

All of their eyes drifted to the coat in his arms and Cale looked down as well. He looked up at his mother, the corner of her lips pulled down and eyes slightly glossy. "It's... all we could find of her out there."

"Oh, Cale," murmured Violan, placing a hand on her child's shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

Deruth feels ashamed of himself when he looks at his son. He glimmered with joy when Cale was born and looked so much like his mother instead of him and it destroys him when Jour died and left a son that will always remind Deruth of her because they looked so much alike. He couldn't face Cale back then and crumbled underneath his grief. Cale had just lost you after years of knowing and loving each other, having each other's backs knowing you both can always rely on one another.

Cale still stood with his head held high, holding the last part of you that the world had given him the mercy of having. He gets up and does what needs to be done, all by himself and doesn't rely on anyone else to take care of anything.

It's so out of place to see his son now, standing by himself with you nowhere to be seen.

"Why don't you and the kids go and--"

"It's fine," Cale cuts off. "I'll help with the funeral."

Deruth is a little happy that Cale was born and inherited Jour's good traits and none of his bad ones.

Deruth, Cale, Ron, and Hans took care of the funerals for the found victims first, handling the budget and also giving their families some money as comfort although they all know money could never replace a life. Ron found himself distraught at how familiar Cale was with sorting these things, working on them seamlessly, and even helping out Hans to deliver the news to the family as gently as possible, his words coming out almost robotic. A lot of money was taken out to pay compensation for the things lost at the sea though Deruth didn't look too fazed by the numbers Ron wrote after estimating the damages.

Cale did all of this while still going back to the sea with the search squad, hoping to find some hint of you. Rosalyn and Lock finally had the composure to join in, managing to find some of the things that had escaped your suitcase to bring back, a sense of closure overwhelming them all to know they get to keep something you once had. The kids came with him on the last day and resulted in nothing but despair that they had to return home without you, knowing that they have to return home and set up an empty grave for you.

Thankfully, some of your items in your room in the villa were still there, allowing the others to remind themselves of your presence whenever they wished to.

The one to frequent your room was Cale, staying for hours just sitting on your bed and not talking. The kids will accompany him, but most of the time, they see that he needed some time alone and process everything, so the most they'd do is peek at him from your doorway. Then there was Rosalyn, remembering the conversations you would have together in the room and your laughter and then there was Ron, who would come into your room to clean up although there was nothing much to do.

Perhaps thanks to that were the reason why no one shed any tears during your funeral. Everyone had already made peace with your death, especially Cale. The one to give out speeches were Deruth and a formal apology was delivered by Kore, the right hand of the captain for being negligent towards the weather, though it was obvious no one blamed her. Rosalyn stood next to Cale, seeing the man kept his gaze on your name engraved on a stone, face unchanging throughout the whole funeral.

"There was blood in her coat," Cale murmured to Rosalyn, eyes still at the shallow carve of your name on the stone. "She must have been the one to bleed to death."

Rosalyn's heart ached painfully and all she could do was let out a shaky sigh, recalling how Cale informed her how on the first day, a small area of the water was murky with blood but none of the bodies had any open wounds.

"At least she is no longer in pain," Alver says, standing by the other side of Cale, trying his best to ease the unsettling feeling of dread that sits within their chests upon knowing you did not go peacefully. 

Cale did not respond. A painful death was something he always wanted to avoid, hence all this trouble he took to make sure nothing could hurt him and his people, to eradicate all the danger the world could pose to them, but he had failed to remember that no matter how many ancient powers settled inside his flesh and bones, no matter the number of powerful allies he had made, and the many sacrifices he had done, death is inevitable and will always be painful.

The funeral comes to an end at some point – is it bad that he had stopped tuning into the whole ceremony? – and he realized that he must have been standing at the same place like a fool, staring at the carving of your name and holding onto the flowers he had bought on his way to the funeral.

He remembers that you don't have a favorite flower so he relied entirely on the florist to arrange a bouquet based on his request; "I am going to the funeral of a loved one."

The florist was of the Henituse duchy so with a solemn smile, they nodded and began picking out flowers and arranging them together. Cale did not miss how the florist is dressed in black, mourning over the many loss the duchy suffered.

"What kind of person are they? Miss [Name], I mean."

"Loved."

You were loved, not only by him but also by so many people that he silently hoped it was enough to make up for the fact that you didn't receive enough love from your past life. He hoped he have made you feel loved.

"Human?" Raon's timid voice calls for him, pulling him back into reality. He feels the tug on his trousers and remembered he was still standing in front of where you are supposed to be resting — it is empty, you are not there, and he will never find the comfort of having you here — and the kids were still by his side, waiting for him.

Everyone else must have left after seeing he made no move to leave himself. He's grateful that for once, people are feeling pity toward him. The world knows he needs some time alone.

Cale sees the abundance of flowers and trinkets left behind on your and Captain John's headstones. There were many more of those on both of your headstones, perhaps because both of them were empty graves and only serves as memorials. 

Cale got down on one knee, plucking one singular bellflower from the bouquet and then handing the bouquet to the kids. "Do me a favor and gift them to the other graves? We don't want the others to feel left out now, do we?"

The kids glanced at each other for a moment before they turned to look at him, nodding silently. Knowing Cale will need time, they head for the grave furthest away from yours, walking in threes as they decided that it would be better to be with each other instead of separating for now.

Cale turned to you, twirling the bellflower in between his fingertips. "It's a shame you left before we could sort out whatever it was between the two of us."

Cale sat down on the damp grass and ran a finger through the carving of your name, feeling every ridge of the stone as he spells out your name, knowing that if he called out for you now, he could no longer hear your voice, but it doesn't stop him from starting a conversation.

"Tell me, [Name]." Just a murmur of your name was enough to send a stinging pain into his chest. "Had I been more forward about my feelings to you, would it have made you stay?"

"Cale, don't do this again," pleaded the Super Rock. "Stop torturing yourself like this."

"I wanted to be with you," Cale continued. "And I think that's where I ruined things for us — for you."

Kim Rok Soo and Cale Henituse had many things in common – one of them is the fact that the world will always take whoever they loved, and another was that despite that fact, they have never once regretted loving that person.

"I'm sorry," he managed to whisper, placing the bellflower he had been twirling all this time on the smooth top surface of your headstone.

"I... love you."

The words come out flat, forced as if he couldn't bear to say them. The confession feels useless now that the object of his affection has died and he is speaking to an empty grave.

A dark talon appeared and carefully placed a white asphodel next to Cale's bellflower. The redhead looked up to see his kids, the three of them with solemn expressions as they stare at the headstone of their late friend. They have finished distributing the flowers to each grave as he asked them to, leaving the last flower for you.

"Good job," Cale praised them with a small smile.

Raon settled on Cale's lap while the two children sat on either side of him, staring at your headstone with flushed faces and red-rimmed eyes. 

"She's going to be all fine, wherever she is now," Cale reassured them, rubbing circles on Hong's back.

"Where is she now?" Ohn asked quietly, leaning towards Cale's side and gripping his coat. She feels like a child and she could not handle the thought of not being one, to shoulder the grief alone and be strong like the man currently being her pillar. 

"Somewhere peaceful," Cale answers. He doesn't believe in the concept of Heaven and Hell and he's not going to start now. "Somewhere we can't follow."

"I hope she's happy there."

Cale hums. "She's probably nagging at us right now for sitting on the grass with our good suits on."

The flowers lay limp on the cold surface of your headstone, slowly withering as each hour pass by with the four of them chatting together in front of your grave.

Weeks passed after the funeral. It takes time for everyone to adjust to the absence of you in the duchy but they got around it in no time and went back to work. 

Cale had begun to stay over at the Super Rock Villa instead of the Duke's estate a few days after the funeral, taking the kids along as they began to properly process their loss. Your death had affected their sleep, with the worst case being Ohn's constant midnight breakdowns whenever she had to face the fact that you are no longer alive.

It made sleeping difficult for Hong and Raon, so Cale had to set up a routine for Ohn and himself to walk around the villa and sit down in the drawing room to let Ohn talk about her feelings. She'll talk about you and her regret of not stopping you that night until she's tired and Cale would pick her up and tuck her in so she could have a comfortable night's sleep.

As for Cale himself...

"Cale-nim?"

Rosalyn pushed open the door of your bedroom, seeing Cale sitting on the chair of the small table you and Rosalyn would occupy to have tea and snacks. It is no longer a surprise for everyone in the villa to find Cale inside your room at odd times. He would sit inside with a candle lit on the table, casually reading your letters and other writings over and over again.

"Miss Rosalyn," Cale greeted, briefly lifting his gaze to look at the red-haired mage. "We meet again."

The two of them had been developing a bad habit of visiting your room whenever they were having trouble sleeping, though Rosalyn would say Cale's case was much worse than hers seeing as whenever Rosalyn would make a small visit to your room, she would always smell the scent of wax and smoke from the candle Cale always brings with him.

"We should start meeting like normal people," Cale continued, returning to your writings. "During daytime with proper lighting."

"Then it's best for you to head to your chambers, Cale-nim," Rosalyn says, eying how short the candle Cale has and how the wax that surrounds it has lumped into quite the size. He had been in here for a while.

"I suppose you're right." Without putting up a fight, Cale gathers the papers and lifts the candle holder, storing your letters back into your drawers. This only strengthen Rosalyn's suspicions that he had been here for a long time.

"Have a good night's rest, Miss Rosalyn," he murmured when he passed by her, not making a comment about the dark circles under her eyes and the way her face had sunken, no doubt the effects of grief.

The others find the time to visit and bask in what little trace you have to help them move on properly, but no one could defeat Cale's constant longing to be surrounded by you. He was the most frequent visitor of your room, going through your belongings simply to make sure they are still there — many worry it was becoming an obsession more than helping him heal.

Cage hears the click of your door for the first time today and pursed her lips into a thin line, sharing a look with the Sun Twins. Jack glanced up at the stairways, worry spread across his kind face while Hannah leans back to the couch, hands folded in front of her chest. They couldn't do much but let the man grieve, afraid of offending him if they were to try and have him stop visiting your room.

"Miss Cage."

Cage turned to look at the old butler, slightly surprised to see the man there. He fished out a sealed letter from the inside pocket of his vest, the wax that seals the letter bearing no insignia, but the handwriting that spells out Cage's name was enough for them all to know who was the sender.

"Miss [Name] instructed me to give this to you once things have settled down," he said while brushing down his vest. 

He initially wanted to deliver the letter after everyone had finally made peace with your death but by the looks and habits they've all been developing, Ron recognizes that it would be too long. He decided now that everyone was no longer in hysterics and was processing everything in their ways, it would be better to finally do your last wishes instead of holding onto them.

"What?" Cage asked, slightly spooked. "Did she know she was going to–"

"No," Ron answers, his voice slightly hoarse as he remembers your resolution to leave that night. "It would be better for you to read the letter she had left first before coming to me for anything you'd like to ask."

"Cage," Hannah calls, moving from the couch to sit beside Cage, Jack following along. "Open it"

Cage stare at your handwriting, her gut swirling with a feeling that made her want to throw up. She opens the letter and took out the paper inside, her heart immediately wrecking at seeing your handwriting. She wonders if this was what Cale feels whenever he reread your writings and if it was some sort of self-torture he does.

Cage focuses back to read your letter out loud for everyone in the room. 

In the letter, you confessed to feeling out of place and having no purpose after the war. You told her of the voices you had started to have in your head, urging you to leave them all and promising to lead you where you can find your purpose. Every time the voice speaks to you, you experienced heavy headaches and sometimes it was to the point of nosebleeds and nearly passing out.

"You might find me ridiculous for following a voice inside my head," Cage cited your letter. "But they sounded very familiar, like someone from my past life, and that frightens me. I suspect it is some type of God. Was it like this for you whenever you speak with the God of Death? It is very painful."

"During the day of the picnic, the voice told me to sail furthest away from the continent to find him. I find him, I find myself."

The extremely salty taste that lingers in his mouth and throat was the thing that greeted him when he was finally conscious. He opens his eyes and finally acknowledged that he was suffocating, chest filled with something that made him want to gag and throw up, so he did.

He coughs and forced himself to throw up whatever it was that was suffocating him and water spurts out of his throat and mouth in large quantities to the point he had to roll over and coughed them onto the sand to prevent himself from swallowing more water.

John dug his fingers into the warm sand and let himself cough out water until the weight on his chest lessen and he was no longer suffocating. Finally feeling better, he drops his back again to the sand and looks up at the bright sky. He stared at the floating clouds and the clear sky, needing a few seconds to process the fact that the pain in his throat and the sting of wounds around his body was enough proof that he hasn't died yet and this was not the afterlife.

He sat up, looking around the place he was in, figuring he must have washed up here, but for the love of Gods could not remember that an island existed close enough near the waters where the ship sunk.

John saw that the place he had washed up in did not have a beach that immediately connects to the sea, instead, the corners of the island had boulders and trees that curled up like a shallow bowl, sheltering him inside the island.

'How did I end up here?' John thought with a frown, looking around to see if there was a beach he could have missed but found more boulders and trees. In fact, the place seemed so green. There are trees, flowers, and moss growing nearly everywhere and John had half the mind to assume this must be an undiscovered island, seeing as everything was overtaken by nature.

Only then did he notice the sand that was beside him was slightly dyed red and it seemed something or someone had been dragged around until they got out of the sand deeper into the island, leaving a small trail of blood behind them.

John looks around the place once more before he followed the trail, his instinct screaming at him to go back and stay, but he continued walking. As he walks, the trees and hanging vines felt like they were beginning to close on him and he hurried his steps, walking until he came across an entrance of a ruin, the moss and vines that grows on the cobblestones ruining the structure. There are a few hanging vines that block the entrance like a small curtain.

John could see from the outside that the structure in front of him resembled a great hall of some sort, some of the roof destroyed and falling into it, sunlight striking the inside of the ancient hall to show John that the inside had a stone altar and a bundle of vines on top of it.

A hand slipped from the bundle of vines and John's eyes widened, now realizing that it was a body that was being dragged by the vines, half of its body hanging by the altar as they were being pulled to be placed on top of it.

A pale, familiar face and the [h/l] [h/c] hair was enough for John to rush inside.

"[Name]—!"

John rushed to your side, cupping your face with one hand and feeling the coldness of your skin, a grim reminder that you were simply just a corpse. He dug into the sheath strapped to his thighs and took out a knife. He cut away the vines surrounding you, not knowing what they were planning for you but he was determined to not have them desecrate your body.

It seemed with each vine cut, two more would grow and just as he was wondering what type of creature this was, he felt an excruciating pain in his back and chest. He gasped, clawing at the vine that had impaled him from the back, finding it ridiculously hard like steel. Blood spewed out from the corner of his mouth when thorns grew from the vine, doubling his agony.

"I knew you'd come."

The voice appears again in John's head and he realized in horror that they were brought here by the bastard.

"Y-you..." John tried to formulate his words but he dropped to his knees, tearing himself apart as the thorns damaged his stab further.

"You wouldn't bring her to me, so I had to do it myself," the voice continued, venom in its tone. 

John collapsed on the ground, one hand holding onto your arm. He leaned to the altar and began to feel himself choke on his blood. "N-no, [Name]—"

"Rest easy, my friend." 

John looked up to the destroyed roof of the ancient building, the sun blinding him and he could only think of how sorry he was to know Kore, his right-hand woman would not find his body and your own family's sadness to not find yours as well.

John's vision which had been blinded temporarily by the sunlight suddenly recovered and he realized that it was because something had blocked the sun. The vines have merged into forming a human-like silhouette that wore a hood, made entirely of thorned vines and flowers scattered here and there, its size similar to second-story inns.

"I've waited for so long." John could have sworn the voice speaks with so much more emotion this time as if they were holding back from saying too much.

The humanoid creature leaned down, a few tendrils of vine shooting out to your body.

"My daughter has returned to me."

[bthump]

What are your thoughts or analyses on the phallic imagery in berserk? Less so the more obvious ones like seen in Casca’s nightmares which are obviously pointing to her sexual trauma, but like we see with the vagina-esque monsters and how Guts’ sword is alluded to being like a penis in some cases. Sorry if it’s a weird question lol

Sorry for the wait on this lol, I was on vacation for a while, and it's also a topic I wanted to spend some time on because I love it and I wanted to be relatively thorough. Thanks for the ask!

So yeah, disclaimers out of the way, Freudian analytical theory is very silly, very gender essentialist in ways that can often be transphobic and misogynist, and as far as I'm aware pretty much wholly unrelated to real psychology. Back in the 70s and 80s you had film theorists who took it seriously as a genuine glimpse into the subconsciousness of humanity or whatever, but now it's pretty much just a readily available source of sex and gender related symbolism that's easy to understand.

And in Berserk I do genuinely think it's a valid lens to view the story through because Miura is often quite heavy handed in utilizing it as symbolism. I mean, Guts literally gives someone an orgasm by stabbing her at one point. Some of this can definitely be a stretch, taking established symbols and running with them, but some of it is also almost certainly purposeful. I'll leave it to you to decide what you see as legit and what you see as stretching believability here.

This is very long lol

So yeah, it starts off strong in Berserk with Guts' oversized sword. Swords are dicks, ie sources of masculine power, especially in Berserk

and in the context of the story the dragonslayer is Guts overcompensating imo. And it's not compensating for a small dick lol, which would be more the purview of comedy, but for a loss of masculinity, ie Guts' childhood abuse from Gambino, and rape trauma. It's about his need to prove himself because he was made to feel like he had to, imo.

And it's not just the size of his sword, his obsession with it is also a major factor. He has a grandiose speech about how his sword is like a part of his body (hmm) and that it's been at his side through everything and he's always relied on it. The dream he lands on is to be the best and strongest sword fighter ever. He's currently having a breakdown over not being able to hit someone with his sword. He has a recurring tendency to break other guy's swords lol. At one point Casca screams at him that he essentially cares about his sword more than her. etc etc.

In the story dreams are at odds with emotionally healing human relationships, and dreams are represented by swords (Guts' sword obviously, Casca becoming Griffith's sword, Griffith calling the throne a sword while taunting the king in the dungeon as well as his vision of himself throwing him a sword and pointing to the castle in chapter 72).

So through a Freudian lens, Guts' sword can also be said to represent emotional isolation, positioning masculinity as emotionally isolating. Which, yk, fits with Griffith also equating dreams and masculinity in his Promrose Hall speech (a man must achieve a dream before he can have a family or lover) and, I suppose lol, Casca getting "softer" and more feminine as she falls for Guts, as femininity is therefore the opposite: emotional reliance on and support of others.

So if swords are dicks, then it follows that wounds are vaginas, ie yonic symbols. Also pretty obvious when you read some of the lines during the Guts and Casca sex scene lol. "I too want a wound I can say you gave me." These can represent weakness and victimization (I did warn for misogyny lol) and/or (often sexual) relationships and emotional openness.

So you have the relationships - "licking wounds" with Casca; Guts letting Casca stab him when he thinks about abandoning Griffith; the Beast of Darkness calling Casca the wound Griffith left so Guts can keep feeling the pain Griffith caused; Griffith scratching his own shoulder where Guts' sword pointedly didn't wound him; Griffith being out of reach of Guts' sword post-Eclipse; "let's give him a heap of raw iron;" and Farnese grinding on Guts' sword while possessed and Slan directly treating being stabbed as sexual penetration for the most obvious examples...

Also I'd argue that any time Guts gets his ass kicked in a fight it functions as an echo of his rape trauma symbolically and subconsciously to Guts. Both kinda obviously at times, like eg when Slan overpowers him and tears off his shirt while wounding his chest, and kisses him after the stabbing, causing Guts to feel a burst of fear

or when Rosine stabs Guts through the mouth as another enemy who flirts with Guts mid-fight. And of course the first duel with Griffith in which Guts unilaterally sets the stakes to sex slavery because he's projecting.

But also a little more subtlely, such as when Zodd is given the same position as Nightmare Donovan in Guts' concussion nightmare after he kills Adonis, or all this consistent imagery that rapists and apostles tend to get.

Or, interestingly, the way the Berserk armour functions as self-harm as Guts fights by penetrating Guts to "heal" him.

Something that solidifies its hold over Guts and makes him lose more and more of his positive humanity to his urge to kill.

So yeah, from a Freudian angle I'd suggest that Guts is driven to fight to reclaim the sense of masculine power he was stripped of when he was raped, and every fight can be said to be a repetition of his rape trauma in which he (usually) successfully fights back, but also continuously retraumatizes himself rather than healing.

I'm going to delve a little deeper into how phallic and yonic symbols intersect with the characters' relationships now that we've outlined some of the preliminary symbolism, starting from the Golden Age.

The first duel between Guts and Griffith is rife with Freudian symbolism, very overtly. Griffith stabs Guts and then Guts proceeds to have a nightmare about his rape trauma. Then he projects that trauma onto Griffith when he assumes Griffith wants to fuck him and adds sexual stakes to their duel. Then, yk, he takes Griffith's sword into his mouth lol.

Griffith winning by dislocating Guts' arm can be easily taken as a symbolic unmanning/castration, nicely introducing us into Guts' three years of growth towards prioritizing relationships instead of aimless sword-swinging to prove himself. It's also suggestive of penetration when you're primed to look for sexual symbolism (and if Guts offering Griffith his ass and then biting a sword doesn't prime you for it, what does?):

And the two of them losing their swords in the course of the fight and resorting to unarmed combat can also be taken as a telling symbol of the conflict between dreams and their relationship with each other. They lose the symbols of their dreams and contend only with each other, in a more positive contrast to the second duel that ends their relationship, in which they fight only with swords and never touch each other.

Wounds come into it when Griffith nearly gets killed rushing in against Zodd to save Guts, leading to the most impactful moment of their relationship, where Griffith admits he did it solely for Guts' sake and had no other reason. Griffith also points out how wounded Guts is after that fight, in what I'd call a nearly flirtatious way:

And if you follow these symbols completely strictly this scene suggests Guts retreating into his defensive masculinity in his sword exercises after being defeated/emasculated by Zodd and accused of not valuing his personal relationships by Casca, and finally finding a new, more constructive purpose for his sword after Griffith essentially confesses his devotion to him.

Dedicating his sword to Griffith in return for the wounds Griffith suffered for his sake, with, it has to be noted when the topic is freudian symbolism, his sword held at exactly crotch level.

In the second duel Guts destroys Griffith's sword before leaving, a symbolic castration which is most likely intended to represent and foreshadow Griffith's subsequent loss of power when he throws his life away and ends up tortured in a dungeon for a year. More interestingly imo, is Griffith tracing scratch-markes on his shoulder after sleeping with Charlotte and while crying over Guts - the same shoulder Guts' sword didn't quite hit when he won the duel, drawing attention to the lack of a wound by Guts' hand, a wound he created himself and traces in his devastation.

You have a nice... I don't know what the comic terminology is lol so I'm just going to call it a match-cut here, with Griffith and Casca both getting penetrated by the same number of arrows/skewers, to signify Griffith and the Hawks' fall from power, in contrast to Guts' growing phallic power as he pursues his sword swinging. Power which he demonstrates when he returns and saves the Hawks and Casca and Griffith by swinging his sword a lot and defeating a lot of powerful enemies and, if I'm gonna be crass, healing Casca's suicidal despair with his dick lol.

Interestingly though, before he does that he lets Casca stab him while experiencing the guilt of having driven Griffith into a torture chamber by leaving. It's a wound that highlights his emotional connection to Griffith and vulnerability to those emotions, even as he tries to deny them. He then manages to successfully deny them for a little while longer after having sex with Casca.

In this Freudian context, Guts and Casca's sex scene is an affirmation of a relationship, but one which is emotionally uneven, with Casca ready and willing to emotionally rely on and support Guts, but Guts still dedicated to his sword-swinging dream, inviting Casca with him but only as long as she doesn't get in the way of what he wants to do. This does fit with phallic symbols being associated with emotional distance and yonic symbols being associated with emotional closeness lol. (Also fittingly, the one way he does open up to her is about his rape trauma after a flashback.)

It's worth noting that in this disconnect Casca erroneously assumes Guts fought the hundred men and "bled" for her, making her want "a wound" from him in return. Guts fighting those hundred men is much more reminiscent of his fights against apostles, the fights that revolve around replaying his rape trauma to make himself feel better. Casca assumes they already have an emotional bond due to Guts' wounds, but she's wrong - Guts specifically thinks to himself during the hundred man fight that he's not doing it for Casca.

This is reflected in the Wyald fight when Guts insists on fighting Wyald, again as part of the whole reaffirmation of masculinity thing I outlined at the start of this, when Casca just wants him to run away. The Wyald fight is pretty overt about being about Guts' rape trauma imo, moreso than most fights in the story. Wyald's rapiness is made a point of from Guts' point of view when he sees him wielding the torso of a woman sexually impaled on a pike and gets extra angry, and when he literally cuts off Wyald's dick when he's about to rape Casca, and then has his pointed line about needing to "settle the score with him... with them... by his own sword."

SO ESSENTIALLY to sum up this subsection, I think you can argue that what prevents Guts and Casca from being an equal relationship is Guts stlil being hung up over needing to prove his masculine power through sword-swinging, rather than embracing his emasculation (which, remember, tends to signify positive relationships in this context) and coming to terms with it ("immersing himself in sorrow" as Godo says much later.)

Like, to return to Griffith, it's fitting that after Guts destroys his sword and he goes through a year of torture and is thoroughly emasculated, he's able to recognize his feelings for Guts and understand that Guts is more important to him than the dream, the "sword called the throne."

But he doesn't quite come to terms with his emasculation either. This symbolism is one explanation for the wagon scene where he propositions Casca - a desperate bid for some form of power. Not the strongest explanation imo, but since we're currently in the business of actively looking for this symbolism, it definitely fits. Casca's rejection and pity reinforce Griffith's emasculation, and overhearing her tell Guts to leave again is the final straw. Relationships are a bust, swords are now his only recourse, as we see when he has a vision of himself throwing him a sword and pointing to the castle.

You could take the nightmarish vision he has of a life with Casca as Griffith rejecting emasculation, but an alternate way of taking it is Griffith regaining a form of phallic power, and the emotional isolation that goes with it. After all, it's implied that he has a child with Casca, while totally withdrawn and emotionally isolated.

I once said in a different silly essay that Griffith choosing the dream is, in a way, Griffith choosing another version that nightmare, and that take also fits here.

And hey, it's another reason for Femto to rape Casca lol, if we want to ascribe meaning there, and of course we must in this kind of analysis. In the wagon Griffith essentially offers sex to Casca for the faint vestige of masculine power it could give him (emotional isolation and a child); in his nightmare he imagines that life and it drives him to suicide; and after becoming Femto he forces sex onto Casca and then continues on to embody emotional distance and masculine power.

This power is painfully demonstrated through the rape of Casca, but also subsequently through his pure untouchability (often in pointedly sexualized contexts); through his phony relationship with Charlotte and ascending to the ultimate patriarchal role of king/emperor and taking that sword called the throne; and I guess also through his actual sword lol which he still uses.

An example of sexualized untouchability - check out the positioning of that third thought bubble, in this scene where Griffith lords his invulnerability over Ganishka.

And look at all those pillars, I'm js.

And I'd be remiss not to point out the most recent confrontation with Guts where Guts tries many times to hit his naked body with his giant sword, completely fails, and then Griffith kidnaps Casca. More very on-point emasculation symbolism, it might as well be Guts trying to fuck him but unable to get hard lol. His breakdown afterwards doesn't do much to disabuse you of that notion either.

Anyway, back to post-Eclipse Guts. There's not much else to add that I didn't cover at the start, but in brief:

Guts has lost his arm during the Eclipse, which is an emasculation - he loses it while watching Femto rape ~his woman~ so it's like the most traditional symbolic castration there is lol. And of course he replaces it with a bigger, better, and more overt phallic symbol: a canon. And like the first thing we see him do with it is shove it into the mouth of a monster he's banging and blow her head off. So yk, there's that.

And there's Puck, who exists to help bridge Guts' emotional distance and essentially serves as the feminine counterpart to Guts' masculinity for a while. From his magical empathy, to his tiny size, to his lack of genitalia (note that in Freudian theory the lack of a penis is an indicator of femininity rather than specifically the presence of a vagina), to his connections with female characters Theresia and Jill, even arguably to his introduction where Guts saves him from a bunch of men throwing phallic knives at him by skewering them with his own (bigger) projectiles, this is consistent during the Black Swordsman/Conviction arc era.

Chestnut Puck is a lot more boyish, with his particular humour, his cameraderie with an annoying teenage boy, and now having his own feminine counterpart in Ivalera, but that's fine because his thematic job as a feminine influence on Guts is over after Guts starts collecting more friends.

And as far as the RPG group goes, there are a few notable instances of phallic symbolism for them too. Farnese and Serpico are an obvious example, with Farnese sexualizing the wounds Serpico voluntarily suffers for her, when she demands he duel for her honour a bunch of times.

Farnese brandishing the end of her whip at him doesn't hurt the freudian power dynamic symbolism either lol.

In the Conviction arc Farnese wielded a sword she was incapable of using, suggestive of her true femininity under a brash masculine surface, and when she softens in the Millenium Falcon arc she becomes a caretaker with only a small dagger for self-defense. That said, she does get that epic moment of stabbing a tiger in the eye with a long silver pole (candlestick) when she rejoins Guts' crew rather than becoming a housewife, so she still gets some badass phallic weapon imagery lol.

Serpico wields a thin rapier in the Conviction Arc, which Guts easily grabs in his hand, and in the Millenium Falcon arc he switches to a... limp feather duster lol. Serpico is very feminized compared to Guts and his weapons fit as part of that, but they're still effective weapons. You could maybe argue, within this Freudian lens, that this is indicative of Serpico's healthier relationship with masculinity. He's not compensating for anything, he's at peace with himself.

And god I gotta say something about Guts and Serpico's duels. In the first one you have Serpico delaying Guts while Farnese steals Casca from him, and part of that delay is to force Guts into a fight where he can't wield his sword, a parallel emasculation to Casca being kidnapped.

Then you have their confrontation after Farnese's no good very bad night, which is just incredibly suggestive lol.

You cannot tell me this isn't Guts getting blueballed when Serpico leaves after one quick exchange. Particularly coming in the same chapter featuring possessed Farnese grinding on Guts' sword (which Guts was much less interested in, incidentally). Also: wounds as sexual imagery again. Guts licking the blood off his cheek? Come on.

And finally you have their fight in Farnese's basement, in which Serpico attempts to hinder Guts by surrounding him with giant pillars, which Guts smashes through as he dodges around them. Another neat illustration of Guts' pure phallic power and Serpico's much more effeminate style.

One final note to address part of your ask, which didn't naturally fit into the rest of this lol: I would interpret vaginal imagery in monsters as mainly castration anxiety, yk, vagina dentata vibes, the fear of sticking your dick in a hole you can't see into. There's actually a lot of interesting stuff to consider in terms of the feminine as the unknowable other when it comes to Freudian theory, but that's like, not something I would expect Miura to lean into first of all, and also it would take another essay of explanation. If you're interested in that kind of Freudian analysis though I'd recommend the books Men, Women, and Chainsaws by Carol J. Clover and The Dread of Difference, edited by Barry Keith Grant. I took a course on women and horror films ages ago and read chunks of those, and it was very fun, and iirc both address Freudian imagery in horror.

Okay! So that's the rundown of like, all the examples of Freudian imagery that interest me at least lol. This isn't exhaustive ofc, Berserk is long and not stingy with this stuff, but this response is already so long and meandering lol, so I'm going to wrap it up here.

To sum up, phallic imagery often represents masculine power as well as masculine flaws (like emotional isolation) in Berserk, while yonic/vaginal imagery tends to represent feminine weakness as well as feminine virtues (like emotional connection and vulnerability). As a general rule, the more phallic imagery someone violently swings around, the more fucked up they are. Phallic violence is used to compensate for past trauma, but it only continues the cycle of violence. The way to break that violence is to accept one's wounds and focus on them, to heal, rather than trying to distract from them.

I don't think this is always the best way to interpret Berserk lol, but it adds another dimension that very often complements the surface meaning and thematic resonance of the story, sometimes purposefully, sometimes likely incidental. And either way it's a lot of fun to read into!

[pencil-peach]

G Witch Onscreen Text: Episode 3

This is part FOUR in my ongoing attempt to transcribe and discuss all of the text that appears on screens and monitors in the show! Because it's COOL!!!! HUAHHHH!!!

<< Click here to go back to Episode 2!

Take My Hand..... Let us go....

TEXT (Bottom) No. 001 MOM

This is just the UI that appears during the video call, not much to say, but the fact that No. 001 appears above Prospera's contact name in Suletta's Phone probably means that contacts aren't sorted in alphabetical order, but by the order they were registered into the phone.

Suletta's Mom is No. 001 because she's the first (and by this point in the story, probably only,) contact in Suletta's phone.

Following this same line of reasoning, Sarius is registered 39th in Shaddiq's phone, and his contact name isn't "Dad" or something like that, it's just his full name, Sarius Zenelli. All business with this guy, huh?

TEXT: ID: 5011-01 NAME: PROSPERA MERCURY COMPANY: Shin Sei Development Corporation POSITION: REPRESENTATIVE PLACE OF BIRTH: MERCURY FIELD: PERMET MINING TECHNOLOGY, MS DEVELOPMENT CHILDREN: 1 SPOUSE: DECEASED PERSONAL HISTORY:

Assigned to mercury development group Married in the field Gave birth to SULETTA MERCURY Injuries to half her body from resource mining accident

EMPLOYEE COMPENSATION: Mining accident victim

HOKAY. There's a lot to dig into here.

So first, minor thing but I figure it important to mention, the ID on Prospera's profile is 5011-01. The first half of the ID matches that of Aerial's Permet Id, which is 5011-0083. What this means particularly is beyond me I think. Maybe the first half of an MS ID is in reference to its creator? Maybe it's just coincidence? Who knoooows

It's very interesting how almost all of the data that's recorded here is just straight up wrong. Prospera was not born on Mercury, didn't marry in the field, (well...i guess technically she did. Not THIS field though.)

But what I think is most important here is that Prospera is in fact receiving workman's compensation for a mining accident. It's easy to assume that this is also misinformation, that there never really WAS a mining accident, but lets think about it for a minute.

We first hear about this accident during the Shin Sei hearing, when Prospera claims the accident took her arm and face. We KNOW that she's lying about this, because she lost her arm back when she was a child. It doesn't explain her helmet, though.

Then we see this, and learn that she's actively receiving workman's compensation for the incident. In episode 24, we finally have a name to the condition she has: "Data Storm Infection," and we learn that it's actively paralyzing her body.

So, I think the mining accident did really happen. The resources they were mining for would had to have been permet, which would explain how she became infected with a Data Storm.

This is mostly speculation on my end, but look at Prospera's Permet scar. It's focused around a single point. We can't know what specifically happened, but if I had to make an assumption, during the accident she probably got blasted in the head by a potent chunk of permet at that spot. Or something like that. I could talk about it another time.

Anyway, moving on !

TEXT: (El4n's phone) EXCHANGE COMPLETED PILOTING DEPARTMENT ID No: LP-041 NAME: SULETTA MERCURY CONTACT INFORMATION REGISTERED (When the two are in the process of registering, the tab says ADD FRIENDS instead of EXCHANGE COMPLETED)

Just the contact exchange screen.

Not text, but I think knowing now that Jeturk Heavy Machnery was the top company in the Benerit Group gives new context to how swiftly the company began falling in the ranks entirely because Guel lost the title of Holder. It really does give you a lot of sway within the Group.

TEXT Subject: Regarding the next Duel From: Vim Jeturk To: Lauda Neill

Follow my orders for the next duel. Make sure to look into the attached file.

Regards,>>attachment file

This is the email Vim sends Lauda before the duel, about rigging the sprinklers to go off.

Not going to transcribe all this again, just wanted to point out that when one of the main settings in Aerial is yellow, that means its currently active/online

TEXT: SEMI-AUTONOMOUS MODE [???]

Cant read the sub heading in this shot, but we can see that the Darilbalde is currently on Semi Autonomous Mode

TEXT: INTEGRATED ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROL SYSTEM LOCATION: 7TH TACTICAL TESTING SECTOR CURRENT STATUS: ABNORMAL STATUS: LOCAL HEAT ABNORMAL. COOLING BY WATER

Here we get a brief look at the environmental control system that Felsi and Petra messed with for the duel. They turned the humidity up to 98

When Suletta wins the duel, she already has the Holder emblem and colors on her Duel card. She also has 2 wins, so her and Guel's first duel is no longer voided.

TEXT: KP001 ELAN CERES CONGRATULATIONS!

When Suletta wins the duel, Elan is the first person to send her an email congratulating her on the victory

She also gets a bunch of other messages from other students at the school. Most of these are repeats of each other, so I'll go ahead and only type out the unique ones: YOU'VE DONE IT! CONGRATS! SO COOL! WELL DONE, MERCURIAN GIRL! HOW LUCKY! WOOHOO! NICE FIGHT! CONGRATS! YOU WON! MERCURIAN GIRL...G... GIRL, DONT LOSE! I THOUGHT YOU COULD DO IT! YOU'RE A SPECIAL... GREAT! GREAT! BEAUTIFUL VICTORY!

When Miorine tells Suletta to set her inbox only to friends, you can see that she does at the top there.

No text here. I just really like this frame.

TEXT MOTION DETECTOR ON

Nothing super interesting here. I just like it

Anyway!!! THAT IS ALL!! WE HAVE MADE IT THROUGH!!! As a reward, here is a funny image

Me when a pretty girl is nice to me one time.

Lots of fun stuff this episode! Please excuse the tangent on Prospera, I just think she's really interesting. I think my favorite email from this episode was GIRL, DONT LOSE..... GIRL...YOU HAVE TO WIN....!!!! I'm still having a lot of fun with this! And I hope you've been enjoying it too! Until next time....hoyaaaahh...

Click here to go to Episode 4! >>

Click here to go to the Masterpost!

[outlanderalien]

Pathetic

Dark-Urge/Nere

Nere thought you were his salvation when you freed him from the rubble, if only he had known the dark urges that drove your actions...

A short re-imagining of the scene that follows Nere's rescue from the perspective of a sadistic dark-urge protagonist, written in the style of an in-game cutscene. Durge has personality but is otherwise genderless and without physical description.

CW: S&M, dubcon, whipping

[AO3 LINK]

You watch the bodies collapse onto the floor, their hands still grasping their own crushed necks. You're impressed. Such malice, such cruelty, you knew there was a reason you were drawn to this drow, that there was purpose to you rescuing him. He's a kindred spirit.

As he approached his final victims the drow says something curious, something unexpected.

Nere: "Nere. Does. Not. Fail."

There's an insecurity here, a weakness that begs to be exploited. Is the violence and cruelty all an elaborate attempt to compensate for... inadequacy? Perhaps not a kindred spirit after all, but he could prove fun.

You hardly pay attention to the carnage he enacts on the remaining slaves. Your mind is caught on a more exciting thought.

Nere: "This was meant to be a simple operation - I arrive, those pack animals clear the debris, and I walk into the temple. Instead I've been beset by incompetence, treachery, and now this... The absolute's business remains unfinished..."

You spot a momentary lapse of confidence, is that fear you sense? Fear of failure… Fear of punishment. You dig deeper into his mind, swirling amongst the darkness are visions of torture, penance, and screams. The confident voice Nere commands with reduced to beautiful, agonised wailing. You'd like to hear it for yourself…

Nere: "True Soul, I need you to send word to the General, tell him I need reinforcements."

You just discovered the perfect deceit to make the most of his fears.

Durge: "I am no messenger, I am here by the grace of the Absolute herself."

Nere: "Really? How curious. I've never even met you before."

He's suspicious and rightly so. An unspoken accusation hangs in the air.

You respond not with words, but with a hard, cold, unrelenting glare. His expression drops, new fears cloud his judgement, fears that he may be making his already dire situation worse.

Thanks to the artefact, he can no longer consult with the Absolute to test your lie. As far as he's concerned, you're exactly who you say you are and the Absolute is ignoring him for his failure.

Nere: "Apologies… I am not feeling myself. Please understand it is uncommon for someone so new to gain the Absolutes favour so fast, I am sure it is well-earned…

There is a hint of resentment in his voice.

Nere: Speak true soul, tell me what news you bring."

Durge: "I already told you, I am no messenger. The manner of my posting here is to act as judge."

Nere: "Judge?… To what?"

Durge: "To your performance. The Absolute suspects you may struggle with your task"

Dread falls heavy on the poor drow. He knows that whatever test this is he has already failed it. And worse- The Absolute had the foresight to distrust his ability… what shame. What agonising shame.

Nere: "My lack of results are inexcusable I know… But I can still complete my orders. If I could just get some reinforcements… Tell the General that I--"

Durge: "I am no messenger."

You look upon him, disdainful and severe. He knows now to keep quiet, maybe then he will stop making things worse for himself.

Durge: "I am here to judge and to motivate only."

A smile twists into place as you watch him sink. The next part of your deception promises to be the most exciting part yet.

Durge: "And by my judgement, you are a failure, poorly motivated, and lacking in conviction. It seems I will have my work cut out for me."

Nere: "Your work?"

Nere tenses, his mind racing fearful of an imminent execution, of being discarded by the Absolute.

Durge: "The motivation."

It is only now that he pays closer attention to the implement you have held for this entire exchange. A whipping cane. As dreadful as the idea is, it is preferable to annihilation… and unfortunately familiar...

Nere: "I-… I Understand…"

You can feel his anguish already, his mind overflowing with self-loathing, he thought he had long surpassed such humiliating punishments, but now he must face his reality: he has been and always will be a failure. His harsh self-admonishment sates you.

Nere: "I will show you to my private quarters if that's suitable..."

Durge: "That will not be necessary. Strip."

Nere: "I--… Here?"

Durge: "You heard me. Strip."

You watch on delighted as he's rendered speechless. He wants to protest but knows that it is already a forgone conclusion. It is happening here. There is no changing that.

You have to stifle a smirk as he gives in and begins to remove his layers. The armour that gave him presence, authority and power, shedding bit by bit at your command.

He stands as though finished, with only his trousers remaining. You give him a severe and expectant look. Your message is clear, much to his chagrin.

Hesitantly he unbuckles and removes his trousers. He stands again, believing to be done. With just a look you let him know that he isn't.

Nere: "No further... Please..."

His plea is sweet, but you have other plans. You don't even dignify it with a response.

Forlorn, he continues, removing the last piece of fabric shielding his body. He has never felt so bare. You drink in his anguish hungrily. His punishment hasn't even begun and you're already drunk off his humiliation. This will be fun.

Nere: "W-... Would you like me to..."

He doesn't even know how to begin to ask this. You let him struggle, you find it cute. He's lost all of his fight so quickly.

Nere: "Where do you want me..."

You cast command on him, forcing him to prostrate himself before you, lowered to the ground in a grovelling manner.

Durge: "Just there will do."

You waste no time. No sooner had he been brought to his knees had the sting of the whip connected with his back, forcing a shaky gasp to escape him. You give him a moment to breathe, to soak in his new reality. He may have already been entirely stripped, but with that humbling strike the last and most persistent of his armour fell away, his pride.

Nere: "Please forgive me."

Durge: "Show your remorse through taking your penance."

You connect another cruel lash against his bare flesh eliciting a broken cry from the shamed drow. But that's not enough for you, you need to hear him beg.

You administer another, and another yet. The crack of the tool connecting with his skin echoes through the grand hall along with his cries. That's when you feel it.

You are not alone in your pleasure.

Digging deeper, you follow the sensation to it's source, connecting with the mind of the punished himself. He likes it… He craves it. You feel a rush of adrenaline course through you, unable to control yourself, the whip swings mercilessly.

He is overwhelmed by the pain, the sensation of a deserved punishment, of his own powerlessness. You leave stripes all over his back, across his thighs, over every bit of bare flesh you can reach. This will not be a lesson soon forgot, of that you will make sure.

Nere: "Sorry-- I'm sorry! Please forgive me!"

His cries are beautiful, but you have to forcibly stay your hand. You take a moment to admire your work, the shuddering, weeping mess before you.

Durge: "Look at you. Pathetic."

You see him tense, he liked that...

You release him from the binds of command, but obediently he remains still. You take a few steps around him and place the heel of your boot onto his side, effortlessly pushing him over. He rolls onto his back, wincing as the fresh injuries push against hard ground. He's erect.

You place your boot onto the centre of his chest and gradually push down with force. Your mind is swimming with desire, killing him would be too quick and no fun, you'd lose a valuable toy if you did that.

He looks up at you with a repentant expression, face stained with tears. Perhaps you could keep him, like a slave, or maybe a pet...

Your minds connect suddenly, lost in desire you let your defences crumble. He sees your lust fully and entirely and he returns it. No words expressed, but a longing felt. A longing to be your personal plaything.

You sever the connection fast. That was close. The deception was almost discovered along with the artefact. Your mind returns to steel, your lustful expression grows cold.

Durge: "The Absolute forgives you."

You remove your boot and begin your exit. You sense his feeling of abandonment, a cold empty feeling with only the pain you gave him to bring him comfort and warmth.

You would love to toy with him again one day, perhaps that's why you spared him. But for now, you will leave him wanting more.

[tylwer34567]

RGB Villains Headcanons

CW: Grooming/Child Abuse (For this post, Im using the theory of the Grundel originally being a former child turned into a Grundel for the basic. In my interpretation of this headcanon, he was kidnapped and raised by a Grundel as an apprentice of sorts. There are no graphic or explicit descriptions of the abuse. But some of the headcanons include the aftermath effects of the trauma, so I'm putting this warning here such in case.)

The Grundel

1. How do they feel about people shorter/taller than them? He has an Napoleon complex/inferiority complex when it comes to the other Class VII's. He is the youngest (only have been operating for about 100 years and was trained beforehand by the original Grundel) and is around 6'2 while the rest are, as he puts it, fun size. It doesn't help that Boogey likes to make fun of him and call him nicknames like shorty. He compensates by trying to assert dominance in other ways, such as being aggressive or sly.

2. What are they like on social media? (What’s their username, profile pic, etc.) He would be an internet troll who does stuff for the lols.

3. Their sexuality? N/A (Hasn't thought about it that much)

4. Preferred weather? Rain and foggy weather helps to numb his pains.

5. What’s their sleeping schedule? Zero sleeping schedule. He lays on the floor and tries to go asleep despite his body refusing to at times. He sometimes deals with sleep deprivation and nightmares.

6. Favorite music? Heavy metal and jazz. He enjoys loud music in general. Grundel loves to turn up the volume on his personal Walkman to ignore the others when they're talking too much.

7. How’s their cooking? He doesn't know how to cook and insteads eat sugary junk food like cookies, chocolate, chips, and soda. He has recently grew to enjoy Samhain's cooking (though he started eating it to stop Samhain from worrying too much).

8. It’s movie night, what movie do they pick? Cheesy, horror B-movies like Creature of the Black Lagoon, Plan 9 from Outer Space, and Backet Case. The others complain that they're not even scary (and in Wat's case, not gorey enough), but he doesn't care. He loves them for their unintentional humour, terrible practical effects, and predictability.

9. How would they hold up in a pillow war? He would hold up pretty good on his own. His strategy would be to isolate opponents, using his charm to turn others against each other. When outnumbered, he would try to smooth talk to distract.

10. What’s their sleeping position? Side lying with a pillow between his legs as to alleviate his pain.

11. Who do they go to for comfort? No one. With him being a parastic entity, most ghosts, from Classes I to VI, kept their distance from him, in fear that they could be infected. Despite hanging out with the Class VII's, he doesn't feel comfortable enough to vent to them.

12. Something small that they enjoy? His teddy bear. He can't quite remember where he got it from, but it had always brought him comfort whenever he was chewed out by his former Master.

13. How do they feel about physical contact by others? He hates physical contact, PDA, and anything else like that. He learned to associate toutch with pain and punishment, making him defensive and skittish.

14. What is enough to bring them to tears? Nothing He doesn't cry due to a deep-seated belief that showing emotion is weak.

15. Biggest pet peeve? That some of his victims like Kylie got away. He genuinely does not get why people are disgusted at the thought of becoming a Grundel. His former Master loved to tell him that turning children to Grundels was a 'gift', that they wouldn't have to deal with strict authority figures stifling their true potential.

16. How well do they take care of themselves? Not well. He forgets to eat at times and sometimes refuses to sleep as to not have another nightmare.

17. What’s something they like that may be surprising to others? The other overlords were suprised to see that Grundel loved old, black and white cartoons. Stuff like Micky Mouse, Oswald the Rabbit, and Betty Boop are his personal favorites.

18. Do they consider others family? N/A

19. Any bad habits that they have? He bites his nails, paces when stressed or anxious, and picks at his old scars when he's in deep thought.

20. What’s their idea of a perfect vacation? Anywhere that's stress free and uninhabitable

21. Do they get lost easily? Will they ask for directions if they are? He never gets lost. And even if he did, he wouldn't ask none of the Overlords for help; he's a well-ajusted entity, thank you every much (he isn't).

22. The strangest thing they have ever seen? N/A

23. How well do they accept advice? Not well. He struggles to think that others have his best interests at heart.

24. How much do they swear? He swears a lot. Others like to joke that he swears like a child who just learn new bad words.

25. How do they take advice given to them? He pretends to take advice to avoid conflict or appearing vulnerable to people.

26. Do they like being in pictures? He hates pictures and gets upset when someone tries to take one without asking him first.

27. Is there anything they’re bad at? Blah blah killing the Ghsostbusters, everyone ghost is terrible at that.

28. What’s their morning schedule? His morning routine includes involves checking his surroundings for threats, stretching to alleviate his chronic pain, and mentally preparing for the day.

29. Any past injuries? He has faded scars across his body from his Master when he failed his duties or be disobedient to him. He also suffered from chronic pain in his pelvic and chest from past "punishments". He hides them the best he can.

30. Something that disgusts them? He's disgusted by displays of affection, both physical and emotionally. It was installed into him by the original Grundel to see such acts as weak and manipulative.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Additional Notes

First Impressions: Never knew this guy existed/j

Latest Impressions: "I feel sick." - An actual quote from me after watching the Grundel for the first time.

Favorite Fanfictions Featuring Them: Whispers in the Dark: A fanfiction about Kylie's experiences with the Grundel during her childhood. It is the only fanfiction I was able to find for him, but it's pretty good. The writer did such a good job with replicating how Grundel talks that I was able to like hear the character's voice in my head (but seeing how it's Grundel voice, that's probably not a good thing for me/j). It also has a wholesome ending with Kylie being comforted by Egon and Janine so thats a plus.

Link to fic: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10802736/1/Whispers-In-the-Night

Favorite Ships: Free to Interpret (I don't think a relationship is what Grundel needs ngl)

Favorite Images: 

This image's too relatable

Song That I Associated with Them: Chonny Jash - Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq, G.F.D. | Will Wood Cover

(Warning: this song is very loud)

Something I Don't Like About Them: Um everything, everything about him/j

Fun Facts

The Grundel is voiced by Rodger Bumpass, well known for playing Squidward Tentacles in Spongebob Squarepants, but also Dr. Membrane in Invader Zim, Doctor Light in Teen Titans, and RGB's Louis Tully.

He was called Grundel Astrala in a draft of the Extreme Ghostbusters episode Grundelesque.

The Grundel was the only the villian from RGB to return in an episode of EG.

He appears in the online Most Wanted missions of Ghostbusters: The Video Game. Except not only really cause it's not him, they just named a completely different monster after him man I really love it when this series does that

He has also made camoes in IDW Ghostbusters comic covers.

Final Verdict: 999/10 (took a point off just cause I can)

[tell-me-a-tale-that-tells]

Glowing Crystals & Voided Minds

18+ only, minors dni

━───────⊹⊱✙⊰⊹───────━

Characters & Pairings: Female OC & Lest (Arcane), Female OC/ Viktor (Arcane/League of Legends), Singed (Arcane/League of Legends), Smeech (Arcane), Sevika (Arcane), Viktor (Arcane/League of Legends), Lest (Arcane).

Warnings: violence, mention of murder, blood and gore, death.

Summary: Enith is a young woman with a very specific power; reading into the minds of living and dead persons. She embarks on a dangerous journey to free herself from a curse and stop illegal traffic.

Note: This fic is still a work in progress. I may end up changing things on the go, but it's perfectly readable.

━───────⊹⊱✙⊰⊹───────━

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 (coming soon)

The room was filled with thick, foggy smoke, as if the polluted air of Zaun wasn’t enough. People still had the audacity to use tobacco. Enith tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the wooden table, the black polish concealing dried blood beneath them.

"When will she arrive?" she asked, her tone polite veiled with impatience. Patience had never been her strength, but business was business, and she couldn’t proceed until this deal was closed.

"In a couple of minutes," a tall, curvy redhead replied. Her face was almost entirely concealed by a leather mask. "Margot's been very busy lately."

Right on cue, Margot entered in a rush and sat across from her. "Enith, my dear," she began, her voice sugary with false charm. "I’m terribly sorry for the delay, but I need your help. You'll be well compensated, of course."

Enith had long grown immune to Margot’s pet names. She knew there was no sincerity or sweetness behind them. She tilted her head slightly, signaling for Margot to continue.

"One of my girls was murdered, we found her a couple of hours ago" Margot said, frustrated. "My business is already falling apart without psychos killing off my staff. The monster responsible for this had already escaped, I need to know who he was.”

A wave of nausea rolled through Enith, and she pinched the bridge of her nose, stifling it. "You know what this will cost you, Marg," she said, her voice rough.

Margot hesitated for a moment, considering. "Don’t worry" her voice lowering slightly. "I know someone who has exactly what you’ve been looking for."

"Deal," Enith said without hesitation. "Take me to the dead girl."

They walked down the purple-tinted corridor, passing rooms adorned with cascading beads and curtains in hues of blue and red. The atmosphere was heavy, oppressive. Finally, Margot stopped in front of a room, her face etched with discomfort.

"She’s in there," Margot said, avoiding to look at the room's entrance. She clearly wanted nothing to do with what lay beyond the door.

“What was her name?” Enith asked, stepping inside.

“Karina, or at least it’s the name she gave me” Margot answered, “When you’re finished, you’ll find me in my office” and with that, she walked back down the corridor.

At the centre of the dimly lit room stood a bathtub. The scent of roses and vanilla was almost nauseating.

Inside the tub, the water had long gone cold, and a young girl with long brown hair lay lifeless, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

Enith noticed the bruises around the girl's neck—small, black, and blue marks, the unmistakable imprint of a hand.

"Hello, Karina," Enith murmured, "Don’t worry, I won’t pry more than necessary."

She circled the tub with slow, deliberate steps until she stood behind the girl's head and taking a deep, steady breath, she extended her hands and gently placed them on the victim’s temples.

In an instant, sensations flooded her mind.

Heat enveloped her, water lapping softly at her skin.

A man's voice murmured nearby.

She felt a light touch on her ankle, a soft kiss on her shoulder.

A deep, aching longing swelled in her chest—a craving for something.

Home? Safety in someone's arms? Acceptance?

Then came a sharp pain, piercing through her chest.

Panic.

And then, nothing.

An empty void.

Enith released her grip, letting her hands fall to her sides.

Her dark eyes lingered on the girl a moment longer, coldly assessing the scene.

After another silent sweep of the room, confirming what she already knew, she turned and left.

"Heart failure? Are you sure?" Margot asked in disbelief. "What about the bruises on her neck? I thought that man strangled her!"

Enith shook her head, her short black bob swaying with the movement. "Those bruises are from a day or two ago. Her last client wasn’t trying to kill her. If anything, he was being... kind."

A chill rippled through her as the memory surfaced, but she dismissed it just as quickly.

Margot thanked her and handed over a business card—black and elegant, thick with expensive paper.

The gold lettering gleamed in the low light. "You’ll find your payment here," she said before bidding Enith farewell.

──── ◉ ────

Walking around in Zaun at night is not recommended for everyone who holds their life dear.

She preferred these quiet moments, where no one bothered her, where she could let her mind rest, free from the demands of the living or the whispers of the dead.

Finally, she stopped in front of a grim building, made of iron and glass, a faint green light coming from inside—"Blackthorn Funeral Home," the sign read.

Enith pushed open the heavy wooden door, a few dim candles flickered by the entrance, casting trembling shadows on the walls.

On the far end of the room stood a wooden table with white linen draped over it and, on top of that, a slick black coffin with its lid closed.

In front of the already unsettling display, a chem baron was cutting some stems from an overgrown plant.

He was tall, unnaturally lanky, with long limbs, and the skin clung too tightly to his angular bones.

He greeted Enith with educated mannerisms "Good evening, I'm Voren Clyve. Do you have an appointment, perhaps?" Said the man, revealing two rows of yellowed teeth.

The chemical vials that hung from his belt clung as he moved, giving off a scent of embalming fluid.

"No", Enith answered drily, "but you have something for me" She fished out the business card and handed it to him.

The chem baron’s smile widened, his fingers toying with the small piece of paper.

"So direct. Very well. There's a certain body... a very special one. Someone from Piltover. Freshly dead, and still warm"

Enith raised an eyebrow. "And what makes this body so special?"

He gestured toward a door at the back of the room.

Enith’s expression remained cold, but she followed him, curious as Voren led her into a big, sterile room.

There, on a metal table, lay the body. It was covered in a thin, white sheet, the outline of the figure beneath clearly visible. A man.

Enith stepped closer, her eyes narrowing, there was a strange energy, subtle but unmistakable to someone like her.

Voren stood at her side, his thin smile never faltering. “I assume you’re interested?” he asked.

He began to make a list of the advantages, as if he were talking about a now useless machine from which to obtain spare parts, Enith absentmindedly heard about gold teeth to be extracted, a prosthesis to be removed and resold, and other things that she didn't pay attention to the slightest attention.

Enith’s gaze didn’t move from the covered body; she extended a hand, making it hover above the body.

Ozone, sharp and tang like the taste of blood, the faint scent of metal, volatile and delicate like the frost of the grass on winter mornings.

Magic.

After a moment, she nodded. “I’ll take it.”

Voren’s smile widened, pleased. He stepped aside, gesturing toward the corpse as if presenting a gift. “Then it’s all yours, my dear."

Without a word, Enith reached into her coat, pulling out a heavy pouch and tossing it to Voren.

"One hundred, if you can deliver him by tomorrow morning at this address" she scribbled it on the white sheet, tapping it afterwards with her left index "I'll give you more if you will find another"

Voren’s smile turned predatory. “It's a pleasure doing business with you"

Enith smiled back, only the corners of her mouth moved up while her eyes stayed the same.

She left the Funeral House, closed her coat tightly around her and walked her way home.

──── ◉ ────

As the morning sun filtered by the smoke shone through the windows, Enith stirred in her bed, her body tangled in the sheets.

She rose from the bed and moved silently through the space.

Her black bob was tousled from sleep, she yawned and slipped into her favourite robe.

Enith moved toward the window, pausing for a moment to glance outside, then she turned her attention to her plants, watering them using a small copper watering can.

The plants provided some fresh oxygen and she tended to them with care, little moments of routine that kept her rooted to something simple.

A small rustling sound from the corner of the room caught her attention.

Enith glanced over to see her Poro waddling toward her, its tiny paws tapping softly on the floor.

It looked up at her with wide, expectant eyes, a faint squeak escaping its mouth.

"Hungry, Vik?" she murmured to the little creature, her voice soft.

She filled his bowl with some herbs and bits of meat she bought specifically for only him, while Vik started to squeak and running in circles around her legs.

"Just a moment" Enith allowed herself a brief smile, watching the Poro eat, she loved and spoiled him like a child.

Once her companion was well fed, Enith cooked her breakfast, a simple herbal tea, some toasted bread and butter.

The Poro finished its meal and padded over to her, hopping onto the chair across from her and curling up into a fluffy ball.

Enith reached out, her fingers gently brushing its fur, "I have to go, sweetie" she murmured.

──── ◉ ────

"This is not the body I saw yesterday,", Enith said through gritted teeth.

The two gravediggers looked puzzled at each other "It's the body Mr. Clyve told us to deliver here, ma'am." The younger one explained, "It was the only body we had in the morgue" told the older.

The dead man on the slab didn't give off any of the energy she felt the night before.

"I can assure you, it's not him" she complained, stressed out by the situation.

She was sure enough they weren't lying, even without prying in their minds; it wasn't probably their fault anyway.

"Listen, Gentlemen," she began, and the two men looked quite flattened by the way she addressed them, "I will talk to Clyve personally; you can take the corpse inside, please."

The gravediggers unloaded the unfortunate man back from their motorized cart, but before they could turn to leave, Enith’s hands shot out.

She placed her fingertips gently on the nearest man’s forehead, and his body tensed for a moment, eyes glazing over as she pressed into his mind.

The other gravedigger, too slow to realize what was happening, had no time to react before she laid her hand on him as well.

The location of her lab was far too important to risk, so she removed any information they gathered.

The two workers heard the big door of her laboratory close behind their backs, "Tell me, Fred, do you know where we are...and why?"

As soon as the door clicked shut, the calm façade Enith had shattered.

She spun on her heel, storming into her laboratory.

"How is that possible?" she muttered to herself, slamming her hands onto the cluttered workbench.

She picked up a sharp bistury and lifted the blanket off the body.

She tried to reach up into his mind, but there was nothing left, she only perceived an infinite void, which for her experiment, wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

She observed that the surgical incisions on the man’s body were made post-mortem, but they weren’t caused by a scalpel.

Instead, they appeared to be from something that burned through the flesh. Still, the cuts were unnaturaly precise—far more than what was possible with ordinary tools.

She doubted Voren had anything like that in the morgue.

Enith couldn’t be sure if the cuts had been there the night before, as she hadn’t seen the body uncovered.

But if they weren’t...?

Her eyes flicked toward the obsidian orb resting on the table.

She studied her own reflection in its smooth, black surface for a moment before a thought struck her. "But... what if it wasn’t the man? What if it was something inside him?"

Enith lifted the orb, passing it between her hands as she pondered. "Something small. Something that could be easily removed..."

The stained glass windows above cast shifting patterns of light onto the floor.

One of the beams of light caught the orb in her hand, and for a moment, it gleamed with a blue reflection.

"A hex crystal," she whispered.

──── ◉ ────

Voren Clyve’s profession had long dulled his fear of Death.

He knew, like everyone, that one day She would come for him, but watching so many souls depart before him made him feel oddly safe, even empowered.

But at that moment, Voren was terrified.

The dark figure looming at the foot of his bed was enough to chill his blood. Motionless, cold, and menacing, it stood there in silence.

At first, he thought it was just another nightmare—he’d had his share—but when he felt two hands grip tightly around his calves, the realization struck: this was no dream.

Enith was already deep inside his mind, she felt the damp chill of his home, the sterile, polished surfaces of coffins, and the cold apathy that festered in his heart.

As she delved further, she found herself in a long hallway lined with countless doors, most of them sealed tight.

One door creaked open, revealing a young Voren, toying with a dead rat and burying it in a tiny grave he dig with his hands.

Another showed him flirting with a colleague, his affections unreturned.

Yet in another, they appeared happy together—but the door next to it was locked, surrounded by sharp thorns and black roses, with a golden plaque glinting between them.

“Derrin,” Enith whispered.

She moved past it, searching for something deeper, until finally, she found what she sought.

“This body is already reserved,” Voren had said in his memory, “A client has already paid for it.”

“I don’t need the body, just something inside it,” came the calm reply of a shadowy figure, his whole body obscured. Only the faint glow of something oscillating near him gave away his presence.

“I can’t let you defile this corpse,” Voren had repeated, trying to stand his ground. But the response was a gloved hand clamping around his neck, squeezing until he could barely breathe.

“You will let me retrieve what’s mine. Understand?” The man’s voice was chillingly calm.

Voren, unable to resist, had no choice but to agree. He watched helplessly as the man expertly sliced into the body, rummaging through its innards until he produced a glowing blue crystal. The undertaker hoped that his client would never know.

But Voren had been wrong, gravely wrong.

The stranger had patted him on the shoulder with a bloodstained hand before vanishing into the night. When Voren finally regained his senses, Enith was already gone.

Flipping through the pages of a ledger, Enith searched for a name, a pattern, something that could provide a clue. One name kept recurring—Singed—appearing every two weeks like clockwork. It was her only lead. Refusing to touch again his mind and knowing Clyve wouldn’t talk, she’d have to find another way.

──── ◉ ────

It’s true what they say: if you need information, the best place to go is a bar. The patrons there were always desperate or careless, eager to talk if you bought them enough drinks.

“Welcome to The Last Drop,” a woman with a mechanical arm said from behind the counter. “What can I get you?” Her tone was indifferent as if she’d asked the same question a thousand times.

“Something that doesn’t reek of alcohol,” Enith replied, taking a seat on one of the stools.

“Water or juice. Your choice,” the woman said, raising an eyebrow. She was muscular, with dark skin and piercing eyes.

“Sevika,” came a honeyed voice from behind Enith. “I’ll cover whatever she’s having.”

Enith turned, surprised to see a familiar face. “Lest! What a pleasure to see you here,” she exclaimed, genuinely surprised. “How are you?”

Lest smiled warmly and gently guided Enith to a quiet corner of the bar. “I’m working,” she whispered. “Gathering information... and something tells me you’re here for the same reason, love.” One of Lest’s ears twitched, straining to catch the bar’s background chatter.

“Do you know anything about Hex crystals?” Enith asked, her voice low as she traced the worn lines of the wooden table with her fingers, running over knife-etched names.

Lest almost jumped in her seat. “Enith, what kind of trouble are you in?” She lit a cigarette, looking nervous. “Alright, listen. I don’t want to know why you’re asking, but... there’s a man who—let’s say—coordinates the illegal import of Hex technology into Zaun.” She tapped the cigarette, letting ashes fall onto the floor.

Enith leaned closer, hanging on every word. “They call him Singed. I’ve never seen him, but if there’s someone behind all this, it’s him. Please, Enith, promise me you won’t go after him.” Lest reached across the table, resting her hand on Enith’s.

“I can’t, Lest,” Enith said, her voice steady but her eyes softening as she held her friend’s gaze. “I don’t care if I have to steal it or buy it—I need one of those crystals. I can’t live like this anymore.”

Lest withdrew her hand, apologizing with a guilty look. Enith shook her head. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” she murmured before rising from her seat.

Lest held her hand, stopping her from leaving.

“I don’t read minds but I understand when you’ve seen something that troubled you. You can tell me.” Lest said once Enith sat back.

“I think, and for now, it’s just a hypothesis that one of the corpses for my experiments had a hex crystal inside, but… someone, took it before me”, she confessed, discouraged.

“So they’re using bodies to traffick them? Or maybe couriers, either they kill the couriers once they get here or…maybe is the crystal itself that leads them to death” Lest said, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

Enith remained lost in her toughs for several minutes before speaking “I have to find him.” She announced and Lest shot her a scolding glare.

“He will kill you” she whispered, “Enith, please that man is out of his mind” Lest stub out her cigarette, and produced a photo from her purse, handling it to her friend.

The picture was of a young man, his chest opened and organs removed, even the eyes were been carved out.

“This” said Lest almost sobbing “will be the end you’ll meet if you mess with him. That was an enforcer who had the bad luck of trying to stop Singed”

Enith looked into Lest’s eyes, seeing tears starting to form and threatening to fall down. “It’s worth the risk” she simply answered, before tossing the photo on the table and make her way towards the exit.

──── ◉ ────

This is the end of the first chapter and I would love to hear your impressions about the story and Enith!

[icanbeyourgenie]

“ I can read! Just not very well. Words swirl on a page for me. ” – Achilles to Nathaniel

Nathaniel could feel he raised a sensitive issue. He didn't mean to, it happened on accident. Three days together and the two men didn't experiment one dull moment, until Nathaniel asked questions about surgery, and one particularly heavy book. It became clear quite quickly that Achilles had troubles reading the words and relied heavily on the pictures. And for some reason, he seemed ashamed about it. Nathaniel didn't see why - any man who could do what Achilles could do with a scalpel should be proud.

“But I have a very good memory. Read me a book once and I memorize it quite easily.”

It broke Nathaniel's heart to see the surgeon try to compensate. He could only guess how many people made fun of this particularity. And he didn't know why he cared that much, but he did.

“Well, I'm afraid I won't be really useful here. I never finish a book. Not unless my Father is forcing me to. And even then, it's pure torture.”

Achilles seemed intrigued. “You have trouble reading too?”

“Not reading, no. Just staying focused. Books are too long, my mind plays tricks on me. No matter how hard I try to stay focused, it just becomes too... boring. I can't help but doing something else. That's why I love poetry the most. It's way shorter.”

Achilles looked at him, and Nate would give anything to know what was going on in his head. They were both seated on a couch, not far away from the table where Nate's victim died, but it was almost forgotten. They were very close. Almost touching, really. Every single one of Nate's senses tingled at this proximity. He wanted to be even closer.

“I...” Nate cleared his throat. “My Father always took this at impertinence, but I just feel like I can't control my brain sometimes. You know?”

“Yes. I do...”

“Look, I don't know what people told you, but I think you're brillant. Really, really brillant. And interesting. Even if there's so much I want to know about you. It's just... Not being able to-”

Nathaniel would've continued to babble if he wasn't stopped by the sudden but welcomed feeling of Achilles' lips against his. His brain completely froze. Achilles must've taken it like a rejection, because he stepped back, looking ashamed.

“I'm... Sorry, I thought... I thought I saw a sign, I probably mistaken it...”

He started to get up, but Nathaniel grabbed his wrist and pulled him back, making Achilles land half on top of him. They looked at each other for a second before their lips joined on her own accord.

It was not a quick and light kiss. Quite the opposite. Nathaniel didn't understand how someone he met so little time ago made him feel the way he did, but he welcomed it anyway. His entire body was on fire, butterflies dancing in his stomach. He only stopped when he realized he already had his hand under Achilles' shirt.

“Wait.” He said as he pulled back, and enjoyed more that he'd admit the sound of protest coming from Achilles' lips. “I'm very bad with timing. Are we going too fast?”

“We met three days ago so I'd say yeah. Definitely.”

It didn't stop Achilles from picking up the kiss where they left it, and all thoughts left Nathaniel's head.

[aerialsquid]

FFXIV Write 2024 Day 20: Duel

"They get their money and they leave. All of them. It's all they're ever here for. Same as you." The twin voices were eerie enough, but now both sounded on the verge of tears. The side door trembled, creaking open a few inches as the massive body on the other side leaned into it. Martyn saw one of Dollmaker's long-fingered feet scratching at the floor just at the edge of the cracked door. 

Martyn sputtered. Wasn't he supposed to be the victim here? Why was the monster the one crying? 

"Easy for something with all the money it wants to call me greedy," he spat back, trying to regain the moral high ground. "I have bills to pay. You can do anything you want with that money. This is Ul'dah, after all."

Dollmaker let out a low, burbling growl. Martyn could hear its fingers scratching angry furrows against the door.

 "No, you can do anything you want.  No amount of money will let me drink tea and smoke hookahs in the Platinum Mirage, or browse the stalls of the Sapphire Avenue Exchange. No amount of money will ever l-let me wear a pretty dress to the festivals." Dollmaker took a long, shuddering breath, pulling the door a little more closed.

Was it stuttering? It was stuttering. The unmitigated gall.

"All I can do is play pretend," Dollmaker moped. "And gil is the only thing that means any of you will stay just for a little while, just long enough to build up the illusion. So gil I acquire, and gil I pay."

Martyn flinched at the crashing of coins onto the floor, as the armoured doll flung the coinpurse in his direction. "Take your money and get out, doll," the doll snapped. "Greedy creature."

"Now look here, I'm still the wronged party!" The siren call of grocery bills took over and Martyn snatched up the heavy purse, cradling it with his free arm. 

"I'm only taking this because I'm owed recompense for you trying to bite my arm off, see? It's hazard pay, and compensation for violated contract agreements, and, uh. Duress." Those were words you used in contracts discussions, yes. "But paying me off is hardly going to settle the matter!"

"Get out before I rip you apart and devour you whole."

Martyn really wanted to point out those two things were a paradox. "No, you get out here, before I cover your entire doll collection in morbol breath. And let me warn you, that smell does NOT come out easily."

"What do you want, you cringing little creature?" Dollmaker shrieked. 

"I—uh." Martyn hadn't thought that far. "Well, an apology for starters."

"An…apology."

"You do know what that is, right?"

"Yes, of course I've heard of an apology, I've read books."

"And not from this fake thing, I want it from you personally. So get out here and apologize."

The door cracked open again. Martyn saw Dollmaker's pale mask peer around the corner, eyes glowing sad and soft.

"Why would you want to look at something monstrous, doll?"

"Well, I'm no peach myself. Isn't that why you keep rearranging me every time I'm down here?"

"Not the same thing," Dollmaker said, sniffling a bit despite its lack of any functional nose. The voidsent slowly oozed its way back into the room, head lowered, limbs curled in tight like a cringing dog.

[chocolatewerewolfface]

The Legal Process for Truck Accidents in Seattle: A Step-by-Step Guide

Introduction

Navigating the aftermath of a truck accident can be an overwhelming experience. Beyond the physical and emotional toll, there lies a complex legal landscape that victims Find more information must traverse to secure their rights and compensation. In Seattle, where heavy traffic and large commercial vehicles are commonplace, understanding The Legal Process for Truck Accidents in Seattle: A Step-by-Step Guide is crucial for anyone involved in such incidents. This comprehensive article aims to provide you with detailed insights into the steps you need to take after a truck accident, ensuring you are well-informed and prepared.

Understanding Truck Accidents in Seattle What Makes Truck Accidents Different?

Truck accidents differ significantly from regular car accidents due to the size and weight of commercial vehicles. These factors can lead to more severe injuries and damages. Furthermore, the legal processes involved are often more complicated, involving multiple parties like trucking companies and insurance firms.

Common Causes of Truck Accidents Driver Fatigue: Long hours on the road can lead to fatigue. Poor Maintenance: Trucks require regular inspections; neglecting this can result in accidents. Distracted Driving: Like any driver, truck drivers can also be distracted. Impaired Driving: Substance abuse remains a significant concern among some drivers. The Legal Process for Truck Accidents in Seattle: A Step-by-Step Guide Step 1: Ensure Safety First

As with any accident, your health should be your top priority. If you're involved in a truck accident:

Check yourself and others for injuries. Call 911 if anyone is hurt. Step 2: Gather Evidence at the Scene

Collect as much information as possible:

Take photos of the accident scene. Note down vehicle details (license plates, company names). Obtain contact information from witnesses. Step 3: Report the Accident

In Washington state, you must report any accident resulting in injury or significant property damage to local law enforcement within four days.

Step 4: Seek Medical Attention

Regardless of how you feel after an accident, it's essential to get checked by medical professionals. Injuries may not be immediately apparent but could have long-term implications.

Step 5: Consult an Experienced Lawyer

Contacting a specialized attorney such as those from Moseley Collins Law Seattle truck accident lawyers will guide you through your options effectively.

Why Choose Moseley Collins Law? Expertise in Handling Truck Accident Cases

With years of experience under their belt, attorneys at Moseley Collins Law understand how to navigate complex cases involving large trucks efficiently.

Local Knowledge Benefits Clients truck accidents

Familiarity with Seattle's laws and regulations enables them to tailor strategies specific to local jurisdictional nuances.

Potential Damages You Can Claim

[bikerlawyerdallas]

Finding the Right Motorcycle Accident Injury Attorney in Waco

Motorcycle accidents occur, and when they do, the result of injury is usually one that is significant -- or fatal. With that, the victims of such events carry a heavy load: cost of care and emotional trauma as well as financial strain. On the other hand, if you or a loved one has been injured in Waco motorcycle wreckage crash accident, our own Udall Shumway Focused motorcycle accident injury attorney in Waco is exactly what YOU NEED. These counsellors are well-qualified in making you realise this monotonous procedure and also assist in moving to the sums which you deserve.

This is where a Waco motorcycle crash injury attorney steps in

Motorcycle accident factors are different than for other types of vehicular-related accidents. When riders do go down, the injuries are generally far worse because motorcyclists have very little physical protection. The legal arguments create what need experience plenty, and all this suggests in Waco hurt other riders as a result of the crash, all have a cycle crash target lawyer throughout Waco together with if you know have direct exposure and also understanding recognizes quite possibly.

How to Choose the Right Waco Motorcycle Crash Injury Lawyer

Experience and Skill — You need an attorney who will tell you, he has been handling these types of cases for a long time. As far as your case goes, their intimate knowledge of the nuances of motorcycle accidents may actually work to your advantage.

Look Into Past Innocent Cases: Looking at an attorneys past innocent cases In other words, they work to get their clients good settlements or verdicts.

Look for reviews and testimonials from past clients — but take them with a grain of salt in some instances; this can be a strong indicator of how professional and effective the attorney will be. You may feel a bit confident about their ability to run your case due to positive feedback.

No Cost for Initial Consultation : Most Waco motorcycle accident injury attorneys are happy to discuss your case without charging you. It enables with you to speak to an attorney (for free) and also know how that attorney would approach your case if he or she was hired.

Accident Investigation — Get to work investigating how the accident occurred and who is responsible for what.

Conclusion

Call a Waco motorcycle accident injury lawyer if you have been involved in a Waco motorcycle accident. They will navigate through every intricacies that a motorcycle accident claim needs and help you obtain compensation for your expenses. This allows you to concentrate on recovery, and a skilled lawyer will handle all the legal aspects of your situation.

To know more about Motorcycle accident injury attorney Waco please stay with our website:bikerlawyer.com.

[blognerdzone]

Navigating the Legal Maze Construction Accident Attorney in Asbury Park NJ

In the bustling town of Asbury Park, NJ, construction projects are a common sight, contributing significantly to the local economy and infrastructure. However, with construction comes the unfortunate reality of potential accidents. For construction workers and residents, understanding the legal landscape surrounding these incidents is crucial. Enter the Construction Accident Attorney in Asbury Park NJ—a critical advocate for workers' rights and safety. This blog post aims to shed light on the importance of these legal professionals, offering insights, practical advice, and resources for those affected by construction accidents.

Understanding Construction Accidents

Construction sites are inherently risky environments. The combination of heavy machinery, elevated platforms, and demanding physical tasks creates a perfect storm for accidents. Common types include falls from heights, equipment malfunction, and electrical accidents. These incidents not only threaten the safety of workers but can also have devastating consequences for their families.

Understanding your legal rights is paramount if you're injured on a construction site. New Jersey law provides specific protections and avenues for compensation. It's important to know that you may be entitled to workers' compensation, covering medical expenses and lost wages. However, navigating these legal waters often requires expert guidance from a construction accident attorney.

Seeking legal help is not just about securing compensation—it's about holding parties accountable and ensuring safer conditions for all. An experienced attorney can provide the necessary support to help you understand your rights and the steps needed to pursue a claim effectively.

How a Construction Accident Attorney Can Help

A Construction Accident Attorney in Asbury Park, NJ plays a pivotal role in advocating for injured workers. Their expertise ensures that victims receive fair compensation and justice. In Asbury Park, NJ, these attorneys are well-versed in state laws and regulations, providing invaluable assistance throughout the legal process.

After a construction accident, it's crucial to act swiftly. Document the incident, seek medical attention, and consult an attorney to discuss your options. An attorney will guide you through the legal maze, from filing claims to negotiating settlements. Their role is to alleviate your burden, allowing you to focus on recovery.

The legal process involves several steps, including gathering evidence, proving negligence, and negotiating with insurance companies. A skilled attorney will handle these complexities, advocating on your behalf to secure the best possible outcome.

Choosing the Right Construction Accident Attorney

Selecting the right attorney is a decision that can significantly impact the outcome of your case. Experience matters—seek an attorney with a proven track record in handling construction accident cases. Their expertise will be invaluable in navigating the intricacies of your claim.

Consider an attorney's local knowledge of Asbury Park, NJ. Familiarity with local regulations and relationships with area experts can be advantageous. Additionally, look for testimonials and case examples that demonstrate successful outcomes. These stories can provide insights into an attorney's approach and effectiveness.

Ultimately, your choice should be someone who communicates clearly and understands your needs. A good attorney will not only fight for your rights but also keep you informed and involved throughout the process.

Local Regulations and Safety Measures

Asbury Park, NJ, adheres to strict construction regulations to ensure worker safety. Understanding these regulations is essential for both employers and employees. Compliance with safety standards minimizes risks, but accidents can still occur. This is where a construction accident attorney becomes an advocate for change.

Attorneys play a significant role in pushing for improved safety measures in the construction industry. They work to identify patterns of negligence and hold responsible parties accountable. By advocating for stricter regulations and enforcement, attorneys contribute to creating safer work environments.

For workers, understanding local regulations and maintaining open communication with their attorneys can lead to better safety practices. Knowledge is power, and being informed can prevent accidents before they happen.

Conclusion

Construction accidents are a harsh reality, but with the right legal guidance, victims can find justice and compensation. If you or someone you know has been involved in a construction accident in Asbury Park, NJ, it's crucial to seek the expertise of a Construction Accident Attorney in Asbury Park, NJ. Their support can make a significant difference in your recovery and future safety.

[head-post]

Dozens of children drown during Hindu festival in India

At least 46 people, including 37 children and seven women, drowned during a sacred ablution ritual during the Jivitputrika festival in the Indian state of Bihar, Indian media reported.

The incidents have been reported from 15 districts of the state. A local government official said:

The incidents occurred when the victims along with their family members went for sacred ablution in water bodies.

Bihar Chief Minister Nitish Kumar expressed condolences over the deaths of women and children. The state government announced compensation of 400,000 rupees ($4,800) to the families of each of the deceased, the statement said.

During the Jivitputrika festival, mothers fast for the well-being and prosperity of their children and join them in performing sacred ablutions in water bodies.

Fatal crushes during religious events have occurred in India in the past, but mass drownings during festivals are rare. In July, at least 121 people were killed after severe overcrowding and a lack of exits contributed to a stampede at a religious festival in northern India.

Every year in June-September, during the monsoon season, India is hit by torrential rains and flash floods. The monsoon is vital for agriculture, and thus for the livelihoods of millions of farmers. But it also causes widespread devastation every year in the form of landslides and floods that kill hundreds of people across South Asia.

More than 200 people died in the southern Indian state of Kerala in July when heavy monsoon rains triggered landslides that buried tea plantations under tonnes of rock and soil.

Monsoon rains in India began receding from the northwest of the country earlier this week, nearly a week later than usual, India’s state meteorological department said. Experts say climate change is increasing extreme weather events around the world, and dam building, deforestation and development projects in India are adding to the human toll.

Read more HERE

[pamelawalkerattorney]

Common Types of Cases That Granbury, TX Civil Litigation Lawyers Handle

Civil litigation involves a broad variety of general disputes or claims taken to court for resolution. Indeed, in Granbury, TX, civil litigation attorneys will represent individuals, businesses, and organizations in nearly all forms of civil controversies. Whether you are being challenged with a complicated business dispute or seeking justice in a personal matter, understanding the kinds of cases handled by a civil litigation lawyer in Granbury can help you better navigate the legal process.

Contract Disputes

Contract disputes are among the most common types of cases that civil litigation attorneys take on in Granbury. Contracts are the heart and soul of so many business and personal dealings, and when one party fails to live up to their agreement, it may lead to legal action. A civil litigation attorney can help you force the other party's hand on a contract by seeking damages due to breach of contract or defend against any claims of non-performance. These are cases that require much work when analyzing the terms of a contract, negotiating, and arguing in court, if need be.

Property and Real Estate Disputes

Property and real estate disputes are another common area in which a civil litigation lawyer is often involved. Cases relating to property boundary disputes, ownership rights, landlord-tenant disputes, or property transaction issues are probable. With heavy property ownership by most living individuals in Granbury, TX, an expert civil litigation lawyer could make the difference in protecting your rights in the case and ensuring a fair decision is arrived at.

Personal Injury Claims

Personal injury claims are one of the most common civil litigation cases in Granbury. Cases related to personal injury occur when an individual suffers injuries due to negligent behavior or willful intent of another person. In cases ranging from motor vehicle accidents to slip and fall or even medical malpractice, the civil litigation lawyer makes sure that the victim receives compensation for their injury and medical expenses, among other damages resulting from the incident. Such cases involve detailed investigations, presentation of evidence, and expert testimony to win a case.

Employment Cases

Employment disputes are among the common issues a civil litigation attorney handles in Granbury. Issues arising here may relate to wrongful termination, discrimination, wage and hour disputes, and breach of employment contracts. The employers and employees would have to engage a competent civil litigation lawyer well-versed in employment laws to resolve these disputes and effectively represent their interests.

Medicaid and Healthcare Disputes

These are uniquely specialized disputes involving both state and federal regulations. A Medicaid attorney Granbury, TX will assist clients  with disputes involving Medicaid eligibility, benefits, and compliance with healthcare laws. Many of these cases require inside knowledge of Medicaid laws and the ability to navigate the administrative processes involved in the resolution of disputes.

Business and Commercial Litigation

Business and commercial litigation simply refers to a broad class of disputes between businesses or between a business and an individual. The cases can include but are not limited to, partnership disputes, intellectual property rights, breach of fiduciary duty, and shareholder disputes. Because of the complexity of commercial law, it is important for any business concerned with interest protection and dispute resolution through an expedition to seek an expert civil litigation lawyer in Granbury.

Conclusion

These are the issues that civil litigation may cover, ranging from personal injury claims to complex business disputes. From a dispute over a contract, property issue, or employment concern, a Granbury, TX, civil litigation attorney can represent you through the legal process with the required skill and expertise to achieve your desired outcome. In particular, if you happen to have Medicaid-related problems, seeking an attorney specializing in Medicaid and located in Granbury, TX, will be very important. Knowing what type of cases, they deal with will not only prepare you for the common legal problems you might face but also equip you with the proper means of representation. If you have particular needs regarding how a professional civil litigation lawyer in Granuby can assist, contact Pamela A Walker Law Office PC today.