#considering all of our threads are suffering

[mavrintarou]

Lord Gojo Satoru [1]

Hi All, hope you all have been well. I'm going through a writer's block for Toru & Mateo. Bear with me. In the meantime, I can distract you with Lord Gojo #hearteyes

Lord Series masterlist

Part two

Warning: angst, violence (TW: description about past physical abuse Y/n suffered through), smut (18+)

.

Lord Gojo Satoru tossed the last scroll into the flame, destroying the evidence of details about the last remaining elder.

Satoru was known as the young Lord who rosed into his high position by diminishing the elders of his clan.

He was now the head of the Gojo clan.

He now reigns over the clan and will rise to make changes to his desires.

. .

“You must consider marriage and make haste to produce an heir, my Lord!”

Rolling his eyes, Satoru looked out the window, ignoring what the clan members he had chosen were saying.

Approaching the age of 27, he knew he could no longer delay marriage and the prospect of producing an heir. His only challenge was that he found none of the recommended ladies to be deserving of a significant role.

The only woman Satoru has ever believed to fit the role of being his wife and the mother of his children was the very one that he could not have. 

Yet.

As soon as she is found, he will bring her back to his kingdom.

“Any news on her?”

They did not need to ask who he meant, everyone knew he was looking for Y/l/n Y/f/n.

Gojo Satoru has sent special men to search for the woman who has occupied his heart, mind, and soul.

The eleven members glanced nervously amongst each other before one finally replied, “no, my Lord. We will continue to keep searching for her.”

.

.

Y/n turned her head towards the breathless maid running towards her. “Yuko, what is the matter?”

The young maid whom Y/n had watched grow up from a little girl stopped in front of her, leaning against her for support as she tried to catch her breath. “Y/n, someone is looking for you!”

Frowning, Y/n asked, “me? Who?”

Yuko shrugged her shoulders, “I was running errands for our Lady when I heard many talk about the new Lord who has announced a reward if anyone knew any information about…” she paused and looked around before whispering, “Y/l/n Y/f/n.”

Y/n was under a new name given to her by her new house, Yui. She has been using the name Yui for six years. Yuko only knew of her birth name by overhearing a conversation between her mother and Y/n.

Yuko pulls out a heavily folded-up piece of paper, handing it to Y/n. “I took this off the pillar.”

Y/n’s eyes widen when it’s a drawing of her.

.

Y/n served her Lady her evening tea. She bowed her head, bidding her Lady a good night but before she could exit her chamber, her name was called.

“Yuko, you may leave but Yui, please stay for a moment. I have something to discuss with you.”

Y/n nodded her head at Yuko, sliding close the door after her.

Lady Komatsu gestured to the spot across from her.

With carefulness, Y/n set her cane down and was about to lower herself onto the cushion on the floor when she was stopped. “Please, have a seat beside me.”

Taking a seat on the soft couch across from her lady, Y/n quietly asked, “what is it, my Lady?”

Lady Komatsu has been nothing but kind to Y/n, taking her in and generously treating her like a family rather than a maid.

“It has brought to my attention that…” she sighs softly, “someone is looking for you.”

She knew of Y/n’s real identity.

Looking up, Y/n inquired, “do you know… who?”

“Lord Gojo Satoru.”

Y/n’s breath hitched, she was sure it was him but a part of her hoped it was not.

“That was the previous family you served, is that correct?”

Nodding her head, “yes, that is correct. He is the young master.”

“Who is now the head of the Gojo clan.”

Y/n’s eyes widen at the news. Satoru couldn’t have become the head of the clan yet, his father and the other elders…

“He is searching for you…” Lady Komatsu raised a brow at her, “my next question is, do you want to be found?” She threaded her fingers together and placed them on her lap. “If you do, I will release you. If you do not… I will turn a blind eye and not know who this Y/l/n Y/f/n is.”

.

Y/n rubs the achiness in her right knee. Even after almost ten years, the pain would linger now and then…

Reminding her of her place.

Reminding her of her status.

That she was merely a maid for the Gojo house and falling in love with the young master Gojo Satoru was forbidden.

Horrific memories came flooding back as she shut her eyes tightly.

Beaten and bruised Satoru stood before her.

He smiled softly at her even with a swollen and broken lip. “Y/n…”

They both knew their love for each other would never flourish with their different statuses.

Y/n has tried many times to cut it off, to destroy their sad and pathetic love.

Her request to be relocated to a different Gojo site was approved. On the day of her relocation, Satoru caused a predicament and enough was enough from his father.

Y/n cried and tried to pull away from the guards as the other guards beat the young master in front of her.

“Heed this warning, Satoru,” his father gripped the chin of his son, “know your place.” He points a finger at the guards holding Y/n down.

It took Y/n by surprise, the next thing she knew, she was writhing in pain on the ground. She gasped loudly, clenching her teeth as she gripped her right leg. Her knee was bent awkwardly, blood began seeping through her kimono.

Satoru screamed Y/n’s name, trying to crawl towards Y/n but a heavy weight held him down by the back of his neck.

With one foot pressing down on his son,  he looks down at his son with cold hard eyes, “this is all your doing, Satoru. Next time,” his tone is icy, “it won’t end with just a broken knee.”

That was the last time they saw each other. Y/n was moved to an unknown location, sold, and served under a different master and family.

It has been six years and she couldn’t deny the knowledge of hearing him search for her after all these years.

But why?

“If you do, I will release you. If you do not… I will turn a blind eye and not know who this Y/l/n Y/f/n is.”

Y/n closed her eyes.

“Can I have some time to think about this?” she asked after a few minutes.

“Of course, think about it.” Lady Komatsu smiled, “I want you to be happy, Y/n.”

Can she truly be happy?

What was Lord Gojo’s motives?

.

Weeks passed and rumors continued that a young Lord was looking for a woman.

Locals have all turned down when being asked because only very few have ever seen Y/n and are aware that she is assigned to the Komatsu house. Maids leaving the compound were restricted and only a few were assigned to be the designated one to run errands outside the compound.

Y/n was serving her lady their afternoon tea when loud commotions were coming from outside.

“I’ll go check,” Y/n assured, setting the kettle down.

She hurried out to the corridor and froze.

Standing no more than twenty feet in front of her is Lord Gojo Satoru.

His eyes trail down to the cane she used for years. He swallows the lump in his throat and looks at Y/n in the eyes once more.

“My… Lord,” she barely whispered against the wind.

He stood before her in a blink of an eye, he closed the last remaining distance between them. His long arms wrapped around her frame, holding her close.

.

“Come with me,” Satoru squeezed her hands firmly, he had not been able to let go of her since he touched her. “Come home with me,” he pleaded softly. He looked across at Lady Komatsu and turned his body. “Please, allow Y/n to leave with me. I will compensate for the time you’ve taken care of –“

Lady Komatsu held a hand up, silencing Satoru. “You will not need to, Lord Gojo.” She looks over at Y/n, who is still looking down at hers and Satoru’s hands. “If Y/n wishes to leave with you, I will release her.”

Y/n lifts her head and at Lady Komatsu, her eyes brimmed with tears. “I do, I want to leave with… Satoru.” She turned her gaze to Satoru’s crystal blue eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks, “I want to go home with you.”

.

Satoru watched as Y/n strolled through the compound she had once called home, a place filled with both beautiful and painful memories. It was where their love had initially blossomed and later suffered.

The place where they last encountered years ago has undergone a beautiful transformation into a flower garden, adoring exclusively with her favorite flowers. He made sure only her favorite flowers bloomed there.

He could not see her face, but he knew the painful memories of that day were replaying in her head. Taking a few strides, Satoru hugged her tightly from behind. His left hand moved to cover her eyes, “I cannot erase that moment from your life, but what I can do and I promise you, I will create new moments to overcome them so that you will never have to fear it anymore.” He felt her tears against his palm and he slowly moved his hand away. “I have planted all your favorite flowers, see how it’s blooming for you… each time it withers at the end of each season and blooms at the beginning of the new season… it is a means of new life and starting over…” Satoru turned her around and tilted her chin upward. “It is a new season, Y/n. Please, start over with me?”

Y/n gazed longingly into his beautiful eyes. She reached up to cup his cheeks, her thumbs rubbing his cheekbones. She still could not believe that he was in front of her. “Satoru…”

Satoru gazes longingly at Y/n, “let us start again, together, with no one to interfere with our love.” The spark in her eyes turned into pain and sadness. He frowned, “do – do you not want to start again?”

“We are too different, my Lord.”

His light blue eyes darkened. All his life, he had only ever loved Y/n, yet everyone, Y/n including now, always told him they were different. “How? You are a human just like me? Are you not?”

His breath hitched when she pulled away from him, taking a step back. “You know how, my Lord. We are from different statues.” Her head bows, “you know clearly how it will not work for us.”

“Then why did you agree to come home with me?” He gritted through his teeth. He sees her flinch and he takes a step back, releasing a deep breath while running a hand through his hair.

Her sharp inhale before she spoke, “forgive me, my Lord. I was selfish and greedy at that moment and acted without the right mind. If – if you want to send me back I will gladly return.” She bowed.

Satoru closed his eyes and exhaled quietly. He opened his eyes, they were hard and cold, “look at me Y/n.”

She straightened her posture and looked straight ahead, but not at him. He found no light in her eyes like he did before.

A low growl rumbles from his chest before he tugs her swiftly into his embrace, locking his arms tightly around her. He won’t let her go. If he has to chain her by his side for the rest of his life, he will.

“I don’t care about our status. I love you,” he emphasized the three last words. He pulled away abruptly and cupped Y/n’s face to force her to look straight into his eyes, “I love you, Y/n.” His large hands gently tighten around her head, emphasizing his words. “I. Love. You. You, Y/n.” Satoru’s eyes softened and their touch lightened, “I have loved you for a long time and all these years.”

Y/n shut her eyes, tears spilled down her cheeks. “Satoru…” she wept quietly, “can you love someone like me? I am damaged.”

“Nonsense,” he growled, “you are not damaged at all.” Satoru was aware of the societal stigma associated with a woman perceived as ‘damaged’. Society would label her as such because of the limp she now bears.

“I am selfish,” Satoru whispered. “I am the reason why you now bear this limp for the rest of your life and I should do the right thing and let you go,” his fingers brushed her hair behind her ear, “but I cannot.”

“No my Lord – “

“But it is my life and my heart that I will offer to you,” his eyes stared deeply into her soft hazel ones, “I will give you everything I own, everything I possess,” he wiped her tears away, “so please, be with me. Stay with me. You are all I want. What I need to live.” He pressed her palm to his lips, “marry me, be my Lady, Lady Gojo.”

Y/n shut her eyes, tears rolled down her cheeks before she let out a soft sigh. She opened her eyes, and this time, they filled with hope, “you still wish to marry me even though I have no family and dowery to offer to you?”

“Yes. I have everything for us,” his blue eyes twinkle brightly. “You only need me and I only need you.”

She smiled, “yes, I only need you. I would love to marry you, my Lord.”

. .

“What are you doing?”

Y/n froze as she poured water to fill the tub. “I am getting the bath ready?” She answered warily, she wasn’t sure why the head maid was stunned.

Sumiko quickly marched forward and gently took the bucket out of her hands, “my Lady, if Lord Gojo hears about you getting your own bath ready he will fire us all.” With a hand motion, four other maids entered the bathroom and began filling the tub with hot water. “I understand you have done this all your life but starting now, it will be far different. You must let us know and we will prepare it for you.”

Y/n nodded speechless as Sumiko guided her to the living room, “please wait here, my Lady. Give us five more minutes, we will have your bath ready.”

“Of course,” Y/n waited patiently until a voice informed her that her bath was ready.

Y/n was amazed that within five minutes they were able to fill the large tub with water and added essential oil that calmed the air in the room.

Putting her cane aside, she began to undress before entering the tub. Releasing a gentle sigh, she lowered herself further into the water until she was completely submerged.

Emerging slowly above the water’s surface, she gasped at the sight of Satoru standing before her, naked.

She gawked at his toned chisel body before looking away, cheeks reddening. Her arms crossed over her chest. She looked up at him again when he moved to step into the tub, her eyes catching a glimpse of his manhood, semi-erect. “My – my Lord…”

Satoru submerged himself up to his chin and moved towards her until he was in front of her. “Satoru.”

Y/n avoided his eyes, “o – okay…”

His lips curve upward, “say it.”

She looked into his eyes, confused.

“Say my name, Y/n.”

“S – Satoru…”

“Again.”

“Satoru.”

“Again.”

“Satoru. Gojo Satoru.” Y/n growled slightly frustrated at his persistent requests.

Satoru let out a chuckle, “that is all you can call me.”

“Don’t tease me,” she murmured, looking away.

Sitting down, Satoru grabs her legs and puts them on his lap. “But you look so adorable fluttered.” He grabbed her right foot and began massaging it. His grip tightened when she tried to pull away. “Relax, Y/n…”

She bit her lower lip and stopped struggling. “I’m – I’m not used to this…”

“Not used to what?” His thumb pressed into the arch of her foot and smiled when she let out a soft and quiet moan. “Not used to being pampered?”

“Y – yes…” she nodded, “having… things done for me… it is weird, my L – Sa – Satoru…”

A smile tugs the corner of his lips, “well, get used to it my love, you are my queen and you deserve to be treated like one.” His fingers shifted to her ankle and then her calf, and slowly his fingers reached the scar. He heard Y/n’s sharp inhale. “I was stripped away from you, I was weak then and could not protect you…” his thumb rubbed the long scar. “I am sorry.” He lifted her knee gently above the water and for the first time, he was able to see the horrendous scar. “If only…” his voice croaked, “if only you received the best care…” then you wouldn’t have a limp now, Satoru swallowed the rest of his words in silence, pressing his forehead against her knee. “Nothing will ever harm you again, I promise. I’ll protect you.”

A small hand lifted his head, “I believe you.”

Like a puppy, Satoru leaned into her palm. “I have waited for a long time to be with you again, I won’t ever let anyone take you away from me.” He moved closer to kiss her lips softly.

Y/n cupped his face, bringing him closer.

Satoru shifted over to situate himself in between her legs, his fingers tracing along her inner thigh until they reached her sacred moist spot. The tip of his fingers tickled her folds, his eyes on her, attentive to her reactions.

She let out a soft sigh, one of her hands trailing down his arm and to the hand waiting for her permission. She peered up at him at the same time as she guided his finger to slip past her folds. Her breath hitched at the intrusion but he continued to push his finger deeper inside her.

His heart beat loudly and rapidly as her warm and soft walls clenched around his finger tightly. Instantly, his cock became erect, begging to replace his finger.

Y/n’s soft whimpers encouraged him to pump his finger faster until he was easily slipping one finger through her tight hole, he added another finger. “Am – am I the first to touch you like this?”

“Yes. Yes, Satoru…” she confirmed, easing his anxiety away. “You – you are the only one I’ve ever wanted…”

His crystal blue eyes gleamed, and she left him speechless. She could make him weak to his knees for her.

His fingers continued to thrust in and out of her, her whimpers gradually turned into moans echoing softly throughout the bathroom. He pressed down on her clit, circling the needy nub until she trembled under his touch.

Her small body curled up, eyes shut tightly as her small hands covered her mouth to prevent her moans from leaking.

Satoru chuckled lightly to himself, finding her adorable.

Very gently, he withdrew his fingers and let out a shaky breath.

“Y/n,” he called her name in a pleading tone, she opened her eyes and stared into his darker blue eyes. Her eyes drop down, seeing his other hand fisting and stroking his hard cock. “Give me your permission, Y/n. Permit me to take you, and make you mine?”

Without hesitating, she nodded, “yes, Satoru – my body is yours…”

Satoru’s radiant smile caused Y/n’s heart to flutter; in her eyes, he was the most captivating man.

“I have been waiting for this moment and I cannot wait a second longer.” Satoru easily lifted her out of the water, stepping out of the tub. He set her down on her feet, an arm wrapped around her waist as he reached for her yukata and helped her slip it on. Once it was in place, Satoru swept her off her feet, carrying her like a child in the crook of his arm.

“S – Satoru!” Y/n exclaimed, wrapping her arm tightly around his neck. It shocked her that he could carry her with just one arm.

Without covering himself, he walked down the hall naked until he stopped in front of a door. “This is our room.”

Y/n gasped at the size of it, it was a large room filled with decorations and furniture. Against the wall was a platform bed.

“But we aren’t married yet?”

Laying her down in the middle of the bed, Satoru hovers over her, “we will soon. As soon as I can orchestrate it. I don’t want to wait another second without you being where you belong, in my arms every day and night.” He brought her hand up to his lips, pressing her knuckles to his lips. “I know I am being greedy, but please, don’t deny me.”

Y/n’s lips curve into a smile, “how can I? I could never refuse you before, how could I now?”

His head rests against hers as he closes his eyes and murmurs, “I can’t believe you’re really in front of me.”

Y/n’s nose intimately brushes his, “I can’t believe it either… it has been so long…”

The second Satoru opened his eyes again, they were once dark and filled with lust. His hand loosens her yukata, revealing her beauty. He first pecks her lips, chin, and chest before stopping at the valley of her breast. Both his hands grasp her bosom, groping them.

Y/n’s legs widen to accommodate his body, she gasped each time she felt something graze her sensitive clit. “’Toru…”

He missed his name as he was distracted by her perky dark pink nipples. Unable to decide which one he should first suckle, he opted for the left side first.  He had been dying to taste her small nipples the moment he saw them during their bath.

Satoru moaned, swirling his tongue against it. He peered up, watching her face twist in pleasure.

Y/n whimpered when he shifted to the other nipple, she couldn’t believe how turned on she felt just from him suckling her bosom like a baby.

An image of a baby, with platinum white hair and blue eyes appeared before her imagination, her heart wanting nothing more.

“’Toru…” Y/n implored, “g – give me a baby… put a baby in me – please?”

When Satoru’s eyes bulged, Y/n felt foolish at her request. She looked away, hiding her face. “Ignore my request…”

Her eyes widened when she felt something push in between her legs, push into the passage where his fingers were thrusting in and out of moments ago. This time, it was of something bigger and thicker.

“Shh,” Satoru purred, slowly inching his cock deeper into her pussy. His body tensed at her tightness, thinking he had loosened her up enough to accommodate his cock.

He nearly lost his control at her request to put a baby in her. If he was honest with himself, the idea of children wasn’t on his mind. For several years, all he wanted was just to reunite with his love once again. To hear her innocent request, he was willing to oblige. He will give her as many of his children as she wants.

Satoru groaned when he could no longer push further into her pussy, she had taken all of him, just as she was meant to. He glanced between their now sweaty bodies, they were one, a unity. “Haa,” he choked, he shifted his weight to his elbows and knees so he would squish her. She was so tiny compared to him. Staring down at her, his whole body dwarfed hers.

He let out a husky chuckle, “my love, you humor me. You say that it is too early to share a room because we are not married yet but you request for me to put a baby in you…”

“Don’t – don’t tease me,” Y/n stammer, blushing. “Oh – Satoru… you’re – you’re so big…” her nails dug into the skin of his arms. She has been educated that the first time being intimate would bring discomfort but with time, it would bring nothing but pleasure. Letting out a deep breath, she relaxed her body the best she could. She looked into his dark eyes, “I love it…”

Satoru’s ears were ringing as he tried to control his urge to thrust. He was nearly coming undone at just being inside of her alone, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold off once she allowed him to move. “Love – love what?”

“I love how you feel… inside me,” she rested a hand against her bulging abdomen. “Here… I can feel you here.”

“Oh, Y/n…” Satoru groaned. “Please… let me move…” he begged.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, “do as you wish.”

Satoru kept a steady slow pace at first, giving her time to adjust to his movements. He was attentive to her moans and the way her body reacted before speeding up his hips.

The room filled with their sweaty skin slapping skin.

“Going to fill you up… fill you with my seed… give you my heir…” Satoru whispered hotly into her ear. His arms slipped behind her back, hugging her close as he neared his orgasm.

“Yes! Yes, Satoru!” Y/n chanted, widening her legs so he could impale her deeper.

Satoru’s body anchored her petite one down as his lower region was the only part pounding deeply inside her. The bed rocked with his hard and heavy thrusts.

“Ah,” they gasped in unison.

Lifting Y/n upward, he settled her on his lap, still embedded deeply inside her. She clung on to him while his cock continued to convulse.

Her head buried into his chest, she mumbled something he couldn’t understand.

“Hmm, what did you say?”

She lifted her head, her face flushed from their passionate lovemaking. “It was amazing…”

Satoru let out a laugh, Y/n joining him with her giggles. “I’m glad… you enjoyed it. There will be plenty more of it…”

. . .

E/N: This is going to be literally porn with a plot.

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[itsabouttimex2]

Eclipse Kings

Part Three: Wild Dawn

(Part One: Mountain Monkeys) (Part Two: Barbed Dusk) (Part Three: You Are Here)

(Extra One)

For almost all his life, Sun Wukong had never really known “want”, not for more than the few moments it took to decide he was going to pursue some fleeting and new desire.

The land itself seemed to conspire to his favor- he was borne to a thriving mountain of surplus and luxury, sparkling stream racing down each hill, bountiful orchards with boughs so heavy they dipper near to the earth. Even the horizon was generous, spanning sunrises to color his every lavish breakfast and hosting a banner of glittering stars to lull him to sleep.

He wanted for nothing, because when the world would not bend to his whims, he simply bent it himself- to the end result of power, luxury, and adoration.

His life was fraught with the inevitable turning of blades, stuffed full of motion, conflict, and inevitable triumph. His troop grew by the year, Flower Fruit Mountain knew nothing of suffering, and his treasury was brimming with relics.

A demon crowned eternal king of a flourishing mountain, untouchable and immovable.

What more could a monkey want?

Company, as it turned out. The varied little simians scattered all through the trees and bushes of his mountain were wonderful, of course- he cherished them all like his own children, and doted on each and every one of the little menaces.

But he still wanted more.

—-——————————————————————

“That, little mortal, is when I joined my Sworn Brotherhood!”

The Great Sage Equal to Heaven smiles warmly at his recited memories, claws lightly sifting through a large collection of traditional clothing.

“We were going to lead a siege on that stuck-up realm of Celestials, but my darling moonbeam had an even better idea- why not start our own kingdoms? Instead of teaching those stuffy old fools how to respect us, we could just show them up and take all their little worshipping mortals away!”

You don’t say a word in turn, still bundled up in a fluffy towel, sitting on the nearest chair, idly watching through blank eyes. Since you hadn’t been willing to walk or respond, Wukong had scooped you up with a sigh and hurried off to his and Macaque’s shared changing room, given permission to pick out some old clothes of theirs to give you.

“Of course, all of the stuff that was supposed to be boring was, uh… a total mess. Y’know, like deciding on territories, drawing borders, figuring out taxes—ugh. Mortals do not like taxes. Sure like ‘em better than being eaten by demons, though.” He chuckles at his own words, shaking his head as if to dismiss the unpleasant memories of bureaucracy. Wukong pulls out a black ceremonial robe embroidered with purple thread and holds it up against you, squinting as if he’s considering how it might look.

“…no. My sweet moon wouldn’t like you wearing this.”

“…s’it “too nice” for me?”

“…you mortals really aren’t the best with self-esteem, are you? No, little villager- it’s because he wore something like this when we were married. After that, he started commissioning seamstresses to make him more clothes like that robe… the actual thing is framed in a glass box over our bed. I don’t understand why Mac wanted that, but I can’t ever say no to him…”

Wukong’s voice trails off, tone softening as his gaze drifted to the ceiling. A smile plays on his lips, barely restrained, as he’s replaying his dearest memory of Macaque on repeat. You shift uncomfortably, unsure how to respond, the weight of his affection for his moonlit partner pressing against the silence.

He breaks it himself, but only after walking across the room and popping open lacquered wood chest, breaking the preserving sigil printed across it .

“You know,” says the king, his claws tapping the gleaming pauldron of gold within, “I wore this when we got married.”

He turns to the side, catches the fact that you’ve perked up even a little, and continues.

“It was the nicest thing I owned at the time- most of my outfits were skinned animals and stolen rags. This is something my brothers had given me, so it was the nicest thing I had that wasn’t my staff.”

Wukong’s fingers linger on the golden armor, tone rich with an ancient nostalgia. “I wasn’t one for fancy clothes back then- still coming around to it now- but I was even worse with it back then. I wanted to go in my tiger skirt and my old boots! But my brothers? Oh, they insisted: “You’re getting married- you can’t just show up looking like a bandit on your wedding day!” So they gave me this, and a nice red robe with a ton of silly characters embroidered into it- it’s framed right next to my mate’s robe, now.”

Say something. You need to say something. You can’t just mumble and mutter if you want to stay in a king’s good graces, can you?

“…do you… remember your vows?”

He perks with a smile, intrigued by the random question, entirely missing how dangerously close you are to cracking.

“Well, if that’s want you want to know, how about I tell you about the whole ceremony? Here, I’ll lay out how it went…”

——————————————————————

Macaque shuffles in place for a moment, old meekness returning to him- his hands twitch, and the notes smoothly inked onto the sleeve of his silk robe catch in the light, drawing his aureate eyes downwards. The crowd all around is nervous mortals and drunk demons, dressed in red or black or gold, held at peace mostly by his eager “brothers”. On Azure’s lap and shoulders are several children, more interested in his blade and snout than the ceremony. He’s smiling, more at ease than any other here.

The others for the most part are doing alright. Peng is preoccupied with their drink, casually allowing themselves to be marveled at by a blacksmith and a jeweler- though neither are allowed to touch, both mortals are fervently etching the gilded designs into their paper scrolls. The avian flaps those glimmering wings on occasion, causing streaks of light to flash over the modest venue, catching across the polished tiles.

Yellowtusk sits on a carved stone chair, marking the attendants in a neat ledger, made oversized to fit his hands. Several troops of Long-Tailed and Crab-Eating Macaques play on his trunk and tusks, their little fingers deftly taking hold in the cracks of his thick skin to ascend it. They don’t ever distract him for more than a few seconds, even when the youngest cubs forget their manners and start chirping in his ears.

The largest of their Brotherhood stands at attention in the doorway, toying with the straps of his battle axe. His face is painted with a rarely seen apprehension, looking back and forth over the room on occasion. Sometimes his gaze stills on a veil-shrouded woman with painted lips, and then he smiles for a moment.

The Demon Bull King is not nearly as subtle of a man as he thinks.

Not that it matters- when, for all that (which is very much) his Sworn Brothers know he’s courting a Celestial Maiden, they’ve chosen to keep an oath of silence on the matter.

(“He’s our big guy,” as Wukong had put it during one meeting months ago. “And we want that goofball to be happy.”)

(All of them- even Peng- had toasted to that notion, in the general direction of the bull’s empty chair.)

The mortals are safe. His brothers are content. He can do this.

Once more the dried notes on his sleeve catch Macaque’s attention, snapping him from the venue and to his golden love.

One last time he goes over them, dedicating those practiced words to memory.

He takes a breath, and turns to the audience.

“My mate-to-be is… molten gold, kissed by the rising sun. Beautiful is a shallow word to describe him- he is a masterpiece, a divine work of art carved by the heavens themselves. His eyes hold the all the world’s fire within them, blazing with the brilliance of a thousand sunsets. His laughter is a hymn to freedom itself, a melody I pray to hear every day for the rest of my life. When I look at him, I don’t just see a king, but the very heart of my existence, the axis upon which my world turns. He is my sun, my storm, my sanctuary, my everything.”

Several of the softer mortals are touched by his speech, lifting their cotton sleeves to the very corners of their eyes. Others only lightly clap, still uncomfortable at being called to the union.

Macaque does not have time to look away from before Wukong’s ginger-furred paws clasp onto his shoulders, holding tight.

There are no notes, no hours of reciting, no time spent with helpful Sworn Brothers to listen and offer advice, no matter how snarky- Sun Wukong simply turns from the crowd and offers himself.

“Macaque… I love you. I want you to be my mate forever. Until the sun goes dark.” Wukong's tail flicks behind him, expression softening with a rare blush. "Because... you're part of my story, bud. You’ve always been a part of it. And I'm tired of pretending like I can write the rest of it without you. Be mine forever and let’s be mates.”

The world is blurry, at least to Macaque. Nine and a half seconds prior he had thought there’d be some disappointment to push through, delivered an insincere joke or a vow written by another’s hand.

But there was only been Sun Wukong, love of his life, smiling at him.

“I will be your mate,” he chokes out, “forever. Until the sun goes dark.”

——————————————————————

“We’ve never been apart since then,” he purrs, dragging one claw over a hanfu the color of a sky on a gentle morning, toying with the white sash to untie it. “Not even for a day.”

Before you have a chance to respond, he plucks up the garment and holds it out to you. The size difference between him and the outfit is comical, and you wonder why these two demon kings have it in the first place.

“This should fit you, bud! Here, let’s get that towel off-“

You scream.

It’s not particularly loud or long, or even desperate- but it’s a scream all the same.

Worse still for yourself, you take this hysteric moment to lay on some shaky remand.

“NO! No more! Just stop touching me! I don’t- I d-don’t like it! You’re- you’re twice my size and you keep- you and him are always getting in my face and- a-and putting your hands on me, and I- I’m am so, so sick of it! I am not an o-object! I am a person! I am a person! I-“

“Quiet. Now.”

Wukong’s golden eyes narrow as he stands there, the weight of his presence pressing down on the room like a thundercloud ready to burst. His tail flicks sharply, but his voice remains measured.

…there are tears rolling down your eyes now, lost in the fluffy expanse of the towel around your body, sopping uselessly away as the king takes two footsteps to your form, frowning.

Not that it does anything to settle the rapid beat of your heart, crushed by the newly oppressive atmosphere.

“…you’re scared. I understand that. And maybe my moonbeam and I, we’ve been a little too hands on. That’s on us. But this my pagoda, and I did not build it by hand so that a little guest could yell at me. You know that you’re not a prisoner here. The doors aren’t locked, and there aren’t guards stationed outside them… now. I’ll let you get dressed- alone- and then you can eat. And…

“And no more touching without your permission. Okay?”

“…m’sorry. F-for yelling.”

“…I’m not mad,” he lies, one hand shifting to condescendingly pat you on the head. “I forget- my brothers, and my mate, too- we yaoguai just aren’t the same as mortals. You little things are scared too easily, and break so quickly.”

Something about hearing that is humiliating, but you don’t dare argue with him. Instead, you hunch your shoulders and cling to the towel, sniveling down at the floor.

Wukong’s frown softens the longer he watches you cry, all the sharpest edges of his irritation melting away into something closer to pity.

“I’ll leave it here. Call if you get lost looking for the kitchen.”

His words are painfully curt, and then the king is gone, golden beads and silk robes swishing behind him with each step.

You were never close, and only ever tangentially in the “good graces” of these kings. It’s not like you’ve shattered some precious bond.

But you still feel bad.

You wouldn’t, not usually. But as you unwrap the towel and begin to dress yourself in the lovely hanfu left draped over the chair nearest to you, the aches and pains of yesterday’s chase down the mountain weigh on you, just as MK’s new identity and newer happiness strike a deep point of insecurity- that you simply weren’t good enough to take care of him.

You weren’t good enough to provide for him anymore.

You wanted to believe you were more than them- strong enough to survive on your own, to fight your way through the world with MK in tow. But the truth was harder to face: Sun Wukong and the Six-Eared Macaque were meteoric gods, and you were just a mortal caught in the tides of their myth.

And where MK was thriving in this ecliptic chaos, you instead were already cracking under pressure after only a day spent before the kings.

…there’s a lovely silk pouch, dyed the color of new lavender blooms, hanging from the hanfu- you only notice it after tying the sash into a decent bow. The soft texture grounds your tumultuous thoughts, and a powerful aroma steadily drifts from within.

You fiddle with the tie and open the sash, revealing a dried bundle of orange blossoms tightly tied together, each stem marked with a glittering mystic sigil- 提高.

Whatever scent they would’ve had already was amplified by the marking, causing a heavy flow of fresh floral scent to ooze from the little purse.

You lift it and take a deep breath from the bag, allowing the veil of citrus aroma to utterly cloud your mind, providing it a much needed fog to rest under.

The soothing haze is slow to fade, even after you’ve pulled away and sealed the bag, but eventually you are left with only your steadied thoughts in the ornate chamber, amongst fine silks and polished wood, treasures of centuries past hung casually about It’s beautiful—almost too much so.

A reminder that this world of theirs is not the same of yours.

But you would not stop trying to survive in it.

You couldn’t.

[thefirstknife]

The Thread Unfurls Against the Clocks: Saint-14 and how we saved him

Hello. It's time. I already did one summary of how we saved Saint, but I want to go even more in-depth because I later realised that so much of this is unavailable and also happened so long ago that most people don't even know where to look for it and what to look for. I also want to address all the adjacent lore like the stuff about the Sundial and also how it all relates to the current plot.

Finally, I want this to serve as an explanation that there's something very weird going on and that the Saint we have is the real Saint. I've seen people already super resigned after this week's story, simply accepting that there was a reveal that he is truly the "wrong" Saint. I want to analyse all we have on Saint in-depth and focus on how we saved him to show the level of detail involved because I think it's important to understand things in the episode.

Obviously, really compelling lore changes can happen and work out, but in this case I'm just not feeling it, for various reasons. We'll see, but I still think this is worth putting together and that we have plenty of indications that we saved him "correctly" so to speak.

Saint is a unanimously beloved character and one that is so closely linked to our player character as well. The setup for his return was established so long ago and was kept consistent the entire time. I feel like the stuff in Echoes is almost like a culmination of it all, as well as a reminder about what we've done. We'll suffer for a bit for sure but there is no doubt in my mind that Saint will come from this safe and healed. No matter what ends up being revealed, I believe he will be fine.

Contents! Long post under. Spoilers for Echoes Act 2, mostly just in the Echoes section.

Intro

Curse of Osiris quest

Season of Dawn

What's up with the Sundial?

Echoes

Intro

I'm not sure how familiar people are with the full scope of Saint-14, but he's been a character since the beginning. We didn't know much about him at all; the first mention was in vanilla D1 in this grimoire about the Darkness, listing what various characters think about it. Saint's thoughts:

Saint-14's Position argues that the Darkness was an invading armada, an alien force of incredible - but tangible - power. Some adherents believe that this armada sprang from species rejected or discarded by the Traveler for their sins.

All things considered, he wasn't that far off! Really cool detail, but this lore was referenced in TFS, in the lore book Chirality, and especially Saint's bit:

* Saint-14's Position is the most eminently practical of the bunch, no matter how the man himself protests that such an obvious facet of the truth doesn't require a formal philosophical stance to be named for him.

There's 10 years separating these lore pieces! But they're still being referenced because there are some incredible nerds writing this.

This doesn't tell us much about Saint, besides that he's thinking in very practical terms. He views the Darkness as something that can be fought back. Note that at the start we don't know anything else about him, not even if he's a Guardian. In House of Wolves, we get this lore where the author (the Speaker) is going off about Osiris. We get a little piece about Saint; Saint-14 suggested that Osiris should become Vanguard Commander and also vouched for Osiris. This was the first piece of info that these two are familiar with each other. How far we've come since!

After that, we get his helmet as an exotic in The Taken King (though it has no lore other than the flavour text) and a little bit of insight into him with the first proper lore tab that actually features him as a character. It shows his iconic headbutt and ends with him deciding to follow Osiris to Mercury. A few little details are mentioned in flavour text on the following items, mostly quotes about or from Saint: 1, 2, 3, 4. Number 3 is interesting:

"Stand with your back to the Wall, and not even the Darkness itself will move you." —Saint-14

Remember that!

There's a few more in Rise of Iron, again, just flavour text. He's really funny here, and being his usual heroic self here. That's it for his stuff in D1. Saint-14 was some sort of historic figure, he was a Titan, he fought in historic battles, he fought against the Eliksni and he had some sort of connection with the Speaker and Osiris. He was a practical man, a warrior and a protector.

He wasn't really a full character or anything and only had a few quotes and one lore tab where he actually does something. But the stage was set! He was clearly a character they wanted to explore and they did, in Curse of Osiris.

Curse of Osiris quest

Curse of Osiris returned his helmet as an exotic item and immediately gave us hints about the expansion of Saint-14's character and where they're leading him. The lore tab on the exotic is a conversation between Cayde-6 and Lord Shaxx where Cayde-6 insists that Saint is not dead, while Shaxx is just kind of resigned to it. Cayde also notes that Saint was a "weirdo:"

C6: No one ever put down a Kell faster than he could. But man, he was a real weirdo. SX: Eccentricity was his strength. C6: Talking about the Speaker like you're related to him is eccentric. Claiming he's seen the future, that he fought Six Fronts fueled on the idea that some Guardian savior is coming? That's insane.

Wait a minute. Saint-14 claimed he's seen the future and that he believed in "some Guardian savior"? What's that about? Wink wink. Nudge nudge. To make things even more obvious, the remaining conversation is... about the Young Wolf:

SX: Belief is a hell of a thing. C6: Sure, yeah. One Guardian's going to fix everything. Kick Crota off the Moon. Make it look like us Vanguard know our head from our hindquarters. Hey, where are you going? SX: One of the new recruits from Old Russia I've had my eye on—entering the Crucible for the first time. C6: Hey, maybe they're the one. We'll call 'em Crota's End.

Maybe Cayde should've started making prophecies too! But yeah. This was the first proper hint about what they cooked up for Saint's story. Saint has apparently seen the future and believed in a "Guardian savior" and he fought for the City fuelled by this belief. Very interesting! To make things weirder, there's Saint-14's Gray Pigeon which also features some strange lore at the end where Saint addresses an unknown person:

To my inspiration. Your final gift to me I now send back to you. It will be good to see you again.

This was wild to read at the time because it clearly references something that we don't know about, but that's incredibly important to Saint. The theory was that he might be talking to us, the Young Wolf, but how?

That's where the quest comes in. Curse famously didn't have a lot of content, but it did have the post-campaign quest with Lost Prophecies. They were a set of quests where we essentially had to collect items to transform "prophecy tablets" into weapons in the Infinite Forge which was a sort of interactable area in the Lighthouse on Mercury:

There were a total of 11 of these, with the final one being to acquire the Perfect Paradox. Each weapon came with a prophecy in the flavour text and a lore tab. The final one however, Perfect Paradox, triggered a whole separate quest in two parts. In part one, we discover an old Vanguard comm signal coming from the Forest which we follow and analyse to discover that the signal is from Saint-14.

Detecting traces of familiar Light up here. Wait… Saint-14? He's been missing for decades. Saint was one of the greatest Titans who ever lived. Hero of Six Fronts. All that power and he just… vanished. The City's still looking for him.

This quest also features this conversation from Osiris and Sagira:

Osiris: If Saint-14 is lost in the Infinite Forest, it's because he came here to find us. Sagira: You can't blame yourself for every missing Guardian, Osiris. Osiris: For him I can.

If you're lucky (or unlucky, depending on how many emotions this gives you), you can hear this line from Sagira in Presage. This is where it comes from!

The quest is kinda set up in a way to make you think we'll actually be saving Saint here. We finally found his comm signal and it's leading us into the Forest. He's clearly affected the Vex and the Forest with his Light and he's fighting back. Osiris gets involved and urges us to find him. The whole thing feels like we're doing what we usually do; find a problem and fix it.

Part two of the quest continues in a similar vein. The quest is called "Not even the Darkness," btw. Remember that quote from Saint from The Taken King? Yeah. Anyway, we go back to following the trace leading us to Saint, into the Infinite Forest, this time into a simulated future. There, the Vex get alerted and summon a big Minotaur; Hagios, Reverent Mind (whose name means "sacred" in Greek, so essentially... Saint). We kill the Minotaur and then the area behind it opens; it appears to have been guarding it.

When it opens, we're treated to a bittersweet sight:

The area is beautiful, but it's a tomb. Saint-14's body is laid out like this in a pillar of light, surrounded by piles and piles of dead Vex. The Vex fought him for an unknown amount of time and they ended up respecting him; enough to create a tomb and seal his body and set a whole Vex mind to guard it, and apparently, revere it. Despite how hopeful we've been about saving him, he is dead.

As we approach his body, we take the remains of his personal weapon. Back at the Lighthouse, we use these remains and the prophecy to craft the weapon as it was; Perfect Paradox shotgun. The prophecy attached to it:

A tale that's different from the rest: the thread unfurls against the clocks. The one the Speaker loved the best must have a perfect paradox.

The prophecy is from Osiris, of course, which means that at some point when he was making them, he already knew about the strange fate of Saint-14. Not that he is dead; Osiris hoped to find him in the Forest. But his prophecy talks about time travel and a paradox. In the lore tab itself, Saint attached a letter to the gun in which he once again addresses a mysterious person. This person is now definitively identified as us:

All I have left is this weapon. The Cryptarchs say you crafted it yourself, built it out of scraps and Light and sheer will, inside the Infinite Forge. I'll make sure it finds its way back to you.

Well that's correct. We crafted the weapon in the Infinite Forge. But we only did so after recovering its remains from Saint's body, so how could he have had the gun in the first place? Almost like... there's some sort of a time travel paradox involved. This was naturally bizarre at the time; we had nothing else on Saint or any of this during this quest, just these vague baffling hints that there's more to the story. Especially since it involves our character; Saint repeatedly talks as if he had already met us. He says so in the letter as well:

I mourn that I will never reach the heights you have. To me, you represent everything a Guardian can become. Yours is a thriving City. So different from mine. My whole fourteenth life I fought to make my City yours. I never finished.

He knows that our City is thriving and that we are "everything a Guardian can become." But we've never seen him before. This was really confusing and there was also not even a promise that it would be resolved. But it felt like something that they cared about deeply.

It would take 3 years until we got the resolution.

Season of Dawn

This is a big one in general because they really wanted to be as attentive to all details as possible. Even before the season started, they released several weblore pieces to remind us of Saint and bring up some important information.

The first one was The Accolade, about Saint's past and heroic deeds revolving around saving people. The weblore focuses on explaining what his "accolades" are; aka his purple ribbons on his armour and ship. They're gifts from people he saved; tokens of appreciation that turned into a type of a ritual with Saint. If you're saved by Saint, you have to give him something purple and he will wear it with him and remember your name. It ends with Osiris shortly after we found Saint's grave. Osiris went to see it for himself, to check, to make sure. He also laments that he never asked about the ribbons.

The next one is a glimpse into the past, a conversation between Osiris and Saint as Saint hands him the Vanguard Commander title. It's a good look into how that all happened, as well as the differences in approach and beliefs between Osiris and Saint.

And then they released The Sundial weblore (TW for suicide if you're reading the full weblore. One of his Echoes does not have a good time). Osiris is found on Mercury with a machine he built, putting finishing touches on it. It's called the Sundial. Osiris built it in response to Saint being dead, the implication very much being that he intends to use some form of time travel or some other time shenanigans to change the outcome and save him. Osiris never recovered from learning that he's dead and from seeing his dead body in the tomb. The design is Sagira's, and he's also helped by Drifter, who shows up to check the math. I'll go more into the Sundial later.

Osiris wraps up his work on it and turns it on. He splits into his Echoes and enters the machine to start searching through Saint's timeline on Mercury with the intent to find the right moment with the right Saint to save him; he is specifically looking for the moment when they drain his Light.

Osiris’s Echoes scour Saint-14’s timeline on Mercury. But the corridors of time refuse to give way to the moment they need: Saint and the Martyr Mind in the depths of the Infinite Forest. The Echoes work tirelessly for weeks, then months in the space between moments. In desperation, he splits the dozen copies into many thousands more as the work continues fruitlessly.

Osiris experiences what the kids these days call "epic fail."

None of the Echoes ever approaches a Saint. They never find the right one.

Despite all the work put into this machine and all of his knowledge and skill, Osiris doesn't manage to use the Sundial successfully. He never finds the right moment and he never saves him. It's worth noting that when Osiris used thousands of his Echoes, he experienced the time and life of every single one. But for Osiris outside the Sundial, it's only been a few moments. In those few moments, he essentially lived thousands of lifetimes. And died thousands of times. I need people to understand the amount of effort he put into this and what kind of an emotional toll it had.

Completely defeated, he gives up and hides the Sundial. He moves on with his life, doing what he always does, until stuff suddenly changes, which is explored in the next weblore: Actions of Mutual Friends. Us killing the Undying Mind in the season before Dawn changed everything, for the Vex and everyone else. We essentially created a point of divergence. The Vex suddenly had to change their projections of the future; Osiris noticed this and got very concerned.

While he wasn't looking, his Sundial was found, by Psion sisters. They figure out the potential of the Sundial and work to reactivate it, which they succeed in. The Red Legion descends on Mercury, looking to use the Sundial to essentially rewrite the course of the Red War and win.

Osiris finds out and goes to Ikora, to the City, to ask for help. This is the topic of the next weblore: Desperate Times. Osiris defends his choice to make the Sundial to save Saint, despite everybody else basically trying to explain to him that the universe might implode because of it.

This is a lot of setup, but it's necessary. It all leads into what happens in the season and what the season revolves around; saving Saint. It wasn't even a secret, as they very clearly showed it right away in the trailer (best trailer they've ever done). The seasonal gameplay revolved around us using the Sundial to defeat the Red Legion and stop them from trying to figure out how to essentially change the course of history. We had to fight three different Psion bosses, one of each of the sisters, until the end, when the three of them joined together into a single Psion entity for us to defeat.

As we were using the Sundial for this, Osiris also told us about what he made it for originally. He explains a little bit about it and about his failure to succeed, then warns us against using it for ourselves, but doesn't stop us.

I told you before - I tried to save Saint-14. I bent the rules of time using a prototype of the Sundial. It allowed me to walk the corridors of time here on Mercury. But I failed. I never found Saint's final moment against the Vex. I encountered younger versions from his first mission to Mercury, among others. But none were the right Saint. The prototype Sundial still exists, accessible off the main deck. And it can still travel through Saint's personal timeline on this planet. But venture there at your own peril. He cannot be saved. I have walked every permutation of those corridors with a hundred thousand of my Echoes and found nothing. Saint-14 is lost.

Despite this, we make the attempt and then the first part of the quest starts. When we use it, the Sundial reacts. It reacts specifically to the Perfect Paradox:

The Shotgun you crafted in the Infinite Forge is reacting to the Sundial! An onboard transponder is broadcasting coordinates: a path through the Sundial, crossing two time periods. The prophecy blueprint you used to create the Perfect Paradox must have included this broadcast. If you can open up the initial chamber, I can align us to the first time period the broadcast is referencing.

The two time periods are two points in time where it's relevant that we meed with Saint. The first one is in the Dark Age, when he came to Mercury with civilians in an attempt to reclaim the planet and help the struggling population of Earth with resources and possibly old Golden Age technologies. We connect to Saint via comms. He is devastated and demoralised. He failed to protect his people and he's also under siege by the Eliksni and is more or less resigned to dying. Lucky for him, we get there in time to help him out of this situation.

After the battle, we talk to him. Our Ghost hesitates a little but then decides to do it anyway; he shows Saint the projection of the Last City from the future, to prove to him that the everything will be fine if he continues to fight and stays hopeful. We also give him the Perfect Paradox, to help him fight. The loop is set! This gun was crafted in the future and was brought to the past. In time, Saint will die with it and we will pick up its remains from his body, allowing us to craft it in the first place.

Saint-14: What is this? Ghost: The Perfect Paradox. Built by my Guardian out of spare parts and Light and sheer will to aid you.

More importantly, this is the moment that Saint spoke of to other people that made him seem crazy. As we've seen in lore from years before, Saint kept saying that he saw a thriving City and that there's some sort of Guardian savior coming and that he's seen this future. He also wrote in that letter how we gave him the shotgun and how we saved him. This part of the quest is constructed around this lore. This moment is what Saint remembered and talked about. We saved him and invigorated his will to keep going. This is why he is the way he is.

We part ways and leave the Sundial. Ghost immediately goes to check if we messed anything up and to let us know that there's one more point in time to go to:

Okay, let's check the Tower databases to make sure we didn't just wreck the entire timeline. Queuing "Saint-14"… Records state he was a former Commander of the Tower. He vanished on a final mission to Mercury in search of the exiled Warlock Osiris. Well, those are the big beats. Timeline intact. Good job, Saint. But our trip's not over. That broadcast I picked off the Perfect Paradox marked one more set of coordinates within the Sundial.

The second part of the quest started a bit later, but it doesn't waste any time once it does. We're immediately linked up to the other point in time that Perfect Paradox reacted to and we're back in simulated future, in the same area where back in Curse we fought Hagios who guarded the entry to Saint's tomb. Except now, we find Saint who has just had his Light drained from him by another Vex mind; Agioktis, Martyr Mind (note that the name is more or less in the same vein as "hagios," aka "sacred," dedicated to Saint). This is the moment Osiris was looking for, but couldn't find it, because he didn't have the Perfect Paradox.

This is the Vex mind they built to destroy Saint and we find him as his Light has already been taken. But Saint is still eager to fight and greets us happily. Unfortunately Saint is then restrained, the Vex doing everything in their power to kill him. However, this time he's not alone. We're there and we fight in his stead. We manage to piss off the Martyr Mind enough for it to now move to restrain us, which frees Saint, returning his Light to him as well. Saint then delivers the final blow to the Martyr Mind which frees us!

Saint-14: It's been a long time, my friends. I've chased your memory for centuries. You should go now. Those who could kill me are dead. You've made sure of that. Ghost: And what if the Vex take your Light again? Saint-14: Impossible. It cost them everything to build the Martyr Mind. When you crushed it, they were doomed. Ghost: You want us to leave you? You'll be stuck here for years. Saint-14: You've both done plenty. Just open the Infinite Forest gate for me. I'll meet you the long way around, at the entrance. Saint-14: What's a few more years of fighting Vex?

Saint decides to stay in the Forest and wait until we open it from the outside for him, in the future. This is how he leaves in the right time, instead of too early for his timeline, so nothing else is really affected. He waits it out and then exits the Forest at the time of Season of Dawn. This gives us one of the shortest but also the best cutscenes ever. As a note, in the cutscene, when Saint leaves, the Forest gate looks new, like from Mercury's past. This is because of the Sundial's effects on the surface of Mercury at the time, splitting the surface through time, so the Forest gate looked like it's from the past, but it's not. It's present day Mercury.

When we report this to Osiris, to say that he's amazed would be an understatement. I often quoted this from him, especially when people were being weird about Osiris and claiming he doesn't like us or whatever:

In his youth, he talked often about the Guardian who inspired him. I should have guessed it would be you.

We've done the impossible. Literally. The quest is called "Impossible Task." Osiris did everything and he couldn't do it and he lost hope that it would be done. But we did it, because we created the time loop; a connection with Saint that allowed us to use the Sundial in a way Osiris could not.

Saint has been saved! After this, he settled in the Tower. He had a series of minor quests and errands, the best one being the quest for the Devil's Ruin exotic which featured a really long and funny conversation between Saint and Shaxx. Another one is obviously the Corridors of Time quest which is genuinely cannot be compared to anything else as it was a community puzzle of epic proportions. An article that showcases just a little bit of how bonkers it was.

The important part of it is that the culmination of the quest featured us finding our own grave and Saint narrating a eulogy for us. This is important to us now for two reasons: 1) on our grave was a sword, a sword we received as an actual item in TFS, directly from the Traveler to fight the Witness 2) it's possibly a different timeline. The second one is unclear because we simply can't know when we die, but the eulogy specifies that the sword was shattered in the final confrontation where we died. Our current sword is chipped, and it wasn't when we originally got it in the campaign. So either this is a different timeline where it didn't shatter or this isn't that confrontation when we die and it will shatter at some other point in the future.

In this post I also noted how the music that plays in our grave scene and the music that played in TFS when we get the sword is the same. A very clear and deliberate choice. This is a very cool link to Season of Dawn that they brought back over 4 years later.

With the Corridors of Time puzzle ending and the Corridors closing, that concluded the Saint stuff. He was finally saved and he could rest in the Tower! And we know everything that has happened since.

Okay. So...

What's up with the Sundial?

We don't know! But I want to get into it because it's one of those things that they made sure to hint about, without fully explaining it so obviously every weird nerd online (me) wants to figure it out.

Back in The Sundial weblore, there are some peculiar and never explained details about the Sundial that have been kinda concerning and just intriguing to think about. There are a few lines essentially saying that whatever is at its core, it's not good. First is Sagira's:

“That work was theoretical! If the Vanguard find out what you did to build it—“

What did he do to build it? No clue. The infamous core is described only as:

He turned to look at the fluctuating glow of the exposed chronometric core.

When the Drifter shows up, he immediately reacts to this, fairly negatively which makes things more ominous since Drifter tangles with a lot of weird and bad stuff himself. So if he's disturbed about this...:

Drifter walked to the central spire and put his ear up against it. “This core…” he said, leaning close. His eyes darted back to Osiris. “It’s whispering.” Osiris’s expression didn’t change; his arms didn’t uncross. “We’ll seal the core away. I understand the ramifications.” “Good luck keeping that contained. Not something I would bargain with, hotshot.”

The core "whispers." Osiris understands the ramifications. They're both so frustratingly vague so the only thing we're left with is this ominous vibe of something bad being at the center of the Sundial.

This whispering, alongside a few other concerning descriptions and implications of the Sundial is mentioned in yet another weblore that I only briefly mentioned earlier because it wasn't relevant to Saint stuff; Sisters. It's about the Psions finding the machine.

The Psions could somehow feel the Sundial. Or perhaps just the effects it had on time on Mercury, even while it was powered down and hidden.

“Small disturbances,” said oldest Ozletc, the wisest. “Little currents in this timeline. Can you see them, sister?” “I can taste them,” said second-born Tazaroc, the hungriest of her sisters. “I can feel the edges.” Third-born Niruul, the quietest among them, reached her hand out to test the air. “As can I,” said she. “And something else. The source is disguised. The technology is Human, but refined. Surprisingly so.”

They also note the whispering, as well as its potential:

A strange device shimmered into existence around them. They looked up the length of an enormous, golden spire. “It whispers,” said Tazaroc. “Then block your ears,” said Ozletc. “Do you see the potential in this?” “Chaos,” said Niruul. “No,” said Ozletc. “Opportunity. See how it tugs at the fabric of our time? Can you see the seams?”

They also make the strange comparison to the OXA:

“It is so clear,” said Niruul, reverent. “An unobstructed glimpse into what was and what will be.” “Not the troubled ramblings of a mad thing, like the OXA,” said Tazaroc.

The Sundial offered something more and better than the OXA ever could, implying, perhaps, that these machines have something in common; possibly something beyond simply Vex technology. My insanity about this has been going on for a long time and also helped with the TFS CE lore. A bit of a tangent, but also possibly related, depending on what the core is.

Furthermore, Osiris refused to tell Saint about details of the Sundial, including remaining vague about its core in this weblore:

[u.2:13] One is a manifestation of Light. The other… reserved for Taken Kings. Better suited for traversing the Sundial because of what lies at its core. [u.1:14] One day you’ll have to tell me exactly what you and the Guardian did to bring me back. [u.2:14] We did what we had to. Trust me.

So what is it? Well, we know:

It whispers (very obvious and easily detected, both by Drifter and the Psions)

It's something bad (Drifter's reaction to it is uncharacteristic for a man who tangles with the Taken for a living and deals with strange dangerous artifacts all the time)

Osiris' Echoes are better suited for the Sundial because of its core, and Echoes are something "reserved for Taken Kings." Bizarre way of saying it to avoid explaining it

Similar to the OXA, and possibly any other time/prediction machines based on Vex tech (because the OXA itself is confirmed to be more or less the same as the FWC Device, for example)

To recharge it, we needed to feed it Light. This is particularly concerning with what Osiris says about it: "The Sundial is my greatest creation and my greatest regret. What I had to do to forge it I can never take back. As a result, it has components that consume Light. And if you're serious about operating it again, you'll need to feed it. Nothing is free. Ever."

What this points to, to me at least, is Darkness. The core is a Darkness artifact of some sort, merged with Vex tech. This only gained more proof to me with all the new lore about the Darkness and how it governs the mind and memory, especially when the Vex are involved. To the Vex, the future is memory. Merging Darkness artifacts with the Vex might be able to create dangerous time travel machines or machines that displace consciousness through time and timelines, like the OXA and the Device, allowing the user to "predict."

To make things even more convoluted (and me more insane), there's an almost perfect explanation for what this artifact might be. So perfect that I feel like it's too good to be true, tbh. It's a Nezarec relic. I will now list everything that connects this:

It would explain the Darkness artifact. Nezarec's relics were full of Darkness and were being used by utilising that Darkness

Drifter's involvement and experience with it. Hell, the Drifter may have even provided this relic to Osiris, since he had one and did not particularly enjoy having it, which was detailed in Lightfall when they showed us how he got it. Plunder was also rich on this, showing us that the Drifter immediately recognised the relics and understood what they were.

Whispering. Darkness in general has a whispering thing; the Veiled statues, the Witness, the old stories about Dredgen Yor, there's a lot of whispering going on here. But it's really super connected to Nezarec. His relics were whispering to us in the H.E.L.M.. The glaive? Nezarec's Whisper. Another disciple also called him a "whispering Nightmare." All of Root of Nightmares armour lore has it as well, with Nezarec tormenting his victims with whispers; for example here, and here, and maybe even here. I could go on. He's the whisper guy. Literally, Nimbus called him Mr. Whispers.

Psions. The Psion sisters found and reactivated the Sundial... Somehow. They especially were able to almost instinctively locate it despite Osiris hiding it well enough. The Psions also needed quite a lot of time to activate it again and admired the complexity of the encryption, despite it being human, so we can't really say that they found it easily because Osiris' did a poor job of hiding it. Were they drawn to it? Were they drawn to it because of its core? Psions are inherently linked to Nezarec. It's been confirmed back in Lightfall, but also curiously mentioned again in TFS with the Lost Ghosts quest (timestamped here). I'm definitely hoping for some Psion content in the future but this is fairly interesting in this context. Season of Dawn was really the only proper Psion-focused storyline.

Osiris' coma. His coma appears to have been somehow paracausal. At least strange! The scans were showing that he has "no residual activity" in his brain, despite us having lore from his POV showing us that he had a very vivid and visceral activity. He was able to feel some external stimuli, but was mostly drifting through strange visions, seemingly hopping between his... Reflections. Or possibly Echoes. His final thoughts here are also of the Sundial; as if his mind was somehow stuck in there, or lost, trying to find his way out of it. This could just be a consequence of his memories constructing something for him to experience so obviously it's just cycling through what he knows, but...

Waking Osiris up from his coma happens with the use of Nezarec's relics. An important point to note here is that this wasn't so much about it being Nezarec's relics; it had more to do with the inherent Darkness they consist of and Darkness can help the mind and consciousness move or awaken. However, given all of this and given his POV from the coma and the possibility that his mind might have been stuck somewhere with his Echoes in the Sundial, if the Sundial's core is a Nezarec relic, then a Nezarec relic had more chance to bring him back. It's such a perfect connection that I feel insane thinking about it and it feels like I'm constructing a fanfic, but also. I think it's worth considering. Cutscene of him waking up + article from Bungie that details on the whole idea of waking him up with Darkness and why that's important for understanding Darkness.

I have to mention the other theory, especially in comparison with all the above to try and illustrate why it never made sense to me and that is the popular theory that the core of the Sundial is an Ahamkara bone and that the Sundial worked on wish magic.

I'm not quite sure why this was even a theory to be honest. Even back in the day of Dawn, this never really resonated with me because it seems that the only reason this was a theory was Drifter saying "not something I would bargain with" and... Possibly whispers? Obviously a lot of things can whisper, and Ahamkara have been also mentioned doing so, but I don't find this significant to Ahamkara enough for identification just through that. I also don't think that one mention of the word "bargain" is enough either. Many have bargained with Darkness too. There's simply an overlap between Darkness and Ahamkara here, but there are also other pieces that are more closely linked to Darkness like eating Light. We could go even further, if we're considering Ahamkara; we could also consider Worm Gods, for example. The point is that several things can fit here, but I feel like there's overall more things pointing at Darkness.

What gets me the most is that they alluded to this in Season of the Wish, in what seems fairly obvious as disproving this theory to me. Riven and Osiris talk:

Riven: Isn’t it unfortunate your City hunted down all of my kind, Osiris? You might have wished for Saint-14’s return from the Forest. Osiris: And have him trade the Vex’s torment for yours? Riven: Perhaps you simply didn’t want him back badly enough to pay the price. Osiris: Save the bait for someone naïve enough to take it.

I talked about this earlier, but there's several layers of why the moment I heard this, it sounded like it's here to disprove Osiris using an Ahamkara. First, Ahamkara wish magic would be felt by Riven. If Osiris put an Ahamkara into the Sundial, then he did use wish magic and she would know about it. In that case she would not have said this; perhaps she would've teased him about using her powers to save Saint, but that would be a completely different sentence.

Second, Osiris is well aware and wary of wish magic. He knows that had he done so, he would've probably put some form of torment (wish magic backfire) on Saint. This, to me, indicates that not only did he not do this, he didn't even consider it as an option.

Third, if Osiris had an Ahamkara bone and was considering to use it, he could've just done so without building the Sundial. Why bother with the machine if you can just instantly make a wish and the wish doing exactly as you want? Obviously with a caveat, but still. It would've worked right away. Perhaps the Sundial was an attempt to contain the backfire, mixing wish magic with Vex tech to try and prevent the whole thing from going backwards, but even then; Osiris knew there are possible consquences.

And fourth, even if he did all that, it just didn't work, which would be quite uncharacteristic for wish magic. It's paracausal; it should override any Vex tech in the Sundial. If he made a wish, he should ask for a refund! The Sundial worked only because of the paracausal loop we created with the Perfect Paradox and it had nothing to do with anyone's wishes; definitely not ours.

One interesting thing for this theory is the way they said how similar wishing and simulations are. It happened in Wish and now again in Echoes. Here's a freebie for the Ahamkara theory enthusiasts.

Personally though, I simply feel like there's much more connecting and sensible explanation with it being a Darkness relic, rather than Ahamkara.

HOWEVER. The truth is that we simply don't know. I am personally more into it being Darkness (and Nezzy specifically), but I could be wrong and the Ahamkara theory could be proven correct somehow. Hell, it could be something completely different. It could also be nothing; as in, we will never know because they won't tell us because it doesn't matter.

And technically, it doesn't! Nothing really changes if this doesn't get answered. I want that to be clear. This isn't some sort of lore breaking detail. But you know. The nerds would love to know. I really wanted to get into this now that we've had a resurgence in interest about Saint and how we saved him.

Echoes

Okay, so why this monster of an essay? Well, because Echoes revolves around Saint and the Conductor trying to convince him that he's the wrong Saint. That Osiris acted out of grief and pulled a random Saint from the timelines, that he's simply satisfied with what he got because he couldn't get his original Saint because that Saint died.

Saint is convinced in this; that he's some sort of an aberration in the timeline, a simulation or a copy or just the wrong Saint from the wrong timeline. Even an error that must be corrected.

And I simply think that people are too quick to jump to the conclusion that this is the story being told, especially because of the radio message this week where we're shown that Saint and Osiris suddenly have different memories. But I feel like people have already forgotten the other radio message, from week 1. You know, the one where Saint and Osiris talk about their memories and the memories match perfectly:

Saint-14: Osiris. Do you remember when we knew? Osiris: Knew what? Saint-14: That we were meant to be together. There was one moment... though, it took us time to get to it. Oh, but our Hunter Vanguard, so smart, Tallulah... she knew before we did. All our little squabbles and bickering. She saw it first. Osiris: it, uh — ah, well, I was — obtuse. Stubborn. I couldn't recognize my own emotions. Then, Tallulah told me to.. "Be serious". Saint-14: Haha! I remember. So yes, she told me later. Was good laugh. Osiris: Well, I'm glad you found it so amusing. Saint-14: Who could not look back and smile? And I remember your smile, then. So knowing, and so full of our future together. Osiris: What brought these memories on? Saint-14: Hmm. I think about others who will have those same moments now that they know they will a future free from the Black Fleet. Now they have a chance to find love and be happy, like us. We can look behind, but also forward. We cannot see what is coming, but we know it is good. Osiris: You're certain? Saint-14: About us? Yes. Since the beginning. Now, and always.

We have this memory as a lore tab as well. I think this was given to us deliberately, to show us that Saint and Osiris have identical memories and that Saint's memories were never in question and that their history is perfectly aligned... Until he got yoked. Something changed when he got yoked, not when he was saved. This is a new development, which tells me that the Conductor did something to him, rather than Osiris saving the wrong Saint. Because until now, this was never a problem. Saint never had discrepancies in his memories before, with anyone he ever interacted with.

If we take a look at the whole story of how he was returned, it's beyond clear that Osiris was very fixated on saving his Saint, not a random one, and that we went to great lengths to do just that. We only ever interacted with one Saint, the same one, and we linked each other with the Perfect Paradox. It cannot be any other Saint, even with the existence of other timelines. This Saint and this Perfect Paradox are ours, from our timeline, the originals.

However, other timelines do exist. And some entities can access them. The Vex are obviously first on the list. Characters like Elsie and Osiris have also seen them. And clearly, the Conductor should be capable of this as well. It's beyond clear now that the Conductor is Maya Sundaresh. Maya, who was simulated 227 times by the Vex and had those 227 copies of her wandering the Vex network and different timelines.

If the Conductor knows where to look and how, she could see these timelines, including these other Saints, and she could've fed Saint false information while he was yoked. Implanting memories of other Saints perhaps, or something similar.

I know a lot of people weren't there for Dawn, let alone Curse. There's a lot of information about Saint here and a lot of really interesting clues from the past about what's happening now. It's also really interesting how many little details have been transferred through the story over time, showing that this is a plotline they care about very much and want to make sure doesn't get messed up.

There's probably a lot more stuff we could get into for speculation and explanations because there's still more stuff that plays a role in this. The Infinite Forest is a big one, and I suspect the Perfect Paradox is as well, as we're likely to get it next week or the week after as part of the story. Because it should be relevant to the story! It's an inherent part of Saint's story and why he's with us now in the first place.

So what's really going on? We're not entirely sure yet, but assuming that the Conductor is correct and that her messing with Saint is revealing something about Saint's legitimacy is I believe wrong. I think she's using him as an experiment and that she's messing with him, and by extension, with us as well. There's no way that we've had a "wrong" Saint this whole time and that nobody ever had any issues with him. That nobody had any discrepancies between memories with him. Not Osiris, not Ikora, not Shaxx, not Saladin, not Zavala or anyone else Saint interacted with since he's been back. As I mentioned, literally the first radio message shows us Saint and Osiris with matching memories.

It only started after he was yoked. Which means that the yoke and the Conductor did something to him, possibly shown him some other timelines or fed him false information.

Can't wait to see where this is going. I'm not sure how much this Act will cover and if we'll get a resolution to this right now or if it will stretch to Act 3, though if it doesn't get stretched, then I wonder what will the draw of Act 3 even be. Possibly just dealing with the Conductor? I'm very excited. This episode being so focused on Saint and Osiris and the whole throwbacks to Dawn and other past content has been really good. I'm enjoying it very much, this is my entire jam. I had high hopes for Echoes and so far it's been going great.

I'm super excited to see how they solve this and what comes of it and how much of this information will be relevant. And of course, if it will end up being correct! Because as much as I have my theories and as much as I'm convinced that there's something off here and that our Saint cannot be the wrong Saint, I could still be wrong. Looking forward to finding out!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello Miss Raven!✨💕

I would like to ask you for an imagine/scenario or character interaction with Crewel and Vil (platonic ofc), where they talk about fashion and everything like the queens they are and they just always have the hottest tea! Talking about the school etc.

It's a casual fic idea without any angst or things like that, maybe somewhere along the way they start talking about Yuu who's Vil's friend, that he has a bit of a crush on? It may start at the Vil's alchemy lesson or smth-

Anyways, the main focus is hot tea between the fashion queens🙏👑 Thank you!💖

This interaction takes place after the events of book 6, so there will be spoilers for that.

I kept the “Vil has a crush on Yuu” element out of this particular interaction since I didn’t find it super relevant 💦 I want the focus of this blog event to be Crewel and his relationships with others. Maybe if the interaction had been posed like Vil coming to Crewel for love advice (since Crewel is a trusted adult for him), it could have fit better. Either that, or I’d advise waiting for more generalized writing requests to open ^^

If he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will.

“Crewel-sensei.”

He turned at the call of his voice. “Schoenheit.”

Vil, dressed in his labwear, approached. A beaker of a bubbling substance carefully was ferried in his gloved hand, which he offered to his instructor. “The Peddler’s Disguise is done. You may evaluate it for its quality.”

Crewel accepted the potion, gently swirling it to test the viscosity and noting the color.

“It was brewed with mummy dust, black of night, an old hag’s cackle, and a scream of fright. I then churned over high heat with a blast of wind and a thunderbolt.”

"You've memorized the recipe. Excellent work." Crewel set the beaker down on a lab bench and marked off Vil's name on a clipboard. "You're making up for lost time at a record pace."

"Of course. There is no excuse for falling behind," Vil insisted, tossing his blonde hair over one shoulder.

Crewel quirked a brow. "Not even being kidnapped? How strong-minded of you. I was surprised when you came to me asking to hit the ground running with makeup classes upon your return.”

He looked Vil up and down. “You remain put-together for someone who has gone through an event most would consider unsettling. Is it your PR training keeping you cool in the public eye?”

Vil folded his arms. "... If you're trying to be subtle with your worries, then you're doing a poor job of it, sensei.”

"And is there a problem with a teacher having concern for his student?”

“No, not at all.” A smirk flickered onto Vil’s lips. “Then shall we drop the pretenses? Though so bear in mind that I am under a strict NDA, so I can only divulge so many details.”

“Let’s,” Crewel agreed. “I presume you cannot share the bulk of your harrowing experience.”

Vil nodded. “But fortunately, I can tell about the worst of it… The atrocious lack of attention to self care!!”

“Our school uniforms were taken away and we were made to wear the same sterile grey uniforms every day. Threads as thin as hospital gowns, collared like misbehaved mongrels… Why, it was the worst injustice I faced in that facility.

“Not only that, but the air in the enclosure was stale and terribly drying.” Vil patted his cheek and shuddered at the memory. “It wreaked havoc on my skin.

“Worse still was that I was denied access to any skincare products and cosmetics! I was told that they were a safety hazard and to ‘rinse off with water and soap and go bare faced for a while, what are you aggro’ing about’!! Can you believe the GALL?! I was just about ready to let the staff have my wrath.”

Vil paused, taking a breath to calm himself. “… I was only saved thanks to a gaggle of nosy potatoes and a certain huntsman.”

“Speaking of, Hunt caused quite the stir at school when he vanished. Pomefiore was already suffering without its dorm leader and expected its vice dorm leader to step up fill that role in your stead… but with Hunt mysteriously gone, Pomefiore was without anyone in charge.”

“As I rightfully scolded him for.” Vil sighed deeply. "I was informed that Trein-sensei served as acting headmaster while the situation was unfolding. How did he address the issue of Pomefiore's missing leadership?"

"You're looking right at him," Crewel replied with a dry laugh. "I was called in to supervise the dormitory on top of my usual teaching duties. It seems the old man... excuse me, I mean my esteemed colleague, decided to put his faith in his favorite ex-troublemaker. Who was I to deny him?

"For the time Hunt and his rescue squad were away, I stayed at Pomefiore and kept watch over its students. What a mess—there are hardly time for my personal upkeep, nor a moment to steal away and seek the comfort of my beloved dogs... My clothes were horribly creased and my hair unkempt when the news first broke of your return.”

"What a harrowing tale of sacrifice. I apologize for the inconvenience my vice dorm leader imposed on you. He'll be getting another earful from me.”

“Hmph, no need. Though it was an inconvenience at the time, I am glad to see that you’ve come back to us safe snd sound. Perhaps it is not so bad for you pups to act selfishly every now and again.”

“Oh? Careful, Crewel-sensei. We may just take that as the green light to behave even more selfishly.”

“Then I will be there to keep you in line."

"Is that so? I'll be holding you accountable to that promise."

"And I'll be holding you accountable for your dorm's students," Crewel promised with the same ease as Vil.

There was a mutual understanding between them, the same spark set in their eyes. Teacher and student, fashionista and fashionista.

Together, they radiated an overwhelming aura.

[lihyot-am-chofshi-beartzeinu]

This was sent to my main but I didn't want this putrid shit on my aesthetic blog. @trudgemank99, I'm going to try to explain this as best I can without insulting you.

Zionism is not a fascist ideology, and it is not responsible for an "ongoing genocide".

You don't even know what Zionism is. Seriously, you and others like you straight up don't even know what it means. You don't know its history, you don't know its cultural and religious significance, you don't know its politics, you don't know how it has saved so many Jewish peoples' lives over the 20th century. How dare you apply your own made-up interpretation of it to give you an excuse to go around harassing Jewish people on the internet?

You know how I see you? I see you as a Nazi. Because you have replaced "Jew" with "Zionist" in your vocabulary, so that you can get away with the same hatred of Jews that has festered within society for thousands of years.

You claimed in that other thread that you cared about the Palestinians. But you don't, because instead of, oh, I don't know, donating to charities or uplifting Palestinian voices, or even supporting joint Israeli-Palestinian peace movements like Standing Together, Women Wage Peace and A Land For All, you chose to desecrate the images of dead and grieving Palestinians who are victims of the tragedy of the conflict to "prove" it was a genocide (it's not; the ICJ ruled that Israel must take steps to prevent actions that could be considered genocidal. War and civilian death is horrific enough on its own; you gain nothing by misrepresenting what it is.)

You couldn't even name a single person in those pictures when I pressed you. I don't even know if those photos were of the conflict, because you didn't link to any reputable sources or date the images or name the photographer. For all I know they could have been pictures of the devastating war in Syria, which have taken on a second life with people attributing them to Gaza. Either way: how dare you use the dead as props. They were real people with real families and friends left behind to suffer - they are not your "gotcha" gore card to play on the internet.

Despite all of that, I don't hate you. I don't hate anyone. I don't want anyone to die. I want the conflict to end but I am realistic about why it occurred and why there is no ceasefire yet (hint: it's because Hamas keeps refusing ceasefires, because they want to send as many Gazan civilians to their deaths as they can). There is nothing I can say or do on my blog that will work towards an end to the conflict, and nothing I can do or say in my real life that will end the conflict - because I don't have a direct line to Netanyahu's office, and calling my local politicians here in Australia will accomplish fuck all. Because Australia doesn't influence Israel, just as Israel doesn't influence Australia.

So how does ranting incoherently at Jewish people on Tumblr save Palestinians? Go on, answer how screaming at me demanding I call it a genocide helps anyone.

I'm not defending Israel. I don't need to. What I do talk about is fighting Antisemitism and anti-Zionism - because there is no difference between them anymore. You and people like you might keep using the word "anti-Zionist" (something that I consider to be grossly inappropriate and culturally appropriative, actually) but we all know that, deep down, you're just Jew-haters.

If you can't admit to yourself that you are operating on a basis of incoherent hatred for Zionists (aka Jewish people who believe in the existence of a Jewish homeland in our ancestral land of Judea; something, by the way, that is fully compatible with the existence of a Palestinian state) then I'll do it for you: you are a Jew-hater.

Oh, wait! You did admit it:

Thank you for this mask-off moment. Truly.

[rockingrobin69]

Routine

“Harry, wait, you’ve—your bloody jacket,” stopped him at the doorway with a roll of his eyes, this long-suffering look that failed to hide a smile. “Getting a little forgetful in our old age?”

“Shut up,” Harry laughed, deliriously fond. “I wouldn’t have to rush out if someone didn’t take so long in the bathroom.”

“Did you believe all this happens naturally?” shaking his long, lovely hair in emphasis. Harry, who’d seen this trick a thousand times before, drank the sight hungrily: Harry, who’d seen Draco when he just woke up this morning, knew the statement for the rubbish it was.

“Cute. You’re stalling, and I’m going to be late.”

Draco quirked an eyebrow. “Not exactly holding you here by the tie, am I.”

Disappointedly: “Hmm. I suppose not.” Rectifying immediately with a step closer, arms wrapping around Draco; inhaling deep the sharp smell of his aftershave, of his fancy face cream Harry still occasionally had to lick.

“Now who’s stalling,” but his voice was soft, punctuated with tiny kisses to his jaw. “Harry. You’ll be late. And you’ve got that lecture today, the one you kept droning on and on about.”

While he had one arm around Harry’s shoulders, a hand threading through his hair. “It’s only, I’m a little entangled here. See, I’ve got this partner who keeps insisting he’s not clingy.”

“Surely he’s not. Did you consider the fact you’re extremely touchable? And besides that he’s maybe a bit gone for you, and cannot be blamed. Not so early in the morning. What? Stop looking at me like that, you started it, and I wouldn’t take so long to wake up if you hadn’t insisted on staying up late last night, with your,” stopped to laugh, croaky and loud in Harry’s ear, to shake his head with his eyes all grey.

A burst of it in his chest, star-bright. “You love me,” Harry said, stupidly, helplessly happy.

“Shock and awe.”

“You love me,” grinning like a fool, crushing Draco closer by the hips, peppering his face with kisses: “you really do.”

“Every bloody morning,” but he was laughing too. “You’re a ridiculous man, Harry Potter.”

“And you still love me.”

Draco, in his arms, dramatic and fidgety. “And yet I somehow still do.”

“Darling,” giddy with it, rubbing his nose against Draco’s cold one. “You’re freezing. You should get back inside, get some sleep.”

“I would, only there’s this brute who won’t let me go.”

The thought of him back in bed, wrapped under a warm duvet was slightly devastating. Trying for a brave smile, “Well, did you consider you’re very touchable.”

“Am I? That’s news to me.”

A huff, and affection tearing through him, impossibly tight: “Right, okay,” forcing his hands away, his legs a step back. “I really have to go.”

“Wait,” Draco said, forehead crinkling, “aren’t you forgetting something?”

“You already brought me my jacket.”

“Fuck your jacket. Something actually important.”

“Oh!” sweeping him in his arms once again, delighting in the way his head tilted up, expectantly, for a kiss. In delivering one at a time, deliberate. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Draco allowed this for a moment longer, then pushed Harry away, flushed and awfully dear. “All right, off you go. Did you know you’re an utter sap.”

“Only for you.”

The long-suffering look. “Oh, the things one is willing to put up with.” But he stayed there, bracing a bare shoulder against the doorway, and it was morning-cold outside, and he couldn’t really hide the smile.

“Yes, poor you,” Harry said, and kissed him again just because.  

(Flufftober day 3. Find the soft AO3 collection here).

[kayotic-catgirl]

everyday i wake up and think about how anya uses the phrase "our worst moments don't make us monsters" vs how jimmy uses it. the way they use this phrase is so similar and yet so so different.

anya says she has to believe it. it's a lifeline, a thread she desperately clings to. she needs to believe it to keep herself sane while trapped with her rapist as she tries to keep her captain, who failed her when she tried to reach out for help (not even considering the fact that she's under the impression that he crashed the ship. this gives her a whole other reason to be upset with him), alive through his suffering.

jimmy has to believe it as well, even though he doesn't say that directly. he uses it as a lifeline, but in a different way from anya. he needs to reassure himself that he's a good person, that all the horrible things he's done are absolved because of it. he crashed the ship after realizing the woman he sexually assaulted got pregnant as a result of his actions. but our worst moments don't make us monsters, right?

anya uses the phrase to cope through living with a monster. jimmy uses the phrase as a monster trying to deny what he is.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY COMMANDER SHEPARD  *  assorted dialogue from the mass effect trilogy

it's a big stupid jellyfish.

i don't know what i'd do without you.

you're working too hard.

i'll let you get back to work.

i'm sorry, i'm getting a lot of bullshit on this line.

if i'm walking into hell, i want someone i trust at my side.

oh, now it's personal.

you think we're going to lose?

you'll never be alone.

no matter what happens here... you know i love you. i always will.

i haven't forgotten our time together.

i want you. i want someone i can trust.

i don't know what we're gonna find in there, but i'm not going to lie to you. it's not going to be easy.

i've had enough of your snide insinuations.

it's all just part of the job.

i'm getting a little worried about you, [name].

this shop discriminates against the poor!

consider me officially offended.

you know, [name], if you're not comfortable with this, it's okay. i'm not trying to pressure you.

when should i book the room?

can one of you clarify?

they want to know what we're made of? i say we show them, on our terms.

i should be going.

it's been a long journey, and no one is coming out without scars.

i guess i'm on my own. again.

you don't need to hurt him to get what you want.

you have got to be kidding me.

if i didn't have authorization, how did i get in? you see any other doors?

make me proud. make yourselves proud.

what's that you're drinking?

i just saved your ass.

be alive with me tonight.

sometimes things don't work out the way we'd like. that's just life.

i'm the only thing standing between you and a hole in the head.

i don't argue with plants.

[name], this doesn't have to be hard.

get the hell off my ship.

are you naturally this bitchy, or is it just me?

what are we going to tell them? i had a bad dream?

good times are over.

it's not too late. you don't have to go through with this.

one way or another, we're taking this bitch down.

i told them where to shove it.

you getting soft on me, [name]?

we could test your reach... and my flexibility.

this war has brought us pain, and suffering... and loss.

i assume everything's going well up here?

i don't know what drugs you're on, but stay back and i won't shoot you.

i thought you were a friend of mine. you've got the same suit.

sounds like he needs to get shot.

i've been getting that a lot.

look around you. you're not in this fight alone.

i don't have time to babysit you, [name]. find a way to deal with it.

have you got a minute to talk?

here i am. exactly where i want to be.

never hesitate when you've got the enemy in your sights.

give me what i want. now!

lay it on me, [name]. i love bad news.

i should go.

hell, [name], you were always ugly.

i hadn't heard that. is there anything i can do?

someone piss in your coffee today?

how do i shut this thing up?

i can't promise how things will work out... but i missed you, [name]. i thought about you a lot.

everything we've ever known... it's all hanging by a thread.

something on your mind?

maybe you're right. maybe we can't win this.

keep it up, tough guy. you'll leave in a bag.

you kill people because you think they're beneath you; they're in your way. i kill people because they leave me no choice.

i don't know if i'll be coming down here for these talks anymore.

can we ever be ready for a battle like this?

[eefaevie]

✨ my official good omens s3 prediction post ✨

which accidentally I guess comes with a side-order of analysis and a soupçon of meta because I can’t shut up

The quote "The plans for Armageddon are going wrong. Only Crowley and Aziraphale working together can hope to put it right. And they aren’t talking." is intentionally misleading.

I think with Aziraphale gone, Crowley is going to become Grand Duke of Hell. He’s hurt, he’s tired, he’s got nothing to lose anymore. He’s also a bit of a dramatic petty bitch (affectionate), and after suffering what he considers the ultimate betrayal from Aziraphale, he wants to hit him where it would hurt equally by joining the “bad guys” fully. Crowley thinks of himself as unforgivable, and since (in his mind) Aziraphale refuses to “see” him for who he really is, he’s going to force him to by acting out like this (beside the fact that we know that this isn’t actually who Crowley is, but he’s injured and lashing out, even if it hurts himself, too.)

So, that quote. The plans for armageddon are going wrong. as in heaven can’t get it to start. And the only way they CAN get it to start is to get the Grand Duke of Hell and the Supreme Archangel to work together, which they are refusing to do. Think about all those meetings between Gabriel and Beelzebub — those definitely didn’t start off as dates, they were business meetings. And so Aziraphale and Crowley REFUSE to speak to each other (with MAXIMUM pettiness and passive aggressive comedy) because they’re both mad at each other for their mutual miscommunication, but also because they KNOW that if they do work together they’ll end up fucking it up somehow (and actually set the second coming back on track, which they obviously don’t want). The one thing that is a common thread through Good Omens is that Aziraphale and Crowley are actually kind of useless at their jobs, and they usually end up accomplishing the opposite of whatever it is they are supposed to do. Aziraphale is still in the grip of heaven, and can be manipulated — while Crowley is probably still terrified of Satan, and now that he’s kind of recklessly agreed to such a big promotion, that’s now his immediate superior.

(So really, if you’re useless at your job, and consistently do everything wrong, and you’re trying to stop a massive project — the best place to be would probably be in charge of that project, no?)

So anyways, cue Muriel being used for the most immature go-betweens (“Muriel, dear, please tell the Grand Duke that I won’t be able to make our dinner reservation this evening because he is a lying snake.” “Muriel, tell the Supreme Arseangel that I never made the reservation anyways and his holiestness was presumptuous to assume so.” etc etc)

I’m also betting that the Metatron orchestrated his offer to Aziraphale very intentionally, because he knows that they’re each other’s most precious thing, and he knew that raising Crowley would be the best possible offer to get Aziraphale to agree, but also, he knew that Crowley himself would never agree to it. Which left Aziraphale in a tricky position. He’s still too afraid of heaven to back out, and by separating him from Crowley, the Metatron thinks he has succeeded in both eliminating the biggest threat to the second coming (the earth’s only professional apocalypse-thwarters with extremely powerful joint miracles) and planted (what he believes to be) a huge pushover of an angel in the seat of power — essentially a puppet for the Metatron’s commands.

(I’m not even going to get into the alleged threat of the book of life at this point, but that’s it own big bag of worms)

Problem is, the Metatron severely underestimated how much these two are idiots, how far they’re willing to go for love (or how far they’ll go when they believe their love has been scorned), and again, I cannot stress this enough — how much they’re both idiots.

Crowley accepting the position of Grand Duke seems out of character, until you realize it absolutely is not. (The same thing goes for Aziraphale accepting the position of Supreme Archangel, btw.) With everything else happening, it’s going to be effectively Crowley’s only option — Aziraphale is gone, the second coming is coming, and there’s a convenient little vacancy at the top of Hell’s hierarchy. He’ll take it because he’s upset and hurt by Aziraphale, but he’ll also take it because he’s angry, and it’s the only way he can possibly have any impact on what happens next.

I’d go so far as to say that Crowley loves Earth primarily because he loves Aziraphale, and Aziraphale loves Earth. Crowley is always the one to suggest running away when the going gets tough, because his top priority is always Aziraphale’s safety. If the Earth ends up a casualty, well, boohoo, at least he’s got his Angel with him. Now, though, he’s got no Aziraphale — so what’s the point in sticking to Earth? Remember how he pretty much immediately gave up on stopping the apocalypse when he thought Aziraphale was dead? Yeah. (In fact, he probably realizes very quickly that if he wants any hope of having Aziraphale back and sharing their lives together — this time for real — he has to take drastic measures to make sure Earth and humanity survives. He’s an optimist, and he’s also selfish.)

So, surprise, Metatron! You just took these two will-they-won’t-they eternal virgins and made them business partners. Which is an issue.

Because remember, for one supreme archangel to fall in love with the grand duke of hell during dubious business meetings makes a good story. For it to happen twice makes it look like there is some kind of… institutional problem.

We’ve taken the “workplace” in “workplace comedy” and dialled it up to 12. Now it’s not two salarymen from rival companies just kinda begrudgingly doing what they’re told until they don’t, it’s two high-ranking executives from rival companies who’ve decided they’re in love with each other, they’re done with this shit, and they’re taking the whole industry down from the inside.

Never forget that Good Omens is, at its core, a comedy. I believe we will get the romantic south down ending, for sure, but the path to get there is going to be a farce. They’re not talking — perhaps only in the business sense — so who knows the hijinks and shenanigans and making out they’re going to make everyone around them put up with this season. Aziraphale orchestrated an entire Jane Austen ball for Crowley before they’d even touched mouths. They’re going to be insufferable and I’m praying for Muriel’s sanity.

Finally, the final element of my prediction: Jesus will be there, probably. Maybe even Adam, too! Maybe it’ll even be lost celestial baby pt. 2: electric boogaloo. (as you can see my priorities are mostly regarding what happens with Aziraphale and Crowley lmao)

(and also, you know that dinky little half miracle they pulled together for jimbo? They were a couple of nobodies then. Imagine a full-powered joint miracle between a Supreme Archangel and a Grand Duke?)

(…Imagine a full-powered joint miracle between two supreme archangels and two grand dukes? 👀 ok ok who knows but also I’m not convinced we’ve seen the last of beez and gabe)

ok bye ❤️

[pugetprincess]

reposting because i completely forgot i wrote this during covid for a wip chain game (those were fun).

bridgerton au ginny & draco:  

“No one,” Malfoy drawled, “And I mean no one, would believe you and I are courting.”  

Ginny smiled.  “No one our age maybe, no, but the older warlocks breathing down my neck?  The matchmaking mamas chasing you around the ballrooms and dinner halls?  They will believe it.”  

Malfoy looked down his nose at her, drumming his fingers along his crossed arms in consideration.  

“Not to mention my Aunt Muriel.  She keeps pushing me to dance with you at every opportunity, even after I told her what a total prat you are,” she muttered.    

Malfoy sneered down his nose.  “Weasley, you should be so lucky that I’d deign to show any interest whatsoever in you.”  He narrowed his eyes, “And just to be clear, my mother forced me to dance with you at the Patil Ball.  I certainly didn’t want to.”  

Ginny rolled her eyes.  “Whatever, Malfoy.  Look, I think this would be a great opportunity for us to solve both our problems.  Are you in or are you out?”  

His eyes drilled into her.  “We would pretend to court?”  He took in the state of her with apparent distaste, lingering on her hem.  

Ginny looked down at her ruined dress robes, sighing.  They’d been so beautiful, not to mention expensive.  She flicked her wand to vanish the mud, but the rips in the acromantula silk were another matter.  

“Do you know any good mending spells?”  

With an all-suffering sigh, Malfoy brandished his wand at her and drawled, “Sericum instaurabo.”

The fine fibers instantly re-threaded and before Ginny’s eyes her robes were restored to as good as new.

“Oh,” she lightly ran her hands along the silky material and raised an eyebrow at him, “Thank you, Malfoy.”  

“Any witch of title would be familiar with that spell.  I don’t know how you’re getting away with fooling the ton, Weasley.”    He had the audacity to smirk at her.

She scoffed, “I’m not trying to fool anyone, Malfoy, just – “

“Just fool everyone into thinking we’re courting?”  

“Y-yes,” she glared, “Exactly.  I’ll finish my quidditch tryouts, you’ll escape the matchmakers for a season. It's a fair trade.”

Malfoy considered her a moment in silence.

Ginny swallowed.  He was going to refuse, of course he was.  And then he’d tell everyone that she suggested this sham just to embarrass her family.  Oh Merlin, what would Bill say when he heard?  Was Lady Whistledown delivered in France?  

This was an idiotic idea. How stupid could she be?  

Just as Ginny was about to back away and mutter 'forget it', Malfoy spoke before she could.  

“Let’s say I agree. What exactly do you have in mind?”

Ginny froze with surprise that he might actually consider agreeing. "Isn't courting fairly straightforward?"    "I need specifics, Weasley."

“Well," Ginny shrugged, "We’d likely need to be seen talking and dancing at a few events to convince people right? And you should send flowers, of course.”

“A few events and flowers…?”  Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her again, “Do you even know how titled witches and wizards court, Weasley?  Especially someone of my pedigree?”  

He took a step closer to her, indignant and offended, though about what she had no idea.  She stared up at him in surprise.  

“… no.”  She jutted her chin up at him, refusing to be condescended to. “And I don’t know what pedigree you mean.  We’re both purebloods.”  

“If I were really courting you,” Malfoy drawled deeply and shifted closer to her, “You’d be so overcome by my attentions that you wouldn’t last a week.”      

Ginny stared up at him in disbelief, turning slightly pink.  

“Or maybe I'd just send a singing cupid over to your house?  I seem to remember you having a liking for those back at school.”  

Ginny turned bright red, remembering with embarrassment the singing valentine she’d sent Harry in her first year.  

His smirk widened.  

Ginny scowled, “Forget it, Malfoy.” She turned away, marching swiftly back towards the manor and muttering insults about slimey ferrets under her breath.   

Quite suddenly her feet locked to the ground and the rest of her momentum continued forward. Her upper half swayed and she fell, her hands landed on the muddy ground to brace the rest of her.  

“Not so fast, Weasley. We weren’t done talking.”  

Bloody hell.  She was going to kill him, strangle him with her bare hands if need be!  She pushed herself upright again and twisted her shoulders around with a snarl.  

Malfoy stood behind her smirking, holding his wand aloft, looking very pleased with himself and on the verge of laughing.  

Before he could blink, however, Ginny whipped out her wand. "Expelliarmos!"  His wand tugged out of his grasp as he desperately tried to keep hold of it, but it yanked through his fingers and arched through the air in her direction.  

It didn’t come straight to her hand and when she tried to reach out for the catch, her feet still frozen to the ground, she toppled over again and landed sideways in the mud.  

Malfoy’s scowl morphed into a howl of laughter.  “Sweet Salazar, Weasley, are you sure it’s safe for you to be out in society?”  

The mud squelched around her hands and arms as she attempted to right herself again.  

“Keep laughing, Malfoy,” she snarled at him, “You won’t think it’s so funny once I’ve hexed you.  Do you also remember my preference for hexes?”

She cast the counter charm on her feet and rolled to her side, ready to cast the bat-bogey hex – only to find him quickly closing the distance between them.  She gasped as he dove at her.  

“Don’t you dare, Weasley,” he lunged, pink in the face and grabbing for her wand arm, “If you hex me, I swear to Salazar…”

She twisted away from him, tugging her arm out of his grip.  “What, afraid to fight me Malfoy?”  

He all but jumped on her wand, trying to hold her still, “Of course not.��  

With the weight of his chest pressing her to the ground, she tried casting a hex only to have him point her wand arm away, directing her spell in the opposite direction.  

They both watched as the yellow spell sparked across the garden lawn and hit a marble centaur statue.  The gleaming white rock was suddenly covered in angry green bogies, diving angrily at the eyes of the centaur, growing more frantic as they bounced away from the rock.  

Ginny snorted and leaned back against the mud, breathing heavily, gasping for air underneath Malfoy’s weight.  

At her snort, his angry gaze swung from the bogeys back to her face.  He looked royally pissed and Ginny couldn’t help the laughter that began bubbling out of her.  

“Don’t be a spoil sport Malfoy, you hexed me first.”

[feminist-space]

Tweet thread from broadwaybabyto:

"“I got Covid but it was worth it!” feels like the pinnacle of our misguided “you do you” approach to the pandemic.

It’s airborne - it’s not just about YOU. Even if you’ve decided being sick was worth it - what about the unlucky people who cross your path & get infected.

People who may not have attended an event, vacation, concert or whatever high risk activity you felt was worth the risk?

There’s many people in public for work or other unavoidable reasons. People not just having fun. You’re risking their health when you take no precautions.

If you use the DNC as example - people are proudly proclaiming that they knew the risk (though did they? Really?) and chose to attend anyways.

I would argue that you can never truly understand the risk since no one “expects” to get Long Covid or die.

But even if we go along with their rationale and assume they knew the risk & felt it was worthwhile… what about the people who were working the event? Staff at the venue, people on public transit, working in nearby hotels or at the airport? People serving them food?

Did THOSE people consent to the risk? Of course not. Many of them are working minimum wage jobs that they need to survive - not attending “fun” events and then making light of catching a serious disease.

They had NO choice or say in the matter.

Mitigations cost money. Many people can’t afford high quality respirators, air filters, nose sprays and mouthwashes (let alone expensive treatments like Paxlovid).

It’s often those who can’t afford the best protection who are exposed the most. We don’t talk about that enough.

...

It’s infuriating when you’re high risk and already disabled like me. We are TERRIFIED. We know people are out there knowingly positive and not masking. We know people are refusing to take precautions because they don’t think THEY are high risk. And we end up paying the price.

I’m not saying you can’t “live your life”… but why can’t you live your life in a more responsible manner? Demand clean air and upgraded ventilation in public spaces. Wear a mask. If you’re sick - stay home. If you attend a high risk event - mask afterwards & test regularly.

There are ways to do all the things you WANT to do without putting innocent people in harms way. Without risking the lives and health of others who are actively invested in avoiding spreading (or catching) covid. It CAN be done.

Finally - if the idea of infecting and harming someone else isn’t enough to sway you - consider this:

Most people suffering from severe Long Covid didn’t think they would become disabled either. They didn’t think they were high risk. They thought the risk was “worth it”.

We’ve been led to believe “only the vulnerable” are at risk - but the truth is everyone can get Long Covid. Many people are extra vulnerable and don’t even realize it. Repeat infections increase your odds as well.

Some of the sickest Long Covid patients I’ve met were young and healthy when they became sick. Many had mild acute infections but then decompensated over the weeks & months that followed.

The same could happen to you. The only way to avoid Long Covid is to avoid Covid.

Please reconsider saying your infection was “worth it.” Wear a mask. Care about the risk you pose to others.

If you’re struggling - reach out. There are many people here (myself included) who will happily give advice on mitigations and ways to keep yourself & others safe.

We are truly all in this together - people are just refusing to accept that fact. The sooner we acknowledge that we will succeed or fail together - the sooner real change can come."

Read the full thread here: https://x.com/broadwaybabyto/status/1827907305603559725

[snailstriad]

Connections Between Novel and Current Milgram

Alright, it's theory time. While it's not confirmed yet, after Kotoko's music video, I am certainly sure that the two novels and our current Milgram are connected. Because their motives fit so well? Maybe some of you know about our "snails theory," right? If not or if you've forgotten about it, please take a look at it too! [in our twitter under the same name] (I must say that some parts of the theory (e.g the voices part) are wrong, but it is a theory after all.) To summarize, we think Haruka, Muu, Shidou, Amane, and Mikoto's beliefs and mindsets come from the first novel, and Yuno, Fuuta, Mahiru, Kazui, and Kotoko's mindsets and their thoughts resemble the second novel. First of all, please do not forget that we are not connecting crimes. Maybe you can see similarities but I, too, believe crimes and storyline different(not completely because of Touchi) from our current trials. This theory is only about mindsets. Well, let's start with 1st novel characters.

Our first prisoner, Gentle. He is a very emotional man to me. And killing a man, who is about to kill a woman. Of course this is pure coincidence but the thought of killing one life to save the others is bugging me. Because of this, I feel like there is a parallel between Gentle and Shidou.

Nervous. Her anxiety of being useless and a failure is similar to Muu actually. Another point that these two have in common is wanting to be appreciated. This desire for acknowledgment adds a psychological layer, suggesting how much external validation influences their thoughts and actions.

Considering that Close and Gentle are siblings, you might think I've lost my mind for what I'm about to say next, but yes, I believe Close and Amane have similar thought patterns. Let's look at the events this way: Close is someone who would do anything and everything to get the person she loves. However, after all the events, she no longer fears suffering. In fact, she wanted to experience pain and didn't seek help. This reminds me a lot of Amane. Maybe in the future, I'll prepare a separate theory for Amane, but I always felt that in that famous electric shock scene, Amane was afraid of pain, so it seemed like she was trying to comply with the rules. However, after her father's death, and of course, when she came to Milgram, she tried not to fear pain and even attempted to surpass the help she received.

The next prisoner, in my opinion, is probably the easiest to connect among all the characters: Two-Face. Initially, I had wondered besides the name, what similarities there could be with Mikoto, but then I realized I had overlooked the most important thing. Both of them were unaware of the consequences of their actions. As you know, Mikoto was completely oblivious to everything. On the other hand, Two-Face genuinely didn't know that what he was attempting could lead to an actual murder.

Our last character from the first novel is Torch. Firstly, when we saw less of Torch's story and mindset compared to the second novel, I couldn't liken him to anyone. However, later, with the release of the second novel, I understood that the reason Torch's (or Touchi's) life was saved was Milgram. Through Milgram, he found the love he had been seeking for a long time, thanks to Sumi. When I look at this child who has no one in his life, I see Haruka. Both are individuals without anyone and in need of love. Additionally, Milgram, who saved Touchi, also saved the first trial Haruka. The lack of self-confidence he had when he first arrived was overcome thanks to Milgram.

Our first prisoner in the second novel: Tatsumi. I might exceed my thread limit before finishing listing the commonalities with Fuuta. First, let's talk about how both perceive their crimes as a symbol of justice. For those who haven't read it, I'll give a brief overview of the common theme in the second novel: all the characters' crimes are based on a kind of murder trend called "justifiable righteous murder." When Touchi asks him what justice means, Tatsumi responds, "Justice is a social media hashtag." Most likely, you've already understood where I'm going with this: both share similar thoughts about the concept of justice. Another shared aspect is that both constantly question the concept of justice they possess.

Rina and Mei, since they share the same trial, I'll continue without separating them. In my previous theory, I talked about how Yuno and Mahiru are opposites of each other, yet still closely connected. The same holds true for Rina and Mei; they are almost opposites, but their attitudes towards all these events are still the same. It's similar to Yuno and Mahiru; Yuno has a very cold personality while Mahiru is the opposite. However, when it comes to Milgram and its rules, both pairs' thoughts align remarkably.

Alright, this was the person I found the most challenging to connect among all the prisoners: Tomonari. Because, honestly, when I first looked at him, nothing came to mind except the word "psychopath." However, if you look at Tomonari's actions, despite all the darkness within, he never tried to kill anyone until the very end, somewhat keeping his "true personality" hidden. You might get upset with me, I know, but I associate him with Kazui. As I mentioned, this theory is not about the crimes they committed. Kazui, too, chose to lie and conceal his true self until the very end of his life. In my view, they are similar because of these choices they made.

Finally, the last prisoner, Mako. First, I can't go without mentioning that, in Kotoko's MV, I saw Kotoko closely following the "Justifiable Righteous Murder" trend created by Mako (even looking at the news of Tatsumi's murder). Both of the characters are individuals willing to kill for the goals they have set in their minds. Additionally, both characters closely follow the workings of Milgram and manipulate it in line with their own interests.

[bengiyo]

We Are Better Together: Why I Enjoyed the Our Skyy 2 Crossover

I enjoyed this four-part special with every part of my being, but I’m a gay man in his thirties that often feels like I understand exactly where Aof is coming from in his work. As I’ve said many times on this block and in @the-conversation-pod, I desperately want more stories about gays sticking together alongside all of the stories about discovering love. For so many reasons, I love that Aof chose to use Pat and Pran as a catalyst to help Tian and Phupha, and in turn compare their relationship with another couple experiencing some of the same challenges lets them see themselves properly. I have a lot to say, so let’s just get into it.

Funding A Tale of Thousand Stars

There is no way Aof was going to be able to produce a Tale of Thousand Stars special without merging the Bad Buddy budget. If you start from the fundamental problem that it’s expensive to film on a mountain, we need to find a problem that works well. At the end of ATOTS, Tian and Phupha agree to stay in Pha Pun Dao together, but there’s no way that can work forever. Tian has medical needs and a family in Bangkok. We also never resolved the lingering doubts and uncertainty that plagued Phupha in the story, since we focused on Tian’s journey.

With Pat and Pran, they were set on their commitment to each other after episode 11. They are just hiding themselves in college, and won’t experience any changes without some form of outside stimulus. Likewise, Tian and Phupha live in a bubble. I love the idea of shoving these four men together and seeing what comes out of it.

Playing with Archetypes and Expectations

I particularly like Aof shoving these four characters together because it allows Aof to further poke at our expectation and assumptions about BL characters. Aof is aware of the cultural understanding around seme and uke archetypes, and the decision to style Pran to physically resemble Tian is not subtle. However, as we move through the special, we realize that Pran has more in common with Phupha than he does Tian. What a gift that is from, Aof.

Aof invites the viewers through Pran to consider where they sit as viewers in these stories. We are often asked to ride along with our primary viewpoint character and see the world through their lens. Sure, we can challenge their lens, and ask the audience to grow along with the character, but I truly love the way this story hands the lens over to Phupha as we move through this special. As a gay man in his thirties, I am particularly fond of Phupha and the decision to focus on him.

It is hard growing up the way some of us did. We don’t have BL experiences like the ones we fawn over in these shows. Life was hard. We suffered. Some of us are stuck performing a version of masculinity that we haven’t ever been able to unlearn. I continue to present normie because it’s what I was trained to do. I make use of it as the face of my local queer circle. I talk to the government when we need someone who won’t get ignored right away, just like Phupha dedicates himself to the people of his village.

We might expect Pat and Phupha to mirror each other because of their physicality, but that breaks almost instantly. They’re unlike each other. The first allusion to this comes in the reminder that Tian is an engineer, and so is Pat. Additionally, Phupha rejects Tian’s diary immediately because he only gives it a surface reading. It’s only once he gets to know Pran and Pat a bit, and really listens to what Tian is saying that he starts to wake up.

I personally loved seeing these characters get lost in the woods and spin around each other for an entire episode. The best thing you can do when you’re lose in the woods is stay where you are and wait for rescue to find you. Tian can’t do that, and honestly neither can Pat. The common thread between them is how antsy and foolish they can be. Tian went all the way up a mountain with a weak heart the way only a fool could. Pat rushed after Pran to the wilderness with barely a plan because all that matters is getting to Pran.

Like many of the baby gays we sometimes help with volunteering, I wish they would just sit still and let us find them. They’re in such a hurry to grow up and do all the big gay milestones that they’ve envisioned for themselves, but it just doesn’t work like that. Sometimes you have to just finish school and become financially independent. Sometimes you need to let your partner get the help they need and the right diagnosis to manage their neurotic behaviors. Sometimes you need to just having someone beg you to just sniff your boyfriend and get over yourself. Sometimes you need someone who actually understands the weight of internalized homophobia you carry validate that it’s hard. Sometimes you just need to accept that you are now a “we” and admit openly that you can’t live without each other.

You Blame the Rebel That You Sold Out

I’ve been thinking a lot about the instinct I’ve noticed to pick apart the creative team when people find they aren’t enjoying a show for some reason. I wrote about this first during The Eclipse, and I’m feeling it again here. As I said there, I’ll say here: It’s okay to say you didn’t like something and didn’t find this to be your taste.

I’m a lifelong Star Trek fan who can’t watch Lower Decks because I find American animation to rely on a loud quality that I find overstimulating. I also don’t appreciate Seth McFarlane’s brand of humor. I didn’t get into Star Trek: Prodigy because it’s aimed at kids in a way that I found a bit boring to engage with. I think Star Trek Picard is overall pretty bad and a waste of nostalgia. I still love Star Trek, and find things worth engaging with every time I sit down and watch new things.

I recently attended a Matchbox Twenty concert and have been thinking about the song “Rebels” from their new album Where the Light Goes. There’s a portion of the lyrics that I think best covers how I feel about this instinct to turn on the creators when they do something you don’t like with characters they created.

And it's all exciting You were so alive Like a wheel in motion You were terrified you'll lose it Hell, everybody loses It was never how you wanted Now it's never good enough We're all rebels when we're young I think it's time you let it go now When you get angry with yourself You blame the rebel that you sold out You blame the rebel that you sold out That you sold out Let go and be yourself right now Let go and be yourself right now Let go and be yourself right now Let go and be yourself right now

It’s all fun and games when experiences are new to us. We’re excited to be in this new untested space for the first time, but we are all changed by it. We bring different lenses and experiences to the table. We take different things from the stories, and our tastes change because of these experiences. Then the creator comes back with a new season or new outing with these characters and they have different things they want to focus on this time. It’s not what we wanted, and so we turn on them. The only way out of that is to let go and see who you are now.

Aof is a gay man who is working at a major company to tell meaningful queer stories. Aof clearly knows that life is the future, not the past. He’s committed to bridging us to a better world for queer people so that we can see each other more.

We Are Better Together

I love that Pat and Pran met Tian and Phupha. I love that these characters made each other better in the brief week they spent together. I like that they became friends and expanded their queer circle. Your relationship is not the only component you need for stability in your life. You can get stuck in a rut. You need other people to talk to you. You need outlets for your frustration. You need friends to remind you that you’re being obnoxious, and maybe you should just have sex and see if the issue is still there.

Tian and Phupha were not at their best alone. Pat and Pran were not at their best alone. I love the idea of a lonely Pran looking for queer connection on the web and discovering Tian’s diary. I love the romantic notions he projected onto Tian and seeing them shattered by the intense physical reality of life in Pha Phun Dao, and his interactions with Phupha.

About ten years ago, we had a member of our circle who tried to view our group through the lens of Noah’s Arc, and he struggled with fact that we didn’t fit exactly. What a joy it is to realize that your own queerness is distinct in this world, and that you and your friends are special. Bad Buddy and A Tale of Thousand Stars are BETTER for me now that they’ve touched each other.

I love that Phupha finally let Tian love him the way Tian wants to. I love that he let go of his concern about Tian’s wealth. I like that he let Tian’s parents see him properly and extend to love to him that he’s given their son. I like that he finally let’s them thank him for helping their son find stability and purpose, because Phupha maybe doesn’t appreciate how much of a fuck up Tian was being before the transplant. I love that Phupha found it in himself to propose to Tian. I love that Phupha let Tian take charge in the bedroom. I love that Phupha gave Pat and Pran the gift of sharing their love on a stage to adoring fans, and giving Wai a chance at redemption. Pran got to see people finally cheering for their love online.

I can’t claim to understand everyone’s frustrations with this special, and I won’t pretend to. However, I wanted to say quite plainly that as a gay viewer who has appreciated Aof’s work for years, I was particularly touched by this crossover. I don’t care about the balance other seem concerned about between Pat and Pran. I don’t care about how much they did or didn’t talk. All I know is that since episode 5 of Bad Buddy, Pat has shown that he’s all in on Pran and has never waivered. I like that so much of this special was about Pran finally accepting the way Pat loves him, just like Phupha learned to accept the way Tian loves him.

It really is as simple as the final sequence for Pat and Pran for me. It’s Pat asking if they can finally kiss and Pat and Pran again and finally getting that, Pa interruptions and everything.

So, I hope everyone finds peace with reactions to this special. I am completely satisfied, and excited to see what Aof wants to say next in Last Twilight, despite my reservations about Jimmy.

[peekablue]

DONATIONS URGENTLY NEEDED FOR OLA’S FAMILY IN GAZA

Here is her story:

Hello, I'm Ola, a graduate student from the faculty of science - Al-Azhar University in Gaza Palestine. I truly appreciate you taking a moment to read my story. As you reading my message, myself and my family, “my mother, father, three sisters, and my little brother,” are fighting death in northern Gaza and trying to survive under all kinds of suffering including but not limited to destruction, fear, and instability, starvation, thirst, and poverty.

For eight months until now, we have been struggling to get proper food after prices increased by 15 to 20 times, struggling to have clean water for use and drinking. We lacked security and stability as we were forced to evacuate our house and left everything behind. Then we had to move at least three times since every new area we seek refuge to gets bombed.

Before October 7th, my days were filled with attending lectures, working, and volunteering. I completed my bachelor's degree in Mathematics with a GPA 96.01% with a grade of distinction with first class honors.

Once I completed my graduate studies, I began looking for a job to cover the study expenses. I got my first contract as a mathematics teacher on August 30, 2023, at a school here in Gaza. I was very excited, happy and full of passion for this new chapter in my life as a student and teacher at the same time. It was one month like a beautiful dream in which I began my work as a teacher to my students in the seventh grade. I was explaining mathematics using extracurricular activities.

However since October 7th, my life turned upside down, darkness prevailed, all hopes and dreams quickly vanished. Our once peaceful neighborhood has been devastated by relentless bombings, leaving my home, university, and my workplace destroyed.

Although, there is nothing here but rubble and ash color and a dark and gloomy future looms ahead, my family and I fight every day holding onto a thin thread of hope that tomorrow might be better. This is why I decided to start this campaign and seek your help and support to create hope for me and my family.

Your generous support and donation will help provide the basic needs needed for me and my family under these difficult circumstances. It will also give us hope that there is a better future waiting for us once the war stops Insha’Allah. It will also help me complete my higher education programs and become a better teacher and researcher insha'Allah.

I extend heartfelt gratitude to the caring donors who aid my journey. Your belief in the transformative power of education is a beacon of inspiration, and your kindness is a gift that propels me forward.

If you can donate, the link to her GFM is here:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/empower-olas-pursuit-of-education-amid-crisis

If you cannot donate, please spread this post and consider making one of your own.

[saturnaftertaste]

who wins the psychological problems olympics, betty or cheryl?

oooh tough one! cousin v. cousin battle

to me it really depends on what you consider as their psychological problems. are we talking about how much they suffered and what psychological problems they hypothetically would end up with? or are we talking about the way the given traumas present themselves through the characters in the show?

interestingly enough despite the show running from the late 2010s to the early 2020s, we don’t get an actual mention of any dsm-certified mental illness until archie starts seeing dead soldiers post-The War and gets diagnosed with ptsd. (i don’t even remember if that was said outright but i do remember in s6 they use armchair psych terms in reference to archie’s sexual abuse from s1).

anyway a case could be made for either; our introduction to betty is of her being reminded by her mother to Take Her Pills without any later reference to what those pills might be or why she was taking them; i think it was a 50s-housewife-valium habit she was trying to pre-install in betty just to make sure she didn’t end up like polly. that being said, however, i do think that betty has, AT LEAST, some garden-variety anxiety disorder/some other mild form of clinically diagnosable mental illness - what with the pills and physical manifestation of unconscious self-harm. on the trauma end, factor in hal’s grooming of her to carry on their serial-killer legacy and the memories she repressed of her childhood, plus the fact that she was a victim of every major riverdale event (black hood, gng + THE FARM, stonewall prep death fakeout, polly’s disappearance, TBK, percival and rivervale) not to mention alice’s ways and behaviors that she was subject to. still, nothing about betty changes. the black hood and then TBK become representative of her “darkness” and what she could do if she “gave in”, but that’s always been like betty’s narrative thread, that if she ever Let Herself Go you would see Terrible Things Happen. so really, post-all this trauma, what’s really changed about betty? the answer is nothing! despite having endured ALL of this, betty remains the girl-next-door, albeit with a different job (but still an extension of her childhood interests!) whatever you want to call it - shoddy CW character work, jughead’s fucked up narrative keeping her in the girl-next-door role, or even meta commentary and the implication of Cycles in this Town, betty doesn’t change. she still wants to investigate, she still wants to date archie, she’s still the only “sane” one left. she has all this trauma, all these things that happen to her, and yet they exist outside of Betty as a being.

cheryl on the other hand has her traumas stacking like jenga. obviously her family was very much steeped in gothic horror from the jump, because even though riverdale is set in 2017, they did not bother modernizing the kind of strange context provided for the blossoms, and mind you, this is before the ghosts and the transgender twin-dolls and witches were all apparent. like from the very start there is this weird anachronism of the blossoms, who are like holding onto wealth from early colonial times and have like a house built like a crypt but also a teenage daughter who is the head cheerleader at the local public highschool (speaking of, why did cheryl and jason not attend stonewall prep?). not to say that maple syrup barons (?) don’t exist in today’s day and age, moreso that cheryl and her family contain weird multitudes. like what i’m trying to say is that cheryl’s original characterization as the mean rich girl struck by tragedy is the combination of two tropes at once - both regina george and jane eyre at once, but they exist like, separately from each other. unlike betty, however, over time the two become intertwined - cheryl hosts highschool parties at her gothic mansion. she crushes on a girl and sends her a pig’s heart . and as for the things she’s suffered. well. the weird insular nature of the blossom family makes it that her best friend and only confidante is her twin, who dies a violent death at the hands of her father, who then commits suicide, leaving her with her mother who hates her. this, then followed by the discovery of her own repressed homosexuality, plus her mother’s rejection of it, attempted murder of her and her subsequent conversion therapy at the soqm — the stakes for cheryl just keep stacking. this is also only around season 2 - we aren’t even talking about her extended family that come to visit, her stint with THE FARM, jason’s taxidermied body in the living room, the insanity that is nana rose. abigail blossom, julian blossom, the Haunting of Thistlehouse…

cheryl literally attempts suicide at the end of season one. like actively, you know what i mean? I think the key difference between cheryl and betty is that despite them literally having the same hereditary emotional abuse issues in their respective families (family?), betty is given a “normal” to return to. if her house is insane at any given moment, she can run to one of the other core four, and they help each other cope through other various insane behaviors (ie. investigating murders and leaving to cabins in the woods and whatever) and you know what they say! a problem shared among a sexually-charged almost-polycule is a burden halved! even that time penelope and hal trapped them in the woods, they had each other to go through the trials with. veronica drank poison for her. “as friends”!

on the flip side, every day of cheryl’s life is quite almost like that time the corefour polycule was trapped in the woods in that penelope tormented cheryl for the entire time they lived together. no friends, no one who knows her reality EXCEPT jason, who gets murdered by their father. cheryl never really had a normal or even an IDEA of normal to return to, because once she lost jason, realistically she had nothing left to live for. of COURSE people thought she was fucking her brother, the toxic codependency is intrinsic to cheryl’s personality and up until jason dies, i doubt she was known as anything but the girl obsessed with her brother. jason is replaced by ronnie is replaced by archie is replaced by josie is finally replaced by toni, who then is subject to all of cheryl’s insanity. cheryl, who doesn’t actually recognize that keeping her dead brother’s body taxidermied in a wheel chair is not “normal” behaviour, because she has no idea what normal is thanks to her parents’ wealth shielding them from both CPS and her peers, meaning she doesn’t have a baseline for “normal”. if alice cooper did one thing right as a mother, it’s that she was so bent on suburban normalcy for her family that it helped betty realise she was facing emotional abuse and that she needed to get out/confront alice, which is what she does several times. the blossoms’ wealth made it easier for them to isolate cheryl entirely meaning that she, now, is learning how to function thanks to toni and occasionally betty and veronica. betty can re-set every time something bad happens. cheryl just keeps stacking her stuff.

tldr: cheryl wins. by a long shot. the girl was born to be mentally ill, unfortunately. suits her though!

[windsfavored]

@roleplay-abiogenesis2 &&. said... "are we actually doing the right thing?" - Cyno, main verse (can relate to our old main verse thread, or be something entirely new!)

he's  standing  at  the  entrance  of  the  ruins,  arms  crossed  and  back  to  his  companion.  a  reckless  move,  considering  the  way  calling  the  circumstances  between  them  TENSE  feels  like  an  understatement  so  severe  it  borders  on  laughable  —  but  of  course,  ren  doubts  he  has  anything  to  fear.  the  general  mahamatra  has  witnessed  firsthand  just  how  unnervingly  DURABLE  he  truly  is;  even  if  cyno  wished  to  attack  him  from  behind,  the  only  thing  he  would  truly  accomplish  is  exhausting  himself.  physical  pain  hardly  registers  to  the  wanderer  these  days;  it's  just  another  form  of  stimuli,  mundane  as  all  the  rest.  there  was  a  time  when  he  once  saw  it  as  something  to  avoid  —  though  that  fear  inevitably  decayed  alongside  his  wide-eyed  innocence  and  enthusiasm  for  the  world  he  found  himself  tossed  so  haphazardly  into.  the  doctor's  experiments  served  as  a  sword  to  the  throat  of  his  naiveté;  lopping  head  from  shoulders  —  an  EXECUTION  carried  out  with  clinical  efficiency.

outside,  the  storm  still  rages.  wind  and  sand,  a  howling  blur  of  pale  orange  —  impossible  to  traverse,  impossible  to  see  through.  he  was  really  hoping  by  the  time  they  found  the  exit,  the  weather  would  have  improved,  but  it  seems  yet  again  MISFORTUNE  has  decided  to  make  the  wanderer  its  plaything.

❝  ... ❞  he's  a  bit  SURPRISED  when  cyno  suddenly  speaks.  ren  had  been  expecting  the  general  mahamatra  to  wait  out  the  storm  glaring  contemptuously  at  the  back  of  his  head  all  the  while.  truly,  he's  still  struggling  to  wrap  his  mind  around  the  source  of  their  CONFLICT.  his  identity,  his  inhumanity  —  they  are  disconcerting  things  to  be  sure.  it's  a  fact  the  wanderer  is  aware  of  better  than  anyone;  the  truth  always  leads  to  suffering,  almost  as  if  it's  akin  to  a  CURSE  that  he  must  bear  in  silence.  still,  he's  always  known  cyno  to  be  a  fairly  level-headed  individual  —  at  least  when  it  comes  to  matters  of  personal  values.  (  he's  even  offered  ren  advice  in  the  past.  )  it  is  for  precisely  that  reason  why  the  wanderer  can't  UNDERSTAND  why  he's  suddenly  taken  to  acting  so  erratically.   ❝  who  knows. ❞  he  says  aloud,  voice  gone  toneless  from  mental  fatigue.  ❝  i  thought  JUDGEMENT  was  supposed  to  be  your  thing. ❞

he  has  half  a  mind  to  simply  leave  it  at  that,  but  if  he  continues  glaring  at  the  storm  outside  he  fears  that  he  may  very  well  go  mad.  ❝  right  or  wrong ...  i  never  asked  to  be  made.  if  that  act  of  creation  is  considered  a  sin,  you  can  take  it  up  with  my  mother. ❞  the  word  comes  drenched  in  a  thick  layer  of  sarcasm  —  as  if  ren  is  only  able  to  painlessly  refer  to  her  as  such  if  he  does  so  IRONICALLY.  ❝  my  existence  is  ETERNAL ...  you've  seen  for  yourself  just  how  futile  trying  to  extinguish  it  can  be.  the  only  right  or  wrongs  i  can  PERSONALLY  claim  ownership  over  are  what  i  choose  to  do  with  it. ❞

...  and  in  that  regard,  the  wanderer  has  no  shortage  of  both.