#feel like that goes without saying but saying just in case

[muqingslover]

Hi! If you're open to requests, what would you think the lads men (or just one guy of your choice!!) would do in the following scenario?

They are out with mc when they run into mc's ex, and mc's ex says, "Damn, your taste in men changed a lot" in like a condescending manner. (Or something along those lines)

I hope you have a great time!! I love reading your stories!!

[ Thank you for the request! <3 I did a little of everyone so enjoy! ]

Sylus

"Your tastes sure have changed since the last time I saw you." is the first thing that actually catches his attention during the otherwise boring conversation.

Sylus is not an overly jealous person simply because he is very secure of his love for you and how good he is to you. The only thing your ex does is greatly amuse him because the difference is too great to even be considered fair.

"Naturally. You surely don't expect someone to eat trash forever, do you?" He would answer for you in a smooth voice while he towers over the both of you with that confident expression of his on his face.

He feels almost sorry for you, who had to make do with such men, but, not to worry, he's here now and he's not going anywhere.

Xavier

Taunting his jealous side is the same as playing with fire while knowing you're going to get burn.

"Is that the type of guy you prefer?" He'd ask the second the two of you are alone again. His hands pin you to the closest surface so you're unable to run from the conversation and he keeps his face very close to yours to watch for even the smallest reactions "Do you like him more than me?"

My advice? Say no as quickly as possible and give him a kiss to shush him otherwise you're in for the long, loooooong haul. Xavier is not easily soothed once he's worked up and he WILL hold grudges.

The next time your ex shows up he is quick to cut the conversation before they can even get a good morning in and makes it clear you belong to him now.

Rafayel

"What did you just say?" His head never whipped back faster mans almost twisted his own neck.

Arguably the most aggressive per se because he's SO obvious. To him it's just staggering you ever went out with anyone else, especially a thing like that, and that it's here, again, approaching you. Does it not see him? He's right there for god's sake!

"She's on duty so she can't talk to you right now. Or ever." He'd grab you by the shoulder as he sized the guy up and down with the most condescending and judgmental look on his face before scoffing. what a diva

He'll nag at you later for being "distracted while on the job" and say you're supposed to pay attention to him at all times otherwise how will his dear bodyguard protect him? Please be more mindful!

Caleb

It was a school reunion party when your old high school sweetheart came up to the both of you.

"Oh hey, I remember you! Weren't you the guy who got kicked out for cheating on his graduation exam?" He says with an innocent grin on his face knowing full well the guy is a deadbeat and making sure others heard it too.

It's canon he kept track of all crushes MC had while growing up and I'm sure he goes out of his way to show you their bad points so you won't even consider looking their way.

In some cases, Caleb had to get rid of them by manipulating things behind the scenes if they didn't take the hint and this one was one of those cases.

The guy was struggling with his grades and who is he to deny a helping hand? All he did was slip the sheet of answers to the test without anyone knowing, it's not his fault if the idiot accepted it knowing it was against the rules. Such an angel, isn't he.

This interaction will lead to him being even more territorial around you and he wants you to just stay home with him where it's safe. Pretty please?

Zayne

He will step in if they are bothering you by pretending he needs your immediate help in the office but otherwise Zayne merely listening in the background.

Once they're gone the silence is so loud.

You can basically feel that he's bothered by something, but he won't open his mouth even if you ask him about it because it's 'petty and childish'.

"Are you happy with me?" He'd eventually ask you after stewing in his own thoughts for the day. What if your tastes hadn't changed and you were just too nice to tell him he's not doing enough? That he is not enough.

Please reassure this sweet man that you're happy in the relationship. Especially so if your ex is the type that is super extroverted and easy to get along with since that's one of the points he struggles with the most.

The problem goes away on its own after some good quality time together and affectionate words.

[lunammoon]

What type of plant would Harding gift your Rook? Probably something that they can put in food. Like Basil or Rosemary. Just not mint because they already have Too Much in a way that anyone who has planted mint will understand. Harding still tries to give them mint. Again, for reasons anyone who has grown mint can understand.

Do they like Harding's cooking? Harding's Yam and Jam slams are not that bad, but Harding gets bonus points for the thoughtfulness of the gesture more than anything. During the first couple of months where Ezra is legitimately trying to figure out how to separate Lucanis and Spite after the first attempt, but before the second and last attempt (because if anyone could do it without hurting either of them they're sure that they could) in trying to express how fucked up what Zara did to them was on a purely metaphysical level says calls the Ossuary experiments "Facinating in the same way that what Harding does to potatoes is fascinating. "

What animal/monster would Davrin carve for your Rook? I'm torn between some kind of cat, and some kind of dog. If it's a dog, then it's specifically a grim.

Does your Rook like the walks in Arlathan with Davrin? Ezra loves the fresh air and the sunshine and the way Arlathan feels alive. They also enjoy spending time with Davrin and Assan. Sometimes they'll invite him out instead of waiting for him to invite them.

What is something Neve could call on your Rook for if she needs certain expertise for a case? Things related to spirits but unrelated to the deceased. Particularly blood magic, which is used to bind spirits to objects. In like, an au where Ezra is Ezra and not Rook, and Neve was hired by Caterina to locate her grandson (maybe in a timeline where the Inquisitor and Varric successfully talk Solas down long before the 9:51) and she had picked up enough info to know what was happening down there, she would have asked Ezra to assist.

Does your Rook share Neve's love of fried fish? No. While fish is the only meat they eat and they basically only eat if if they're out in the wilderness and it's the easiest food to access. They tried it once since they'd already been given to them by Neve and didn't particularly like them.

Does your Rook join Bellara in her technical talks about the Fade and various artifacts or are they more content to listen? They might join in if it intersects with something that they know about. Or if they're helping Bellara work out an issue. Otherwise, they just sit and listen. They like to listen to Bellara work through a problem.

Do your Rook and Bellara read serials together? Yes. Ezra goes out of their way to find good ones for them to read with, as many containing happy endings as they can.

What is your Rook's favorite dish that Lucanis cooks? I don't know what the exact dish is, but it's either some kind of stew or some kind of pastry stuffed with vegetables.

What would Lucanis buy for your Rook at the Grande Market? An empty notebook small enough to fit in their coat pockets. They end up filling it entirely with information pertaining to helping him and Spite. It's a coincidence that it's the notebook Lucanis gave them mind you. They just need a separate notebook for it since the plan is that when they're done they give the notebook to Lucanis to either keep or burn instead of submitting the contents to the Mourn Watch as part of their research like they normally do.They don't want Lucanis to feel like a thesis project.

What dragon would Taash think your Rook would like the best? The Vinsomer. They are correct.

Do they bring your Rook 'round the Hall of Valor to drink often? Yes absolutely. Ezra doesn't drink much, but Spirits like them and so they'll sit and talk with them for a while.

Would your Rook like Emmrich's mother's hazelnut torte? They adore it.

What kind of tea would Emmrich make for your Rook? If Ezra is making themself tea, it's always mint. But I feel in my heart that if Emmrich is making it, then the answer is a strong black tea. Something so strong that they can taste it and nothing else.

Bonus: What is one thing a companion does to cheer up your Rook if they're feeling down? Davrin - When Ezra is reaching a point where it seems like they're going to lose it, Davrin will come up with some excuse why the three of them (Davrin, Rook, Assan) need to go to Arlathan forest so that they can Touch Grass.

Small Rook & Companion Questions:

What type of plant would Harding gift your Rook?

Do they like Harding's cooking?

What animal/monster would Davrin carve for your Rook?

Does your Rook like the walks in Arlathan with Davrin?

What is something Neve could call on your Rook for if she needs certain expertise for a case?

Does your Rook share Neve's love of fried fish?

Does your Rook join Bellara in her technical talks about the Fade and various artifacts or are they more content to listen?

Do your Rook and Bellara read serials together?

What is your Rook's favorite dish that Lucanis cooks?

What would Lucanis buy for your Rook at the Grande Market?

What dragon would Taash think your Rook would like the best?

Do they bring your Rook 'round the Hall of Valor to drink often?

Would your Rook like Emmrich's mother's hazelnut torte?

What kind of tea would Emmrich make for your Rook?

Bonus: What is one thing a companion does to cheer up your Rook if they're feeling down?

[sevsgiirl]

— sevika reassuring her anxious partner (soft and angsty headcannons)

synopsis: when you get into an argument with sevika, your anxiety gets the best of you. luckily, she knows how to get rid of your doubts.

note: this is my first time posting my hcs of sevika because I usually post long fics, but after seeing so many tiktoks of people mischaracterizing sevika recently saying she’d be the type to cheat after an argument (she would never) I just had to write this because I am not letting anybody smear my wife’s good name.

𖥔 sevika isn’t necessarily argumentative, but she is very stubborn. she doesn’t like picking fights with you, if she could avoid them as much as possible she would.

𖥔 however, she always feels the need to have the last word, and that riles you up.

𖥔 she never raises her voice at you and make it seem like she’s pissed, but her frustrations seep through.

𖥔 and she knows if the situation further escalates she’ll say something she’ll regret, so she’ll force herself to take a step back, look at you and say “we’re not doing this. I’m not in the right head space right now and clearly you aren’t too.”

𖥔 usually she’d want to fix the issue right away because she doesn’t like prolonging a problem when she knows simple communication could fix it.

𖥔 but when she knows it’ll take the whole day for the problem to be resolved, she’ll create some distance between you two so she can have a clearer mind before bringing up the issue again, and without any bias.

𖥔 however, when she tells you that she needs some time away from you for a bit, your anxiety levels skyrocket. you start scrambling for a way to make her stay and fix the situation but she just sees it as you wanting to argue again, so she shakes her head and goes for the door.

𖥔 “not now. I’m not angry but just give me some time.” she tells you before walking out the door and leaving you in your apartment alone, already feeling bad that the argument went too far.

𖥔 as a way to compose herself she’ll head over to the last drop to have a drink and play some cards, and people at the table would notice her brooding demeanor and ask if there’s trouble in paradise.

𖥔 she won’t answer, she doesn’t like taking advice from people especially when it comes to her relationship. she doesn’t like airing out her business, but people will chime in either way.

𖥔 telling her that as long as the love is still there, there’s nothing that either of you can’t overcome together. again, she stays silent but keeps it in mind.

𖥔 meanwhile, you’re back at home. it’s been a few hours and sevika still hasn’t returned and it’s getting really late.

𖥔 you start assuming the worst case scenarios. pacing back and forth as you wonder if she’s gotten tired of you already, and it doesn’t help when her past at the gardens come to mind.

𖥔 so your mind pivots to that, as bad as it sounds, your chest suddenly feeling heavy as the ugliest scenarios of her confiding in another woman’s arms plague your mind and you immediately feel tears forming in your eyes.

𖥔 you know she would never, but you always feared the worst. you’ve opened up to sevika about your trust issues and she always listened intently. her loyalty and devotion are her most notable traits, and you’d never doubt her. but still, during your darkest moments you can’t help but let those ugly thoughts win.

𖥔 as you imagine her seeking escapism in another woman’s body, you thought maybe if you had just shut up she wouldn’t go out doing god knows what so she wouldn’t be trapped in the same space as you.

𖥔 meanwhile, sevika is trying her best to walk in a straight line as she heads back home from the bar, mentally cursing herself for drinking too much because now, how else is she going to have a conversation about your argument earlier if she could barely form a coherent thought?

𖥔 it’s almost midnight by the time you hear sevika’s spare keys unlocking your door as she stumbles in, groaning as you step inside the living room and watch her walk in.

𖥔 “where were you?” you ask, your voice shaking but sevika didn’t pick up on your anxious state just yet.

𖥔 so she raises a hand to signal for you to give her a moment, but you being paranoid, take it a sign of her being annoyed with you.

𖥔 “I’ve had too much to drink, just give-“

𖥔 she stops dead in her tracks when she hears you sniffling, and it’s like all the liquor in her system got evaporated as she looks up and notices your watery eyes, fidgeting with your fingers and she immediately takes a step forward.

𖥔 “hey, what’s wrong-“

𖥔 “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to blow things out of proportion and I understand if you’re fed up with my shit, but sev, j-just…”

𖥔 her eyebrows furrow as you look down at your feet “hey, remember what I said earlier? I’m not mad. I just needed some space to clear my head.”

𖥔 your glossy eyes pierce through her grey ones as you gulp “I-I thought you got tired of me a-and…”

𖥔 she looks at you and encourages you to finish, but as you think about it you can’t help but feel embarrassed “it’s stupid.”

𖥔 “sweetheart, just tell me-“

𖥔 “I thought you went to the gardens.”

𖥔 all thought process quickly stopped working as she stares at you, dumbfounded. feeling her heart twist at the thought of you losing faith in her that you’d assume she’d go and sleep with another woman just because she was angry at you.

𖥔 she wasn’t even angry at you. she could never be angry. she was frustrated with the situation but she’d never have it in her to be mad at you and blame you for anything.

𖥔 she takes a step closer and extends her hand to palm your cheek, calloused but warm.

𖥔 “sweetheart, you know I’d never do that. ever.” she put both of her hands on your face and fixed you with a hard gaze “no matter whatever bullshit we go through, don’t ever think I’d stoop as low as betraying you like that. I wouldn’t even imagine doing that to you.”

𖥔 she swallows the lump in her throat. she wasn’t the type to get emotional but seeing your big doe eyes look at her, all pitiful and devastated, made her heart break. so with a sigh she pulls you against her chest and tightens her arms around you, running her fingers down your hair as she rest her chin on top of your head.

𖥔 “I love you. so fucking much. you could put me in a room with a thousand women and I’d still crawl my way out of there to get to you. nothing else matters. just you. you know that, right?”

𖥔 you sniff, nodding as you let out a shaky breath “I know and I’m sorry. I just got a b-bit paranoid.”

𖥔 she shook her head “it’s okay, it’s not your fault. I’m not going to be upset when I should’ve stayed here with you and worked things out. I’m sorry for making you go through that, baby.”

𖥔 after a few minutes you finally look up at her and gave her a wobbly smile.

𖥔 “it’s okay,” you nuzzled against her touch and sighed “I love you, sev.”

𖥔 she smiles, thumb caressing your cheek “I love you more.”

[starchbean]

Shizun’s Smallest Disciple

Shen Qingqiu, on the edge of the abyss at the IAC, BEGGS the system for another way

System asks… “You’d do anything?” SQQ: “ANYTHING!” 

System puts a quest marker on a blossom that has gone to seed - a Scorching Demonic Parasite Dandelion. SY knows through his reading that if a demon blows on this blossom and someone swallows even just one seed, the demon will start growing from the seed in a tiny pocket in their abdomen until they are reborn chestburster style having taken on some of the traits and strength of the host.

SQQ instructs Binghe to blow, Binghe not knowing what is happening but trusting his master

SQQ becomes visibly pregnant with Luo Bingseed at the IAC, bearing Binghe’s demon mark on his own forehead as a sign that he can’t exactly hide before everyone knows about it

Huan Hua accuses him of being a demon, but Mu Qingfang cuts in and explains that this is likely the effect of the plant, and that it is a simple matter of medicine to “cure” Shen Shixiong of whatever demonic parasite has latched onto him. (Due to the huadian and having met Binghe, LPM KNOWS who the demonic parasite inside SQQ is!) and YQY, not having the knowledge of Binghe, thinks the demonic parasite is Tianlang-Jun who is doing this for revenge–demands to see him, but Huan Hua is resistant

Huan Hua insists on locking up Shen Qingqiu in the water prison until the medicine is administered and takes its course, putting him in the Su Xiyan position where he said he would NEVER abort Luo Binghe XD

He refuses to take the medicine at first, but then it’s forced on him. He fights it just like Su Xiyan did, and his body and weakened cultivation from Without a Cure can’t handle it, and he’s falling apart. He still does his best to eat/drink/maintain his body ONLY because it’s a vessel for Binghe’s rebirth, and since demons who use the Parasite Dandelion kill their hosts anyway, he’s resigned to his own death either way (Completely not at all considering ever getting rid of Binghe as even an option)

Meanwhile Yue Qingyuan clandestinely pays a visit to Tianlang-Jun’s prison against the wishes of the OPM. His intent is to prove to the cultivation world that TLJ has escaped and that OPM is covering for it by keeping SQQ (Who TLJ is inside as a parasite) locked up. Instead, he finds TLJ right where he’s supposed to be, in bad shape, with Zhuzhi attending to him. 

YQY is incredulous and says as much in an out loud freak out. If the heavenly demon inside his Shidi isn’t Tianlang-Jun or Zhuzhi-Lang, who the hell is it?! He and TLJ put the pieces together that Su Xiyan had Tianlang-Jun’s child. YQY immediately (impulsively, without going over any terms) releases TLJ and the two of them storm Huan Hua together to get back SQQ and Binghe (And in TLJ’s case, to kill the Palace Master, which really if YQY looks away at this point, it’s only because he’s so concerned for his Shidi he can’t think of anything else!)

The two of them find SQQ being barely kept alive by GYX, who is transferring qi to him. The Binghe growing inside him is perfectly healthy and unharmed.

Even with a qi transfer from YQY as well, TLJ tells them it’s not enough, and that SQQ would still die. His only chance is to remove Binghe early, which TLJ and his blood parasites are capable of doing without either of the two dying (Probably. He thinks. He’s not exactly at full power, but it’s fine.)

The Binghe that comes out is a premature baby and needs a constant supply of both demonic and spiritual energy to sustain his life and maintain his growth

when YQY sees SQQ HOLDING A BABY he goes absolutely bonkers and pledges that he will help raise the child and presto, Binghe gets 3 dads

**Possible bingseed feeds on the System so as to harm SQQ as little as possible

Meanwhile TLJ is constantly teasing YQY "You know I feel like leveling a city this afternoon. Maybe you could do the righteous thing and distract me?" XD

[vii0so]

[BSD 121] Theory/Analysis

This chapter was full of things for me to over-analyse and theorise about. As always, expect spoilers, sidetracking and theories that sound farfetched.

Topics:

The (Fake) Page

Fyodor's Fixation on Dazai

The Book and Atsushi's Hallucinations

Rampo

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The (Fake) Page

To start, no...that's not the page.

As I mentioned in my last chapter post [BSD 120.5], this had been a plan from the start by Fyodor, for Atsushi to not question where the page is, by showing an ordinary page and letting him assume it's the page.

Plus, Atsushi was having a mental breakdown due to the situation at the time and couldn't think clearly but do you really think an actual page from the book - a godly item - would tear that easily? No way. It's known as indestructible for a reason.

Fyodor's plan was to break Atsushi mentally. That's what he wanted to see. Atsushi in despair.

Fyodor shows he has the page (tricking Atsushi), says it can bring his friends back (giving Atsushi hope), then tears it up right in front of him (Making Atsushi feel despair and hopelessness, breaking him).

Just look at his thoughts! He lost hope, fell to despair. If he doesn't fight, he'll die, and yet he sees no reason to continue.

Maybe Fyodor needs Atsushi to want to die before he kills him. Maybe as the 'bookmark', that's some sort of activation key for something to do with the book.

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Fyodor's Fixation on Dazai

Originally, I wasn't going to talk about this but here I am.

Fyodor decides to talk about Dazai right after mentioning the back of the page. In this he also mentions the prison, furthering my theory (Section: "The page isn't with Fyodor") that the real page is with Sigma back at the prison.

That was a bit off topic but needed mentioning, since Fyodor chooses to talk about Dazai right after mentioning the page (Yes, I'm saying it twice. Important things must be repeated).

Fyodor has no reason to mention Dazai in this way to Atsushi. If my theory that Fyodor needed Atsushi to fall into despair (...gosh, the more I say that word the more I think of Danganronpa), break him, is correct, then he has no reason to talk like this.

I would understand if Fyodor only talked about or mentioned how he beat Dazai, as Atsushi who views Dazai as all knowing would despair thinking "If Dazai couldn't beat him how can I even try?" (actually...did he already think this in one of the chapters and I forgot?) but Fyodor goes beyond that and mentions enjoying his time with Dazai.

Now, It could be just as they show; Fyodor making Atsushi believe that because of Dazai he will give Atsushi the page as stated with:

But he didn't need to do it like this.

Atsushi probably didn't even mentally register anything Fyodor said other than getting the page. So there really wasn't any reason to say all the Dazai stuff. Just mentioning giving Atsushi the page would have gotten the same reaction.

Dazai is a key figure in Atsushi's life and therefore suspecting emotional manipulation in this case (especially after finding out Atsushi - the tiger - is the book's emotional hearth - the bookmark.)

其は 「根源辺縁体」の　寵愛深き この世の楔

note: ...I spent quite a while stuck on translating this and it's not even part of Chapter 121 (it's 119) so I give up (for now).

I've left the Japanese behind in case I come back to this or in case someone else wants to tackle it (plus I spent way too long getting each kanji with my basic hiragana knowledge and BSD raws that didn't show the hiragana clearly for me to search for the kanji without guessing.)

= ✧ =

Anyway, the current translation ("emotional hearth"), would indicate that Atsushi's emotions play a big role in what happens. Therefore it's a given that Fyodor would emotionally manipulate him to activate some sort of trigger that'll help his plans.

But let's not suspect manipulation for a moment.

Why talk about Dazai?

Well, Dazai is important, "in what way?" I'm not sure, and Fyodor mentioning him right after the page shows that he is a key figure (connected to the book in some way).

Fyodor needs Dazai. Or at least...a version of him.

...I don't know what I'm saying either.

Dazai is 100% involved with the book in some way and Fyodor is aware of this fact.

Dazai is also one of the only people in Fyodor's life that understands him and can have an actual conversation with him. Fyodor has lived a long time. Once you live that long everything is predictable.

I'm sure some of the people reading this must have watched a movie or read a story at some point and thought "the ____ was obvious" wether it was the ending, villain, or something else. This happens because we have seen other media with the same things and therefore can predict what happens.

Now imagine you find a movie, book, game, etc. that isn't like anything you've seen before. It's got the same foundations and yet...you can't predict it. You can guess what will happen but you will never truly know (wow, a lot like me with BSD...I'm getting off topic).

That's how Fyodor feels. Seeing the same old cliche for 2k+ years, nothing new at all.

...Until he meets Dazai.

Dazai is the movie that's nothing like the others. A mysterious person he couldn't predict. Someone similar to himself.

So imagine you find a movie DVD that is the key to a door but also a movie that you've been looking for a long time (something new, unpredictable). You'd be interested, right? That's Fyodor's obsession with Dazai.

It's like being in a time loop and having someone remember with you. (is that even a good example? probably not...)

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The Book and Atsushi's Hallucinations

Honestly, at first I was like "Huh???", then I told myself, "Atsushi figured it out so we as the readers must be able to as well", and so I read it a couple more times and thought "The only thing that makes sense is that it's the book", any other possibility I came up with sounded too farfetched and might as well get turned into an au fanfic instead of a canon theory, so...It's the book.

Now, before I get into why, here's a random fact about myself:

I usually avoid reading other people's theories so that I can have fun theorising (having a mental breakdown/j) on my own without my theories being influenced by others.

That being said, I saw a post of someone being confused about the ending of the chapter and I was curious to see if anybody else thought it was the book like me in the post's comments.

To my surprise, a lot of people thought it was the tiger instead.

So let's start with: "Why is it not the tiger?"

This line is all the proof we need: "You're the tiger aren't you?"

It wouldn't be my style if I didn't try over analysing the raws...so I did!

I tried translating the original Japanese myself and basically got the same result with minor differences, so the [Nine of Cups] translation (shown on the left) is as accurate as it gets.

Since I didn't find anything particularly interesting while translating, here's some random Japanese that appears in the panel:

Anyway, yeah, there's no reason in my mind why it would be the tiger. There's just no way. There's no reason for it to be.

Why would the tiger say this? Why would the tiger not appear as itself? Why would Atsushi be so surprised if it was?

Also, Atsushi is the bookmark, the emotional hearth of the book, why wouldn't the book speak to him?

There's just no way it's the tiger.

Now, that we have that out of the way, let's continue:

The floor during Atsushi's "hallucinations" is usually just the ground/floor itself or a blank space (usually totally black or white).

But this time, the entire white area turns colour (from white to black), enabling us to see that there had been lines there all along.

The lines are most likely a reference to the japanese writing paper:

Genkouyoushi [ 原稿用紙 ] - manuscript paper

There have been references made before. Here are some examples:

A & C : Official Art ✧ B : Volume 18 cover ✧ D : TDIPUD LN Cover

Even though this time the distinct space between square rows isn't present and makes this look more like average grid paper I personally still believe it's a reference to genkouyoushi.

Since Atsushi is the emotional hearth, his emotions matter...a lot.

So let me give you a situation before the next part:

The lights suddenly go out in a factory, signifying that there's no power (electricity).

This factory relies heavily on electricity to function and therefore for emergencies has a backup power generator.

Once the power went out, the backup power generator kicked in, meaning nothing stopped for too long and work continued.

Now imagine:

Atsushi is the electricity in this case.

The Dazai "hallucinations" are the backup power generator.

And the factory is the book / the story we read (BSD)

When Atsushi loses all hope, without any chance at all of recovering, that will be the end of the book as well (Or at least it'll trigger something to do with the book).

Since that can't happen if the world is to continue, there is a fail-safe measure (the backup power generator) that activates when Atsushi feels particularly low (really low) or is in need of guidance away from self-destruction.

So, the book speaks in the image of Dazai - who Atsushi holds in high regard (though I'm fairly sure there's more to the book choosing "Dazai" than this) - as a way to "return the electricity to the factory".

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Rampo

Why is Rampo not mentioned here?

Seriously, what plan are Dazai and Rampo scheming against Fyodor?

He must be safe and working in the background...right?

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██████████ Completed!

I know I said I'd post this "soon"

...and suddenly "soon" turned into almost a month.

85% was written within a week of the chapter's release. But my brain didn't let me think after I tried deciphering Japanese (Kanji and general translation) for this (the translation part I gave up on) and suddenly I couldn't type anymore. I tried coming back to it but I still couldn't type much so I left it for a while.

Suddenly I realised I still hadn't finished it and the new chapter was releasing in a few hours! So I said to myself "leave it incomplete like the last time, or speed write a whole bunch of stuff and just post it".

...I typed faster than I thought I could.

So here it is, actually completed (a round of applause for me! :D)

I hope what I wrote makes sense, some parts may be off-topic(?) as I was in a rush and can't re-read what I wrote right now.

See you all in a few hours when I read the new chapter (or tomorrow if I choose to sleep after reading the chapter instead of immediately starting to type my theory/analysis post like I usually do)

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TLDR:

No, the "page" torn is not the real page. It was only used as an act to make Atsushi lose hope.

Yes, Fyodor is obsessed with Dazai in the way that we find an unpredictable movie without cliches refreshing.

Fyodor's manipulating Atsushi emotionally as a way to activate something to do with the book.

The Dazai "hallucinations" are the "book" and are a fail-safe measure (think more closely to: backup power generator) so that Atsushi - whose emotions affect the world - does not fall completely to despair (which is what Fyodor wants)

Rampo is not mentioned in the people who still need saving/are still alive but he's most likely planning in the background.

[starguardianniom]

It's not just that, it goes further than that too. In Ephemeral, Luka straight up ask Ladybug why it needs to be so complicated and why she can't just tell Chat Noir, and Ladybug straight up says that she knows him best and that he won't share his identity with anyone else but her first, she legit assumes she knows his answer and takes said asumption as face value and use it as the reason to not tell Chat Noir squat and deceive him. Like what?

Bitch he's more understanding than YOU are, if you fucking talked to him about it he would most likely agree, but if he disagreed then at least he would still have FUCKING KNOWN, but noooooooooo, Marinette knows people best, so she can already say with ease what she'll think they'll do and plan around the fictional scenario she imagined them doing to just do what she wants.

Seen all the way back in Crocoduel, where she thought Luka would be too sad to see her at his birthday party, so she instead decided to ask his twin sister and her good friend Juleka to tell him to NOT COME AT THEIR OWN FUCKING BIRTHDAY PARTY JUST TO NOT UPSET HIM COMPLETELY NOT REALISING THAT IT WOULD HURT NOT ONLY HIM BUT JULEKA AS WELL?????????? HELLO??? How did she come to this kind of new stupid ass conclusion???

What Marinette does is project her own feelings, thoughts and experiences on other people and then takes those at face value despite them literally not thinking the same way as her, not feeling the same and their situation not being the same as her, yet she does it anyway and then is always surprised when it doesn't work and blows up in her face.

It's a repeated pattern that has gone all the way since season 1.

Case in point, Reflekta. In the episode Marinette wants the photographer to retake the class photo so that Juleka can be in it, yet when she decides to take care of it, when she tells her idea, someone asks her why they can't just ask the photographer to do another one, and she straight up says that he won't do it, without asking first and without any hesitation whatsoever, she already thought and decided that he wouldn't do it so it was ok for her to steal the memory card of his camera. Like what? And at the end when she returns the memory card and ask nicely, guess what? The photographer agrees without any problem whatsoever, meaning that what she did during the episode was completely pointless. So she was completely proven wrong about her actions and thinking process, and yet, nothing stops her from doing it again in later episode, simply because she got rid of the evidence by deleting the photo in Chloé's phone, and for once I was siding with Chloé over it, Marinette had no right to go steal something in the principal's office, if she had asked nicely in the first place a lot of grief could have been avoided.

It's now season 6 and Marinette keeps doing the same crap, I'm so tired of her and her idiocy, how can she manage to defeat villains but completely fail at understanding other people so hard is beyond me.

Ephemeral is the episode that completely turned me against Marinette. Her solution to finding out Chat Noir's identity is to gaslight the hell out of him, when all she had to do was approach him and explain the situation like a rational person. Then the episode has the gall to act like she was right all along when she browbeats Su-Han into submission even though he was 100% right. I actually said "You're f**king disgusting!" to Marinette when I watched that scene. Does that make me a bad person?

---

Fortunately, Marinette is a fictional character and can't get her feelings hurt from us refusing to think she's a flawless queen when she manipulates and gaslights her way around her love interest and friends. And, like, that's the thing; Marinette does this stuff more than once. Getting Cat Noir to reveal his identity, gaslighting Adrien about his dad and manipulating Alya into becoming the backup Guardian. These are all people Marinette should be able to just be honest with, (because, if not them, who can she be honest with?) and when she is faced with a make or break decision in their relationships, she chooses deception over honesty.

I think disliking when such a character is being glorified as a flawless, selfless and heroic person by a piece of media aimed at preschoolers is, mostly, a morally neutral act. Like, there are genuine, good, moral values behind finding such a thing abhorrent, but we can’t exactly help many people despite how we feel about this stupid cartoon. But, also, just because we can’t help real people outside of offering support to the members of the fandom this show actually hurts with its abuse apologia, it doesn’t mean we are harming anyone either.

Being a spiteful, little hater every once in a while is a right. To claim otherwise would be to act as some kind of a thought police and none of us here better be cops. As long as we don’t hurt real people over it, keep cussing at the screen when it shows you cuss-worthy shit.

[scarilyaccurate]

straight transmasc people i love you so much and your attraction to women is not inherently "icky" or "dirty" or whatever other word terfs are trying to throw into the queer community nowadays

[lnbeep-art]

"A favor for a favor."

It is the Year of the Snake, which means Cam gets some love and attention before the month of MerMay for once... In this house we love an enemies to lovers dynamic, even if only Ari sees him as an enemy. Cam's just the trickster who likes the attention, negative or positive. Doesn't matter when he thinks he's in control of a situation.

Bonus little short story in the "Read More" below! Lots of lore building for the world, size stuff in the halfway mark. Consider it a companion piece to this.

TLDR: Ari finds a way to wound primordials and gods, but at the cost of it cursing him. Cameron offers to help alleviate it at no expense, just because he likes him.

Ari’s arm had morphed into a black and stinging limb, spreading farther and farther toward his chest. How much longer before the curse would claim his heart? 

Time and time again he’d tried to rid the curse, but not even his half-divine blood empowered his magic enough to extract it. He considered himself a relatively competent healer, and he had lifted quite a number of curses from others before during his wandering through the mortal realm. Was this curse simply out of his depth? A wall he’d slammed into in his current ability level?

Ari clicked his tongue, dropped his unmarred hand, and let the pink magic in his palm fade. 

No, he thought and grimaced. The curse just didn’t want to leave. Just like that other presence that haunted the recesses of his mind, waiting to make due on the mark bitten in his skin. 

Pulling his sleeve down, Ari sighed, then mussed up his bangs in frustration. When he glimpsed his reflection in the mirror, he saw it again; the golden twin snake tattoo on his shoulder. Surprisingly, it was not the same shoulder which bore his curse, although he would have been remiss to ignore he had two arms where marks miraculously tainted them. When he’d first received the snake tattoo, his skin had been raised and irritated. Now, it blended in like any of the other golden decals he’d paint on his body. At times, however, the mark would glitter as if brimming with the sun god’s light itself. 

A few robes and overcoats were all Ari required to hide the blight. The challenge came instead when he’d returned to the Summer Court. Like bloodhounds, the High Order of Summer Elves’  long-lived lives could detect primordial stench on him. “It was just a product of seeing the Luck Devourer face to face,” Ari had reassured them at the time. He was a being born from the gods themselves, the first of their kind. Of course his comparative power and essence would linger on Ari, especially when he’d had his claws on him. A split moment was all it took. 

That explanation allayed their suspicions, and he’d had no further questions since. This time? They might unearth the secret faster unless he vanquished Cameron himself. Until then, Ari would not allow the order to relieve him of this duty.

“You’re welcome to try smiting me as many times as you like,” Cameron’s words echoed. “I’m sure you’re itching to cover up this blunder of yours, aren’t you? Same time next week then?”

Ari growled under his breath and clenched his good hand. Arrogant bastard. Why couldn’t he have just stayed smote? 

Several sunrises had passed since Ari’s visit to Zahn and the Solona Ocean depths, pushing ahead on the rumors of Cameron’s whereabouts. The primordial had spoken as if he knew Ari’s return was immediate, but Ari refused the serpent that satisfaction. Why? Let him stew. Exchanging words was no greeting Ari wanted to partake in, but his twin sabers would be the best “hello” he could give. One for the primordial’s tongue, the other to carve off his shoulder’s mark with his own blade. 

It had likely vexed Cameron—the fact of how long Ari had waited to cross his shores again—and the thought delighted him at least a bit. However, that was not his sole motive; some of the mortal realm’s regions had the best libraries known across the realms, holding ancient wisdom from the war. Accounts of those who had managed to slay lesser monsters, and stories of champions who had felled ones even greater than Cameron. Knowledge like that was often difficult to come by, if only not to disrupt the current balance of their post-war world.   

Yet if he read between the lines long enough, a method would reveal itself to him. He had to find it. How many centuries had elapsed of Cameron spiriting away interesting finds, transforming them into nymphs to belong to his underwater dominion? The Order of Elves had failed to wrangle him in, and they were eager to repay the torment he’d enacted over time. It had been the gods’ mistake to leave Cameron surfing through mortal waters, unbidden and uninhibited. More would see injury in the reign of his whims.

Their greatest question had always been Cameron’s aim. In their lengthy diatribes, the oldest elves on the order stated primordial beings’ actions were devoid of reason; they took because they wanted, and they intended to keep whatever they possessed. Cameron’s kinship to dragons meant, of all the discorded primordial beings left to walk among the realms, coveting and hoarding burned stronger within him. Maybe he felt he deserved what he took because the pantheon had given his kind the shorter stick. It was why the Order found his greed insatiable. 

Eldritch horrors, primordial beings—they went beyond mortal reason. Cameron’s true form should have been incomprehensible, yet the Luck Devourer’s features were instead easy on the eyes. “Beautiful,” as many stories depicted him. And it was that beauty that Cameron lured in to surround himself with. He had created sirens from his desires to roam the seas. That was one interest most recorded of Cameron; what other reasons he had to act with the freedom he pleased was lost on Ari. Truly as mysterious and deep as the Solona Ocean itself.

When he’d laid on the shore of Zahn’s capital, Rimerock—spit out by Cameron’s promise and left to catch his breath—he’d been struck with the wonder: what side did he fall on? Was he of interest to Cameron because he was beautiful, or because he amused him? The curiosity had vanished just as quickly. After all, it wouldn’t change the mark Cameron etched on him. And with how vibrant the color was against his skin, pulsing intermittently, he certainly hadn’t forgotten Ari either. Unfortunately. 

He had no intention of becoming another item on the Luck Devourer’s lengthy menu, and he would not allow a mark he could not remove, nor a curse that refused to lift, to best him. There must have been a detail they’d yet learned, Ari told himself. A clue from the unturned stones. 

That was when he’d found it. A spell which enhanced the sword, cutting not bone and marrow, but what mattered to any divine being. Their essence. To kill a god, you killed not the god itself but the many threads of belief tethering them to the realms. And since Cameron thought himself one, the same method would work just as well.

What felt like molten fire surged through his arm and Ari winced, clutching it. Was this his punishment because he’d ignored Cameron’s call? Times like these, Ari almost wished he had not vowed to be his own battery. Mother Nature’s blood was his own, which allowed Ari to use his own power to supplicate his cleric needs. A half breed, Cameron had called him. 

I’ll show you ‘half breed,’ you snake. 

The ratta-tatt of knuckles wrapping against his personal chamber’s door distracted him. Ari’s long ears twitched, and after adjusting the billowing sleeves a second time, he answered, “Come in.” 

The sound of nails clicked against the tile floor, and Ari caught a flash of pink and white wings in the mirror. Varys? he thought. What was the messenger of love visiting him for? It wasn’t that the two were unfriendly—hard to dislike Varys when he was his sister’s confidant. But love did not stop, so Ari and Varys rarely spent leisure time together. 

“I thought you might still be here,” Varys said, and as he spoke, his gaze snagged on Ari’s arm. Instinctively, Ari tensed, which only made Varys sigh. “I wasn’t going to say anything since your business isn’t my business, but I can smell the stench of that as far as the palace gates. It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“How long have you known?”

A tired expression darkened Varys’ features. He snorted. “I know that it’s newer than the other trinket you have on you.” Varys tapped his own shoulder, the one that mirrored Ari’s primordial eyesore. “But you probably didn’t think I knew about that either.”

The archangel rank Varys held slipped Ari’s mind at times. The man often took the form of a werefox human instead of that of an angel, wielding digitigrade paws; furred, clawed hands; pink paw pads the color of blush; and the ears and tail of a fox, always alert. With the many tales mortals spread about Ivory and her herald of love, Varys had always said he’d play into the role of vixen. It seemed he quietly enjoyed it too. Ari thought it suited him. 

However, Varys was less keen to display his angelic lineage. Sometimes he brandished his wings in full view, and other times he hid them. Yet whether they were visible to the eye or not did not erase the angel in him. If anyone could sense evil on another, it would have been a holier being like Varys. And it had been Ari’s mistake in thinking he would stay completely under the radar. Had Ivory not noticed either? Unless she’d specifically asked Varys to pay Ari a visit, as was always the case for his equally busy sister. 

Ah, Ari thought. Varys’ visit made sense now. 

Ari turned to his work desk, clearing off the notebooks with their half-turned pages. He’d already demolished four of them in the past week, all filled with scrawls and his condensed versions of raving madmen, who believed they held the key to erasing divine creatures’ existence entirely. He scowled down at the notebook—how the light red cover became more stark under his pitch black hand. “I’m handling it,” he said. 

Varys crossed his arms. “Are you?”

“I will be. It’s his work, isn’t it?” As Ari spun to look at Varys, he paused at the way Varys’ brows furrowed. “...can you not tell?” 

Varys hesitated. “It’s old—I know that much. But it doesn’t exactly work like that, Ari. I’d have to know the caster well to know that it’s their magic.” He pointed a claw at Ari’s arm. “And both are relatively the same age, so the nature of your curse is foreign to me. …Have you thought of asking Cordelia about it?”

Ari’s mouth ticked downward. No matter if he was a son to Mother Nature or not, he would not burden the goddess with trivial problems he could solve on his own. It was the same reason he hadn’t sought out Ivory. “No need,” Ari said, his hand clasping the notebook and then the satchel hanging off the desk’s corner edge. He slung the strap across his shoulders and tucked the notebook inside. “I’ll be taking a short trip to Zahn. Ask the nymphs to prepare the Gate for me.”

Although Varys’ gaze needled his back, he didn’t bother blocking Ari’s exit at least. Slid away from it, in fact. “And what will you tell your court?”

Ari glared at the twin snakes on his left shoulder. “I have nothing to say to them until I’ve finished what I started.” Once he reached the Gate, he would ferry himself across the realms. If that monster wanted his visit, then he would have it. 

… 

… 

…

…

The midday sun captivated Zahn in its amber hue and sparkled like fairy lights across the horizon, the capital of Rimerock especially. Saltwater and ocean spray left a refreshing sea flavor in the air. As both a mineral city and vast trading port hub, Zahn’s nation thrived beside the great Solona Ocean. It was one of the most prosperous nations the mortal realm had to offer.

Yet neither trading ports nor the mountain peaks interested Ari. Instead, he stayed the course until he reached Zahn’s coastal edges, where the gap of water between Solona Ocean and the Blue Tides was tightest. Here, ships and creatures and scores of people had been aptly devoured, either to reappear in another region, or plane, entirely—or to never be heard from again. No mortal dared test the waters during a thunderstorm. 

Maybe this space of water had another name once. Now, it was known only as The Swallows.

Below the rocks, the rapids swirled and swirled to form a vicious, hungry whirlpool, one whose radius spanned as wide as a small village. The last time Ari visited, he’d been armed with a boat and first-timer’s bravado. He almost missed that naivety. Now he had a broken promise on one arm, and a time limit on the other. 

Light caught his periphery; the snake mark, brighter now as he stood at the water’s precipice, vibrated against Ari’s skin. When he retreated a few steps, the glow dimmed. Ari scowled at it before turning his gaze toward Rimerock again. Like newborn infants, the waves beside the docks cradled the boat’s tiny shapes. People were lucky to return intact at all, much less with their boat accompanying them. Surely no one could complain about a lost boat when they knew the risk they lived beside.

Ari took a single step toward the docks when a voice, coming distinctly from his left side, whispered at him. “Jump,” it said.

He froze. In spite of the region’s warm air, a chill accosted him from the top of his neck all the way down, tracing his spine. It was how he would have imagined Cameron’s claws raking his back if given the opportunity. 

More voices compounded upon the first, coupled with a mounting pressure in his cursed arm. Ari grit his teeth against the pain.

“Jump jump jump jump!” 

“Blessed child of the Fey.”

“Champion!” 

“Trust the process. Give yourself to the ocean, and it will guide you.” 

“Surrender!”

“Down down down!”

Hissing, Ari covered his ears. Had he finally lost it? The path he’d chosen specifically avoided any sirens’ games, but perhaps he had made a mistake. Sirens did not stray far from Cameron, because he loved them so, but not a single tail or melody carried over the waters. Now that the voices had quietened, only Ari in his silence remained, and the roaring whirlpool in front. That vortex could have easily wasted twenty ships alone. 

The water rolled closer, lapping the shoreline.

This was insane—he shouldn’t consider this. Not when it was undoubtedly another of Cameron’s tricks coaxing him to his demise. While the primordial released him initially, nowhere did that suggest he’d be as kind the next. So was this what Cameron wanted? For Ari to drown? Willingly? 

Ari squeezed his hands into fists, head inclined as he scorned The Swallows. His magic begged for release—spiked through him as a reminder not to forget what he possessed. Finally, Ari touched his throat and closed his eyes. 

Expand. 

His lungs ballooned with a thin layer of magical film, and three slices of the same pink glow cut across the sides of his neck. The first encounter with Cameron happened so hastily that Ari hadn’t enchanted an aquatic blessing unto himself before. Now, if circumstances necessitated he return home, the risk of drowning when he spoke was minimized. 

“Fine,” Ari said, the word a hiss between his teeth. “But I’ll make this your mistake.”

He plunged. 

When he resurfaced, arms akimbo and keeping him afloat, the current drew him toward the whirlpool. It was slow at first—taunting—until it yanked him. Ari’s heartbeat jumped like the waves. Why were the currents not taking him on a spin cycle? Rather, his body cut straight through, the single path available being the beeline toward The Swallows’ epicenter. And only a void greeted him at the end of that long, twisting cyclone. 

The voice returned in his right ear, deeper in its inflection this time—and steadier. Almost a tiger’s growl in his ear. “Closer.” 

It didn’t sound like how he remembered Cameron’s voice. What in the world was that? 

Once Ari reached the center, his body plummeted no differently than a ship torn apart by the waves. His yells became trapped in the bubbles flying from his mouth. The magical slits along his neck opened, extracting oxygen from the ocean and circulating it into his body. It was what allowed him to open his eyes sooner.  

Underwater, Mother Nature had dropped her bucket of paint to smear color that the surface’s sunlight could still capture. Except the color came not from an artisan’s tools, but scales. Fish—fish as far as the eye could see; eels, tuna, bass, mackerel, blue sharks. Yet none dared approach the cyclone containing him. He swore he saw a green light glint off of their scales too, but it could have been caused by his shoulder. The snake tattoo’s light had become so intense the farther he fell that it was the only light possible to see the fish. No natural sunlight could penetrate the depths of The Swallows. 

Had seconds passed? Minutes? Hours? His descent some several hundreds of feet below sea level pressed on, and eventually, the tendrils of light on Ari’s shoulder lost the fight against the ocean’s darkness. Even when he knew he’d thrust his hand outward, his fingers remained invisible to his eyes. It was only a matter of time before every bit of his senses faded.

However, Ari caught a sight in the distance: two green spots, electrified by the flecks of yellow in them. Split by those slit pupils. Watching, and waiting. Sharp white fangs hung underneath those eyes in a curved shape.

“Found you,” the familiar voice sang in his head just before his consciousness cut short. 

Ari had actually jumped. The audacious elven prince had actually done it. 

If a naga could be on the edge of their seat, Cameron had mastered the balancing act while his attentions were otherwise trained on Ari. He needed no mind-reading tricks to know Ari hated every bit of the decision—the prince’s frame had been riddled with tension and barely restrained frustration as he stood over Rimerock’s coast. In that state, he appeared so easy to ruffle—how could Cameron resist poking him? After all, what better game was there to play than the game of chicken? 

Yet life could still give Cameron surprises, apparently, as he’d watched the elven prince dive feet first into the waters. Cracking that stubborn self-respect Ari held impressed him enough to greet the elf personally. Not many held the honor. 

His uncoiled tail stretched on for miles as he moved through the scattered sands, making treasure ship bottles and coinstacks rattle. Trinkets he had collected over the centuries, dating every age of progress the cycles underwent. It was no palace like the pantheon, but it was his home—this little demiplane tucked in the corner of the mortal realm’s bounds. 

And now, as he bore down on Ari, the delight of finally putting eyes on him again simmered. Cameron tilted his head. “That’s a shame,” he murmured, eyeing Ari’s right arm. “Seems someone else got to you before I could, hmm?” 

Their time apart had created idle hands out of Ari, and during the absence, the elven prince had poked his nose where it did not belong. Old magic encased him, centralized in that blackened arm of his, and steadily tore through his essence. Cameron could taste it on the tip of his tongue—an acrid flavor, but all too familiar. Perhaps the prince assumed his half-divine blood would protect him, yet he failed to understand it only hastened the process.

Cameron had been so bored waiting for him, and when he finally returned, it was with a time limit on his life? Truly a travesty. At least the blessing he’d stamped onto Ari remained. He eyed it with a pleased hum.

Blessing of the trickster; that was what mortals called his snake tattoo when bound to him temporarily. The mark itself was fairly harmless, a way of saying Cameron had his eye on someone he liked well enough and had piqued his curiosity. It wouldn’t pain the wearer, and once Cameron stayed a permanent thought on their mind, he removed the mark and let nature take its course. If he wanted to become a god as well, belief in what he could give and accomplish was tantamount to his influence. He didn’t want to remain confined to Zahn alone. He wanted to travel the lands like the old days.

However, his blessing did come with a caveat. It was how Ari had found this new magic, but also where he had picked up his curse.

As his fingers encroached on the small figure, Ari immediately sprung to his feet like a jack-in-the-box. A bladed sickle appeared in the fey’s grasp and lanced forward. Cameron tutted, withdrawing and staring at fresh laceration where Ari had struck his fingers. 

“Straight to business as always, I see,” Cameron said. He pouted. “Really—after all this time, and not even a hello?” 

“What do you mean ‘someone else’ found me?” Ari demanded, keeping the blade level with Cameron. He backpedaled a few paces, glanced at the serpentine tail surrounding him, then slanted Cameron with an unamused glare. It must have been Ari’s default expression. “You won’t keep me here like the rest of your nymphs, Luck Devourer.” 

Cameron sighed and shook his head. The first words to come out of Ari’s mouth, and they were so vitriolic. Regardless, a smile curled on the corners of his lips. Ari had been silent as stone the first time they’d met, aside from when he’d cast his spell. He would take goading him to speak as an achievement. “You’ll come around.” 

Ari scoffed and jutted the scepter forward. “Talk. Or the next won’t let you staunch the bleeding.” 

Yes, Cameron thought; thanks to the time Ari had kept busy, he’d discovered some nasty tricks. Bleeding from a cut a mortal had inflicted had always been part of Cameron’s theatrics. It wouldn’t take long for him to wave his hand and dispel the wound with no blemish to find on his skin. That was the consequence of primordials, the gods had said—they made their first creations a little too powerful. 

Honestly? Cameron didn’t see the problem with it. What was the harm in having regenerative capabilities? They were a piece of the gods and titans that helped create them. Of course they should be entitled to that influence. And mortal beings only sought to attain the same power. Ironic, wasn’t it? If nothing else connected primordials and mortals, the color of their blood did—dark, red and vivid. 

This magic wasn’t nearly as humorous as Ari smiting him, but no matter. 

He turned his hand and fingers over, letting the trickle caress his arm too. Once enough time had passed, Cameron reversed the blood, sucking it back into the wound and closing the cut on his finger. When he turned back to Ari, his pupils thinned. Sweat had accumulated on Ari’s face, and though he tried to conceal it, his shoulders bobbed. He was panting. 

Cameron dropped his elbows on either side of the man and balanced his chin on his interlaced fingertips. “I can ease the burden you bear, you know. All you have to do is ask.”

“You mean the burden you put on me?” Ari rolled his shoulder, the one containing Cameron’s snakes, to better face him. “Don’t bother. I’ll do that myself when I cut out your lying tongue.” 

Cameron laughed. “I thought you were supposed to be the expert, love? All that research and you don’t know the difference between my mark and another’s?”

“Please. Spare me your lies, Luck Devourer. You leave this on my arm—” Ari tossed his hand toward his left shoulder “—and suddenly I’m magically cursed three and a half weeks later. I’m just supposed to believe that’s all a coincidence?” 

The elven man had wit, he would concede that. Most wouldn’t have drawn that conclusion. But he wasn’t wrong so much as he wasn’t right either. 

Cameron’s lips curled. Dropping one of his hands from his chin, he crept his fingers toward Ari. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed, however, as Ari sidestepped his hand, blade trained and poised to inflict another bite. 

“Do you think finding that research was coincidence too?” Cameron asked. “Equivalent exchange, my friend. Fate needs balance at some point, because the worst life can change for the better, while the opposite is true. The same applies for luck. Eventually you’ll run out of good luck, and all that’s left is the worst of it. Do you know that that is?” His voice fell to a whisper. “Karma.” 

Ari’s eyes widened and Cameron regarded him impassively. Karma was under Cameron’s eldest brother’s control, and no one wanted to gain Rayne’s ire—not even Cameron himself. A bitter reminder of how many leagues apart they were now that Rayne had ascended to control the storms and left behind his own kin, changing from primordial to the god of retribution. Cameron hated him for the loneliness it had brought. 

But perhaps the one memento Rayne had left had been the magical stopgap, preventing any divine beings from destroying primordials. Few gods wanted to reignite the Divisionary War—none such who hadn’t already been exiled, stripped of power, or banished to the outer realms.

Cameron had never been much invested in the war, finding it more fun to collect warriors, clerics, and warlocks who wished for something, or someone, to grant them powers. To take matters into their own hands and change. Was it really his fault if change meant both good and bad deeds? 

So, all of the gods had banded together to create a failsafe, one that would come at a cost. That was the exchange to end the war, and what led to Rayne’s ascension to begin with. The knowledge to kill a god’s essence was out there, but it was a race to the goalpost to reach it in time. 

And now Ari was cursed by that knowledge. All this because he couldn’t bother to visit sooner. If he’d stuck to simply smiting him, his good luck wouldn’t have soured nearly as quickly. 

Again, Cameron’s hand neared Ari, undeterred by the elf’s retreating footsteps. It wasn’t like he had very far to move—not with Cameron’s tail looped around the space. “It’s not my magic that’s eating away at you, little wanderer. As long as you carry that curse, you can’t even begin to make good on your promise,” Cameron said and smiled. “Unless you’ve given up trying to keep me out of the mortal planes? I surely hope not. You were just getting somewhere!” 

Ari clutched his head. “Stop talking.” 

Yet Cameron saw the thoughts churning behind Ari’s eyes in the way he stared at the ground. Risk. Each mortal, and demimortal, Cameron had crossed underwent the same weighing process. Were all of his words a lie? Or was there truth in them? Underestimating either side by even a hair could dramatically tip the scale. It made the tip of Cameron’s tail wiggle.

“My offer still stands,” Cameron added patiently. “Do so, and the curse won’t trouble you any longer.”

“And make it that much easier for you to put another one of your things on me like the last time?” Ari spat. “I’m not your fool to toy with, Cameron, and I’m not giving you another opportunity.” His hand glowed pink. “I’ll—”

All at once, Ari’s body seized up. The man dropped onto his knees, but despite his collapse, his black fist remained clutched on the handle of his scepter. Humming, Cameron leaned forward, close enough where his breath could tease strands of Ari’s brown hair. The sleeve covered a significant portion of Ari’s arm, but he noticed the nerves beneath the silk convulsed. It gave off the smell of soot and tar, markedly divine and twisted. 

For good measure, Ari took a swipe at Cameron, yet the blade did not connect. The one thing Cameron would not allow him to touch was his face. 

“You may have found the secret to wound me, but you’ll cut your own life short before you cut me,” Cameron said. “Why do you think you’ve been cursed? You could kill me, but you’re discovering it’s not so easy, aren’t you?”

“I’d rather die than accept your so-called ‘help.’”

“And yet you came to me, willingly, and chose this path for yourself! Make no mistake—I’m flattered, truly. But you didn’t have better things to do than put me on trial? That really hurts my feelings, you know. I’ve been minding my business.”

Ari growled quietly, and the sound of it made Cameron chuckle. The longer this went on, the greater his intrigue. Some of Ari’s peers were equally mouthy, but they’d crumbled faster under his ministrations. Ari, however, was stubborn. He might actually have let himself perish instead if it meant taking Cameron down with him.

Placing a claw-tipped finger against Ari’s blade, Cameron restricted him from lifting it a third time. He felt the blade twitch and wiggle under his nail from Ari’s effort to free it, then heard the slow-building sizzle the longer his nail touched. 

“Is your pride worth more than your life, Fey champion?” he asked softly, enough so that it made Ari’s ears twitch. He upturned his other hand’s palm to Ari and leaned over him. “Do you want it to end here and now when you’ve been the closest one of your circle?” Ari stared at him, and although he glared, shock belied those fiery pink eyes of his. Cameron tilted his head. “Did you think I didn’t know who you were, prince? I study all of my guests. The interesting ones anyway,” he added.

“Your tricks—”

“I speak only the truth this time.” The space around them shrunk bit by bit as Cameron added more coils to wrap around them. The shhff of sand carried across his entrance room. “I know my brother’s magic, well enough to know how to undo it too. Do you really wish to die with failure in your heart? That doesn’t seem befitting of the summer elves’ prince, wouldn’t you say?”

Those rose quartz eyes of Ari’s stayed locked on Cameron’s hand, distrustful and scathing. The only sound permeating the room then became that of sliding glass. Cameron’s zoetrope had shifted to display yet another realm of the fey. That didn’t matter now—he had the fey he’d been watching here with him now. No need to see Ari through a glass any longer. 

The tip of Cameron’s tail wiggled again when Ari reached his hand out, hesitated, then connected with one of the large fingers before him. His expression spoke nothing short of frustrated. Giving no room for second thoughts, Cameron slid his fingers underneath Ari’s body and into his palm, where he held him to his eyes. 

“A wise choice, love. Now let’s get this curse off, shall we? You’ll be untouched…mostly.”

“Don’t call me that,” Ari snapped. His gaze was transfixed by the dark wisps rising from out of his sleeve and into the air, coated in a green layer of mist that matched Cameron’s eyes. His heavy breaths slowed. “What do you mean ‘mostly’?”

“There’s more than just Rayne’s magic in this, I’m afraid! Such a thing happens when the whole of the pantheon wants to show off their skills.” Cameron hummed. “You’ll have to figure out the rest on your own. But at least you won’t die, so what’s there to sulk about?” He gingerly traced his nail against Ari’s head, stopping at his chin and tilting it to meet his gaze. “And I get to see more of this pretty face.” 

Although Ari shoved his finger away, the faintest hint of red stained his cheeks. “This doesn’t change anything else—know that.” 

Maybe not now, Cameron thought. But luck and fortune's favor were his specialties. 

[all-pacas]

my problem with this read is that too often it's literally used as a way to say "oh, she never loved any of her romantic partners in the show, she can't love, she never cared; camchase was doomed because lol she never loved him and never would; she only wants to Fix People, she does not Love." to the point i have a fairly knee-jerk reaction to this take; cameron's feelings in general on this show are almost always dismissed and handwaved away by fandom: did she love her husband? no, of course not! did she love house? she was mistaken! did she love chase and make real sacrifices and work hard on that relationship? nope! her crushes/romantic interests are never taken seriously, it is considered more plausible that she is gay and misguisded (not ever bi, mind you) than that she had feelings for anyone in her life.

(it's the same as that scene in lockdown: everyone hones in on "aha! cameron admits she NEVER LOVED HIM EVER" and forgets chase was literally yelling at her and ordering her to say just that, you know? totally different feel, but the former goes with the dismissal of cameron as a character/her having feelings for someone we don't want her to like, soooo)

it's frustrating because i actually do think you can make an interesting read of cameron as allo without actually undermining her real love and attraction to people in her life: her need to take care of others and habit of throwing so much empathy at them she loops back around to treating them according to her assumptions of what they want (see: house) reads very much as over-compensation, whether for her own trauma or because she's trying so hard; she wants love, she wants desperately to be loved and to matter, and you could make a compelling case that it's because she doesn't know exactly how it feels, what it's like, that she feels a lack and wants it gone. she very much did fall in love with chase reluctantly and despite her best efforts -- that does not mean she did not love him. maybe she did not truly know how she felt -- but she was still ready to devote herself to trying. maybe it was doomed anyway, but that's more interesting than just silly cameron, randomly marrying a guy she doesn't care about. it wouldn't have worked, she tells him in lockdown, much more sincerely than her i never loved you under coersion. (the fascinating irony is that we later learn chase is soooo fucked up about sex and a mutual allo grayromantic camchase would be. insane to me. two people who want love and family so bad but have no idea how to feel it.) i just… wish fandom could have both discussions, the one where cameron has feelings for everyone and everything and not merely the cameron was just being silly and didn't know what she wanted one.

think about aro cameron with me!!! think about alloaro cameron with me!!!!!

[utilitycaster]

I genuinely believe the fact that so many popular Imogen/Laudna fics are no-powers AU is, if not the main cause, at least a factor in why so many people resist or even are hostile towards any interpretation of Imogen that isn't largely sweet and harmless. Like, write the fic you want, but Imogen in particular is someone so fundamentally shaped by her powers that to write a no powers AU is to write what is essentially a completely original character who happens to share her name.

I think it's made even more obviously a factor because many of those fics try to reconstruct aspects of Imogen's personality by giving her anxiety or agoraphobia (or both) but the problem is that those are purely mental illnesses, rather than something that both gives her powers and penalties (again, the X-Men problem). Some real-world mental illnesses cover the symptoms of Imogen's abilities, but none cover the abilities themselves. It's quite literally a removal of agency: they take away what she can (and frequently does) do with her powers, leaving only the negative effects on her behind while eliminating the negative effects she can have on others. No wonder there's this overwhelming push to woobify her from that corner; they've utterly defanged her and are now crying that other people who can still see her fangs (and even like them) are talking about them.

And the thing is, for all I can be negative about fanon, it is, ultimately, fine - so long one can either keep it separate in one's mind from canon or else remain in a particular fanon sandbox. But unfortunately people leave the sandbox, and when other people respond to the canon Imogen, who as of episode 81 (RIP CRStats) has voluntarily used Detect Thoughts/Open Mind 60 times and has openly stated her intent to use it specifically to know what her party members are doing in advance and theoretically prevent it, the fanfic crowd is utterly unable to react to this intelligently. The idea of Imogen they have is sweet girl with severe anxiety and a goth girlfriend. The problem is this construct exists only in their favorite fanfic writers' domestic fluff modern AU no powers setting. And frankly, I'm not interested in talking about that warped mirror version of her when I could have all the fascination, complexity, glory, and agency of the real thing.

[squorttle-pox]

idk if it means anything really, but i think it's interesting how after all their time together as a couple in a christianity-adjacent world, lucifer and lilith only had one (1) child, and it was only 200 years ago at that

[ilovedthestars]

i understand and appreciate the sentiment behind them but god, as someone in the process of getting an art degree and intending to pursue a career in art, those "don't get a job doing what you love because you'll start to hate it" posts are depressing

[satsuha]

obviously i like certain aa cases over others but i feel like i have a generally neutral at worst opinion of all of them that it just sucks that certain cases get to be the fandom punching bag with supposedly no redeeming qualities or whatever (NOT TRUE) no fandom is immune to this for sure but god i really wish everyone a spoiler-free and fanon opinion-free playthrough of aa as possible

i like turnabout big top i like the franziska gumshoe shenanigans in it and i really liked acro i like recipe for turnabout maggey is great and tigre is iconic i like turnabout serenade i love apollo and ema being haters together and it also gave me one of my favourite obscure aa inside jokes:

[rincewitch]

every single time without fail i’ve gotten a covid booster shot it’s knocked me on my ass for like the next day and a half, so i’m not surprised that it’s happening once again, but i still don’t like it very much when i’m cursed for twenty-four to thirty-six hours to a sort of wretched half-existence where i’m too exhausted to do anything but not exhausted enough to just do nothing

[cacw]

I think online mutual culture is killing some of you

[forcedhesitation]

I love that the bg3 guys are all written to have this intense adoration of karlach and lae’zel’s abilities to absolutely eviscerate their enemies. they’ve all got the same taste in women, which is “she could gut the big scary man chasing me, and then princess carry me to safety in her blood spattered arms.” and I respect and relate to that, as a bisexual man myself.