#forced to save the world so much so that all they are to the world is a legacy

[timmydraker]

Thinking about Vampire Tim AU and him saving Bruce via turning.

None of the Drakes are actually Vampires, at least not permanently. It was a very strange instance that occurred out of pure chance and coincidence.

A pregnant Janet Drake in a foreign country having a run in with a starving vampire rouge that bite her just a few days before she gave birth.

Instead of the curse spreading to her, the labour of her child pushed and the spreading of lifeform spread to her baby as it was born. The child looked healthy, had no inhuman features, and they assumed her being so sick was simply the fact she was about to give birth.

Tim doesn’t realise what he is for a while purely because his parents are vegan and, until he was seven and had some beef from a classmates lunch, hadn’t had any blood enter his mouth.

Having to teach himself everything, Tim learned to manage both his hunger and abilities as quickly as he could. He studied history and mythos and did several test to figure out the limits to what he needed and could do.

He learnt that he could heal via blood, that he could go without air for days, and that his hearing was normal though his sense of smell was enough to distinguish blood types.

He learn that he could go two weeks without blood before it became a problem, but if he pushed it past three weeks he would start to experience literally decay.

Tim disconcerted his saving grace was that the hunger wasn’t as uncontrollable as people made it out to be in movies and books. At most, it was just like normal human hunger or thirst, and he was aware there was a huge variable in him being raised rather poorly.

He keeps it hidden for years, but then when he’s nineteen Bruce dies.

Not Batman, Bruce.

They got in a car crash of all things, the other drive running after they drove them off the road on the extremely rare instance that Alfred wasn’t driving.

Tim watched the tree branch in his foster father’s chest for several minutes as he thought about his options. Bruce was dead upon impact, gone with only the last wisps of life hanging to him.

Bruce was a father.

Batman was needed.

Even though it would out what he was, Tim forced his several sharp teeth out, all needle sharp and long enough his jaw had to unhinge slightly, and bit into his own wrist. The fangs, an inch long each, dug into his skin painfully before moving to dig into each of Bruce’s wrist and then finally his neck.

Tim smeared the blood into all three wounds and then squeezed as much as he could into Bruce’s mouth.

He had no idea how he knew what to do, trusting the instinct the curse seemed to just… give him.

When Bruce begins to breath again, Clark finally shows up. It’s been a total of eleven minutes and Tim only realises that the other took so long because he had been off planet, yet he is grateful because if he had been there…

Tim instructs Clark on how to cover up the scene, removing the cars and getting Bruce to the cave.

Dick is freaking out, worrying over his brothers ripped clothes and Bruce’s clear injuries, but Tim is quiet.

He takes Bruce’s medical cot and leads them both into a containment cell and then seals it, implementing his own lock as well as one of Bruce’s so no one can open it. He can hear someone banging on the glass a few times but he ignores it to stand over his father’s side and wait for him to wake up.

Naturally, when the older man does he’s panicked and screening Tim’s name.

Tim smiles at him sadly before taking hold of his hand, which Bruce immediately process as wrong.

“Why aren’t I dead?”

Smile growing sadder before fading to an almost formal look, Tim squeezed his hand before pulling away.

“I know you’ve had your suspicions and I thank you for trusting me regardless, but you are right. I’m not human Bruce, and now… you aren’t either.”

He lets the worlds settle for just a moment before continuing, knowing the other will want all the information he can. They’re both so similar in that way.

“I was born a vampire, I will always be a vampire. I will explain that all to you soon, but what you need to know is this: you do not need to drink human blood, you will not loose control over your thirst if you allow me to train you, and yes I had no choice. Gotham needs Batman and I-… I need my father. I will not apologise for my selfishness, but I am sorry you have to be like me.”

Bruce is quiet but he doesn’t move to kick Tim out, nor does he shout at him or cry in betrayal.

He’s surprised, but not more than Tim had ever seen before.

It’s almost an hour of silence between them before Bruce speaks again, “You… you are actually nineteen?”

Tim scoffs and Bruce glares, which makes Tim smile more, “I am. My body will age until around twenty five, at least that’s my hypothesis. If you are turned you stay the age you were, but I was born.”

Bruce nods and after a moment reaches out for his son’s hand.

Another silence before he squeezes it, “Have you told the others about… this change?”

Tim winces, “I tried to keep us separated because I knew you would worry for hurting someone, but I knew Damian would break in if he couldn’t listen so…”

“Ah. Understood.”

Then, in another rare instance that Tim thought he wouldn’t see for at least another few years, Bruce opens his arms to him for a hug.

Naturally, Tim crumbles into his father’s arms and sobs louder than a war drum.

Bruce kisses his head and holds him tight, a vampire embrace.

[littlelamy]

Request: Maybe Rafe and Reader have been dating for awhile but his cocaine addiction is getting worse and he thinks she is to pure/good for him, so in order to ''save her'' knowing she won't just leave if he tries to break up, he says he does not love her.......cue to him saving her when she is about to get hit by a car (but happy ending)

a/n: thank you for requesting!!☺️💕 pngs from @saizun

the moon hung low in the dark sky, its silver glow painting the beach in a cool, otherworldly light. the stars above flickered like distant candles, barely visible against the ink-black horizon. you knelt in the damp sand, your breath clouding in the chilly night air as you carefully cupped a baby turtle in your hands.

the little creature’s legs flailed against your palms, desperate to reach the sea. its determination was a stark contrast to the ache in your chest that hadn’t dulled in the two weeks since rafe cameron had shattered your world.

“this way, little guy,” you whispered, placing the turtle closer to the waves lapping gently at the shore. you sat back on your heels, the water soaking into the hem of your pants, and watched as the tide carried the tiny creature away.

you felt at peace in moments like this—away from everything, especially the memories of rafe.

but peace never lasted long when it came to him.

rafe sat in his truck a short distance away, his fingers twitching against the steering wheel. he shouldn’t have come here. seeing you again, after what he’d done, was a mistake.

yet here he was.

from where he sat, he could see you crouched on the sand, your figure illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. you looked serene, your hair tumbling over your shoulders as you reached toward the water.

he clenched his jaw. he didn’t deserve to look at you, let alone love you.

but it didn’t stop him from being here.

two weeks had passed since he’d told you he didn’t love you anymore. two weeks of torturing himself with the memory of your face—hurt, confused, desperate to understand. he’d lied because he thought it would save you. because he thought pushing you away would keep you from sinking with him.

instead, it had only made him sink deeper.

on the seat next to him, a bag of cocaine lay unopened. for once, he didn’t even want it. what he wanted was impossible—to turn back time and undo the damage he’d done.

his stomach churned when he saw the headlights.

you heard the rumble of an engine before you saw the headlights sweeping across the sand. you turned your head, squinting against the glare as the vehicle sped closer.

it was a blue jeep, its music blaring loud enough to drown out the waves. your stomach twisted when you recognized it.

topper.

the bass from the speakers shook the air as the car barreled toward the shoreline, its tires kicking up clouds of sand.

“seriously?” you muttered under your breath, standing up. you waved your arms, your voice cutting through the night. “hey! slow down!”

the jeep didn’t stop. instead, it swerved closer, the headlights making it nearly impossible to see.

your heart hammered as the car bore down on you, its speed relentless.

rafe’s blood ran cold as he watched the jeep hurtling toward you.

it didn’t take much to guess who was behind the wheel. ruthie and topper had been drinking all night—it was obvious from the way the car swerved recklessly across the sand.

the jeep was getting closer, and you weren’t moving.

“goddammit,” rafe hissed, throwing his truck into drive and flooring the gas.

the sound of tires skidding on sand drowned out the crashing of waves.

the jeep’s headlights blinded you, freezing you in place like a deer caught in a trap. your legs refused to move, your breath caught in your throat as the car sped closer.

“y/n!”

the shout snapped you out of your trance, but it was too late. the car was almost on you.

suddenly, a solid force slammed into you, knocking you off your feet. you hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from your lungs as sand scraped against your skin.

the jeep swerved at the last second, speeding past with a deafening roar and disappearing down the beach.

you lay there, stunned, the world spinning around you.

“baby! are you okay?”

you turned your head and saw rafe kneeling beside you, his face pale and drawn, his chest heaving as if he’d just run a marathon.

“rafe?”

“you could’ve been killed!” his voice shook with anger and fear.

“i—what are you doing here?”

“are you serious right now?” he snapped. “i just saved your life, and you’re asking me that?”

his hands were all over you, checking for injuries. the touch was rough, desperate, and achingly familiar.

“i’m fine,” you muttered, sitting up slowly.

“you’re not fine,” he shot back, his voice cracking. “what the hell were you thinking, standing in the middle of the beach like that?”

“i was helping the turtles!” you exclaimed, frustration bubbling to the surface.

“turtles?” he stared at you like you’d grown a second head. “you almost died because of some turtles?”

“why do you even care?” the words spilled out before you could stop them, sharp and laced with bitterness. “you don’t love me, remember?”

rafe froze, his expression crumbling.

“y/n…”

“no, don’t. you don’t get to act like this after what you did.” tears burned your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “you don’t get to pretend like you care.”

“i do care,” he said, his voice raw. “i never stopped caring.”

“then why did you say it?”

“because i thought i was protecting you!” his voice rose, echoing over the waves. “i thought if i let you go, you’d be safe from me. from all of this.”

“rafe—”

“no, listen to me.” his hands cupped your face, his blue eyes searching yours. “i didn’t mean it. any of it. i said it because i’m a coward. because i didn’t want you to see what i’ve become.”

tears spilled down your cheeks, blurring your vision. “you didn’t have to do this alone. i would’ve helped you.”

“i didn’t want you to.” his voice cracked, thick with emotion. “you’re too good, y/n. too good for someone like me.”

“that’s not your decision to make,” you said, your voice trembling. “you don’t get to decide what’s good for me. i do. and i chose you, rafe. i always chose you.”

his thumb brushed a tear from your cheek. “i don’t deserve you.”

“then be someone who does,” you whispered.

he closed his eyes, his forehead resting against yours. “i don’t know how.”

“we’ll figure it out. together.”

the words hung in the air between you, fragile but full of hope.

for the first time in weeks, rafe felt like he could breathe again.

“i love you,” he said, the words breaking free like a dam finally bursting. “i love you so much, and i’m so sorry i ever made you think i didn’t.”

you pulled him into a hug, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck. he held you like you were his lifeline, his anchor in the storm.

“i love you too,” you murmured against his shoulder.

the night stretched on, the waves crashing softly in the background as you clung to each other. the future was uncertain, but for now, you had each other.

and that was enough.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl l @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[zevveli]

"It's home." Roger said in response. It was a simple answer, and he said it as if it was completely obvious. Then went back to his meal.

"But you weren't born on Earth," I countered, "in fact you've never been there before. In fact, if I recall correctly, only a fraction of a percent of humanity was born on Earth."

"No no," he corrected, "only a fraction of a percent of humanity will ever SEE Earth in our lifetime. Less than one percent of one percent of humanity lives on Earth."

"But then, why do you still consider it home?"

"That's just how humans are. As long as we have a living memory of someone who was from a place, we still consider ourselves as coming from that place. And as long as someone passes that memory down to another person, that memory still lives." He took a bite from the baked dish in front of him and gestured at me with the eating utensil. "We have extensive religious and cultural traditions surrounding that belief. Plus, there is the other aspect of it."

"The other aspect?" I asked.

"Right, the 'I won't let the efforts of my ancestors be in vain' aspect. It's a powerful motivator for humanity, as the Tallians found out the hard way."

I nodded in thought. The Tallians were a fierce and fearsome race, who had a nasty reputation for slavery. They had a pretty standard method of operation, they would find a planet with a desperate and impoverished population and either trick the population into allowing themselves to be enslaved with a promise of a better life, or by capturing and pressing them into servitude by force. About eight years ago they had set their sights on a small human colony that had become something of a slum planet. When they didn't get as many "volunteers" as they had been expecting, the Tallians turned to force. After the ransacking of the colony had been accomplished the Tallian fleet was intercepted by a fleet of human ships and had been forced to free the enslaved humans. Humanity then launched a massive scale campaign against the Tallians and forcibly dismantled their entire slave system. The Tallians still exist, but they are much more subdued and mostly find work as muscle-for-hire these days. "Right," I said, "If one of you is wronged all the humans who hear of it rise up. So you stubbornly cling to your crib-world because it was attacked by an enemy?"

"No," Roger shook his head. "You misunderstand, the lesson to the Tallians was not the fierce might of our military, it was this. When they initially tried to enslave the human populace they fought back with whatever improvised weapons they could cobble together. They fought tooth and nail, literally, not just for their freedoms but for the scant life that their ancestors had built up. Earth is decaying, we know this, it is a natural progression. But long ago Earth was in danger of dying because of our own actions, we poisoned our own water and air out of greed, malice, and sometimes even ignorance. But our ancestors fought back, and even when it looked hopeless they managed to clear the poison and heal our planet. We never would have made it to today without them. So we can't just let the planet die, because we feel like if we did then we would be betraying our ancestors who fought so hard to save our world for us."

"You humans have hundreds of planets under your control, so why do you waste so many resources trying to make that Earth planet habital? I genuinely don't understand."

[jayden-writes]

safe

pairing: Lucifer x gn!Reader

wordcount: ~3k

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, whump

cw: kidnapping, strangulation, threats, violence, murder

summary: Did it truly matter that the hands cradling your face so very gently were bloody?

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic

A piece of fabric pressing over your mouth and nose was all it took to plunge your world into darkness, a pungent smell being the last thing you could process. You’d been on your way back from a short trip, unsuspecting, unaware of who was lurking in the shadows. How much time had passed, you couldn’t possibly tell, but as you finally came to, all you could feel was a dull pain engulfing your entire body. Upon trying to check for any injuries, you realized your wrists were tied, bindings digging tightly into your skin. Slowly, your other senses started to return to you, and you registered that you were sitting, something around your chest keeping you upright.

Forcing your eyelids open, you blinked a few times, attempting to make sense of your surroundings. It was dark, the small, sparse room only dimly lit. If you had to guess, you'd say it was some sort of basement; the floor was unfinished, and the brick wall looked rough. “Mh-” you tried to speak, but all that you managed to get out was a muffled, quiet sound. You’ve been gagged. A heavy weight settled deep in your stomach. The cloth forced between your teeth tasted musty, already damp with your saliva. Looking down with wide eyes, you took in the multiple rows of rope wrapped around your upper body, restricting your breathing, arms bound behind you at an awkward, painful angle that made your shoulders ache. The edge of the metal chair you were sitting on cut into your thighs.

When you wiggled around to free yourself, or at least loosen the restraints, the legs scraped on the crude floor, making your ears hurt. But no matter how hard you fought, it was futile. Holding back tears, you let your head hang, closing your eyes. Deliberately keeping your inhales slow and steady, you tried to think of a solution despite your racing thoughts. Panicking wouldn’t save you, you knew that. Clearly, you would be unable to free yourself without outside assistance. And with your mouth gagged, you weren’t even able to invoke one of your pacts to call them for help. So, what should you do? What could you do?

Before you had any more time to reflect on your circumstances, you heard heavy footsteps above you, drawing your attention. Seconds later, a door was opened, the light momentarily blinding you, then it was cut off again. In the remaining light bleeding through the crack of the door, you saw feet, legs and after that, slowly, the rest of someone unknown to you entered your field of vision - though it was obvious that it was a demon. Her eyes were unnaturally bright, the pale blue piercing through you. A wolfish grin curled around her lips as she stepped closer. You wanted to shrink back, huddle into the furthest corner of the room. But you couldn’t.

“Ah, finally awake, are we? I bet you must have a lot of questions.” Her voice was casual, as if she was simply out for a stroll while she towered over you. “Well, too bad! You see, as much as I’d like to have what would undoubtedly be a very productive conversation with you, I know you’d just call upon one of those so-called Lords that grovel at your feet.”

“Mph…! Mn…!” you tried again, only earning an amused chuckle from her.

“I’m not particularly keen on having one of those brothers that practically fawn over you come to your rescue. Pathetic, really. Demons of their status acting like that around a human. They're supposed to be leaders, to be an example to us lowly demons. Ha, as if! Traitors, all of them, and they should be treated as such.” She gripped your chin roughly, her pointed fingernails scraping along your flesh as you glared at her defiantly despite the ice-cold sensation running through your veins.

“Don’t give me that fucking look, human, show me some respect,” she sneered. For a moment longer, she held your gaze, then her eyes wavered. Faster than you could comprehend, a sharp smack resounded in the small room, and your cheek stung. The force of the slap made your head spin. “You’ll lose that defiant look of yours soon enough and learn to grovel at our feet, just the way it should be. I’ll correct the mistake that fool of a prince made.”

Leaning even closer, she brought her hand down to your throat, closing her grip tightly around it. “I could kill you, just like this,” she whispered harshly into your ear as you struggled against her. Faintness quickly took you over, and your vision became frayed at the edges. Were you going to die like this? “Throw your decaying corpse at the feet of these pathetic weaklings and watch them become consumed by their emotions. And then, I’ll be the king.” You couldn’t die. Not now. Not like this. Not here. Not at her hands.

Finally, she let go of you, and you slumped forward. Blood rushed in your ears and you coughed into the cloth. “Tsk.” She spat on the ground right next to where you were trembling on the chair. “That was more boring than I’d expected. Thought you had more fight in you. But you'll see-”

Her speech was cut off when, suddenly, the door was thrown open, banging against the wall and making both you and your captor flinch. “And what exactly,” drawled a frigid voice as slow steps descended the stairs, “was ‘more boring than expected’? Enlighten me.”

You immediately recognized who it was - of course you did. But the softness that usually laced Lucifer's tone whenever he was talking to you was entirely gone, replaced by a sharpness you’d rarely heard from him. It wasn't directed toward you, you knew that, and yet you couldn't help the shiver running down your spine at the sound of his booming voice. Though he sounded composed, it was clear that he was anything but. The air felt electric, and the dangerous aura he exuded made your hair stand on end. Your heart skipped a beat, only to start pounding faster, a whimper escaping from behind the gag.

Lucifer came to a stop in front of the other demon, who had become virtually frozen in place, all color drained from her face. Gleaming red eyes glanced at you, swiftly assessing your state, before, whatever it was he saw, made his gaze harden even further. “Look away,” he instructed you in an oddly soft tone, and then his focus returned to your abductor, who was now visibly shaking.

“M-my lord,” she stammered, the quiver in her words unmistakable. “Please, you must understand-”

Within the blink of an eye, Lucifer had her pinned against the wall, a pained shriek filling the room. “What must I understand?” he asked, sounding deceptively calm, as his fingers dug into the throat of the other demon. She fought against the grip, trying to loosen the hold. To no avail. Lucifer was unmoving, unbothered by the nails scratching at his gloved hands. Clicking his tongue, he let go, and she collapsed to the ground.

“Please,” she tried, her voice strained as she coughed, attempting to gather herself. A hard kick was delivered to her stomach, causing her to cry out again and curl in on herself. When it was followed by Lucifer stepping on her hand, you knew you should have heeded his order and looked away. As it was, you were unable to avert your gaze as the bones of her fingers cracked beneath the force of his foot. She was pulled up to stand, though most of her weight was being held up by him, pinning her against the wall once more. “I-I'm sorry,” she choked out as he pressed his forearm into her throat.

“Are you truly sorry? Or are you merely trying to save your worthless skin?” Lucifer questioned in a dangerously low voice. He trailed a finger along her cheekbone. “Perhaps,” he mused, “I should rid your body of it. Find a better purpose for it. I believe some bookbinders still use demon skin for books. It would make a terrific present for your family, wouldn't you agree?” He paused, taking in the horror flickering across her face with an impassive expression. “Of course, that would be rather time-consuming. And, quite frankly, I have more important things to tend to than your worthless existence. Let's make this quick then, shall we?”

As if she weighed nothing, he slung her toward the opposite wall, a sickening crack audible as her head made contact with the bricks. She bonelessly fell to the floor, groaning in pain. Before she was able to regain her bearings, Lucifer was kneeling beside her prone body, not caring about the rapidly forming puddle of blood that was dirtying his pants. A dagger glinted in the dimly lit room, and only when blood spurted from her throat, her last, gurgling attempts at breathing filling the air, did you look away, your breaths coming in sharp gasps against the cloth. You felt sick.

With the mangled corpse of the demon lying at the feet of Lucifer, his gaze returned to your quivering form. The intense sheen in his eyes vanished as he took swift steps toward you, appraising your pale appearance. Crouching near you, he partially obscured the gruesome scene behind him. But now, with him finally by your side, he didn't need to. You didn't want to look at it, didn't care about the dead demon, the only thing your sight was drawn to was him. All that mattered was the man before you. The man who could easily kill you just like he killed her, who barely even batted an eye at the wounds he’d inflicted upon that woman. You knew that, rationally, you should be terrified of him, at least as much as you’d been terrified of her. And yet you weren't.

Those same hands that had just killed in cold blood, still stained red, were gently working on undoing the painful restraints keeping you in place. Those same eyes that had shone with ruthless indifference as he had taken a life now looked at you with carefully guarded concern and cautiousness. The crimson streaking his sharp features, dripping off his jaw in beads, complemented the eyes that were looking at you with a contradictory softness perfectly.

Once the cloth was removed from your mouth, all you could muster was a broken sob in the vague shape of his name. With a soft sigh that was probably shakier than Lucifer would have liked to admit, you were gathered into his arms. A hand gingerly pressed against the back of your head, guiding your face into the crook of his neck. The wet blood on his glove was undoubtedly staining your hair, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care; the warmth and safety you found in his embrace was all that mattered.

“Do you have any serious injuries?” he asked quietly, his breath brushing against your ear. Upon feeling you shake your head, he lifted you from the chair, carrying your weight with ease, and you instinctively wrapped your arms over his shoulders. As soon as he'd made it up the stairs, you could hear multiple sets of steps approaching in a hurry alongside several voices, yelling over each other. You recognized all of them, and they rushed around you, a few of them touching you.

Lucifer tightened his hold on you as the sudden onslaught of sensations made you whimper and burrow yourself further into him. “Stop it. This is not helping,” he reprimanded them sharply, and immediately, it grew quiet and the hands withdrew. “I will return home,” he continued. “Do with the body as you wish, though you ought to leave some remains. And don't dawdle too long.”

With that, he went outside, the fresh, cool air replacing the stuffy, metallic tang of the basement. The trip back was short - or was it long? You weren’t sure. It was silent, neither you nor him said anything. The tension in Lucifer was palpable, his posture rigid as he carried you. You mindlessly played with the fabric of his shirt, rubbing it between the tips of your fingers while your head rested on his shoulder.

“I'm okay,” you whispered, although it sounded hollow even to your own ears. He released a heavy sigh and hugged you closer to him.

“You're okay,” he simply echoed.

Next thing you knew, you were back inside. Lucifer's bloody hands were gentle as they worked on divesting your still-trembling form of your clothes, his gaze never lingering anywhere but his own fingers. Not that you would have noticed either way; you were blankly staring ahead, only vaguely aware of his actions. When he had finished, he spoke in a soft voice, as if afraid to startle you, “All done. Are you ready to get in?” Your attention snapped back to the present, to the warm bathroom you were standing in. The tiles beneath your bare feet were a little cold, just now starting to heat up. In the background, water was running, gradually filling the bathtub right next to you.

“Lucifer…?” you mumbled, receiving a squeeze to your hands in response. Looking down, you realized he was gently holding them in his own, ugly bruises and abrasions blooming across your wrists. His gloves were still damp, some of the blood staining your skin.

“Yes. I’m here. Let’s get you cleaned up now,” he responded patiently, directing you toward the tub. Your steps were mechanical as you followed his guidance, entering the warm water and submerging your body in it. Drawing your knees up to your chest, you hugged your legs to yourself, simply gazing at the rippling shapes around you.

“I will leave for a moment to change. Call for me if something is the matter.” For a beat, Lucifer waited for a reply, a reaction, anything from you. When he received none, he sighed wearily. “It will only be for a moment, I will be right back,” he said before stepping out. As you submerged your hands, you watched as the water surrounding you turned a light shade of pink. The pain radiating from your wrists was distant, detached from your being. You observed how you flexed your fingers, then curled them toward your palm, nails digging into the flesh. Had your hands always looked like that? Turning them around, you inspected them, spreading the fingers apart, pressing them together and-

“Does it hurt a lot?” a voice asked and you flinched hard, spinning toward the source. Lucifer was kneeling next to the tub, his brow creased in a frown. “I did not mean to startle you. You seemed very… absorbed in your thoughts. I suppose you didn’t hear me return.” His gloves were gone now, with no traces of the blood that had marred his skin just minutes ago. He had changed into clean, comfortable clothes as well. Upon your prolonged silence, he reached for a nearby cloth, dipping it into the water, then moving it over your body in slow, gentle circles.

“Is this real?” you muttered, the words leaving your mouth before you had even formed the thought.

“Yes, it is real,” he confirmed calmly, though his ministrations faltered briefly. “We are in my bathroom, back in the House of Lamentation. You are safe here.”

“Mhm…” you hummed noncommittally, your gaze drifting down to your submerged hands as you balled them into fists and stretched them out. The water rippled at the repetitive motion and you couldn’t help but stare at the patterns it created. The sensation of the cloth brushing over your skin faded into the background. Only when larger hands stopped your movements, grasping yours gently, did you glance at Lucifer again. You blinked at him blankly. Something in his expression was off, though you couldn’t tell what it was.

“I’m tired,” a voice said and you didn’t have the energy to think about whether it was your own or not.

“Let’s get you into bed then, hm?” he suggested softly, letting the water drain and carefully supporting you as you stood up and stepped out of the tub. A large towel was wrapped around you with which he patted you dry before he helped you into a set of clothes. They vaguely smelled like him. With an arm over your shoulders, he guided you out of the bathroom and back toward his room. Once at the bed, you lay down, sinking into the mattress. For a moment, Lucifer simply remained next to you, regarding you with an unreadable look on his face. Eventually, he knelt beside you and opened the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a small container. Gingerly, he took one of your arms and scooped out some ointment to apply to the raw skin on your wrist, then he repeated it on the other side as well.

After stowing it away again, Lucifer turned off all the lights besides the candles and climbed into the bed next to you, cautiously gathering you into an embrace. A hand cupped the back of your head, hugging you into his chest as the fingers stroked your scalp. Aside from his even breaths and your slow, shallow ones, it was silent. An invisible weight was tugging on your limbs, the only thing holding you in place, holding you together, were the arms enveloping you.

“Can I let go?” you mumbled, not quite sure yourself what you were trying to ask, but he seemed to understand nonetheless.

“Yes, it’s alright to let go now,” he reassured you, squeezing you a little tighter. “I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

Humming in response, you nestled closer to him, feeling your breaths gradually synchronize with his as you surrendered yourself to the heavy warmth overcoming you. Soon, everything else slowly faded away until you finally drifted off to sleep, safe in Lucifer’s hold.

[mythalism]

on solavellan becoming andraste and the maker, and applying the concept of mantling to dragon age

for the uninitiated, mantling is a concept from the elder scrolls series that refers to the process of a mortal becoming a god by becoming so much like them that they become indistinguishable, and thus, the same. its synonymous with the use of the term "apotheosis" within the same universe, but also distinct, because it specifically involves "re-enacting the Mythic patterns established by the [Gods] until their power is surrendered to the mantler. In the process, the mortal and the deity become metaphysically synonymous with one another, allowing the mortal to claim the office and sphere of the mantled diety for themselves, reshaping them in the process." (x)

sound familiar?

but first, there are several examples of how this works narratively in the elder scrolls universe. one of the best is probably the mantling of sheogorath by the player character in the shivering isles DLC of the elder scrolls IV: oblivion.

at the climax of the DLC, the god of madness, sheogorath, for whom you've been doing quests for for quite a while now, basically reveals that he molded you into someone who could take his place as the Mad God, as his time is running out due to a long running divine cycle of order vs. chaos called the greymarch. its all very mythological and confusing and not really relevant to this but im including these quotes from re-watching the quest (x) to refresh my own memory and give you an idea of the general vibe:

the realm is crumbling, the cycle of destruction is imminent, and its god bemoans the loss of the world he loves but cannot stop his own demise. the only way to save it is if someone else becomes him - takes the throne, assumes his office, sacrifices their individuality and mortal desires for what the realm needs and mantle it's god...... this is literally solas mantling the maker like cmon!! and if i was in charge at bioware you can bet your ass that rook would've been mantling the dread wolf as thedas' new trickster god as solas took on a different godly role considering how he literally molds rook in his image and TELLS THEM THAT.......... but thats an essay for another day.

the player character of oblivion begins as sheogorath's champion and eventually becomes him, lavellan begins as andraste's herald and eventually becomes her as she walks her path, culminating in her decision to join the maker in the golden city for eternity, effectively uniting their mythology so that they become indistinguishable.

the player character of morrowind also goes through a similar process that the inquisitor does, as a prophesied savior navigating the role that has been thrust upon them. in the elder scrolls III morrowind, the story revolves around you being the prophesised "nerevarine", the second coming of the hero, indoril nerevar, who will cast down the false gods and expel the empire from their homeland. in reality, the game makes it very clear very quickly that no one has any fucking clue if you are actually the nerevarine, but the empire is going to MAKE you into the nerevarine by making you "walk the path" laid out in the prophecy. and thats what the entire main quest is; you re-enacting the prophecy to literally become the prophet that the world needs. the game never answers whether or not you actually were the nerevarine, but at some point, the distinction ceases to matter. you've become them.

you can see how similar this is to an inquisitor walking the path of andraste, to solas being forced to walk the path of the dread wolf and later the maker. whether or not they are one and the same is irrelevant, when you become mythologically indistinguishable, when you become what the world needs you to become, who you were ceases to matter.

in my original post about this i mentioned CHIM as well and CHIM is a very unruly, not even fully canon concept within the elder scrolls. so i dont really want to delve super deep into it because its fucking insane for one but also because it doesn't fit quite as well as the framework of mantling does, but there are a few things said about CHIM in elder scrolls that just feel soooooooo similar to what we see in dragon age that i want to share them because i truly think there is a thread of inspiration to be followed here.

CHIM is basically enlightenment in the elder scrolls universe where someone within the games reaches a state of divine lucidity. its been compared to lucid dreaming by one of the tes devs, or "divine hypnagogia", and the final state beyond CHIM, called Amaranth, allows a character to realize they exist in a video game. LMAO. so when i say solas and lavellan achieve something akin to CHIM i do not mean it literally, i do not think they are breaking the fourth wall and realizing they exist in a video game, nor would i want that. i would actually hate that as a writing decision. but whats interesting is the language that is sometimes used to talk about CHIM, and the way solas and lavellan's ending involves them reaching a sort of peace and acceptance about their place in the world as mythological figures instead of individuals.

i wrote this in response to an ask once and i've reposted it several times and i'm doing it again now because honestly it was the best way to articulate this and i dont think i can recreate it LMAO; "solas and lavellan are at once both finally free of the burdens of the myths and expectations that follow them as the dread wolf and the herald of andraste because they have left the mortal world that forced them into those roles and stripped them of their personhood, but they have also completely submitted themselves to those roles by submitting to the logical conclusion of the myths that they could not escape. for the dread wolf, it is earning his redemption through his willing submission to his own trap. its the logical, full-circle mythological conclusion to the trickster who trapped the gods, now trapped for eternity himself. for the inquisitor, it is andraste's herald finally sharing andraste's fate, choosing to leave the mortal world behind to ascend to the golden city alongside the god that she loves. both (presumably, for a lavellan) have tried to reject the myths attached to them over and over and over, but in the end they choose them willingly, and that choice at once binds them to those myths forever while simultaneously freeing them from the burden of them. its giving oedipal greek tragedy of attempting to outrun your fate and it finding you anyway, just when you thought you were finally making your own choice, but with a hopeful and bittersweet spin."

this is what i mean when i say they have achieved CHIM, as "a state of being which allows for escape from all known laws and limitations" (x) the laws and limitations from which they have escaped are not the confines of a video game, but rather the confines of the mortal roles that they were both thrust into against their wills and stole everything from them, as the herald of andraste and the dread wolf. for solas, i think you can even extend this to him being able to escape the literal physical confines of the body he did not want by returning to 'heaven' (the fade), a place of mutability and possibility, without the laws and limitations of the physical world. for lavellan, we see her make a choice to pursue her own happy ending, regardless of what the world needs (though there is an argument for this being the best decision for the world considering how it will help solas heal the blight, but i think the implication is that she's doing it for herself) after losing her agency, individuality, life and freedom to the role of the inquisitor. as ameridan says, "take moments of happiness where you can. the world will take the rest." and she does. she ascends past the bounds of the physical world, the title of inquisitor, the world that took so much from her, and finds her happiness in transcending those limitations and literally fucking off to heaven. its so great.

so when i refer to lavellan as andraste or solas as the maker, it is in this context that i mean it. i dont actually think lavellan is literally andraste reborn or something, or that solas was literally the maker. i think the maker was probably slightly inspired by solas's deeds like the creation of the veil and black city, but theres plenty in the chant of light that also does not fit him or the two of them at all. dragon age has very intentionally not disproved or proved the existence of the maker, and i think that is a good choice and its far more interesting that way. solas is already responsible for like half of the problems in thedas, connecting EVERYTHING back to him is a bit lazy in my opinion. i think the idea that the concept of a creator borne out of a bunch of different myths across time is far more compelling. so i dont think they are 1:1 the same or a reincarnation or anything, and thats why the concept of mantling works so well in this context.

solas is not the maker, but he has functionally become the maker by walking the narrative path of his own story. lavellan is not andraste, but she has functionally become andraste through walking the path of her own story. its about a sort of narrative and mythological apotheosis, where the world sees you one way to the point that you become that way. it works perfectly in the context of dragon age's focus on storytelling, propaganda, and how belief creates reality.

these two are bound to a sort of narrative inevitability in a way that most dragon age characters are not (except perhaps morrigan. honorable mentions to hawke, varric and alistair) but i think its a large part of why they are so compelling. they are inseparable from their own stories. they are bound by this sort of narrative destiny to serve both the overarching story of the dragon age games, but also the mythological stories within thedas in a way thats almost in contrast to the medium of a video game based on player choice- but i think its intentional, and i also think this sort of narrative destiny functioning as its own trap or prison is part of the reason their story is the strongest part of veilguard. from an essay on fatalism, something that solas himself ascribes to by his own admission "Destiny is not so much a necessary outcome as it is an outcome that is necessary given some larger sense of purpose” (x).

in conclusion: ✓ re-enacting the mythic patterns of andraste and the maker's story via their roles in the world and their decisions, such as leading the armies of the faithful as andraste's did, or shaping the world the way it exists presently and creating the veil and the black city as the maker did ✓ become metaphysically synonymous, via becoming virtually indistinguishable in terms of their role in the world ✓ take their office - by finally reuniting within the black city ✓ reshape it for themselves - by healing the blight and making it golden

:D

[arceus-insanity]

Endeavor Deserves No Sympathy!

I don't understand how anyone can think Endeavor was ever a good dad. It also always comes off as incredibly victim blamie, especially towards Touya, and often Shoto too.

He literally only got married and had kids to use them. He never gave a shit about their well being, never even thought about it until he had the one thing he cared about and was still miserable. I've already gone over the math proving he gave up on achieving his dream himself at 21 at the absolute latest. (https://www.tumblr.com/arceus-insanity/763259515356512256/i-liked-endeavors-character-when-he-was?source=share)

And basic math will once again be used to prove just how little this waste of flesh actually tries.

This time the focus is on how quickly he abandoned Touya and immediately went to emotional abuse via neglect & literally replacing him, and once again risking that more children be born with self-destructive quirks.

For context we only see Endeavor doing anything with his kids that's not him literally walking through and ignoring them in two circumstances. Once when Fuyumi's a newborn and Touya is attempting to crawl (not walk) over to her. And training. Those are the only times he tries to spend with any of them, even after he starts his 'atonement'

Now comparing Touya in the scene of them training and himself as a toddler and all the child imagery this series loves to use instead of actually saving imperfect victims, Touya is at least 3 (probably closer to 4) when he's taken to the doctor and they are informed of his condition

Natsuo is 4 and a half years younger than him.

We know for a fact Natsuo (& Shoto) was conceived after they got the news, not willingly either. Pregnancy takes 40 weeks average, so Touya would still be 3 when Natsuo was conceived. So once again it took this 'man' less than a year to give up and have another child he hoped to use as a tool, and was explicitly making to hurt his existing son. And as I have said plenty of times before, risking that the new kids could be born with the same disorder, I hate how convenient it is that Shoto gets near zero negative quirk side effects.

Want to know what we never see, Endeavor doing something else with Touya and Touya demanding training, it's always him walking past/ away from Touya. Considering all of the shit they've pulled to soften Endeavor's abuse both in the manga and even more so in the anime, they wouldn't skip something like this. It's not hard to tell that Touya's 'obsession with training' is really about spending time with his dad, you know like a human child that literally needs love, proven by numerous studies and research in the real world.

He throws all parenting responsibilities onto Rei, adds more children to that load, and when Touya suffers for it (like everyone else) he does nothing, doesn't even hire a nanny

Another are you kidding me take I've seen is that somehow Touya's quirk issues are worse than Midoriya's and Yuga's. Touya managed to train his quirk to produce blue fire at 13 with zero equipment and less than no help, and only lost control of it, because of the mental abuse Endeavor had inflicted on him leading him to a mental breakdown. And/ or the theory I've only seen once of AFO using his ability to force quirk activation (seen with a passed out chapter 90 during his first confrontation with All Might)

Midoriya was breaking his bones all the way into the Shie Hassaikai arc and was only able to fight because Eri and was breaking support equipment in the following arc as well. Yuga had a support belt all the way back in the entrance exam and was still struggling with that.

Speaking of Yuga let's compare parental effort here, because as much as it backfired Yuga's parents tried a whole lot more. For starters they nearly bankrupted themselves to get him a quirk, so he could feel equal. All For One is a mythic man prior to his arrest, and those who knew of him were shown to be serious long-term villain groups, so they had gone to quite a bit of effort to find that he existed to begin with. They also got him support gear (the navel belt thing) as a kid to help him with said quirk, he literally had it in the entrance exam. Endeavor never looked into that, Endeavor is not only rich too but he's a top hero he would have direct access to support equipment companies that would jump at the opportunity and it never even occurred to him.

Endeavor's name is an irony as endeavour means to try hard to do or achieve something. He never tries hard he gives up incredibly quickly the second there's any road block, but instead of moving on he makes everyone suffer for it. He's a toxic pageant mom who'd rather force their child into a toxic world and a role they don't want than work on himself

And what finally makes him change? Getting exactly what he wanted and still being miserable, and he still expects through his actions his family to cater to him.

Not his son getting a major disability due to his actions, no, he decided to double down, mentally abusing and neglecting the son he supposedly loves, raping his wife who didn't want more kids or participate in this abuse, and again risking that Natsuo & later Shoto might have that same issue. Not when his wife breaks down and permanently scars his precious masterpiece, who proceeds to rightfully blame him, and he just thinks of it as a tantrum despite it lasting a fucking decade. Not when his eldest literally dies as the result of his selfishness. Not literally during any part of this entire process!

Dabi is 23 when Endeavor finally starts to 'try' to be better, that means that for at least 24 years he has only been caring about his fucking precious number one spot in a popularity contest that he couldn't even bother to try to be likeable for, this wasn't one bad decision, this was him constantly choosing to be so insanely selfish that he found ways that shouldn't even be possible for over two decades. And it was all him.

[needanaccount2readarcaneposts]

genuinely lie awake at night thinking about how it would have been so much more interesting if:

we'd gotten a scene of sevika twisting jayce's arm and demanding concessions for zaun. "okay, so we shouldn't just make a deal with ambessa and let her wipe you out, and should believe you that this is a world-ending threat, because you claim you... went to another dimension??? what are you offering zaun, right now, to make it worth zaunites laying down their lives for you? on paper, signed and witnessed, thanks."

AND

if the resulting zaunite forces had shown up ready to fight with chemtech weapons and shimmer. SHIMMER. like the entire reason shimmer was developed in the first place was as a weapon to oust an invading force - piltover's enforcers - from zaun. imagine bringing that full circle in the narrative? instead of just giving shimmer to the noxians because Shimmer Bad™. all those things that the topsiders looked down on as crude, barbaric, degenerate, dangerous? now they have those things to thank for saving their asses. imagine???

i hate this season so much lmao

has anyone mentioned yet how in the last war they made the people of Zaun wear enforcers uniforms?

anyone??? cause I'm going nuts over this. having the oppressed die in the clothes of the people that oppress them

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 4

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7])

agatha once again protecting billy with her whole body.

"I didn't think it was real! I thought it was me, that it's my fault that I can't keep a job, that everything I touch turns to shit! That I couldn't save her!"

The poison drips through (yes I love Succession). Generational curse, generational trauma. The pain of who knows how many centuries of parents and grandparents and great-grandparents times a thousand. It's like a boulder that you're carrying around on your shoulders, and you can't see it and you can't put a name to it, how could you? How can you possibly know why your mother drank herself stupid, why your grandmother abused her children? You were born yesterday and drank all that poison without knowing what it was, you let it take it over and you walk around spreading it to the world.

And amidst all the pain, alice only ever chose to blame and hurt herself and she was always gentle to others. her biggest regret is not having been able to save her mom! you know why alice never turned into a villain like agatha? because her mom loved her. as simple and as that. lorna was so ill-equipped to save alice, she didn't know what she was up against, she was in a world of pain herself. and she went above and beyond to show her child how infinitely precious and loved she was.

oh wow, I usually say I'm crying as a figure of speech, but I am crying for real thinking about this.

lilia who has lived so long and experienced her big share of suffering, knowing all too well what alice is going through. there's so much compassion in her voice

jen stubbornly refusing to care about anything but her own pain, which is actually a very human way to respond to trauma? it's like she's at a crossroads and it's up to her to choose whether she goes back to being the force of good she used to be, or whether she goes down agatha's same path. I say it's up to her because it ultimately is, but she was so lucky finding this coven and community at such a crucial moment. agatha didn't have any of it.

no! don't apologize, you beautiful, generous soul! the sense of guilt and inferiority complex is real

agatha's face when billy is attacked

she starts running toward him even before alice

but when she gets there she freezes and lets alice go check on him

when she sees he's fine, she sighs and collapses against the door, clutching her chest.

lilia is really starting to get attached to everyone, and throughout her life love and loss have always been inherently linked. she already knows she's going to lose them.

okay jen refusing to leave the circle is still funny, I'll give her that

through all this rio has been watching and studying agatha, she always does. she knows that her diabolically smart wife loves to be in charge and come up with plans. she's being encouraging!

look at how small alice is! she's been helping and consoling billy just a moment ago, despite being miserable herself.

first of all, that's hilarious, so jot that down. second of all, you know agatha is so relieved she has to put on a show instead of doing something icky like, idk, sitting in a circle and talking about their feelings. and look at rio at the drums, she's already put all the clues together as well

oooh, she's doing the thing! she's detectiving! agatha harkness ladies and gentlemen, her hobbies are women, murder and puzzles.

and who gives her the solution? who has had millennia to study and commiserate human love and grief? she says it and she looks at agatha so pointedly.

The song that's so irrevocably linked to Nicky's memory, the song that she's been desecrating and using as a means to kill. A mother took it and poured all her love into it and made it pure again. Agatha has to live with that now, and you know that's going to take root inside her and affect her no matter what

this whole performance is patti going I might be singing backup again but watch me be a total diva about it

I LOVE YOU PATTI LUPONE

you'd think that alice should sing lead vocals here, seeing as it's her trial and her mom's song and all. WELL THINK AGAIN

the massive ego agatha has, honestly. you gotta respect that.

the feeling when you are the only normal person in a group of total hooligans. did I already say how gorgeous sasheer looks in that outfit? no I didn't. you are an apparition, sasheer.

but I want the song to have its own separate entry so hold on tight, brb

go to episode 4 part 5

[dira333]

Mom Friend - Kenma - pt 2

The room is vibrating with quiet conversations and the anticipation only a good game can bring.

Below, Hinata’s warming up. He knows exactly where you’re sitting and he waves excitedly before moving on in the line-up.

“Hey, you’re here already.” Kuroo smiles when he squeezes through, pulling you into a hug.

Behind him, Kenma comes shuffling in. You move to hug him, like you always do when you’re meeting in a group, though you barely touch this time. It’s a fake-out more than anything else.

“Have you been here long?”

“Hinata needed a ride,” you shrug your shoulders. “I had the car this weekend, so it wasn’t a problem.”

Kuroo whistles a mismatched tune. “Do you think they’re going to win?”

“Oh, for sure,” you smile up at him. “Like how can they not?”

You know you’re not the most knowledgeable when it comes to Volleyball. Most games one of the boys ends up explaining a play to you, but no one ever seemed to mind.

Today, though, you mind.

You know Kenma hasn’t told Hinata about that night, because Hinata’s the worlds worst liar. You’d be able to tell if he knew.

Kuroo, however, is an amazing liar. If he knows, and you suspect he does, he isn’t letting it slip.

His kindness feels forced to you now. Is he pitying you? 

“Did you get that?” He asks half an hour later when the referee waves his hands in a way you haven’t seen before.

The “no” is on the tip of your tongue but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

“You don’t have to explain it,” you say instead, the words a little more biting than they should be. “It’s fine.”

Kuroo startles and behind him, you can see the concern in Kenma’s face. 

You can’t stand it anymore, being this close to him, and get up.

“I need to use the toilet,” you rush out. “Lady problems.”

The line is short. 

But you sit on the cold toilet seat for fifteen minutes, scrolling through Tiktok until your heartbeat settles and you feel ready to go back out again.

You’ll have to apologize to Kuroo in some way if you want to save this friendship.

Though is there a way to save it? Should you, even? 

-

“Did you see my spike?” Hinata asks later, hair damp from the game, towel slung around his neck. “Did you?”

You’re not sure which one he means, but you nod and you fawn over him like you usually do. 

But then he’s gone, gone for a quick shower, and you’re left to wait around.

“You good?” Kuroo asks and you can feel your spine stiffen, from the top all the way down to the bottom.

“Yes,” you tell him, though your eyes stay on the floor. A quick check, Kenma’s shoes are nowhere to be seen. At least he’s not here to witness this. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t want your pity.”

Kuroo quiets. He’s usually someone who moves a lot, squiggles his foot, or taps his thigh, but he’s motionless right now, at least the lower part of him that you can see. Nothing is going to make you lift your eyes up. You don’t want to see his face.

“Did something happen last week?”

You hesitate.

“Nothing happened.”

“Are you sure? Kenma said you watched the movie and went out for dinner after like we usually do. He said you didn’t talk much, that it was quiet, but if it’s something about Kenma-”

“Why does it have to be about Kenma?” You lift your eyes now, want to see his face. He looks concerned. Too soft. 

He reminds you of yourself. How did Kenma call it? Bothering people. 

“Maybe it was something at work. Or it’s because I’m on my period. Or I’m just having a bad day. Maybe some creep tried to hit on me and I’m weirded out by that. Why do you automatically assume that it’s about Kenma?”

Kuroo’s quiet for a moment. “You usually react differently to Kenma being around.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug. “Things change.”

He looks pained but he doesn’t pry anymore. You can’t help but think that he’ll ask Kenma about it later. That Kenma will tell him the truth, eventually, because they’ve been friends longer than anyone you know. 

You force yourself to smile. This might be the last time you see Kuroo in a while.

“I’m just being weird,” you promise him. “A girl has to be weird sometimes.”

“Okay,” he nods and you stay there, silent, until Hinata comes back.

- - -

“Hey.”

You look up from your desk. Kuroo’s standing in the doorway, shirt pushed up to the elbows, his hair defying gravity as usual. It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen him. 

Work has kept you busy. You’ve got other friends too, though Hinata has been pretty good at calling you up.

“Hey,” you hesitate for a second. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I was in the area and remembered you work here. Do you wanna get lunch together?”

You hesitate. 

“Just checking in on you,” Kuroo promises. “Don’t be a stranger?”

You sigh. “Fine.” 

-

“Kenma hasn’t told me anything, by the way,” Kuroo tells you as he separates his chopsticks. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Why would I be worried about that?”

He chuckles. “You’re pretty good at deflecting, has anyone told you that before?”

“And you’re a mother-hen, has anyone told you that before?”

“Yeah,” he stuffs an egg roll into his mouth and nods. 

“How do you deal with that?” You ask, pushing the rice around your bowl for a moment before taking a bite. 

Kuroo shrugs. “I like being this way. If I step on somebody’s toes, I apologize of course, and try to stay clear of that, but in the end… it’s who I want to be, so why change?”

You consider that, but it’s not that easy. 

Nothing really ever is when there are feelings involved.

“We’re having a movie night next weekend,” Kuroo adds gently when your bowl is almost empty. “I’m formally inviting you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I want to. I like having you around. We,” he corrects himself with a grin. “Like having you around.”

“Who’s we?”

“Bokuto, of course, and where’s Bokuto there’s Akaashi. Atsumu invited himself and he’s bringing Osamu, so there’s food involved. I think Hinata managed to rope Sakusa in, but that’s always a little debatable.” He stops. “I just realized they’re all just guys, so I’m counting on you to invite a few girls.”

“Are you using me to find your friends some girlfriends?”

“Why, is it working?”

- - -

It’s no surprise that Kenma’s not showing up to movie night. He’s not a big fan of crowds, you know, and there’s always a crowd when Atsumu is concerned.

It’s a good thing you end up going because you end up setting Emi up with Osamu - completely on accident - and as Hinata figures out he’s allergic to some weird European drink you’re the only one with antihistamine pills in your possession.

-

“Do you always come this prepared?” Sakusa asks, hiding out in the kitchen where it’s calmest. 

“I guess,” you reply, preparing yourself for another sting.

“I like that,” Sakusa hums. “Do you have hand sanitizer?”

“Sure,” you pull it out of your purse. “Scented or unscented?”

“Unscented please.” He offers his palm and thanks you quietly when you squeeze out the liquid. 

“You can call me Kiyoomi,” he adds after a moment of silence. “Just don’t tell Miya.”

You smile. “This is what being knighted must feel like.”

Kiyoomi taps your forehead. “Don’t get too cocky or I’ll revoke your rights.”

-

“Are you coming to the cinema this weekend?” Hinata asks after a game, eyelids already fluttering with exhaustion. “It’s that one movie you said you wanted to watch.”

“Sure,” you tell him, ushering him forward, waving at Kiyoomi whose car’s a little further down in the parking lot. “Who did you invite?”

“Everyone,” Hinata yawns. “Can you drive? Key is in my-”

“Wallet, I know.” You pull it out of the bag he’s carrying. “If you invited everyone, surely you wouldn’t miss me.”

Hinata furrows his brows. “That’s not true.”

It’s sweet, but you wonder about it sometimes still. 

It’s the age-old question, isn’t it? Do you like me because you need me or do you need me because you like me?

You think you’ve grown, in these last few months. 

You like the way you are. Not the smartest and not the dumbest. Over-prepared and over-caring. 

But you’ve also recognized that you’re a friend and not a mother.

That you want a partner, not a child. 

“I’m good,” you tell Hinata when you reach his apartment complex. “But thanks for inviting me. Maybe next time.”

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Mom Friend - Kenma pt one two three

[lumiidragon]

What was it about THW that made Toothless a flop for you?

I've tossed all sorts of stuff around, so I feel like I'd really be repeating those posts, so I'll just sum it up for simplisity~

-Toothless is a dog in this movie. A horny dog. Not charming compared to the previous two movies.

-Toothless cares about nothing but the Light Fury. There's being in love, and there's being absent from the flock you're supposed to be guarding to go off on some date while your best friend is being left behind to fight the villain.

-Is Toothless an intelligent animal that understands humor, a hostage situation, high speed adaptation to human society, morality, and understanding humans almost on a human level or is he an instinct-driven animal and nothing more? We may never know because HTTYD preached the first half while THW was stuck on the latter unless plot device.

-Toothless gets this redundant super-power to go invisible for...reasons? Like, the Light Fury can't have anything original to her, Toothless MUST have it too because what originally made him unique is now absent and thus something has to be going for him, I guess.

-The dragons don't leave because they're safer in THW. Let's face it, the dragons leave because Toothless wants to be with the Light Fury and rule THW and since he's Berks' alpha, the Berkian dragons really have no say in it. The separation felt more like it was for Toothless, not all dragons.

-Toothless hardly even glances at Hiccup in this movie. His interactions with literally anything else not girlfriend material is actually at 0. Cloudjumper that Toothless just thought was the coolest new friend in HTTYD 2? Who's that? Who cares, new girlfriend.

Toothless getting a girlfriend isn't the issue. The issue is that apparently you can only have a best friend OR a girlfriend. Can't have both. I mean, just look at Hiccup. As soon as Astrid came onto the scene with that kiss after the romantic flight, Hiccup forgot about the rest of the gang for the rest of the movie and Toothless was forced to face Stoick alone until the very end where Hiccup suddenly learned how to be a warrior just a powerful as Astrid and saved the day. The pair then went their ways since Hiccup belongs on Berk where all humans true home is and Toothless can go somewhere else because one day the world will be ready for humans if you sit around and hope instead of educating others and fighting for it.

Yeah, lol, so basically for that last point, it was all about the fact that everything HTTYD stood for with Toothless being a major focal point is tossed to the side. I'm not against separation because it's for the best for all parties involved, but THW is NOT the movie that did that good and instead just made Toothless super unlikable and OOC to make it work. Want a good movie for that? (possible spoiler??) then watch The Wild Robot. Much better.

[fishmech]

In the Ender's Game short story, the original work, there is no mention at all of whether he was drafted or volunteered by his family. However we are told that he is unfamiliar with the outside world in general, that his earliest memories are of being in the military schools training at basic war games as apparently a toddler.

And against this the short story takes care to mention that most children aren't going to these schools, via the adults in the story discussing how the other kids get to hang out in the park.

for example this passage towards the middle:

Ender Wiggins was rushed from place to place so quickly he had no time to examine anything. But he did see trees for the first time. He saw men who were not in uniform. He saw women. He saw strange animals that didn't speak, but that followed docilely behind women and small children. He saw suitcases and conveyor belts and signs that said words he had never heard of. He would have asked someone what the words meant, except that purpose and authority surrounded him in the persons of four very high officers who never spoke to each other and never spoke to him. Ender Wiggins was a stranger to the world he was being trained to save. He did not remember ever leaving Battle School before. His earliest memories were of childish war games under the direction of a teacher, of meals with other boys in the gray and green uniforms of the armed forces of his world. He did not know that the gray represented the sky and the green represented the great forests of his planet. All he knew of the world was from vague references to "outside."

and really who gives a shit about what the old homophobe changed when he decided to spackle a bunch of other shit onto the short story to start a practically unrelated novel series with it as the hook? the short story is the essence of the point and in it the intentions are clear - recruiting for the military in this case starts so early that of course none of the participants made the choice knowingly. there doesn't even appear to be a way for the children who do poorly once in the military schooling to leave it, we can presume those who do poorly are simply going to be funneled into less important military roles but presuming is all we can do.

ender's unknowing victory immediately ends the purpose of the whole military program, and clearly there's going to need to be some kind of other thing to handle these children only raised for military shit being reintegrated to a civilian society, but we are very deliberately not shown this, it is outside the purpose of the story.

but also starship troopers the book takes a lot of care to say that there's a bunch of civilian citizenship service positions. this is for a very clear reason: heinlein himself had to be disabilitied out of the Navy before WWII, couldn't get back into military service for it, and so was very very proud of his civilian service to the government during WWII. and he also was way more interested in talking about the military side because he was desperate to get to go to war again in WWII but couldn't.

and that's part of why the movie version makes sure to mention the civilian path exists here, but that certain characters refused to do either method, and then jumps into the enthusiasm of following the military path, that's what the story in both forms is much more interested in!

anyone contrasted Starship Troopers (movie) with Ender's Game (movie) in the way that they both involve teenagers being drafted by a fascist state into genocidal war against aliens?

[lemon-berri]

A Side That Only You Get to See

Most people know Satoru Gojo as the strongest sorcerer. A formidable force, renowned for his power. Respected by sorcerers and feared by curses and curse users alike. To those who do not know him, he's paramount to a legend. Untouchable. Unreachable.

While the people who work closely with him know another side. The irreverent, goofy sorcerer who fools around on the job and plays pranks on his colleagues. They're all too familiar with his boisterous laugh and unconventional ways. And while his students still respect him, they're comfortable around him like they might be with a friend, or a family member.

That's who he is. A warm personality that lights up a room. Someone who cares deeply for those around him, even if his ways of showing it are unusual. Someone who wants to improve the world around him.

But nobody knows the Gojo you do.

The one who comes home in the early hours of the morning, just to rest in his partners arms. Who's sometimes late to work because he cannot bring himself to let you go. He's enraptured by your touch, lulled into peace by your scent. He's quiet at home, a stark contrast to his usual personality. But he prefers to bask in your presence, to listen to your voice as you tell him about your day, or whatever new interest you've picked up.

The sorcerer who comes home from missions a day early without telling anyone so he can steal some more time with the one he loves. Who plans elaborate surprises, cooks for you and buys you a fresh bouquet every week. He prefers a quiet night at home rather than going out. That way he gets more of your attention.

The Gojo who's easily bored, because he's naturally good at everything, but still takes part in your hobbies and interests. He lets you teach him things he already knows, and sometimes pretends to mess up just so he can see the passion in your eyes as you explain where he went wrong. His cerulean eyes light up whenever you  show him something you've created, and he'll buy you all the supplies you need, if only to see that smile.

Your Satoru, who's love language is physical touch. Who, before meeting you, had kept a barrier between himself and the rest of the world for so long that he'd become afraid to let it down. Who now clings onto you whenever you're home. He gets pouty if you're in sight but not touching him - so make sure to pay extra attention to his facial expressions.

Truly, if anyone else saw him like this he wouldn't care. He's not ashamed to show the world how much he loves you. But a part of him likes the way things are. Its like a secret, between just the two of you. As if your home exists in a world of its own, away from all the curses and higher ups and daily stress. So for now, he'll save his soft side, just for you. A side that only you get to see.

Soooooo I sorta went MIA for a few weeks.. but as we already established I do not have a post schedule so it's okay (right?).

Thank you guys for reading this! As usual it's not proofread and if you point out my spelling mistakes I'll leave and never come back.

Ily all 🩵

[shitposting-fox]

Personal head cannon: the reason Okarun gets depressed in his yokai form is due to the lingering effects of Turbo-granny and the location-bound spirit. Spoilers for the manga will be under the cut!

This is due to a few things:

1. The backstory of the tunnel, yokai, and spirit

2. "Dandadan" as a word's potential meaning (major manga spoilers at that point!)

First, the spirits. We've already seen with Momo her ability to view the past of a yokai (Arco Silky) and we know Seiko was aware of the ongoing history behind the tunnel both Turbo-granny and the location-bound spirit where in.

With a combination of the curse, it's not a far stretch that the lingering emotions from the deceased may be having a subtle effect on Okarun.

While it's not been very overt, we've seen how the origin of a yokai is important to how they act. Those who are more vengeful will be more likely to attack whereas those who are from grief may try to protect (albeit a violent way).

While Turbo-granny is in the maneki-neko and her powers are in Okarun, there's a chance that the feelings that helped form those powers may have a subconscious effect on him. Hence, the general depression but extreme protectiveness.

Spoilers from the manga below!!

We saw him literally get on all fours like a guard dog, and push his body to the breaking point repeatedly. Going with the assumption the deceased are subconsciously effecting him, it makes more sense why the protectiveness is amped up too.

Many of the girls were probably desperate for someone to save them, anyone, and that urgency could translate into the need to protect the others (especially Momo) as a result.

The second reason I have this theory is because of the potential meaning of "dandadan"!

This one is a lot more flimsy so bear with me here. While I've already wanted for manga spoilers I'm gonna mention again MAJOR SPOILERS for the manga.

Alright so! Dandadan as a word is similar to だんだん or "dandan" which often translates to "gradually".

I don't know very much about Japanese wordplay besides a few from songs (Love Ka, song based on the Japanese word for frilled shark and the English word love), so I could be completely wrong in this guess. But I feel like the word could be an original creation for implying the gradual change of an individual due to surrounding yokai and spirits

Before I get into the Shinto rambling, I'll mention the big point that got me thinking this was the effects after Okarun lost his powers. He still excelled is a lot of sport areas and, while it could be attributed to him working out consistently, there's also a possibility he has some... Influence, let's say, from a certain yokai.

We haven't seen much of him yet after all of this, so it could be very wrong, but the way it was brought up seemed to imply a greater importance than just normal athleticism.

Now for the Shinto rambling!!

To keep it pretty short: the body plays a major role in Shinto. We've seen it with the golden balls (strong life force amped up by a yokai) plus the give and take of various yokai forms (physicality for Okarun, hair treatment for Aira).

Shinto itself has the body on a pretty high importance. Most Asian religions tend to have more focus on the body, weather it be on asceticism (bodily denial) or purity

Dandadan has shown a lot of Shinto aspects already, from the existence of Yokai and Kami to the various interacts people have with the world.

Since the body is important, it's not too far a stretch to assume the continued themes of religion and the body are going to continue through the rest of the series.

While it may not be as overt as Okarun attempting to get the rest of his genitalia back, it's still likely to appear as a major plot point.

Hence, the potential implications of "dandadan"

I could be remembering wrong, but I believe at one point Count Saint Germain even asked someone if they knew the meaning of the word, which implies it may be crucial to his current purpose in the story

We already know there's a large group of aliens who want to steal the yokai and Kami abilities so they can take over Earth and colonize more planets, and many are looking into ways of stealing them.

With the introduction of Kouki and people's powers being able to be stolen from a direct injury, we can reason that the current goal is for the aliens to find a way to get more people's powers to be then transfered to themselves.

If we go under the assumption dandadan is the gradual bleeding over of powers and/or merging of aura to where it allows a human to gain more supernatural powers they wouldn't have otherwise, it makes sense that Count Saint Germain and/or the invading aliens are attempting to find a way to utilize this ability

Of course this could be completely wrong, but it's been rotating in my brain for a while. Wanted to get it out there somewhere lol

[vigilskept]

gnashing my teeth thinking about how veilguard talks about the gods only as a joke when they could've gone somewhere truly crazy.... you're so right.

Yeah... you get it. It's just such a missed opportunity!

I don't even mind the jokey tone they use a lot of the time, because we all joke about things we struggle to understand/cope with.

Except Veilguard refuses to let you even try to broach the subject beyond that surface level. In fact, when it does let you engage with it at all, it manages to make things even less nuanced!

I'm just going to talk about Bellara's quest here since it's the most directly linked with the elven gods, and it's already a lot. Fundamentally, her companion quest is asking us two things:

Should elves be blamed for the actions of the Evanuris?

Should they preserve any of their past at all?

The first one is absurd to even begin with. It's not even a good or interesting take on the (very christian!) question: "Are we responsible for the sins of our ancestors?"

The Evanuris are not the ancestors of modern elves. Dalish religion implies that modern elves descend from those who the rebels never freed from slavery to the Evanuris.

This setup is already awful without looking at any of the parallels Bioware has (intentionally) drawn between the elves of Thedas and Jewish/Indigenous people. I have to put the rest of this under the cut because I genuinely don't think it can be shortened without making it sound flippant. In the context of the coding of the elves, the theological/social implications of all of this are so much worse.

TLDR: the indigenous/jewish coding of the elves makes bioware's treatment of elven religion in veilguard thoughtless at best, cruel at worst. they did not have to write themselves into this corner. there was a way of handling this lore reveal without the implication of elven religion (again, jewish/indigenous coded) being obsolete

So, the religion of the Dalish was part of their enslavement. It's the belief they were forced into by the cruel gods they are still devoted to. That's already pretty bad. How could it get worse, you might wonder?

Whether Bioware deviated from their initial inspirations for the elves or not, the implications for these lore reveals in light of those parallels are particularly cruel. Those two core questions in Bellara's quest? Yeah. Those have both been levied against the oppressed groups that Bioware chose to draw inspiration from. Both historically and presently. To justify atrocities against them.

And to be clear, Bioware does not deviate from or subvert the usual indigeous and jewish-coding of the elves in their writing here. If anything, they end up actively endorsing a very significant element of antisemitic and anti-indigenous sentiment.

Indigenous-Coding

Advocates of colonisation have always justified it by arguing they were 'saving' groups of people who were stuck in the past. They had been ‘left in the dark’ through ignorance of Christianity. In the more secular sense, this was framed as Europeans having journeyed through history to reach enlightenment, while the rest of the world was still in an ‘uncivilized’ state.

Christianity and progress had to be brought to these people to save their souls and bring them into the future with everyone else. Their Gods? There were only two possible ways to frame those. Either they were not real at all, or they were evil. Either way, they were obsolete.

In the Americas, these arguments were still used when corralling indigenous children into residential schools or tearing them from communities through the adoption system. Governments pushed the idea that they had to be forced to assimilate because they were 'backward' in their practices and beliefs.

In the settler-colonial state Canada, where Bioware is based, it's still common enough to hear people justify all of this as having been done "for their own good." Even those who admit that the ways colonization was perpetuated were cruel will still try to defend it by telling you, "it was bad, but their ancestors weren't saints either."

Sounding painfully familiar yet? A little uncomfortable in the context of Bellara's questline?

Jewish-Coding

Since the dawn of Christian Church, Jewish people have had a very fraught place in Christian theology. Christianity claims that that the coming of the messiah in the person of Jesus Christ makes the religion of Judaism obsolete. Christians believed the obvious answer to this problem was that Jewish people should convert.

When many did not, they were labeled as ignorant, obstinate, stuck in the past. They were so focused on their history that they couldn't see the truth which had been revealed in the present. There’s a significant legacy of this idea in Christian artwork with depictions of Synagoga blindfolded next to the clear eyed Ecclesia. You still hear echoes of this sentiment in antisemitic language today.

As for the nature of the Jewish God... there is some deviation here. For some Christians, He is God the Father, and He is good. For others — and this idea has been around from early Christianity till now — He is the Creator of the material world, but He is evil.

There are innumerable variations of Christian gnosticism that probably wouldn't be productive to get into on a Dragon Age Blog. What I need to underline here though, is that the idea of the Old Testament God as the devil/the demiurge/fundamentally evil, has been used to justify atrocity towards Jewish people for over a thousand years.

Should elves be blamed then? For the sundering of the Titans? For the Veil? For the Blight? For the evils of this world, created by their Gods?

Implications for Veilguard

Not only is religion in Dragon Age: The Veilguard often devoid of nuance or ignored outright, when the game does engage with it at all, it does so in a way that quite literally draws on these incredibly harmful antisemitic and anti-indigenous sentiments that have been (and still are) used to perpetuate real harm.

To be clear, I don't think the writing here intends to endorse the idea that elves should be blamed for any of what's going on. Bellara's anxieties are being projected onto her people as a whole while she grapples with what this all means for her, I get that. In fact, you could be generous and read some of this as a critique of this particular kind of anti-indigenous/jewish bigotry.

However, I don't think that absolves the writers of any of the implications they've created by confirming that the elven pantheon did exist and was canonically evil.

Elements of Dalish/elven culture might be preserved after all this, but the conclusion the game railroads you into is that their religion is obsolete. Just like Judaism. Just like the many Indigenous religions around the world. Except in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, it’s no longer just the bigotry of outsiders claiming that to be the case. It’s now the objective truth of the setting.

Going forward, the elves of Thedas can keep their culture, but they can’t practice their religion. If they continued to practice, they would be framed the way the Venatori are: evil and stuck in the past. This really can’t be overstated: this is the exact rhetoric that has justified centuries of violence and oppression of Jewish and Indigenous people. This rhetoric is still around and still weaponized.

It’s so cruel to create an in world ‘lineage’ that draws so heavily from their cultures and histories, then validate the rhetoric that has been used to hurt them. At best, it’s thoughtless. But as a company based in a settler-colonial state, this is something they should’ve put thought into, given that they chose to code their elves and Jewish and Indigenous. That was their responsibility, actually.

What gets me about all this is that they actually didn't need to force that conclusion at all. They could have kept the Evanuris as cruel tyrants without demonising the Creators and their worship at the same time.

The Evanuris weren't always Gods. They weren't even always rulers.

In Trespasser, when asked how they became Gods, Solas tells Lavellan that they did so slowly. That it started with a war. That fear bred a desire for simplicity. For right and wrong. For chains of command. That generals became respected elders, then kings, and finally gods.

Veilguard confirms all of this. The addition it makes is that before all this, the first elves were spirits who made their bodies out of the Titans. This all occurred over the course of thousands of years.

None of this needs to be retconned in order to allow for a respectful yet nuanced portrayal of religion!

TLDR pt2: bioware, u could’ve avoided literally ALL of this by making the evanuris part of a priestly class who seized power after the war with the titans. it wouldn’t even have undermined ur lore! u could’ve kept dalish religion alive! u could’ve implied complex political dynamics for your ancient elves without even having to write it! why didn’t you even try?

Trying to Fix This Mess

Say the elves took their bodies from the Titans and settled the lands of Thedas. Say the Titans even allowed this for a time. The dwarves were made from their own bodies after all.

Yet the elves didn't have the same connection with the Titans as the dwarves did. They had no stone-sense, so they couldn't understand the Titans' song.

Generations down the line, some of them took too much from the Titans. More than they were willing to give. That was when the Titans lashed out, making the earth tremble so that all the elves had built crumbled beneath them.

And what if the firstborn among the elves had taken up priesthood to guide the younger ones. They were closer to spirits than the elves that were born into this world, and so the younger ones looked to them for guidance. Maybe they were the ones who were trusted to reach out to the more powerful of the spirits who chosen stay in the Fade, their old kin who preferred to keep their distance from the physical world to preserve the essence of what they were. The spirits of Justice, of Benevolence, of Craft. Those who the elven people paid homage to, and trusted to preserve them in turn.

So when everything seemed to fall apart, the elves turned to their Keepers, their priests, and asked of them what they ought to do. How could they make the earth stop shaking? What would they have to do to be at peace again?

Whatever the spirits themselves may have responded, many of the Keepers (among them the Evanuris) took up arms and chose war. They saw it could be won so they fought, sundering Titans from their dreams and stilling the land.

And yet there was no peace.

Some Keepers sought to hold on to their power as generals, and wanted to wage war on new shores to keep it. Some Keepers thought they had already gone too far, claiming they had acted without the guidance of the spirits who hadn't wanted war.

These Keepers could've caused chaos and endless bloodshed, so the Evanuris formed their alliance to suppress the others. Likely, they thought they were doing so for the benefit of all the elven people. More war meant more death, and it was needless now that the land was still. And even if what they did to the Titans was wrong, it was done and they could not fix it. Better to silence those who meant to stir up fear among the people.

The Evanuris fought until they were the last faction left, naming the few holdouts the Forgotten Ones. They were praised for bringing peace to Elvhenan, and trusting in their guidance their people crowned them as rulers.

Yet some dissent always remained. None of them were infallible. They were no longer spirits, they hadn't been for thousands of years. They were now more accustomed to command than to priesthood after all that war. They had drawn on the power they had stolen from the Titans to gain the advantage over their enemies, and the corruption of the Blight was starting creep in, ever-so-slowly.

Maybe some of the people, unhappy with their rule, started to voice the thought that was expressed by their rival Keepers once more: that the Evanuris had grown distant from the spirits. That Elgar'nan didn't serve Justice anymore. That Mythal had strayed from Benevolence.

So Evanuris took the mantle of godhood for themselves. It was only for peace and stability.

It would be too dangerous if anyone could claim they were deviating from the will of the spirits, so they would claim they were those great spirits. Elgar'nan was Justice, Mythal was Benevolence. They would use their rule only for the benefit of the people, not abuse their power.

And there you go. None of what I've written above can't be neatly incorporated into the existing lore of Veilguard. It leaves the elves of Thedas precisely where they started in Dragon Age: Origins. Distant from their ancient Gods, trying to pick up the pieces of their forgotten past.

[eerna]

I knew once they actually wrote ekko he would shine. Kid who grew up too fast but is still full of hope and optimism at the end of the day. Top tier writing I’m so soft for him. Also a character that can balance bettering society AND caring about his found family? We have finally encountered an arcane character capable of multitasking. Still mad they underutilized him for so long tho and gave him that ending. MY SON😭

Also what’s so funny is that before watching arc 3 is I had made a post saying that arcane is actually just high quality fanfiction (in animation. Not writing lololol) and for arc 3 to open with happy timebomb alt universe fluff made me scream. Arcane writing its own fluffy fanfiction that’s actually surprise canon compliant? More likely than you think. Also representing yearning for a better world despite the crumbling reality around you and getting up and going Fight for it via a childhood friends to enemies to lovers dynamic was galaxy brained. Timebomb 5eva!!!!!!

I AGREEEEE!!! I honestly didn't think they would ever get to Ekko, which made me sad bc he's been a standout in s1 and I was dying needing more of his dynamic with the sisters. Imagine my reaction when I started ep 7 and saw THAT illustration on the netflix logo record. I feel like he still wasn't written in a way that left me fully satisfied, but damn, he was the only thing I truly cared about the entire season lololol. I love how him being placed within the fluffy fanfic wasn't a question of whether he would get the strength to return to his own bleak reality, but what messages would he take with him to it. And the message he chose was "Being overly optimistic and loving people is the way to go". Like you said, bringing them back full force 3 episodes before the show ends to remind us of how much everyone loves each other was a galaxy brained idea. Which is why it was SO PAINFUL when ep 9 didn't really show any of it... like c'mon... I know they wanted to shock and delight us all by making Ekko and Jinx wear matching outfits and work together, but it definitely missed the same thing pretty much everything else did this season: EMOTIONAL BUILDUP. I wish the season dedicated more time to them and what they think of each other. I wish Isha didn't exist and instead was replaced with Jinx, Sevika, Vi and Ekko as the emotional backbone. This way Jinx seems like she truly doesn't care all that much, not about Ekko, not about Vi, not about herself or her own goals from the past. Why did she just fake her own death instead of going back to the people who finally love her as she is. Why did she do that. Why did Ekko get a tragic ending when he literally saved the world. Arcane writers what the hell were you thinking

[crossdressingdeath]

One thing I will say for the ending of DAV is that it's made one thing from Trespasser that always confused me a bit finally make sense: the fact that Solas spares even low approval Quiz. Like, the fact that he does that means that affection clearly doesn't come into that decision! He may be nicer about it if he likes Quiz, but he's not sparing them because he likes them. But it makes a lot more sense in the context of him making an enemy of Rook and then leaving them alive when he meets them in Minrathous, just assuming that they'll do what he wants and not get in his way and being completely blindsided by them tricking him even though they have no reason to just go along with what he says. At the end of the day Solas just... doesn't respect either Rook or Quiz enough as equals to see them as a potential threat, and that both explains him sparing Quiz and ultimately leads to his downfall.

I mean, think about it. He killed Mythal. He killed Felassan. Clearly he is not above killing even the people he loves best, the very last remnants of the world he's supposedly in this to save at that, if their survival might get in the way of his plans! You can talk about how much he cares for high approval Quiz, or even how much he loves Lavellan in a Sol@vellan (censored to keep it out of the tags) worldstate, but love demonstrably would not stop him if he determined Quiz to be a threat! He does not love them more than Mythal (he really, really doesn't love them more than he loves Mythal, Christ on a bike the amount of shit he does for Mythal and then refuses to accept her culpability for the fallout of is insane), he does not love them more than Felassan, he does not have more reason to spare them when they say they're going to stop him (whether peacefully or by force) than he did those two, but he still does even if he hates them. Now Solas doesn't like killing (he just has no concept of what counts as actual necessity or willingness to stop when he's going to kill most of Thedas), so it makes sense he wouldn't want them dead if he could avoid it, but if he saw them as a threat he would not spare Quiz where he didn't spare Mythal or Felassan. He's not going to spare a Quiz he hates who's vowing to stop him at all costs where he killed the last remnants of the world he wants to save... unless of course he doesn't think they actually can stop him.

And him not thinking they can stop him makes sense when you his response to Rook, who breaks out of a prison Solas thought was inescapable and by Solas's own admission gets further in dealing with the Evanuris than Solas ever could have himself; he still just completely dismisses them as a real threat, takes no steps to prevent them from turning on him, has no plan for if they find out what killing Elgar'nan will do, and is caught completely off-guard if they trick him with a fake dagger. He sees Rook surpass his every expectation and do better than he himself ever could have, and he still completely fails to realize that they do in fact pose a threat! I do believe that he on at least some level can grow to respect and even care for Quiz and Rook as people who exist, but he always thinks he is ultimately above them. He totally fails to see them as potential threats, and that's what ultimately leads to his downfall: if he'd preemptively killed Quiz at the end of Trespasser, or killed Rook the second Elgar'nan fell and they were no longer needed, or even just made any sort of plan for what to do if either or both of them were in fact the threats they made it clear they intended to be he might very well have won! But his unbridled arrogance and refusal to accept that a mortal could ever outdo the Dread Wolf ultimately gets him locked in the Fade (including the ending where he goes willingly, which only happens because Rook faces down yet another god to make it work). It's a very fitting end for someone who muses about the parallels between him and Elgar'nan and him and Rook and fails to consider what it might mean for him when Rook fully steps into his place in the narrative.