#he just consciously chooses to be different and to take different paths

[osaumu]

there's such a huge debate on whether or not dazai is a good person and the only right answer is: he's not. dazai holds a record of 138 counts of conspiracy to murder, 312 counts of extortion, and 625 counts of assorted fraud, amongst other assorted crimes that he isn't listed for. he will sacrifice whomever necessary to get what he wants. he's prone to violence, takes pleasure in the pain of others he doesn't care for, was the port mafia's last resort if a captive/hostage wouldn't provide the information they wanted (kouyou was terrified of him in this regard, mori knew that it within the line of succession one day dazai would take him out to sit in his seat + he hoped for this in the way he shaped him). dazai is not a good person, and if he had stayed within the port mafia's ranks he would have only ruined himself further where "good" is concerned, but the argument is made that within the ada he makes good choices, and if not good they are better choices, but they're conscious choices, not the ones that come most naturally to him. out of a kept promise, out of a need for direction that oda gave him in telling dazai to "be the person that helps people".

[shuenkio]

𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀 𝘿𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙆 /🍷 [REQUEST]

Paring: Down!bad!jay x male!reader

Cw: needy sex, cum filled, drunk sex, rough, friends to lover sex, obsession etc.

Genre: SMUT 18+

Summary: He has been waiting for this moment with you on this heat bed.

Read at your own risk.

Nonchalant y/n ಠ⁠∀⁠ಠ

Jay was a musician whose passion lay in guitars. He loved collecting various types of guitars that caught his eye, disregarding the cost entirely. When he purchased a new guitar, he didn't bother looking at the price tag.

As a dedicated cashier at the bustling instrument store, you frequently encounter Jay during his daily visits. His ardent love for guitars keeps him returning to your establishment time and again. However, it's not merely his passion for music that brings him back - there's an underlying bond between both of you that compels him to visit regularly.

Your initial meeting took place when Jay struggled to choose a guitar. You assisted him, making eye contact and smiling encouragingly. That moment sparked something between them - an immediate attraction neither of us anticipated. Your friendship grew stronger, leading to the exchange of phone numbers and weekend plans. They enjoyed each other's company both inside and outside the store, fostering a deeper bond.

As his love for you swelled, it became increasingly difficult to contain. His attachment to you grew stronger with each passing day, especially whenever you interacted with other men. Seeing them close to you sent waves of jealousy coursing through him. Afraid of losing you he decided to hold back his feelings, hoping for the perfect chance to reveal his true feeling.

Weekend approaching, you and Jay went to hang out at the Bar today, which is different from before.

While Jay stepped away to use the restroom, you found myself seated at the counter, feeling slightly vulnerable. Suddenly, a seemingly inebriated man sidled up next to you, attempting small talk. His advances were clear, and despite your attempts to maintain distance, he leaned in closely. His hands blocked your path as he tried to pull you towards him for a kiss. Panicking, I struggled to push him away, but his unsteady state rendered him almost jelly-like, threatening to collapse onto me.

Right when I was struggling against the aggressive man, Jay emerged from the restroom. Without hesitate, he throw a punch the man, who fell to the ground groaning before finally fainting. Relieved but still shaken, Jay checked on you touching your shoulders gently. When you assured him you're fine, Jay chose to end our night early. After settling the bill, he walked you to his car. Before entering, you hurriedly drank what remained of your beverage and let Jay guide you inside.

During our drive back, you suddenly feels a surge wave of heat. Even though the car's AC was running, it didn't seem to affect you. You thought maybe the drink was upsetting your stomach. But as he pulled up to your place, the heat kept rising, making you sweat uncontrollable all over. Seeing your struggle, Jay's brows furrowed with concern as he guided you inside your apartment. His worry added to your own confusion about this sudden and intense bout of heat.

Once inside your bedroom, Jay carefully removed your shoes and socks. His face mirrored yours - puzzled by this sudden, inexplicable heat coursing through your veins. He sat beside you on the bed, contemplating the situation. Suddenly, it dawned on him – maybe someone had slipped something into your drink.

"I'm s—oo i feel Too hot, Jay!" You gasped, clutching at the sheets beneath you.

"I feel so... H-hot i just want to-"

Your consciousness bye bye from my physical self, taking complete control as you struggled against the boil heat. Ignoring modesty, you frantically stripped off your clothes until only your boxers remained. As you went to discard them too, Jay's hand cut in, stopping you in mid-action. His touch was both comforting and alarming in this surreal scenario.

"You sure you wanna do this- M/n?" He asked, patiently waiting for your response.

"I want to .... Feel nghh You" Jay's ear twitching, hearing your magic words feel like he just won a lottery. Without misunderstood He want to make sure he get your consent of doing this so he asked you one more time.

"Say it again m/n, do you want me to help you?"

"I want you to feel me JAY, I need you to take this hotness away~ mm" Your hand roaming twirling around your own body, the medicine started to act up again, but now it's even worse.

His eyes turned dark, filled with a hunger that was both thrilling and disturbing. he licking on his dry lip slightly, eager with a desire craving.

"I've been waiting for this m/n, you'll never get it" his belt was flying across the room. Unbutton his top, while he's stripped down his fabric in a fleet motion. Exposed his stretch-long balls, with his length bouncing, hit on his abdomen, twitching non stop.

He waste no time, before pull your boxer down reveal your hard dick, affected by the medicine in your drink back in the bar.

"Y~oUr so Big JaY put It in mE!i waNt to feel it" Your chest heaving, begging for his meat inside you, you're so bold which turn him on even more.

No further do, Jay push his cock inside your tight hole without any warning. Both feeling mix with pain and pleasure as Jay buried his length inside you. Once he's fully all in, Jay began to roll his hip against you, as his thighs pressed against you in every slam thrusting, making wet noises echo loudly in your bedroom. His grinding let your gasp escape your mouth, with Your vocalisation spurred him on, driving him to fuck harder.

Jay's thrust grow harder in every powerful slam, he lowered himself down to capture your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, swirling his tongue all over your inside. You return back his gesture, lost in the world of desire, message each other tongue together, taste the sticky saliva.

"Mmm oh-Ah argg your fucking shit is just perfectly fit my cock, M/N "

Jay roll his eyes to the back of his brain, melt under your tight entrance clenching his cock so well, each hip rolling one pushing both of you closer to the edge.

Dipping your nails on the skin of his back, leaving a fade red scratches on him, as the sensation continue drive you fucking good.

The bed creaked under their writhing bodies as, in unison. He tugging on your earlobes with his teeth before lift you up, Take both of your legs, hooking around his waist, carry on with the pace in a max speed. Your vision fading to black, is this how it feel like when they said you'll be see the stars in this heat bed?

Fire pooling low in Jay's abdomen, matching the orgasms that built inside your epididymis, where your cums store.

"S—SHIT it's coming I'm gonna filling you with my child M/N"

With a roar both of you reach the climax, shooting your semen on your own skin, before Jay blew his load inside your oral, filling you full with his hot seed. Your body shivered and trembled, collapsing on his chest, exhausted from the lustful encounter, not to mention that you're a virgin but not anymore.

Jay take a moment to catch his breath. As he settle you down back on the bed gently and laying down beside you, then he's grabbing you by your waist moving you closer to him skin-to-skin, still exposed, Hugging you tight in his warm embrace.

"This is the best day of my life M/N, there's will be a change between us tomorrow, i love you" He then pressed a kiss on your forehead. Closing his eyes, dozing off to the wonderland with you.

The flame inside your body's faded after an unforgettable night with him.

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ lack of perfect words, my apologies ~

🗣️ crd to all over pics&dividers .

[balkanradfem]

Whimsical adventures with my Nepali roommate

So one day I come home from work, get into the bathroom, and realize while I'm in there that I'm being called, and that someone is at the door. I get out to find my roommate talking at tge door to a guy I've never seen before, and they're both smiling. I ask her if that's her friend, and he clarifies that no, he's here to promote Hare Krishna. I immediately put my guard up; I'm not about to be dragged into another religion, but she's smiling at him, taking books from him, he's explaining to her that she needs those books and they are 'a path towards her', meanwhile when he offers them to me, I politely say 'I'm not interested', and try to move on with my day.

They're still chatting at the door, and she tries to take one of the book and go, but he stops her, asking for a donation, but in a very evasive language, which she didn't understand. I then interjected to explain to her that the books aren't actually free, even though he's handing them around as if they were; she'd have to give some money to him, but she can decide how much. When she realized what I was saying, she immediately turned to him and said 'I don't have any money', to which he decided to try me, and started asking me if I could lend her, saying I needed this book too. I said no thank you, I have it all figured out. He asked if I was joking, in disbelief. I didn't comment, and then he asked me directly 'What's the meaning of life? What is the purpose of being alive?' and I replied 'Each of us gets to choose our own', and he did not like that answer, and immediately attacked it with 'but that's an illusion', and I already had enough of this guy so I told him to not waste his time and sent him on his merry way. I find it rude that anyone would doubt I understand the meaning of life; I've spent years figuring it out!

My roommate was emabarassed for not figuring out that the guy was selling religion, but I reassured her it's alright, she just moved in here, she couldn't have known that people are fake-selling books around the place. I later looked into Hare Krishna, because they've been around a lot recently, and found their religion is a hinduist one, connected to reincarnation and featuring 'levels of consciousness', but reading on it turns out they believe in one guy who is the holy person and beginning of all life, and I understood it was just another sexist scam religion like all the rest, stealing credit from female creators.

Few days later, roommate called me up to come to kitchen, and proposed she'll make lunch for both of us. I had already eaten, but I didn't want to refuse such a great invitation, so I replied yes and was excited to try some of her food! She had a pressure-cooker which made a lot of hissing noises and scared me, and she used some cooking techniques I've never seen before.

She made a soup by putting red lentils into water, adding spices, adding salt, and then she put the entire thing to pressure cook. Then, she minced some garlic, put some oil in the pan, and sauteed the garlic. When it started smelling delicious, she grabbed half of the oil and all of the garlic, and added it into the soup! I knew it was possible to infuse oil with garlic like that, but had never made a soup in that order; it was a delicious soup. Then she added some mushrooms and tomatoes into the pan that still had garlic-infused oil in it, and made a sauce to eat with the rice.

When we got to eat, I asked her which utensils she likes to use, unsure if Nepali people used chopsticks at all, (which I own and love to use like a little weaboo) and she replied none, she eats with fingers! I laughed because that sounds so freeing and fun and she indeed, ate the entire lunch with her fingers; I've never seen that! So tempting to try, but I also love utensils and not having to wash my hands after lunch. Her food was great; it was so different and yet delicious, tasted like nothing I've ever eaten before.

Since my roommate is so nice I haven't been that much on guard about hiding how mentally ill I am, and she picked up that I'm overly tired and have awful blood pressure, because I collapsed in the corridor when she called me up to help her with something. She was immediately on this, suggesting I need to go to the doctor, and I tried to explain it's just blood pressure. But now she's looking at me suspiciously all the time. Today she offered to get me medicine when she noticed I'm lightheaded, and then suggested that I don't drink enough water 'All you drink is tea!' and I insisted that tea is water, while also sitting down so I don't fall again. She then ran off and brought me a handful of walnuts and hazelnuts and told me to eat those. She also left me some soup in the fridge.

Feeling embarassed with myself now; I should be having things figured out and offering her medicine and food, and instead she's appointed herself a doctor and a pharmaceut to me. She also brought me a few mandarines the other day and I said I'd make lunch for her tomorrow. I'm not used to roommates being that nice! I would usually get dirty looks for being a mess.

On the other note I have no idea what to do for lunch; I have some green lentils and dry peas and carrots and potatoes so maybe a soup? Her meal was so good I am certain to look bad next to her but, I can handle that, I can be the worse cook, it will make her more confident and that's like a win for everyone.

[smile-files]

i almost forgot i was right in the middle of the ii3 finale???? more analysis with context from ii16. this is a long one!!

how springy talks about spring-bot like an itty bitty baby is reminiscent of how cobs infantilizes mephone and how bot themselves is also kind of infantilized... there's a point here about how having consciously created someone makes them feel like less of a person and more of an object in relation to you, with less human agency. you're the parent, and they're your child. the dual definition of "child" as both offspring and youth really plays a part here. even if your creation is mature, they'll always be a child to you, if you know what i mean.

interestingly, springy singles spring-bot out from the other spring-toys. as we know now, there is something more "real" about bot than the other contestants in that they weren't created by mephone, in that they are consciously aware of their creation and purpose and can thus choose their own path in that context. springy has fixated on bot ever since they first interacted; does springy somehow know they're the one exception?

and speaking of exceptions, bot is one of the only two nonbinary characters on the show, and given how they only came out as such right when the only other one was eliminated (paintbrush), they went on to feel really alone in that for a while; this is tied into the symbol that is bot being, well, a robot, which they are also alone in. bot had a whole speech to n/a about how both of them are "the only one of their kind" in a sense, and how there should be more of them, but for now they can find solace in the other people who'll support them anyway.

but springy is artificially making more of bot's kind, more robots artificially aware of being robots, more symbolically queer people. springy is terribly misunderstanding what makes bot special: they weren't programmed to be nonbinary, or programmed to be self-aware, or programmed to behave like someone aware of the fact that they were programmed... no, that's something bot did themselves. bot could've chosen to live forever under the guise of bow, under the guise of their "purpose"; but who bot is as a person, everything springy fixates on and fetishizes and wants to recreate, is everything bot wasn't created to be.

"i wish this was a mask!" ...bot realized they were being forced to wear the "mask" of bow, being forced to fulfill a "purpose", and was able to choose who they were because of that realization. but springy is denying that his purpose is any different from who he is: it isn't a mask he puts on. according to him, springy is indistinguishable from his purpose. springy idolizes bot's self-discovery, but doesn't believe in the agency behind it - and so springy wants to artificially recreate it without any agency involved...

...but in trying to do so, springy is undermining that self-discovery entirely. they clearly desire the ability to defy purpose, but they simultaneously submit to it, and thereby see purpose as a worthy means to an end: just as test tube and fan imposed the purpose of "being bow" on bot, springy is imposing the purpose of "being bot" on spring-bot.

springy is still caught up in the idea of "purpose", even if he thinks that idea is bad, something especially apparent when he begs for approval of having fulfilled his purpose of being helpful and making others smile.

springy, following their interaction with cabby about spring-bot, realizes they can be more than just their purpose; however, as the spring-toys were made while springy was still following his original purpose, and were thus made to take down mephone, they still obey walkie talkie in doing so.

in this episode, walkie talkie and springy talk a lot about their own "purpose", what they were "built" to do. there are a lot of implications that these two were also created by mephone, though definitely not consciously; they're more so projections of some of his inner desires, like having the show continue indefinitely or having it be lucrative (and treating the contestants like "toys" in a sense).

springy takes pride in being more than just his purpose; walkie talkie, meanwhile, takes pride in still having her purpose and still fulfilling it.

as walkie is antagonistic toward mephone, he immediately assumes she's working for steve cobs -- which is strikingly similar to his accusation of toilet working for cobs. toilet wasn't antagonistic, no, but he was incredibly annoying to mephone; and we know from the ii14 ending scene, and with the current context, that toilet was made by mephone (as he was attacked by mephone x and presumably deleted). walkie, too, was made by mephone; we get this thru-line here of mephone despising people who bother him, people who are really extensions of himself... people who want to defy what they were made for, but have difficulty doing that...

really, we don't know how much mephone knows now; he knows that, to some extent, these people's purposes revolve around him, but i'm not sure if he'd be fully clued into the fact that he made them. in any event, this is all a troubling revelation to him.

weirdly, while the other spring-toys deactivate when walkie talkie is turned off, the toy version of bot doesn't. well, given how spring-bot was programmed to defy programming, one would expect that it wouldn't "obey" being stopped. it's funny: effectively, spring-bot is more obedient to purpose/programming than the other spring-toys, because of its unnuanced defiance.

who is springy saying this to? spring-bot... or himself? he's sacrificing himself to save mephone, truly defying his purpose of being self-serving; he's ultimately choosing who he wants to be. we don't see spring-bot for the rest of the episode, so it's unclear what happens with it.

interestingly, though springy was created by mephone, mephone had to make a melife icon for them: springy didn't automatically have one. perhaps mephone technically has the capacity to regenerate anyone he creates, but he only naturally has the option to do so for his contestants? cuz reasonably, they'd be the ones dying over and over in his challenges?

at the same time, though, didn't dough turn into a ghost because he died before mephone created a melife icon for him? my theory is the following: if a person mephone creates dies before having a melife icon, mephone has a short window of time to create their icon and regenerate them before it's too late, at which point they'd die permanently and turn into a ghost.

balloon seems surprised that mephone's able to recover a non-contestant; as it is, now that mephone knows he can do so (on account of what walkie said), he does do so.

mephone comparing himself to cobs!! his seasons as his creations!!! something something that cool "we both reached for the gun" ii amv. you know.

i love how ambiguous his wording is here. "responsible [...] for these guys" could mean anything from mephone being in charge of their safety and happiness to being the reason they exist. and he's saying he's "responsible" for more than just his contestants, and that he "can help them, too"; does "them" refer to his contestants, or to whatever it is he's referring to aside from his contestants? is that folks like walkie talkie, springy, toilet, etc? those non-contestants he made and whom he knows revolve around him, even if he doesn't know directly that he created them? so many double-meanings here.

...

i've been able to understand the unvitational committee a lot more this time around, especially walkie talkie and springy; knowing their motivations and "purpose" in the context of ii16 makes it a lot more meaningful. the ii3 finale overall was pretty well-written i believe! not my favorite part of the season, but it wrapped it up pretty well, i think.

i must apologize to ii3! i used to be so negative about it all... but it's actually pretty darn good. very flawed in a lot of ways, certainly, and those flaws make me very mad (the way the show treated bot and cabby in particular), but the season overall is enjoyable and fascinating, and it fits into the lore very well :) love you ii3!!

[bthump]

i was wondering and am curious about your opinion - we know guts is important enough for griffith to risk his life for repeatedly, made him forget his dream etc. etc. but do you think (pre-eclipse, pre-torture, pre- guts leaving ofc) griffith would *give* his life for him?

*risking* it still gives at least some chance of survival, but in a hypothetical gun-to-the-head situation where his own death for the price of guts's life would be certain, a situation that would allow him a little time to really consider it, not just an impulsive decision in the heat of the battle etc. - would he choose himself and his dream over guts, or would the guarantee of his own death, and thus no soul-shattering concept of continuing to live the rest of his life without the slightest chance of achieving the dream, be enough to for him to take that 'risking his life' a step further and fully sacrifice himself for guts's sake?

alternatively, if guts offered his own life for griffith's (i believe he would, but maybe you have a different opinion?), would griffith accept it?

lol this was a lot of fun to think about, ty!

Honestly I think my opinion is that Griffith wouldn't trade his life for Guts' if he had a chance to really consider it (and couldn't impulsively change his mind at the last second.) I think during the Golden Age, like before Guts leaves, Griffith's feelings for him are more subconscious - he knows he likes him and wants him to stay by his side, but he doesn't know that Guts is more important to him than his dream, and I think he'd consider that a personal failing if he did. I mean he kind of does in canon, imo.

And imo Griffith meant it when he said he has no friends among the Hawks - not because it's true, but because it's his way of trying to keep himself emotionally distanced. So he doesn't consciously think of Guts as his bff.

I also think that Griffith, when he's not actively deluding himself about the philosophical importance of having a dream lol, sees pursuing the dream as like, a duty he owes to everyone who died for it. In addition, he also feels like there's no point to living if he's not pursuing his dream. This is pretty headcanon-y, but I think it makes sense for Griffith to lowkey have some like, suicidal ideation going on. Dying would almost be a relief from the pressure of his dream, but it would also be a failure. Not to detract from the significance of Griffith sacrifcing himself for Guts - imo the fact that he's risking his dream for him in those moments makes it even more significant than just risking his life.

So like basically if someone had a sword to Guts' throat and said 'you or him' I think Griffith would want to give his life for Guts, both because he loves him and can't stand to see him die and because it would be an escape from his dream, but he wouldn't allow himself to, basically. He would tell himself that as a Hawk Guts is supposed to die for him and it's just a pebble on the path yadda yadda yadda and then he'd never be happy again lol.

On the other hand, if Guts offered his own life for Griffith's (I also believe he would btw), I don't think Griffith would accept. To me this falls more in line with impulsive decisions, without a real chance to think about it, and Guts wins those. If Griffith had a sword to his throat, and Guts was like 'nooo kill me instead' (in a scenario where this somehow makes sense) Griffith's automatic response would be 'absolutely not' and he'd probably slit his own throat.

Plus choosing to trade Guts' life for his own is more active a choice than simply not chosing to save Guts by stepping in and sacrificing himself, and the more active a role he has to play in Guts' death, the less he's able to do it. He can sacrifice him during the Eclipse in that moment of true despair, but even as Femto he can't actually kill him himself. I can't really imagine human Griffith choosing to let Guts die in his place.

I'm glad your question split that particular hair between Griffith sacrificing himself and Guts sacrificing himself lol because yeah I do think there's a difference.

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

What do you think of “violence” as a lens for examining the movie? I see someone mentioned it in the notes of a recent post contrasting Ben and Ian’s approaches to getting fingerprints, and I remember observing to one of my friends that it struck me as an action movie where the heroes are being shot *at* but never shoot anyone, they outwit, hide, and flee. Even at the end, under Trinity Church when they outnumber Ian’s team, the heroes don’t attempt to rush the surviving henchman and get his gun, their response is still to *outwit* Ian again.

Hey @kaiyves-backup,

Great question!

I believe the commentary in question is by @tentacledwizard.

Parallel Action

I adore the heist sequence so much. It's conveying a lot of information about both teams visually while ratcheting up the tension the whole time. This technique of cutting back and forth between two sequences of related activities is called 'parallel action', and it is used to fantastic effect in this part of the movie.

I mean, pretty much every part of National Treasure is one of my favorite parts of National Treasure, but the heist sequence just sings, and this crosscutting is a big reason why.

Good vs Evil

The trope of the heroes winning through wits instead of violence is a longstanding one. You could probably trace it back to The Odyssey if you were so inclined? It plays on some base cultural assumptions we have about good = clever, intelligent, peaceful while bad = violent, brutish, dumb. Obviously the particulars of those associations change over time, but broadly they stand.

And National Treasure is very clear about situating each side with the "good vs evil" narrative. While Ben is prepping UV light powder, Ian and co are amassing grenades and blocks of C4.

Ian's crew tases a guard to gain fingerprint access, while Ben artfully steals Abigail's fingerprints with no harm done other than some awkward flirting and potentially weird implication for their relationship later but that's not what we're dealing with atm.

The film takes every opportunity to show us the difference between these two approaches, and I think there are a few reasons why, both in general and to serve this story in particular.

First of all, both teams are doing a "bad" thing. They are both trying to steal something that we, the American public consciousness, hold sacred. To differentiate them and make sure we know who is doing it for the right reasons and for the wrong reasons, the film gives them two very different approaches. It's clear at every step who to root for.

The parallel action is also creating dramatic irony. We know that Ian is coming, and that he's heavily armed, but Ben doesn't until it's nearly too late. That creates some delicious tension, because the editing keeps reminding us what Ben and Riley don't know: this sequence is actually a race not just against the clock, but against armed mercenaries Yikes!

It also sets up Ian as a formidable antagonist. He's just as capable as Ben, but much more dangerous. He's able to match Ben and Riley's heist literally beat for beat on screen, while causing much more harm to people and property. This underscores that he will not hesitate to harm Ben, the Declaration, or anyone else who crosses his path on the treasure hunt (as an unfortunate Dr. Chase is about to learn).

Clever Heroes

One thing I want to focus on especially is the way this movie actually subverts this trope a teeny bit. Usually, the trope is that the good guys are just as capable of violence as the bad guys, but choose not to use it. They elect to outwit because it's more 'gentlemanly.' Off the top of my head I'm thinking of:

The Princess Bride. Both sides feature skilled fighters and Wesley and Inigo can and have killed a man like slicing butter, but they elect to use their wits and civility whenever possible. By contrast, Prince Humperdink and the Six-Fingered Man will use any violent means necessary to get what they want.

White Collar. Slightly random, I know, but I'm watching this right now, and the show makes it clear from the outset that Neal Caffrey is an expert marksman and highly competent with guns but he chooses not to use them because he's a classier (and therefore more likable) kind of criminal.

James Bond?? Honestly I haven't see one of these in a while but I feel like 007 isn't just mowing people down all the time. He's playing them. Outsmarting them. Only getting his hands dirty when he has to. Because he's, again, smarter/suaver/more 'civilized' and likable than his antagonistic counterparts.

The key here is that these guys all have the same violence as their opponents as an option in their toolbelts and make a moral choice not to use it.

Ben doesn't have that option.

Weak heroes

He could not, on his best day, go toe-to-toe with Ian or any one of the henchmen, let alone a group of them together. His only choice is to outwit them.

Throughout the course of the movie Ben throws one (1) punch and it hurts enough that he has to stop and shake his hand out.

And he only gets that punch off in the first place because Powell isn't expecting it.

He's a researcher. Yes he's fit enough to run around and scuba dive but if he had any kind of hand to hand combat training it would have been ~20 years ago when he was in the ROTC program.

This puts him in a sub-category/related trope: the scrawny nerd who outwits the much more physically powerful enemy. Think Mulan using the weights to help her climb the pole or a pre-serum Steve Rogers pulling the pin out of the flag poll.

And Ben is the most athletic of the bunch by far. Abigail seems like a person who takes good care of herself, but probably in a lowfat-yogurt-and-pilates way not in a can-fuck-you-up-with-martial-arts kind of way. And Riley? ...Riley does not strike me as someone who is especially strong or fit. Screen time, junk food, late nights online. Patrick is in his 60s and eats pizza alone on Friday/Saturday nights.

So while they maybe could have overpowered Ian all together, it would be a big risk, and probably none of their first instincts. Team Treasure is entirely composed of neurodivergent nerds--one imagines they all learned pretty early in their childhoods that they couldn't overpower their bullies, but they could outsmart them.

And so when their lives are on the line, they turn to the self-preservation strategy that's gotten them this far: their wits.

Conclusion

Wow, I did not expect this answer to get so deep!

This turned into an interesting look at both the creative choices in the movie and the characters.

Thanks so much for your question! Feel free to send another any time.

[mxtxfanatic]

You know, I can’t actually recall a time WWX ever controls/puppets actual ghosts the way he does fierce corpses. He has his ghost lady bodyguards that one time, but they’re mostly just chilling.

Can WWX actually control ghosts? I remember one meta saying ghosts are made of hun, while resentment powered corpses only have po, so it might make sense if he cannot.

It also might be that he technically could, but chooses not to since ghosts are clearly sapient, not just sentient, in the way most fierce corpses (excluding Wen Ning, and Song Lan) are not.

Or maybe he did control ghosts at some point but I’ve forgotten.

Honestly, mxtx doesn’t get into the mechanics of the different makeup of ghosts and corpses in the novel, so I’m not gonna address that as someone who knows nothing of how corpses and ghosts are differentiated culturally. On that note: Wei Wuxian doesn’t control ghosts or corpses the way fandom generally talks about it. He does not puppeteer their every move. He only redirects their resentment towards his targets, and even then, he doesn’t always need to. Take for example his revenge against Wen Chao and the Wen occupation of Lotus Pier: all he needed to do was attract the spirits the Wen were suppressing to the area and they did the rest of the work themselves, meanwhile the lady in red and the ghoul baby seemed to have personal grudges against Wen Chao, with Wei Wuxian referring to the lady in red as “his (Wen Chao’s) woman.” As for when he does need to direct them to a target such as with the Mo family, he only need to give a general order (“rip the rampaging arm apart”) then sat back to watch what happens, no further action necessary. In both corpses and ghosts, the ghost path leaves them with the autonomy of how to fulfill Wei Wuxian’s orders. Now going off of that point, I think this plays into the idea of the “consciousness” that ghosts/corpses have.

While Wen Ning and Song Lan may seem like exceptions to the “mindless corpse” rule, I think that they are actually only an exception to the fierce corpse rule, as “fierce corpse” is a specific classification for extremely dangerous corpses. We see walking corpses throughout the story that exhibit different levels of consciousness outside of Wen Ning and Song Lan, but the difference is that those corpses aren’t fierce corpses. Why does this matter? Well, fierce corpses are made incredibly powerful by their resentment…but this same resentment makes them mindless with rage. Wei Wuxian’s ghost path essentially exploits this known characteristic of fierce corpses to redirect their anger, something that we see he cannot do with non-fierce corpses, who have mind enough to run away from him. The more resetnful the corpse, the easier it is for him to control. And this quirk of “more resentment = less consciousness” seems to be known to at least Wei Wuxian, because part of his treatment to bring Wen Ning’s consciousness back was to rid him of some of his resentment as he was “too fierce.”

In conclusion, Wei Wuxian doesn’t puppeteer either ghosts or corpses, and his ability to control either is dependent on how much resentment they carry, as being resentful means they are more mindless and susceptible to being controlled by outside forces (hm, wonder what that could be a metaphor for…)

[blues-valentine]

So when do you think Ricky subconsciously and consciously fell in love with Gina? And if not for the drama with Mack this season when do you think Ricky would have said I love you to Gina?

I believe he fell for Gina subconsciously since Season 1. He already felt such an strong sense of connection with her but there were so many things he needed to realize and his mind wasn’t in that space yet. I don’t think Ricky on Season 1 was fully aware of his feelings for Gina. And it makes sense. He was scared of all the changes coming to his life and wanted things to remain stagnant. And so holding onto his relationship with Nini, who represents childhood, and what he once knew was a priority. Gina represents the opposite of that. Gina is change. And Ricky loved Nini and no one denies that but a lot of the reasons why he did were coming from the wrong reasons. By the end of Season 1, Gina leaving meant that he didn’t have to face them.

Even by Season 2, I feel Ricky still didn’t fully understood his feelings for Gina. He was with Nini and he was trying to hold onto a sense of normalcy and familiarity but their relationship just kept on getting worst. Ricky was the most emotionally overwhelmed. His mom started a new life away from him. His dad was dating Miss Jenn (and the drama club was a safe space from all family drama for him) and things were weird with Gina, who had been his friend and someone he could just tell things to. And her presence was also a reminder that there’s an unspoken issue between them. It was totally normal the way he was acting around Gina. He had a girlfriend and he was trying make it work but he knew his interactions with Gina were not platonic and crossed boundaries. This is why he felt a sense of guilt when Nini called and he was with Gina. But he wasn’t there yet. He needed to let go of Nini (and his childhood) to fully get a sense of the the impact Gina had in his life. Because loving Gina is embracing change. And Ricky only gets almost there at the end of the season, before that he was in denial and aloof.

Ricky needed to get thought all of those things he did on Season 1 and Season 2 to get it. Once Ricky’s mindset starts to change on Season 3, when he is ready to embrace new roads and he isn’t blinded by his desire to keep everything stagnant is that he wakes up. That’s when he consciously falls for Gina. He starts to get what everything meant and how he let her slip through his fingers. But he wasn’t ready. He said it himself to EJ, it was summer camp that he realized he had real feelings for Gina. Not just a crush, but like legit strong feelings for her. Key word being realized because those feelings were always there he just didn’t know how to process them at the time. But at that point he thought it might be too late to act on them so the best thing he can do is be there. This is why Gina’s initiative was so important.

And I don’t think Ricky felt the need to say I love you to Gina because of “all that Mack drama”. He was going to say it to her eventually. Mack wasn’t even the real issue. It was about Gina finally achieving one of her dreams but those dreams meant the idea of her walking a different path — and for Ricky who’s constantly experiencing people to not choose him or be enough of a reason to stay. It felt like he was already losing her. Ultimately, he said I love you simply because he wanted her to know he loved her despite their journey taking different paths.

[zepumpkineater]

And now my thoughts have fallen onto Hank. So many questions, where to begin? Who is he? Where did he come from? Why does he act so violently? Did he choose this path, or was it chosen for him?

All questions the Madness fandom has asked and, in many different ways, attempted to answer. Sad, angsty backstories of the loss of someone close, a rough upbringing or some kind of traumatic event.

And of course, we have the "canon" interpretation. The cold blooded murderer who has little to no regard for himself or others. No meaningful connections, no friends, loved ones, or goals to aspire to. Just a man who's really good at killing people.

And I will admit more often than not, I find myself using this interpretation for more Hank related or Hank-adjacent things, but that's not to say I haven't found myself exploring the deeper psyche of our dear protagonist, and wondering just what exactly makes him tick, so to speak.

There was a time I had actually subscribed to headcanons that made Hank more of a sympathetic character, someone to relate to and feel bad for, someone who cared for his friends and was simply bad at showing it. And while I do not challenge the validity of such headcanons, I find myself wanting to take a more...Ambiguous approach.

One of the more entertaining aspects of Madness Combat, at least to me, is the inherent ambiguity of many things. Project Nexus more or less confirmed a lot of the fandom's headcanons regarding several major characters, Hank being no exception. There have been a fair share of arguments regarding Hank's feelings to those who would otherwise be considered his friends and allies, namely Sanford and Deimos.

In a way, I enjoy how many people are discussing and debating just what Hank was thinking in the very moment he decided to betray the dynamic duo that we had just finished playing as for 1/3rd of the game, characters that we were able to easily establish an emotional connection to due to their bombastic personalities. Generally, the personalities of these two are largely uncontested across the greater fandom, but Hank's is always the topic of debate.

I enjoy this because well, it's kind of always been like this. Even in the earliest years of the fandom, there were arguments in forums and in newgrounds comments sections about whether or not Hank was the "good guy", and the debate rages on. It's endearing, much like Hank himself and the series he belongs to.

It reminds me of an idea I had, in regards to if I were in charge of a Madness Combat movie. Hank in particular is a character I would be eager to depict on the screen, to have the chance to depict his emotional ambiguity to an audience who had previously never experienced the character and his violent escapades.

I would intentionally create scenes that leave the viewer asking just how much of a consciousness Wimbleton truly has. A scene where he picks up a stuffed bear, battered and worn by years of neglect and exposure to the elements. He stops and stares at it for a moment, as if in some kind of somber reflection - before unceremoniously tearing the toy open to reveal a wad of bills inside, or some other useful item.

Was Wimbleton reflecting on a childhood lost, or perhaps the loss of innocence that now plagues his world? Or was he simply inspecting the toy in order to find the right place to tear it and extract his desired item?

I think if I were to depict the battle between Sanford, Deimos and Hank in the form of a film, I would have Hank fight in a specific way. Defensively, in order to introduce dual ideas. Does he fight defensively because he knows he's outnumbered, or does he not desire to maim and kill the duo as he does his usual victims?

Would he stab Sanford in the shoulder instead of the heart? A lucky miss, or perhaps a deliberate attack in order to avoid lethality? Is he truly fighting to kill, or does some deeper recess of his mind not desire to harm those he has fought alongside through the horrors of Project Nexus?

Would they notice it, would they see it that way, would Sanford and Deimos pick up on Hank's fighting style, or would the heat of the moment only allow them to view it as one thing: A desperate struggle for survival?

[thanatologie]

i guess it's just my life now that Deep Thoughts About Emmrich™️are some of the first things to brain worm me after regaining consciousness (waking up), but hear me out okay-

emmrich has, really, four - no, sorry, five - paths his story can take, right.

mortal and romanced

mortal and unromanced

mortal and dead

lich and unromanced

lich and romanced

it's the first and last two i really wanna talk about, and mostly the last, but let's consider:

the implication is, i think, when you choose to romance emmrich, it's an in it to win it kind of romance. it, more than the age gap, is why harding brings up how fast he and rook are moving (i'm sorry i love her and calling her lace is going to forever feel weird, forgive me), she gets that he's in deeper probably than intended, way faster than intended. like lich or mortal, it doesn't matter, it's very much implied rook becomes his Person™️in a way, say, an unromanced emmrich going out with strife doesn't have happen. that's just a date. but as a romanced emmrich progresses through the story, after the big fight he and rook have, after they kiss and make up post-fade prison and leading up to the last push for elgar'nan, there's a chance to have an interesting piece of dialogue with him where he talks about how he has so many plans he wants to share and talk about once everything's over and they're back home.

i don't think it's a stretch to assume where those plans lead, is what i'm saying, right. like...maybe more so than another of the other companions, emmrich finds his soulmate with rook. guy's just been handed everything he's ever longed for on a silver platter, especially in the mortal and romanced path, because he has manfred, and he has rook, and that's it. he's gotten his family. and i'd be lying to you if i didn't say he was probably terrified going into that last fight, because he could lose it again, just that quick, either by his death, by rook's, by something happening to manfred.

but this ain't about him.

where it really has interesting implications - and by interesting i mean horrible - is if emmrich's gone the lich and romanced path. because the tone changes in...a lot of stuff. the fight is different, because while both boil down to his fear of losing rook - which i will argue is actually greater than his fear of dying himself - a lich emmrich is very much kind of...overbearing? in a way? trying to get rook to hang back because now he's no longer as easy to kill (and i don't even know if kill is the right word there, either for me to use or emmrich, destroy might be more accurate). it's no longer an issue of his fear of death - if they've been all aboard the bone express with a lich emmrich, it's now all about rook. losing rook. how he's now afraid he'll mourn rook forever. and now he no longer has manfred.

so, my thought on this is - and not to make it dramatic, because emmrich's got enough of that nonsense for the both of us, dude just feels things incredibly deeply and 0/10 shows it - romanced and liched out is the worst possible ending for him. worse than a mortal him dying in the battle - that's quick, it's over in the blink of an eye. a lich emmrich...sure, he's got someone that loves him no matter what, that's nice. who supported his choice in becoming something more. but he has immediate buyer's remorse about that decision, because for all his talk about keeping rook safe, etc etc, the truth is, he's going to end up mourning them forever regardless. he's still lost manfred, and it clearly hits him harder than i think he would like people to think. i think the crushing weight of the certainty that, no matter what, he's going to lose rook regardless also comes crashing down on him.

all ground i've stomped on before, i know. but consider the implications of that. people like rook - heroes, is what i mean, i've got a lot of experience with heroes - don't die easy in their beds, you know? some people can settle down after something like this and live a quiet life forever after, but those types are going to be rare, because the types of people who answer the call to be a hero can't leave shit alone once they've been bitten. they see trouble and run toward it.

i think....a romanced lich emmrich goes bad. i don't mean a mwoo ha ha kind of bad, i don't mean...i don't know...a corypheus kind of bad (is that even going bad, though, considering- you know what, never mind). i think all those oaths he's taken as a watcher, and all those he probably had to take as a lich lord go out the window. i think there would be a lot of line crossing. a lot of big flashing no nos. mostly because no, i don't think emmrich is equipped for eternity. i don't think he can handle others passing through death when he can't. he might get, hell, forty+ years with rook, but what's a handful of decades with the love of your life when eternity stretches like a yawning void without them in front of you, right?

what that looks like, i don't really know. does he do what others have done before him and try to bring them back from wherever they go after death? i don't know, maybe. he's a necromancer, play to your strengths, i guess. whatever it looks like, i do think there's a distinct possibility for him to get pushed over some edge. like...it's hard to imagine, i guess, because he's so damn kind, but he's also not built for what he's asking himself to do, and i think instead of his (trauma-induced anxiety disorder) fear of death very quickly could become replaced by an all-consuming dread for the inevitable which could take him down some very, very dark roads.

[yuseirra]

Persona 3 and Oshi no Ko- About losses and moving forward

Spoilers for both works are included!

Do they seem like an odd combination? But watching them back-to-back made me realize some things. This is my commentary/stream of consciousness about how these two works tackle the loss of someone precious, and having to go on without them into the future. They do certainly share that theme in common, and it's made me think today :) I feel it's a meaningful subject to tackle.

This was originally written in another language- chatgpt helped me translate it in bulk ;v;) gah it really helps me lately; I can't dare type the full thing again, but I want to share my feelings...!

If you've been following me, you'd notice that I've been into two works (Persona 3 / Oshi no Ko) lately! Both works share the common theme of dealing with the loss of a crucial figure in one's life. In the case of Persona 3, I felt that the main story encapsulates a person’s life leading up to death, while the epilogue(episode Aigis) focuses on those who cherished that person, their lives stuck in limbo because they can’t let go, and the eventual return to the future after grieving. Literally, after the death of a very significant character, time stops for everyone left behind, trapping them in the moment. This seems like a metaphor: after losing someone, you don’t want to move on and would rather stay in that moment forever. If you move forward, it feels like you’re leaving that person behind, so you wish the future wouldn’t come. Or on the other hand, you might want to bury it all and move on as if nothing happened. But neither option is really the right answer, is it?

The correct path is to face the many aspects of that cherished person, remember them, consider what they might have wanted, and hold onto those memories as you move forward. That's the right thing to do, and in reality, the world we live in isn’t a fantasy, so it can’t be any other way. Time doesn’t stop, so you have to choose whether to move forward or stay still because the world isn’t kind enough to stop with you. Reality is harsher.

For the characters in Persona 3, the sudden loss of someone who was the center of their world left them all in deep shock, just when they thought only happiness awaited them.

In Oshi no Ko, someone is killed in the worst way possible, and this shakes the lives of everyone around that person to their core.

I genuinely believe that the person Ai really loved, that infamous boyfriend, didn’t harm her. I really don’t think he did. It just doesn’t seem like it from how the story unfolds. I’m not trying to force a hopeful outcome; it just doesn’t align with his character. It also makes for a better story if he didn’t do it. Ai’s son and daughter are deeply traumatized by what happened as well.

Today, I read several articles about suicide survivors, and they mentioned something like this (I’m paraphrasing from memory, so it might not be exact): When a death strikes sudden and shocking, as something you’re not prepared for, the time it takes for your logic and heart to accept it is drastically different from one another. It becomes incredibly difficult to come to terms with.

With a more gradual death, such as from illness or natural causes, your heart and mind have some time to prepare for the loss. But this kind of death leaves deep scars of guilt and confusion for those left behind.

From reading those articles, I began to think, whether the manga creator intended it or not, that both Aqua and Hikaru couldn’t accept Ai’s death. Even after many years, they’re still trapped in that moment, unable to move on, much like the characters in Persona 3 who are stuck in the "abyss of time" in -the answer-.

Among the three, Ruby is the most… how should I put it… She’s severely depressed too, but she’s still the one thinking about the future, dreaming of what she wants to do.

Aqua, deep in his heart, also doesn’t want to be trapped in these feelings anymore and is starting to long for peace and happiness (because his current state is incredibly painful and it brings him suffering).

As for Hikaru… he has none of that. He’s the character who, out of the three, has completely given up on the future, not even wishing to escape from his self-blame and depression. This isn’t about comparing the depth of their sadness; it’s just that he doesn’t think about his future, nor does he want to escape from his despair.

These dynamics make sense because the degree to which each character feels responsible for Ai’s death increases from Ruby to Aqua to Kamiki. The extent of their guilt over the death of someone so precious to them has profoundly affected their hearts.

That’s why I found the concept of "making the movie of Ai" in Oshi no Ko really clever from this perspective. One of the articles I read mentioned how some people, when going through the belongings of the deceased, like a diary, would realize there were sides to the person they never knew. This led them to look at the deceased from a different perspective.

For Aqua and Ruby, making the movie about Ai might have been part of their grieving process. By examining Ai’s life, they began to understand her as a person better than before. And I think Ai’s wish was always for her loved ones to be happy. What she left behind was a confession and a plea to the people she loved but had to leave behind. She was such a lovable person. Instead of being remembered for the moment of her death, she’ll now be remembered for how she appeared in the movie, right? If the movie gets released and goes public. Aqua, in particular, has a traumatic memory of Ai being stabbed, but after making the movie, I think he’ll remember her as the Ai he met while filming. And because of that… after making the movie, Aqua was able to tell Hikaru that he would move on toward the future.

As for Hikaru… I’ve said this about the character before, but I don’t think he wanted to live after Ai died. If he’s been clinging to life, it’s probably because he wanted to do something for Ai. But he’s in a state of utter despair. If you pay attention to his emotions, you can sense something overwhelming and burdensome. And whatever I’m feeling can’t possibly compare to what someone in that situation would feel, right? This must be… really hard. He must not want to live. That’s what I felt. To feel these emotions, I think this character must have had very little actual involvement in Ai’s death. The more involved he was, the more shameless and brazen he’d have become. There’d be a thorny, defensive attitude like, “So what? Sure, I did some things, but they made mistakes too, didn’t they?” You see none of that in his actions. So, I think it’s more likely that he didn’t do anything.

He hasn’t been able to move on at all. It’s like he was unable to take a single step forward from the moment Ai died. He’s probably been living with that kind of deep sorrow and despair, thinking he deserves to suffer as punishment, and he might have intentionally kept those feelings alive. That’s why I believe this character would’ve tried to undo the situation. To him, it’s as if time hasn’t passed at all… He just couldn’t accept Ai’s death, so he’d wish, even at the cost of anything, that it hadn’t happened, and maybe he wished he were dead instead of her. Without Ai, as the lyrics say in the song, he can't go on living. He doesn’t even want to live. If there had been any hope of saving her, I think he would’ve clung to it. If such a hope didn't exist, it would’ve been tough for him to hold on to these emotions for so long.

And that heart of his could begin to shift after seeing Ai’s video. Only then he would have began to realize he actually has a life with a tomorrow. It would be painful, but he realized Ai wanted him to continue living and move forward. So he has to do it. If he can't do it for himself, he must do so for Ai.

I’m not sure if he’s actually in a state where he can move forward because we don’t know how much guilt or sins he’s carrying. But it seems that only after seeing Ai’s video did Hikaru realize that he has a life ahead of him.

In order of Ruby, Aqua, and Kamiki, they seem to be progressing in their journey to move on after Ai’s death. That’s how I see it.

If someone that precious to me died, I think I also would wish time wouldn’t move forward. I couldn’t bear to see those memories fade, and I’d want to stay close to them forever.

If there were hope to bring them back, I think I’d feel a strong urge to try. That’s why I’m attached to characters like Yukari. The whole world is at stake if she goes through with it though, so I can't support her with 100% conviction, but I do see where she's coming from and I sympathize with it to a degree.

As for Kamiki, he believes he killed Ai (which I don’t think is true. It would be better for the story if it weren’t true). In that case… he can't bear to live. Ai, in terms of character relationships and setup, has been crafted in such a way that Kamiki would consider her several times more precious than his own life… She was his everything. She gave him everything that he loved. Like in the song “Fatal” where the lyrics repeat that sound like Ai, Ai, Ai, after the words, "致命的"(fatal), "運命的"(fateful), "必然的"(sacrificial), she was that kind of person to him. Losing her meant he couldn’t go on living. And if he believes it was his fault? Honestly, I don’t even know how this character is still alive. Maybe, as the title Mephisto suggests, he’s alive because he made a deal with the devil. The emotional structure in this manga is very realistic, delicate, and authentic. I believe the author has a deep understanding of psychological pain.

He was in a state where he couldn’t even begin to grieve because he couldn't bear accepting she passed. Only now, he might finally be able to. He’s revisiting what kind of person Ai was, how lovable she was (isn’t that video incredibly endearing? From Hikaru’s perspective, it’s like Ai was confessing her love to him saying "Hello! I really love you! I want to be with you forever!"). He saw her again and was reminded of who she was. That’s why he can finally begin to step out from that dark place he's in.

And that’s probably what Ai wanted. Ai really... did it. Even though she unintentionally caused pain to the people she loved, in the end, she saved them. I think Ai really liked Hikaru a lot and genuinely wanted to be with him. Not just that I think so—she actually said it herself… haha, but yeah, I think she did save him in the end… Even after her death, she ultimately saved him and her children too. It’s amazing…she's great.

In Persona 3, when the main characters decide to go see what the protagonist did, and then figure out what to do afterward, it’s somewhat similar. Figuring out what kind of person the deceased was and what they wanted—since they’re already gone, you can’t have a conversation with them or meet them directly, but still, it’s necessary to put aside your own feelings and just look at things as they are. And that became the answer to what the right thing to do was.

I’m lucky because I haven’t experienced a lot of death yet, so I still have opportunities. If someone you cherish is still alive, you have the chance to show them how much you love them.

I’m not without guilt either; there are things where I think I could have done better. But as long as both the other person and I are alive, I can still express my feelings.

The sad thing about being alive is that someday you’ll inevitably part ways. But the happy thing about being alive is that if you have people you love, you can be glad you met them. Even though you’ll eventually part ways in sadness, it doesn’t make the happiness meaningless—it shapes who you are. I hope that, for the people who have given me that kind of happiness, I can remember them more as the joy that makes up who I am, rather than just with sadness.

Maybe that’s the kind of story this is telling, too. Persona 3 definitely conveys that, and I think Oshi no Ko can also be seen in that way.

If you look at the three of them who have experienced the loss of Ai, Ruby is indeed moving in the most desirable direction, isn’t she? Besides, this manga has quite a few fantasy elements, so I think it’ll be okay. I feel like Ai, who really became a star, is probably watching over her family, the ones she loves most in the world. You can dream even more in fiction than how things are in reality. That's the good thing about "fiction", you can get a definite happy ending. Don’t you think they can be happy? :)

[nobodymitskigabriel]

It's like so many of Jack's decisions are colored by naivete or shame. And yes those things are very core to his character but I also feel like the writers were afraid to give him too much unadulterated autonomy because they didn't want to make it seem like Jack would consciously make any sort of "evil" decision.

Like yes killed someone but it was just a freak accident! He trusted Lucifer but he just didn't know any better! He killed Mary but he didn't mean to!! He was feeling overwhelmed and got away from himself :(. He went on a killing spree but he didn't have a soul and was being manipulated by Duma </3.

Even more personal decisions like "choosing" to give up his soul to kill Michael are muddled by the fact that his family was literally up against the wall and he had never been learned to value himself to the point where he'd even consider preserving his soul above his family lives. And "choosing" to become a bomb to kill Chuck because....hello? He was literally so overwhelmed with shame that he'd march himself to slaughter to earn Dean's forgiveness.

I really feel like Jack's character would have benefited a lot from more autonomy bc jfc the cambian Jesse Turner had more autonomy than Jack.

Let's take Sam who was pretty strongly paralleled with Jack in a lot of respects. Yes Sam dealt with manipulation and shame as well BUT in s4 Sam made active decisions like continuing to trust Ruby, use his powers, and drink demon blood. Things that Chuck explicitly said would make him seem "unsympathetic" to the audience. During the whole demon blood arc there were times when the audience wasn't even sure who was telling the truth or who's was in the right. Maybe Ruby is good. Or maybe Sam IS actually going down the dark path.

We as the audience realize that there was a chance Sam never came down from that high. If things were different maybe he could have gotten drafted for Azazel's evil army or Lucifer’s enthusiastic vessel and that's what makes his decision to finally counter "his nature" so powerful. Even after he freed Lucifer, Sam felt ashamed but he still advocated for himself and his decision to jump into the Cage to trap Lucifer again was not colored by a need to have Dean forgive him.

I think this is partly where all the incessantly babying of Jack comes from. Instead of getting to see him deal with any real moral crossroads and come to a decision, he's bombarded by outside forces and "acts out" to the point where his arc is more comparable to an orca than a person.

[galaxyedging]

Sex Worker!Max Lord x f!reader

Warning: sex work (not that there anything wrong with choosing that career but it wasn't Max's first choice.) Tit job. Blow job. Vaginal fingering.

Summary: When Max starts to like his new job, it seems to be less about the money and more about his employer.

WC:2.5k

Series Masterlist

John Hancock (it's funny because it has the word cock in it)

The cash you had handed him in his sweaty palm was now on his night stand.

The same sweaty palm had worked hard to relieve the full erection he had by the time he got home. He'd been halfway there when you'd finished with him. Then you'd handed over more cash that he'd previously been told to expect. Handed him his jacket when he had been barely dressed, told him the cab you had called him was waiting outside and that he should get some rest before tonight. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was gone 2am. When you said 'tomorrow', had you meant tonight? 

Before he could ask, your tongue rolled over his as your hand squeezed his ass roughly. "I have to sleep but I'll call you."

The door was practically shut in his face. He felt cheap, tawdry. He had just been bought and used. He hadn't even had the chance to wipe his face, his lips were still covered in the sweet tang of you. As he got in the cab, he wondered if this was a regular thing. Did the older man driving him home know what he had done? Did he know you like to buy exactly what you wanted from men? That you'd chosen him of all people to take home to taste your most private moment? The shame, the exhilaration, the pride. It was a heady mix that had him hard as a rock under his folded suit jacket. 

As he tugged on his lubed up cock he thought about you on your knees talking about showing him what he was worth. Was that a joke? It hadn't felt like it when you sucked on his oversensitive shaft. He thought about the moment he came on your face. The first load landed on your tongue and you happily rolled it back into your mouth. Then rest landed on your angelic features. The thought of doing it again dragged more cum out of him than his fist did.

The walk up the path to your house was different in the day time, it seemed longer. The night before he'd practically floated up the steps of each level of the tastefully landscaped sloping garden. This time his heart pumped with every step, he told himself it was the climb. He willed himself to be the same charismatic man that schmoozed his way around your work function.

When you open the door in the tiniest set of see through lingerie that he had ever seen, that man was brought to his knees. Max almost joined him. He would have happily crawled in on his hands and knees for you as you walked away after inviting him in. Your ass on full display for him in a tiny g string with a little bow at the top resting on the curve of your ass. No one ounce of self consciousness was shown by you.

"I'm glad you could make it a little earlier. I had a rough day. Martini?" He'd followed you all the way through the house to the poolside. A small bar was set up against the wall. A cocktail shaker and glass already set up, waiting on a yes. All he could provide was a nod.

A small laugh peeled from you. "You look like you can use it. I don't bite, without consent. Come here, Baby." You held out his cocktail for him to take.

When he did, your hands found his narrow waist. They stay there tracing just above his woven belt as you move around to his back. Your hand run up to his broad shoulders, kneading at the tense muscles there.

A slight tsk leaves your lips. "You need to relax, Max. Let me help you."

Downing his drink for courage he followed you to a lounger. It had a solid stone base covered with wooden slats and thick cushions. Slowly giving him time to stop your hands you worked to strip him down. His casual white button down came off first exposing the beautifully smooth skin you hadn't taken notice of the night before. His slightly more fitted pants came down long, lean legs. 

"Fuck. You are worth every cent. Look at you, so gorgeous." Max shrank in on himself as if to hide. "None of that now. I want everyone to see you." 

The house backed onto a vacant lot, it was at the end of the street set back from the neighbours, that didn't mean no one could see the two of you. Certainly not when you bypassed the closest lounger and walked Max to the other end of the pool where two of the neighbours' houses could clearly be seen. A platform for sunbathing had been set up. 

"Take those off." You gestured to his boxers, a tasteful satin pair. When he hesitantly looked over your shoulder you stepped forward tracing the outline of his cock with your finger tips. "Don't worry I'll cover this up from prying eyes. Not that you need to hide it. Such a pretty cock. I couldn't wait to see it again. It is hard just for me?" You gave it a little squeeze and felt the precum on the fabric.

Max let out a little whine as he nodded with more force than was necessary. "Oooo. It's so big and hard. I hope it's not too uncomfortable. Do you want me to help you with it?"

"Yes…please."

"Oh you don't need to beg me yet, Beautiful. May later, you'll beg me to stop." The laugh you gave followed by the bite to his earlobe made Max shiver.

Your soft hands pushed his underwear down for him to step out of. Then, they pushed him back on the platform. He landed with his legs spread, and you filled the space between them. The warmth of your mouth enveloped him, taking away any thought of being self-conscious or discovered. At this point, he wanted people to see. A beautiful woman was taking his cock deep in her mouth. It was lewd and filthy. The noise alone. Your mouth squelching around him as you sucked him like you were ravenous. The hums of enjoyment as you worked your lips over his length. 

One hand came up to cradle his balls and they tightened followed by your grip tightening on the top of his shaft. "Nu-uh. Not so fast. I think I might like to try that begging now." Climbing up his prone body you sat yourself on his now spit slicked cock. He hissed at the pressure of your core covering him. "I'm going to rub myself on the big fat cock head until I come. You don't get to come until I'm done or until I'm happy that you've begged enough. Once I have what I want I will take such good care of you. Deal?"

Max would have shook hands with Devil himself if it got you to relieve the ache in his balls. He nodded eagerly.

"Such a good boy. Oh!" The first swipe of your hips notched the tip of his cock against your clit. Grinding down on it you seemed to find a rhythm that you enjoyed. The sensation was pleasurable to Max but not enough to get him off. You looked truly stunning, curves winding in the sunlight. He wondered what you'd look like bouncing up and down with his cock sheathed in your cunt. He let out a low moan. 

"Mmmm. Love to hear you moan Max. Is this enough to get you off?" Timidly he shook his head. "Dirty boy. You need more? Would you like it if I shoved your cock in my pussy and rode you until couldn't think straight? Or would you like to fuck me hard? Would you like to bend me over fuck me like an animal on all fours for the neighbours to see. If I let you ride it bare could I trust you to pull out or would you have to fill my pussy nice and deep?" Your words alone almost had him there then the rhythmic flex of your core against him as you came pushed him closer still. "Oh, Max. Look at the mess you've made of me again without even touching me. I bet if I let you get your cock wet you'd ruin me."

Max didn't think it was possible for him to be so turned on and throbbing. So close to coming but still not. Lifting off of him you took in the sight of his pulsing red cock. "Oh, Sweetie, look at you. You did so well for me. Such a…good…pretty…boy." You pressed kisses down his chest and stomach, it flexed with anticipation as you drew nearer his heavy length. When you got there you simply blew on it before moving away. Max had never felt such blissful torture. 

Laying back next to him you kissed his lips tenderly. "Okay. I think you deserve a treat. Climb up here." You patted your upper stomach. Max looked adorably confused. "Max sit on my stomach. Please." He did as he was told. A small basket of items sat next to the left platform you pulled a small bottle from it before handing it to Max. "Hold, please." Once you slipped off your bra you took it back from Max's now lax hand. 

He was transfixed by your bare tits. He wanted to shove his head between them, showered them with kisses, and bite your perfectly pebbled nipples. His desire only grew when you emptied some of the bottle onto them and spread the oil all over them. 

"I see you like your treat already. I want you to make yourself come, Max." You pressed your boobs together. Max didn't get your meaning. "I want you to fuck my tits, Max. Don't be shy. Just slip in between them."

Bracing himself by your head with one hand the other the other fed himself into the tight valley of your breasts. "Oh. Oh my…" 

Max hadn't never done this before but he couldn't imagine this being the last time if he could help it. Aside from the incredible feel of it, the sight of his cockhead popping out of the other side tantalisingly close to your mouth drove him wild. 

Before he realised he'd picked up the pace until his balls were slapping against your tits. "Yes, Max. Show me what you've got. I knew that confidence had a reason behind it. You know how to go after what you want. Do you want to come? Do you want to shoot your load all over me?"

"Yes. Fuck. Yes. I want to cover you in it so everyone can see the proof that I touched a goddess like you. That I was worthy to defile you." 

"Oh, you are, Sweet Boy. Come for me. Cover me in it." 

"Oh. Oh, god. Ay dies mío." He trialled off into a high pitched whine as painted your chest with his seed. It merged the oil to form little pearlescent beads. It was like a vulgar lava lamp as they ran from your chest. 

Half an hour later Max found himself in a jacuzzi tub being fed grapes. As you kissed him in between bites. A bottle of very expensive champagne was half drank in the ice bucket next to him.

"See I told you I'd take care of you." 

"You did. I haven't felt this relaxed in a long time." He smiled rolling his head back.

"That's a shame. What's causing you so much stress?"

"Money." The champagne had loosened his tongue.

Climbing into his lap you hummed thoughtfully. "Max, do you like making me come?"

His head snapped up at the question. "Yes. Very much."

A smile bloomed on your face. "Would you do it now? Use your fingers on me?"

Max didn't even reply, his finger buried inside you and curved up to massage that sweet spot as his thumb brushed your clit. "Ugh. Oh, yes." It almost completely derailed your train of thought. "Mmmm. Such talented hands. Most men don't even know the g-spot exists let alone how to find it. Or the clitoris for that matter."

Max grew bashful. "For a while I was a celebrity. I was newly divorced and women threw themselves at me. I learned a lot."

"Thank you, ladies." You breathed. "Anyway…oh, there. There. Erm..what? Yes. You like making me come and you need money. What if I paid you..shit..uh…to make me come on a regular basis? Fuck you're good at that." His steady pace slowly drove you closer to coming apart on his thick fingers.

"I would enjoy that." He kissed along your shoulder. 

"I have some rules. One, you wouldn't be allowed to…to have sex with anyone else. Any ty…pe. No oral or anal." That did not seem a problem with Max, why would he want anyone else? "T…Two. Two. Oh, fuck. A little deeper. There. Two. I will take care of you as I see fit but this isn't a relationship. I don't…have time for that." That one did seem a little hard for Max as he worked you on his fingers and beautiful moans escaped your perfect, kissable lips.

"Three. So close, Max…don't stop. Four, sorry, three. You will have to get tested for any…STDs before we have…penetrative sex. Fuck. Stop a second. This is important." His hand stilled as you caught your breath. "Thank you. As I was saying, you have to be tested before and regularly just in case you can't keep to rule number one. I have some very particular tastes, and I would like for you to forgo condoms. I have a subdermal contraceptive implant. I can show you the paperwork. I got it in Finland. As well as the results of my own tests."

Max thought about how much he should tell you of his life outside this little deal. He decided not to tell you that he'd had a vasectomy after his divorce. It was too painful being separated from one child. He couldn't imagine going through that again. Max didn't want you thinking of him as a bad father. It was bad enough that he thought so.

"That all sounds acceptable." He agreed.

"Good. Now make me come and I'll cook you a bite to eat while you look over the contract. There's also an NDA in there."

Max didn't know what he found more arousing the clench of you on his fingers or your business acumen. He decided it was the former once you came clinging to him and chanting his name as he sealed the deal with a very intimate handshake.

Once he gave the contract a once over, he'd never signed something so fast in his life.

Tags: @daddy-dins-girl @missredherring @prolix-yuy @yourcoolauntie

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Cover art by @/crazycookiemaniac

Summary: The strings of Fate continue to twist and turn and wind in a rather odd manner. It's almost like the fate of the world would be dependent on just a few of the threads. Is there a chance to affect the way they are woven together? And how about the formerly so happy couple? All they carry of the other as of now, is the tender, but bittersweet emotions in their hearts, along with the rings on their fingers. Rings, which held a spell.

Pairing: Fuegoleon (CC) x Solara (OC) Fanfic type: Book/long fic Warnings: Mostly canon typical content, the battle/war themes are there, angst, Fue's fear manifests as anger (he's only human, after all), Solara is still pregnant so themes of pregnancy

Tag list: @succulentsunrise @loosesodamarble

A/N: Three months later... I wanted to see where canon progresses, but decided to make some decisions of my own in the end anyhow. Hope you like them (nyehehhee).

Word count: ~3.6k

Chapter 6: The Rings

‘Tis curious... It’s as if the Seer is no more. The string is awfully thin... Like all else. So, I wonder... I wonder if ... I wonder what’s in that room, beyond the mirror. The passage. She’s always looking at me through it, but I think there’s something behind her. Not that she ever spends more time there. But I think... there is something in there.

I wonder what it is... for ever since I was... how old was I? When I came here? Decided that it’s best to observe. To be an observer, rather than a Seer. Which, perhaps... Perhaps it’s what the researchers of Old Micah were supposed to be. To watch, but not tinker and toil.

Though the bells are awfully annoying.

Maybe they could hear the bells too and just wanted them to shut up.

Though sister... sister says that she can’t hear anything wrong with them. That some hear the bells, but hear nothing wrong about how they play. If you call that as playing. The blasted bells. They drill into my very soul. At times.

Maybe they drilled into the souls of the scientists too. And that’s why they drew the strings, and ventured too close. Trying to tinker with them. Temper with the threads that shouldn’t be tempered with.

And thus were no more... Nothing but a whisper. A distant memory for only those who are able to remember them. Their lair being nothing but ruins, hidden behind forcefields in fear of it taking place again. Another one breaking through because someone played an off note with the strings.

She half scoffed; half chuckled.

Or weaved them the wrong way. Since ... though I... perhaps it’d be better to call them as weavers. I’m not one, despite being like a spider caught in a web. Or... at least feeling like one. Though maybe spiders don’t feel trapped inside their own creations.

And since this isn’t my creation, I think that a spider isn’t a fitting description after all.

But... then... what does it make me? What am I?

I’m not a Seer, Weaver or ... Or... anything that there are supposed to be. I just exist.

Just exist and watch as the threads turn and twist, helpless as ever. Though. What would it affect me? If they’d cease to turn. If they’d... become tangled in a way like never before? What would it affect me? I am here, without a burden on my consciousness. For if I ever do nothing, then how could I be guilty of doing anything wrong?

Though sister is adamant that I do something, because choosing to do nothing is as bad as doing something wrong. While she also agrees that sometimes it’s best to mind one’s own business. Take care of her queendom and let others do as they will. Because others existing as they do, while not bothering us is... they might exist differently than we do, but it’s not inherently wrong in any way.

However... the twisting and the turning that’s taking place... Never did I think that so many threads could be affected by one path... two paths... Or maybe... It’s hard to tell.

The threads are awfully small and wound together where I can see them.

But still. They’re tied to awfully many places, and the web seems like it’s crumbling. Falling apart.

So maybe... but I couldn’t.

No one is to touch the threads. That is a Law.

One that the researchers of Old Micah learned the hard way.

No mortal hands are to touch the threads as they are.

But that makes me wonder... how would one then affect the twisting and the turning? Perhaps with a tool? That is how the scientists made it possible to weave into the net. With a set of tools that allowed them to touch threads that weren’t meant to be touched.

However... that doesn’t mean that there wouldn’t be a tool that wouldn’t allow for it. To take a hold and play the bells, attached to the threads. Or even... maybe if you connect something to the threads, and touch those instead of touching the threads themselves?

I wonder...

Her head turned towards the mirror, the pathway and the thin sheet of something she couldn’t name, which existed between that place and another. A place from where her sister gazed to her every once in a while. And for reasons that were lost even from herself, she couldn’t turn her eyes away.

I wonder what’s in that room...

---

The art of crafting a wedding band is delicate and precise work. After all, the piece of jewellery is meant to be worn around one’s finger for the rest of the days they have on this earth. And thus, it should be both durable and stylish; something that fits the person carrying the ring itself.

Designing such a piece takes time, let alone execute the craftmanship. Especially while working with a fragile material such as a leaf from the Tree of Binding Fates.

It was long, long time ago discovered that the material, which becomes hardened after falling off, could be used in jewellery or other memorabilia. But considering the significance of the ritual, it seemed only logical to incorporate such a fine material, add a fine detail, to a piece of jewellery as important as a wedding band. It in itself would already make the pair of rings unique, because no one else would have the same leaf, the same pattern, of the same shape and size and weight, as the one that The Tree served the couple. Perhaps one might find similar ones. Even hauntingly similar, while looking at older rings, preserved and kept intact for future generations to see and admire. Because surely love is something to admire. To read about the joys and sorrows the couple held, while looking at the rings, which were still there, as if to prove that the couple had existed, once upon a time.

The old man, in Thea, working for the [Lil’ Old Jeweller] had been doing what he knows best for 55 years already, in that very same shop, which was founded by his great-grandfather with no greater aspirations than to simply do a good job. It had been his wish to do an honest day’s work, in a manner that he could be proud of.

The old man could remember his grandfather having told how his father had felt rather silly while putting the word ‘old’ into the sign while opening, but he had felt that it added a certain charisma to the name. However, the word had grown true to itself, as the shop had gained popularity.

The old man could remember when his grandfather had gotten his first job with a request to add a leaf from The Tree, and how nervous he had been. Because it wasn’t just any material, it was something that couldn’t be replaced. So, he had started by chipping off only a portion of the leaf in hopes of being able to chip off another piece if he failed on the first try. And the method had proved to be successful. There had even been only a handful of occasions when a new piece had needed to be chipped off the leaf, because as the old man, his father, and grandfather, had all noticed, the work took shape around the leaf piece.

There was always a hint of a kind, along with having spoken to the couple, most of them easy to talk to, and some seeming more like they’d be the end of each other than the love of each other’s lives, about how the rings should look like. One had to work with the ring, instead of having to make the ring work for oneself. That was one of the things he had hoped to have gotten across to his daughter, who had taken an interest in adding leaves, actual leaves and flowers into the rings as well. Encase them in resin or alike material, along with the leaf from The Tree. And she seemed to do good job. Her customers seemed happy. Which was enough for him. He might not have understood the fascination, because when he thought about a ring, he thought of silver and gold, fine elements of the earth, along with gems and the leaf.

But he was already an old man. And he supposed that it was alright. Time went on, and his daughter also had the skill of listening. The old man had thought himself to have held the gift of seeing too, but upon watching the pieces his daughter made, he thought himself to have only a narrow view of seeing.

Though the daughter said their ways of seeing to simply have been different. There was no right or wrong, as long as you work with the couple, and do a good, honest day’s work.

The old man had been pleased with this answer. Perhaps that was all there was to it.

And so, the old man would continue doing his work, with the couples, the leaves and the pieces of metal, embedding the magic of the leaves of The Tree into a piece of jewellery that was worn on the ring finger of the left hand, from where there was a straight path to the heart.

Sometimes he would think how many utilize the magic that was embedded into the ring. Perhaps not quite many, because it could be used only once, and it wasn’t that often one held such a desperate need to get to one and another instantly. Especially if it was only once. Though he could always make a new ring, with the remainders of the leaf. None just seemed to think of it. Or then it wouldn’t be the same, because you only, really, get married to one person once in your life. At least... in most cases.

It was also possible that many simply... forgot about it. Put if off as just some ol’ wives tales and went on with their lives.

He also went on as to speculate that some might have thought the spell, or the mana, to activate to have needed something grand. A specific set of words that would wind into a sentence that would bring one to their loved one, or vice versa, for after all, the door swung both ways. But in reality, what was required, was rather simple.

Another thing he thought that many forgot, because more didn’t use it. And those that, perhaps, remembered it, deemed it invasive to simply yank one’s beloved to them away from whatever it was. Especially, again, since the spell could be used only once. And would give away to this one little ace in one’s sleeve. Not that it was so special that other nations couldn’t have come up with it and used it for themselves.

But, during times of trouble, he also found himself thinking if people, who once upon a time had sat there, in the small seating area of his shop, talking to him about their wishes for the rings, eyes full of love and hope for the future, had found themselves falling out of love. After all, it was not always love that bound people’s fates together. So, it was possible, that somewhere down the road, what had brought the couple together, drove them apart. And thus, the magic that existed in the rings was left unused.

Luckily, those thoughts, those moments, were scarce. And more often than not, he found himself smiling while thinking back to all of the encounters he had with the brides and grooms to be. Every story different from the other. But the smiles and the gazes, the tender, subtle displays of affection, they he could recognize. Even if they all harboured a special flare of their own, no matter how similar one might have thought them to be based on a glance. And the similarities, he had found, stretched far beyond the borders of nations.

For a while he had nearly forgotten it. During the years that it had been only Thean couples that came to see him. But one of the latest couple he found himself thinking more than any other for a while. Perhaps because of how much they had been talked about. Because of what was achieved, essentially because they had been the driving force for the borders opening and new alliance forming.

He had thought that maybe he shouldn’t have been so surprised to find them, sitting across the table from him. But. He had been.

However, the surprise and the wonder had faded away as he looked at them smile. As he smiled because they smiled, and because the smile was contagious.

He hoped that the couple would never need to use the magic of the rings. He hoped that they could be happy and content; spend the days of their lives, together.

---

The smooth surface of his wedding band, which hid a pattern, as if flames, on the inner surface of it. He let his thumb grace the piece of metal, which spoke of a promise. A shared vow between two lovers, during a time that had been filled with... hope... More hope. A time that had been joyous and had made his flutter in the best of ways.

And he could remember... how it had been her fingers gracing over that surface of his wedding band. He could remember, how her fingers had trailed up his arm to play with his hair. How she whispered gentle nothings to his ears, or how she’d giggle, burst into a laugh because of something silly that he couldn’t even remember anymore. He just remembered the laugh.

He remembered how beautiful she had been.

He wondered how he had been blessed. Even for such a short while. A passing moment. A breath.

That’s how it felt, even if they had been together for years. Despite having been the best years of his life, they had been over in a blink of an eye. Too soon. Too quick.

Though he wasn’t sure if even a lifetime had been long enough of a time. But that was all the time he had; all the time she had. A lifetime.

It was just a shame that his lifetime would end up being shorter than hers. Not that he would have willed it any other way; for hers to be shorter than his.

And for a moment, he had to wonder if it had been only a dream. Something his mind had concocted during his coma, which he wished to believe with his entire being.

But... it hurt too much for it to have been a mere dream. The golden threads of fate, spun into ropes, were wound tightly around his still beating heart, which he hoped would carry his affection to her. He hoped that she could hear him, feel him, there, until he wouldn’t be. And perhaps, even after that.

He wished that she knew his last thoughts to be of her. Even when the battle was raging around him. Even as the end was nearing.

Something seemed to have caught the angels’ interest, perhaps a squad, or another captain. He wasn’t sure. But he had seen Yuno upon a glimpse, battling Lucius. He almost sure that he had seen Noelle too, which meant that the Bulls had returned. Perhaps that was why the angels seemed to have found something else of interest than the civilians, for the most part. Which allowed him to look around. Gaze around the area that surrounded him, rather than fire spells haphazardly at the enemy all around.

And what he saw, did anything but shed hope into him. If there had been much to begin with.

But the thing was, as a knight, he couldn’t give in; give up, turn his back on the sacrifices of his knights. He owed it to them. He owed it to the citizens of Clover. And, he felt that he owed it to his family. To stand his ground and be the man that he had tried to be, all his life.

He didn’t think himself to be afraid. Not anymore. He didn’t think himself to be angry, or sad... He didn’t know what he thought himself to be. If he was anything but a pawn in a game that seemed fixed. He knew that he had preached about the dangers of hesitating, freezing up; doing anything but steeling oneself.

He had learned that the hard way.

And yet, he found himself placing, again, his thumb over his wedding band, and thinking of her.

I wish... that we could have been together. This was our choice, and it was... the right ... choice. But still... I wish that... you’d be here.

However... as his mind formulated the thought, the words, the gentle, genuine confessions of his heart into a manifestation, he didn’t think the gilded string of fate, bound into ropes, to be listening. He didn’t remember the little spell, not in the pendant around his neck, but in the ring around his finger.  

The little spell where the door swings both ways.

And the magic, the first spark of mana was so faint that he almost missed it. Almost, but not quite.

It was just enough for his gaze to fall onto the small piece of precious metal, which now glowed a gilded, reddish glow, which reminded him of the leaf from The Tree, the rest of which was still in their room.

The glow was followed by a flash of light. Golden threads coiling around what looked like a small, tender, summer sun.

Perhaps, in another time, in another place, he would have thought it to be beautiful. Perhaps, but now, it chilled him right down to his very bone, because it meant something he didn’t wish to comprehend. Something he didn’t want to understand; believe.

He couldn’t believe it.

He didn’t want to believe it.

Never would he have thought that seeing her, would have equalled his worst nightmare. But now, as it did, all he could do, was stare at her. Eyes wide open, pupils constricted and locked onto her.

This… can’t be…

“Are you hurt?” She asked, as if that had been a reasonable question. The first thing she asked, as her eyes met his, her arm moving to her other, to do... something... but he didn’t register half of it. He could only think about the question.

As if it had been a reasonable question…

As if…

She was wearing an armour, and though it wasn’t… one that he could recall, it still… wasn’t enough. The thick plate around her stomach seemed only as a thin veil over what was more than a target to an enemy.

“Honey?” She asked, eyes full of worry, sorrow, but still with a soft fondness in them that was far too gentle for a place like this.

Place that was worse than the Underworld, worse than hell. Because even in hell are only those worthy of the punishment cast upon them. And here, it was mostly those … who were not.

“What… are you doing here…?” He could hear himself asking from her, through the haze and the deliria.

For a moment he had to consider that he had died, and this was but a fever dream. A horrid, twisted concoction of his mind during his final breath.

“I... was drawn to you,” she replied, looking at her ring. Yet another horrid statement.

Though… perhaps… in another life, another time, he would have deemed it soft and sweet, a promise fulfilled and so sacred that he couldn’t comprehend… But now, in its gentle caress lied thorns.

Oh how he wished they would have been mere thorns, instead of the soul carving, hollowing, burning, flooding sensation that sought to take over him.

A primal emotion. The primal emotion of fear, fluttered in him. But it came out as rage.

“What, are, you doing here?!” He shouted as his face twisted; teeth bared as if canines to ravage flesh. 

“I-, came to-”

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?!” He yelled again, jaw clenched and overtaken by a flood from within him.

“I… You...” she managed, before his right hand grabbed his left, fingers twisting onto his wedding ring.

“GET. OUT!” He yelled, slamming the ring, embedded with a leaf from the Tree of Binding Fate, onto the pavement of the Capitol. It clicked against the stones under them as the only sound she heard.

It might have been but a small, ringing sound of metal against stone, but the faint sound, was the loudest thing she could conceive.

And with it, she could feel her heart sinking in her chest. As if punched, her organs pushed all the way to her back.

As if a slap in the face.

And all she could do, was stare at that ring, as it rolled away from her.

But she didn’t want to see it go, so, she reached forward with a motion that was heavy; trembling. And cast Gravity of the Sun with minimal effort in hopes that it’d come back as tears rolled down her cheeks in the middle of the Capitol where she sat, alone, on the cold harsh ground.

No choice that she could have made, was good. But somehow, this, felt the worst one she could have taken out of the options provided. To sit there, unsure of what to do.

And… what made it worse, was the fact that she could feel the little ones kicking in her stomach.

They’re so feisty… she smiled to herself despite the tears. Just like their father…

[vetrenar]

Still thinking about different iterations of Vash' pacifism (with the next part known as: scientific proof why the best way to defeat Knives is to hug him)

In the manga and old anime, Vash's decision not to kill is his choice. He may get angry, he may want to kill - but each time, he consciously chooses not to, because it's his way to keep Rem alive. While he gets accused in cowardice from time to time, his position is that of an insanely strong person, who doesn't allow himself to give in to his desire for revenge.

Stampede Vash, though? I love this babygirl to his bones, but the truth is, he's still very mentally immature. His unwillingness to kill comes not from his choice, but from his desire to run away from making a choice. Manga Vash made a full circle but Stampede is afraid to take even a first step.

Because if he does this, what's next? He will have to accept everything that comes with accepting someone's desire for revenge: that Nai is a murderer that must be put down, but also, that humans killed hundreds of Plants and that's, too, a crime that must be stopped, and that he can be angry at them for their wrongdoings. And Vash can't be angry with humans. Not after everything Nai did and continues to do to them. So it's much easier to just... stay silent, take every bullet they send in your way and continue your path of redemption.

And this is a problem. Because as much as Vash doesn't want to choose a side, he has, in fact, chosen one. His guilt complex represses his self-preservation, but it also spreads, in his minds, this way of living to his brethren. Humans come first. They should survive. Their deaths is a tragedy while his sisters' - a sad fact of life. "Humans will become better someday, we just need wait and bear our fates patiently." Vash heals ailing Plants when he meets them, but his first concern upon seeing the dying Plant in Jeniora Rock? It's humans' safety and not the fact that they, by negligence of their lack of knowledge, effectively killed his sister.

So yeah, he has chosen a side long ago. He just is unwilling to realize this, and that's what made Knives's mind games so effective. And while I call bullshit on Knives's explanation of his motives, he clearly knew what he's doing. He really knew Vash better that Vash knew himself, in more aspects than one.

Vash wants to blame himself on humans' behalf? He wants to be a God that'll save every single one of them? To shoulder their lives? Knives will let him. If fact, he will make Vash face the full weight of this responsibility, knowing perfectly well that his little, meek, hypocritical (I mean... Yeah, Knives, the mirror is over there. But the point still stands) brother, for all his promises and beautiful words, will break from such a burden.

Knives may be the one with his hood constantly up, but it's Vash who hoped that if he closes his eyes and hides under a blanket, everything would somehow magically fix itself and everyone would become friends. Until the 12 ep, he was the Vash of manga who for over 70 years trailed behind Knives, not ready to break away from his brother but also not being really with him.

... And here I was going to switch to Knives and his relationships with Vash but this post is already long enough. So until the next part, I guess.

[tomfoolies]

begin again

ship: corporate affairs words: 722 a/n: finally, here's the tomja s4 finale fic that i promised!! i actually wrote most of this all the way back in june when i finished my first rewatch, so it's about time i posted it <3 definitely more stream of consciousness kinda writing than what i usually do, but i had fun with it and i hope you like it too :3

--

Tom did it. The impossible, the unachievable. Something he once thought he’d never want to do, let alone be capable of doing.

Once again he was at a crossroads, two distinct lifes ahead of him. A lot of those happened in these past few years, he muses. Constant choice-making, choosing sides, chasing coattails and proclaiming his usefulness to anyone willing to take him on. But the hunt has grown stale, apprehensive, even terrifying in certain moments. 

He looked around the place, one pretentious establishments amongst the others, recalled the time he sat across Kendall, in a situation all too similar; being wooed for his loyalty that seems to have always felt easy for others to win, because he should’ve felt lucky that he was even being wanted in the first place. He looked at Mattson, the man who had now revealed his plans to him after what he thought was just something for entertainment, for evaluation. In his mind, Logan’s dead body on the airplane floor, a divination of things to come if he decided to walk down that path. I grind because I worry – it’s the truth, and it would’ve been the death of him. 

On the surface, his fears, his makeshift predictions. And at the heart of it all, her. 

“You know Sonja would respect you much more if you decided to help me out…” The memory of Kendall’s words resurface, the way he flashed the information like valuable cards in the intensely complex game they’ve played for years now without ever really knowing the rules. “Because she already did just that. Didn't she tell you? I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her.”

He hadn’t given Kendall the satisfaction of being surprised. Of feeling some sort of betrayal. Of thinking about it, even if only for the briefest of moments. But he knew he’d get fucked, Sonja knew he’d get fucked. It wasn’t a viable choice. 

Sonja waits for him at their apartment, but anticipation and trepidation greet him first when he unlocks the door. Only after that comes her, in her anxious stance with her arms crossed, her shuffling walk. She'd turned in her resignation just a few days ago, waiting for this moment and its consequences with baited breath. The dogs feel the tension too, gingerly pad over to smell their dad to see if he’s changed. If he’s still the same Tom from before. 

Watching her now, with a dizzying sense of freedom in his chest he doesn’t ever remember feeling, he knows that today’s choice wasn’t one to begin with. Ironically, when it’s exactly what she taught him; the knowledge that he always has an opportunity to choose differently. But maybe with it, also the ability to know when there is only one road to take. 

She doesn’t have to ask. He gives her his answers with honesty that still humiliates him sometimes. 

“He wanted me to step up, take on the mantle. But I said no,” he says, and watches her face change. From confusion to clarity. “I'm done.”

Just like the first time, their beginning that feels so long ago that they must've lived lifetimes since. When he came to find her after a fight that left him reeling and relieved and with the taste of deliverance, telling her he’d ended things with Shiv. Sonja had been waiting for him, the tension between them had come to a standstill and had to be resolved. They’d both felt it, and everything around them conspired to make their collision happen. That time it ended with her body against his, as fast and as fervently as possible with the realization that there is something between them that can’t be quelled. 

Perhaps later tonight they will do that, too. But now her arms wrap around him and she sighs her relief into his collarbone and he buries his face in her hair. Caught in a moment where it’s just the two of them, the rest of the world gone somewhere else at last. 

She pulls back to look at him, almost like seeing him in a new light, cradling his face in her hands and then she’s pulling him under and he takes to it gladly, their foreheads touching. 

Something unknown yet great is right at his fingertips. He decides to grasp it with both hands.