#i think it's important that he makes the one ring and sacrifices even more of himself in the pursuit of order

[cherie-doll]

I said "do you think you'll kill for me one day?"

(Yes, of course I will, my darling)

― yandere!cod men x reader ― ε price, ghost, soap, gaz, roach, makarov, alejandro, rudy, phillip graves, keegan, könig, horangi, nikto з suggestive?

꒰ ͜ ‿ ͜ �� ͜ ‿ ͜ ꒱

ଘ You're no plaything for Price. He doesn't just like you, he adores you. Cups your pretty face in his hands; delicately. His rugged and rough hands become gentle as soon as he comes into contact with your skin, treating it as if it were finely-grained porcelain. He treats you the exact opposite of how he treats anyone else. Whilst he leaves everyone else covered from head to toe in blood for coming near you, you're covered from head to toe in the most expensive items you wish for. But, he doesn't want you to forget that his money doesn't represent his love for you, it does not begin to cover not even half of what it should. He'll be sure to remind you not to be spoiled rotten. He's fond of you and while he's interested in you, you should listen and obey to what he advices you. He is more experienced after all.

ଘ Compare what Simon's scars and bruises are to your unscathed body. Let his hands roam over your body, taking in all he works for. Let them wander and familiarize with what he's toying with. His breath on your skin as it quickens, losing his train of thoughts as he fondles you. He's convinced you're meant only for him. No one else should touch you this way, no one could do it like he does. And please return it! Cradle his head in your lap, so the sizzling subsides and he feels alive. Let him know he's the best, the one. Let him lean in and capture those soft, plump lips in a passionate kiss. Don't pull away, don't deny him his heaven. And don't you dare let anyone else trail your body with their eyes like he does. Why, he'll feel as if they're already doing what their mind desires. He's screwed up in his mind but he'll move heaven and earth for those thighs to wrap around his waist at night spilling the warmth between them. Make him feel warm and welcome, give him the world he burns everyone else for. He sacrifices others at the feet of your altar.

ଘ Johnny's smug smile can fade rather quickly with one sensual move from you, watch him get lost as his breath is winded and his body is overtaken with an all-consuming fire of passion. Oh, he can't even fathom the idea of anyone before or after him experiencing such things. He'll be paralyzed the moment you sit on his lap and putting your hand to his chest, let it trail over his heart which at the moment beats wildly. It's a sensation he experiences when plunging a knife deep within someone else's chest, he reckons the feeling is almost the same. He thinks his victims rather lucky they die this way. How many other people can experience that fleeting, overwhelming feeling?

ଘ Kyle's hand kisses are done with such reverent trembling and respect that he'll have your skin tingling with warm sensations as if the late evening sun was seeping into your skin. Let his and your body blend together like the watercolors on an artist's canvas does. Bask in his affection like you'll sunbathe on the beach. Take in all the good he brings you, accept every touch of his that starts with a secure embrace and ends with the colliding of your bodies. The cold with which he lashes out for others has no place with the gentleness he entreats you with. Keep your eyes on his, locked in his steady gaze immerses himself in fantasies. He feels dizzy as if his world was spinning, losing himself in the sensations. And after the elation, let him shower you in praises, caresses and gifts. Let him buy you two rings for each finger, how many could you want to show off having a caring partner when you slide his card at the register? Make your hands look pretty whilst his are leaving a trail of crimson blood after him.

ଘ Roach couldn't ever hurt anyone else, he didn't know what he was capable of until the importance of you came all too clear. You're something that shouldn't belong to anyone else in the world. It's a quick descent down the spiral of violent devotion. His soft gaze usually filled with admiration and sentiment for you hardens, his pupils dilating as fear takes over. He's only acting on behalf of all his anguish, you haven't the heart to condemn him. He's shown you what your heart is worth, couldn't you give him some sort of heaven? He will do very well at whatever it is you ask of him, just wait while he shows you. There isn't anyone else like him he says over and over as if a prayer or spell he could make come true.

ଘ Makarov does not care whether he deserves you or not. Unlike the others who will commit unspeakable acts out of guilt and use their "pure" intentions to purify their actions, Makarov is selfish and relentless in what he wants. He does not flinch at your attempts of control, it's lost the moment he takes you in. He's determined to taste everything you have to offer, whether it's willingly or not. But he does like things to be served on a platter for him, he also has no problem taking it himself. Let the hand on the back of your neck guide you in the direction you are to walk, be docile and you'll surely receive tenderness. He can never deny that he loves the way your lashes flutter as you look through them up at him as he pats your head for being so good. Overtime you might notice small details showing his exterior cracking and revealing the soft, white underbelly of affection. He feels as if his chest caves in from your actions, the subtle red at the tip of his ears. Keep pulling at his neck collar, he'll like that fake sense of control you have.

ଘ You wouldn't ever catch a glimpse of Alejandro's manipulative strategies until he finds someone threatening. Is it wrong you're not seeing enough of other people? His biggest fear is you falling for someone else, the danger of you getting too close to someone is palpable for him. The intimacy you two share is from the harvest he's worked so hard for. He's been slaving away for so long to just let someone else lay a hand on you. He kneads you into what he desires, anything to feel the beating heart in your chest which pumps only for him. He'll keep polishing you until he gets down to the bare essence of you, which he can only dream to capture. The rhythm he wants to feel rushing through his veins, circling throughout his body.

ଘ Rudy's tenderness blinds you as he takes you to what you can only describe to be paradise. With the shining of luxury, all new and just for you he says. He'll press a million sweet kisses on your face before dropping that a most bothersome person will no longer be graced by your presence ever again. To him it's like a quiet act of love, to you, it's unimaginable. Don't worry your head will all the details, isn't it better to have no worries? He's all smooth indulgence telling you to keep looking at the adorned future he has ahead for you, telling you not to pay attention to the blood that stains the walls of the hallways you walk. He would lay out a new, fancy red carpet over the corpses for you to step over and continue in this fabricated dream.

ଘ Phillip knows exactly how to get the best out of you. Can you blame a man for knowing how to get what he wants from you? Let him tease and tug for he knows what every maneuver of his does. The hands that massage your skin don't get dirty, he'll always have others ready and willing to carry out whatever order he gives. It's what he's accustomed to and how he intends to keep it. But the droplets of blood that splatter do not miss his skin. The stain is still there, still under the skin of the thumb he pushes inside of you, feeling around for that bliss. Let his protectiveness clothe your body, he's already blurring the lines between obsessiveness and possessiveness.

ଘ Keegan's eyes will have you coming to a stumbling halt. Asking for something only you know how to give so good. Those erratic eyes that are unpredictable as they are deep, representing the deep dive you have to be holding your breath for. Are you ready to indulge? Because the impact will have you gasping for air, and when you try to take one you'll only swallow a mouthful of carnal desire. He ignites such a heat it's scalding to the touch, you don't know what's happening it's like you lose control. It happens so fast that when it's all over you'll let his lips, from which hot breaths slip through, kiss all over your sweat glistened body. His eyes might be softer and hold it for a while until he's back to the merciless, cold gaze which freezes everyone's else blood, feeling it lump within their veins.

ଘ Let König go on his fast rampages. They're over quick anyways. And afterwards, when he comes back, cradle his head between your thighs his tongue tangling as he stutters out promises to buy you what you wish if only you let him lap at your sweetness until his thoughts are left to reckless abandonment. Let him get what he can't get anywhere else. Call him handsome as your bury your fingers into his hair, your fingertips trailing his jaw and down his neck to where his adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. Place kisses on his cheek until he turns his head in one swift motion and captures your lips in a desperate kiss. He wants it all, wants all of you all at once it makes him messy, shaky and weak. But he just wants someone to hold him, rubbing his ears and whispering words of affirmation in his ear.

ଘ Horangi could care less what other's want from him. You're in his viewpoint and he's determined to apply as much pressure as possible to make you bend. The reason he justifies himself with is the lullaby he's lulled to sleep with. Everyone else wants something from him, why shouldn't you? Everyone else is just in the way, he says over and over again, trying to make you focus on his lips instead of the bodies on the floor. With what he's done, he expects a standing ovation from you, nothing but complete adoration and servitude. He's a man who chases after impulses, who knows how long until this candle runs out. For now, ignore the brusque hand and acknowledge the underlying intents. He'll keep this lecherous momentum going until you're feeling faint from the mere touch of his hand.

ଘ Resignation is a trait Nikto works hard to work out of you. Surely, you ought to trust him after all he's done for you. In his mind, he's dedicated such gentle caring to you, you should be grateful. Don't be afraid to take directly out of his hand, he prefers you lose that skepticism. And when you do start to gentle, oh he can never get enough of it. His fingers grazing and gliding over your body at any and every chance he can get. Let him delve deeper into you, it's only natural for him to want to know you better. Every quiver of yours, he feels through the epidermis of his skin. He just knows you that well. His jerking movements shouldn't startle you by now. Maybe if you were more open, you would be telling him what you want. Give him some sort of sign before that spark ignites an unyielding fire. Because to him, that trembling is a sign of a smoldering fierceness waiting to break through.

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . ꔫ

[verstappenverse]

The Price of the Podium

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: In the relentless pursuit of racing glory, Max faces the emotional fallout of missing an important weekend in his relationship, leaving your future uncertain.

1.5k words / Part 2 / Masterlist

Max's heart raced as the engine of his RedBull roared beneath him. The familiar hum had become a source of comfort, a steady rhythm that guided him through countless laps and countless victories. But today it felt different—a harbinger of an approaching storm that threatened to dismantle everything he held dear.

The season had been merciless. Each race had been a relentless pursuit of perfection, each lap a battle against time and competitors. Max understood that this world demanded sacrifices but lately the weight of those sacrifices had become different.

When Max glanced at his phone during a fleeting moment of respite his stomach dropped as a surge of guilt swept over him. A string of missed calls and urgent messages from you filled the screen, each one more desperate than the last.

Hey, can you please call me when you get a chance? I need to talk to you.

Max, you’re really starting to worry me. I don’t understand what's going on?

It’s been three days since we spoke properly. Can you at least let me know you’re okay?

Max’s gaze fell on the calendar, he had promised again to visit your extended family this weekend a significant step for you both that had been previously filled with excitement and anticipation. Your family were eager to meet him, and Max had been looking forward to it as well. But now, with the punishing schedule of the season, he was struggling to find even a moment to breathe, let alone make the trip.

He knew he was being a coward, but it was easier to avoid the situation than confront it directly and risk letting down the person who mattered most.

As Max approached the racetrack for another testing session, the weight of his choices hit him like a sledgehammer. He was about to miss an important milestone in your life together and he didn't think you'd be so forgiving this time.

His mind was full of conflicting emotions. He wanted to be there for you, to prove to your family that he was serious about your relationship. But the world of racing had a way of consuming everything in its path leaving no room for personal commitments.

The testing session was a blur. Max’s driving was flawless, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The track blurred into an endless ribbon of asphalt. He pushed himself to the limit, hoping that the adrenaline would drown out the guilt gnawing at his conscience.

Finally, the session ended. Max’s team were in high spirits celebrating the improved performance. He barely registered their enthusiasm, his mind was occupied with the image of you waiting for him in a small town, wondering why he had not shown up. He could picture you there, waiting for him, checking the clock, wondering if he’d even bothered to leave. And it wasn’t just about this weekend—it was about every missed call, every text he hadn’t answered, every promise he’d let slide.

The moment Max stepped out of the car he took a deep breath and pulled out his phone. He dialed your number hoping against hope that you would answer. After a few rings your voice came through the line tinged with weariness and frustration.

“Max?”

“Hey, I’m so sorry. I know I’ve been out of touch.”

“Out of touch? You’ve been completely absent! I was supposed to introduce you to my family this weekend. It was important to me.”

“I know. I wanted to be there, but things just got out of hand here. I’ve been trying to make time, but…”

“But what Max? You keep saying you’re trying, but you’re never here. There's always an excuse.”

“I’m really sorry, I’ve been working so hard this season...I thought I could make it work, I just…”

“You know what? I don’t want to hear more excuses right now. You’ve missed something important to me again, and it hurts. I needed you here, and you weren’t.”

The silence on the other end of the line was heavy, almost unbearable. Max could feel the pain that you were struggling to mask, like a knife twisting in his gut. It cut him deeper than any criticism he’d ever faced on the track.

“Please. I know I messed up, I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“Make it up to me? I don’t even know if that’s possible anymore. This wasn’t like the other times when you just forgot or lost track of time; you made the choice not to come. I’ve tried to be understanding—I know how hard this season has been, and I know how much time and dedication it takes. I never wanted to undermine that. But I don’t know how much longer we can do this. I get it, you have to make tough choices sometimes, and I’ve done my best to support you, to step back and let you focus on your goals. But it’s happening too often now, and it feels like every time, you’re choosing this..this life over us. Over me. Every single time.”

Max’s throat tightened. He wanted to argue, to explain more, but he also knew that he couldn't keep making excuse for his absence, and he couldn’t bear to hurt you anymore. He’d run out of explanations, out of promises he knew he couldn’t keep. He wanted to say something, anything to fix it, but he could hear the finality in your voice. You’d reached a breaking point, one he’d seen coming but had been too afraid to acknowledge.

“I don’t know what to say,” he finally whispered, the words feeling hollow even as he spoke them.

The silence stretched on.

“I understand if you need space.” he murmured, barely able to get the words out, blinking back tears.

Your voice was barely a whisper throat locking up, it felt like he was giving up. Was this even worth fighting for if he wasn't?

Then, in a voice so small it broke his heart all over again, you whispered,“You’re right. Maybe space is what we need right now.'

The line went dead, leaving Max alone in the garage. The celebration of the session’s success felt hollow. The echoes of the track still rang in his ears mingling with the ache of your absence.

In the days that followed Max tried to bury himself in the upcoming races, hoping that the endless rush would drown out the regret gnawing at him. He avoided reaching out to you honouring your request for space. Each day felt like an endless rotation of driving, media commitments, and sleepless nights. The thrill of racing was overshadowed by the growing distance between you and him.

You had always been patient and understanding of the demands of Max’s career. You had supported him through the highs and lows, celebrating his victories and comforting him through the losses, but it hadn’t been enough. Each missed call and unanswered message chipped away at your resolve. You couldn’t keep repeating the same cycles and expecting a different result. The weekend you had planned for Max to meet your family was meant to be a milestone, a step toward a future together. Instead, it felt like a crushing disappointment.

You replayed the conversations you had with Max in your mind, trying to reconcile the man you loved with the absence he had become. You had pictured this weekend as a chance for Max to understand the importance of your family, to see the life you had outside of his world. The hurt and frustration you felt were compounded by a growing sense of doubt—doubt that maybe this life of constant motion had created a rift too wide to bridge.

You needed time to process the hurt, to focus on yourself and figure out where to go from here. The support you had hoped for seemed distant and unreliable, and the future you had envisioned together felt uncertain.

Loving him had been a beautiful dream, but you knew it was time, you hesitated just a moment before hitting send.

Max,

I need you to know that I’m not angry anymore. I’m just… tired. I need to focus on myself right now.

You

Max read the message over and over, his hands trembling. The message was brief and seemingly final. The reality of your words sank in, there was no dramatic declarations, no harsh accusations, just a simple statement of exhaustion, a quiet resignation that tore through him. He wanted to call, to beg you to come back, but he knew it was too late.

As the season drew to a close, Max stood on the podium, the roar of the crowd a distant echo, his gaze searching as if somehow he’d see you there. The trophy was in his hands, but it didn't feel like he had expected. He looked out over the crowd searching for a sense of fulfilment that seemed to elude him, it all felt like ashes without you beside him.

Max only thought of you as he stood amidst the celebrations, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that in the pursuit of his dreams he had sacrificed something far more precious, and wondered if there was a path back to what he had lost.

[dalishious]

Lucanis and Family

House Dellamorte is so gloriously messy. You don’t get to achieve and keep the seat of First Talon without getting your hands dirty…. and unfortunately, without a great deal of loss.

Caterina

Caterina Dellamorte had five children and eight grandchildren. Lucanis’s mother was her favourite; she gave his mother her opal ring as a show of that favour. But House Velardo killed Lucanis’s parents and sent the ring back to Caterina to demand she surrender the seat of First Talon. When she refused to submit, a war of succession broke out amongst the Crows. House Dellamorte remained First Talon, but at great cost – the only surviving family Caterina had left was two of her grandchildren, Lucanis and Illario.

Lucanis says he and Illario lived in Villa Dellamorte with Caterina until they were eighteen. While he says they would have ended up under Caterina’s care regardless for training, they were taken in by her early after their parents were killed by House Velardo.

In the Tevinter Nights story, The Wigmaker Job, Lucanis reflects on the following:

“Memories of sweat-filled days without food or water came unbidden. Lucanis’s back tingled from where his grandmother’s cane had bruised his flesh for letting his guard down or fumbling his footwork. For years, he’d hated her. But his time as a Master Assassin had since taught Lucanis that Caterina’s cruelty was her way of making sure that he was prepared for this life—that he survived.”

And if Rook is a Crow, they share this dialogue:

Rook: What was it like? Training under the First Talon?

Lucanis: What was your training like?

Rook: Torture.

Lucanis: There you go.

Rook: But you didn't resent her?

Lucanis: Not anymore.

Thus, it makes sense that in Lucanis’s mind prison, Spite describes Caterina as “tenderness and terror.” She is his grandmother, and he has always been her favourite, as he acknowledges. I do not doubt that she showed affection for him, but unfortunately it also came with cruelty.

While I do not wish to defend Caterina’s actions, I do think it is important to contextualize them with a reminder that she is a woman who lost her entire family. I really do believe that Lucanis is correct in his assessment that Caterina torturing her grandchildren was her way of making sure they would survive, where their parents did not. Because unfortunately, she is also someone who clearly cares about maintaining her power, and was not willing to sacrifice it for the good of her family’s wellbeing. She wanted to have both power and family, and Lucanis and Illario suffered for it.

Illario

I truly do have sympathy for Illario, despite all the terrible things he’s done.

First of all, remember that all Lucanis went through, Illario also went through. But unlike Lucanis, I don’t think Illario has ever really fully forgiven Caterina. In The Wigmaker Job, he comments, “All that effort training and grooming us, and the old woman still won’t step aside.” Illario doesn’t see the point of been groomed as he was, and doesn’t excuse Caterina like Lucanis does. Probably because no matter what, he’s always been treated as the lesser one.

The saddest thing about Illario though is, in my opinion, that the only way he would have ever actually gained Caterina’s respect is if he really did kill her. Lucanis says he believes as such to Emmrich in party banter. But he couldn’t even do that right. He’s such a fuck-up and I love him.

Lucanis

Lucanis’s mind prison offers more insight in how he sees Caterina… and himself.

When you approach Caterina in the mind prison, she is angry that Lucanis is an abomination, and Rook is able to observe that Lucanis fears he has disappointed her. Spite comments, “Old stale fear of disappointment.” As the favourite child of an abusive parent myself, I can tell you right now I really relate to this sentiment of thinking you need to be perfect in order to keep your favouritism, because they make you feel like you owe that to them.

When you approach Illario in the mind prison, the first thing Illario says is that Rook is too good to be wasting time with Lucanis. He also says that Lucanis will fill his mind prison with corpses. Because that’s how Lucanis has traditionally seen himself, I think; as someone who’s only importance is that he’s a good killer. It’s how Caterina raised him. But now that he’s had a taste of more with the Veilguard, he’s terrified to lose it. Spite says that there are three kinds of people: “Family. Enemies. Contracts.” But the Veilguard has shown Lucanis that he can have friends, too. (And potentially a lover if Rook romances him, or he gets with Neve.)

Average families can be complicated. Assassin families, apparently even more so. I think a crucial part of Lucanis’s character is that he values his family so strongly. He no longer resents Caterina for how she raised him and Illario. He is unwilling to kill Illario, even though Illario made it clear that he would not have spared Lucanis in return. Because they are cousins who were more like brothers, and that means something to Lucanis. After all, as one of the notes found in his mind prison says, “So few of us left…”

-----

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[kitthenameless]

It's Omeluum time! And by that I mean, let's talk about some of the things many people don't seem to know about Omeluum and some of the things that commonly come up when people compare it to the Emperor.

(As far as I know, Om exclusively uses it/its, so that's what I'll use.)

One way in which the two illithids differ is that the Emperor doesn't have the same choices or opportunities as Omeluum to escape elder brains. He's a lot more at risk of being controlled again. Om just happened to be lucky enough to be born with magic that helped it.

Omeluum then worked with a lich. The Emperor eats criminals, and though we can't be sure that's all he's ever eaten, there is evidence in the game to support his claim. Did Om and its lich friend try to stick to criminals? We don't know. But even if they did, that still makes Om equal with the Emperor in that regard. And if they didn't, well, if Om felt like it couldn't stop the lich, maybe it figured this was at least less waste. Or maybe it didn't care either way. The point being, I wouldn't call this any more ethical than what the Emperor has been doing. (I'm not arguing about the ethics of eating brains in general, just that Om's choice is not ethically better than the Emperor's.)

After it tells you about that, Omeluum then ominously says it now eats people who "act against the Society's goals." It even pauses to carefully consider its words, and the words it chooses leave a lot of leeway and room for interpretation. (Such an underrated line and delivery. I love it.) Technically YOU are acting against the Society's goals if you refuse to give the gith egg to Esther, since it's the Society that wants the egg.

Omeluum sees itself as part of illithid-kind in a way the Emperor doesn't, using terms like "we" and "our" when talking about them, even referring to illithids as its ancestors after you tell it about the nautiloid.

Omeluum seems detached and more curious than anything about your problem and the whole situation, at least when you first meet it. But that's speculation, I can't say for sure what it's feeling.

It does however eventually realize that this brain taking over would be a bad thing for the entire plane. Which is in part why it is willing to die in order to save the Duke in the Iron Throne. This makes sense from a ruthlessly pragmatic standpoint---the Duke's life is more important for the city---and pragmatism is a very mind flayer thing (though I still can't imagine a typical mind flayer enthralled to a brain would think another race's life is worth more than its own). Omeluum is willing to risk or sacrifice in some scenarios to achieve its goals. The Emperor is also willing to risk his life in some scenarios to achieve his goals, like going with you directly into battle to fight the brain. Neither wants the Grand Design to actually happen.

And that ring it gives you (or rather makes you pay it for in some form, unless you persuade it otherwise)? It lied about that. But it did so for what it felt was a good reason, just like how the Emperor withholds info and lets you discover some things for yourself, in order to not overwhelm you and make you lose hope.

Ultimately, Omeluum gives you some elixirs or whatever if you save it and then gets out of town and lets someone else deal with the nether brain problem. Om is a scientist, not a fighter. Just like the Emperor is not a scientist and hence isn't trying to create a brain substitute the way Om is. They each have their strengths.

Last but not least (actually it is sort of least), Omeluum won't trade with you unless you do its quest first, which I find more annoying than anything the Emperor does 😅 And it doesn't give you the aforementioned reward until you help it in Act 3. Which wouldn't normally be a valid argument, but people say the Emperor is evil because he won't help you unless you help him. Well, Omeluum won't either.

But I did laugh at these few lines I found, though I'm not entirely sure it was being funny on purpose.

And we don't really know anything about Omeluum beyond that.

Anyway, my point is only that the constant comparison between it and the Emperor with the conclusion that "Omeluum = Good Mind Flayer, Emperor = Bad Mind Flayer" doesn't hold up in any meaningful way and lacks nuance, especially when there's so much misinformation. (If I've gotten any facts wrong, feel free to let me know, I don't want to add to the misinformation.) Neither one is a typical mind flayer, and we can love them both!

[utilitycaster]

I feel like the way I think about Ludinus Da'leth is like...the Anti-Vespin. There's the basic actions they performed - both unleashed something long-sealed, but Vespin Chloras intended to destroy what he perceived to be a sealed danger, and Ludinus is using Predathos as a weapon. However, what strikes me is how the two of them have acted so far towards other mortals rather than the existential threats they've tangled with.

I suspect Ludinus is bringing in Bells Hells not because he expects them to join him, but because he really, really wants someone to validate his plan that is ultimately just a monument to his choice to wallow and make Exandria worse for it. No one likes him. He's not Ruidusborn; he can't commune with the Weave Mind and the Reilora the way others can. Liliana is in pretty deep but she's wavering, Zathuda resents him (and it seems to be mutual) and Otohan's dead. The Assembly is crumbling and the Empire's not doing well either, and the world has to an extent united against him.

Vespin chose, in his brief moment of clarity after he had unleashed the Betrayers and lost himself, to do what he could to improve Zerxus's lot, expressed anguish and remorse for his actions and his legacy, and said that he hoped the Ring of Brass would be given more grace by history. He was willing to accept the title of villain, despite being something much more complicated, because in the end he understood that giving the world a chance to survive was far more important than clearing his own name.

Ludinus, on the other hand, is fighting against historical strawmen. His resentment towards the gods is just that: a burning resentment. He could have left his mark by rebuilding post-Divergence Exandria. Instead, his legacy is one of rot, war, hatred, and corruption, from Molaesmyr to the War of Ash and Late to the Bloody Bridge. He could have been an architect of the modern age for the better. He could have tried to revive Aeorian magic and culture, and, as I've discussed, potentially even the people. He instead focused only on a centuries-long goal of destruction out of sheer spite.

Vespin was willing to shoulder any insult, deserved or not, for the rest of eternity because he understood it was less important than doing whatever he could in the few moments he had to mitigate harm. Ludinus is willing to destroy anything to retaliate for an insult.

Ludinus is livid about being robbed of an age he never got to see by the gods; and quite possibly, with the destruction of Molaesmyr, killed some of its last survivors outside exceptions such as himself. He claims to hate the gods' uneven blessings yet his alliance - and reliance - on Ruidusborn sorcerers has always made it clear that was a lie. And none of this will bring back the world he lost, and indeed, may very well set society back further.

He will tear everything apart out of hurt feelings and a desire to be correct when he could have left a shining legacy. It is the opposite of a heroic sacrifice; a petty, small self-destruction. I think he wants Bells Hells to tell him it was worth it. And I don't think they will.

[feukt-42]

Elden ring + Shadow of the Erdtree lore thoughts

Alright, so, first off, obviously, spoilers ahead.

I've been thoroughly enjoying and getting my ass kicked by SotE and what ive seen of the lore so i wanted to ramble about it.

I specifically wanted to talk about how Elden Ring explores power and godhood.

In the base game, godhood isnt seen as inherently bad. Marika's golden order is fucked up six ways to sunday, but the blame mainly rests on Marika's shoulders it seems. She's a genocidal homewrecking war-mongerer who threw two of her children in the sewers bc of racism, she's not a good god, but it doesnt portray the problem as her being a god, just her being a mess. The game provides several "solutions" to unfuck everything :

Ranni's ending has you completely throw the system in the trash. She says, fuck it, godhood's the problem, im out of here. She is kinda right, but the lands remain fractured and the power vacuum left behind is going to be immense. We're on the right track but could be better.

The frenzied flame ending is just pure concentrated nihilism so i think we can move past it for this one.

The bunch of other endings are fairly similar : you beat Marika/Radagon's ass and you impose yourself as Elden Lord to keep her in check and fix the issues you see as most important. This doesnt fix anything long-term, the god in power is still the exact same fucking mess but with a chaperone now i guess.

None of these endings are very satisfying, they all leave you with a sense of "it could be worse i guess" (except the frenzied flame one but you get the point). This is where Miquella comes in :

Everything we hear about Miquella sounds great. He's kind, compassionate, against racism, doesnt like violence, etc etc. Cherry on top, he's even one of the characters with a direct shot at godhood, brilliant ! Why cant we just put him in charge, he'll do much better than the absolute wreck we have right now.

And thats where the base game leaves us, Marika is a fucked up mess of a person, and the obvious solution is to put the much better Miquella in her place.

Shadow of the erdtree, on the other hands, aims to set the record straight. The problem wasnt just Marika, the problem is inherent to godhood in and of itself.

In SotE, we see the land of shadow, the realm where Marika came from and ascended to godhood, and the realm where Miquella intends to do the same. And the more we hear about who Marika was before in snippets of lore, and the more we watch Miquella tread the road to godhood, we realise something :

There is no such thing as a good god

It doesnt matter how kind and compassionate you were, what your morals were, who you loved, who you loathed, none of it matters because you cannot grasp the power to become a god without sacrificing who you were before.

In the dlc we see Miquella shed more and more of himself, his flesh, his arms, his eye, his heart, his doubts, his fears and even his love. Miquella has shorn so much of who he was that he formed an entire new person (St Trina) from it. Some of him remains, he still wishes for a kinder world, but he cant sacrifice anymore of himself for it. Now he has to start sacrificing others.

Miquella was always blessed with the ability to charm others, and he sees it as the least painful path to make others do as he wishes. And so he charms his sister, he charms Mohg, he charms Radahn, his followers, Leda, Moore, Thiollier, Freyja, the hornsent, Ansbach, and everyone he can convince to give themselves up for his dream of a kinder world, regardless of the pain they might cause or feel by being enthralled by him.

And oh boy do they feel pain. Mohg is used and discarded like a ragdoll, and his followers and dynasty slowly crumble to nothing as the last pureblood knight watches helplessly, himself entranced by the one responsible after he failed to kill him. Radahn's soul is shoved in a corpse so that he can play consort to a god that is his antithesis, depriving him of his glory and honour as lord of the battlefield. Malenia is left alone to rot after Miquella has no use or help for her, and she endlessly waits for her brother to return. Every one of Miquella's followers has to grapple with those feelings of betrayal, manipulation, and lost memories returning all at once. It is by no means painless.

And so we end up with a god that is not much better than Marika was. On his path to godhood, Miquella has caused as much pain to those along the way as his mother once did, in this very same land that still feels the scars of Marika's ascension.

The only way to gain power is to take it from everyone else, and that cannot be achieved without pain.

[hello-sweetheart]

Fame and Fortune

Do you dream of glory? Crowds of thousands all adoring beneath you. The roaring cheers echoing in the arena. Countless of small white lights held up like beacons creating a sea of waving stars all for you. Breathless exhilaration has your chest heaving, skin glistening and damn. To feel like a god: never ending, eternal.

What would you be willing to do to get it?

What are you willing to sacrifice for fame?

Who are you prepared to lose?

Could the love of millions be worth the love of one?

——

[Backstage: Corroded Coffin Global Tour-Los Angeles, Ca]

Eddie is pacing, more than just pre-show nerves numb his hands. His cigarette burns quickly, ash falling on the carpeted floor, but no amount of nicotine filled lungs will fix this. Gareth, his drummer and long time friend, is watching him pace, eyes pleading.

“Is it worth it, Eddie?

We all got what we wanted; why are we miserable? You can’t lie to me, we all feel it. I see it in everyone, even you! You haven’t been the same since—“ He receives a withering glare from the frontman and sighs, speaking softer.

“I miss mom and my little sister. It’s been so long since I’ve seen them… I’m no longer drawn in her crayon family portraits, did you know that? Does Anne even remember me, anymore?

How can you keep going like this and expect us to do the same? I’m grateful—I really am—for you. You got us where we are now, a fantasy that we never even dreamed would become reality. It was amazing, I’m glad I got to experience it all with you, but I’m tired. I’m so tired guys.

I just want to go home.”

The long drag he takes burns his throat,

“Look, we’re all tired, I get it. Really, I do, this tour has been… particularly grueling I’ll admit, but come on. This is our last show, the big finale! We’ll give them all we got and then we’ll be able to take a break to freshen up before doing what we do best: creating kick ass music.

Like always. You’ll feel better after this, we always do after the last show—“

Gareth cuts him off, his patience clearly stretched thin.

“No, Eddie, listen to me! It’s different this time. I’m happy with the money we’ve made, we all have enough to live comfortably and I’ve been thinking that, you know, it’s time to settle down. I can’t do that if I’m always working. This, the band, it doesn’t… it doesn’t make me happy anymore.”

Jeff stands and his imposing figure makes Eddie pause from wearing a path into the floor.

“He’s not the only one, man. Im sorry, but its killing me. We don’t expect you to give it up either, you can keep the band name, find new members, keep signing… But for us? We can’t keep going, man. This is the end of the line.”

‘Not him too. Fuck. Fuck!’

“No! What am I—I’ve given up too much for this, you can’t just, fucking, bail on me!” This band, playing with his friends, it’s become his entire world. He’s lost too much to get here.

“Woah, woah, hey! No one fucking told you to and you know it. We’ve always had your back no matter what, but anything you chose to do is on you. Not us. The least you could do is extend us the same fucking curtesy and respect the fact that we’re fucking done with this bullshit.”

His gaze is venom as he looks at band, Grant and ‘Freak’ silent but agreeing with the rest. They refuse to meet his gaze.

“Fine. Do whatever you want.” He turns and leaves. They’ll be starting in 15 minutes.

Fucking cowards. Ungrateful bastards.

A memory plays in his head. Brief and intrusive. The voice of someone long gone from his life rings in his mind.

“I’ve missed you, Ed. Are you done at the studio, yet? When are you coming home?”

“Steve, this is important. You know this. I’ll be pulling a few more all nighters here—this album has to be perfect, baby.”

A crackling sigh is barely audible through the phone.

“I know, I know. I’m just being selfish. I’m sorry. Miss waking up to you next to me.”

“Miss you too, baby. You’re my world you know. Love you more than anything.”

“More than music?” It’s a timid question.

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he’s the only one to laugh into the receiver.

“Right… night, Eddie.”

“Wait, Stev—“ fuck. It was only joke. Whatever, he’ll apologize tomorrow.

Right now, he has music history in the making.

[athenasdaydreams]

okay i should be studying for my bio final but i couldnt stop thinking of jj maybank asking kook!reader's parents for permission to marry you (still on s2 of outerbanks idk what happened after that....)

jj, at 23 years old, thinks its so archaic to ask your parents for permission to marry you. hes been thinking about it for months now. he would much rather pick you up and go over to a courthouse and get it done with. not a flashy type of guy. but, growing up rich, you had mentioned so many times about a dream wedding and who was he to deny his girl's wishes. youd mentioned it so many times, even going as far as sending him your wedding pinterest board after being inspired by sarah and john b's shotgun wedding (or rather in an effort to make sure jj didn't expect you guys to have a shotgun wedding).

sarah cameron wanted to be as much of a pogue as possible, while you were reluctant to give up your kook lifestyle of dior lipgloss and chanel handbags. that was exactly why after taking up a second job at the wreck, a loan from the bank, a third job cleaning some kook's boat, and another loan from the guy at the fishing store (he didnt know it yet but jj was sure he'd pay him back), jj stood outside your family's mansion with a gold band tucked in his back pocket, and some pictures of some houses he was looking at, ready on his phone. he felt like he'd been standing out there for hours. 'now or never, maybank,' he mumbled as he wiped his hands on his old faded blue jeans which had been paired with pope's white button up, knocking on the door.

the woman who opened up the door looked exactly like you, just about 40 years older. 'evening mrs l/n, i'm jj maybank, your granddaughter's boyfriend.'

after giving him a scrutinising once over, she said 'she's not here,' and attempted to close the door. jj made sure to tell her that he wanted to talk to your parents about something important, and she somewhat reluctantly let him in.

your mother was sitting on the couch, reading the latest edition of vogue (something he could picture you doing a few years in the future) while your father had presumably just gotten back from work, enjoying some expensive looking drink while talking to his wife about his day.

'mr and mrs l/n?'

both of them whipped their heads around and looked towards jj.

'jonathan?'

he was regretting ever telling you his full name, more so regretting letting you introduce him to your parents like that, during that one horrible dinner that ended with you and your mom crying and your dad and jj almost killing each other. as time passed, they stopped hating him so much, but some resentment remained.

'uh, jj is fine. listen, i gotta talk to you guys about something'

'you didn't get her pregnant did you?!' your father stood up, trying to intimidate him. what for, he didn't know.

'NO no i didn't! i promise!!' he said as he stood in front of them, reaching into his back pocket. 'I came here to ask for your permission to marry your daughter.' your mom looked like she was about to have a stroke and your dad was about to protest.

'listen, before you guys say anything, i want you to know that your daughter was the best thing to ever happen to me. i love her more than anything in the world and i would sacrifice everything, including my own life for her. i know you guys think i don't have the means to support her or give her the life she deserves and i agree. i'll never be able to give her the life she truly deserves but that doesn't mean i'll try. i've taken up 2 more jobs to buy her this ring and save up for a house- its really nice by the way, i have some photos-and i would take up all the jobs in the world just to give her the life she wants. so please, please let me marry your daughter,' jj said in what felt like one breath.

your father was shocked and your emotional mother was on the verge of tears.

"jj?"

at the sound of your voice, jj turned around to be met with your confused face. "i didn't know we had plans today... and why're you dressed like that?"

he turned to your father, who gave him the slightest nod, signalling him to approach you.

"i had a whole thing planned to do this, with dinner and candles 'n shit, but i feel like if i dont do this now im going to explode."

"jj, what do you mean? you're scaring me." you looked at him with concern, the poor boy looked like he was about to pass out.

he got onto one knee and held out the ring he had bought for you.

"from the moment I first saw you, I knew you were something special. you were unlike anyone else I’ve ever met. And now, standing here in front of you…I’m pretty damn sure that i wouldn't wanna spend my life with anyone but you."

your vision started blurring from the tears in your eyes.

"will you marry me?"

[aritsukemo]

Get it together, idiot! | Yuichiro Tokito

Student Council President Yuichiro Tokito x GN Reader

Summary: After Yuichiro's secret is accidentally outted by Muichiro, his twin is determined to fulfill a fantasy of his; getting him and his crush into a relationship together!

Warnings: None. This story is on the longer side so I'll add a cut!

A/N: I'm sooo glad I was finally able to finish this!! >.< I actually started writing this sometime in the summer after getting inspired by an adorable short story game made by Ekkoberry called "Just Kiss Him Already!". I played it for free and downloaded it from itch.io, but if you guys go and check it out ( especially if you like the game as much as I did ), I def recommend giving them a couple of dollars along with your download to further support them! 🥰

Part One | Part Two

Taglist: @nursedflowers / @drluvsick

Class ended with the chime of the bell after what felt like forever. The incessant ringing woke you from your nap just in time to hear your teacher remind everyone of the test tomorrow. You drawl out a groan. Right, you were instructed to go over the notes you took during class last week over the weekend so that you'd be prepared. Alas, it had completely slipped your mind. Not that you had any notes to study to begin with.

Slowly, you lift your face, promptly wiping at your cheek which had been covered in slob. You grimace, realizing you also managed to get some on your desk too..

At the sacrifice of your poor sleeve, you wiped up the spit and packed your bag—being slow with your movements as you got up, stretched, and slung the bag over your shoulder. By this time, the classroom had emptied out. Not even the slackers of your class remained which only served as a silent reminder of how late you'll be to your next class for just now leaving the classroom.

Sliding the classroom door open and walking out felt like you were entering a new world. Unlike the previous world that was confined and held a comfortable silence aside from the yammering of your teacher and the students struggling to keep up, this new world was much noisier and way more crowded.

The hallway was always like that with the afflux of both high school and middle schoolers alike speeding to get to their class, skip their classes, meet up with friends before classes, and..yeah, you get it.

To put it frankly, you didn't like the school hallways. Horrible place to snooze.

There was another reason you hated the school hallways. A certain person, as beautiful as he was, always made your two to three minute experience in the hallways all the more insufferable. The beauty in question was a rather important figure in this school as he held the esteemed position as president of Kimetsu Academy's Student Council. Even if that presidency title only accounted for the middle school half of the academy, the amount of responsibility one would have to juggle to sustain their seat is immense.

Maybe that's why the beauty in question, Yuichiro Tokito, was always so snarky when he spoke to you.

"There you are!" Speak of the devil. As if you had summoned him by merely thinking about him for a fraction of a second, Yuichiro emerges from the sea of students. The frown on his face is evident which matches the dip in his brows.

He was obviously irked, that much was obvious. But it didn't cause much of a reaction from you as it was an expression you were forced to get used to.

"What took you so long?" He snapped at you before even making it up to you. Wow, you must've really pissed him off this time, you thought. That thought would've been followed up by an eye roll, but doing that would cost a lot of energy that you just don't have right now.

"Are you trying to ruin my attendance so that I look like some joke? I know you want someone to join you in your underachieving boat, but I, for one, don't," He says, stopping right in front of you—probably so that you can see his glare up close. All it did was allow you the opportunity to gaze at his gorgeous minty hues while they gleam unintentionally under the school's annoyingly bright lights.

"If you care so much about that stuff, why don't you just go to class? I mean.." You cut yourself off, your hand coming up to cover your mouth that had started to hang open as you yawned loudly. You decide to continue after a while, your voice dipped by your drowsiness, "I mean, you don't have to wait around for me and walk with me to class."

"You say that as if I have a choice in the matter," He immediately responds, his arms crossing over his chest as those pretty mint green eyes of his finally relieve you by darting away, "As president, it's one of my jobs to make sure all students are in class and accounted for, that includes the slackers like you."

"Is it really? That sounds more like a job for a secretary or something."

"And once again, you have proven just how stupid you actually are," During the entirety of this lovely exchange, there has been someone third wheeling. That someone is none other than Yuichiro's twin brother and also the vice president of the student council, Muichiro Tokito—although, he'd prefer not to be reminded of the title seeming as it was forced onto him by his brother after he became president.

Unlike Yuichiro, Muichiro always had this sort of blank look on his face. As if he was a walking corpse, there wasn't a single light or flicker of any kind of emotion swirling in his minty pupils. Furthermore, he never seemed to show his emotions on his face like his elder brother did and you'd only really be able to tell how he's feeling by picking apart his tone whenever he speaks. It's what sets him apart from his twin which always made you wonder how some people couldn't tell the difference between them when they had such obviously contrasting characteristics.

"We should get to class. The bell will ring soon," Muichiro also wasn't a boy of many words, or at least, not in settings like this. Having the honor of being one of his close friends, there have been many times where Muichiro has rambled on to you or someone else in your friend group about something that's interested him. Whether that'd be video games or manga or even his hobby of origami folding.

Despite his voice not being the loudest, it was still able to be heard by Yuichiro's attentive ears. He halts, and you could tell he had another insult heavy on his tongue that was just begging to be thrown at you. Thankfully, it never leaves his lips as Yuichiro decides to drop the whole conversation, turn on his heel, and walk in the direction of your next class.

And like always, he turns back around after realizing you weren't moving, latched both hands onto your arm, and yanked you along..

You made it to class within mere minutes thanks to the twins speed-walking and maneuvering skills. It was truly unfortunate, you thought as you stared at the door that lead to hell—panting slightly due to having to run so that you weren't dragged through the halls by the arm.

There was a plate above the door, the kanji reading the numbers of the classroom you had since memorized and had made yourself believe were the cursed writing of the devil, but you suppose going that far would be a little dramatic.

But for a class as bad as biology which was taught by the locally feared Obanai Iguro, the dramatics were necessary in your eyes.

Muichiro, being the brave warrior that he was, didn't hesitate to slide the door open and walk inside. Yuichiro was to follow, but you were more hesitant. In the end, though, you were dragged in just as the bell chimed throughout the halls..

Lunch time takes forever to approach but eventually does with another chime of the bell. Unlike during morning classes, slackers and excelling students alike rushed either out of class or across the room to clique up with their friends to chat.

Yuichiro didn't seem to fit either bill, going about packing his things at a more average pace and all while his eyes remained glued to the front of the classroom where Y/n sat at the front of class before their masked teacher.

They had once again got caught dozing off and, although Mr. Iguro was merciful enough not to strap them to one of his rockets this time, he thought it'd be fitting to use the lunch period to reteach all the material he went over in class.

His view of Y/n is suddenly blocked and Yuichiro blinks, as if snapping out of a trance. He looks over at the culprit and his face is what he's met with. Muichiro gestures to the door, silently asking him if he's ready to go, and Yuichiro nods.

Like Y/n, Yuichiro would also be skipping lunch, albeit his reason isn't because he was dumb enough as to try and nap in class. No, he'd never. It was actually because he had some business to attend to in the Student Council room.

..And so, slinging his bag over his shoulder, he and his twin waltz right past the desk there friend was sitting at and walks out of the classroom, not sparing them so much as a glance of pity. Maybe Muichiro did, but certainly not Yuichiro.

Upon entering the janitor's closet they had a nerve to call a student council room, Yuichiro's met with the sight of burgundy hair and a large stack of paper work. His twin is met with the same, but his reaction is much more visibly positive than his; a large smile beginning to split across Muichiro's face—an otherwise foreign expression for everyone aside from a select few people to see.

"Hey, Tanjiro! We're here!" Muichiro barely managed to spit out as he made quick strides over to the older boy..

"Sorry if we kept you waiting."

Tanjiro looks up to meet his gaze, a friendly smile already etched on his face, "Don't worry, I just got here myself."

"Thanks again for offering to help us out with this. At first, I felt bad since you'd miss lunch because of us, but Yui' woke up early this morning and made all of us homemade lunches!"

"Didn't I tell you not to call me that while we're at school?" Yuichiro grumbled as he walked up to one of the four desks they pushed together and called a meeting table and sat his bag down.

"Sorry.." His younger twin apologized and he nods as he took a seat besides Tanjiro, grabbing a couple of papers from the top of the pile and immediately taking notice of the neatly-written characters that spelt out 'Archery Club'.

The school festival was fast approaching and since many people who were to attend the festival will be news anchors, popular alumni, and either elementary schoolers, middle schoolers, or high schoolers looking to become apart of the academy the following year, everybody wanted their time to shine and show off their clubs in order to attract more members and attention.

And as one of two of the presidents of the student council, it was Yuichiro's priority to go over each and every request and idea and either approve or disapprove of it. There was also the task of deciding which of the sports teams should get the spotlight this year, interesting games that would interest the majority, and food—the last two having to fit very closely with this year's theme.

Basically, it was all one, big headache. Not that Yuichiro wasn't used to headaches with having to deal with stuff like on top of having to constantly interact with that annoying fanclub that formed soon after he was appointed to be president..

Spreading out the papers on the desk, Yuichiro's eyes skimmed through each one before suddenly pausing, choosing a form he just knew he'd reject.

Yeah, that's how he'll go through this stack. He'll get rid of the obvious rejects before focusing on the remaining clubs he'll have to put more thought into.

"So, what's the name of the theme this year?" Tanjiro questioned, his eyes never leaving the paper infront of him as his eyes slowly took in each word on the otherwise blank sheet of paper.

"The name is still being decided by the upperclassmen, but the theme itself was chosen to be centered around Valentine's Day since the festival will fall on that day," Muichiro explains cheerfully—a stark contrast to his movements which are harsh as he ruthlessly crushes a paper in his hand and tosses it in the trash bin in the corner of the room.

Who knows what kind of rubbish was on that paper to gain that kind of reaction.

"I'm hoping that it'll give Yui' the courage to finally- Ow!" At the harsh bump that sounds through the room, Tanjiro's eyes immediately leave the paper.

He looks up, blinking almost owlishly at the sight of Muichiro now being hunched over and visibly gritting his teeth. His hands, which were previously sorting papers, were now slapped over his knee and the scrunched up expression made it obvious of how much pain he was suddenly in. Yuichiro, who Muichiro was sitting across from, was staring his younger brother down with a glare that would make even Mr. Shinazugawa shrink into himself. It made Tanjiro's own expression scrunch up out of confusion of what he just missed.

"Enough idle chatter. We need to get these forms sorted out and decide who our top picks are before lunch is over," Yuichiro said, but his gaze never left Muichiro and his tone dared the younger twin to speak another word. Alas, Muichiro, being as fearless as he is, spoke anyways.

"You could've just said that instead of kicking me.." He grumbled, visibly pouting while rubbing his knee. The comical sight helped Tanjiro gain the courage to ask, "Why would you need courage to do anything, Yuichiro? And what does that have to do with Valentine's Day?"

"It's none of your—" "It's because he's had a crush on our classmate Y/n for forever now!"

Silence filled the room. Well, not immediately since the papers that had slipped from Yuichiro's suddenly still hands had made a loud, wavy whoosh as they glided to the floor.

Tanjiro's eyes were wide, cheeks dusted a light pink from the shocking news. Muichiro kept glancing at his brother, eyeing his reaction and waiting for his surprise to die down so that he could determine whether he needed to run for his life or not.

And at last, Tanjiro decided to speak up and quell the quietness, "You..have a crush on Y/n, Yuichiro? As in Y/n L/n?" Tanjiro wasn't particularly close with them, but there were times where they'd stop by the bakery. They were pleasant to talk, albeit a bit overly relaxed in his opinion. Tanjiro would've never imagined someone like Yuichiro would fall for someone like that..

"Yuichiro likes senpai?"

Muichiro and Tanjiro turn in unison at the sound of someone entering the room, both of which already aware of who it is before they're able to see them. Sure enough, it was the youngest member of the council, Senjuro Rengoku, who the twins completely forgot was coming in today to fill in for their classmate Makomo, who's been at home sick for the past couple of days.

Great. Just fucking perfect. It was bad enough that his brother blabbed to one of their upperclassmen about this, but now one of their underclassmen knows to? And of course it had to be the one who possibly interacts with Y/n the most!

This was all too much to handle. He was just supposed to be going through forms today. Possibly going on to write down a few of his ideas for entertainment for the festival before having the lunch he made for himself where he may or may not be interrupted by a student in need of his assistance with something. A secret he swore to take to the grave being outed by none other than his twin brother was not something that should've happened. Ever.

As the gears began turning in his head once again after momentarily being shut off, Yuichiro was dragged back to reality and as soon as he was, he stands to his feet. The rest of the papers in his hand are quickly tossed onto the desk haphazardly and everyone there watched as he pushes past Muichiro and speedwalks out of the room without a word, head hung low..

Muichiro had to walk home alone that evening—something he hasn't done in years.

Yuichiro had went home early, deciding to skip their shared afternoon activities at the shoji club which, understandably, concerned many members. After all, Yuichiro has never missed a day like that, not even when he was swamped with work from classes and the student council.

His absence made Muichiro's heart sink in his chest. He knew he messed up today, but he never expected it would be to this degree..

Muichiro made it home later than he usually did. The orangish pink blush of the evening sky that he always loved to look at had disappeared and had been replaced by the starry blue sky he liked just a little less. He walks up the stony path that led up to the front door of his home, slowly reaching out to grab the doorknob, twist it, open the door, and walk in..

His father was the first one to greet him. His burgundy eyes closing as he presents his son a wide smile. Muichiro took it in slowly. It took him a while to notice, but his father and Tanjiro had a lot in common—their smiles especially.

Maybe that's why he always acts so..childish when the boy's around. He's come to realize that maybe that childishness was part of why he made the mistake he did today..

"Welcome home, Muichiro," His dad greeted as he stood up from where he was sitting at the dining table, walking up to his son. His larger hand coming up to the boy's smaller head and ruffling his hair gently.

"I'll be honest, you don't usually get home this late so I was scared something happened. Especially since Yuichiro came back so early," He said, his relief so clearly etched on his face.

That's another thing Muichiro noticed about his dad. Just like Tanjiro, he could tell just what he was thinking and how he was feeling simply by looking at his face. They were both so easy to read. Not that he found that a bad thing.

"Did something happen today?" He heard his mother ask. He turned to look, and there she was, cooking at the stove.

"I noticed that Yuichiro seemed upset earlier. I assumed that it had something to do with the shoji club cancelling, but since you're coming home so late.." As she transfers the food in the pots to the plates on the counter, Muichiro notices the way her brows scrunched. It was obvious that she was worried. He didn't like seeing that look on her face as it made her look almost as if she was in pain.

"Nothing serious happened," Muichiro quickly said, "It's just some things that happened today regarding the student council. No need to worry."

Technically he wasn't lying. The whole ordeal did in fact happen in the student council room because of him, who is a student council member. He just wasn't giving them the full story. That's not lying. Hiding the whole truth, possibly. But it certainly wasn't lying. He'd never lie to his parents.

"I see.. I hope they aren't being too hard on him.." His mother said. She then sighes as if she was huffing out her anxiety, before finally smoothening out her expression and flashing Muichiro a smile, "But I'm not too worried anymore then. After all, I trust that you'll look after your older brother," Muichiro had to refrain from wincing aloud. Her words, although delicate and full of care, felt like sharp knives tha ran straight through his heart with the situation at hand.

With his heart bleeding out in his chest, Muichiro watched as his mother walked up to him with a plate in both her hands and slid them into his own.

"Yuichiro hasn't left his room since he's arrived home so I guess whatever's going on with the student council must really be getting to him. With that said, do you think you could talk to him? Give him his dinner too?" She gently requested, and how could he possibly refuse her?

With a nod of his head, he was already making his way out of the kitchen and over to the stairs. He's quick, making it up the steps in under a minute and speedwalking down the hall where, luckily, the door was cracked. Thank goodness. He didn't feel like putting one of these plates down just to open the door..

The door to their shared room opens with a small creak that Muichiro doesn't take much mind to as he walks into the room. Upon entering, the loud scratching of wood against paper is evident and draws him to their desk where his twin was hunched over.

Yuichiro had a pencil in hand which was swinging back in forth a little every time he wrote a letter or a number or whatever he was writing. Muichiro didn't care much for the specifics. Right now, he had a goal he need to accomplish and that was to amend for his mistake today.

"Hey, Yui," He started off gentle. Deciding to take a page from his mother's book and using her soft tone as he approached him, "I brought you dinner."

Yuichiro doesn't respond nor does he spare his younger brother a glance even when he sets his plate on the desk which produces a loud clanking sound against the wood. It makes Muichiro frown as he realizes that his brother was using his least favorite tactic to use whenever Muichiro did something to upset him; the silent treatment.

This is going to be way harder than he wants it to be..

"About earlier, I want you to know that I'm really sorry. I only meant to tease a little and I never meant for that conversation to go down the way it did.." There we go, Muichiro. A simple apology paired with a sincere, remorseful tone gets his parents every time he gets in trouble! Yuichiro stands no chance against a combo like that!

..Or so he thought. After saying that, Yuichiro lips remained sealed. Unlike other times, where he'd at least scoff or grumble under his breath, Muichiro's heartfelt apology got absolutely no reaction from his twin. As if he wasn't even there, Yuichiro kept his back turned and continued writing in silence. He pauses for a moment, but only to flip the page of the textbook on the other side of him.

"Yui', are you listening? I said I'm sorry."

"I'll never do something like that again. Promise."

"Tanjiro's pretty trustworthy and I can always talk to Senjuro so if you're worried about Y/n or anyone else finding out, don't be. I'll make sure they never tell a soul."

Silence. Wow, he must've really did himself in this time. Muichiro's shoulders droop as the thick, looming feeling of defeat fills his chest like oil. How is he supposed to get himself out of this pit his brother's put him in if he won't listen to a word he says?

And then it clicks. He just has to find a way to get him to listen! With a sudden plan forming, Muichiro takes quick strides over to his nightstand where he sets his plate down and walks back over to the desk..and flicks Yuichiro's pencil out of his hand.

Yuichiro freezes just as Muichiro expected he would. After all, it's common knowledge that, although the president's brain works a mile a minute, his reaction time is slower than a turtle's whenever he's surprised. It's a little mean to use this against him, but he has to make sure he listens to his next words!

With that said, he reaches over and grabs his textbook, closing it and slipping it under his armpit before slipping the paper away from up under his hands.

Yuichiro stares down at the now clear desk for a while before everything finally sets in and he found his brows dipping and scrunching up and his eyes twitching from irritation. He was like the physical embodiment of a ticking bomb right now and the last thing Muichiro wanted was to be anywhere near him when he finally explodes.

And so, while praying that the situation will diffuse itself by him saying this, Muichiro blurts out, "I'll get you and Y/n together!"

Tick. Tick. Tick. Yuichiro pauses again, but it doesn't last nearly as long as the first time nor does it seem to quell his anger one bit. He gets up, and Muichiro finds himself moving the textbook in front of his chest and backing away.

"Stop saying stupid things and give me my stuff back before I—!"

"I'm serious!" Muichiro cuts off, "If you're willing to forgive me and give it a chance, I promise I'll help get you and Y/n into a relationship!"

"Muichiro," Yuichiro grits his teeth. He despised whenever his brother got like this, "Give me my stuff back. Now."

"I will if you just hear me out—!" A knock on the door rings throughout the room and both boys fall silent. Glances are exchanged between them—Muichiro seemed especially confused as he looked over to his older twin for answers.

But his unspoken questions are not answered by Yuichiro, but instead by the sound of their father's voice, "You two alright in there? Me and your mom heard noises and screaming from downstairs and were wondering what was going on."

"We're fine, dad," Yuichiro quickly replied. As mad as he was, he didn't want his parents to be brought into this and making this a bigger thing than it's worth. Muichiro seemed to be on the same page because he followed up with, "Yeah, don't worry! We're just..uhm, playing video games!"

Yuichiro's head turned to his brother, making a face as to silently say 'really?'. After all, when was the last time Muichiro seen him touch a console? His brother gestures at him as if saying, 'Just go with it'.

There's silence on the other side of the door initially and the next time their father's voice is heard, it's doused in confusion and slight disbelief, "Er- Really?" Yuichiro rolls his eyes, even their father knew how farfetched it seemed.

"Well..what are you guys playing?"

"Ah- Legend of Zelda," And this time, it's Muichiro's turn to look at Yuichiro strange because..really? When has he ever seen him play something like that? Yuichiro urges his brother to just go with it.

"Sounds like fun! Well- Alright! I won't bother you two anymore then. You two should get back to your game, but don't stay up too late!" Their father says and they both reply in unison, "Alright!"

Silence is kept between the twins as they careful listen, both of them taking their own breaths of relief when they finally hear the distinct patter of their father's footsteps retreating from the door.

..And as soon as those footsteps fade, Yuichiro snatches his textbook and paper out of Muichiro's hands. Muichiro open his mouth to protest as he begun to trail after him only for Yuichiro to speak first.

"This conversation is over. Just eat your food and get ready for bed."

"No!" Muichiro yells only to immediately cringe at both the volume of his voice and the glare Yuichiro shoots at him after he shouted.

"No.." He repeats, this time much softer, "I won't. Not until you agree to work with me on this."

"I thought you just wanted me to forgive you?" Yuichiro questioned as he reopened his textbook and set it down at an angle on the desk, "Look, I forgive you, alright? You've got what you wanted so just drop this already."

"Come on, Yui'. You've liked them ever since we met them in elementary school. Aren't you tired of pinning after them? I'm tired of watching you do it so I know you must be exhausted."

"Muichiro. Shut. Up."

"Don't you want to hold their hand? A- And go on dates with them? Don't you want them giving you stuff for Valentine's Day instead of those people from your fanclub?" Muichiro continues anyways, a smile beginning to grow on his face as the moon shines down on him through their window, making the optimism shining in his eyes all the more apparant. Yuichiro notices out of his perhphral vision, but tries his best to pay it no mind.

"If you don't act, they'll never know and you'll spend the rest of your years in school sad and regretful that you never took the chance. Or worse! What if they end up falling for someone that's not you and they get into..a..relationship."

A sharp sigh from Yuichiro has Muichiro's suddenly enthusatic rambles trail off to a stop. No words are exchanged for a moment and Muichiro begins bracing himself for the inevitable screaming and snapping..but it never comes.

Not a scream or a irritated rant leaves his brother's lips, not even onece. It's surprising, but that surprise is quickly overwhelmed by a different kind of surprised that's caused as he watches Yuichiro prop his head up against his fist, his face growing an uncharacteristic shade of red.

"Okay, I get it.." He mumbles. He glances over to his brother out of his phrephial vision before suddenly growing too bashful to even do that and adverts his gaze.

"I'll.. I'll give it a shot. Just..stop saying embarrassing things and leave me alone for the rest of the night."

Muichiro beamed, his smile returning as he nodded his head, "Deal!"

That following morning during their walk to school, Yuichiro had gave his brother a deadline. He's willing to cooperate with any sensible plan he comes up with until the day of the festival. Muichiro found that reasonable. After all, that gave him a full month which is more than enough time in his eyes!

..Is what he would like to say. Using the rest of the walk to think, Muichiro had come to realize the most inconvenient thing by the time he reached the school gates; he has zero idea of what to do. After all, Muichiro's never had a crush on anyone.

Hmph, guess he'll need some help..and what better help is there than Tanjiro, the best upperclassmen in all of Kimetsu Academy?

Unfortunately, Tanjiro was just as clueless on the subject as he was..

"Sorry, Muichiro, but I never had a crush on someone," Was his exact words when he asked him at lunch. However, his response did catch the attention of the others at the table.

"Why are you asking anyways?" The archer prodigy himself, Genya Shinazugawa, asked. His question spurred on the blonde beside him, who gasped dramatically as if realizing something.

"Do you have a crush on someone? Are you going to put those looks of yours to use at last? Finally! It's honestly infuriating that you waited so long with how many girls are fawning after you!" The boy shrieked Muichiro has to bite back a mean 'Shut it' that forms on his tongue upon hearing that. He can't be mean, Tanjiro doesn't like it when he's rude towards people..

So, even though the older male deserves the venom pooling in his mouth, he keeps it walled off behind his lips and shakes his head.

"I don't have a crush on anyone. It's for someone else," He states. A mistake on his part, an easily avoidable one at that. One by one, he watches his answer reach everyone's ears. They all turn—well, everyone except Inosuke, who found his meal much more important than the discussion at hand.

"Who is it?" Genya asked, "Is it someone we know?" Kanao nodded along, silently wondering the same. Zenitsu gasps again, but this time, he turns to the pink-eyed beauty that sat across from him.

"Is it you, Nezuko..?" He drawled, his voice pitching to a point that it made Muichiro cringe immediately upon hearing it. Nevertheless, Nezuko didn't seem to mind it. As she stuffs a piece of bread in her mouth and began to chew, she simply cocks her head to the side.

Zenitsu squeals. Muichiro's urge to stuff his lunch down his throat increases.

"Whoever Muichiro is talking about, I'm sure it isn't Nezuko," Tanjiro jumped in, his brows scrunching together in disdain, "And you shouldn't pry either! I'm sure whoever it is wouldn't..want.."

Tanjiro's words slow as his lips come to a stop. His eyes began to widen, and as the realization struck him, his face changed to match it. Looking as if he just watched lightning strike a tree.

It had only just dawned on him who Muichiro was referring to. It's truly unfortunate that it seems like everyone else had caught onto his realization before Muichiro could say something to direct their attention away from him.

"Tanjiro," Zenitsu said, voice suddenly deepening, "Do you know who it is?" And Muichiro finds himself gritting his teeth as Tanjiro stammers out his response, his face already beginning to twist and contort..

"W- What? No! I dont- I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Liar!" Zenitsu screeches, pointing his finger at his best friend, "You're making that dumb lying face!"

"I- I'm not making a face!" Tanjiro shouts back and this time, Zenitsu gets up and zips over to where Tanjiro sits, immediately clasping his hands around his neck, squeezing down as he began to shake him violently.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" He screeches, eyes wide like a bug's, "I know your lying face when I see it! Now, tell me who has a crush and if that crush is Nezuko so I can deal with them!"

"Hey! Chill dude!" Genya reaches to intervene only to immediately get punched dead in his nose with lighning speed. A small, surpise yelp leaves Kanao's lips as she gets up, crossing the table and over to Genya, who's blood was everywhere from his nose now.

Meanwhile, Zenitsu yells, his voice booming and soaring across the large cafeteria, "Don't give me that! This is a serious matter! A serious offense deserving a thousand deaths!"

"Hey, are we boxin'?" Inosuke said. His wide grin revealing his teeth, which are stained with the food he has yet to fully chew and swallow.

At this point, half of the cafeteria was staring at them. Most leaned over and whispered to their friend next to them while others, ones who found the sight more common, quickly stopped caring and turned back to their lunch and or conversations. It was irritating—everything about this was.

But it's fine. Everything is still okay as long as—

"It's..ack..Yuichiro..! He likes Y/n..!" Muichiro's face pales as that choked confession falls from his upperclassmen's lips.

Zenitsu pauses. In fact, everyone at the table does albeit for Inosuke, who went back to eating.

All of their faces held similar expression of shock which held strong, shaped silence until Genya decided to break it.

"I- Is that really true?" He questions, voice lowered for the sake of keeping this damming secret at the confines of this table. He then turns to his tutor—who's face was slacked from disbelief.

"Tokito, did you know? Is that why you asked Tanjiro.." He trails off, his face darkening in color as he finds his own thoughts too flustering to say a loud at this point—or maybe it was because he's just now realized that Kanao's leaned against his back, her soft hand cupping his face as her other hand wipped at his nose with a napkin.

Either way, his question spurred everyone on to turn to Muichiro for answers.

He was stuck, like a cornered animal. And it was a due to his forgetfulness. His own foggy brain that forgot that Tanjiro is a god awful liar.. And now, he has no other choice now that the truth is out. No lie or story could help him out of this situation..

All he can do now is pray. Pray that when this all gets back to Yuichiro, they'll both be at the one place he'll be safe; home. After all, Yuichiro can't kill him and bury his corpse with their parents around..

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[katyspersonal]

So, Ymir was full of shit or rather, lost his marbles! I've made some more SOTE progress!

1) So, first I was exploring the various corners I've missed (again, Val's advice since I was despairing to do anything but 'important' points gvghgb) Went in order!

2) I killed the second big red horned bear in this game! And before that, killed two Rune Bears with some success..? Still got hit hard, but I am finally learning to dodge roll properly! Most of it is rolling in, not away x)

It dropped an incantation that is like those dragon head ones.. but like, bear head one gfhhhg And there was another variant of Brave Set nearby (the clothes of bear-hunters)

3) Coincidentally, the very next guy was using this same incantation! It was sending a series of roars that knock the person off! AND he was in the last Mausoleum that I did want to find very much!

AND he also was a Redmane!! They have so many distinct friends of Radahn in this DLC xD

4) The next one was a forge and I was done with running across them orange woods. This is when I finally realized that the big rocky guys needed to be hit while back turned, in the weak spot on their backs, whereas I've been hitting them in the front this whole time... :^)

5) This guy would later become important:

So, they just freeze eventually? It kind of seems like eventual fate of all rock creatures I guess, since they can't age. There are Ancient Dragons in Farum Azula who are just walls now for one

I instantly had a feeling that this would be a good summon seeing how much damage and defence those guys had, and hoooo boy was I right!!

6) OKAY SO I finally did it! @fareehaandspaniards REJOYCE!!! Basically Metyr and Fingers predate Elden Ring/Beast, because it also was a shooting star and Metyr was the first:

I struggled with this boss as you remember, and wasn't even trying to go without summons but just couldn't find the right ones xd THIS guy though staggered her like two times letting me do critical, and lasted ungodly amount of time (until magic attack blasted him since rocks are wear to magic in this game)! But he was SO helpful?

So it was this guy causing ungodly stagger and me stabbing bleed with Mohg's spear jfghyj I also finally realized to NOT, no matter what, get myself caught on the side of her body ��� That attack with rapidly moving fingers from her side is NOT survivable nghgf If anyone here makes the same mistake: don't, just always face her.. face, lol

7) Also my idea confirmed! When I first saw this location, all watery and the giant "tubes" going from here to "above", I saw it like the giant fingers so it is some hammerspace version of womb water! Turned out the grace of this place marks location as Finger Birthing Grounds, so yeah!

8) My instant reflex was to go back to Manus Metyr! ...and I got attacked when I had hands full of runes because I forgot to spend them after the boss 🤡 I didn't die, but NEVER forget to level up lol

Jolan first attacked me as an invader, saying we've hurt Ymir so much that he now wished our death, and then Ymir was there as a boss (thankfully a weak one). ?? I was just sitting here like "wait a second, the whole operation was your idea?" because Ymir gave me the map here?

9) So, I started to think about it and recalling what happened before. His last map was captioned "May you join the glimmering stars above" which was sinister, but so was he so I didn't give it an extra thought back then! Now it does seem like he intended for us to not survive that encounter, like same sacrifice thing as with "meeting" Rykard, but there was more

Back when Anna attacked us, I assumed she was sort of enemy. I did tell Jolan about it, but her dialogue was vague:

I interpreted it as Anna getting on the way and Jolan implying that she will or will not kick her ass depending on what Ymir says. But oh boy, seems like I was wrong.. When you kill Anna, the text 'RECUSANT VANQUISHED' appears; the term reserved for Tarnished that hunt other Tarnished! So, knowing that Anna habitually kills people (her own?), and knowing that I was not supposed to kill Metyr despite being sent directly to her, Jolan's reaction to us telling about Anna can be seen as: 'Damn, I started to really like you, but turns out that Ymir wants to sacrifice you (?) and I can't speak against him so pretend that my ally did not try to kill you, okay? :/' but I wasn't aware just HOW right I was!

10) Turned out that Jolan also had the decision split between Iris of Grace (gives Spirit Ashes) and Iris of Occultation (gives her weapon)! Like it was with Queelign! Damn, they made SURE that people either replay this DLC or talk with other players for full lore x) Respect!

11) ALSO turned out that this whole time, there was a secret way to drop atop of the upper section of Rabbath Rise from Shaman Village, where you find a person in the same set sitting in the same fashion as inactive puppets of Seluvis! And it was ANNA, that we could combine with Ashes of Jolan!

frail and WHAT? AND WHAT gdghhgh The text didn't fit, oh my god!!

I asked Val about it, the missing word was 'and pliant'.

12) I also asked him about the 'doll' part, because by all means it should have been 'puppet'! He confirmed that it IS the same term in original because he was confused too and checked earlier: 'doll' here is 傀儡, and is the same used for Puppets in the main game. So, obviously, they were trying to save the letters space! And still failed... XD

13) So, yes, a totally normal thing for Carians to do! Granted, Nox were the ones who started the Puppet dids, but Carians are basically infamous for making Puppets, which Ymir is!

That makes it apparent that Anna attacked us due to him wanting it :^) I assume we were supposed to be food for Metyr, because since he lost his shit over her death he needed her for something. The power to bring Yuri back to life, I suppose.

This made me wonder whether Jolan herself was a puppet? We don't know whether they can still talk and think from the base game, maybe they can! What we do know is that puppets will attach spiritually attach to the master and unquestionably do their bidding (which Jolan does), that they are crafted through blue star shards thus uniting their fates since blue stars control fates of humans (and Ymir and Jolan do affectionately call each other their stars), and that a puppet can be given to someone else despite who made it (since Seluvis can gift his and we now can use Anna).

Jolan is not referred to as a puppet, so maybe her devotion and dependence bordering insanity happened to be her true feelings and not some magic (yet it wasn't the case for Anna, apparently...).. But interesting thing to consider. (LOL I can SEE Ymir simps jumping at me and asking how the heck Jolan's behavior is supposedly magic and not normal reaction gfggnfhhg)

14) Turned out that Ymir's clothes can be altered into... this:

15) I also checked at the Roundtable Hold, for more Metyr lore:

I already read that Greater Will stopped communicating with her, but interesting information! Besides.. the staff to cast sorceries AND incantations sounds SUPER useful! No more switching between seals and staffs xD

The second weapon is simply Metyr's head that mentions there is an eye at the center of it. Yes, I could tell from getting blasted with lasers hfhhjj

16) Also I don't have pictures space left, but if you collect everything like I do, don't forget to check Yuri's grave for a sorcery after Ymir is defeated!

[macsimagines]

THE KISAKI YANDERE POST WAS SO GOOD ?? I NEED TO SEE A PART 2 LIKE WHERE HE FOUND OUT YOU ABORTED THE BABY I NEED TO KNOW IF HE WOULD GET ANGRY OR WHAT ? AND HOW READER REFUSE TO GET MARRIED YET 😻😻 I'm on my knees 😞

YA YOU DO BOO I GOT YOU. I'M HERE FOR SOFT YANDERE KISAKI AND I EAT ANGST FOR BREAKFAST -Ms.Mac

Yandere!Kisaki Tetta

He plays it off when you don't tell him you're pregnant yet. He thinks ok it just hasn't hit yet. He's super suspicious when he notices you're acting strange though.

Ever the thinker he tries to come up with excuses for you. You're probably still getting ready for college. You honestly might still think you're going since you don't realize something waaaaay more important is coming up.

Kisaki has already made deals and prepped everything beforehand. He's got a well paying part time job, and he knows he can balance class work with it. He's also got savings stocked up from his gang days. You won't live as lavishly as he wants but your baby, his baby, is going to be provided for.

This guy is making a lot of sacrifices already you need to be ready to do the same. He know you must have noticed your period is late so why haven't you said anything yet?

Unless...there's no way you're trying to keep it a secret from him right? Or worse yet...

No. He won't allow it. Now he's using even more resources and connections and now he's found out you've made yourself an appointment at an illegal clinic to abort this baby. His fucking baby.

He can't contain his rage. He wants to kill you for thinking you could kill his child. But he knows better. He rationalizes. You just were scared, you made a very dumb decision. You almost made a horrible mistake.

You're dumbstruck to find Tetta at the clinic on the day of your appointment. You were so damn careful, how could he know...

"Just what do you think you're doing, (Y/N)?"

You're crying the whole way to Tetta's big fancy apartment. The one he's been begging you to come and stay at with him. He kept complaining it was way too huge for one person because of course it was. Who the hell needed a luxury three bedroom sound proof apartment all to themselves?

Kisaki doesn't say anything while you cry and try to explain how you're not ready for a baby, how you know how bad he wants to be married and to have a family but you just can't right now.

He doesn't say anything just listen while he helps you take off your jacket, and takes your phone, pulling something from your his back pocket...

It's his own fault. He accepts that he definitely made some poor choices. He really should've just held off until you were engaged. But it's fine. He'll take responsibility.

You feel him rubbing you back whispering how it's gonna be ok. How he's going to make it ok.

Then something clicks around your neck. A metal collar, with a chain leading to the wall. You're so stunned and confused staring at Tetta for an explanation.

"Don't give me that look, Y/N. I wanted to get you a pretty engagement ring, but you're just so fucking stubborn. So godamn stupid.' He explains walking away from you, "But I can fix this. You just need some time to adjust. To get used to the idea. I'm gonna make some calls. You need to settle in."

[just-horrible-things]

'Verse: Resistance, co-author @whump-sprite AU: Chewtoy Timeline: a ways in the future, Connor and Ari have been with the Resistance a while

Fun facts, this was actually originally plotted for a different scenario, but that's like... an AU of an AU of an AU or something and I haven't shared any of it on here so it wouldn't make sense to anyone. It works pretty well with Chewtoy so I've written it for her instead.

---

Sacrifice

The world slows and stops as Peyroux twists and falls. The same way it slowed and stopped when she fell off the roof of the community center as a child, leaving her suspended in the air. The way it stopped when she once thought Riven had actually shot her. 

There’s no time to react, no time even to form a coherent thought, but all the time in the world to feel the sick weightless drop of the end of everything.

She can see the spray of his blood suspended in the air like a film in slow motion, like maybe time will never move again.

And then the moment is gone and everything is moving too fast again, a kaleidoscope of deafening gunshots, raised voices, smoke and searchlights and the taste of blood.

She sees Taryn, dragging Peyroux into cover with a gesture. She sees the whites of Taryn’s eyes. 

Ari should be helping. She should be fighting. The wound in her side is not so bad it's not bleeding so fast that she couldn't be fighting. She should be helping Taryn. She should be doing anything but lying on the floor cowering but they’re going to take her back and she can't remember how to use her limbs, she can barely remember how to breathe.

The rattle of gunfire again. Screams. The feds are killing someone else and Ari shouldn't be glad but all she can think is not me, don't see me, don't take me. She thinks of the gun on her hip. Shame rolling in her stomach, she thinks of using it on herself. 

Connor would be gutted. Connor would understand. … wouldn't he?

Taryn is holding the blood inside Peyroux’s body. He took several hits, she wouldn't be able to do it with just her hands, but her magic covers his body like a constellation.

Ari should be helping. She should be fighting but what good would one more handgun do against their rifles when she can't even shoot straight?

Quiet. Maybe wounded sounds but she can't tell, the gunfire was too loud. Voices, yelling to be heard through ear plugs and the ringing in their ears. Checking in with each other, coordinating. Another shot. More quiet. Ari is trying so hard to stifle her breath but she can't stop gasping.

“Over here. I saw one go down.”

They’re coming her way. Terror roots her to the dusty concrete, paralysing her lungs. They’re going to catch her and all she can do is cower on the floor and beg the world not to see her like she’s five years old and afraid of the dark.

Boots stalk into her field of view. For a second she is sure she is absolutely sure that she is looking at Riven but he’s dead. It’s not Riven, of course it’s not Riven. But it might as well be. They’re going to see her any second now they’re going to find her.

No. The path he’s on will take him past her. They’re going to find Peyroux, and Taryn. He’s the one they saw go down.

For a second, a clarity she didn’t know she was capable of cuts through the panic. If they get Peyroux, they win. The state will get their way, they’ll dismantle the Resistance, they’ll kill and torture whoever they please and no one and nowhere will be safe. They’ll win.

In the same moment, the thing Ari has to do is crystal clear. It’s not even a choice it’s the only feasible course of action and it doesn’t matter that it scares her so much she’s going to be sick. Her life isn’t important. If she dies screaming it isn’t important. It won’t change the world.

She crawls. She lets go of her side, feeling the blood flow through her fingers, and drags herself across the floor by her elbows, knowing full well that the motion will draw attention to her position. The world is spinning around her. If she’s lucky she’ll bleed out before they get her into a black site.

She drags herself away from Peyroux and Taryn, towards the crates ahead of her like she’s trying to get to the better cover.

“Target spotted.”

Ari retches, tasting acid at the back of her mouth. Crawling isn’t a choice any more it’s a desperate futile scramble away from the man behind her. Trying to keep his hands off her just a few more seconds, just another breath, just another instant no no no please –

She screams when he stamps down on her leg. More from terror than pain, she only barely feels it. She twists, kicks at him, misses. He clocks her hard in the head with the butt of his rifle before she can get her gun off her belt, and prises it out of her hands while she’s reeling.

“Got her,” he declares with satisfaction as the cuffs close round her hands.

She loses consciousness, briefly, when he hefts her over his shoulder. The pressure against the gunshot wound is enough to black her out. When she comes to, the feds are retreating. She breathes lungfuls of cold outside air no longer full of smoke. 

How long was she out? Did they sweep the place before they gave up? Did they get Peyroux? Did she achieve anything or should she just have shot herself?

God she wishes she just shot herself. 

She can’t lift her head to try and find out, she can’t do anything but retch through the pain. It sears through every part of her, burning spots into her eyelids, and it’s only going to get worse, it only gets worse from here, she has signed herself up for hell and she should have done something else, anything else, why did she think anything could be worth this?

She doesn’t want to be a hero.

They haven’t even brought a van, they dump her into the trunk of a car. She blacks out again a second before the lid slams shut and plunges her into darkness.

It feels like the closest thing she'll ever have to safety again. She hopes it never opens again. She'd gladly starve in here. Die of thirst in her own shit. Better than what they'll do to her.

It feels like forever before they even start the engine. She tries to treasure every second but she is hyperventilating into the darkness and her lungs burn and she wills herself to bleed faster and she cannot feel anything but stark electric terror.

When they finally pull away, she keens, a pitiful drawn out sound that she cannot even feel in her throat let alone begin to stop.

With her hands cuffed behind her back, she can’t stop herself sliding around on the turns, knocking her head on the sides of the trunk. She barely feels it. She can’t feel anything past the well of twisting painful fear in her belly and chest, lungs on fire, heart pounding like it’s trying to explode. Her limbs, her skull, even the throbbing bullet hole in her side, all of them feel distant, wooden, like they belong to a distant dream.

Somewhere in the back of her head a hysterical little part of her is picturing a doll in a dryer, tossed about wildly at the whim of the machine as the car throws her this way and that.

The car stops too, too soon. Maybe she was unconscious again. Maybe she’s missed some of the last few precious minutes of not-agony left in her life. She sobs. She cannot breathe. She cannot breathe. 

The lid is thrown open. The light is blinding. She hears herself making terrified incoherent sounds. They bend down over her and she tries to cringe away from grabbing hands and there’s nowhere nowhere for her to go.

“Ari, it’s okay, I got you.” “T-Taryn–?” “Yes it’s me, I got you.”

The cuffs fall away from her wrists. Dizzy, uncomprehending, Ari reaches up towards the witch, towards a world that doesn’t make sense but carries the all-important promise of not torture. Did she hit her head?

Taryn picks her up in her arms like a child and Ari clings as hard as she can, sobbing into her shoulder. She doesn’t understand. Please god let this be real don’t let this be a delusion.

“Fuck, is that your blood?” Ari tries to answer, but her voice only makes another incoherent little sound. She nods instead. Almost at once there’s pressure over the wound in her side. She gasps at the sudden hot-knife pain, but it’s no more than she was already gasping.

“They would have killed Daniel if they found him,” Taryn says. “Thank you.”

Ari has nothing to say. She didn’t want to do it, she regretted it as soon as she’d done it, she’s not a hero, she doesn’t want to be. She couldn’t say anything if she wanted to. She can’t stop herself sobbing.

“Hey. Hey. You didn’t think I’d let them have you, did you?” Shame is a familiar heat in her skin. She feels sick. She shakes her head no, and tries feebly for an excuse. “God –” she manages, “-- I – too close.” Taryn’s arms are still round her. Taryn is authority. Taryn is safety. It’s so painfully childish but Ari wants her to never ever let go. “You were really brave. Let’s find Alex and fix this, okay?” “‘Kay,” Ari manages to mumble.

She doesn’t feel brave. She feels like a fucking coward. She knows she did a brave thing, it was terrifying, but it doesn’t feel real. All that’s real is the suffocating, paralyzing terror. The way that all the muscles in her body stopped working as soon as they got the cuffs on her. She didn’t even try to fight back.

She can tell by the movement that Taryn’s carrying her. She doesn’t care enough to lift her head and find out where. She’s surprised how soon a door opens. Where are they? It doesn’t matter. Taryn’s not running. Somewhere safe.

There are voices, getting closer. She tries to stop just fucking sobbing. They didn’t get her, she’s safe, she’s fine. She needs to pull herself together. Taryn sets her down on the end of a bed. Reluctantly, Ari lets go of her. She tries to stay sitting, but Taryn pushes her down onto her back. She supposes she has been shot.

It feels like only seconds before Alex is at Taryn’s shoulder. Ari tries to force a smile for him because she knows he worries, but the muscles of her face aren’t responding. “Gunshot wound,” Taryn tells him, “left lower abdomen.” “Oh, Ari, I’m sorry.” “S’okay,” she mumbles. “Not my first time.”

He puts a hand to her stomach, and the pain instantly dulls.

“Thank you, Alex.” “It’s not fully healed. Don’t move too much yet. I’m sorry, they’re still bringing people in…” “I know. Thank you.” He squeezes her hand. “Thank you,” he says. “Taryn told me.” Ari bites hard on the inside of her cheek to stop herself breaking back into tears.

And then Alex is gone, hurrying off to the next bed. Ari ought to follow him, she’s supposed to – no, wait, he told her not to move. Her head is spinning. He dulled the headache, too, that she didn’t even realize she had until it was better, and now her head feels weightless without it.

Taryn crouches beside her, in the narrow gap between the beds. She puts a hand on Ari’s shoulder. “You thought I’d let them have you,” she says. Ari wants to refute it. She doesn’t think she convincingly can. She makes a vague little sound that isn’t a yes or a no. “Look at me.” It’s a suggestion not an order, she does know that, but her head still snaps up before she has a chance to decide whether she wants to or not. Taryn looks her dead in the eyes. “Over my dead body,” she says solemnly.

Ari swallows and nods. It doesn’t feel real. If it’s true it shouldn’t be. She isn’t anyone important. “You could’ve been dead,” she points out. “I wasn’t sure.” “Then someone else would come get you.” It’s meant to reassure her. But she knows it’s not true. People get taken all the time. It doesn’t matter if they’d want to save her. They want to save everyone. She’s just so, so lucky Taryn was able to catch up.

[winterspiderpurrs]

I want a decently long story of Bucky just stalking Peter from a far and befriending him, just do keep stalking him from close up and convincing Peter that his current girlfriend is toxic just to have Peter. It’s toxic and Steve can see it, upset with Bucky. Gets to the point Bucky is sick of Steve’s nagging and nearly beats him to death. He panics and threatens Steve to keep his mouth shut.

Ends with Peter asleep in Bucky’s arms upset because he thinks MJ is awful. Just where Bucky wants him

I’m sorry for spamming prompts, you’re the only one who delivers such beautiful stories that I need more. Your work is so good

" It doesn't have to be like this Buck"

Steve dodges another punch thrown at him, landing a hit on Bucky's shoulder.

" I know. You just need to keep your mouth shut. It's none of your business."

Steve rolls his eyes, and shoves Bucky after Bucky pushed him back against a wall.

" I'm just worried about you. And Peter and MJ"

Bucky now stands a few feet away from Steve, he wipes at his nose, its bleeding a little.

" There is nothing to worry about. I'm just being a friend to Peter. Helping him out with his girl problem is all."

Sighing, Steve runs his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth it back into place.

" Sure, and implying stuff she is doing? Making Peter doubt her?.... Buck... I've seen your office"

" It's my office in my apartment. Its private you had NO business going in there and snooping at stuff that you don't even understand."

Steve waves his hands around and then point to the door leading to the office.

" No snooping needed. That room is covered in hundreds of photos of Peter. And don't think I didn't notice the surveillance camera of his room. This has got to stop before it gets worse. It's already out of hand."

"What's out of hand is you being in my business. Sure I like Peter. I'll admit it. But I am his friend 1st and that isn't going to stop be being friends with him. You know how often he comes home injuried? Almost everytime he goes on patrol. Stark isn't watching him. Gave him that fancy suit but can't even teach the kid basic aid?"

Bucky starts pacing around.

" Someone needs to look out for him. Sure, it's a bit overboard. But in the past 6 months, I've pulled out 3 bullets that didn't go through on him. "

Bucky sighs and then goes to sit down on the couch. He never planned on anyone finding out about his small[big] obsession with Peter. He was just too good for this world. Peter was comfortable with him, and not even Steve fully lets his guard down arouns him like Peter does.

Peter is affectionate and tactical, god does he love the hugs he gets from him. But MJ wasn't worried about Peter, she can't relate to him, to Peter's need to help everyone. She just wanted attention on her, and what she felt was important. He didn't like how she looked at him. Like she was scared and pissed at him. Constantly complaining, never satisfied. She doesn't see the effort Peter tries to put in. Some things are just more important than date night, like saving the city. She just doesn't understand.

But Bucky does. He knows what self sacrifice is, putting others first. After all these years, he finally wants to be selfish. He wants Peter all to himself. He isn't going to snatch Peter up and hide him away. Peter just needs to come to him willingly. He has already opened the door to the possibility to him. Looking down so Steve can't see his face, he smiles faintly. He got so close a few weeks ago.

Peter and Bucky were at the compound. They just finished a routine training session. They were going to stay the night, so they decided on movies. Started a drinking game to Lord Of The Rings. Sure, they can't truly get drunk, but with enough alcohol they could feel buzzed for a few. It was a good bonding moment. And that's when the topic of slash fiction gets brought up by Peter.

" The what?"

Peter flushes. " Well, like... a lot of people online write up these stories? Like fan responses. Like... a lot of fans think Legolas should get with Aragon in a romantic way"

Bucky stares at Peter for a moment, he looks back at the screen and tilts his head before nodding.

" With seeing the actors... that would be a pretty sight to see."

" Right? Cause like they are... wait what... your okay with that? I thought that well..."

" That I would be uncomfortable? I know the stories have me as good with the ladies. But I've never shied away from a good time with a guy. Course, it was illegal then, but I think it's called being Bi now."

Bucky just shrugs and takes another sip of his beer. He watched Peter's reaction. He knows, based on his research, into Peter that he as well was not straight. But he had never said anything to anyone openly.

Peter's eyes widen as he stares at Bucky, and Bucky can't help but feel the warm that spread throughout his chest when Peter gaze goes to his lips and gives him a once over. Before blushing and giving him a shy smile. " I'm Bi too. "

Bucky shakes his head, shoving the memory back before looking over at Steve.

" I'm not going to start anything with him. If he wants to be more then just friends, Peter will have to make yhe move. I promise you Stevie. I'm not approaching him that way. He will have to come to me"

Steve sighs " Thats all well and good Bucky. But if this happens, I can't protect you from Tony again. Its a line you are crossing, and... I do want you happy. You know that. "

" I know..."

And it was a few days after that, and one room overhaul to hide his... extra surveillance of Peter in another location, when Peter called him. He almost got his gun when he heard the teary voice on the line. Peter asked to come over cause he didn't want to be alone right now.

When Bucky opened the door, his shoulders dropped a little. The look on Peter's face was just so heartbreaking.

" Oh Doll... come here"

Peter stumbles into Bucky's arm and wraps him into a hug. Closing the door, Bucky wraps one of his arms around Peter, before shifting their bodies sonhe could pick Peter up and carry him over to the couch.

" I got ya Pete... don't worry I'll take care of you"

Bucky wasn't assassin for nothing. He always gets his target.

[asha-mage]

Ghost Story

         Their world had been one to value the union between art and science.          Sighing, Latra put the ring down on the tray and leaned back in her chair. The past tense was important. It hurt even to think it and it made the old burn scar along her back throb angrily. Everything she had done, all the wounds taken and battles fought and debates argued in the Hall- all of it had been done in the name peserving that world. But if she couldn’t face the truth even in her own head there was no hope for any of them.          The time for optimism was over. They had to face the realities in front of them if anything was to survive.          “Will it work?” She said, without taking her eyes from the ring. She let none of her exhaustion into her voice or onto her face. Latra still held the highest seat in the Hall and wore the ring of Tamyrlin. That had not yet lost all meaning.           “It will work.” Clotia said softly. She sounded even more tired than Latra felt, and she had cause. She had been in Tzora when Jaric had gone mad.          Ten thousand Aiel singing. Clotia had said hollowly two days ago as she clung to Latra’s arms, while around them more refugees disgorged from the transport. Her eyes had not seemed to see Latra in that moment. Her words had been desperate and shaky, as if they were a curse she needed to pass on.          Ten thousand. They formed a circle around him, linked arm and arm, and never breaking their song. Each time he killed one they just closed in tighter so he could not chase us. Ten thousand Aiel singing all together to try and bring a madman back from the abyss, without a hint of fear or sorrow or doubt. Singing to buy us time to flee.  I’ve never heard anything like it. I pray I never do again.          Clotia’s transport had been among the last to escape Tzora, before Jaric killed the last of the Aiel and then unleashed a flash of flame so intense it left nothing behind. A great sheet of glass stretching for miles and miles was all that remained of the second greatest city on earth and the place Latra had been born.          But she could not afford the time and sorrow it would take to mourn right now- because Clotia had escaped, and in so doing had maybe brought them a sliver of hope. Slender and fragile, yet hope all the same. It was cold of her, but if those ten thousand Aiel had accomplished nothing more than allowing this ring to come to Latra here in Sivian, it might be worth it.          And the people they saved? Hundreds of thousands of innocents made it out of Tzora for the Aiel’s sacrifice. But Latra had to shove aside care for them, to the same place she kept her mourning for those who had not escaped. Whatever their world was becoming did not have space for that kind of sentiment. She could only see them as they were: grains of sand on the scale. Some might still die- most likely would in the ravages yet to come. But the ring? That might yet safeguard them all from a worse threat on the horizon.           If only the key word was not might.          “Are you sure?” Latra asked, making her voice unforgiving.

-- Ghost Story, Chapter 1

[csyched]

Mundane Design Detail of Digital Devil Saga: Tag Rings

(Spoilers for both DDS + DDS2.)

I have a tendency to look way too deep into little details of character designs in media, and when it comes to DDS where uniform designs are common, it gets even more fun for me. One of the things that first stood out was tag rings; the Junkyard invention that is introduced briefly and very early in the game as identifiable objects used simultaneously as trackers for downloadable mantras and can also act as digital wallets. I always wondered though, how much more they can represent for a character's actual design rather than just being a game tool for logging progress.

Rings on different fingers (and hands) represent different ideas on how we wish to present ourselves; these ideas can change from culture to culture, and in observing these differences, I looked both at general Western culture and of course, Hinduism. I was able to find more information in Western cultures with more commonalities. However, in Hinduism, by looking into mudras, you'll find rings on each finger can still hold different meanings. The middle finger is "ego", the pinky is "illusion", the ring finger is "karma". The index finger is Jiva-Atman - the individual soul or self. The thumb is Paramatman - the universal, eternal soul.

And if you've noticed, most individuals of the Junkyard wear their tag rings on their middle finger (on their left hand). In Western culture, the middle finger, similar to "ego" in Hinduism, represents "individuality". And hey, what do you know? That's a pretty important theme brought up later on.

The Samsara Tunnels scene with Lupa is actually what drove me to research further into this. Lupa removes his tag ring before performing an inevitable act of self-sacrifice, and at first, I thought it meant he was giving up his individuality. Until I noticed that no, Lupa wears his ring on his index finger on his right hand, rather than his middle finger on his left hand like almost everyone else. In Western culture, the index finger on the right hand instead represents the "potential for leadership". Fitting, for the Leader of the Wolves, who has offered his own head to the dominating tribe of the Embryon.

And then he hands it to Gale - who slips it onto his left hand next to his other ring, and he puts it on his index. And what does that represent? Comradery. Ohhhhhhhhh man. Let's go, gay subtext!!!

Irrelevant comment: (The funny thing is Lupa's ring literally does not pop up on his hand until the camera focuses on his hand and then it disappears. For the rest of the scene and the rest of the game and DDS2 it is gone. I don't know if that was an intentional choice - I doubt it - perhaps the animators didn't want to make a whole other Gale model with the two rings. I like to think he kept the ring...)

Moving onto DDS2, and Serph sells his tag ring at the Mad Mart to make some cash. Nobody else sells their rings. With the hacking disk, they are no longer needed, so it seems everyone just keeps it for sentiments. Serph himself also wears his ring on his middle finger, so was it a story choice for him to give it away - to represent him giving up his individuality? Of course, maybe not immediately, but eventually, Serph's individuality blends with another soul - being Sera's - in order to become Seraph. And no, they do not wear any rings, because neither Sera nor Serph did at the point of fusing.

Yeah.

Some additional points:

Cielo doesn't wear his tag ring as a ring, he wears it as a necklace. Similar to Lupa and his layers of necklaces with several tag rings. I'm not sure what that means - usually, necklaces with rings represent vows, most commonly found for promise rings. They can also represent deceased loved ones. Which is quite heartbreaking when you think about Lupa's necklaces...

Generally, the right hand for rings is the "action" hand while the left is the "thinking" hand.

If I ever find more information and more opportunities to extend this drabble, I will. I'm not sure how interesting this essay is for others, but some friends were interested in hearing it. I really do wonder how much thought was put into this design aspect, and if anyone has their own knowledge to bring to the table, I'd love to hear it.

[innocentimouto]

Snk ending was beyond awful, but are you satisfied with how Levi's story was concluded?

Ooh boy

No way.

Levi saluting his comrades and being the one to care for their sacrifices was so important, especially to those who think he doesn't care about anyone. His story about being the strongest and thus being cursed to watch everyone die except him followed him to the very end. There's much to explore about his self loathing, his upbringing that imprinted in him to believe he was only useful in strength----something that was always reinforced throughout his life---and to lose that strength, and lose purpose for that strength, when that was the only way of life he knew, and anyone who he could have tried to live a normal life with was dead----Levi fulfilling his promise to eradicate titans, his role as a hero and humanity's strongest actually ringing true---

Except it only makes sense if we ignore all the themes and plot points and just focus on trying to aesthetically end each character's story while ignoring the amazing writing that was there.

Why did no one else care about all the other scouts? Many died saving them. These characters only made it this far because the scouts gave their lives. But they only care about Sasha? What about Marco? You find out how he died but you can't see his spirit reaching peace? Wonder why...

Focusing more on Levi (I've delayed this so much because I keep drifting off into ranting about everything wrong with the ending), how could that be a satisfying ending for all of those deaths?

The scouts wanted to rid the titans from the world to SAVE THEIR HOME. To have a chance for the future generations. They died for nothing with that ending. How hilarious that at the end of it all it's Paradis that's stuck with a horrible history they need to atone for and not Marley who could have just left them.

Moreover, majority of the world was wiped out as well. How could they be happy?

Now the anime has never been that happy and has always been darker so the ending could still have been dark. Sometimes people die for nothing. But the way the fandom perceives this ending as "perfect" as in everyone would be content is just no.

They tried to have such a happy ending too! What was the point? Why not have kept it sad if you wanted to wipe out 80% of the world? What we got was Paradis turning completely evil and being a threat to the world.

Oh yeah the scouts died for nothing a hundred times over. Why was it necessary to make Paradis end like that? Why do animes always have genocides and then sneakily give reasons or try to give reasons that justify it?

Paradisians really were monsters. Now they want to wipe out the world. You could have kept Eren wiping out 80% (still doesn't make sense) but made Paradis good.

Of course that would remove the "both sides have done bad so there's no real villain here to punish war is war I guess" that is always used to justify removing consequences from oppressors. Both sides have evil and both sides can do wrong, but this anime went out of its way to make both sides do bad things even when it wasn't necessary.

If Paradis regretted or wasn't on Eren's side, and obviously after the Rumbling the whole world would fear them, we would see the racism and abuse against Paradis. And for some reason Isayama thought it was a mature theme to not paint anyone as a victim.

Anyway no way would Levi be content with it. He does have some sort of inner dialogue about it. But it contradicts his words to Eren in the manga about the world outside being hell. It also seems very unrealistic that he would think an ideal world would exist, especially since he probably had a rude awakening once getting out of the Underground.

Also it was hinted at for the longest time that Reiner and Bertholdt were sent from outside. So they have an enemy outside who's capable of taking down their walls. Obviously the world outside would have challenges.

Also it was Levi's job to take down Eren if anything went wrong. So many people seem to forget this. He also delayed in killing Zeke multiple times! Yes, for good reasons (I'm looking at you---people who say he was so obsessed with revenge yet would never kill Zeke for the sake of giving his side a better chance at surviving!), but that took Levi out of the game for a while, whereas if Zeke had been killed the Rumbling wouldn't have started.

How can Levi be content when his body count is much higher than Kenny? (so many thoughts on him too and how the fandom casually calls him a serial killer)

The problems go way back for me, though. The ending is just a product of all the writing issues until this point.

Levi's ending is decent what with all these issues, but I can't stand the ending in general. None of the emotional beats touched me at all. I was left upset and in shock of just how bad it was watching it.