#if someone is suffering this bad...; they need help

[celestiamour]

Ever since squid game s1&s2 wi hajoon character😩 I even saw a clip of his back 💀ok im getting side tracked😭so may I please request a smut with junho x fem reader where he’s stressed trying to find his brother but his wife or gf is there for him to keep him calm. It could literally be any plot😭 just need Jun Ho

ft. hwang jun-ho x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ eating you out after a long stressful day┊0.7k words

setting: season 1, before the 33rd games contains: smut!! dom jun-ho & sub reader┊oral fixation, receiving oral, overstimulation, mentioned nipple play & marking, established relationship

➤ author's note: i need this so bad, the new year depression is hitting and i’m so lonely

being a police detective is insanely stressful on levels he couldn’t even begin to explain, even more so when it’s a case related to him personally. ever since his brother went missing, he’s been relentless in his pursuit to find him, searching for even the tiniest clues that may help push the dead end he’s been stuck at for so long. he comes back a little bit later each night with less and less energy, crashing out on the couch and fall asleep to stop the raging headache from considering all of the possible things that could have happened. 

he still makes an effort to be there for you though, taking time out of his busy schedule to take you out on at least one date per week, not just to remind you that he loves you even with how busy he is, but for him to relax too. there’s nothing better than being comfortable and able to turn off the gears constantly turning in his brain in the company of someone he adores so much, and returning home to rest in your warm embrace is akin to heaven for his troubled mind. 

sometimes he likes to shut his brain down entirely when having sex with you and just thoughtlessly do his own thing. it’s almost therapeutic for him, even though you’re the victim of his ministrations and find your body suffering from too much pleasure (if it’s even a thing, he draws a thin line that makes you wonder).

like he is right now, hands spreading the inside of your thighs with a tight grip to prevent them from closing and his mouth laser-focused on what’s in between.

“i-it’s too much,” you whined, trying to push him away for a second of relief yet making no real attempt to do so, limbs slacking after a mere second of effort. perspiration had covered your skin in a thin sheen, shining under the light of the ceiling fixture and drawing attention to his previous actions: marks from constant sucking and biting into your soft flesh all over your neck and chest area. 

he simply hummed in response, the vibrations sending pleasure straight to your clit and making your whimper, not really listening to you. there weren’t really any thoughts in his head at the moment, only trying to pull another orgasm from your spent body to taste more of your addicting nectar and listen to your cries that sounded like the song of an angel.

you originally wanted to pay him attention before yourself, taking the edge off the perpetual stress he was going through with his climax, yet this was all he wanted to do, sucking on your clit like it was candy until the neighbors knew his name. there was no real skill or technique behind his movements, just pure unadulterated passion and lust as he pulled you even closer than you thought possible with an increased pace of fucking you with his tongue. 

it felt so suffocatingly hot, taking another breath only to let out another pitched moan in a vicious cycle. you didn’t know where to put your hands, alternating from the bedsheets to your oversized t-shirt stolen from his before finally tangling your fingers in his dark locks and tugging which caused him to groan in response. he finally opened his eyes and met your half-lidded ones, but he did not stop his assault on your engorged pearl. truthfully, the sight of you as such a blissed-out mess was almost enough to make him cum untouched, and he’s not even certain if he didn’t.

the familiar feeling of an orgasm washes over you, the intensity of it being your third tonight making your back arch off the mattress and your toes curl with a pitiful gasp. still, jun-ho’s lips stayed latched onto your abused pussy, lapping up all of your arousal like a damn dog until you were all cleaned up with nothing but his spit slicking your folds. you whimpered when he finally let go only to part your swollen hypersensitive cunt with his finger, admiring how it quivered and clenched around nothing begging for more.

it was going to be a long night, but it’s worth it if he gets the satisfaction of carrying you out of bed the next day due to your shaking legs and he finally wakes up with a clear head for once.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Golden Cassandra

People don't listen. Not when what your saying, scares them. Especially when, what you're saying, scares them. They like to pretend, instead. That if they don't hear you? It's not happening. Can't and WON'T happen. That you're just a liar. Speading fear, for the fun of it.

But oh, when has reality ever been that kind? That agreeable?

Tell me, WHEN has it ever bowed to the tantrums of men?

I can't think of a single instance. Knew it wouldn't now, either. So, really? What was I to do? Keep trying? Beat my head against walls of willful ignorance, until the deigned to give? Hoping, against all reason and evidence, that they MIGHT, just MAYBE, do so in the nick of time? Please. I was hopeful, not a fool. Optimism does not render a soul naive.

Like the fall of Atlantis, the sacking of Rome. Great Alexandria burning. Everything was going to be destroyed. Rather dramatically, too, and rather deservedly. I couldn't and DIDN'T defend it. Try to change it? Yes. Try to SAVE them? Absolutely. But not once, not EVER, would I defend it.

After all, it was a system built upon the backs of slaves.

Death was the only reasonable outcome. Revolution, the Voice, of those unheard and in chains. Their magic, their power, used for the convenience of their so called "betters". It was disgusting. Vile.

Set dressing, for an Otome Game.

As though their VERY LIVES, their SUFFERING and SOULS, were nothing but pretty little plot points in someone else's PLAY! The indignities they faced. The starvation and thirst. Being forced to watch friend and loved ones suffer, Scream, DIE!

But Oh, at least the Protagonist gets her handsome meat to oogle. They'll know their place, as they play along. Broken nicely and so very, VERY greatful for her scraps. She can play at revolutionary. Or perhaps at savior, should she feel the need. Assuming she doesn't leave them in chains.

And I? Oh I am supposed to play dress up and face her, in some sick "duel" of love! Abuse and use to my heart's content! The Gods jest. For I will do no such thing!

I can barely recall the plot. Only that the gloss over the rather significant socioeconomic and political fall out that is sure to follow. The Kingdom is not going to survive. Should it not be one sort of Revolutionary revolt, it will be another. Corruption, stagnation, and willful ignorance are simply too wide spread among the upper echelons. Baked too deeply into the foundations.

Gods... I... I tried.

It hurts. Like ripping out finger nails, one by one, when I finally gather enough. Not even all that I wish I could. But simply... enough. There is not enough time, the rumblings of revolution have grown too loud. I... I HAVE too go. And... and I know they won't come with me. My friends, my family, the neighbors. All those who smile, nod, and listen but don't believe a word I say.

The pain is hollowing. A truely special sort of hell.

Looking back, to little cousins on tiny legs, helping you pack. With their round little cheeks and small little hands. Watching them try to lift bags like a "grown up". Your friends and family, treating it all like a trip to the country side and not the last time you'll ever see them. The... the day being... being so accursedly normal. Mild weather and gentle breeze. Like your world isn't ending. Like everything isn't gone.

Wanting to be wrong. Traveling and traveling. Wanting to be wrong. Everything mild, calm and sweet. A hell of self doubt. Every night and every dawn. Are you insane? Were they right all along? Were you reading signs, portents of Doom, where there were none? But still... you travel. A caravan filled with your life's work.

Every scrap of modern knowledge. A copy of every work and definitive artwork. Every play, treatise, and textbook. Every old Diary I could get my hands on and endless days patrolling the book markets. A lifetime's work. All spent in hand-me-downs and out of fashion clothes, just for this. The preservation of knowledge.

But what if I'm wrong?

Fiddling with the piles of ward stones, as I get farther and farther north. Closer and closer to the land I stashed away. Hidden, within layers upon layers, of ever circling bureaucracy. A magic rich grove of Gold-leaf Ginko. They would have been harvested to oblivion, if I hadn't hidden them, and the species is already endangered.

I have been using a tower I built (in a natural clearing, as I would sooner remove my own limbs, then a single branch upon one of those trees) there as a seed bank. Every endangered magical plant species I came across? I sent as many seed as I could, to my bank. Had even begun the lengthy process of creating automatons, so they could build a green house (carefully!) into the mountain.

Seems I will have nothing but time, now, to dedicate to that project.

As I get closer, passing through the beginning of the valley towns (that lead into the high lands)? My Family Ring breaks. The terrible Crack of it, a sharp knife to the gut, splitting the morning silence. Father is... oh Gods, Father is...

Yet, even before I can come to terms with this terrible new reality? Beneath my travel cloak and jacket, nestled precious like the love it represented, my Clan Mantle begins to snap and crack like popcorn. Enchanted stone beads cracking apart violently, with the lose of the life they were made to represent. Shrapnel tearing at my clothes as I desperately rip at my cloak, my jacket, blood already welling up from various wounds.

Pop, dead. Crack, dead. Snap! Dead.

I manage to rip the heavy necklace from around my shoulders. Already half the bead are gone. More, like lethal firecrackers, shooting off even as I fling the enchanted jewelry into a nearby leather bag. Scramble for a nearby heavy blanket to cover it. Blood stains everything, dripping from shallow nicks and shrapnel wounds alike. I... oh gods, I barely notice I'm crying.

The sounds have startled the horses. One of them even got hurt. It.. it takes hours to fix. I have to stop in the next town. Shaking. Shaking. I.. I think I may be shaking. C-crying. "To remember where you came from." That's... oh god. That's what Clan Mantle's are FOR. A symbolic gift, really. They... they could never have known.

That it would actually serve it's original purpose. It's ancient purpose. The reason they USED to be made. To... to show who was still ALIVE. Oh gods. I... I can't check. Can't bear to look. The sound has stopped. Is it over? Are... is there...? Please, gods, don't make me look. Don't make me KNOW, how few members of my own family are left.

I was right. Gods, damn them.

Gods damn them all.

I was RIGHT.

Bandaged, healed, I travel faster. Time is running out. It doesn't matter, now, which "route" she took. Everything will have fallen apart. I reach my grove and don't even bother to set up a tent. Wards before all. Better to sleep on the floor, then be caught unaware. I work around the clock. Feeling like clawed fingers are ever so gently, wrapping around my throat, one at a time. Tick, tock, tick, tock. And oh, the tighter they squeeze.

Barely... BARELY! Do the wards thrum to life, deep and powerful, before I feel some almost god like crash into them. My hands shake. Still kneeling in the dirt, from where I placed the last stone, I slowly look up. And... and curling above the golden trees? Shades of copper catch the light. Massive and leaning. Stepping on my wards. Looking down in annoyance, as they refuse to part.

(Distantly, I hear the horses scream in terror. I... I wish I could do the same.)

I flee. Scrambling without dignity, back to the seed bank's tower. Trying to keep out of sight. A hopeless endeavor, I know. What other reason could such a power Dragon be out here for? If not to finish what was started? But... but hope has carried me so FAR. Can it not carry me just a bit farther?

No attacks come. No insults or threats. Yet...

The presence does not leave.

I can not hide forever, for all that fear exhausts and bids me too. All my supplies are out side. My wards, at least seem, to have held? But how can I trust it? Knowing just how strong a dragon's magis is. Sure enough, the second I step outside? There he stands. The copper dragon. Just beyond the wards.

Worse still? He is a man I recognize. Which can only invite pain and suffering, as he played no small part in the revolution. Not to mention, his significance to that damnable Game. Was he "supporting character"? A "hidden route"? An antagonist I could not quite recall? I can not place it. He was THERE, but not lead about by the nose, like the others. Not broken, as they were.

Now, here he stands, light catching off his ornaments and nails. As he tap, tap, taps them lightly against my wards. In sequence. Amused. His eyes locked with mine and glowing from within. Fire and magic made manifest. The king was a fool to think he owned this man. A "royal gaurd dog" indeed. Ha! They brought death into their house, then kicked it.

A slow smile, spreading like poison through sleeping veins, creeps across that deceptively youthful face. Sharp, sharp teeth are revealed to the air. I think I may amuse him. Perhaps I have for quite a while. I have made it no secret, after all, that I know he is dangerous. Treated him as the threat he truely IS. Others thought it was funny. Would find excuses to shove me at him, just to see me panic. All the while, he pretended, like a GOOD little dog, to be polite.

His eyes had always been laughing.

And now? He doesn't even bother to hide.

"You ran away." His voice rings out, the barest hint of rasp, like the drawing of a blade. It fills the silence. Demands attention. "Did you think I wouldn't be able to find you?"

To be honest? I had hoped no one would look. That I had given them no reason to even try. Perhaps that had been naive. I was a part of the system too, in the end. Guilt by association. That didn't explain him, however. Had I wronged him? Beyond the obvious. (And the obvious sat between us, like so much rotten filth. How could ANYONE over look that?)

"Their courts burned, just like you always warned they would. You should have seen it."

He stopped to chuckle. Closer to a sneer, then a sound of true amusement. His distain and delight intertwining as he savored the memory. He leaned closer. Letting his forehead press against the barrier. Enjoying, reliving, his moment of triumph, once again.

"Ha, ha~ Oh, but you should have seen their faces. When they realized you were right. That you had warned them and warned them, but they had refused to listen! It was glorious, darling. They howled with such regret and fear. A magnificent symphony~ you made for me."

I backed up against the carts. The wounds from broken beads stinging harshly with every shift, like the screaming of the dead. Scared. Gods, I'm s-so scared. I can't possibly have invited this... r-right? I never flirted or... or suggested anything! So-! So why is-?! Gods, why is he here?!

"You can't run from me, clever girl. Not for long. You saw me and I see you. Too clever by half. They really should have listened~!" He broke off to laugh, a sharp mockery of the dead. Fangs catching the light. "But they didn't, did they? My poor clever girl. We truely were buried by filth, weren't we? How glorious it must be. To finally be free."

"But~! Did you really think you could escape ME, my clever girl?"

"You're not nearly so foolish. Open the barrier, darling."

"Let me in. Our revolution is over, I have won."

"Now you can't escape me~"

[puzzleglum]

Since we still have about nine hours to wait for the update, I wanted to share a few predictions. Some thoughts about why Lanyon might be reminding Hyde of this story from their university years. I think maybe there are two points to it. One: Lanyon wants to convince Hyde to trust him. And two: he wants to make a point related to transformation. Specifically, that of Jekyll to Hyde, and vice versa. I’ll elaborate on both points. First, why would Lanyon need to convince Hyde to trust him? Because Hyde is obviously afraid.

Lanyon got closer, and properly entered the room instead of just standing in the doorway. Hyde, meanwhile, responds with clear panic. His heart is pounding. Note his stutter when he tells Lanyon to stay back. I don’t think we’ve ever seen Hyde stutter like that before, not once. Hyde has no idea what Lanyon’s intentions are with him, you see. But he thinks they can’t be anything good. Remember, Hyde was aware and paying attention for the immediate aftermath of the identity reveal. He saw the ways Lanyon reacted with shock and horror. Hyde expected that. The shock and horror was the point. Hyde revealed their secret to ruin Jekyll’s reputation, to destroy the “pure” and “good” image he had. Hyde heard everything Lanyon said about him, and about Jekyll, and wasn’t surprised by the anger, or disgust, or anything. He knew what was coming when he revealed that Jekyll and Hyde were the same, all along. Hyde knew he was ruining his own life to spite Jekyll. He didn’t care.

A public vivisection of Jekyll, yes. But also of Hyde.

In a sense, Hyde revealed the truth to show everyone: surprise! It was I, the evil Mr. Hyde, who was the monster in Jekyll’s story all along! And the thing about that is…it’s really not safe to stick around after you reveal yourself to be the “monster” of the story. People might attack you now that they can see you for what you really are, you know? But Hyde is trapped. Don’t forget about the police and angry mob right outside the door. Monsters are to be feared and hated. Hyde knows that’s how it usually goes. The pitchforks must be coming for him. Right? (Hyde here would be ignoring the fact the Society isn’t filled with people who follow convention. Rather the opposite. And it’s not like any of them turned away someone like Frankenstein’s Creature. On the contrary, the Society welcomed him! But internalized self-hatred has a funny way of making you believe there must be something uniquely bad about you. Even when the evidence suggests differently. So it is with Hyde’s self perception.) Now, Hyde, too, must suffer the consequences of the secret being out. And he must suffer them alone, since Jekyll decided to abandon himself and his own life. What the hell is Hyde supposed to do now? Be scared, of course. And so we come back to the present page. Hyde, afraid of Lanyon, because Lanyon is a Gentleman, and Hyde is a Monster, and there is no way Lanyon means well towards a Monster. Right? And so Hyde tries to remind him that Hyde is, supposedly, a monster: “you have no idea what I’m capable of!” Hyde’s telling him that he will bite, so back off. Only, it’s not intimidating in the slightest. His front of toughness is paper thin. And Lanyon sees this. He sees the fear in Hyde’s face. He hears the stutter in his voice. It’s painfully obvious how scared Hyde must be. How does Lanyon respond, after Hyde tries to intimidate him into staying away? He pauses. Note the ellipsis. Lanyon took a moment to consider his angle.

And he found his angle. Recognition. The gentle acknowledgment of familiarity. Lanyon realized, with Frankie’s help, that Hyde is a part of Jekyll. More than that, he’s always been a part of him. Making the related connection that Jekyll and Hyde share their memories would be easy, thus addressing Hyde as “you” when telling this story. After all, their memories being shared would perfectly explain why Hyde, a person Lanyon had seemingly never met before, acted like a scorned ex the first time they spoke.

The sudden, righteous anger was a shock to Lanyon. Why, oh why, did Hyde keep acting like he knew Lanyon? Why did he have a personal grudge against him? I’m sure Lanyon must have wracked his brain to try and figure it out. Try to remember if he had known Hyde, back in university. But no, he would’ve remembered him. It just didn’t add up…until now. Because you know who else acted like a scorned ex, only one night before the present day of the comic?

That’s right. Our dear Henry Jekyll. These two panels, their dialogue, have the exact same source: a feeling of being unloved, and uncared for. The resentment of heartbreak. The difference between now and then is that Lanyon finally has the context to know why Hyde held those feelings, back then. Because Hyde sees Jekyll’s memories as fully his own. Jekyll’s history is Hyde’s history. They are, and always have been, fundamentally the same person. What’s changed now, I believe, is that Lanyon has finally realized this. He’s realized Jekyll and Hyde share memories, and the implications thereof. And that’s why he’s correctly addressing Hyde as “you” when telling a story about their university days. To circle back, I think Lanyon has a point in telling this particular story to Hyde. His angle is to build a bridge. To build trust. To let Hyde know what Lanyon has realized. He’s showing Hyde that he finally recognizes him. That he understands Hyde is not a monster, or a stranger, or a demonic curse on Jekyll’s soul. None of that. He’s a part of the man he loves. And that means Lanyon is not going to hurt him. On the contrary. He’s here to help. But why this particular story? Because of this:

Jekyll is correct, Metamorphoses is indeed the source of Lanyon’s Latin quote. It’s a narrative poem, with a unifying theme of transformations. I think it’s telling that Jekyll immediately recognizes it. Him and Lanyon are both familiar with the poem. And so, naturally, they’ll talk about that a bit on the next page. Maybe Lanyon will have more quotes to share. Maybe Jekyll will have his own quotes that mean something to him. And if he does, I imagine they’d be relevant now. Transformation is an experience that Henry Jekyll has become intimately familiar with, ever since the first night that Jekyll became Hyde. And that, I believe, is why Lanyon is telling this story. Transformation is the connection. Metamorphosis. I don’t know the exact point Lanyon wants to make, but if I had to guess, it would be something like this: ‘I see that you have changed. You have transformed. But I still recognize you.’ Meaning, he both acknowledges that Hyde’s form, and outward personality, are obviously different from Jekyll. And yet, he is the same person. He is still Henry. Just a different facet of him. A side of the man that’s usually hidden from the world. But just because people don’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there. Hyde, the parts that make him, have always been there, even before Jekyll separated Hyde from himself with the formula. Those parts just didn’t have their own discrete personality and consciousness to go with them, before. Before I end it here, I also want to share an alternative: that the Latin quote Lanyon has already shared here is the most relevant part, and all that other stuff I just said, about transformation, is not the point of him telling this story. If that might be the case, let’s take a look at a translation I found of the quote: "But a strange power draws me to him against my will. Love urges one thing: reason another." (“Cupido” here is translated to “love” but it can also be translated to “desire,” which might be more common in the few translations I’ve found.) It’s about internal conflict, that of either following your desires OR logic and common sense. Hm! Highly relevant to the conflict between Jekyll and Hyde. Hyde is all about discarding reason and following his desires. Jekyll, meanwhile, has other concerns. His reputation, mainly. Sometimes, we must sacrifice our desires to maintain our place in society, which is important to our survival. But what happens if we choose to sacrifice our deepest desires, constantly, for years? Never giving ourselves a break? Well…you get Henry Jekyll, a man so repressed that he’d rather separate himself from his desires completely than change the way he lives his life. So maybe that’s the point of Lanyon telling this story. He might recognize that Hyde is the embodiment of those repressed desires, and that’s what he’s leading up to. I could see it going either way, with him making a point about transformation or desire. Or hell, maybe both! It’s not like Lanyon can’t be making multiple points with this story. And that’s where I must end this. Also, I was a bit sleep deprived when I wrote this. So if any of what I said doesn’t make sense, or doesn’t quite connect, you are free to both point that out to me (I welcome all feedback!) and to blame it on that sleeplessness. Either way, thank you to those who read all my rambles to the finish! You are all wonderful folks, as far as I’m concerned. Seriously, thank you for reading. <333333333333

[stilljuststardust]

hii i would need some advice.

after finding out about manifesting it became tricky for me to care about the 3D, not only in the good way but also the bad. like - I dont do stuff because i tell myself that I have it anyways you know. im still taking the Basic care of myself but i stopped studying and doing anything, I kinda just bedrot because "i already have it all" why would i do anything. I dont know how to battle that and logically tell myself to do something.

thank you

Why manifestation doesn't mean nothing matters:

I went through the same thing and the truth was that I cared very much about the 3D I just was depressed and deeply nihilistic.

I want to address the beliefs you've stated about manifestation but I think you should focus on the underlying mental health issue. This has all the traits of a depressive episode and should be treated as such. I am addressing the manifestation aspect because clearly it has been fueling your episode and I hope that this will help change your perspective even a little.

"the 3D doesn't matter" is a really common phrase. When I first heard it I wasn't familiar with loa and it was instead something a friend kept repeating. It scared the shit out of me.

The phrase is meant to convey that circumstances zre never able to prevent your manifestation and that you get to determine what you want in your reality regardless of whether or not it has physically manifested yet.

What it accidentally ended up becoming was "nothing is real nothing matters" which if you have any kind of mental health issue is a deeply triggering phrase.

The 3D isn't worthless it just isn't a factor in whether or not you can manifest something. The 3D is real. The 3D is something that matters because it matters to you.

The 4D isn't some mystical far off land, it's literally just your thoughts, visualizations, and internal experiences, and I doubt that those are all in alignment with your goals right now. When I was depressed my inner monologue was less "my life is so great" and more "why aren't I doing more" so that feeling piled up on itself and bled into my 3D until I wasn't doing anything.

The 3D is malleable and you can manifest anything within it yes but why should that mean you can't care about it? If you're manifesting it's probably because you care about your life and want it to improve.

To be clear I don't believe that nothing matters but even if it didn't why should that mean we give up on the things that make us happy? Nothing matters so do whatever the fuck you want. This doesn't make you happy so why should you do it if suffering is also meaningless?

The underlying mental health issue:

Disclaimer: I'm not a professional anything I say about depression is from personal experience. Please seek professional guidance.

This has all of the common signs of a depressive episode. It seems to me that you have a serious underlying mental health struggle and you've been using "nothing matters" as a way to justify staying in it.

I would like to start with: there is nothing wrong with you and this is not your fault.

There definitely was a time I thought the same way because I was scared to try to get better. Starting recovery can be scary because often there is a backwards comfort in leaning into it because you're no longer putting pressure on yourself to "do better".

"Nothing matters so why should I try" isn't loa, it's nihilism, and a very common mantra for those suffering with depression. You're not alone in thinking it.

If you want my advice as someone who's been there:

Obviously no advice I give you is going to cure you but I can give you tools that helped me.

Meet yourself where you're at. Don't try to go from bed rotting today to climbing a mountain tomorrow. It's like how you can't jump from the first level to the boss fight of the video game. You don't need to have all of it under control your goal should start one step above where you're at. So instead of a whole list of things you need to catch up with just start with showering or your hygiene. Keep that as your only goal until it's become a normal part of your life again and implement new goals in a similar way.

Every video I ever watched on self improvement overwhelmed me with everything I wasn't doing. The weight of my expectations for myself was the heaviest part of my episodes. Eventually I committed to the idea that I had only one responsibility and it was showering, anything else is just a bonus. Be kind to yourself. If all you change is the way you talk to yourself about it you will feel better. It's easy to fall into cycles of beating yourself up for everything you wish you were doing but that isn't benefitting you in any way. Give yourself some compassion.

Links

Against nihilism - john green

How to handle the 3D when manifesting

Mental health subliminal

[utilitycaster]

If I can make a small inference about Laura as Imogen, is that she's not indecisive. She had some major swings - opening with her (at the time) highest spell against Otohan before initiative and Psychic Lanc-ing Zathuda are two examples (and she was actually heavily judged by the internet police both times).

I think she is able to be decisive when the story speaks to her directly - another sign that the Predathos plot does not. Imogen's personal arc, IMO, finished when she saved her mother from being absorbed. The Predathos fight feels like an epilogue, and not an exciting one at that.

The problem, I think, is that the overarching plot is too abstract and uncertain to warrant a gut reaction. It's always a "I guess this is it".

I disagree on all points:

Two cases of attacking a pretty obvious enemy does not undo pretty considerable indecision with regards to the campaign-long choice of unleashing Predathos; the complaints about indecision are largely based in RP. I do not give a solitary fuck what the "internet police" say. Their opinion has no bearing on mine and is entirely irrelevant to this discussion.

There are multiple problems I have with Imogen and Liliana that I've outlined previously, namely, it really feels like she saves Liliana, who has almost never helped her and whose alliance with her is predicated on a lie (and who even outright failed in her own attempt to prevent Imogen from getting involved, and who, as a character, suffers from kind of the same problem of "I think Ludinus is a bad person but I am going to carry out his cause, which is ultimately exactly what he wanted and the action that led him to do all the things that lead to our assessment of him as a bad person") out of some vague romanticized sense of "but she's my mother". It feels like a path of least resistance, and as I've said before it feels like someone handed Laura a script an hour before and said "okay you're a woman begging for the life of your estranged mother." Imogen's dedication to Liliana is genuinely one of the weakest throughlines in a campaign that does not lack for weaknesses. You're welcome to feel differently but this doesn't feel remotely satisfying or even convincing as a character beat at all to me let alone the culmination of a character arc. The endpoint has always been facing Ludinus and deciding whether to become a vessel, and doing the latter with absolutely no conviction and barely any intent is pretty dull.

The overarching plot is extremely simple: "Ludinus Da'leth, due to trauma incurred during the Calamity that led him to hate the gods, wants to release a god-eating creature that needs a Ruidusborn as a vessel, and is taking the actions to do so, among which involve straining the very fabric of magic and killing a massive number of people. Much of the world is trying to stop him." Now, the choices involved (ie, should Bells Hells ally with much of the world to stop him, or should they join this cause) are, I think, something Matt wanted to feel complicated. However, I and I think a lot of other people here have found that the case for eating the gods has never been presented as anything but a combination of petty vengeance for personal slights that in some cases are outright imagined; or a vast overreaction that fails to address root causes (ie, colonialism and the death of the titans will not be remotely fixed by this) and introduces a host of new problems. I do think there is something to be said for cast members missing some things that were pretty repeatedly directly stated (the shard being bad for Ashton; Predathos being a cosmic entity from outer space that required a Ruidusborn vessel) and that perhaps the messaging from DM to players was lacking in a way that wasn't clear from an outside view but the core plot is perhaps the simplest one across all campaigns, poorly paced though it may be.

[shpeederman]

Holy moly my neurons are neuroning because I read this and I honestly have to give my opinion on this because Kanako seems to be screwed no matter what happens:

1. this hypothetical scenario happens and she's stuck with two idiots (somewhat affectionate) who can't communicate their basic needs with each other figuratively shredding and eviscerating her mental state leaving Kanako an empty husk of herself, with the closest thing to a functional adult in her life being Starlo.

2. cannon Undertale Yellow happens where after Chujin dies due to the same communication issues Kanako ends up trying to pull a Vergil DMC in the form of hoping that the serum working will be some hail Mary that will return sense of normalcy to her life and instead gets punished for her hubris by becoming a writhing flesh slime in a state of constant agony and suffering stuck in a loop of decomposition and regeneration for likely the rest of her entire, potentially very long life.

3. another alternate scenario happens where Ceroba in a moment of simultaneous slight clarity and incredible stupidity decides to use Chujin's serum on herself instead, leaving Kanako an orphan while Starlo and his family have to pick up where the Ketsukanes fucked up (I know someone wrote a one shot for this exact scenario on AO3 forgive me I am bad with names).

Any way no matter what happens Kanako ends up either completely traumatised or completely traumatised and potentially permanently hospitalised because her parents are too blinded by the late 1900's to early 2000's ideal American family standard of all things and both of them were either too proud or too far in the deep end to be able to seek help out of their own volition.

God, I feel really bad for Ceroba in her relationship with Chujin and wish them a wonderful divorce, but I also know that Kanako would suffer a lot being caught in the middle of it if it were to have happened. Both Ceroba and Chujin don't know how to communicate with each other and I can't see their relationship ending in any other way except sloppy nightmare explosion style, but poor Kanako wouldn't know what's going on. From one day to the next, it goes from "Mommy and Daddy love each other and our family is happy :)" to "Mommy and Daddy hate each other and can't be in a room together without getting into a fight." She'd be the one most affected by it. She'd feel responsible for it in some way. At the end of the day, at least Ceroba and Chujin can separate from each other and try to move past it, but Kanako is gonna carry the trauma of seeing her parents hate each other like a switch was flipped without the awareness/emotional intelligence of how their relationship got so strained in the first place

[yuseirra]

It's so weird. I keep listening to Fatal and this guy loves Ai so much. It's still something I can interpret as love, and is this the right way feel about it? Why do I still feel like Ai's chosen the one that'd treasure her when I'm so stern about moral values and feel like someone who's done wrong should be sufficiently punished in fiction if needed? Why do I still feel this isn't that unhealthy? This feels like intense longing from someone who's so lonely and hurt driven to the point of being utterly broken?

He misses her so bad. It's so painful. What is the point of making an originally good person like him suffer so bad? This is wrong. That's so horrible. It feels really bad... I sense these enormous, overwhelming feelings, and I'm still not sure if I can dismiss this only as pure insanity because this happened because he really did care about Ai. Is it that it's got overridden and taken advantage of? Fatal is so weird because that whole song screams.. of this feeling of becoming tainted and madness, the whole melody feels like it; yeah, I can see that, but..

I actually see what the story is doing as a whole. I think I have a good idea of how this is going to be wrapped up and why they made this choice, but as I always say, I'm not the one responsible for forming the story and having crafted these characters so I can't say it for sure.

If what I anticipate does come true, then this can be a really meaningful piece of work. I want to believe in that. But it's so hard to hold out on that and see these pointless sufferings in the process. Aqua's hate should not have been directed at this guy. This character...I think he needs love. If just one person was kind enough to him, he could have lived with that, and he just didn't have that, it's so unfair.

I think I can sense what this character is feeling you see, it's what's made me draw so much about him and Ai,

in that case, I see why the writers and staff cared enough for him to give him two songs, but if I'm wrong on this, I just don't know.

I think I will have the answers.. by December? I hope so.

I would like to believe in my feelings and go on because, in terms of feelings, I know what this is, what's being displayed doesn't entirely make sense, the only consistent things I can read about this character are the feelings and his state is really, really, really bad. They are so depressed on the near verge of death, they are so weak... If someone is feeling this despaired, maybe they can turn into something different but I'm not sure about that, I can't determine that, I need more information to piece things together, but I can say, this is a really huge feeling they're feeling, and I sense a lot of sorrow. It's so weird...

It's different from what I feel from seeing the comic, you know. You know how sometimes you act and you feel the sort of feeling your role may feel. Or when you read a work and you can get a sense of what a character may feel. I've been good with these. It's what I rely on...this sounds really dumb, I know, but... I feel really sad when I try to match up my feelings with what this guy may feel. With this level of sadness... I just don't know what to make of him but it's really reasonable for him to have this sort of feeling too, since someone who cared for died. They don't exist anymore... can I even sympathize with him? Am I supposed to? It's not.. actually insanity I feel as the core, it's sadness. Everything he does seems to stem out from that sort of feeling, "sorrow" is his core. so I can't help feeling pity when he's this... horrible mess right now. But what did he even do? we never even got to see that. Why is he like this? It's actually really painful to try and sync up with him, I do that when I draw characters, and I had to back out several times from getting too deep because it hurts. I'm adjusting my level of doing this with this character time to time because what he's going through is really intense. The same with other characters in this comic, had this happen with Aqua and Ai too, that's why I'm so impressed with how this comic builds its characters, the characters in this manga are suffering internally so realistically, you can actually feel their emotions if you try really hard haha. It makes it really intriguing, that's how I was drawn to it in the first place. Do you have these things happen to you, do? I certainly cannot be the only way who has this happen, I am sure!

The reason I keep talking about him is because. the information that is presented doesn't connect with each other.

Still I feel like I can sense what Ai saw in this guy. Then he should be saved; I want that to happen. And if the way I see it is correct, it actually will happen. I don't know how but by the end of the series, it will. I sound like I have little base, don't I? but I'm usually right with these, I had something like this happen lots of times, so I think-and hope-I'm being so this time as well!

[batcavescolony]

Katniss is such an unreliable narrator. She says "Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me" girl you deliver strawberries to the Mayor, you hunt and trade for the district, when you fell at Prim being chosen someone caught you, when you went to Prim people parted for you, when you volunteered EVERYONE stopped. Idk how to tell you but I think you're a pillar of the community.

[moeblob]

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[jklpopcorn]

crying and sobbing i was supposed to draw doodles of my ocs but instead all there is is Siffrin

they're so shaped i have to draw them

also

100% :)

[mothinabottle]

Imagine. Imagine a new ritual in-game where the temple tries to convert a demon PC back to a normal human again. Like some type of shit involving a high rank temple member cumming inside PC 7 times (Because 7 is the holy number supposedly? Jajsjajsja)—Preferably Jordan

Spoiler: It doesn't fucking work. This is just an excuse to have porn with plot, ok??? I am at my wit's end cuz I haven't been able to draw Jordan in a GOOD while and I just need them???

I NEED YURI SEX, YAOI SEX, WHATEVER THE FUCK IS AVAILABLE WITH JORDAN 😭

[vaguely-concerned]

just realized all over again that harding and rye never got to talk about varric. when he got out of fade jail she was gone. she's never coming back. they never got to talk about it. they will never get to talk about it. they spent all that time together, they became so close, and still they never got to meet in a world where they could both talk about it and now they never will because she's gone too. she'll never know he felt it just as deeply as she did, that she wasn't alone in it. millions dead thousands wounded in my heart and brain right now it's just a bloodbath in here

[zeroducks-2]

"You've got to be nice to people with demonized mental illnesses 🥺 If you experience delusions and hallucinations and intrusive thoughts I love you and you are safe with me UwU"

Yall couldn't handle Jimmy Mouthwashing and act like James Sunderland was the antichrist.

[labselkie]

Genuinely might end up on the news. I went to go grab my ao3 fic to show a friend and right by it in the liv tag were TWO “non-con tickling” fics

[immortalsins]

im so so tired jsjdhbj an engineering employers panel just scared me half to death with their startups and innovation and investment and passion commitment linkedin networking etc etc etc i hate it here

[cavity-collector]

i genuinely need to be put down like a dog i cant do this anymore man holy shit