#just from all the fucking story content he gets shoved down our throats lmao

[c6jpg]

now the real question is who is gonna get the hyv favorite character treatment via animated PV next

[greatcheesiness]

Hope: MSBY

Synopsis: In which a shooting star decided to make their prayers come true…

Characters: Atsumu/Sakusa/Hinata/Bokuto/Child! Y/n (little cameo) They’re all the same age except Y/n.

Genre: Angst, hopeful, Sad, a bit haunting at the end idk how that happened, mysterious, fate

W.c: 2k9

Moral of the story: Don’t think like this kids. Life is very valuable tsk.

[a/n] pfft I’m back y’all. Y’all missed me? Lmao no one asked. I have arrived with another short piece to satisfy your masochistic selves. I had no Wi-Fi and I thought I wasn’t gonna live a normal life. I was also a lazy bean who promised to work out but ended up eating Danish bread. They’re really good ngl. I did not proofread this so I am sorry for the errors. Sleep deprived again. I didn’t proofread this, sorry.

edit: this is a repost. I don’t think this was sent properly.

Little sparks emerged from the blazing mixture of red and orange. The colour of fiery and passion. But in the middle, there was a vibrant colour of yellow. Even if a person is angry and the things they do will not go as passionate, there’s always a little bit of hope. That was what Sakusa interpreted as he observed the fire. The ashy smoke floated upward into the sky and turned invisible where they will not be seen again. That is what they want, right? Just to die out...

“I’m going to find some more wood,” Bokuto said out of the blue and stood up from the barky log he just sat on. Hinata got a fright that he almost fell off of his side of the log. Bokuto then ran towards the darkened woods. Hinata’s eyes widened. He scuttled backwards and jogged into the woods, just to make sure he doesn’t wander off. Just to make sure he’s safe.

“Kotaro, wait up!” he shouted and the woods mimicked his voice of worry. It was a cold night. A blanket of navy covered the sky with a sprinkle of shimmering stars.

“I hope they don’t get lost. I heard that this is the largest forest in our area or perhaps the whole country,” the blonde head muttered. His fingers fiddling on to silver key necklace dearest to his heart. It was a gift given by his grandma just the day before her decease. That day felt like the day he lost a true friend. Sakusa stared into the sky. To become one of those shiny sequences high up the vast navy.

Small, slender, slim sticks were thrown into the fire by Atsumu. His eyes granted no mercy as he stared at them burning in the little hell he created. Sakusa could see the reflection of the fire in his chocolate eyes. Knowing the reason, he sighed. It conveyed his feelings. His pent up fury.

The long silence was interrupted by a trivial question. “Have you ever thought of what you want to become as you grow older?” Atsumu wondered. He had never really heard or knew much about Sakusa despite having each other’s presence in existence for a while. He blinked, his long lashes brushed through the air. “I don’t know,” he simply replied. His voice so curt that Atsumu’s feelings were hurt. He clutched his heart with a pain expression to emphasise the dramatic. “Omi kun, y’know that’s not the answer I want,” he whined at him. There he goes again, Sakusa thought.  

Atsumu hummed as he looked at the fire “Y’know.., it has always been my dream to become an astronaut. What do ya think Omi kun?” Sakusa scrunched his face at the thought. “What should I think??” The only responsive thought he had for that confession was that it was unbelievable to be true. He thought he wanted to become a volleyball player and join the national team. Maybe get the hot girlfriend of his dreams while he’s at it. But an astronaut? Does he even have the grad-?

“Haha if only I had the grades. I can see it right through you Omi kun,” he smirked as he pointed the stick at him held by his fingers. “To bad I’m not a smartass like my twin brother. Such a nerd without glasses,” he murmured at the mentions of his twin.

“Achieving high grades doesn’t make you a stereotypical ne-“

“I said what I said, Omi kun. I said what I said”

Sakusa stayed quiet after that. He had nothing else to add after that mild conversation. His eyes lingered at the book lying on the grassy ground. Atsumu’s five year old diary. To this day, he still remembered the contents inked in those pages. Hinata and Bokuto saw them as well. He pitied Atsumu, but dared not to speak a word of it. In that diary, Atsumu undergone what you call affliction. Even now, it still disturbed them.

Beside them, they set up a telescope that they had recently bought. They got it after dodging that expensive price. Bokuto’s bargaining skills were useful. The trees waved side to side with the gusting wind. Sakusa’s dark curls wavered. They’ve always wanted to see the stars together. Earlier this day, they heard from the news that there was going to be a shooting star passing earth. It was very exciting as no one would ever expect to see something like this in their time of life.

There was a lot of things around their temporary property. Tents set up, sleeping bags, coats, stocks of food and drinks, you name it. They fully decided that they would never ever come back home. All of them hated where they came from. It just wasn’t for them.

At around five or six in the evening, the four of them were in school cleaning up toilets and classrooms. This was Sakusa’s nightmare. His duty was in the boys’ toilet. All the grime, stench, dirtiness tainted each cubicle he entered. He felt like regurgitating, but if he was going to faint, at least faint outside the bathroom. Nonetheless, he pushed through this hell and managed it somehow.

Suddenly, a burning smell wavered through the air and entered his nostrils, sending him to alarm. He rushed out of the boys’ bathrooms. His eye’s enlarged at the sight of flames eating the corridors. His mouth gaped as he stood petrified. What in the world?

Someone grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from danger. Sakusa turned around to see it was Bokuto. His heart was racing as he tried to process what the fuck just occurred. “Kotaro, what on earth is going on?!” He didn’t answer for a while until they’ve reached outside the burning school.

“It was Atsumu’s doing. He threw a cigarette in the bin and the bin caught on fire!” Bokuto used his arms to demonstrate the fire. Sakusa glared at Atsumu and grabbed him by the collar. “I know you hate this fucking place, but did you have to fucking burn down the school!?” Atsumu shoved him away from him. “So what if I fucking did?!” Sakusa’s eyes were filled with anger. Who goes to this extent from hatred? Especially from a teenager.

“You… YOU BASTARD!” he cursed at his selfishness. A punch swung onto Atsumu’s face and he fell to the ground in an instant. The blond head swiped the blood off his busted lips and gave him a deadly glare. Oh if looks could kill…He collided into Sakusa causing him to cough out his saliva. Therefore, a dog fight transpired between them. Sakusa had no care for the dirt sticking on to him as his only goal was to knock some god damn sense into Atsumu’s brain.

Hinata panicked and attempts to pull Atsumu away while Bokuto did the same for Sakusa. “Look we tried to extinguish it with a fire extinguisher! But it…it just wouldn’t work at all!” Hinata explained while he still held onto Atsumu. Sakusa’s brows furrowed. “Then what the fuck did you do then?” All three of them looked at each other. “We ditched it,” Bokuto shrugged his shoulders “It would go out”

Sakusa groaned in his clammy palms. Oh my fucking god…Since this happened, what’s gonna happen to them? Will they all get in to trouble? Obviously. Should they just mention that it was Atsumu’s fault and he shall bear the consequence? Or should all of them step out and stay along with the blond retard? Everyone remained quiet. Sirens were heard and police cars and fire brigade were approaching their way.

“Do you just want to go home and pack our stuffs secretly? We can buy that telescope we all wanted and watch the shooting star that’s coming tonight….”

And that’s how they ended up here, in the meadow deep into the woods where no one will find them. If they decided to give up on them, just like how the others would. Sakusa admitted that it was a beautiful scenery. Atsumu and he didn’t fight anymore. What’s done has been done. Everything happens for a reason.

Hinata and Bokuto arrived with more sticks cradled in their arms. They were dropped onto the beryl green grass. After that, Hinata plopped down and his chest heaving up and down “Oi no more. I’m tired from running around,” he waved his hand at him without looking at Bokuto. The owl-like man plastered a huge grin on his face “You lack strength, Chibi chan. C’mon toughen up those muscles,” Bokuto wacked his shoulders that sent Chibi forward. They laughed. Only the corner of Sakusa’s lips curved.

Boys in pain come together to diminish those pains.

A spark occurred in the middle of the dark sky. Hinata noticed this first and mirthfully swore “Guys I see it!” All of them ran to the telescope, even having little arguments of who should go first. It ended up being Atsumu. The rest of them quietened down and all they could do was admire. It was absolutely spectacular without a doubt. Not only was one shooting star but there a shower of them. A celebration perhaps?

“There’s so many of them! We should make a wish,” Hinata encouraged. All of them clasped their hands together with their eyes closed. Sakusa joined and he wished that he would have a happy life. That was all he wanted.  

“Atsumu…”

“……”

“Atsumu… is that other shooting star approaching us or am I losing my mind?” Hinata asked worriedly. His knees shook like jelly. “Atsumu...” His body quivered with uncontrollable nervousness. Atsumu didn’t say anything back but gulped. “Well aren’t you going to answer us?” Bokuto asked with a lump in his throat.

Sakusa gazed up, following the track of the star before it split into two after crashing a certain part of the atmosphere. He knew. Everyone knew, that it was bound to reach them any minute.

“Will be able to get out of here in time?” Bokuto asked fretfully, brushing his hands through his grey strands. It wouldn’t be called a shooting star anymore. It was meteorite. The little thing drew closer and closer each time they blinked.

They just knew they wouldn’t make it out in time…

Atsumu sighed. “I’m staying here. I have nothing in this world to live for,” he gazed up and muttered as salty essence well up his chocolate eyes. He said it quietly, yet it was enough to be understood. He walked around a log and sat down with his head hung low. It was getting closer. Hinata swiftly sat beside him with his arms wrapped around him. His eyes closed “I’m staying with you. Staying with you until the end. Who knows we might end up somewhere beautiful. A magical land called Us”

When he said those words, a tear rolled down from Sakusa’s glistening ebony orbs. All of them wanted that. For a long time. A magical land called Us. This world gave them so much pain to the point that they had to imagine a wonderful world.

Bokuto, who used to use happiness to shield his sadness, embraced the both of them. The three of them cuddled. Some sniffles and sobs were heard from their trembling lips. Sakusa patted the left side of his chest. He was breathing quite heavily. This was most emotion he had ever displayed.  All of them turned their heads to face him. Atsumu’s arm stretched out. He smiled wearily “Come with us”

A lot of thought rushed through his mind. His head went racing. Was this the right choice? Was this what he wanted? What he if he still want to liv-

Before he could move a muscle, a bright, yellowish light flared behind them. His eyes reflected the light. Everything happened so fast and after that, they…. vanished. Long forgotten in this world.

 -

 “A lot of things have happened during this week. Firstly, the “shooting star” also known as a meteorite, crashed in the meadow of (xxx) wood, the largest in this country. No one has expected this phenomenon to split into two and destroy so much nature. Even almost damaging some parts of nearby towns. Another talked about topic, is the burned down school at (xxx) province with four boys that attended that school, missing…”

 The little girl watched the enormous meteorite from afar. “Wah it’s huge,” she said as she dangled her tiny little legs. An ice cream was in her hands as she watched the workers inspecting the rock. Maybe they could extract minerals and become filthy rich. She took a lick of the ice cream. The wind was howling that evening. She enjoyed a vanilla ice cream during cold season.

“Y/n, come here!”

Her mother yelled. Y/n shouldn’t be out in the open. It was too dangerous, who knows what will happen. Y/n stood up from the edge of a cliff and admired the amber sky before realizing her ice cream dropped to the ground. Her mouth gaped in disbelief. She paid for that using her own money by collecting reusable garbage for hours. She exhaled and tossed the cone away.

“Y/n!”

“I’m coming mom. I’m coming,” she called back. She dusted her hands off her skirt and jogged on. There was a valley close by so she needed to be cautious otherwise she might roll off the cliff and that wouldn’t be good. However, as she took another step, her foot slipped and her face fell flat on the ground. Blood dripped down from her nostrils. “Great…”

Luckily for her, she had an extra packet of tissue deep in her pocket. She took a tissue out and wiped the blood off that dried. All of a sudden, from the corner of her eyes, she caught something shining in the grass. Curiosity aroused her and she moved closer to the object. Mother told her that she shouldn’t take or even touch something that’s not hers. It could bring bad luck.

Y/n didn’t remember her mother’s words when she picked it up. It was a silver necklace that took the shape of a key. “Wow…” she mumbled. It had a simple design to it, yet to her it was the most beautiful thing she had seen that day. The wind blew even harder as the wind whistled.

“Y/n! If you don’t come this instant, I will leave you here,” her mother called out for what seemed like the last time. Y/n shoved the object into her pocket and rushed to her parent. She shuddered. How cold was it? She wrapped her arms around her and rubbed for heat.

“Y/n, what happened to your nose?”

“I just fell”

“That’s karma for not listening to me for the first time. I just fell”

“MOM”

 -

 So this was what the afterlife looked like? It looked the same as their world, yet maybe more magical. In this world, there was only the four of them and no one else. It had everything they needed. It was tranquilized. The trees consisted of wisteria. All of their stuff that they had with them before their very last breaths was placed exactly the same way, same place. However, the boys weren’t there.

A burning door stood in the middle of the meadow. All of them watched it, sitting down with bittersweet smiles on their faces. Was it worth it after all? Atsumu was the first one to hop off his position and run out into the wild. His appearance changed. He took the form of a little boy and had a book about stars in his hands. Ten years of age. The last time he felt a sense of happiness before all crashed down. Hinata turned back to a fifteen year old and Bokuto, a twelve year old. It made Sakusa feel old. He remained the same after all their transformations. A seventeen year old.

The last time he felt happy was just a few months ago. Despite that, he never really intended to die. It was just a last minute wish he made that he regretted. He believed to have many things to do on his bucket list. It was too late somehow and he thought that this new life wasn’t bad after all. He could maybe tick them all of in this afterlife.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted a necklace. His brows furrowed at it and he leaned forward to capture it. Now it laid on his palm and began his inspection. It was an open door with no handle… He gulped. What was the meaning of this? If he was being honest, Atsumu didn’t have his grandma’s necklace with him. He started connecting the dots.

The fire stopped burning the door. He looked up and moved backwards. It was dark and the atmosphere couldn’t be anymore spookier. He whimpered and started to shake.

A little girl clad in a ripped strawberry dress. Her shoes dirtied. Her skin pale as snow. Her hair in a dishevelled state and her eyes were the worst. They were fully pitch black. And before Sakusa knew it, he ran as fast as he could and…

…never turned back.

The shooting star, after all, just granted their wishes. Without them knowing the consequences…

[mrcoltkaneko]

daybreak (rod)

a/n: i am very... meh about this one, but when i heard that RODAW was happening, i had to throw something up for my favorite boy. it’s written in the second person because... i just vibed with it???? LMAO idk. as always, your comments / likes / reblogs are very much appreciated. i apologize for any typos in advance, i think i wrote this in like 4-5 hours so it is a very raw draft. i might go back and edit it at some point, but for now, please enjoy! 

pairings: Colt x MC angst

summary: So much for wanting to die, for choking yourself with smoke and willpower and here he is, doing it all by himself, five-and-a-half feet away.

rating: PG-13

content warning: cancer, infidelity.

length: 2172 words

tags: i am constantly amazed at the amount of quality content that comes out related to ROD. i’ve fallen out of the choices fandom but ROD still holds a special place in my heart and i’m so excited that it’s the same for a lot of other people as well! @rodappreciationweek ! 

All great love stories begin with a once upon a time, but you think that yours must have begun with an and they lived happily ever after, because with him, you are always drowning in a sea of now, now, now that exists only in a dream.

You smoke cigarettes now. It’s something of a habit, picked up in college after drunken nights out in the dead of a winter, desperate for the quick pinch of sobriety and a flicker of warmth — even now, you remember how much the smoke and tar had made you cough. Now, the nicotine, it tastes sweet on your lips.

You wonder when you’d become so jaded.

Even jarring images of blackened lungs can’t scare you now, not when you'd seen with your soul the images of your own heart, bloodied and bruised to shit. Not when you've seen her father waste away in that bed, antiseptic stinging your nose, your eyes. A year after he’d retired. There’d been plans, big ones for him to buy a home up near Olympia, fix it up himself. He’d bought tickets to Italy. You’d always thought he’d go out in a bang, a furious firework in the sky commemorating his heroism. None of seeing him die in that damned hospital was heroic.

You bring the cigarette up to your lips and inhale, holding your breath. Her gaze focuses on the skyline ahead, gripping the rust-streaked railing in front, the Hudson reflecting ink black, save for the moon’s milky touch rippling ribbons of white on the water. Only when you feel your chest constrict and vision blur that you open your mouth and let the cancer flow out. Hunched over the barrier, you begins coughing and fuck, does it feel good. It’s like being eighteen again, taking that first puff of that cigarette, feeling the smoke’s heat sear your throat in a line of fire.

“You all right?”

You glance up. You already has a bitter retort locked and loaded, about how you’s fucking goddamn fine, that you doesn’t need his help, that there’s pepper spray in your purse that you wouldn’t hesitate using and —

( “Ellie?” )

And your breath stops.

So much for wanting to die, for choking yourself with smoke and willpower and here he is, doing it all by himself, five-and-a-half feet away. You drop the cigarette, three-quarters done, and it’s no wonder that you are breathless because you drowns in him once again, like something familiar creeping up your airways, a release .

“Colt.” You take a step forward, hesitant. You watch his face, in as much disbelief as yours. He’s wearing the same jacket from all those years ago, and you want to laugh, to straighten the lapels and plant a kiss on his cheek and then cry from the youer impossibility of seeing him again, but seven years is too much time. You scrape the toe of your boot against the cobblestone, never daring to look at his face. “How - how are you?”

“I’m good. Didn’t know you were in New York.”

“I am.” You pause, wondering if you should say any more. “I work - I work at a publishing company. I edit books.”

“That’s cool. Good for you, El.”

A pause enters the conversation. For a moment, all you can hear are the distant hum of cars, the white noise of city life. And all you want to do is cry, but not for the same reasons as before, but how stilted their conversations are, how much you do not say that you wanted to for the longest time. Like, I’m sorry, I wish I’d stayed, I wish I hadn’t thrown you out. Like, I’ve missed you, you complete me, I love you.

“Are you in New York too?”

“Nah. Just here to visit my girlfriend’s parents. They live up in Queens.”

Oh.

You want to ask. You want to know her name, her job, what she’s like. You want to know whether the girlfriend has met his mother, whether she knows about his father and Ximena and Toby and Logan, whether she knows about you. In bitterness, you’re reminded of your own boyfriend, the one you’d fought with earlier over a carton of milk — and then it dawns on you that there is a space of seven years that you have been gone, torn from Colt’s life that you don’t know about, and you swallow. The pause is no longer a pause, but a thick hesitation sitting in between you and him, and you struggle to breathe against his presence.

“Listen, Ellie —”

“No. It’s fine — it’s fine, I mean, it’s been seven years, right? You’re allowed to have a girlfriend and a life, and I have a life now, and we’re all fine, really —”

“Hey! Christ, slow down; I just wanted to ask if you wanted to go for a walk. My girlfriend, she’s out with some friends and I was just killing some time anyways.”

You know you shouldn’t. That the time away had been her time to heal, to process their goodbye from all those years ago, and yet — you’ve never been good at holding him at an arm’s distance, even when he’d been three thousand miles away.

So you say yes.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

You’re positive that this is all a fever dream, that there’s no way that Colt is beside you, that you’re laughing with him again, that it’s always when you least expect it that you’re thrown back into the waters again, unsure of where it’d started, and yet, not caring in the slightest.

The stars, you’ve never noticed them in the city. Not with all the light pollution circling high above the clouds, but with him, you’re positive that the stars shine for him, bouncing off the tips of his cheekbones, the tip of his nose. Two in the morning and you’ve never felt held more than this exact moment, not in so long. You don’t know if it’s the warmth of the alcohol or the orbit of his presence, but you're rosy-cheeked, desperate to find his physical touch next.

Leave it to him to jolt you out of your fantasy.

“How’s that boyfriend of yours, huh?”

You swallow. The 40s you’ve both bought in a dingy corner store like nineteen-year olds with fake IDs lie in the paper bags at their feet and the magnified haze of reality swings at your head. Drunk, and yet, too aware of your drunkenness, you squint at him, challenging him with a brashness only marked by the alcohol.

“What’s it to you, anyways?” Cross, you pick up the bottle, taking a swig of the drink.

Colt shrugs. “Curious. I’ve seen your pics with him.”

“You’ve been stalking me,” you reply, smirking.

Shaking his head, he chuckles. “And you can never answer the questions without being a smart-ass, can you?”

“It’s none of your business.” You pull your knees closer, hugging your legs to your chest. “Anyways, you haven’t said a word about your mystery girlfriend,” you challenge. It’s not like you want to hear about her, but the prospect of telling Colt all about your significant other brings a rock to your stomach.

You meet his eyes. Dark, stormy, you think you see a phantom of a frown, emotion betraying his usual aloof demeanor. But as soon as it crosses his face, it flies off into the distance, and he shrugs. “You always do this, Ellie — act like that I’m out to get you, comment on your life choices —”

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I the one that couldn’t handle my fucking anger whenever things didn’t go right, because if I remember correctly, that was you.” You bolt up, an accusatory finger thrown his way, and he matches your movement, drenched in passion.

“You’re going to bring that up? Because if we’re going to rehash our goddamn relationship right here, I’d be happy to list all of the things you did that were fucking frustrating to deal with.”

“Oh my gosh, yes. Please do that, I’m begging you,” she snaps back, sarcastic. Hesitating, you turn back to him, fire burning in your eyes. “Actually. Let’s do it. Say it. I dare you. Because if I remember correctly, it was me that left. Not you.”

Silence blankets the two of you, and his face hardens back up, body returning to the slack swagger he’d always carried so easily in his chest. Shoving his hands back into his pockets, he crouches back down, eyes aimed towards the water. “Whatever,” he snorts, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

He’d always been so nonchalant. Still is, and it’s what you’ve loved about him, the way he could tell you so much more with his eyes than his words. You’d loved Logan too, but he’d always been brash, the brushstrokes of his love painted in broad, simple marks. And yet Colt — the intricacies of his emotions have always been a puzzle that you’d been adamant to unscramble. How the flicker in the corners of his eyelids could mean that he’s upset, or the twitch in the corner of his mouth, deepening a shred of a dimple gave away his happiness. Even now, the ghosts of those imprints remain etched onto his face, and you can tell he longs for something more, a what if still lingering on their tongues.

And like always, you fall into his lips.

It’s a mistake.

And yet — a glorious, beautiful, irrevocable mistake, even more when you feel his lips press against yours. He’s missed me too, you think, and you wonder why he is the only person that has only made you feel like the world is yours. You are drunk, sitting on concrete by the muddy river and yet you want to savor the moment forever, inscribe it into your skin as a tattoo.

When you part, your teeth taste like sin and your hands are drenched in the blood of your guilt, but you’d risk it all to do it again.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

One more joy ride on his Cavalieri Novanta, you understand why you loved ( love ) him. Freedom has always come at a price for you, perpetually out of your reach but with him? He makes it easy to be in freefall, and as your hands wrap around his waist, you’re not afraid to hit the ground.

Coney Island is a hellmouth, but at 4AM, the silence is cathartic. You’ve never been to the beach without the buzz of crowds closing in on you, and yet, there is something distinctly wistful about the abandoned park. Still, quiet, with only the creak of the boards underneath your feet, the ocean is there, and yet — you only see Colt. If the Pacific had been an expanse of hope and new horizons, you think that the Atlantic is a deluge of melancholy. There is no room for your sorrows when you’ve finally been let out of your self-inflicted cage. He finds a place in the sand, and you follow along, head on his shoulder.

“You shouldn’t have kissed me.” And yet, his lips are in your hair, whispering. You think you feel him trace an I still love you with his lips, but you can’t be sure.

“I was drunk.” You still are. You can’t think straight. When you’re with him, all you see is him.

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“Since when have you cared about whether something’s right or not?” It shocks you to the core, more than you expect. It’s not him. This is not the Colt you know.

“You don’t want this. You don’t want me.”

“What - no. Of course I want you. I want you, Colt Kaneko.” You know you do. You’d leave everything behind, run far away with him until your feet bled. Frantic, you find his face, search for that shred of longing you’d become so familiarized with. You don’t find it. “Run away with me. You don’t - we can go back. We can go back.” Desperately, you think that if you say it enough, you could make it a truth.

“You know, Ellie.” Colt swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing in his neck. For once, you cannot read the emotion in his face, and it terrifies you. Seven years is too much time lost, and you think about all of the things you’ve missed.

You do know. Leaving him once, you know. That your longing and love for him has always relied on being apart, that two burning hot fires only created a larger fire that threatened to ruin everything else in its path.

“We would’ve burned each other up, El.” He’s closer now, only a breath away. A finger on your cheek, your hand snakes up and holds his hand, memorizing his touch. His thumb swipes away a tear that you didn’t even know had fallen.

He leans in this time.

A first kiss against the Californian sunset, the last rolled into a New York sunrise, you wonder if you’ll ever look at daybreak the same way again.

[elfyourmother]

I don’t think it’s silly at all—I mean I’ve basically been like this since Dragonsong lmao I’ve just never been invested in anything like I was with Ishgard and the Ishgardian quartet, even if there are things and characters I’ve enjoyed a lot since then

Emet and his story are the only things that have matched that and I’m so upset that he’s gone. I cried over that old queen, like actual tears when we got our old crystal back because I realized who made it. I cried again at his invocation on it.

And i think it’s why I’m so cold on [redacted], like on “Bitch Eating Crackers” level of distaste. It’s admittedly a deeply irrational bitterness I feel that he’s getting what I wanted for the characters I really loved (not just Emet but my Ishgardians), coupled by feeling like he’s being shoved down my throat by the game AND the fandom, and meanwhile I have to be content with a throwaway line about my fave

I honestly just haven’t cared about anything past 5.0 except the Estinien stuff (and I really feel like Charlie Brown and Estinien’s the football and the writers are Lucy van Pelt). I just get angry (Eden), triggered (Werlyt), or bored to tears reduced to skipping cutscenes (Yorha)

New Eden tier I haven’t done yet because I’m doing the void quests first, because I legitimately was so angry that I haven’t run the second tier since the patch day they came out on. I’m still livid about E8 because it rubbed salt in the wound. I hate that this game does not give a flying fuck about Ysayle or what she meant to WoL aside from the DRK quests

Elidibus was great (in 5.3 at least) but again that was about Emet more than anything and the thing I got from that patch more than anything was how much Emet loved us and E.

it felt like a swan song to him and it’s making me desperately sad so I cling to these delusions that a throwaway line means something

I’m still hoping we can get thru to Zenos somehow but I’m fully prepared to be disappointed. I’m just all about the relationships in this and the connections we have with the characters and it’s at its most rewarding to me when we get to really sit with that. the characters I love most all have those kinds of connections w us.

@elfyourmother

I feel almost silly to say this, but: While I love good storytelling and I can understand certain writing decisions from a technical standpoint, everything after 5.0 really makes me feel some kind of way. I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever been as attached to a character in any media as I have been to Emet - which makes all of this surprisingly emotional and bittersweet in a way I am not used to. 

It’s… very emotional inconvenient to say the least.

[dalishious]

Asunder Ch4 & Ch5 Greatest Hits

(Previous)

I’m combining these two chapters because separate there’s not a lot of content.

TL;DR: Wynne needs to get off her high horse

Well, what better way to start this than a quote about how things could so easily be better in the Circle?

[Cole] was also a perfect example of why the Circle didn't work. What if mages had been there to greet his arrival at the tower, with understanding rather than fear and scorn? What if he had been made to realize his talent wasn't terrifying, but unique and fascinating? -pg 37

This is part of Rhys reflecting on his time with Cole, who is living in the abandoned, run-down part of the tower. Rhys, who has a special connection with spirits, is the only one who can see and remember him. But at this point, Rhys isn’t really sure what Cole actually is. All Cole says is that he was brought by the templars, somehow got out, and is now somehow invisible. Like, Rhys isn’t even all that shocked to hear his horrid story. He’s probably heard it a thousand times.

Meanwhile, Evangeline is going to follow Rhys. Oh, Evangeline. Much like most of the characters in this book, one minute you seem okay, and the next, you say shit like this:

"So are we mages now confined to our chambers?" the First Enchanter called up to her. "Traditionally we have always been given the run of the tower. You cannot squeeze people into a smaller and smaller box and hope they will disappear." "Or there will be a rebellion? As in Kirkwall?" She allowed more annoyance into her voice than she intended. As she descended the stairs, blood vial in hand, she tried to keep her temper under control. "Conditions were harsh there, I'll grant you that. Considering all that's happened, I'd hope even you might agree it's not the same thing." He shrugged. "An attack on the Divine was foolish, without a doubt. All I ask is that we not all pay for one man's crime." Evangeline reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to him. "Perhaps Enchanter Rhys is not involved after all. What if he is being stabbed right now, to cover up someone else's guilt? The templars are here to protect mages, whether you like it or not." "Even if it kills us?" The man absently waved away her immediate retort. -pg 43-44

Every time someone says “Conditions were harsh” in Kirkwall, the Understatement Fairy gains another year of life.

What the First Enchanter is saying is not at all unreasonable. Last time I checked, every single templar isn’t punished when one commits a crime. (Although, the criminal templar is rarely punished themselves.) 

At that last bit, oh my god. 

Once, she supposed, these dungeons had been full, and the ancient torture chambers had seen regular use. She shuddered at the thought that those devices might ever be dusted off once again. It could come to that, if the mages pushed it. Evangeline wasn't foolish enough to imagine otherwise, and hopefully neither were they. -pg 44

I really love how she sees it as the mages forcing torture to be used. Love, as in wanting to puke. That is like, victim-blaming at it’s core.

Well, Rhys ends up confronting Cole about the murders going on. He then wants to take him and tell everyone, scaring Cole and a fight ensues. Evangeline catches Rhys seemingly destroying shit all on his own. Having already been suspected as part of the plot to kill the Divine, he gets taken to the dungeons himself.

They hold him for four days, without food or water. He is interrogated by Evangeline. He spends his time in the dark, crying, realizing what Cole had meant now, until eventually templars come and tell him he’s being released. They give him the first meal he’s seen in ages.

It was cold, practically congealed, but he didn't care. He shoved it into his mouth so fast he almost gagged, but it was still the best meal he could remember. The water poured down his throat like ambrosia. And then he keeled over, his stomach protesting violently. Kneeling on the ground he clutched at his guts while the men laughed. -pg 48

Rhys was held in the dungeon without food or water for four days. And the templars' reaction to his pain is laughter.

After an elven tranquil girl helps him clean up, he’s brought out with the rest of the mages in a gathering.  This next scene is so awesome, I had to highlight it in itself here. Basically, Wynne shows up, says the mages need to just shut up and do what they’re told in hopes of not being punished more severely, and Rhys calls her the fuck out. 

I suppose now’s as good a time as any to insert this:

Rhys watched in disgust as two mages started shoving each other nearby. One was a Libertarian, while the other was part of the Loyalist fraternity —"Chantry apologists," as some liked to call them, for they advocated obedience to the Chantry and bitterly opposed all attempts at independence. -pg 54

I only want to point this out because I think some people think the term 'Chantry apologists' was made by fandom, but it's not. It's used in canon to describe people who are pro Chantry.

Anyway, after it’s over, Rhys is called up to Seeker Lambert’s office. Adrian tags along and, as she says, “invites herself.”

This is the part where we find out Wynne is Rhys’ mother, as he greets her as such. She then, despite their public argument, says she needs his help in saving a friend who’s become an abomination (by going through what was went through in DA:O.) But not just any friend, a tranquil. Who, you know, isn’t supposed to be able to be possessed. 

"My help?" Rhys glanced at the Lord Seeker, and then Ser Evangeline, but their stony expressions offered no enlightenment. "What could you need my help for? And why would I offer it?" "Would you rather go back to the dungeons?" the Lord Seeker interjected. Rhys didn't answer. Inwardly he rankled at the threat. Wynne merely nodded, as if his reply was nothing more than she expected. -pg 56

This just about sums up their relationship, TBH. 

Lambert has a hissy fit, so Wynne shoves a message from the Divine down his throat (okay, she actually just gives it to him) that basically says “I can do what I want.” 

Well, Lambert grants it as long as Evangeline goes as an escort. He warns Wynne that “If your intention is to spare your son from justice, you will not be successful. Even the Divine will not protect you if our investigation is interfered with.” Ugh. Go soak your head, Lambert. This doesn’t even make sense, considering Wynne’s very appearance was her saying all the mages need to bend to the templars, or whatever. When has she, since appearing a few pages ago, even hinted at being anything but a ‘Chantry apologist?’ 

So, Rhys agrees to go, on account of the other option being back to the dungeons. But he requests Adrian come as well. Because someone needs to save this story. (And because Rhys doesn’t want her taking his place in his cell.)

And so the chapter ends, with Rhys just happy he’s getting out of the tower before his execution. What a silver lining, that is.

(Oh boys, do our heroes not even know what’s in store lmao.)