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Ron Dulin's 1956 Plymouth Fury
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The Ultimate YANDERE TYPES List (part 3) | SHACKLING + "DENPA" DELUSIONAL YANDERE
(this is PART 3 of a 4 Part Post. Click HERE to start at part 1)
Full sources and links to further reading will be below in the notes!
Remember to read the trigger warnings and content warnings. This is Yandere fiction we’re talking about, so it’s going to get messed up.
Themes + Trigger Warnings + Content Warnings:
Possessiveness, Obsessiveness, Unhealthy relationships, Religious themes, themes of sociopathy, themes of mental illness, hallucinations, delusions, hallucinations and delusions due to drugs, mentions of: physical abuse, sexual abuse, brainwashing, murder, suicide, murder-suicide, self-harm, stalking, panic attacks, cannibalism, necrophilia.
S H A C K L I N G
Primarily characterized by the need to “shackle”/keep their Darling to themselves.
SUBTYPES WITH THEIR VARIANTS
♡Easily jealous: Very common trait of nearly all Yanderes. These yanderes are usually not okay with their love interests being involved other people, romantically or platonically. Their opinions on whether another’s interaction with their Darling is acceptable or not depends on the yandere.
♡Self-imposing
Dependency: Takes care of their Darling in everything with the ultimate goal of making their Darling dependent on them.
Contact: Being with the Darling is the goal of this Yandere. Their ideal type of contact is ending up in their Darling’s care (sometimes even becoming financially dependent on their Darling). If any factors on unease is found in their shared life with the Darling they’ll often show their jealous nature.
♡Overprotective
Doll: Having the Darling under their surveillance is the major requirement for this Yandere, and they do not wish for their Darling to do as they please. They are doting, and as long as the Darling is within their monitoring range, the Yandere will spoil them.
Glassware: These Yandere are afraid of losing their Darling more than anything, so they safeguard them extremely carefully. Extremely fearful and is timid in their approach to the love interest.
♡Easily lonely: This Yandere is afraid of being alone above all else, so shackling their Darling to them becomes their aim.
♡Matching: Psychological identification is the ultimate aim of this Yandere, so they would force their Darling to match with them. More common when the Yandere and the Darling are of the same sex.
"D E N P A" D E L U S I O N A L
These Yandere usually suffer from some type of untreated mental or emotional unwellness. And as typical to those classified as delusional, they usually believe things that are undoubtedly untrue, especially when it comes to their Darling.
SUBTYPES WITH THEIR VARIANTS
♡Hysteric (Emotionally Unstable)
This Yandere is emotionally unstable and has panic attacks about the smallest things.
♡Desire for Ruin
Forced Murder-Suicide: These Yandere have given up on everything and will drag their Darling along with them in death.
Hope in the Next Life: These Yandere believe death is simply a stage which leads them onto the next life. At most, they’re regretful that they have to kill their Darling but in their mind their Darling “just has to endure it and it’ll all be over.”
♡Abnormal Behaviour
Seld-contained: These Yandere deal with their excessive love for their Darling alone, and perform abnormal or disturbing actions in places away from view. Usually the Darling is disgusted by them once they discover what they’re doing.
Abnormal Fetish: These Yandere perform abnormal or disturbing actions disregarding whether or not it may endanger a life. These actions are not self-contained and end up involving others.
♡Sociopath
Unlike those who have congenital psychosis, it is possible for this Yandere to develop affection for someone. These Yandere become fixated on their Darling and would carry out inhumane actions on other people without a thought. The type of Yandere who can shred someone into pieces without batting an eye will most likely be categorised here.
♡Blurring Fantasy from Reality
These Yandere blur the lines between fantasy and reality and will twist their interpretation of things to suit their needs. When they’re rejected, for example, they will just stare back blankly not understanding what is being conveyed.
♡Actor
These Yandere will pretend to be someone who has mental abnormalities and can switch their acting on and off at will. However, they are a swindler at heart so they can’t be considered mentally normal. Mysterious characters who are often outwardly cheerful easily fall into this category.
♡Religious (Worshipping)
Faults Viewed Favourably (Intoxicated): These Yandere worship their Darling as a god and agree with everything they do or say. It is mostly more accurate to say they have devotion to their Darling rather than romantic feelings.
Imposing Ideals: These Yandere see the love interest as their god, but they get furious if they have traits that differ from their image of the ideal god.
♡Religious (Sharing Values)
The target of worship for this Yandere is not the Darling. They are the type to invite and drag her into worshipping their wonderful “god” and would become furious when the Darling rejects their god.
♡Mental Disorder (Lack of Emotions)
These Yandere have difficulties with their emotions. They have no aversion to brutal acts of crime and may develop into the Abnormal Fetish variant which calls life and death into question as a method of expressing their love. They may cannibalize the love interest, practice necrophilia, or perform other inhumane acts.
♡Mental Disorder (Acquired)
Traumatized: These Yandere are not mentally stable due to abuse as a child or a side-effect of medication.
Delusions and Hallucinations: Yandere of this variant do abnormal things as a result of having injured their head or side-effects to drugs. There are also some who may have taken drugs that induced hallucinations before becoming this type of Yandere.
Lack of Knowledge: Yandere of this variant don’t know how to express their love as a result of abuse during childhood. Having no ill-intentions is a trait of this Yandere. The gap in this Yandere’s knowledge is not something that can be filled by just teaching them as it is a deeply rooted problem.
Sources:
This does not belong to me. I only gave a summary of what I read. ORIGINAL SOURCE LINKED HERE.
This information is from an English translation of material from an upcoming game called Yandere Town. UNTRANSLATED, ORIGINAL JAPANESE SOURCE LINKED HERE.
(Original translators, I have no problem with taking this down if you don't want me reposting your translation to my blog! ^_^)
♡If you want to see more content like this check out the Writing and Yandere Masterlist and if you want to learn about this blog check out all things sketchprincess02!♡
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#yandere#yandere town#yandere types#yandere x reader#yandere writing#yandere x darling#yandere prompts#yandere fanfiction#yandere fantasy#yandere blog#male yandere#tw yandere#yandere harem#yandere reverse harem#soft yandere#yandere list#tagging all my fandoms real quick#yandere obey me#yandere jojo's bizarre adventure#yandere record of ragnarok x reader#yandere diabolik lovers#yandere hetalia#yandere obey me x reader#yandere hetalia x reader#yandere record of ragnarok#yandere oc
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This is my (theoretical*) skykid
They were born in the intermission between the Season of Nesting and the Season of Duets, and they usually are around the Valley of Truimph. They would play either the piano or handpan(not sure yet), is a seld-proclaimed master thief (even though they rarely steal anything), and love to collect shiny stuff (star jar beloved). They love to fly, but aren't all too good at it, and crash into walls often, leading to their mask shattering, and they definitely tried to tame a dark dragon at least once, so they could be found in the Golden Wastelands.
(*theoretical because I don't have everything for it yet)
LIL THIEF! SO CUTE!
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FFXIV Write Entry #9: The Heart of Things
Prompt: fair || Master Post || On AO3
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It is a common element of Gyr Abanian folk stories, particularly the ones told to children, that the wisest and most heroic of characters are the ones bearing heavy scars or twisted features or the sharpest of tongues. One-Eyed Odin lives in the wild heart of the Dimwold, preferring the company of ravens and diakka and her wife to people, but the withered crone will grumblingly lead lost children by the hand back to their villagers as she teaches them the dangers and bounty of the bog, or appear at a wandering war-prince’s campfire, on her way to visit one of her many sisters, to share her hard-won wisdom (and perhaps even offer a token to help him win the day). Her son, Vidar of the Iron Arm, is brave but war-weary, his face a canyon of scars, but his equally scarred hands have gently escorted many a maiden across the mountain paths to the homes of their bridegrooms.
Synnove’s adult, analytical mind knows—or at least suspects, since her scholarly pursuits focus on mathematics and aetherology rather than history and folklore—that such stories likely evolved to teach the children of Gyr Abania to respect the veterans of the many wars and battles their people have fought. War has been the major source of her people’s coin since Ala Mhigo first rose on the shores of Loch Seld over a thousand years ago, and is war not kind to the body or the mind.
Inevitably, many of the villains of her childhood are beautiful: the Queen of Stone and Snow, cruel and capricious as the avalanches that wipe out herds and villages; Roric Silvertongue, whose prowess with a bow and manipulations both leads to the death of three kings before Princess Elysande comes out of the north to reclaim her birthright; Wicked Audr the Facestealer, who sows chaos simply for the joy of it using their thousand and one faces, each one flawless and radiant. Not that the reverse never happens: the Bone Eater is made to be as ugly on the outside as the inside, for example, and even in her old age, One-Eyed Odin’s wife Freyja is the most beautiful woman in Abalathia, and the kindest.
But Gyr Abanian lore, for the most part, warns of a beautiful face and a smooth tongue, and for all that Synnove grew up just as much on Ul’dahn tales which feature the opposite, those are the ones that lurk most often in the back of her mind.
Which is, perhaps, why she is so surprised that she isn’t wary of one Ser Aymeric de Borel.
The man is absurdly handsome and could have stepped off the pages of a storybook with a flawless face, hair as black as pitch, and eyes a clear and icy blue. His voice is a low, smooth tenor, his manners exquisite, his smile a picture-perfect politician’s. The stories of Wicked Audr and Roric Silvertongue hiss at her to beware; the ten years of living in Ul’dah remind her that pretty promises have less pretty prices.
But for all that during that first meeting he plays Alphinaud like a well-tuned fiddle, there’s a thread of earnestness about him. There was no hiding his genuine pleasure at meeting herself and her sisters; no hiding at all the spark of delight when he saw her specifically. That the carbuncles don’t seem to mind him, even like him (well, Galette and Tyr do—Ivar not liking someone is just a fact of life), is certainly a major point in his favor, too.
It’s that meeting in the Jeweled Crozier, the first time she ever sees him outside his office as Lord Commander, where she truly lets herself be charmed. There’s no artifice in his laughter, no scheming in his offer to treat her and Galette to hot chocolate. After the ruin of the Scions during the banquet and the otherwise cold reception she and her family have received from Ishgard outside House Fortemps, his warm regard is a soothing balm.
It isn’t until well into their stay in Ishgard, the conspiracy of the Dragonsong War slowly unraveling, that Synnove has a realization. She has spent a considerable amount of time with Ser Aymeric; they’ve run into one another on errands or various excursions into the city, and he’s come to Fortemps Manor more than once to invite her to a luncheon, or a café, or just a walk around one of the parks. “And Galette, and Tyr, and Ivar, are more than welcome to join if they so want to, of course.”
She is alone in the library she’s commandeered, because there is too much downtime for her to sit idly and not work on arcanima research even without most of her resources on hand, not even the carbuncles present. She is in the middle of drafting a revision to Galette’s Garuda-egi subprogram, when uncharacteristically, her mind begins to wander away from aetherophysics and to the handsome man she had had coffee with just yesterday. His cheerful greeting to their waitress and asking after her family before she took their order, the sparkle of his eyes as he recommended the chocolate torte, the soft rumble of his laugh as she told him about the firt time Ivar decided to take a nap in a working oven, which of course was the bread oven in the Gate mess, the warmth of his smile…
He’s courting me.
Synnove sets down her pen and stares unseeing at the far wall as her mind runs a malm a minute.
She’s never dreamed of romance or courting or marriage. She had just…fallen into her previous relationship, and what a mess that had been. Though, perhaps it wouldn’t have turned so ugly if they had courted properly, getting to know one another, realizing they weren’t much of a good fit after all. (Realizing the carbuncles hadn’t liked her chosen lady at all, and really, that needs to be top of her list for anything.)
She’s certainly never dreamed of an ideal partner, either, be they male or female or other. Her preferences in the rare bedmates she’s had in the past skew towards taller than her and stronger, but that’s not really the same. She supposes if she had to choose, it would be someone with whom she could have a relationship like her Aunt Angharad and Uncle Tyr did, or Grandmother and Grandfather.
Her memories of her childhood in Ala Mhigo are greyed out by time, but she remembers the feeling of those relationships if not the particulars. The comfortable silences between Auntie and Uncle as they leaned into one another, the way Grandfather would lead Grandmother in an impromptu waltz, gentle with her fragile bones as her soft laughter followed them down the halls. The respect, the care, the love. The work they had put into it.
Synnove thinks of how Ser Aymeric asks her questions about her job as an arcanist; he doesn’t always understand the high theory she has a tendency to segue into when she speaks more of her research than her duty as an agent of the thalassocracy, but he listens, and asks more questions to clarify. She thinks of his enthusiasm when she asks about him about a favorite book, or the soft, fond grief when she gently inquires about his parents, or the thin thread of frustration when he speaks on the stagnation of Ishgard's society. She thinks of the way the timber of his voice sends butterflies fluttering in her stomach, the way his midnight hair sometimes falls into his lovely blue eyes when he tilts his head and winks at her, the way he gently kisses her knuckles in greeting or departure. She thinks of how utterly delighted he was when Galette decided she was going to ride on his shoulders one day in the park, his chest puffing out with pride as he described the history of the rose gardens to them.
She thinks of it all, of what it could mean for her and for him and for them. She thinks of all the stories she was told as a child where a beautiful face could lead to ruin, but also the ones that say it didn’t matter if the face was beautiful or ugly, just that the heart was kind and just. She thinks of all the work it would take to make a Lord Commander and a Warrior of Light fit.
It would be worth it.
Synnove thinks of it all, and smiles.
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#ffxivwrite2023#final fantasy xiv#ffxiv#aymeric de borel#aymeric x wol#aymeric x synnove#oc: synnove greywolfe#worldbuilding#dt's writing#my brain: we have finally come up with an idea for this prompt#me: yay!#my brain: but first four hundred words of maybe-maybe not necessary worldbuilding#me: fuck you.
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"Doubt and depression will always crop up, I think. It can't be helped--the cropping up. What can be helped is the response. Always remember that doubt and depression will recur, but they're spotty. Love is strong and always there. My doubts lead me to love, and then I'm fine. So know that as strong as depression and doubt may appear, love is stronger."--Marian Seldes
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My Next Life As A Villainess All Routes Leads To Doom "Pirates Of Disturbance": Silva and Rozy Lind
I FINALLY finished seeing all the routes of the game and i finally figured out the main plots in each route: Prime Cet ( a man who thinks Rozy's family stole everything from him) wanted to sell the magic using nobles, probably to the mad scientist Riggardwell, with the help Frederick ( a man Cet took under his wing who despises women due to trauma caused by the abuse from his stepmother and stepsisters and lost his right as the future head of the family name after the stepmom birthed a son) and Lord Ryle ( a noble born in a magic family but born with no powers who caused his mother to die from drug depression and made him be shamed by his family which made him despite magic and was only able to become heir by marrying Liliana) who sneaked satches in the rooms that made people ill so they couldnt use magic, and planned to sink the ship with explosives, but his plan was busted by the Weiss pirates who are actually soldiers of Rozy's family who did it to investigate and find proof of his crimes. In most routes both Frederick and Cet's men were final bosses. In Silva's route Cet contacted the Sangrid Pirates, in which we saw the supporting characters feom the original otome game: Morgan the vice-captain and Akeen the cannoneer. And we also see Maria getting kidnapped by the noble who experimented on Silva as the final boss: Lord Riggardwell. Cet only manged to get arrested by finding evidence and in Rozy's route it hapoened after a boy who he used as a pawn became a witnes after he poisoned Katarina and was betrayed by the Prime. The boy and many others under Cet's control were taken in by Albert who is the king of Quid and Rozy's cousin. In Alan's route we discover Liliana( who loves Ryle despite not having magic due to witnessing his harrasment amd he treating her as a person and not a tool) sneaked aboard the ship due not Ryle not allowing her to go with him on public events and discover he wanted to divorce her due to not believing himself worthy of her love but even after that she still decides to be by his side. In all of the routes Maria is the main kidnapping target due to her light magic and in some she gets kidnapped and rescued.
Of all the characters from the game Silva and Rozy are the ones child Katarina impacted the most, not only in terms of character growth but they literally owns her their lives, without her realizing it or having the intention to unlike the other capture targets besides Geordo due to him not longer seeing her as a shield to prevent other girls approaching him.
Rozy is a noble whose family is relative with the king since his father's sister married the previous king( i think that was it) who are famous for being affectionate towards each other and are a family of inventors. Despite recieving praise by nobles at a young age he grew uo to be someone who say yes to everything without a sense of seld or purpose until he became a teen and started to doubt and question why did he even invented or cared for what he invented. His father sent him abroad in hopes to help him discover what he's missing and discover himself. One day he met Katarina when she got lost in the Royal Palace Garden and climbed a tree to find her dad. Roy climbed the tree and drawn to her character he took out the gummies he made and when she tasted them she smiled with her eyes shinning, seeing the joy something he made brought to someone Roy found the feeling he didn't knew was missing and was filled with purpose. Due to the situation between countris he had to go back but when he found out she was at the cruise he decided to see her again. In all the routes she meets him before the party where he gives her gummies and have a heart moment.
Silva lived in a foreign country where his family and village had the ability to see in the dark, which explains his purple glowing eyes, which they used it to hunt. One day his family saved a man and nursed him to health. However he turned out to be a slave tradee and because of him his village was burned down and he lost his family when they tried to fend them off to let him escape, he ended up captures and bought by Riggardwell, a noble obssesed with being beautiful( only that his concept was very twisted) which lead him to experiment on humans by trying to amplify of give them artificial abilities or by brainwashing or druggs. Silva was his masterpiece and he stayed with him for 6 years until he escaped. Not long after that he found Rozy being harrased by bad guys, not having the heart to leave him he saved him by shooting the bad guys. Even after Rozy said he saved his life, the guards insisted on taking Silva away due to his bad appearance. Deep down Roy knew that the guards didnt intens on congratulating and reward the boy and he was torn between obey and listen to what the guards said or help Silva. Looking at his blue eyes, which reminded him of Katarina, he decided to act on his own and made his choice announcing he wont be a puppet and extended his hand towards Silva. He took him in and they grew a relationshio similar to brothers. In Silva's route he ends up being adopted by his family.
If Katarina hadn't met Rozy and tried his gummies in the palace then he would have remained a yes-saying puppet without self or purpose that didn't act on his own even if it went against his heart and conscience or find the inspiration to invent. If that happened he would have never extended his hand to Silva after he saved his life and left him at the mercy of the guards which probably lead to him getting his eye scar, making him resent nobles and become evil for real and become captain of the Sangrid Pirates like in the original otome game ( especially because everytime he helped and did good to others he only recieved pain and evil in return) which would have led him to shot and kill Rozy while he was undercover as an engineer especially after recognizing him.
I'm not sure what happened in the routes of the original game except the bad endings where Maria gets sold by the pirates and Katarina gets shot by Silva, and Rozy being an NPC he didn't appear much in flashbacks/dreams besides when he was shot, and Silva was the villain and possible final boss that Evil Katarina worked with. Rozy would have been shot to death, or cured by Maria. Silva could have allied himself with Cet, if he survived, due to sharing mutual hate towards Rozy's family after being captured who would backstab him due to being related to Riggardwell, arrested by authorities, fleeing, or killed by one of the capture targets. And since he being a secret love target was just an assumption of Katarina amd her friend we don't know if that actually happened in any of the happy ending routes or if he even gets a redemption arc in the original game.
Thar reminded me of the spin off Verge of Doom where Katarina got get memories when she was ateen rather than a kid. It made me wonder how would this story turn out with Silva as the final villain boss ( that could lead to a fight with Geordo like in Geordo's route) with him being more evil, cold hearted, noble-hating, and cynical with the lives of the nobles on the ship in danger due to the pirates shooting and killing anyone who tries to escape or confront them ( in Rozy's route flashback they shot him, Cet, Frederick, and Ryle, which could have led to the scene where Silva reveals his past after recognizing Rozy) plus which the thing Katerina's old friend said of the pirates sinking the ship, even though there were scenes where Maria was capture and locked in a cage while still being on the ship.
The events could turn out like in the friends route, Katarina could meet Rozy and he could show her the gummies and her joy in their taste and an heart speech could lead to the spark awakening inside him and end up befriending him or him growing fond and curious of her. Since in the series all or some events from all the capture target routes happen this means Liliana could have sneaked aboard too. In the game it was Katarina the one who made a deal with the Singrid pirates, but here it could have been Cet, Riggardwell( i doubt it a bit), or the bully that tried to get Katarina expelled, or they could have tracked down the ship. Since Katarina didn't knew of Cet, Frederick, and Ryle crimes it could mean they were killed in the routes but they or at least one of them could have survived in some or one of the routes since we only have seen the bad routes scenes and Katarina doesn't know of the game since it was her friend who played it and barely has memory of it due to it being based on a fan book. I hope that at least Ryle makes it due to him having to make up with his wife Liliana.
It's most likely that Katarina would be hostage to Silva or one of his henchmen like in his route where she mistook him for a play actor. Seeing Maria restrained, her friends holdikg back due to her being captive and the rule of not using magic in public, the thought of Keith in the nurse office, and Silva about to shoot people could lead her to try to set herself free by kicking him where it hurts or bitting his arm. Or she could try to make a deal with them after seeing Rozy being shot, she tells him she and Maria or just her will be his hostages if he lets Maria heal Rozy and other people who were hurt like Ryle saying to not waste merchandise. This could spark his interest due to her wanting to help an "engineer" who he would later recognize and possibly keep hostage alongside or separate from Katarina to torture him or keep him hostage to keep them in check. There he could reveal his past to both of them and this could ignite guilt in Rozy in which Katarina would try to comfort him while begging Silva to let him live. I'm not sure of Silva would be a redeemable character or if the boy that saved Rozy still exists deep inside him, and lets not firget that she also thought Frederick was a secret romanceable character and look how he turned out. But i've seen some characters like that in mangas like Father i dont want to marry, My Beloved Oppressor, and Tomura from MHA and Killian from the movie Spies in Disguise.
He might try to make a move on Katarina or suprise of her naive dense nature, or Maria could tell him of the kind of person she was in the past and who she is now Katarina would also sympathize om how despite him trying to do good to others only to get bad in return and talk about how she also had a hard time when trying to make up for her mistakes. And Katarina could use a distraction or weakness to defeat him or bond with him like taking off his patch leading to her sewing his scar which xould drive him a bit mad esecially if she asks about it after or before hearing Rozyand Silva's meeting story. She could convince him to or sneak to find Keith and leave him a message of the explosives ( which she coyld have learned from either a flashback dream or Rozy warning her about them before they are separated) while the others make a plan to defeat the guards keeping them hostage and separate to find Katarina. This could have lead to finding Liliana which they would separate to respectively find Maria and Lord Ryle ( whose life is at stake due to the shot wound which could have lead to a scene simolar like in Alan's route but with roles reversed) while preventing the explosives from sinking the ship by having Alan use his water under the guise of Liliana's magic or find something to fill the holes from the explosives to make time to lead everyone to the boats. And about using magic the only one who would be allowed could be Nicol and his sister but the others would probably make an exception with Katarina at stake.
If they managed to defeat an arrest them despite leading the damaged ship to an island to prevent it from sinking( the ship is vital due to it containing proof of the prime's crimes and if Ryle survives he could become a witness). The island could be where Frederick or Cet's men would try to attack them by trying to make a deal with the pirates due to resentment towards's Rozy's family and try to sneak Maria away which could lead to a fight like when Keith made that eart monster. In there Cet's men or one of Sikva's shipmen( due to thinking he's growing soft for a girl) could turn on the pirates and Rozy depsite his injuries would put himself in front of Silva to protect him which could be the push to the start of his redemption despite him being confused especially if Katarina goes mad because of that or she herself gets attacked and he portects her making an excuse of valuable merchandise. This could lead to Cet sending the bird, authorities arresting both the men and pirates while Rozy reveals himself and begs Albert to let him take responsability for Silva so to make the same mustake twice, Silva could reject his hand at first but Katarina convinces him despite him denying it. During interogation could lwad to him revealing the lab of Riggardwell( who could be working with Cet despite not being arrested like how Katarina's maid didn't get married without Katarina's stoping her father) leading to evidence saved from the ship, Ryle confession if he made it, and evidenve in the Prime's home especially if the event where Katarina gets poisoned by a child who they later use against the prime and who Albert takes in alongside his friends happens. And it could lead to Maria being taken during the comotion which could leave them no choice but to habe Silva guide them to Riggardwell leading to the fight. Due to that Ryle and Silva could get reduced sentences like Raphael and Sora did. They could be doing comunity under supervision( i based it on the punishment of the fish pirates from One Piece) while Rozy and Silva could end their grudge.
I even had an idea where Silva reunites with his long lost sister Lynn whom he was separated from when she was a newborn after his village was burned out and his people were either killed or captured and sold into trafficking, I had ideas of what could have become of her besides perishing alongside her parents: She was sold and bought as a slave or to be trained as an assassin/spy/bodyguard fighter, found and raised by one of the guys that attacked her village, or was rescued from the trafficking ring or buyer and was brought up/adopted by a noble, knight or someone from the ship crew.
I really wished for his sister to appear if they one day make a series or manga based on this game
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Happy STS! Here go a few questions for you: What are your favorite parts of the storytelling process? As a writer, what would you say are your biggest writing strengths and weaknesses (as in, what are the things that are easiest/most difficult to write for you)? What is the most seld-indulgent thing you can write about (as in, what are the kinds of scenes/storylines that you will love to write about no matter what genre, style, or context you’re writing in)?
hello!!! wow this is a lot, happy sts & thank you for the ask!
fav parts of the storytelling process: i think my sweet spot is when i'm 5-10k words into a project—right after sorting out the opening scene (i'm so terrible at beginnings), and after sorting out all my characters' motivations and personalities. then i can really just get into my characters' heads and writing comes so much more easily to me!
biggest writing strengths & weaknesses: i am SO bad at planning anything LMAO. i always veer off from whatever outlines i make, so i tend to just pants my way through my projects. however this leads to long periods of time where i just have to idea where to continue my wips LOL... also consistency is tough for me—not only writing consistently, but keeping consistent character traits and interactions. as a strength, i guess my word choice? sometimes i surprise myself when i'm reading over the stuff i've written LOL
most self-indulgent thing i can write about: it's gotta be silly platonic besties doing stupid shit. this is why i'm incapable of writing anything dark or gothic—i just love writing silly idiot characters into my wips and having them go on fun adventures. like, maybe the fate of the world is at risk, but we're gonna go on a detour to hang upside down on park swings and see who stays on the longest. IDK just light-hearted moments like that. i just think genuine friendship is underrated in fiction, and tends to be overshadowed by lusty romance that takes itself too seriously
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PROMPT #29: [EXTRA CREDIT]
Marco could not wait to be rid of the winter, but the Undercity was slow to shake off its chill. At least three people had died from the cold overnight, one of them a cutpurse discovered along the furthest reaches of the limestone quarry. The other deaths had been less definitive: Wilma, the Eulalia Sigil lord, had been pacing all up and along the Sprawl until at least midmorning, shouting the name of one of her subordinates; they had been counted among the dead thereafter, only for them to show up bells later in a warm bed with the Stock Sigil's lead runner.
The other - a Heart-Seer known as Minnow and a handful of other names - had simply vanished, as their kind were wont to do.
He'd heard whispers that the floating market was meant to be held along the entrance to the Profondeurs, much to the displeasure of its residents; instead, the bustle of preparation, the comings and goings of people, food and merchandise led him to the Silverbrand family warehouses along the black river's docks. Old Lodewijk had likely used his influence to provide a warmer location, perhaps in exchange for a hefty cut of all proceeds; sure enough, upon his arrival, a majority of its visitors were already lingering within radius of the communal cooking fires, whether or not they were lined up for a free meal. Hazal was along their periphery, wrapped in an extra shawl and at least two layers of skirts with an orphan balanced upon her left hip. Marco could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen her in skirts.
"Griogair never showed last night," she said to him when he was in range of her whisper.
Marco paused, chilled for reasons that had little to do with the weather. "Then the goods-"
"Still back in the Sali, like as not." Hazal glanced over to the perimeter of the markets, where the nearest of the volunteer guards was eyeing a rack of weapons for sale. "Elsewise he only brought them part of the way."
Of all the Fists with whom they did business, Griogair was the loudest by far, as well as the easiest to provoke - but Marco had never known the man to be a coward. "Do you have anything else to sell today? Anything at all?"
"Nothing worth mentioning." Hazal bit her lower lip. "I'd have gone to check in by now, but I've got these two in my keeping." She gave the child at her hip a gentle little jostle, just as another small face, previously unbeknownst to Marco, peeked out from under Hazal's skirts.
"I'll take care of it," he promised her. Hazal frowned at once, but he doubled down. "You know it won't take me more than a few minutes. You just stay here with them - get yourselves warm."
"Marco-"
"If there's no sign of the goods, do I ask around?"
Hazal considered the question, then shook her head. "You looking is more than enough." More than enough of a help, he knew, but also a risk.
Were he just a few ilms taller, he might have departed with a kiss to each of Hazal's cheeks, as he'd seen her brothers do in jest; instead, he took off past the spot where the Silverbrand twins liked to hold court, down the old smuggling tunnels.
Any number of the Undercity's merchants had come this way in the last few bells alone, particularly those known for their dealings with Ala Mhigo above. Outside of a single sputtering torch and a few empty crates too large to deal with moving on a whim, the stretch sat empty. Marco made the rounds regardless, mostly to stave off his disappointment and panic; for much too long, he considered the means by which he might emerge from the tunnel out to the shores of Loch Seld, and how quickly he might be able to run to the monastery in person, if only so Hazal and her newest little ones could have something to eat-
"Marco?"
The little voice tore him out of his skin, as did the intense stare from a single green eye that met him when he turned around to greet it.
"Hey, Roshan," he said. Somehow he always seemed to run into Heart-Seers more than anyone else he knew, and always at the least opportune times. The resentment stung him for the bitterness it carried, along with a great side heaping of guilt: it wasn't as though the Heart-Seers could control the way they were, and they had less of a say in where they went than most other Undercity folk.
If Roshan could sense his confused emotional state, the boy showed no sign of it. "You're lookin' for that big box? The one for Hazal?"
"That's right."
"What was in it?"
Only then did Marco consider that perhaps he should have confirmed its contents with Hazal before setting out on his own to bring them back. "Stuff from that monastery out to the southeast. Soaps and cleaning powders and things." But this line of questioning brought him no further to his goals. "Do you know what happened to it?"
Roshan did not reply for a moment, and Marco debated reframing his question to something a bit more direct. At last, the boy replied, "Those black cloaks took it. Looong time ago. Couple weeks ago-" The boy then cut himself off and shook out his head of dark hair with great vigor. "No. 'Bout five bells ago. Still - long time."
It was certainly long enough for the Blackram Knights to claim the goods as abandoned cargo. Marco swore under his breath as he made to head back to Hazal, even as his instincts screamed that there was more to be uncovered.
"Roshan-" he said again, then turned around to find the tunnel empty. Still, he chanced the question to the open, stilled, freezing air. "You know what happened to Minnow? Last night?"
The voice emerged as if from everywhere and nowhere, so faint and echoed that it might not have come from Roshan at all: Last I saw 'er, she was leavin' with Griogair.
Marco could not remember the last good meal he'd had, but he felt it surface anew in his gut as a wave of fear. He inhaled so deeply as to set his vision to spinning; with each new breath, he tried and failed to convince himself of any of the hundreds of possible explanations for the words.
He emerged from the smuggling tunnels to find three or four of the Blackram Knights milling about along the line of merchants as if they belonged there, in between a fruit vendor and a seller of what appeared to be magickal tomes. At their feet rested an open crate with the Fist of Rhalgr's sigil stamped upon it. As his boots crossed the threshold of the market, a strong arm grabbed him around his shoulders. Immediately he lashed out, though his would-be captor found the knife at his back and relieved him of it.
"Looking for a windfall, are we, lad?"
A tall man in one of the Blackram Knights' heavy fur cloaks emerged into his field of view, then lowered his hood to reveal their leader himself. Marco had been taken right in front of the largest of the cookfires, in full view of those gathered there: a few dozen were already watching the scene play out, with more arriving by the second to take note of the commotion.
"That crate isn't yours," Marco protested weakly. He knew better to invoke Hazal's name with so many eyes and ears upon them; he could not see her, her children, or any of her allies amid the crowd.
"Oh?" Blackram raised an eyebrow. "Griogair delivered the shipment to me personally, with his regards. If there was some error on his part, I would be happy to rectify it."
Marco could only grit his teeth in impotent frustration. Panic had well and truly taken hold of him, for the Roegadyn Blackram Knight had lifted him around the chest with enough force for his feet to dangle an ilm or two above the dirt.
"Let me go," he said, in as firm of a voice as he could muster.
Blackram gave the Knight at Marco's back a nod, and he was lowered back to the earth. "You're welcome to examine it, if you've any doubt of its contents."
The invitation was moot; even from a distance of several fulms, Marco could see the cakes of soap stacked in neat lines - Hazal's goods, every one of them.
And then his anger got the better of him, for the first time in longer than he could recall, as he screamed, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MINNOW?!"
The crowd began to murmur, and Blackram stilled. His second - impossibly thin and pale - studied Marco from their vantage, as if seeing a ghost where Marco stood. But Blackram addressed Marco once more, so confident as to show no acknowledgment of the question laid out for him, despite its grave sincerity.
"It's well past time you ran off," he said. "Go on and continue playing at monkhood - Saint Marco."
The Knight released him with a push, and Marco staggered. He paused only to gather up his knife from the ground, then to give a last glance over his shoulder to confirm he was not about to be driven from the market by force; then he ran off in search of someplace, no matter how forbidding, where he would not be found for a long while.
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Salvation.
YES I AM A SINNER, AND YOU ARE A SAINT.
I am aware how different we were. Yet, I found myself irresistibly drawn to you. Your gentle and heavenly demeanor seemed like a distant eutopia from the chaos that defined my whole being. Your tranquility was a promise of heaven—something I yearned for but felt was forever out of reach. How could a wild, restless soul like mine ever find peace with someone so perfectly serene? Your presence made me yearn for the peace you embodied, even as I felt the weight of my own flaws.
Ethereal. Serene. Divine.
It hits to the core of my heart when I realized that my feelings were not yearning for your tranquility but it compelled me to confront my very own flaws and imperfections. It made me face the reality of my own troubled seld that leads to deeper my understanding of who I really am. Your presence brought both comfort and painful realization of the distance between us (I AM JUST A SINNER AND YOU ARE A SAINT!) The struggle between my sinful, chaotic self, and the saintly serenity that you represented was a painful uncertainty. I YEARNED FOR SALVATION.
Every prayer I say is a hidden plea for him, hoping to undo the divine bond that keeps him from me. My heart rebels against the idea that his vow to God should keep us apart. All I want was a world where our love is allowed, where we can be together despite of his sacred promises. Yet, here in the chapel’s silence, I am left with my desire, knowing that what I want is both sacred and sinful, a love that can never truly be mine. YOU ARE MARRIED TO GOD—tied by your sacred promises. Inside my soul, I long to break those sacred rules. YOU ARE THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT.
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"People are angriest at happy people. This has always been true, and this has always puzzled me. That lovely quote you gave me from Tennessee, about Eli [Wallach], which I was so happy to pass on to him. Tennessee was right:
Eli had learned the secret of pissing people off.
He was and is happy.
"I don't know that we can aim for happiness.
Happiness comes, like luck or love, according to the lives we lead, the people we are. To begrudge anyone their happiness or their luck guarantees that neither will visit you. Ever. If anyone in my life-known to me or not-is happy, then I'm happy.
"No one ever has or ever will dip into your share or stock of happiness. Only you can deplete it.
Don't do that"— Marian Seldes, 2008
Remember, you are loved and you are going to be fine.
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Stainless Steel Nuts Manufacturer in India - Sachiya Steel International
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James L. Price's 1950 Oldsmobile
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Early Television History - Broadcasts And Events.
1930: July 14 – For the first time in the United Kingdom, a television drama is broadcast. The drama is a production of Luigi Pirandello's The Man With the Flower in His Mouth; it is broadcast by the BBC from Baird's studios at 133 Long Acre, London.
November 5 – Baird television transmissions at Hairdressing Fair of Fashion include the world's first television commercial for the Eugène Method of permanent hair waving.
December 7 – W1XAV in Boston, Massachusetts broadcasts the first television commercial in the United States, of I.J Fox Furriers during The Fox Trappers.
1934: July 11 - In the U.S., the Communications Act of 1934 stipulates that commercial television stations "operate in the public interest, convenience, and necessity". The Federal Communications Commission (FCC) is charged with the responsibility of enforcing the act.
1937: January 19 – BBC Television broadcasts The Underground Murder Mystery by J. Bissell Thomas from its London station, the first play written for television.
May – Gilbert Seldes becomes the first television critic, with his Atlantic Monthly magazine article, the "Errors of Television".
May 14 – The BBC broadcasts a thirty-minute excerpt of Twelfth Night, the first known instance of a Shakespeare play televised. Among the cast are Peggy Ashcroft and Greer Garson.
November 11 (Armistice Day) – BBC Television devotes the evening to a broadcast of Journey's End by R. C. Sherriff (1928, set on the Western Front (World War I) in 1918), the first full-length television adaptation of a stage play. Reginald Tate plays the lead, Stanhope, a rôle he has performed extensively in the theatre.
November 27 – NBC in the United States broadcasts the first of six live teleplays of The Three Garridebs (based closely on Arthur Conan Doyle's story "The Adventure of the Three Garridebs"), the first known television pilot, in which Louis Hector becomes the first actor to play Sherlock Holmes on television.
1938: February 11 – BBC Television in England broadcasts the first ever television science-fiction, a 35-minute adaptation of a segment of the play R.U.R. by the Czech playwright Karel Čapek.
May 14 – The first quiz show, Spelling Bee, is televised by the BBC.
June 7 – An excerpt from Susan and God is the first Broadway play with its original cast to be broadcast on television. Station W2XBS uses exact replicas of the stage sets, with Nancy Coleman, Gertrude Lawrence and Paul McGrath appearing on the broadcast.
November – Due to freak atmospheric conditions, a BBC TV broadcast from London is received in New York City. A film camera was used to record the silent images which included the performance of a play, a cartoon, and other matter. A four-minute excerpt from this filmed recording survives and is, as of 2014, considered the only surviving example of a pre-war BBC television transmission.
November 12 - NBC's W2XBS broadcasts what is the first telecast of an unscheduled event, a fire on Wards Island near Manhattan.
1939: March 4 – The BBC Television Service broadcasts one of the first television plays specially written for the medium, Condemned To Be Shot by R. E. J. Brooke, live from its London studios at Alexandra Palace. The production is notable for the use of a camera as the first-person perspective of the play's unseen main character.
March 27 – The BBC broadcasts the entirety of Magyar Melody live from His Majesty's Theatre in London. The 175-minute broadcast is the first showing of a full-length musical by television.
April 30 – Franklin D. Roosevelt, appearing at the opening ceremony of the 1939 New York World's Fair, becomes the first President of the United States to give a speech that is broadcast by television.
May 3 – The Walt Disney cartoon Donald's Cousin Gus airs on NBC's experimental station W2XBS (later WNBC-TV) in New York. This marks the first movie cartoon to be televised in the United States.
November 23 – The earliest known live telecast of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is broadcast locally in New York.
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German Press Kit for Defenseless (1991). Below is the translated production info from inside, plus J.T. Walsh’s actor profile.
Lawyer T.K. Katwuller (Barbara Hershey) seems to have everything the successful woman of the 90s needs: she has a top job in a renowned law firm, a great apartment in Beverly Hills, great clothes. Only something clouds the image of the career lady: her private life is a single disaster.
After a failed marriage and several unsuccessful attempts to find Mr. Right, she ends up with an absolute Mr. Wrong - her client Steven Seldes (T.J. Walsh). He is charming, cosmopolitan - but married. And not only that. Seldes is in a complicated case where it is about porn movies and child pornography.
T.K. stands behind her client and his version - that he is only involved to the extent that he unknowingly rented a warehouse in which the porn was shot.
The events roll over after porn director Jack Hammer (John Kapelos) is brutally beaten up in Stevens' warehouse converted into a studio.
Shortly after the incident, T.K. visits the place of the event. She hopes to find relief material for her client - and runs to the police detective Lt. George Beutel (Sam Shepard) across the way.
From the first moment, there is a tension between the two between Attraction and aversion.
A little later, T.K., obviously by chance, meets her old college friend Ellie (Mary Beth Hurt), who has not been seen for years - and discovers that she is Steven's wife.
Ellie doesn't know anything about this relationship and invites T.K. to dinner to give her her husband and the half-grown daughter Janna (Kellie Overbey).
The evening is, as usual, highly embarrassing and ends for T.K. with the decision to end the private relationship with Steven immediately. She leaves the Seldes House, extremely excited and angry. Steven follows her to the waggon and T.K. demands her apartment key back. Steven convinces her to a debate a little later in his office.
T.K. arrives there before Steven and accidentally finds material that clearly proves Steven's suffocation in the porn affair.
After Steven arrives, she confronts him. There is a fierce dispute in the course of which Steven becomes tangible. T.K. tries to defend himself and stabs Steven in the arm with a letter opener. In a panic, she leaves the Office.
Arriving in front of the house, she has to realise that she left her car keys in Steven's office. She turns around again, but does not find Steven in the office - but loud traces of blood on the floor. A few moments later, she discovers Steven in the men's toilet - brutally murdered.
T.K. is calling for the police. Lt. Beutel leads the investigation, which finds that Steven was killed by several stitches in the neck and chest. In a certain awareness that she cannot possibly have killed Steven with a stab in the arm, T.K. decides not to report this incident to the police.
The next day brings another terrible surprise. Ellie was accused of the murder of her husband and is arrested.
Ellie insists on being defended by T.K. T.K. can be convinced. A fatal decision, as it soon turns out. T.K.'s attempts to prove Ellie's innocence gradually reveal secrets that connect the two women in a strange way....
J.T. WALSH (Steven Seldes)
Walsh embodies the morally bankrupt entrepreneur in WEHRLOS
Steven Seldes, whose dubious businesses are the starting point of the tragic-bloody events.
Walsh was born in San Francisco. At the age of five, he moved to Germany with his family and only returned to the states at the age of 19. He only started his acting career at the age of 30, after he had previously tried numerous other jobs.
The stage career began in Connecticut and led to New York at the St. Clemens Theatre and the Manhattan Theatre Company. In a "Richard III" production, he played alongside Al Pacino on the Broad-way. Other roles there: in Frank Gilroy's "Last Licks", next to Nicol Williamson in "Macbeth", with Glenda Jackson in "Rose", with Williamson again in "Glengarry Glen Ross".
On the cinema screen, he has now established himself as a villain from the service. In "Good Morning, Vietnam" he was Robin Williams stubborn superior, in Robert Towne's "Tequila Sunrise" (with Kurt Russell, Mel Gibson and Michelle Pfeiffer) an ambivalent drug searcher, in Fred Schepisi's "Russia House" a cold-nosted military, in Ron Howard's "Backdraft - Men Who Go Through Fire" just a corrupt municipal politician.
He has already been in front of the camera twice with Barbara Hershey: in Barry Levinson's "Tin Men" and in Woody Allen's "Hannah and her sisters".
Recently, he shot a Hollywood satire with "The Big Picture" and played the disclosure journalist Bob Woodward in "Wired".
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How would the LL crew react to the human reader having a voice kink? She really loves the sound and how bots’ voice resonate; especially, big bots like Megatron x3
Cyclonus becomes increasingly bashful around you. You’ve complimented his voice before when you’ve caught him singing along to the music playing at Swerve’s but this new knowledge puts that information into a whole new perspective. He’ll never admit it, but he’s a little more shy around you and can’t even talk around you if he’s actively thinking about it.
Whirl teases you, of course, because he’s Whirl. He’ll intentionally talk to you with what he deems a deep, sultry voice. It’s not, though. Whirl has a very distinctive voice but in no realm of reality would you deem it particularly sexy. Honestly, Ravage has a sexier voice than him. You tell him as much and he gets deeply offended.
Ravage is just amused by the entire situation. He’s also become a little more talkative around you though you think it has more to do with the fact that he thinks you have good taste and less to do with the fact that he knows you think his voice is hot. (Spoiler: it’s both.)
Megatron gives absolutely no indication that he has heard word of your kink. That does not, however, mean that he is unaware of it. In fact, he is all too aware of the way you watch his lips as he speaks, focused and attentive and eyes half-lidded. He maintains his composure but inside he’s flustered and maybe just a little bit flattered.
#ask#anon#sinning#transformers#transformers idw#mtmte#suggestive#cyclonus#whirl#ravage#megatron#i don’t generally have voice headcanons for characters but for those curious#i headcanon whirl sounds like jimmy urine the lead singer of mindless seld indulgence#kind of whiny and screechy and sort of higher pitched#fuckin typos it’s Mindless Self Indulgence#reader insert
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FFXIV Write Entry #25: At the End of All Things
Prompt: eschatology (free write!) || Master Post || On AO3
A/N: Spoilers for Endwalker, and warnings for blood and violence at the end of the piece.
Here we go.
--
It is a fundamental truth of combat that no battleplan survives first contact with the enemy.
Even with that in mind, as she falls unconscious from lack of air, Dancing Heron can’t help but think the Scions set a brand-new record for the plan going straight to shite even before they met their enemy. Just their damned luck.
The edge of existence is awful, desolate in both terrain and spirit. Heron and her sisters are quiet, where normally they would banter, attempting to fill the silence of the group as they traversed the landscape; even Rereha is subdued, the weight of Meteion’s dynamis and Thancred’s disappearance a pall over them all. Normally, Heron and Thancred would switch off who takes point and who guards the rear, but today Heron must stay in the lead.
And then Meteion taunts with what she did to Thancred, and what Thancred did in his last moments.
Heron is…she is not surprised.
Stay standing, despite all thought or reason, attempt to disable the enemy, and when that fails—give his everything for his family, to use Meteion’s own weapon against her and give them a chance to continue on, however slim it is. That’s Thancred. That he, somehow, was also able to give Y’shtola true sight in this broken hell, isn’t a surprise either; even when he played at the roguish cad, he always displayed a keen thoughtfulness for those he loved.
(She’s reminded, too, her lips quirking as the memory flits behind her eyes, of a sly comment Thancred made years ago, just before he and Lyse and her sisters and herself dove into the salty depths of Loch Seld to infiltrate Ala Mhigo in the lead up to the liberation, about being able to hold his breath. Rereha had taken the obvious bait, both bards falling into an innuendo exchange that had had the rest of them groaning.
Later, she promises herself, she’s going to beat Rereha to the obvious ribald joke when she lifts a tankard in memory.)
And then Estinien is next. And Y’shtola and Urianger. Finding the path forward, no matter what.
Heron cannot let herself break. She cannot. She’s the shield, the bulwark against danger, and she cannot falter. Thancred and Estinien and Y’shtola and Urianger have acknowledge more than once the willingness to lay down their lives to see this last journey through, have placed their faith in Heron and her sisters, and she will not insult them by mourning. Not now.
Later.
It’s G’raha’s sacrifice of all of them that causes the first real cracks.
Heron is the cool, calm adult of the Warriors of Light; Synnove gets mistaken for one only because she is very good at pretending to be one at the Arcanists’ Guild. Heron is reason and sense and the strong arm to dunk one of her sisters in the nearest body of water when they’re being gremlins.
And she holds a grudge worse than any of them.
The Crystal Exarch’s plan to save the First and avert the Eighth Umbral Calamity was, to put it mildly, fucking terrible. And as the most highly attuned to her aether and how to manipulate it, Synnove had been the best choice to contain the Lightwardens’ essences. Her little sister was a brilliant aetherologist, if the Exarch had taken the time to explain his theories before throwing them at the Lightwarden of Lakeland, or sat down with her at any point after instead of leaving Synnove to muddle through it on her own with the assumption there was no further information to be had—
Synnove had nearly paid for that willful negligence with her life. And when it came to the well-being of her sisters, Dancing Heron of Ul’dah did not forget, and she did not forgive.
G’raha Tia was not the Crystal Exarch—not entirely, the blending of selves effectively creating a new individual with the memories of the old. But while Synnove had been willing to allow a fresh start, with Rereha and Alakhai following her lead, Heron had not. Had it been fair? Perhaps not. G’raha, at least, had respected her simmering anger and left her be, and she had done the same.
It's the cheerful young man, so certain they’ll succeed and have the chance to adventure somewhere new, even in the face of Y’shtola’s warning that they can’t use the Azem stone to restore the lost Scions. He believes in them, enough to counter the despair of the omicrons, powerful enough to forge yet another path forward.
(She’s going to have to buy him at least one drink. Honor demands it.)
But if G’raha is the crack, the twins are the dam breaking.
“Please,” Heron breathes, falling to her knees before Alisaie and Alphinaud, “please not you, too.”
Alisaie throws herself into a hug, and Heron clings to her, tears pouring down her cheeks.
“Alphinaud’s plans have a way of working out, in the end,” Alisaie says, though her voice is suspiciously watery.
Alphinaud butts his way in, and Heron enfolds him into the hug, too, as her other siblings crowd around them; Rereha clings to Alphinaud’s waist, and Alakhai is hugging Alisaie from behind.
“Given the nature of this realm,” her little brother says, hesitantly, “it may be possible to do more than unbar your path. We might also pave you a new one. One where you find happiness at journey’s end.”
Heron squeezes her eyes shut and tightens her hold on the twins further. Her heart hurts, she should be the one doing this, it’s her job to put herself in the line of danger, to take the blows for them all—
“This much, I think we can believe with the utmost conviction.” Alphinaud’s voice is stronger now, giving truth to his claim. “No matter how deep our despair.
“So please, believe in us too. And press on.”
Oh, damn him, her brilliant little brother. But he’s right. She owes him the courtesy of that belief, when so often he has believed in her, in them.
Heron breathes out. “All right,” she says. “All right. Let’s see this through.”
--
The final walk is the hardest thing she has ever done.
Heron has Synnove talked under one arm, and Alakhai under the other, and Rereha is sitting on her shoulders with Heron’s shield supporting her back. Synnove and Alakhai are nearly mirrored, an arm each around Heron’s waist with their hands grasping at their other sister; Galette is tucked into Synnove’s free arm, warbling sadly. Rereha clings to Heron’s head.
They are each of them crying.
“I swear to any god listening that if one of you throw yourself on the metaphorical sword to make a new path,” Heron says through her tears, “I will resurrect you solely to beat you to death with my shield.”
“And if you do the same, I’m beating you with my grimoire,” Synnove sniffles.
“Please tell me one of you has thought of something,” Alakhai rasps.
“Yeah,” Rereha says. “Gonna need the orange rock candy.”
Heron can’t stop the sputtering laugh that escapes her as Synnove growls out, “Stop calling them that,” even as she reaches into her hip ouch to draw out Azem’s stone.
Rereha takes it, and Heron feels her lalafell sister prop it on the top of her head.
In this place of dynamis, of emotion given tangibility, Heron can hear echoes from the past, and it steadies her stance, firms her grip on her sisters. But it’s the last that gives her the will to take that final step:
Let’s finish this.
Heron helps Rereha down as Meteion taunts them; this messenger of the Meteia isn’t worth listening to. For all that she quails in the face of the task before her and her sisters, Heron won’t give up.
She owes it to her family not to.
Rereha steps forward, clutching the Azem stone in her hands. She rocks back and forth on her heels, and then looks over her shoulder at Synnove. “You aren’t going to like this,” she says.
“What are you—oh for fuck’s sake.” Synnove’s sigh is deep and weary. “He’s going to be an insufferable prick.”
“Isn’t he always?” Rereha says. For the first time since they arrived here, she’s cheerful, and Heron sighs herself as she realizes what Rereha is about to do.
She has always been exceptionally good at finding loopholes.
Turning back to Meteion, her grin still in place, Heron’s tiny sister says, as the Azem stone begins to glow, “All right, boys! Time to join the show!”
--
“Endsinger,” Synnove names the creature that rises from the flock of black-winged Meteia.
A single, tiny bluebird flits before the herald of the Final Days. Stop! their Meteion cries out to her sisters. Calm yourself! Please, stop!
The Scions try, oh, but they try, but in the face of ichor of the Endsinger’s despair and fury, and the echoes of dead stars, they fall before her, their magicks shattered, their weapons broken. Meteion pleads and pleads, but the Endsinger is deaf to her.
A single beat of the Endsinger’s wings sends nearly all the Scions airborne, leaving just Heron and her own sisters, and she watches in horror as the Endsinger gathers the means to destroy her family once and for all. For a moment, there is rage in her heart, and hatred, that despite all the Endsinger’s claims of the gift of oblivion, she would resort to such cruelty as to make them watch her family die.
Too bad for the Endsinger that Bloewyda and Wilfsunn are brilliant aetherologists.
“Girls,” Heron says, “it’s our show now.”
She knows they understand. They always do.
As one, they push themselves to their feet, and reach into pouches or pockets. Rereha’s teleportation device flies from her hand first. Synnove’s is next, then Alakhai’s.
Heron lifts her head; even from this distance she can see Alisaie reaching out, hear her call out, desperate and afraid: “Stop!”
If they make it back from this, she will deserve the ire of her youngest sister, and she will let the elezen maid rage at her for as long as she desires. And if they don’t, she hopes Alisaie will rage at her regardless. She is at peace with what must be done. This is her job.
Dancing Heron blows Alisaie a kiss, pushes the button, and lets go.
--
CRACK!
The walls of the dead suns, of the Meteia’s nest, shake, huge cracks now glinting across the starscape of eternity. Endsinger and Warriors of Light alike turn, all five of them stunned.
“My Ultimatum,” the Endsinger says, truly dumbfounded. “What is happening?”
Heron is briefly reminded of another time a being broke through the spaces between worlds to reach them, it’s Rere who puts into a single, hopeful word what each of the sisters are thinking: “Dad?”
Reality breaks.
It is not Midgardsormr.
A bluebird flutters to perch on Heron’s shoulder, bunching close to her cheek with her feathers floofed up in alarm. What is that?
Heron reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose, sighing gustily. “A headache,” she mutters.
Synnove is now beating her forehead on the shoulder opposite little Meteion, a rhythmic thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
“A concussion isn’t going to help,” Heron says over Rereha and Alakhai’s very loud, very colorful swearing. It’s always a fun day when Alakhai is reduced to using spoken words.
“No, but it makes me feel better,” Synnove says.
Well. The son of a bitch is offering a ride. This might as well happen.
--
“What do you think?” Heron says. “Four, or eight?”
“Eight’s always a good number,” Synnove says. Alakhai grunts her agreement.
On the back of a dragon, Rereha hands Heron the Azem stone. She holds it to her chest, breathes out, and puts all her will and hope into the stone, all of the love she has for her sisters and her chosen family and her star. The stone awakens once more, the summoning spell spilling forth bright and warm as the sun, painting golden beams around her and her sisters’ feet, creating a platform and Heron calls out:
Will you come?
A beat of her heart, two, three, four—and four more Warriors of Light, from across space and time, answer.
And now for tradition:
Heron grins ferociously and settles her shield on her arm, drawing her sword in the same motion. “Give us the beat,” she says.
Synnove begins to whistle, and drums her grimoire against her thigh; even in a realm of dynamis, the aethersong must be thick in Synnove’s mind with how quickly she settles into the rhythm. Alakhai picks it up after her, stomping a foot, knives in hand, and then Rereha’s voice, a soprano clear as a crystal bell, rises like a clarion call.
This is what Dancing Heron and Synnove Greywolfe and Rereha Reha and Alakhai Noykin do best:
Save the world.
--
Heron coughs, blood pouring from her mouth, and stares up blankly at infinity.
Zenos viator Galvus has rattled his last accursed breath, and good riddance. She feels filthy, giving him the fight that he has craved for so long, but it is over. He won’t haunt her or her sisters’ steps ever again.
But just as they gave it their all, so did he, and he hadn’t fought the living embodiment of oblivion beforehand.
She rolls over, coughing again, her arm holding her intestines inside her stomach, and crawls to where her sisters lay to gather them close.
Alakhai is wheezing, deep and heavy and desperate: collapsed lung. Just one, which is a small miracle, with how caved in her chest is. Her face is a ruin and she might be blind in one eye now.
Synnove’s right arm is broken in at least two places, her hand crushed, and she is deep in aethershock, her skin the same grey pallor as a corpse; Heron distantly recalls seeing another mage, after the Sacking of Rhalgr’s Reach, in the same state, who died of organ failure.
Rereha can’t move at all, her spine possibly broken. Her palms are torn down to the bone, and she is covered in blood. Most of it isn’t hers. The killing blow against Zenos, after all, was Rereha’s. The lalafell had used a moment of distraction while he was gutting Heron to launch herself off Synnove’s collapsing body and straight at the Garlean, a feral scream tearing her throat. She had driven the broken remains of her bow into his throat, over and over and over and over, until he had thrown her off himself with a gurgling roar and her body had impacted the ground with a sickening crunch.
They’re bleeding out. If fate is kind, they’ll breath their last at the same time.
Heron collapses onto her back, blood thick in her throat and mouth, but she’s got her sisters now and she stares up at the end of the universe once more. Synnove lolls her head onto Heron’s broken shoulder, and Alakhai tucks herself into Heron’s ruined side, and Rereha buries her face in Heron’s blood-soaked hair.
“I love you,” Heron croaks.
“Love you, too,” Rereha whispers.
“I’m glad I picked you three,” Synnove says, more of a sigh. “I’m glad you picked me back.”
“See you on the other side,” Alakhai murmurs.
The only sound now is their uneven, crackling breaths.
In the starscape above them, Heron sees a pair of blue tailfeathers wheel, and a glint of something…metallic?
There’s a clatter, suddenly, just next to her head, opposite of Rereha. An eerie, familiar beeping croons in her ear, and slowly, horribly, despite the pain that infuses every cell of her being, Heron laughs.
They taught her well, the little hopesinger.
“Thank you,” she mouths.
The world goes black.
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#ffxivwrite2022#final fantasy xiv#ffxiv#oc: dancing heron#oc: rereha reha#oc: synnove greywolfe#oc: alakhai noykin#meteion#the endsinger#dt's writing
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