#like the correlation is so fucking obvious

[overclockedopossum]

"trans men have structural power"

[baekuras]

Being awake cancelled, my thoughts going "Man, isn't it crazy how rarely Rand had to get physical with Asmodean? It really was only the Rhuidean fight and then the first push of boundaries with the floating over wineglass (and trying to overjustify it of course. Especially funny with how the wise ones despite all their humiliation and tactics don't have a grip on Egwene. Or all the Aes Sedai "teachings" via switching and whatnot but well-"

My brain: "Man isn't it crazy how Rand has literally been less physical and overall abusive to a Forsaken-his sworn enemy- than your own mother has been to you?

brain is cancelled-this could have just been some fun thinking about both the style of writing/storytelling and also just how Rand deals with things (for now) while acknowleding the wildley different dynamics going on, but no, had to go for my own throat here hUH

[overdramaticbaddie]

Boutta rant abt my blorbo sooo spoiler warning for new Deltarune chaptersss

So.

Berdly.

We got almost NOTHING about him from the new chapters, but I think he deserves to be discussed in light of the new information.

First things first, I don't think enough people talk about the obvious parallels between him and Susie.

Both have spent a lot of time antagonizing Kris, Both sided with the "Villian" in the dark world, and used it to fulfill various fantasies of theirs (susie getting to beat up everyone there, berdly trynna build "smarttopia" or whatever) Both experienced significant character development in the dark world (unfortunately, berdly immediately backtracked as soon as he "woke up") Both cope with feelings of inadequacy by lashing out at others and trying to make themselves seem "bigger" and "cooler" than they actually are (Susie through physical intimidation and Berdly through manipulation and self-aggrandizing behavior) Both have strangely protective tendancies???? Both feel like side characters in their own story. Both are unpopular with peers and authority figures Not to mention, their weapons are EXTREMELY SIMILAR WTF

And also, something I find really interesting,

Neither of them are a part of "the three heroes" of the prophecy.

LONG-ASS PROPHECY INTERPRETATION TANGENT THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH BERDLY:

The part of the prophecy where the three "heroes" are mentioned, when put in order, reads as follows:

"The first hero. The cage, with human soul and parts.

The second hero, the girl with hope crossed on her heart.

The third hero, the prince, alone in deepest dark.

And last ,was the girl. At last, was the girl."

While it may seem that Susie would be the second hero, especially with how she is associated with hope in chapter 4, the image that goes with that line appears to be a girl in robes, holding a sword (possibly the sword made from the thorn ring) implies noelle may have actually been the one intended to be the second hero.

The way the image of the girl holding the sword is also used with "love finds the girl", with some of these images including a small SOUL in the chest of the girl pictured. This correlates to how, in the weird route, we seem to have implanted a piece of our SOUL, and thus our control, into her. As well as the implications of "love" finding her, suggesting that the second hero will have violence thrust upon her, which happens to Noelle in the weird route.

That, plus the fact that Kris wanted to be partnered with noelle in the group project, that Susie only ended up in the dark world by pure coincidence, further suggests that Noelle was the second hero intended by the prophecy.

Also, the image that goes with the "At last was the girl" line, looks exactly like "Rude Buster", one of Susie's attacks, which she uses to defeat the titan along with Gerson at the end of chapter 4.

LONG-ASS PROPHECY INTERPRETATION TANGENT THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH BERDLY IS OVER, NOW I WILL CONTINUE TO TALK ABT THE PROPHECY JUST WITH BERDLY NOW

Now that that's out of the way, I wanna talk about how the prophecy deals with Berdly, which I find FASCINATING.

If you're confused because you don't remember seeing anything at all relating to Berdly in the prophecy in Chapter 4, you're 100% right on the FUCKING MONEY.

He's

NOT

FUCKING

IN THERE

He's never mentioned ONCE, despite the prophecy discussing many characters and events that go beyond the main "three heroes" thing,

whether it's King's defeat, Queen's "chariots", Tenna being sliced up, Lancer saying Toothpaste boy, Asgore in asylum, fuckign JOCKINGTON GROWING A BEARD, the prophecy is littered with references to things that happen all over previous chapters.

But, the thing is, NONE of those things would have been changed if Berdly wasn't in the game.

As far as the prophecy is concerned,

Berdly doesn't exist.

This wouldn't seem too important if it weren't for the fact that he is DIRECTLY INVOLVED in the ONLY game-changing decision SO FAR.

Without him, there is no weird route.

Sure, you can choose to cancel it several times afterward, but the thing is, that's the only time you shift the route of the game. After that, you can only either double down or backtrack, not forge any new paths.

It's strange that someone who functions as the marker between to distinct paths wouldn't be mentioned in the prophecy.

So, here's a little theory of mine:

I think Berdly's the big sleeper character in Deltarune.

Think about it,

out of the main 5, (the lighteners and ralsei,) he's the one we know LEAST about. Sure, they all have mysteries attached to them, but that's part of the reason they're THERE.

Berdly so far has nothing going for him storywise besides him being an annoying fuckwad who gets his shit absolutely wrecked in the weird route.

I genuinely don't believe Toby Fox would make such a unique character who fits the themes of the game perfectly just to eat shit in an alternative route and be forgotten.

I think players are SUPPOSSED to forget him, SUPPOSED to just be like ugh it's that fuckin bird that I hate and move on.

ESPECIALLY since he gets so little screentime in the new chapters, I think Toby is lulling us into a false sense of berdly-less security, letting us think he's served his purpose in the plot.

(and Ik this is probably hard to believe, since if ur reading this ur probably in the corner of the fandom that LOVES berdly, but most Deltarune players do tend to totally dismiss him)

I think Tony Forks is gonna hit us with a berdly-shaped truck in SPECIFICALLY chapter 5, since the weird route only affects ONE THING in the light world outside of Kris and Noelle's sanity.

Berdly being at the festival.

ISTG SOMETHING'S GONNA HAPPEN WITH HIM

but yea, berdly is 100% a sleeper in the plot.

Also kerdly is canon.

[woncheolisms]

compression. (sakusa kiyoomi x reader)

summary: atsumu is the perfect person to feed your obsession with kiyoomi’s arms.

word count: 1172

warnings: swearing, very mildly suggestive (if you squint), detailed descriptions of kiyoomi’s arms in compression sleeves so it’s not for the faint hearted

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

When you studied Marketing and Communications in university, you didn’t exactly anticipate that your future would include you managing a V League Division 1 sports team. But every day when you went into work, you thanked the gods above that this is where your career path had led you, because that meant you could ogle Sakusa Kiyoomi and his infamous compression sleeves all day.

Oftentimes you were certain Kiyoomi didn’t mean anything by them. For him, they were practical. They kept his arms taut and ready for the ball. They made his movements sharper. He received the ball better. He didn’t have to feel his bare skin on the dirty court. These were all reasons you had heard straight out of his mouth. When you heard him mention them so nonchalantly, it almost made you feel bad for the absolutely sinful- borderline deranged- thoughts you had in your head about the way those sleeves made his arms look.

You were well aware of the kind of thoughts Kiyoomi’s choice of athletic wear caused among his fans. To put it simply and bluntly, they went feral over it. There were whole Twitter accounts dedicated to just his arms, or his chest. And as someone who often managed social media profiles for some of the members, you got to see the most unhinged of these comments with your own two eyes. And you would be the first to (secretly) admit that you agreed with 90% of what was being said, because holy shit did those sleeves do something to you.

Most of the time during practice, you could feel your eyes drift back over to the man in question, wearing a black sports tee and those godforsaken sleeves, working up quite the set as they played set after set to prepare for their next game. As the hours passed, Kiyoomi would get more and more disheveled, curls becoming unruly enough that he would grab a towel, biceps flexing as he ran it over the nape of his neck and dipped into the collar of his shirt. Christ almighty.

You should’ve known that you would eventually get caught. But if it was anyone who would notice, you had expected it to be Meian or maybe Coach Foster. But the person who did bring it up to you happened to be the biggest nightmare in this scenario; Miya Atsumu.

“Ya should be a little less obvious ‘bout it.” He commented when he trudged over to the bench where you sat, grabbing a water bottle and beginning to chug. You tore your eyes from Kiyoomi who now had his back to you, the muscles under his shirt flexing with every movement. You raised an eyebrow at the blond, not yet correlating his words with your hidden obsession. He placed the bottle down and placed a hand on his hip, giving you a knowing smirk.

“A blind grandma could notice the way yer lookin’ at him.”

Your eyes widened and cheeks flamed when he nudged his head in Kiyoomi’s direction, and you knew you had been caught. You clenched your jaw hard.

“You say a single word-”

He threw his hands up as if in surrender, effectively silencing your threat in its tracks.

“I won’t, promise! But there is one thing…..”

You groaned loudly, throwing your head back. Of course, of fucking course he would blackmail you with this.

“What do you want?” You deadpanned, glaring at him and preparing for the worst.

Atsumu looked a bit affronted, as if the mere insinuation that he might want something was preposterous to him. You gave him another tired look, until he sighed and gave up, plopping down heavily on the bench next to you.

“A phone number. Ya know that cute girl who comes by once a month? From the Volleyball Association?”

“No.”

Atsumu’s mouth dropped like a child who just got slapped. “Hey c’mon! Ya didn’t even hear me out!”

You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a characteristic frontal headache begin to build, courtesy of Miya Atsumu. “I’m tired of setting you up with people, Tsumu! It won’t end well, as always-”

“I’ll get you a picture of Omi with his compression sleeves.”

You give him an unimpressed look. “I can get hundreds of those off the internet.”

“I’ll get you a picture of Omi with just his compression sleeves.”

That made you halt in your tracks. You searched Atsumu’s face for any form of mockery or lie, and you found none. Your eyebrows shot up when you realized he was being serious.

“In the locker room. I can get it for ya today.”

Oh my god. Instinctively, your eyes darted over to the man in question, who was talking to Hinata about something. It looked like volleyball tips since he had his arms before him in a receiving position, and Hinata was rapidly nodding to what he was saying.

“No.” You shook your head. “No, that’s wrong.”

“I’ll take a selfie with him, yeah? He will know there’s a photo. And I can send it in the groupchat.”

You look back at Atsumu, seriously contemplating his offer. He kept yapping, as per usual, thinking that the more he talked, the likelier it would be to convince you. And the bastard was right, it was working.

“No one else will bat an eye. We see each other in the lockers all the time. No big deal.”

You bit your lip in thought. The possibility of seeing Kiyoomi shirtless and only in compression sleeves had your pulse rising.

“And you just want her number in return?”

Atsumu nodded eagerly. You gave him a narrow-eyed glare.

“Send the picture. Then I will give you the number.”

His triumphant grin made it feel like he had already won. “Deal.”

That evening, when your phone pinged with a text notification, you nearly flew across the bed to grab it, opening the picture Atsumu sent in the groupchat with eager fingers and freezing as soon as you laid eyes on it.

Atsumu had held up his end of the bargain spectacularly.

He had taken the picture with Kiyoomi a little further in the background, so he could get the man’s full torso in it. He was facing slightly away from the camera, but his face was turned towards it, capturing the scowl between his eyebrows and the little pout of his mouth. He was gloriously shirtless, still a bit sweaty from practice, and he held his shirt in his hand, one arm flexed as he held it while the other was held carelessly by his side, compression sleeves hugging the cords of toned muscles just right.

There was another ping, pulling you out of your trance and making you realize just how dry your mouth had gotten. Atsumu had messaged you privately.

“My payment? ;)”

You rolled your eyes and sent him the number, immediately going back to the picture and starring it for future reference, a tiny smile quirking up the corner of your lip as you did so.

[sturnslutz]

fully introducing.. stalker!chris and bimbo!reader

you really fucking hated chris. his smug looks. his annoying laugh. his contagious ass smile. you didn’t even know why you both started hating each other, all you ever really remembered was that it started back all the way in highschool when you and matt first started hooking up.

matt’s and your history went on for a bit, until you both mutually called it off, and remained close friends.

you became a regular at the sturniolo house- and everyone knew you as matt’s friend. then eventually nick’s, but never chris’s. he always called you ‘dumb’ and that you 'lacked' common sense, but honestly you couldn’t control it. it was just how you were.

his brothers berated him for it, something you always appreciated them for. when they moved out of boston and to la after highschool, you kinda just forgot about them. well, you kinda forget everything, but the boys just vanished.

one day, when matt texted you out of nowhere talking about how him and nick missed you so much, it honestly made you question for a minute who the fuck they were. when you remembered, you immediately texted back, inviting them back to boston to come meet up with them.

you stalked their instagrams for a bit, and they’ve been doing really well. 7+ mil subscribers on youtube, 3+ mil on insta, and you were happy for them. you couldn’t help but linger on chris’s profile just a tad bit longer than matt and nick’s.

he looked good. too good for your liking. you reminded yourself about the last thing he said to you- in private- before they left.

“you’re a fucking dumb bimbo bitch.”

obviously he was 18, but it still hurt.

honestly you hadn’t changed since the last time you saw them. you knew you were a bimbo, and you weren’t too “proud” of it, but you weren’t ashamed. it was just how you were. the one thing that didn’t correlate was how emotionally smart you were.

you were never school smart, but you somehow knew how someone felt when they couldn’t say it out loud, and you knew how to communicate in some weird way. you learned that chris wasn’t all the way there, and you couldn’t really tell why.

adhd, sure. but it was something else- something deeper. darker, even. and you just couldn’t wrap your mind around it, no matter how hard you tried.

when the boys walked into the cafe, your breath hitched. they all looked really fucking good. grown, mature, and just downright fucking sexy.

small talk went by, and you said hi to each of them, even chris. but his eyes were more directed somewhere else. you too, had also grown if it wasn’t obvious.

matt and nick had to be excused for a minute for something you didn’t quite catch- and it left you and chris.

“you look different.” he said blankly. your eyes moved from your fresh new set of nails, the diamonds just hitting your eyes in the right way.

“you do too, chris.” you said smiling a bit, honestly just trying to break the awkwardness. “you’re still lookin’ like a bimbo, seems to say you’re still actin’ like one too.”

“i am not.” you say a bit more high-pitched then you would like, and he raises his eyebrows. “right.” you lowered your eyes at him. “are you never gonna stop being a fucking asshole.”

“are you never gonna stop being annoying, candy?”

“says the guy who can’t stop looking at my fucking tits since you came in here.” he shrugged. “not ashamed of it.” “whore.” “slut.”

you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, and looking to your left- suddenly becoming a lot more interested in the pretty paintings against the walls.

he scoffed, laughing a bit. “proved my point.” you looked back at him, and followed his eyes. “stop looking at my tits, chris.” he rolled his eyes, picking up his phone and not even responding back.

matt and nick eventually came back, and started up the conversation again, but told you they had to go see their parents for a bit. “we’re gonna be in boston for like 3 more weeks, so if you ever wanna come down to the house, you’re more than welcome to, candy.” matt said, happily.

“thanks, matt!” you smiled wide as you looked at all three of them. chris sighed, moving in his seat uncomfortably. you couldn’t tell what was really going on, and why he was acting so weird.

matt and nick said their goodbye’s, hugging you in the process. they left, leaving chris to say goodbye.

“i didn’t say you looked bad when i said you looked different. you look hotter than you did in highschool.” and with that- he left, leaving you standing in the middle of the cafe, confused, in your all-too pink outfit.

a/n- im so fucking excited for this au omg yall arent even ready and i promise yall i will not be abandoning this

divider by : @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[denim-devil]

Bad To The Bone - Week 1 | Mirror Fucking/Hair pulling

Summary - When hearts collide, Billy chooses to chase after the longing thoughts that have only you in the midsts of them all, the biggest halloween party ever hosted in the small town of Hawkins was his best bet to finally entice those very thoughts…

Pairings - Bully!Billy Hargrove x M!Reader

The cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he stalked the crowded room, his eyes lingering on the current sight before him. Steve’s hands were far to close for his liking, lightly grabbing at your swaying hips.

What had felt like an eternity, Billy slowly crept toward the two of you, anger and malice ran through his veins like the blood circulating his body had done, bubbling up, growing closer to a boiling point.

Steve’s lips felt warm against the crook of your neck, his teeth nibbling gently against the dampness. Although under the influence, you had no desire to stop him, not after the end of your mid-night rendezvous with the current king and bully of Hawkins High.

A slight shove had forced the ridiculed Steve into the wall beside the two of you, a harsh bang sounding out into the room, even with the noisy crowd of teenage students and the humming beats of madonna…it was loud.

“Watch it asshole-“

Steve ushered out with a hiss. As if time itself was a concept, you stood, frozen. Billy stood with a proud smirk, his black, slightly damp leather jacket was hung open, showcasing the toned physique you were once frequented with.

“Watch what? I didn’t do anything”

Billy tuts, his eyes flicking over to you, looking you up and down like he would his next meal, like a dangerous predator to it’s prey. A certain ache began to pool between your legs, what were once pale, your cheeks were now a deep shade of crimson, taking note of Billy’s looming figure.

“Oh yeah? You wanna bet?”

Taking a puff of his cigarette, it goes back to laying loose between a shit-eaten grin, his tongue flicking over the orange tip. Billy had no time for games, nor Steve’s bullshit, instead he opted for the obvious choice, charging toward you with his fingerless leather gloves which eagerly wrapped around your bicep, yanking you toward the stairs.

“Oh your in so much shit sweetheart”

He half growled, half whispered, even with the music blaring and the crowd going back to dancing and chatting, Billy took himself seriously, only wanting you to know what was to follow as you stumbled up behind him, leaving a confused Steve, stammering around in the very same corner.

He hadn’t bothered to look back, feeling how limp your wrist was within his grip had told him everything he needed to know, you had no fight to win, Billy had already won, more so with the dingy bathroom door flying open with a tug and a kick.

Thump, thump, thump. It rang through your ears like an alarm, heartbeat pacing like a jockey and it’s horse during a race, running quicker once the door slammed shut and the click of the lock latching away both your confidence and the thoughts of an impending escape.

He stood, flicking the cigarette bud onto the floor before raising one of his heavy boots, stomping the crisp leftovers into dust.

You watched the older male proceed to shake of his jacket, leaving him in just the denim jeans he was naturally acquainted with.

“You better think twice before ever letting Harrington touch you like that again-“

Nodding was the only beneficial answer, earning a daring smirk from the manic jock before you. His golden locks were matted yet matched the darkness now claiming the once ocean blue eyes he usually sported, his hair resting against the sweaty tan skin that covered his innards.

His steps grew closer with each thump correlating with your heartbeat, black boots treading against the tiled floor toward you until his warm breath fanned lightly across your pink-dusted cheeks.

“Billy- please, it was nothing, j-just needed something”

He tutted before pressing his body against you, pushing you further into the floral wallpapered brick behind, instantly making you feel small and defenceless.

“Save it- you need to learn a thing or two…”

Billy doesn’t think twice, he normally doesn’t before acting on said thoughts, twisting your body, roughly laying you stomach first against the counter top that faced the elongated mirror before you.

His body, warm and delectable now rolled into your arched form from behind, pushing most of his growing erection against you, forcing you to feel your own impending doom.

“You should be thanking me sweetheart, you got this cock all to yourself and you were ready to throw it away like dog shit- fuck”

You incoherently mumble a short “no” before pushing back momentarily, testing the waters. Luck had happened to be in your favour, a starving Billy, craving nothing but to ravish you groaned before pulling back.

It was easier to see this way, watching eager finger tips make quick work of his leather belt and crotch zipper, both thumbs hooking into the burgundy band of his boxers, wiggling them down slowly, past the light trimming of blonde pubes surrounding his veiny, thick base.

“Can’t stop thinking about how easily you take this dick”

Your tongue trails over your dry lips, watching as the band smoothly runs further down, catching on the moist tip before being completely removed, his cock bounces, loudly slapping into his toned abdomen, the head angry with urgency, a deep crimson in colour, he was thick from base to tip, a singular girthy vein running on the underside, splitting off just underneath the curve of his tip.

He chuckled at the reaction, watching as the same lips he used to get himself once in the janitor closet after gym class hung agape, eyes wide with earnest and adoration.

“Don’cha think Harrington would give it in so easy? Look at you, all dolled up for the wrong guy-“

You groan into the warm air of the now secluded space, the bathroom, although big felt small with the presence of Billy watching over you, his shadow looming in every corner from the dim strip light placed just above the mirror, forwarding his domineering ways.

“Billy- I got dolled up for you…”

As if words were a dagger, sharp and pointy, cutting into his skin, seeping deeper and changing his whole point of view. It was clear now, from the tight, revealing light wash jeans that hugged every spot he had both discovered and devoured more then once to the dainty leather jacket that had you looking smaller then usual, swallowing you up.

“Oh really? Fuck princess, you really know how to rile up a guy”

His fingers tips scrambled from your inner thighs upward, towards the belt loops and eventually to the knot holding you together.

Billy had made quick work with your belt and jeans, unclasping the metal before roughly pulling down the tight denim that hugged you perfectly, followed by the white briefs unveiling the very source of his affliction and desire.

His cock, thick and heavy, laid perfectly between your crack, pulsing at the very thought of being inside once again, after weeks of having blue balls, it was his forbidden truth to feel you all over again, like the first.

“Harrington could never- you really think he could fuck you the way I do? Make you feel things…”

Reaching down, a warm hand cups the base of your dick before slightly tugging, the leather cold against the warmth he was supplying. The moans that had forced themselves from deep within bubbled up into a whimper once surpassing your open lips.

His free hand managed to sneakily wrap itself within your hair, tugging harshly, you were not getting out of this, even if you had the choice.

“I won’t ask you again doll-“

You mumble a sharp, squeaky “no” once the angry tip rests softly against the puckered skin surrounding your entrance and Billy’s gateway into bliss. A few more tugs was all he offered up before removing his hand from your dribbling member, slightly patting at the pert globes you arched into him.

He chuckled cockily, his beer-soaked chest resting against your clothed back before looking up into the glass mirror. It was almost invigorating to see himself like this, to watch you wriggle with anticipation, giving in so easily, allowing Billy himself to guide you through his ecstasy, it was even better, a strangers bathroom had never brought him so much glory.

“Atta boy, come on, won’t you relax for me, let me in sweetheart…”

He slips in with ease, creating a stretch that burned like the sun, growing with each passing inch, watching as his tongue danced against your neck, how your features twisted with pain…then pleasure.

“Look at yourself-“

He settles against you before pressing his hips flush against your own, filling you up, warm and thick in your gut. Tear-stained eyes flick up to settle on his baby blues that twitched with lust, his smirk big and proud, almost intimidating.

“That’s it- that’s my pretty boy, such a sweet thing for me, all for me”

He panted before pulling completely back with an audible pop, watching his cock bob, he ushered himself back in to the hilt with a loud slap, this was something Billy would never forget, clearly.

“Keep your eyes on me princess-“

You did, watching him roll his hips, feeling each inch slip and slide against your velvet walls, his tip edging it’s way back and forth, watching your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

“Bill- Billy, please-“

You gasp before he presses fully forward, pushing against your pleasure spot and watching you gasp, tongue licking at dry lips. Once again you find his eyes, blushing at the wet laps he gives your neck.

“You’ll think twice next time hmm?”…

[zombiigrll]

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DISCARDED. ⋆｡°✩ richie tozier x gn!kaspbrak!reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 2.8K ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ mostly angst then little but of fluff, lots of movie dialogue at first, gross stuff because its a horror movie!! reader is eddies twin, gender neutral and quiet reader, terrible ending yk me, not really a defined relationship its more just an implied shared crush ! .ᐟ SUMMARY .ᐟ ⭑ you’ve always been a quiet person, especially being the least favorite in your family. the losers didn’t realize how bad it was until neibolt. ꩜  .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ omg… maxine posts something that ISNT TWD RELATED?1?1?!1 WHATTTT????? i hope you guys enjoyy i know its very different but i wanted to give myself a little different dialogue i guess?? i wanted to write for something different for once!! except it was a little funky trying to write for a character not in twd... this definitely isnt my best work!! but as alwaysss if you guys really want a part two ill make one!

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you were lucky to have a brother like eddie in a family such as the kaspbraks. 

the two of you were twins, and due to your mothers lack of hospital visits when she was pregnant, she thought she was just having one boy. you were… an unpleasant surprise, to say the least. 

as you grew up, you frequently wondered why your mother didn’t just put you up for adoption. it was a crazy thought, but it was true. it was obvious to everybody that eddie was her favorite, and you understood why. he was nice, clean, and he loved her.

you also were nice and loved her, but you believed it just wasn’t enough.

you started hanging out with your brother and his group of friends he called, ‘the losers club,’ not so long after bill’s brother georgie went missing. which also was not so long after your own… weird experience.

bill had told you the weird things he thought happened to his brother, and you didn’t think about how it correlated to you until the following day when you had a run-in with pennywise. 

you were lucky to have made out of that with just a gash on your knee, which your brother cleaned up for you after you excused it as ‘falling off your bike.’ 

it's been a little while since that incident, and much more crazy stuff has happened. everyone has had their own experience with pennywise at this point, and you all finally got your lead on where pennywise lived.

neibolt. 

nobody really wanted to go inside besides bill, so you guys got straws and whoever got the shortest one would have to go in. 

you, richie, and eddie were the unlucky ones. the only luck on your guy's side was bill being brave enough to willingly go inside.

“i can’t believe i pulled the short straw.” richie sighed, his voice lightly laced with fear. “you guys are lucky you’re not measuring dicks.”

you let out a light laugh, which made richie smile. the two of you had gotten close through your similar sense of humor, although you didn’t make most of the jokes. you were very quiet, and barely talked. you just laughed with him.

you followed richie as he walked over to a weird spider web that seemed to have something entangled in it. you watched his demeanor quickly shift as he unfolded the paper.

“what? what is it richie?” you moved over to his side to look at the paper.

“it- it says i’m missing.” his eyes went wide and his expression blank as he looked at the descriptions on the paper.

bill walked over in front of the two of you. “y-you’re not missing, richie.” 

richies chest began to rise up and down as he spoke again. “then why does it say it there?! that’s my shirt, that's my hair, that's my face!”

“richie calm down, it’s not real!” you put your hand on his shoulder, reaching for the paper.

“that’s my name, that’s my age, that’s the date!”

“calm down, this isn’t real.” bill tried intervening.

“what the fuck?!” richie continued to panic. you reached over and successfully took the paper away from him. “it says i’m missing, am i missing? am i gonna disappear?”

“richie.” you put your hands on his shoulders in an attempt to console him. “look at me. this isn’t real, he’s trying to mess with you. that’s his whole deal. it’s not real. you’re not going to go missing. not on my watch. or bills, or eddies.”

richie's face softened and he appeared to be more calm, just obviously shaken up. but that was quickly thrown away at the voice of a girl.

“hello?” the voice called. “hello..? help me, please!” 

“betty?” you questioned, looking up the stairs,

“ripsom?” richie continued.

you turned around, hearing a creepy, old voice saying your brother's name. you could see that he heard it, too.

“guys, do you hear that?” eddie asked, but richie and bill were too distracted by the girl at the stairs. you nodded at eddie and began following him towards the sound.

the two of you walked into the room, holding onto each other. ever since you two were little, you would hold onto each other whenever you guys were nervous.

you two looked around, when you suddenly heard a creek from behind you 

“guys?” eddie called out, looking and noticing the door shut.

“guys!” you yelled, running up to the door and attempting to open it. you could hear richie and bill on the other side of the door trying to open it, too.

“help!” you yelled, kicking the door.

you and eddie stepped back a bit, trying to find a way to get out. but when you turned around, you two spotted the floor breaking.

“time to take your pill, eddie.” you heard the creepy voice say behind the two of you. 

you both turned around to look, but as eddie made eye contact with the man, he fainted, falling down the hole and dragging you with.

you let out a yell, but you weren’t sure what exactly it was that you were yelling. 

you felt a crack beneath you as you and eddie fell onto a table. you were dizzy and your vision was almost completely blurry. the only thing you could feel was something warm dripping down from your forehead.

you groaned, attempting to move your hand up to your head. when you pulled it back, your hand was covered in your own blood. 

you could feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness.

“y/n?” eddie called, looking over at your bloody figure. “holy shit!”

you looked at his arm, completely snapped in half. “eddie…”

he looked uneasy. he never liked blood, or, well, anything gross. everyone knew that. 

you two looked forward, seeing a familiar glove on the fridge in front of you guys, opening the fridge door from the inside. 

“IT..” you weakly called out. 

he walked out of the fridge, untwisting his body around, staring at you guys. 

it didn’t even feel real. you felt like you were hallucinating from your blood loss. 

“time to float.”

there was a loud ringing in your ears as he approached.

he ran up to eddie, holding onto his face and mocking him. eddie was attempting to hit him, and you threw yourself forward and weakly punched IT in the cheek in an attempt to get him away from your brother. 

he moved his attention to you, grabbing your face in his hand. “tasty, tasty, beautiful fear.”

“you’re… not real.” you whispered, sounding delirious. 

IT’s mouth began opening and getting closer to yours. 

“no, no, no!” eddie yelled, frantically looking around for a way to help you. 

but pennywise came to a halt when he heard the creek of a door. 

“help!” eddie screamed, resulting in pennywise throwing his hand over his mouth.

you could feel your body starting to pass out, but you were fighting it. “..shit.”

richie and bill ran into the room.

“eddie, y/n?!” richie yelled, looking at you and eddie on the ground, one bleeding from the head and the others arm in half.

“this isn’t real enough for you, billy?” pennywise taunted bill, squeezing your face as he talked. “i’m not real enough for you?” 

bill stayed silent, spacing out in fear.

“holy shit.” richie blurted out.

“it was real enough for georgie.” 

as they were frozen in fear, pennywise leaped forward towards the two, but beverly quickly stabbed him in the eye, stopping him.

“richie..” you looked up at him, your blood dripping past your eye. 

“get y/n and eddie - get y/n and eddie.” richie frantically said.

you began slipping in and out of reality again. every time it felt like you just blinked, everybody would be in a different position in the room.

you saw ben get his stomach cut open by IT’s claws, but when you blinked again, everyone was surrounding you and eddie and IT seemed to have gone away. 

“they’re awake!” beverly called, her hand on your shoulder. 

you felt your wound, which was now bandaged in whatever cloth they could find. there was still dried blood on your face. 

you couldn’t find words to describe how you were feeling. you were in pain, and scared. you were speechless.

richie turned over and hugged you tightly. “oh, thank god.” his voice was shaken.

he turned back over to eddie, looking at his broken arm. “okay.. i’ll put the arm back in place.”

eddie begins shaking his head frantically. “do not fucking touch me!” 

richie begins counting down, setting his hands up on his arm.

“do not fucking touch me!” eddie repeats, but right as he says it, richie snaps the arm back in place. 

“holy shit..” you whispered, looking away quickly.

…

you guys pedaled back to bills house, you rode on the back of richies bike. shortly after, your mom met up in front. she was furious.

she grabbed eddie and put him in the front seat, slamming the door shut. “you, you did this.” she angrily said, pointing at everyone, including you. “you know how delicate he is.”

“what about me, mom?” you angrily muttered under your breath.

“what was that?” she stepped closer to you, looking down at you.

“what about me?” you repeated angrily. “mom, my head is split open, i- i barely know what is happening right now, and all you care about is eddie!”

“do not speak to me like that.” she firmly stands, putting her finger on your chest. “you think your brother deserved to get hurt?” 

“no! obviously not!” your voice began getting higher and higher. “it’s the way you’re acting like nothing happened to me, or anyone else here. we were attacked, it wasn’t anyone's fault. ben's stomach is cut open, too! it wasn’t just eddie!”

she shakes her head and grabs your arm, attempting to pull you into the car. you pull your arm away. “what are you doing?” 

“i’m not going home with you. obviously eddie needs all the attention he can get.” you crossed your arms and stepped back. “i’ll be home tomorrow.”

she scoffs and shrugs, stepping away into the car and driving off. 

that was the most you think you’ve ever spoken in your life.

you began taking deeper breaths, putting your hands over your face. you felt a hand placed on your shoulder, and when you looked up, it was richie.

he didn’t say anything, he just simply pulled you into a hug.

“i saw the well.” bill speaks up after a moment of silence. you break from your hug with richie to look at him. “w-w-we know where it is, and next time we’ll be more prepared.”

“no!” stanley yells. “no next time, bill! you’re insane!” 

“why? we all know nobody else is going to do anything.” beverly defends bill, making you scoff.

“are you serious?” you mumbled, rolling your eyes.

“eddie and y/n were nearly killed!” richie reminds the two angrily. he looks over at ben and points to him. “and look at this motherfucker! he’s leaking hamburger helper!” 

you looked up at richie with a solemn smile.

“we can’t pretend it’s gonna go away.” beverly continues, looking sort of frantic. “ben, you said it yourself, it comes back every 27 years.”

ben shakes his head, sort of distraught. “fine! i’ll be forty and far away from here. i thought you said you wanted to get out of this town too.”

“because i want to run towards something, not away.”

“i’m sorry, who invited molly ringwald into the group?” richie says, getting flipped off by beverly in the process.

“richie..” you attempt to calm him down, but he’s obviously shaken up.

“i’m just saying, let’s face facts.” he continues. “real world, georgie is dead. stop trying to get us killed, too.”

richie takes your hand and tries to pass by bill, but bill quickly stops him. “georgie’s not dead.”

richie takes a deep breath before continuing. “you couldn’t save him, but you can still save yourself.” 

he attempts to walk by with you again, but bill stands in the way. “no, t-t-take it back! you’re scared, we all are, but take it back!” 

bill shoves richie on his last ‘take it back,’ making you stumble over yourself a bit. richie shoves bill back, resulting in bill punching richie in the face, almost knocking his glasses off.

“bill, what the fuck?!” you yelled, running over to pick richie up with stanley and mike.

“you’re just a bunch of losers!” richie yells as you guys hold him back from bill. “fuck off!”

“richie, stop!” stanley says, trying to keep him back.

“you’re just a bunch of losers, and you’ll get yourselves killed trying to catch a fucking stupid clown!” richie yells before beverly pushes herself in between bill and him.

richie pushed you, mike, and stanley off of him. 

“stop!” she looks back at richie then bill as she speaks. “this is what IT wants. IT wants to divide us! we were all together when we hurt IT, that’s why we're still alive!” 

“yeah?” richie speaks up again, grabbing your arm. “well, i plan to keep it that way.” he shoulder-checks bill as he makes it back to his bike. 

you look over at bill, as if there was something to say in a situation like this. but really, there wasn't. you just exchanged disappointed looks at one another before you sat on the back of richies bike and rode away.

…

you were now at richies house. he brought over a couple gauze pads and bandages, a damp cloth, and some antibiotic ointments he found.

“how are you feeling?” he asked, sitting down next to you on his bed. 

you silently shrugged. so much had just happened, you couldn’t even think about how you actually felt. 

he nodded understandingly, setting his numerous medical supplies next to him. “can i help you clean your cut?” 

you nodded, turning your body over to face him. richie seemed to be pretty nervous, you noticed from his hands shaking as he reached over to take your original ‘bandage’ off. after he took it off, he grimaced and pressed his lips together. “holy shit. are you sure you’re okay?”

you reached your hand up to your head and felt the gash. you couldn’t tell exactly, but it felt to be pretty large. “um.. yes?” a laugh ended up escaping you, a nervous one, but a laugh nonetheless. “i mean, it hurts really bad, but not as bad as it did earlier.”

richie smiles anxiously as he reaches over to grab the damp washcloth. “alright, if you say so. let me know if this hurts.”

he puts his hand up to your cheek and begins taking care of your wound, softly cleaning off the blood around the gash. despite the intense sting, you tightly close your eyes and bite your cheek. 

after a while, he finishes cleaning and bandaging your wound, but his hand still awkwardly lays on the side of your face. richie looks at your freshly bandaged head, then your eyes. but the second you made eye contact, he cleared his throat and turned his body away. 

you and richie always had an awkward tension ever since you met him. even eddie had pointed it out a couple times to you. 

you laid down next to him, resting your head right next to his legs and looking up at him. he looked down at you awkwardly for a moment before laughing. “whats up?”

“you’ve got something on your glasses.” you said, fully serious. 

he raised his eyebrow, a look of genuine confusion laying on his face. “what? where?”

“right…” you smiled before reaching up and knocking his glasses off of his face, “..there.”

richies eyes shut as his glasses fall to his lap, but he laughs at your action anyways. “hah.. okay. rude.” 

as he reaches to put his glasses back on, you notice a bruise forming on his cheek. the same cheek that bill had punched earlier. “hey, wait.” you grab his glasses as you sit back up, getting a better look at the bruise. “you should really put some ice on that..”

“huh? what’re you talking about?” 

“your cheek, richie. its bruising.” you gesture to his face.

he moves his hand up to the cheek, wincing a bit at the pressure. “oh, right.” his tone and body language changed to appear more angry as he thought back at what had happened just a few hours ago. “so fucking stupid.” he muttered under his breath.

“come on.” you grab one of his hands, putting his glasses back on with the other. “let’s just go get something to help.” you step off of the bed.

he looks down at your hands together nervously before following you off of the bed with a nod. “..alright.” 

“..do you wanna go to the arcade afterwards?” you said with a smile in an attempt to brighten his mood. 

he looks up at you with a smile. he looks at a loss for words and simply nods in response. 

so, the two of you grab an icepack- well, a frozen bag of peas - and begin heading over to the arcade together. 

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

[syluses]

there was another wave of caleb drama on the bird app the other day about him not wanting to be ur gege at all which was lowkey super dumb bc its not true but now its making me think of an au where mc and caleb don't grow up together and meet as adults but caleb's still delusional and crazy enough to want to have that type of dynamic... like just irrationally mad that he isn't the one who raised u LMAO i always saw him as the type to just want to be your everything not Just a brother not Just a lover... it tickles my brain.. love and obsession so all-encompassing that he has to be everything in ur life

..Oh brother 😒 no pun intended. I agree with u tho nonnie 💯 Bro needs to be her everything, & if he isnt he feels worthless.

Prepare thyselfs

Alright, yall already know by know that im a big gege truther- however im perfectly fine with the people who wanna see caleb as the ‘childhood friend’- which the anglicized version essentially goes off on. Now i do believe those individuals dont see all of caleb’s unique little nuances- just because so much of them stem from the brotherly role he was ‘forced’ to fill for mc all throughout childhood- and i think they fail to recognize the paramount correlation it has to their ‘forbidden’ romance (which both he & mc ACKNOWLEDGE in the story; but ig they’re just whiting out the bits they dont wanna hear) but im not gonna flame ppl if they wanna see bro as the friends to lovers trope.

i dont agree with it, but its more or less okay with me bc i understand lots of ppl are icked out by the pseudo trope (reasonable) yet still want to appreciate xia yizhou in their own way— even if ignoring the original intention inevitably brings a certain distance to that for the lack of comprehension over his, well, ahem GEGEISM™️

The way some of them wanna DENY the asian/original canon tho is pretty insane ngl. Like homie u can still enjoy ur own (english localized) idea of caleb- but to try to erase the obvious gege/meimei implications of the chinese version is funny only because its just that stupid. Again im definitely not one of the ppl who’ll yell and shame others for not fucking with the gege vibes, but cmon… its pretty obvious that is in the canon.

And now im yapping at this point but as to whether or not caleb WANTS to be mc’s brother figure? ..Honestly i feel like that is complicated in itself, and i think the answer will vary from person to person. But for me i think its both a yes and a no. He definitely acts as her brother, thinks as her brother, regards himself as her brother. And the self awareness is absolutely there for him- as in he knows its wrong to romantically pine for mc because he truly does- in his own way- naturally see mc as his meimei as well, even if he tries to separate himself from it the more his yearning grows. I think calebs emotions revolving this are super complex. I can barely even put it into words.

He wants the full right, if u will, that the gege title grants him over her— the closeness, the responsibility, the bond— but it ultimately gets in the way when he stares at her in admiration for a little too long or leans a little too much into the fantasy of pretend girlfriend and boyfriend. Growing up, whenever he humored her and they played house, he never had to feign the part of ‘husband’ bc he already carried all that love with him. In a way, a lil piece of him kind of blames mc for ‘asserting’ the gege role on him, but he’s still just as guilty bc he happily gave in to it all throughout their growing up. He liked it, even, in those moments he could almost forget his own pathetic desires.

I truly do believe that caleb feels regretful over the brotherly role he operated under for just about all his life… But i also truly believe that he would have it no other way— the smallest idea of anybody else assuming that spot in her life makes him furious. Because again, he wants to take care of her, he wants to protect her, to bandage her scraped knees and hush away her tears, to cook breakfast lunch and dinner for her and have almost as much of a say in her life as gran does. (…past tense.) He wants the proximity, the domestic life with her, the casual closeness and again, the slight dominion the ‘brother’ role gives him over her.

Lets not forget that in all of this, for all his cheerful, reassuring smiles and easy quipping comments, that there’s a little worm in the back of caleb’s head that wants ultimate control over his meimei. and yes, even just in calling her his ‘meimei’— or her running face first into his strong arms bc she knows, as family, he’ll always have her back— some of that control is given. Its so hard to articulate this pls kill me. But i hope u know what i mean.

At the end of the day, for all his reservations about it- and the actual blame he lowkey tries to put on mc for it- Caleb does and always wanted to be her gege.

Because if he was never her gege, he’d be nothing. His responsibility over his meimei— his sister, his friend, his closest confidant and hopefully, one day, his wife— is frankly all that gives him purpose.

And yeah maybe he is a little crazy because of it... But he knows she loves him too, deep down. He knows her better than anybody else, after all. The same can be said about his love for her: nobody in this world could ever hold even a fraction of all that Caleb both internally & physically shoulders for her.

It’s as much of an ugly curse as it is a beautiful gift.

Duality my friends, duality

[nthspecialll]

Bill Williamson's racism

(If I have worded anything in a wrong way, if I have accidently said something wrong, you disagree or anything similar, please do let me know and educate me, but I ask that you don't do it in a condecending tone and that you refrain from calling me a fool or similar. I do nothing will ill intent and I want to learn but I cannot if you merely insult me.)

I do want to start of by saying that Bill's racism is not excusable, and that he is not doing it for attention or similarly, that he does in fact have racist tendencies, however what I wish to talk about in this post is the differences between his racism and Micah's which shows more neuance and has peaked some, including my own, interest.

The most obvious difference to me between Micah and Bill's racism is how they act around the people of color. Bill praises both of Lenny and Javier. Bill calls Lenny "son" and yells to everyone about how amazing he is and the proud almost fatherly instrict is oozing. With Javier there is a similar interaction where he is drunk and he is yapping Sean's ear off about how amazing Javier is.

We do not see that with Micah (That I can find), the only possitive thing Micah says to either of them is "you aren't so bad, for a (slur)". Another thing to point out is that Micah is constantly belittling both Lenny and Javier, saying things like "you can write and everything, unusual for one of you. Oh you know, hoodlums," Bill does not belittle them, he calls them names but he doesn't belittle them. Is that okay? No, of course not and it is very serious, but it is just something I noticed.

Now when it comes to their actual racist acts, even there we see a difference. When Bill literally throws Lenny, Lenny just chuckles and says "get lost Bill," meanwhile when Micah just talks to Lenny, Lenny is on alert, he is cautious, watchful. He takes Micah seriously, while he does not take Bill seriously.

A native American I talked to about Bill (mentioning their heritage here because Bill often talks down to native Americans), mentioned that they felt Bill was repeating words like a parrot rather than actually understanding and believing them, which I can see.

Bill fought in the army, very specifically against Native Americans. he has a camp interaction where he is talking about the war and he is fucking terrified, he jumps at the sound of a horse neighing after explaining how he saw people die.

He saw people get murdered, he saw his friends get slaughtered and he was told by the army to turn that anger towards the natives. The army implimented racist ideologies to excuse the genocide they were making and to rile their armies. This also correlates to the scene between Bill and Dutch where Bill says "I saw things!" and Dutch replies "I am sure you do! But I don't think you could understand it" and I think that is spot on. Bill saw his friends dying, he saw his comrades dying, people he was likely as close to dying.

All he saw were these people murdering his friends, not that those people were fighting for their right to exist, and for every body hitting the ground the army framed it all on the natives, that it was all their fault, without mentioning anything that the army was doing to the natives.

Does any of this excuse Bill? No, but while I believe that Bill is racist, I think he is racist because he was told to be rather than because he truely believes it like Micah does. Micah seems to fully believe these ideas, that white people are better and that they will never be on the same level as him, none of the POC characters in camp were his friends, meanwhile Bill saw those POC characters as his comerades, as his friends and he kept in touch with Javier for a good while after he lost all the others.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season - Part 7

Final Chapter and Epilogue

Everybody’s Got Somebody but Me

Azriel Eris x Reader

Azriel pleads his case to his mate before the Inner Circle, an unexpected interruption sheds additional light on the situation, Y/N makes a decision.

Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: Language

The room thrummed with erratic energy as everyone awaited the arrival of the Shadowsinger. Eris watched intently as Y/N kept a collected facade before the present group, but behind her eyes a tumultuous storm raged. She hadn’t seen her mate since she’d left - since he’d betrayed her - and maybe she was a coward for facing him before an audience of his loved ones but she was done tip-toeing the line, done praying that the words falling from her mate’s lips were truth when he’d done nothing but spin ugly lies from that beautiful mouth. She wanted the real story, the whole story, and Truth Teller itself couldn’t extract it better than the audience before them.

Her gut-wrenched with his nearing presence, the doors would open any moment as guards would bring him in, before her, before his family, before Eris and her sister.

The only missing parties in the space were Amren who had stayed behind in Velaris to keep a presence in place and Nesta who had other matters to attend to. Mor’s attendance was welcome but not required, given the obvious histories between she and Eris - her mate.

Eris kept an amused facade beneath his own surface, though he was anything but. Y/N looked resplendent seated at the lone chair at the head of his table. Seated to her right, he kept a respectful distance, fighting the overwhelming urge to reach out and warm her shaking hand under the table.

And Eris couldn’t be certain by the flat expression on his face, but he could have sworn the slightest gleam of amusement glimmered in Lucien’s eye as the mechanical one focused in on a clearly unimpressed Camila who was unabashedly taking stock of the middle Archeron sister at his side.

The door unlatched, all traces of civility falling from Rhys’ face as Azriel stepped into the now darkened room.

Azriel looked terrible, the purple bruises and dark circles under his eyes draining the remaining life from his sallowed skin, eyes red and puffy.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, burying down the instinct doing its damndest to get her to run to her dejected mate.

Azriel looked straight past every single person at the table, not even sparing a glance to the seething High Lord staring daggers in his direction. His hazel eyes blew wide as they honed in on his mate. His perfect fucking mate. He truly had drained so much from her, hadn’t he? Never once stopping to notice the signs.

Now, before him was a divine female - full in all the places he’d once gripped so fervently, her complexion radiant, hair lustrous, lips so delectable he wanted to bite them. There was no broken female here, this was a female who has been living a life of love and joy. The only thing missing was her bright smile, now absent in his presence.

Another thing he’d taken from her.

“Y/N”, Azriel mouthed, no sound coming out as the guards kept the cuffed hands he tried to outstretch in her direction restrained.

Her pointed silence and the clunk of the guards boots filled the room as Azriel was lead toward his space between Cassian and Rhys at the table. Y/N now noting the correlation between the bruises on Azriel’s face and a few scattered on Cassian’s.

Rhys’ voice entered her mind. “Azriel started a fight with Cassian that led to us finding out about he and Elain. When Cassian realized, he went feral on him. It’s been centuries since I’ve seen those two fight like that. By the time Cassian was done with him, I couldn’t in good conscience lay a hand on him.”

“They shouldn’t have fought over this. But I bet you not laying a hand on him though he knew you wanted to hurt his ego more than any punches would have.”

Feyre joined in the mental conversation, adding “He’s just lucky Nesta wasn’t there when they found out.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, assuming that Nesta would have remained neutral in the ordeal. Not out of cruelty, but given her love and protective tendencies toward Elain as well as her friendship with Azriel and their Valkyrie training.

Azriel looked to his mate, once again wordlessly mouthing. “Y/N, please.” Finally taking in the crowd before him, he paled further.

“Cat got your tongue, Shadowsinger?” Eris mused. Fury lined Azriel’s features at the smug tone. Rhys only let out a bitter chuckle though he found nothing funny about the predicament they’d found themselves in, his violet gaze narrowed in on his brother. “You found a work around with our bargain by finding your mate outside of the Summer Court, but couldn’t find a work around on the matter of being barred from communicating with her? Just how did you expect this whole plan to work out?” He didn’t wait for a response to the question as he waved to the bargain tattoo. “I rescind the bargain tattoo, you may speak to her for as long as she’ll allow it.”

Azriel paid no mind to Rhys, his chest heaved as he frantically spouted out, “Can we speak in private, my love? Just you and me.”

Eris bristled internally at the pet name but Y/N didn’t falter as she replied “You lost the right to call me that the moment you took another female to bed.”

Elain fidgeted in her seat, eyes downcast. Camila bouncing her murderous gaze back and forth between she and Azriel.

To his credit, Azriel took the blow. This was a bed of his own making and he knew it, they all knew it. There was no sense in trying to deny it.

His mate’s head remained held high as she continued, “By the grace of the High Lord of the Autumn Court, the consequences of your attempted infiltration of this keep have been resigned to your own High Lord.“

Shame flooded Azriel’s face but he let her continue.

“As for me? All I ever wanted was your love and commitment. I gave so many chances and when it finally seemed like you might get it - you’d squandered that opportunity as well. I am before you right now because I want to know why. And because you have not given me a reason to trust you, I have brought this council of individuals who have somehow found themselves so intertwined with our relationship when it should have only been you and me.”

Azriel spat the bitter words before he could stop them from leaving his mouth. “If Eris is not issuing consequence, there is no need for him to be here.”

Despite his exceptional ability to bait, Eris remained silent. A show of respect to the female at the head of his table.

“I was a guest in his keep when you decided to make our separation everybody’s problem and breached the wards.”

Azriel, damn him, couldn’t stop the next hateful words either. “I hardly call emissary business the equivalent of being a guest.”

Eris forwent anger over the blatant disrespect already rolling off of Azriel’s tongue when she didn’t owe him a second of her time, he knew this force of a female by his side well enough by now - biting the inside of his lip to hold back the involuntary smirk creeping its way up to the corners of his mouth as he sensed the words before she spoke them.

“You’re right, Azriel. But I am not here on emissary business, I am here as a personal guest of Eris, who has found himself intertwined in this relationship.” She then looked to her sister “Along with Camila, as they BOTH found themselves putting in considerable time and effort helping piece back together the parts of me that I couldn’t quite place myself. Do you have further question on the members in attendance today that you’d like for me to elaborate on?”

Camila, seated to the other side of Y/N, gave her sister a reassuring squeeze of the hand under the table. Silence once again filling the room, Azriel’s shadows in conjunction with Rhys’ raging darkness rendered him barely visible.

Perhaps her words to her mate were harsh but they were far kinder than the venomous “I’m here on the business of fucking the brains out of the Autumn Court High Lord who, by the way, is just as well endowed and far more bendy than you.” that she wanted to spit back at him.

As if Eris read her thoughts, he loosened the reign on that wicked smirk he’d held back.

“Now that the matter of why we’re all here is settled,” Y/N continued, “I will hear you out, Azriel. If at any point I do not wish to continue this discussion, you will leave immediately. Do you understand?”

Her stoic mate, the revered Spymaster, simpered at the words, giving a slight nod. “Yes.” Eris thought to himself in that moment, heart filled with pride, “She would make a fine High Lady.”

“Great. We have a bargain.” Her fist clenching as the tattoo formed on the back of her neck. “Please proceed.”

Azriel stood, looking to his mate. Crestfallen he began. He held himself in submission to his mate but with enough confidence for her to see that he was sincere in whatever he was about to say.

“Y/N. I love you. I have loved you since before the bond ever snapped. You are - You’re everything. Fuck, I know that what I did was terrible but, it’s not what it seems. You were so good, too good, I didn’t deserve you. I never have. You are everything good and I do nothing but bring pain and hurt to others, and now I’ve done the same to you. Words can never express how sorry I am but… I can at least share what happened.”

He looked to her, praying she’d speak, give any encouragement. Her bright eyes only stared through him, straight into the tattered soul he’d tried so hard to conceal from her.

The table remained silent. Camila biting back a scoff and Elain fidgeting with her dress.

Realizing she wouldn’t speak until he’d told her everything he continued.

He began speaking of how insignificant he’d felt in comparison to her. How he’d buried himself in work, in training with the Valkyries, helping Elain recover. He then pleaded to her, giving recollection of how he’d stopped feeling her through the bond. Giving account for everything leading up to the night he’d slept with Elain.

He recounted how he’d just wanted to get through the night, how he’d chosen to go to dinner instead of staying in, drowning himself in alcohol in an effort to get through the night, how he’d planned to tell Elain that he could no longer spend so much time with her.

It was then that he turned a violent glare to Cassian. “Tell her. Tell her, Cassian.”

Cassian let out a sigh. “Y/N, I am so sorry for the mistake I made. Nes and I, we’d stopped into a new apothecary along the Sidra and found a unique new aphrodisiac. We’d done a parting shot with Azriel and Elain after everyone else had gone out and I -“ his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, “I accidentally gave the shots we’d mixed the powder into to Elain and Azriel instead of Nes and I. I had no clue until yesterday, we just assumed it was a faulty batch.”

Azriel’s shadows swirled with rage as he picked up where he’d left off. “I went to find Elain afterward, to break things off but the aphrodisiac hit so hard, so fast, and I was so terribly intoxicated. One moment I was trying to speak, the next she was kissing me.” He shook, choking on the next words. “The next morning, I knew I could either tell you, inflicting more pain upon you, or I could carry the pain myself and make sure it never happened again.”

Lucien gritted his teeth at the admission. He’d known they slept together, she’d come straight to him afterward. Choosing to make his best effort to do right by his mate, telling himself that what had happened evened out the playing field between them. Of course it hurt, and hell, he was livid. He found himself fond of the Shadowsinger’s mate, forming a comfortable acquaintanceship with her the few times they’d attended the same events with the Inner Circle. She deserved so much more than a mate that cheated on her.

But Elain was his mate, he needed to at least try with her now that she’d finally shown up. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat and had spent the past six months spending what time she deigned to give him with her. He’d hoped at the very least it would keep Azriel away from Elain and with his own mate. He’d felt awful when he heard she’d left.

He was drawn from his thoughts by Azriel’s next words and the corresponding pained gasp from Elain, and the thrumming power of Feyre as she seethed from both embarrassment of the ordeal and the careless words about her sister. “Y/N, Elain means nothing to me. She was a mistake. I don’t care about her beyond the fact that she’s my High Lady’s sister, I don’t love her - I only love you. I only want you. She is nothing.”

Elain clutched her chest, eyes welling with tears as she let out a whisper that may as well have been a damning scream. “But - you’re my mate.”

Time stood still as everyone turned to her in shock. Everyone, except for Rhys whose raging power dimmed momentarily, heads turned from Elain toward him as he let out an incredulous laugh. “You idiot.” Feyre turned toward him. He’d pay for that comment later, though only mildly as she was inclined to think the same of her sister. “That aphrodisiac that you were given, it is designed to imitate the mating frenzy. He’s not your mate, you were just horny.”

Elain turned ghostly, sinking in her chair at the revelation. Y/N felt sympathy for Lucien as she noted his gritted teeth. Apparently whatever she’d told Lucien, she’d left out the important detail that she thought she had another mate.

Camila’s body shook, fighting back laughter, and failing. Her laughter filled the space. “Oh my gods!” She wiped a tear from her eye. “I don’t mean to… but this, this is too good.” Her laughter only increased. “How humiliating!”

Even Y/N bit back a smile. Camila never was good at hiding her emotions, laughing in the most unstable of circumstances. And she couldn’t stop. Finally she placed her palms on the table pushing herself up. “I’m so sorry. I’ll excuse myself.” Lucien was next to stand, Elain tightly grasping his wrist. “Lucien” she whispered.

It was Lucien’s turn to let out a small laugh. “I suddenly find that I am not at all intertwined with this mess. Enjoy your mate!” He mused, a saccharine smile forming on his face as he pulled his arm away, catching up to Camila. His footsteps and the distant sound of “My lady” as he extended an arm to her, which she gladly accepted.

Elain stood eyes darting between Azriel and the door. Taking far too long to come to the decision to chase after her actual mate. Her foot moved out, pivoting her toward the doors when Rhysand commanded, “Oh no, you will stay here and finish this discussion.” She gasped looking to Feyre who only gave a solemn nod of solidarity with her mate.

Elain fell back into her seat, crossing her arms across her chest, glaring daggers at Azriel.

As the room once again settled, aside from the roaring heartbeats at the table, Y/N spoke impassively, “If there’s anything else you wish to say, now would be the time, Azriel.”

He stared wide eyed, clearly still blown away by the bullshit with Elain.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I know that what I did was wrong. I never meant for any of this to happen. I never would have slept with her had it not been for the aphrodisiac. I never meant to hurt you. I have so much darkness within me to reckon with, so much that I’m terrified to bring up, so much I never wanted you to see. I need you to understand that. You were never the problem. It was me. It was always me. I can tell you how sorry I am, I can tell you how much I love you, but it won’t matter unless I can show you. Please give me that opportunity. I won’t let you down.”

Y/N sat still. Processing all of the details Azriel had given her. She felt his desperation barreling through the bond. Her hands again began shaking under the table without her sister there to steady them. Discreetly, Eris reached his hand to Y/N, the quivering receding at his warm touch.

Azriel’s shadows rose to whisper in his ear, his eyes instantly honing in on where their hands were joined, as if he could see right through the table.

And Y/N didn’t know if it was by a stroke of luck or the absolute lack of it but at that moment, the doors flung open and Nesta. Fucking. Archeron. stormed in.

“You.” She pointed to Azriel. One word. One action. So much damnation behind it.

Rhys’ darkness flared in the presence of his wild card sister-in-law. Cassian merely raised an eyebrow, the slightest upward curve tilting his lips as he took in his mate who could command a room full of power.

She looked over both High Lord’s at the table with an unimpressed sneer before turning that deadly, piercing gaze toward Azriel.

Azriel’s eyes widened in surprise at the Valkyrie striding toward him. “What. The. Fuck. Is. This?”

His brows knit and she opened her fist, grasping a chain with two of her fingers to display a dangling necklace.

Azriel’s face paled.

“You know, the strangest thing happened this afternoon. I was talking to my friend, Gwyn. We got to talking about flowers and Elain’s garden. Gwyn began speaking of how she loves roses, clutching at a lovely little pendant around her neck.”

“And I thought to myself, something about this necklace seems so familiar.”

“And then I recalled a solstice not too long ago where my sister came crying to me over a male who had given her a lovely necklace of the same description. How they’d pined for each other, never going further than a brush of the hands. Until the night they almost kissed, the scent of his arousal heavy in the air between them, then pulling back from her and stating ‘this is a mistake’ and leaving.

At the point Rhysand turned to his brother. “You’re fucking joking, Azriel.”

Y/N looked to them beginning to anticipate where this was going.

“When asked who gifted it to her, she stated that Clotho told her it was left for her from an anonymous admirer. So, I went to my friend Clotho, who keeps to her word very well. She’d sworn to the source she wouldn’t tell. But you know, the House of Wind is a sentient entity. Persistently tugging me toward Rhys’ belongings that remain scattered around the house.”

Nesta turned her glare from Azriel to Rhysand. “So, Rhysand, something tells me you know about this.”

Rhys lowered his head with shame hesitating as he searched for the right words.

“Y/N…. I’m so sorry. A couple of years ago, on Solstice, I caught Azriel placing a necklace on Elain.” He looked to Elain and then back at Azriel again. “I monitored the situation, hoping I was wrong, but as their lips were moments away from touching, I used my daemati abilities and summoned Azriel to my study. I truly thought whatever happened was over between them as the tension between the two seemingly faded in my presence. Until yesterday, when we found out about he and Elain sleeping together.”

Cassian glared to his brother with rage, “You gave a necklace meant for Elain to Gwyn?”

“She wasn’t supposed to know.”

Before he could dig the hole further, Elain whispered, those doe eyes peering at Azriel through her lashes, “So, you didn’t really think it was a mistake?”

Feyre broke her silence letting out an audible groan of exasperation. And Azriel broke his own silence,

“It WAS a mistake, Elain. All of it. Rhys tried to stop it. I should have listened. You were a mistake.”

Elain gasped, tears lining her eyes. And if looks could have killed, the glare Nesta gave Azriel would have ended him on the spot. But it was Elain who made the mistake of reading her sister’s rage toward Azriel as sympathy toward herself, leaning into her sister, turning her head into her side to catch her dramatized tears.

“No, Elain. I am so disappointed in you. You were completely wrecked when Graysen left you and you were only engaged. Imagine the pain Y/N felt losing her MATE.”

Eris who had been taking in the cluster fuck surrounding them mused, looking toward the door Lucien had earlier exited, “Oh, I don’t think she’ll have to imagine much.” Earning a laugh disguised as a cough from Cassian, another sigh from Feyre, and a scowl from Nesta as she chose to ignore the barb - looking again to Azriel, “You have a lot of amends to make.”

She looked to Elain, “You do too.”

With that she grabbed Elain by the arm and drug her out of the room. With a wave over her arm and a shout of, “You deserve so much better than what you’ve been through, Y/N!”

Y/N took a breath as the room regained its composure, the tension again thickening. “Is there anything else, or are you done making excuses, Azriel?”

“They’re not excuses. Y/N. I love you. I was wrong. It’s always been you.”

“I’m tired.” She spoke softly. And it was the truth.

“I spent so much time waiting for you. Praying that one day it would all become ‘right’ again. I dreamed that you’d come walking through the door, and remind me what it was like to feel your love. My Azriel, my mate, all I wanted was you.

But, this, Azriel. You are not the male I fell in love with. And I think… I think the most heartbreaking part of that is that what I loved most was those dark depths of your soul that you tried so hard to hide. You were never a monster, you were always worth loving. You wouldn’t have broken me. Shutting me out is what broke me. And I told you that, so many times, in so many ways. But you never listened.

And the reason you couldn’t feel me through the bond? The further you pulled away, the more I closed it off from my end. I hoped that it would give you time to work through whatever it was you were facing and refused to share despite my pleas. Until I eventually grew so numb that I just shut it down completely. A courtesy you never once extended to me during my time away. Do you know how hard it was to recover after I left? I felt your guilt and rage barreling through me at all hours.

And you fucking Elain? Nobody but you and Elain are responsible for your actions. Cassian is not your excuse. You chose to go that night, you chose to drink all evening, you chose to wait until that night to tell her you wouldn’t be spending time with her like you had been. You had the entire week away and chose to wait until the last minute.

The affair started long before then. I think we can agree that despite your cold treatment of her before me today, that you two were engaged in an emotional affair long before you ever went to bed with her.”

She reached into her pocket pulling out a piece of parchment.

“And then, you attempted to court Gwyn in my absence - which, fair, because I’m the one who left. She really is a lovely female. Although, I hear it didn’t quite work in your favor.”

Azriel’s eyes grew wide in panic. “The necklace didn’t-“

She laughed. “I’ll save you time and effort of your excuses, Azriel. Gwyn may not have known the necklace was from you but she did extend the courtesy of writing to me and I was rather surprised by the details of the demise of our relationship that didn’t quite line up - specifically the cheating aspect.”

She placed her hands on the table, looking her mate directly in the eyes. “I made my decision long before your attempt to break into this Keep, before the truths were unveiled today. I appreciate everyone for coming but I have heard enough. I ask that you leave now, Azriel.”

Tears filled his eyes. “Wait! Please, Y/N.” His brothers began to pull him away but Azriel fell to his knees.

“Please, baby.” He begged. “Just come home.”

She stared at the pleading male before her. A pang of sympathy for her broken mate ran through her. She wasn’t cruel and sympathy was not a weakness. This was her choice to make and nobody would blame her if she went back to her mate.

“Come home, please.”

Holding her head high, she stepped around her chair.

Eris sat expressionless, carefully avoiding any inclination of the devastation he’d feel if she chose to leave. He would support her either way.

Azriel remained focused on her every movement, his erratic breathing the only sound cutting through the tension of the room.

She took a step, and one more, before halting. Gently taking the hand of the red-headed male beside her whose eyes lined with silver as he looked up to her.

“I am home.”

EPILOGUE

The time he showed up:

Lucien suffered when his bond with Elain was severed. She did not agree to breaking the bond which left slim to no opportunity to move forward with the breaking of it. After months of intense research, Helion was able to find a tricky workaround that did not require both parties to be present. It was incredibly painful due to the negative effects being concentrated to one individual instead of split between two but fortunately not lethal.

Eris never pushed me to sever my bond with Azriel but as time went on it felt important to put that part of my life behind me. I’d extended the courtesy of writing to Azriel regarding my intention to sever it, informing him that I would be going through with the incantation that Helion had conjured. He did not reply but I knew he received the letter based on the muted feelings of grief that seeped through crevices of the walls I had placed against his end of the bond for several days afterward.

Eris traveled to the Day Court with me, having decided nobody could aid in my recovery better than he. To my shock, upon arriving, Azriel was there. Demurely, he stated that it was only right for him to share the weight of this burden. I was inclined to agree but only thanked him for showing up. He bristled at the sight of Eris but the males said nothing to eachother and we went our separate ways until Helion was ready for us. With Azriel’s presence and the pain being shared, the physical recovery on both of our ends was expedited and manageable for both of us.

We were both held in separate suites to recover until Helion gave the all-clear to leave. When the pain became less debilitating, I decided to take a stroll through an exterior walkway, soaking in the sun while Eris bathed. Apparently Azriel had the same idea as I turned a corner to find him sunning his wings, head hung low.

Right as I made to pivot, his head whipped in my direction, eyes locking with mine. Even without the bond I could easily read the pain in his eyes, the grief that surrounded him. His shadows fought to come to me but he kept a tight reign on them. His breathing was rapid, his eyes fighting to turn away but his gaze lingered.

He opened his mouth to speak, a weak sound escaping his lips before he clamped his mouth shut, jaw tensing.

I kept my gaze soft, maintaining eye contact for another moment but he didn’t try to speak again. With that, I walked away and we did not encounter eachother again during the stay.

It was later I realized that he likely wanted to say something, anything, but there was nothing left to speak between us.

The sister-in-law:

After recovering fully from the severance of his bond, Lucien cryptically invited Eris and I to a lakeside home in the Day Court.

“Dress for merriment.” His only details.

Upon arriving, we found a couple of beloved faces from my life, along with Feyre, Helion, The former lady of Autumn (now the lady of Day), Jurian, Vassa, and even Tamlin at the home. We were all escorted to the grounds where an absolutely beaming Lucien stood at an altar beside the most radiant female I’d ever seen.

That was the day my sister became also my sister-in-law. It’s a very strange thing to say aloud but makes sense if you think about it.

The first heir:

Eris cried the day our son was born. Not from the relief of having an heir, not from any upset due to the child being male, certainly not from any disappointment of being a father.

The birth was as smooth as one can be, he held my hand throughout, praising me, and whispering words of love. He didn’t even mind the curses I threw his way as I pushed. He only let go of my hand once the babe was carefully handed to me by the midwife, allowing me those first precious moments to cradle our little flame to my chest and relish in the life our love had created.

Eris cried when that tiny babe was finally passed into his arms and the little red-haired beauty grasped his finger. That touch immediately tethering a connection straight from the child in his arms delicate soul to Eris’ heart, the heart that once beat beneath layers of armor now laid bare before his son.

Never would this child know pain at his fathers hand. Never would he limit the love he could show for fear of being seen as weak. And never, ever would he question his fathers love for him.

The coronation

Azriel

Sitting here lonely at a table for two, watching lovers being lovers

Azriel sat shrouded in shadow in a quiet corner of the decorated throne room. Happy chatter rang throughout the room as attendees anxiously awaited the crowning of the High Lady of the Autumn Court.

Feyre and Rhys; Cassian and Nesta; Helion and the former Lady of Autumn; Emerie and Mor; Tamlin and his new wife, Briar; Lucien and Camila; and even Gwyn and Tarquin sat cozied up in pairs throughout the crowded throne room. Nyx had seated himself next to his best friend Alex, Camila and Lucien’s son.

From what Azriel had heard Lucien treated Alex as his own from the moment he met him, adopting the boy immediately after he and Camila married. He seemed to be a fine young man and a positive influence on Nyx, who kept Rhys and Feyre on their toes these days. Perhaps karmic justice for the hell Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian put Rhys’ mother through in their youth.

Three little girls ran through the room, two with vibrant red-hair, tan skin and freckled golden cheeks; one with dark hair, fair skin, and her mothers eyes; their giggling rang out above the chatter filling the room as an older child, a boy of eleven years old - Azriel still remembered the day the announcement arrived to the Night Court of the birth of the first Autumn Court heir - walked in a straight backed, lordly posturing behind them, a crease forming between his brows as he focused intently on his little sisters.

The boys long strides kept up with his little sisters as he reminded them to mind their paces. Lost in their merriment, the girls ignored his warnings until the boy finally let out an exasperated sigh. Stopping for a moment with his arms crossed, he raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shook his head, murmuring gods knows what frustrated curses. Knowing his mother, it was not the typical frustrated language of a child.

Azriel gave a small, sad smile at the memories elicited.

When the boy looked up, the girls had disappeared from his sight. He grew frantic for a moment until his Uncle Lucien walked up to him, pointing to his wife and the three girls pressing kisses and talking animatedly to her round, very pregnant belly. The boy gave his uncle a smile, shoulders sagging in relief. Lucien bowed down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The boy took his hand and walked back toward Camila and the sisters.

Azriel placed a hand to his chest at the wave of grief that rang through him. The mating bond may have been severed but he never could get over the love that he squandered. The family that could have been his.

“You don’t have to be here, brother.” Rhysand’s voice invaded his mind.

Azriel swallowed, willing his thoughts to a tone of neutrality. “She’s the High Lady of the Autumn Court, we’re immortal, we will have to be comfortable in spaces together. It comes with the territory.”

I miss you. Without you I just don’t fit in.

He didn’t have to say what his brother already knew. That yes, he was broken when she left. Broken further when she confirmed he was no longer her home. He’d hated himself for what he’d done, for what he put her through. For a long time, he’d been a shell of the shell of himself that he’d already become. Eventually, he’d taken to seeing one of the counselors in the House of Wind’s library. He was too far gone at that point to consider such an option but Rhys had coordinated with the priestesses and mandated it. Either he got help or lost his position in the Night Court.

Even after the countless hours of counseling sessions he’d attended over the years, that “savior complex” of his remained. Seeing Y/N thriving with someone else was fucking hard but not as hard as living in a world where he never looked upon her face again. As she assumed the title of High Lady, a target would lay on her back, just as one was on any other High Lord or High Lady’s back. He’d never forgive himself if his stubborn pride kept him from attending any court events she attended and something happened to his own High Lord or Lady… or if something happened to her.

I don’t know if I’ll ever find another you.

So here he was, alone at a table, in a now quiet throne room, watching the love of his life step out onto the dais in all of her resplendent glory, kneeling down before the male she loved. Eris’ eyes lined with silver as her own lifted to meet his gaze, her chin held high as she awaited his next move. Carefully, he lifted the emerald and ruby crested crown, with one large diamond centered between two golden leaves, off of the plush pillow it sat upon. Eris’ previous words rang true through Azriel’s head “Diamonds don’t crush under pressure.” The people of this court were truly fortunate to be under the rule of such a resilient and kind ruler. The shining diamond of Autumn. She would love them deeply and do right by them in a way so few leaders were capable of.

Azriel couldn’t contain the pride that welled up in his chest, tears threatening to spill over his thick lashes as the crown was placed upon her head. And yet it was Eris who looked at her like she was the very air that he breathed, as if nothing existed in that moment but the female at his fingertips, like the only reason he himself was brought into existence was to find and cherish her for eternity. And despite his disdain for Eris Vanserra, Azriel finally understood that this was where she belonged.

Everybody’s got somebody but me.

————————————-

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read this series! I loved writing it and I hope you are pleased with the ending. Some may ask, “What about Elain?” and to that I say, “What about her?” I find great satisfaction in the fact that she didn’t get either male, was embarrassed in front of the IC, and became so irrelevant that she was barely mentioned in the epilogue (aside from Lucien breaking the bond). Clearly, she’s still bitter considering she refused to sever the bond with him but he still found a way out (albeit painfully) and got his dream girl! Stay mad, Elain.

ACOTAR Tag List:

@lilah-asteria

Eris Tag List:

@angiedsv

Rainy Season Tag List:

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime @thegirlinshadows101 @viistrength @grunchwench @starryhiraeth @macimads @feiwelinchen @acourtofbatboydreams @nebarious @haechansleafblower @melsunshine @thegirlintheshadows101 @plsfckmern @existingthroughwords @mybestfriendmademe @strangersunghoon

[melliae]

Crazy Thoughts About Canto VIII Part 3

Did you know that in Hundred-Footed Death Maggot’s background has a sarcophagus at the center? But not any type of coffin; it’s an open one.

And it’s either filled with scrolls or bandages. I’m more partial to the second option, as the EGO animation is clearly inspired by the Jiangshi, or the Chinese “hopping vampire” (who was referenced all the way back in Canto V, as a story Hong Lu said Xiren told him once). This basically tells us that Centipede Apostle is a vampiric creature at some level… and that the same applies to the Elders or Xianren of H Corp.

Why do I say that? Well, beyond the similitude between the EGO background and the Tiekan temple (铁槛寺, or “Temple of the Iron Cage”), it’s because this last location was the family crypt or mausoleum of the Jia family in DotRC as far as I know. But then again, that’s something most people here intuit already, right? Especially with what Jia Mu said about following the “rivers’ path” despite the supposed obsession of the Elders of Hongyuan with immortality.

Anyway, the correlation between the Jiangshi and the Elders is interesting due to how contradictory it is: the Elders are Xianren, or the famous Immortals, ascetic sages or mystics that were able to attain immortality. Many things are said about them that I won’t touch here, but the important thing is that, like every good ascetic, connections with the natural world are present.

And Hong Lu said that the path towards the Elders looks even more “outside-ish” than the outside itself. Besides, the house above looks pretty metallic, with the mountains there referencing their classical depictions in East Asia to boot.

Anyway, as I said, Xian are supposed to be immortals, but true immortals. They do not age nor get sick. So, why are the Elders obsessed with the “immortality of the mind”? There are several options, but thanks to the above explanation, I’m partial to the idea they genuinely died and got resurrected, their bodies rotten and unable to leave the Tiekan temple, either because whatever “magic” they used ties them to it or because the Head will fuck them up if they go out.

(Look at those claws!)

Now, the connection between Centipede Apostle and the Elders seems to go deeper too, as the pillars in the temple have engraved centipedes on them.

(It could also be a dragon…)

So the connection is very obvious, and considering Ishamel’s EGO Corrosion, the Elders are pretty desperate to go outside. Their search for the immortality of the mind likely has to do with the idea of preserving their individuality in another body, skipping all possible limitations their current form of bodily immortality has. And for that matter, yes, I’m completely sure about the body snatching theory thanks to a certain post I read some days ago.

“蝍蛆殺” is the Chinese “name” of the EGO, and it’s a reference to The Erya, a book of the Song period that, as the post writes, describes how centipedes can eat the brain of snakes. Again, centipedes—the Elders—can eat the brain of serpents. 

So yeah, the Elders are a bunch of sadistic vampires that want to eat people’s individuality. Worse of all? It has a fuckin’ explanation thanks to Hundred-Footed Death Maggot’s passive: Reversal Death by Gu Poison.

So, the Gu poison is the easiest part to understand: it’s an esoteric poison created by sealing several venomous animals (like the centipede) in a box or similar so they can kill each other, under the belief it would concentrate the toxins into the last survivor. Naturally, such a potent poison is extremely useful for evil magic and curses, such as killing people… But reversal of death? That’s a new one, and if what I think is correct, it means the Elders are being kept alive by the concentrated curses in Daguanyuan, Hongyuan, and, thanks to Hong Lu, the entire City, as they are nothing but enormous “boxes” in their own ways.

Now, since that conclusion looks pretty wild, I decide to check the Korean name of the passive to check it: “고독반살”, where “고독” should be read as “Gu Poison,” and “반살” as either “reversed kill” or “half kill.” So yeah, it’s likely the Elders feed from the misery they watch in BaoyuTV, just like the Jiangshi absorb the qi or life force of people. And returning to vampiric creatures…

I described Four-Hundred Roses as the embodiment of people that can’t let go of their desires and thus end up living life through others, with the “Four-Hundred” part referring to the countless names the Abnormality acquires (Millarca, Carmilla) in a fruitless attempt at changing its core nature—a bloody and meaningless imitation of baptism. And I hope you are familiar with the theory of how the RR final bosses foreshadow the final encounter of the next Canto because, while I don’t believe it too much, what I described is eerily similar to the Elders’ situation, isn’t it? And fortunately, someone on Reddit already did the heavy editing work :) If the theory is right, then the Elders will merge into a single entity…

I also want to highlight how similar those wings from the CG are to the ones in Hong Lu’s Tears of Tarnished Blood. What does that mean? I’m not sure. I just wanted to mention it xD.

At any rate, the TL;DR version of this… theory, I guess, is:

The Elders were resurrected and now are hiding in the Tiekan temple for ABC reasons.

They need to feed on misery and pain to keep their immortality.

They are losing their individual differences, bearing different names despite slowly becoming one entity.

The final fight will be against the resulting “Gu Poison,” which either will be its own entity or hijack Jia Mu’s body.

Did you know metal is weak against water according to the Wuxing?

[izzyfishie]

i’ve had a theory for a while now.

perhaps this is a bit controversial, and i very much could be wrong, but this is what i think (and have for a while).

so.. the wall murals in season 2.

it’s kind of difficult to see, but we can very clearly see the spikes with people falling, and a chessboard-looking thing.

there’s also words here.

now, what does all of this mean, you may ask?

a lot of people have theorized that these murals will correlate to the new games. perhaps baduk/GO monkey bars.

but think about it for a second.

if these murals will correlate to the new games, why don’t red light green light, or the pentathlon, or mingle have a mural? why would the gamemakers be so selective? not to mention, there’s nothing involving the dolls/train station that we see in the end of season 2 teaser. nothing about squid game either, which i always assumed would be the last game every year, but who knows.

and the producers already know that we know about the wall theory. why would they give everything away again?

i feel like the wall murals are a red herring of some sort, and there’s really no way to know what the next games are going to be.

—

somebody on reddit says that those words state “HODIE MIHI / CRAS TIBI”, which translates to “today me, tomorrow you” in latin. apparently this phrase was often inscribed on tombstones.

finally, the chessboard-looking thing. there’s many crosses, which also symbolize graves and general loss of life. (that also correlates with the tombstone stuff mentioned above!)

the spikes appear to be people falling or clinging onto things. this seems the most obvious — when you fall, you die.

what do all of these things have in common?

death.

i think that the wall mural is all symbolism, particularly for death, and not the games.

and think about it. lots of the contestants are CHOOSING death by voting O (which will eventually lead them to their deaths in the end)

(less serious bit) this is presumably the first year that the money can be split. perhaps the gamemasters were predicting the outcome lol /silly

—

am i crazy? hell yes! this theory is so fucking far-fetched and insane but you know what? i said what i said!

this is why i don’t try to guess the games as well lol

[genderqueerdykes]

hey sorry this isnt really an ask so much as a vent abt being 'cis' intersex. I stumbled across a video of someone bragging about disarming anti-trans talking points by telling a cis man with gynecomastia 'he doesnt need gender affirming healthcare! he shouldn't mutilate his body!'

I cant be the only person who thought this was such a fucked up thing to say but everyone else was encouraging this behaviour and its kinda devastating to see.

I understand the frustration the trans community experiences as someone who is also trying to get medical procedures done. but the intersex community is the LAST community that anger should be taken out on

We are the last people who need to be reminded that sex and gender aren't binary.

We are the last people that 'need to be shamed' for not fitting into those binaries.

intersex people are not 'lucky' for being medically pressured into erasing their intersexuality. We are not lucky for being forced to undergo medical procedures to conform.

And as of lately, I've seen way too much infighting specifically coming from perisex trans people trying to belittle intersex cis people to try and 'prove a point.'

I cant be the only one noticing this.

I also commented on OPs video to tell them intersex people are not the enemies of trans people, and they refuted gynomastia isnt inherently an intersex condition, saying i missed the point of the video being about how society views some gender affirming care to be acceptable but not transness. He also said that the situation was a hypothetical and didnt actually happen.

But still, trans advocacy has no excuse to build itself upon the hatred towards intersex people. And whether that conversation was 'real' or not was irrelevant considering the hundreds of comments taking inspiration from him and claiming to partake in bullying obvious intersex people.

and off topic, his point wasnt correct. I'm a cis intersex male with a female presenting phenotype, and I've been denied top surgery for years and been pressured into transitioning to a girl because it would be easier for me to pass as one than to pass as a guy. despite me being a cis guy.

The blatant intersexism I've been seeing with the trans community has not only been growing, but completely welcomed into the arms of other perisex trans people.

Im 'cis' because i identify with a gender that correlates with my sex. i'm 'trans' because im transitioning to better conform to my gender. I'm so sick of intersex erasure from queer communities. cis intersex people are not less queer. we are not less likely to be victims of transphobic violence or medical violence.

I want this ignorance to stop but I dont see an end, even in so called 'allies' who turn their backs on intersex people to spew this kind of bullshit. I'm sorry for such a downer but I dont have anyone in my life who would take my side or understand where I'm coming from, and my account has absolutely no reach to the intersex community

agreed, that's not okay. people are being so rude right now. cis intersex people don't deserve to get any shit. it's perfectly okay to be cis and intersex. you should never get angry at an intersex person who isn't trans what the hell? honestly it's hard to participate in discussions in trans spaces as an intersex person. i do understand the frustration it becomes nigh impossible to speak up about how it's okay if intersex people aren't trans or gay or bi or anything like that and that they should still be accepted as intersex

idk how intersex cis people could ever be a threat to me. i don't mind that at all. like we still have a ton in common. we're both still people. we both still have unique lives and struggles. we both have something to learn from one another. i actually have a lot to learn from intersex people who want to be seen as cis or fight for it.

i'm tired of people trying to draw lines in the sand when it comes to who "counts" as intersex. it's so cruel. i don't like it one bit. it's not helping anyone and it's talking over intersex people. but any time intersex people talk it's somehow transphobic. can't win.

[boymanmaletheshequel]

One facet of Hellenistic and Roman, /Greco Roman paganism that I’ve always found extremely interesting to me, is how inherently human and relatable it’s gods, and their correlating counterparts are, especially when compared to deities in other ancient religions. They are divine, of course, this is made clear enough, but they all have aspects and traits to them that are inherently human. Rage, lust, joy, love, conflict. They represent, if nothing else, key elements of humanity and the human condition, which is something that no other ancient religion I’ve studied quite compares to in the same way. And not only that, but their relationship to people and humans as gods is clearly very symbiotic. They rely on their subjects for their fulfillment, interact with them directly on a regular basis, and often times even respect and revere them as not necessarily always equals, but as at the very least, creatures worthy of their consideration and respect, sometimes even falling in love with, and baring children with them. This is something that doesn’t really happen in any other ancient religion I’ve seen, sure, there are aspects of it in them, but not nearly are they portrayed as objectively or centrally as they are in Hellenism and Roman paganism. Each god represents some aspect of humanity in ways that are inherently non-Devine, Aphrodite is a lover, sometimes desperate to a vulnerable degree you wouldn’t expect a god to be. Dionysus is regularly consumed by madness as a result of his addiction and mental illness, and falls into spirals of depravity that are hauntingly ungodly. Artemis hunts even though she doesn’t need to, she respects her body as a goddess woman just as much as any human woman would, and fights back just as violently as well. Apollo finds much of his joy and happiness through the humans he falls in love with, and faces much of his suffering and sadness through them as well. Persephone fucking dies. maybe not literally in the sense of human, medical death, but absolutely metaphorically, and the grief her mother Demeter experiences is so inherently human, and so shockingly, gut wrenchingly tragic, that it is pretty obvious that this is what her story is meant to represent: a divine allegory for death and grief, an element that so many religions completely separate from their deities. Even Zeus, the primary deity, is a father figure who’s connection and relativity to fatherhood as seen in human men is almost identical. and if it weren’t for the pre-established lore and status of him as a an extremely powerful deity, there are moments in his Mythos where you might even forget that he’s a god, an all powerful, all divine, objectively non human god to begin with. I think it’s what makes Hellenism so emotional and so drawing to me, and to many other pagans, it’s a relationship that is mutual, and relatable, which is an element that is lacking in so many religions, even the major ones like Christianity and Islam. Yes, there are still elements of this in those religions, but it always feels like the stories constantly hammer in the fact that they are divine, so divine, so utterly unrelatable, so inherently disconnected from their subjects and their plights as a superior enitity, that there’s a limit to how connected one can feel to them. In hellenismos, this limit doesn’t seem to exist, and that’s something that makes it so much more personal and fascinating to me than any other religion I’ve studied. The gods are us, and we are the gods. At the end of the day, I think that’s what all religions should be about, and ultimately, are about, wether we realize it or not.

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

I'm the kind of person that enjoys genderbends of characters and likes to change the names when I genderbend them (I'm a fake nby, I know 😔)

But! When changing the names, they have to fit the same general structure and vibe as the actual character's name or I get annoyed. If you got a Darron you can change it to Donna and if you change it to Delilah I'm gonna throw hands with you. (There are exceptions and this is on a case to case basis)

But. I can't with Stanford. I just can't. Read more to watch me have a breakdown.

Anyway so I was like "what would Stanford's genderbend name be? Here's some guidelines I have to follow: It has to start with s and have an f in it. It also has to be able to have a nickname starting with f. And preferably it has to be 2 syllables. And I was like "how hard could that be?"

First I came up with "Saffron" but there's not really a nickname for that. Next is "Sofia" which can have the nickname "Fia" or "Fifi" but it's 3 syllables. Then I was like okay "Saphire?" But that doesn't even have an f, and what's the nickname? Fire???

Okay so maybe Saffron with the nickname Fran. I can settle for that. Then. It hit me. I forgot one key rule. Whatever Stanfords name is has to be correlated with whatever Stanley's name is and preferably he can have a nickname with the front half so he can pretend to be Stanford for years without having to call himself Grunkle Ford.

So... the obvious choice for the name Stanley is Stacey with the nickname Stace... but now we've lost the similar names. Sally could work but I hate that and also what's the nickname? Sal? The kids are gonna call Saffron "Sal"?

Let's have Ford's name be Stefany and his nickname is Franny. Then we can have Stan's name be Stella and- nope no nickname there.

Okay. Fuck the f nickname rule. All we need is two s names that share the same first part and can have two separate nicknames. Maybe Samantha and Sammy except no because who's gonna call Ford "antha" that's not a nickname. Sabrina and Sabella. No. No nicknames

And now the names list I'm looking at ALREADY looks like it's giving me made up names that are just existing names mashed together like Shawnilyn and Shawnancy so you know what!? YOU KNOW WHAT???

Stanley's name is Stacey and I'm making up the name Stacefran. That's a name now. It works. I solved it.

Except, the fact that its "Stacefran's" name that is made up bothers me because I always assumed Ford came out first and Filbrick was like "We'll name this one Stanford!" All proud or psudo-proud. And then Stanley came out and he was like "oh uh. I don’t know. Stan...ley or something. Whatever." Because poor Stanley is cursed by the universe. No way in hell did Filbrick see a kid pop out and go "yes. I'll name you the very normal name, Stacefran. What a wonderful name"

So I still hate it. And nothing will ever fit 😭😭😭

[txttletale]

In response to your overwatch posting but more about competitive games in general, why is it fine and good for certain things to be low or high teir? It's a pipe dream to perfectly balance a game, but isnt the shackling of playstyles, characters, etc to a certain skill group a problem that fucks players at every level?

it's fine and good because it allows for designs that you couldn't make if you really want every character to be equally good. there's a basic expectation from players of competitive games that success should be correlated with skill, that if you play better, if you are better at the things the game asks of you (skillshots, or aiming, or movement tech, or inputs, or whatever) you will see better results. this is what makes a game competitive, right, the ability to get better and see your performance improve as a result.

this means, that, generally speaking, the harder a thing is to do in a game, the more rewarding it will be. this is the logic behind headshots in FPS games, right--it's more difficult to hit a headshot than a bodyshot, so you get rewarded with more damage. better players can hit more headshots, so they'll get more damage (and presumably more kills) in an average round than worse players. so now, let's say you want to introduce some playstyle differentiation into your game, so you add the Scanner, a gun that deals half damage on bodyshots but double damage on headshots.

this is a cool idea! it rewards you even more for showing skill at the game, makes people using it feel really cool when they get that bonus, poses interesting questions to players about trading consistency for volatility. but because it interacts with a skill-based mechanic, its viability is obviously going to be tied to a player's skill--if you're in a pro lobby hitting 60%+ of your headshots, it's an obvious pick. if you've just started playing and you average one headshot a match, it's a total dud.

this is a really on-the-nose example, of course -- but in any kind of competitive game, there are likely going to be far more than just one skill-based mechanic, as well as meta-skills like team communication, positional awareness, understanding matchups, etc. that are going to vary between low and high levels of play. so trying to make a character/weapon/playstyle equally viable at every level of play would mean having to make them essentially agnostic to all those things--which would mean not allowing them to interact with any of the mechanics of the game--which is, practically speaking, impossible.

on the other hand, purposefully designing 'low-tier' or 'high-tier' characters lets you do lots of really useful things! first of all, it lets you make easier characters for beginners, who don't have a huge amount of mechanical complexity to deal with, have some kind of 'training wheel' ability that mitigates a new players' lack of all these game-winning skills. like, say, a gun in that same FPS designed for a 'spray and pray' playstyle, or a character in a fighting game who revolves around one comparatively simple combo. having something like this lets new players onboard to your mechanically complex game without getting overwhelmed or disheartened, by letting them get into a match and feel like they're doing something as soon as possible.

as for 'high-tier' characters, acknowledging that a character will have to be nerfed into unplayability for low ranks lets you actually play with the upper ends of the mechanical complexities you've put into your game. creating characters with extremely complex movement techs that can offer marginal benefits that are game-defining in pro play but basically meaningless in casual play adds a new dimension of depth to high-level play that you can't get if you're too concerned about making every character good at every level.

ultimately, i don't think it fucks players, and i don't think there's any shackling being done--i think it's good to create characters that lean into different parts of a game, for characters to fill different niches in a meta's ecosystem, and for the lists of pro staples and pubstompers to be different.