#oops did i say too much

[buttercreamdicks]

Wow the beginning of today's More is emotionally taking me places and feels so much deeper after witnessing (what was hopefully the first episode of) The Pudding Hole with Jordan & Link

[hinamie]

i don't normally participate in these redraw challenges but it's megumi so i'll make an exception

[i-cant-sing]

I mean...if u do write platonic konig u already know we're eating it up

yes, and i just found out that mountain of a man has crippling social anxiety and that he only found solace when he was beating up people to a pulp (hes messed up and is giving highkey "i can fix him" energy) so yall KNOW he would be a great platonic figure (imagine him as like platonic yandere bestie/bro/found family with reader) and i watched a clip where he broke a man's back by slamming him on his knee- mwah delicious (imagine konig breaking your s/o back like a glow stick).

I love mountain man konig <3

[themalhambird]

The forge lies in ruins. Ash and dust choke the air; stonework lays scattered and smashed to pieces on the floor. The fires blaze like wolves raging against their containment: hotter, brighter, angrier than any smithing-fire ought to be, suffocating the room with heat.. And the scents clinging to the air underneath it all. The lingering stench of burning flesh, the metallic touch of spilled blood , coats Enerion’s tongue. 

Nevertheless, a little of his heart lifts with joy. The Lord of Eregion’s once rich gown is scorched, torn, bloodied; it hangs from his trembling frame in tatters. His feet are bare and filthy; one ankle is fettered. The silver chain, barely three feet long, glints and snakes like a river in the moonlight, tethering the smith to his anvil. Even from here, Enerion can see the bruising, the skin rubbed raw where the circle of metal bites into flesh. Celebrimbor has been made a prisoner in the one place that was ever his sanctuary- has undoubtedly been tortured-

But he is there. Sitting on the steps, hunched over and whispering almost soundlessly to something he seems to be holding in his bound, trembling hands. Against his darkest fears, Enerion has found Celebrimbor alive. 

His initial appearance elicited no reaction from Celebrimbor, but as Enerion begins to cross toward him, footsteps- light as they are- somehow echoing around the otherwise empty room Celebrimbor’s head whips toward him. He scrambles back, the movement eating up the few inches of give remaining on the fetter chain and then some- his ankle bending in a way it really shouldn’t. His hands move so quickly Enerion can’t quite track it, but whatever he was holding seems to have quite vanished. Celebrimbor’s right palm rests flat against the stone, his left hand anxiously crumpling the soiled fabric beneath his fingers. His face is streaked with grime, his temple streaked with blood- his lower lip split, his cheek marred with ugly, angry bruising, his flesh ashen and  gaunt. The eyes that fix on Enerion’s face flash with a fear that quickly fades into dull exhaustion. His mouth twists mockingly. “So,” he says. “That is your latest mask of deception? What do you think to achieve with me, by stealing that face?”

He thinks I’m Sauron. A reasonable, if bleak, assumption. Enerion moves toward Celebrimbor as cautiously as he might approach a wounded deer. He seats himself on the steps next to him, close enough to reach out and touch but keeping his hands to himself for now. The neckline of Celebrimbor’s gown has been  ripped. Enerion’s eyes are drawn to his shoulder, just below the collarbone, where the broad, crude strokes of an eye have been seared into his skin. Enerion grimaces, joy at finding his friend alive dimming just a little. The brand is fresh enough that the skin surrounding it is still blistered, the wound raw and weeping. How much might he have been spared, if I had taken action sooner? Gil-galad pushes the thought aside. Now is not the time for it. “Celebrimbor,” he says. “This is not a trick, or an illusion. Sauron has fled. Eregion is safe, you are safe-”

“Oh?” Celebrimbor says mildly. “And what will it cost, my deliverance, hm? Oh, Sauron is only fled, not vanquished. Will you have a weapon of me that can kill him? Would you have more rings-” he breaks off into a dry, rasping cough. Enerion pulls the water skin from his belt and flicks the stopper free, putting it to Celebrimber’s cracked and bleeding lips and holding it as his friend drinks. After a few gulps, Celebrimbor abruptly turns his head away, eyes closing and tears appearing in the creases of his lids.c The tremors running through him grow worse, every line of his battered body grows ridgid with tension. Enerion waits for a moment, then sits back and puts the water away. Another moment. Celebrimbor does not move. He doesn’t speak. Enerion turns his attention to the chain around Celebrimbor’s ankle. 

“I’m getting you out of here. Into the fresher air, the sunlight, and then the medic’s hall.” There’s a hammer lying not far off. With a few hard, targeted blows (and a slight surge from Vilya, the ring seeming to feel definite dislike for the chain holding its’ creator) the fetter falls apart. 

“I won’t do it,” Celebrimbor states. Enerion looks back up at him. Celebrimbor stares at his newly freed foot with a kind of morbid curiosity, before hurriedly pulling it into himself as if for protection and flitting his eyes up to Enerion’s face, his expression twisting into pale, frightened, certainty. “Whatever you think you can use this face- this voice- this false rescue to order me to, Shadow of Morgoth, you can forget it- if I mindlessly obeyed Gil-galad’s orders, I wouldn’t be in this mess, now would I?”

Despite himself, Enerion’s lips twitch. “I’ll remind you of that when I’m next delivered Eregion’s tax ledgers, all neatly signed with some apprentice or other’s best imitation of your signature,” he threatens lightly. Celebrimbor’s brow furrows, and the defiance in his eyes falters. For the first time, they seem to fall to the ring on his hand. “...High King?” he whispers. A mouse runs out from his sleeve, dropping to the floor and scampering up to sniff and squeak at Enerion with curiosity. With the way Celebrimbor’s eyes follow the creature- first with a flash of alarm at its appearance, and then with hope as it seems to deliver a verdict in Enerion’s favour by hopping up onto his boot, the High King suspects that this is what, or rather who, Celebrimbor had in his hands when Enerion first saw him. Celebrimbor looks from the mouse, to Vilya, to Enerion’s face. He bursts into tears. Relief seems to break Celeibrimbor in a way that fear could not. Enerion gathers him up in his arms, cushions his head in his lap, and holds him, runs his fingers soothingly through Celebrimbor’s brittle and dirty hair, and lets him fall apart. The back of Celebrimbor’s own, and the shirt beneath it, have been torn down the middle as far as his waist. It hangs open, revealing a map of welts, a criss-crossing of scars and deep, scabbing lines. Enerion rests his palm just above the mangled flesh, and lets Vilya ease the pain. 

*** 

At length, Celebrimbor’s tears slow. Between his gasping apologies, keening statements, and desperate questions, Enerion thinks he has a clearer illustration of what Sauron wrought on Celebrimbor’s mind. His heart twists at Celebrimbor’s description of “realising” that his city was under siege, had been for weeks while he laboured, oblivious…that the siege was simply another layer of illusion, a second blindfold slung around Celebrimbor’s eyes when the first began to slip, seems difficult for the Lord of Eregion to believe, but it does explain the state of the Forge. Stage-setting. “I suppose,” Celebrimbor murmurs., when the High King makes the suggestion. “Avoids another mishap like the everlasting candles.”

Enerion doesn’t ask for clarification. He continues to stroke Celebrimbor’s hair. Celebrimbor exhales, pressing into the touch. “You are being very kind to a prideful and reasonous fool,” he murmurs. “You need not fear that I am too fragile to answer for what I’ve done- do with me as you must.”

Enerion’s hand stills. “Celebrimbor,” he says finally, carefully. “As Lord of Eregion, do you see fit to punish the elves who, at Sauron’s bidding, seized you and brought you up to this place to be chained, flogged, and branded? Do you intend to pass sentence on the smiths who forged restraints for your wrists because Sauron instructed them to do so?”

Because Celebrimbor’s back is to him, Enerion senses, rather than sees, the other elf’s immediate frown. “Of course not! They didn’t know- they weren’t to blame. They thought I was completely out of my senses and they were frightened— oh. I catch your drift.” He sounds a little put out about the connection he’s just made, and Enerion rather suspects that Celebrimbor would find his own guilt easier to bear if he felt he were acting out a penance for it. 

“I’m taking you to have your injuries properly looked at,” he says, shifting his grip. “I’m going to carry you, because it will be faster, and if we’re too much longer the guards I left at the foot of the tower will get nervous and come looking for me, at which point they’ll all try to be helpful and they’ll get in the way. And if,” he adds, rising to his feet- one arm beneath Celebrimbor’s knees, the other around his back, and Celebrimbor’s head falling against his shoulder, “it will make you feel better, I’ll send Elrond by to scold you each and every afternoon the healers have you on bedrest.”

Celebrimbor’s quiet but genuine laugh as they leave the forge behind warms the king like a summer’s day.

@fantasyquests - tagging you because your tags on the concept-post I made along these lines expressed interest in this being written : )

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss her…

[ratatatastic]

scare the hoes more and keep yapping about ekky (& others) getting used to maffhew, it delights me. and say even more about how sasha handles this feral and sweet omega that gets dropped into his orbit. smth smth “feels like i’ve known him 10 years” or whatever vows sasha recited to the press, cameras, and god

apparently we are taking more tumblr user ratatatastic abo yap thoughts for 500 may god hear our screams up wherever he is. big man in the sky you fuckin owe me one.

i think theres so much in particular to say in concerns of 1619 and how quickly they gelled irl but even more so in an abo au

ive always enjoyed when people assign matthew stronger scents that take getting used to if you don't like it already and i know ive read a fic where his scent notes did skew towards stronger cinnamon foods/drinks

anyways on that note it wouldnt surprise me that sasha takes so easy to this spicy little omega.

Like of course he does, he smells like the pastries he used to eat back at home, the pastries he eats now because he's found an established Finnish bakery down here that makes them homemade every morning, the bakery he likes to frequent with the other Finns when he can.

Is it ever a wonder that the cute omega that sent him such a terribly sweet text when the trade news broke out (you know, after the initial excitement worn off because Sasha does chuckle at memory of the brash "Fucking, right!" that pinged on his phone the very first time from an unknown number) smells like... home... No matter all the rumours that have swirled around Matthew, the rumours Sasha has personally experienced himself playing against him...he smells nostalgic. Like Sasha could be at home right now—you know, home home—lounging outside his cottage with tea and pastries on the little table that he's set out. The warm cinnamon that wafts from the typically sterile room they've assigned for pressers smells divine, for lack of a better word. It smells indulgent. Because Sasha can't have those homely pastries all the time, what, with his training regiment.

It's why he doesn't quite believe it that Matthew's the one that's the centre of it all. He's absolutely convinced he's hallucinating because the season is about to start and he's had to cut back on all his favourite sweets as much as it pains him to but for the betterment of the team? He'd do anything. And yet despite the way he rubs at his nose to at least try to clear it, he smells that cinnamon. That cinnamon that's definitely coming from new omega they traded over who's laughing so obnoxiously at the lectern they have set up that if his scent didn't catch your attention, his loud mannerisms certainly did. His voice is practically bouncing off the walls in big loud echoes that should hurt Sasha’s ears. Emphasis on should. As it is he finds his heart melting more than it should instead.

It's been quite a long time since someone's scent has moved him this much. All the people that have, have been in his life for so long he's forgotten what it's like to feel instant scent compatibility. His nostrils are flaring and he's trying his best not to open his mouth to huff in big gulps of it because it's rather impolite to be so obviously scenting the new guy. It could be misconstrued as Sasha taking offence to the new presence in the room.

Some part of his brain is still trying to catch up to the idea that Matthew even smells at all because the first time he met him (down here for some joint offseason ice-time) he didn't particularly smell like much, if at all really. Whether it's because he put on blockers to not intrude on pack territory until he smelled more like them, or he was still on suppressants even in the summer, Sasha wasn't sure and he definitely wasn't going to ask about it.

Known him for 10 years? He feels like he's known him his whole life. But 10's a safe number, 10's a number that won't scare off this new omega, right? 10's a number that conveys "As Captain I want this to work out, I'm opening up my pack for you, I won't shun you, you're welcome here," and not "If I stick my nose in your neck right now to scent you, they're gonna have to forcibly evict me from the new home I've found in you, and it's not gonna be a pretty outcome."

It's also why he's a little nervous when Media Day is over because despite how much it dragged along in years past it practically blitzed by and now Sasha has to—

You know, properly scent the new addition. Give them the purring acceptance of their Pack leader's scent to carry with them. And it's nothing big, it's just some chaste wrist rubbing... something subtle and not too overwhelming for everyone: the pack, and the newcomer alike. It's not like Sasha is going to mouth at Matthew's neck glands. He doesn't think he can even handle that right now but that's a problem for future Sasha—for when Matthew is really part of the pack and not like a goldfish in a plastic bag being dunked into an aquarium to get used to the water temperature. He just has to rub his wrist against his, it's like basic Alpha etiquette. It'll be fine, mostly. He hopes.

And it's as anticlimactic as he thought it'd be: gentle reintroductions and reignited chatter of excitement about the new season that's about to start... maybe just with the new lingering scent of sweet and spice in the background as if someone lit up a candle without Sasha even noticing it. It's a struggle to keep his eyes from closing from how heavy they feel, from how relaxed he feels in the presence of this new omega he knows has pissed him off on several occasions as composed as he was about it.

Matthew presents his wrist in a flourish successfully managing to divert his attention back to what they're supposed to be doing all alone like this in the dressing room like this, "I'm sure you've been dying to do this huh, Cap?"

Sweat starts to break out at the back of his neck. He knows? Sasha doesn't think he's been sending off any signals that could've hinted otherwise but Sasha admits that he's well out of practise, he hasn't had to reign in his scent this much in such a long time, and maybe Matthew picked up his weird fixation—

Matthew waggles his eyebrows for extra effect an offbeat later when the joke doesn't seem to land the way he wanted it to.

Oh, thank Christ, he's just teasing him. It's a joke. He doesn't actually mean it in the way Sasha thought he meant.

"Yes. Yes, I have," Sasha chuckles in relief, shaking his head at Matthew's attempt to lighten the mood.

"10 years, or so I've heard, bud."

"You heard? Uh, listened to the..." he trails off.

"Kinda hard not to when the setup made it sound like you were in the middle of the Earth, my guy. I don't think my ears are ever gonna recover from that."

"It's the first day for everyone," Sasha lightly chastises, not particularly aggrieved at all but wanting to keep up the banter to stall for time, so he can prepare himself. Quite honestly he feels like travelled back in time to the young anxious Alpha he was breaking out into the league for the first time.

"Be gentle, I bruise easily."

"Right, gentle. I'll treat you better than my clothes on the delicate cycle."

"Is that supposed to be a line?" Matthew says in glee, his voice pitching into incredulity.

"Line like fishing?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I'm talking about! You've been in this country long enough to pick up on that!"

"Yes, yes, that."

Matthew shoves at his shoulder playfully. "Just go on and do the thing already."

"Doing the thing."

Matthew snorts but his wrist is limp in Sasha’s hold. And as much as it was a dumb joke he does feel delicate between his fingers like that. So delicate that when he rubs his own wrist against his—to transfer over their pack scent—he feels like he's going to break it if he holds onto it for too long. It's why he drops it as quick as he took it, hands scrambling to his sides in an effort to remain polite but also to get a handle on himself so his pheromones don't go haywire with the new stimulus. It's a bit of a losing battle because he knows his scent just. But he can play it off as the excitement of an Alpha being able to claim another member to his pack, it's a possessive kind of thing.

"Well, see you around! Call it a hunch but I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other." And the joke wasn't funny the first time, truly the equivalent of leaning on the office fax machine and going "You come here often?" to your coworkers who just want to get their work done—and just as sleazy too with the greasy grin Matthew has permanently stuck to his face but Sasha still laughs like he did the first time he heard it.

And it's only now that Matthew is gone that Sasha realises the room smells strongly of cinnamon, so potent that anyone with a working nose would be able to tell that. Like Matthew was doing his best to ease Sasha’s obvious nerves when Sasha should've been the one to calm the omega who's been uprooted from their own pack and thrown into a completely new environment, himself.

"Jesus, it reeks in here. Smells like cinnamon," Aaron wrinkles his nose, wandering back in after his own media duties were done, finding Sasha all alone in the locker rooms.

"It does?" Like he can't tell the room smells like the equivalent of someone knocking over a Yankee Candle into an open fire.

"Yeah, like an awful lot." Aaron scrunching up his nose, trying to fight off an incoming sneeze. "It's strong," he says without thinking, swallows before his eyes shift over to Sasha and then to the floor, "Not bad just... strong..." The I can get used to it is left unspoken between them.

"I like it," Sasha admits because if Aaron is confessing to things without thinking then he might as well too. They've known each other long enough.

"I can tell." Aaron snorts, "You reek too."

Sasha lets out a questioning little noise, tilts his head to the side as he silently urges Aaron to continue.

"You have no idea what cinnamon and cardamom smell like together, do you? I feel like I walked into a bakery when I should be at the gym right now."

"Is that bad?"

"For you? No, of course not," Aaron's eyes soften, and while his scent wasn't anywhere close to abrasive, it does lighten up just a tad bit in the presence of his pack Alpha. "For me? I'd rather dunk my head in a bucket of coffee beans." A bit of an exaggeration on Aaron's part but the wry grin he has on really adds to the fact he's just joking—just a little, maybe there's some truth hidden in there. He knows how Aaron is, the way he tries to downplay anytime he bristles about something. Peace and vibes, and all that.

So Sasha can joke as well, "Forsy's stall is over there," and motions his head towards it across the room.

"Oh, hilarious."

"If I was funny I would say jock."

"You know, what? I think I will hit the gym today, thanks for reminding me."

"Mmm, anytime." And when Aaron's half out the door he adds, "Ask the staff where they put the jerseys we used today!"

"I'm going! To the gym!" he echoes back, not bothering to turn around as he shuffles down the hall in a hurry, and decidedly not going in the direction of the gym. It's not surprising when he hears chatter pick up and shoes scuffing briskly into the direction of the laundry rooms.

[rxttenfish]

Is there even any infrastructure for humans visiting merfolk underwater settlements? Or are they too deep for humans to comfortably dive/swim in? Or maybe the merfolk just say, "of course we don't have any support for you under several hundred feet of water. literally why would you even try?"

there's not any infrastructure for human (or any other sophont besides gorgons that already live there, anyhow) visitation! mostly that's because this is a bit of a first contact situation, albeit one that was born more out of political isolationism and not necessarily caring about the land-based sophonts...

basically, the current political entity overseeing all existing or known merfolk settlement is a fairly old one, that slowly grew from a smaller polity into a more all-encompassing unit by swallowing up its neighbors. it's more of a complicated shell game than this necessarily makes it seem - like i said, a lot of time has passed, and significant cultural shifts have happened within that time, as well as shifts and establishment on how its government and policies would function, so it's a little bit more of a larger conglomerate containing within it many smaller governments, who are allowed independent control of the populations within their allotted territories, just so long as they take up the job of translating the broader governmental laws and taxes down onto that population. the details are rather vague, and so long as the results are what the larger governmental body asked, the intermediary areas are allowed a lot of different ways to interpret what that means.

however, one of the things that got lost in that shuffle of politic and history was the presence of merfolk inland. historically, merfolk have actually periodically spent time inland! usually it was still very tied to the water, being more like seasonal beachcombing using temporary shelters and housing, but they utilized the land a lot more for potential resources and ways to live. the nomadic families especially used to take advantage of these opportunities, and there was much more interaction with landfolk in these contexts.

the exact way it was lost varies, in that not everyone agrees what came first or what was the reason or who did what, but most of this was probably limited and then lost due to the larger governmental body, in the process of colonization, banning merfolk from going up onto the land in order to prevent political enemies and refugees from fleeing up and onto the land, using it as a base of operations, or otherwise using it as a means to escape to other bodies of saltwater. like i said, these periods inland were mostly seasonal, and merfolk did still majorly depend on the water, so what merfolk did make settlements inland mostly ended up vanishing over time anyways - either through simply vanishing into landfolk populations, or through dying out, it wasn't particularly sustainable.

but, time still went on, and this ban remained, and somehow it slowly disseminated into popular thought that the land was just not really very interesting in the first place. sure, merfolk knew there was stuff up there, and other animals and even fairly smart animals, but that doesn't necessarily make it worth investigating. travel over land is hard for them, and it's hard for them to live on land for long periods of time, and everything that they need and depend on is in the ocean anyways. there's a lot less space to the land, there's nothing that would interest merfolk, it would be uncomfortable and painful for them to visit (a lot of myths and legends about the land and what lived there got started in this time, with a lot of focus on undead monsters that had dried out and were lit from within by the hateful light of the sun, and a lot of merfolk made a habit of coming up with scary stories about the weird things that must've lived in such an extreme environment), and there was a lot more political movements and such focused on other merfolk to begin with.

even moreso because merfolk still, technically, did go out onto land? it just wasn't very large portions of land, that is. mostly they would set up on much smaller islands and atolls, which would mostly be used for manufacturing or more technical jobs that required being done in the air. they really just needed the space, not anything specific already on the land itself, and the space was all functional, very little exploration or relaxation areas. sometimes these were used specifically to produce novelty items or experiences, but usually this didn't go much further than exploring the uniqueness of being in open air for the first time, and wasn't really pursued as much more than that.

so merfolk still knew the land was important and needed for ecological functioning - something they had learned the hard way, after an earlier period in their history pre-unifying government became known for a particular and acute ecological disaster, felt even harder by all merfolk on account of the properties of water and everyone living in the ocean. they view the land as functional in its own right - a needed recycling facility that operates itself and helps keep them alive, and one in a place that they had no interest in and could set aside for such tasks.

they also knew there was life up there, even intelligent life, but considering the period in time when merfolk ceased interacting with land-based societies, and the predominant view that what makes something sapient for them being a multiplicity and plural nature to it, on top of the complex interweave of language and meaning, they basically just viewed it as "smart animals". i've compared it before to like if we actually discovered warrior cats was real and there was a population of feral cats in a national park that had their own tiny society. it's interesting, for sure, but it wouldn't be the kind of thing that they might feel too passionately about, and can easily pass it off as a curiosity and a thought experiment all of its own.

the fact that this has changed at all, and especially in such a small time frame and with such major turnaround and abrupt interest in the outer governing body is actually really odd, and a major question and mystery in what i'm writing! the starting interest happened only just in the previous generation, and now they're making major steps towards introducing themselves to land-based civilizations in just miranda's generation, even to the point of sending her inland as an ambassador and an active participant in this shift.

most people on the land already knew that someone was in the ocean and actively preventing anyone else from crossing it or even getting particularly close, but they had no context for this any more than anyone else, and thus they might not raise as many questions about why this is happening than they should, especially since they don't know merfolk history. even most merfolk don't necessarily have all of the details of this shift, but they do know more than nothing, and certainly can note how odd it is and how weird such a change is.

likewise, neither civilization has very much to accommodate for the other, given as they barely even knew of each other by the time they were already designing how it was laid out, so the issues humans have accessing merfolk spaces is at least mutual, if nothing else. it's also something very likely to change over time, depending on how said first contact goes.

[lilac-melody]

Wondering if I should make a little oneshot about first kisses...

[yrlocalghost]

one of my coworkers is making me feel insane

[oveliagirlhaditright]

That moment when you see that Walmart sells Kingdom Hearts cakes (well, you can buy edible Kingdom Hearts images from Walmart to put on cakes) and one of the options is just Yozora pointing a crossbow at you... why?

-am tempted to just buy that cake so i can eat his face, as revenge for his super difficult boss fight that i'm still angry about-

[moe-broey]

Doctor appointment went to go get my shots and.

A. Visual. So you know what I mean by *broadly gesturing to all of me*

^ Immune to disparaging remarks. On account of The Autism.

[neo-shitty]

finally catching up with bsd after one hell of a month (+ midterms) 🫠

[avatarofwar]

i saw you talk about wolf a few times from sekiro and was wondering if you'd want to share more of your thoughts on him or sekiro as a whole, the game really interests me compared to other dark souls games so i wanted to ask

sorry for the late reply but oh boy do I have thoughts abt wolf. trying not to spoil the game, so I'm gonna refrain from talking about the story. might go into just restating known things about the game, but I'd much rather play it safe and not spoil the story

before going to that. the game is very much different from dark souls (setting wise, while taking place in a fictional country it is in a historical setting. I cannot comment on the setting properly bc I don't know much about the time period, however), most notably in the combat (primarily shifting from a dodge-centric playstyle to a parry-centric playstyle (significantly easier than dark souls/elden ring parrying, however), with dodges having significantly shorter i-frames and being very unreliable for dodging attacks). it's very different but something I really enjoy, even if I'm not as good as I am at typical soulsborne combat. it's really fun when you get the hang of it, and while I might not be The Best at it (which is mostly bc of how different it is from soulsborne games, so ofc I'm not as good at is as I am at the other fromsoft games I've played), it's something I can still enjoy

a huge thing about sekiro is the difference in how the story is told. in soulsborne games the story is something you have to figure out; progressing through the main path doesn't give you enough to piece everything together if you don't read any lore. with sekiro, however, the story is significantly more obvious, on account of the playable character having unique ties to the world and its characters, rather than going the soulsborne route of being one of many people (wording hard, but the chosen undead for example is no one special, just one of many undead trying to link the flame). it's a very different method of storytelling, but is still something really good. for as much as I adore having to actively hunt down lore and story in soulsborne games, it's also great experiencing story through natural game progression

wolf is also canonically disabled (loses his left arm at the start of the game) and has a really fucking cool prosthetic that is a whole part of the combat system (even though I personally keep forgetting to use it). so good for him. he deserves a prosthetic that can have deadly weaponry attached to it. like a mini-flamethrower. he deserves a mini-flamethrower, as a treat.

putting the wolf thoughts beneath a read more because this is getting long and I might spoil some stuff (mostly relationship with another character, I'll try to refrain from story spoilers. also spoilers in general, but there might be some), and he has definitely become a blorbo (additionally, content warning for abuse)

first of all. wolf makes me want to throw myself off a cliff and I mean this in the most positive way ever. he is great and I love him but man he needs so much fucking therapy and he doesn't even realise it (therapy probably doesn't exist in that time period, but besides the point). he is very much traumatised and has been heavily shaped by it and doesn't even know it.

prior to the events of the game (I forgot how long ago it was) he was orphaned by war and got taken in by owl, a shinobi and also a piece of fucking garbage. owl raises wolf to be a shinobi under the iron code, with the number one rule being loyalty to his father (owl), with his master (kuro, the divine heir) a close second (and also to give his life for his master if necessary. which is also a whole other thing to get into).

owl is very explicitly abusive. he raises wolf as a tool rather than a person, and that upbringing severely affects wolf as a character - he is an incredibly capable shinobi, but lacks any skills other than that; he does not know how to be a proper person, he is a loyal wolf, but he does not know how to be anything other than that. hell, without spoiling too much about the context, there is a cutscene in which owl actively attempts to guilt trip wolf, going as far as using fake tears (saying anything specific is very spoilery. this isn't even the only horrid thing he's done, but I'm trying to refrain from too many spoilers).

wolf canonically does not value himself without anyone to serve (we see this at the beginning of the game, as events prior to the start of the game not yet known about leads him to believe he has no one to serve, and thus no purpose, so he isolates himself from the world in a well for 3 years). while he does have compassion for others (most notable example being concern over victims of dragonrot), he starts off the game driven primarily by duty. he is loyal to a fault, willing to do anything for kuro, but also valuing his service to kuro more than himself (cannot remember the exact wording, but when kuro expresses concern for how many times wolf has died for him, wolf states that it does not matter as it was in service to him).

there's also the fact that wolf canonically eats uncooked rice and genuinely doesn't know - as a fully grown adult - you are supposed to cook it, which is... genuinely something awful if you truly think about it and what more it implies about his upbringing especially considering it's one of the most basic things you could learn how to make (just... says a lot about owl if you seriously think about it).

he is a loyal wolf, but he doesn't know how to be more than that. he doesn't know how to just... exist for himself, to be his own person separate of his duty and he doesn't even recognise just how fucked up it is, because how could he, when he was shaped into this as a child, when his own father wanted him to be nothing more than a tool to use.

I could say a lot more about his relationships with other characters (that are actually good people) and how it just. makes me lose my mind, but this post is almost 1k words. so, simply put, kuro genuinely caring about him makes me so fucking emotional, especially bc of owl; his father might be horrible and an abuser, he might not know how to be more than he was raised, but at the very least he can serve someone who actively cares about him and his wellbeing.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

pinning to the workshop corkboard: you've heard of winston "i'm cassandra" billions clairvoyance concepts for fun & profit, hear also of winston billions sphinx concepts (you must be This understanding of what he means to proceed)

[trashbaget]

tell me your failed/embarrassing flirting stories to make me feel better, i’ll go first: today i said “get out of my way” forgot to say “i’m kidding” then immediately said “bye”

[ratatatastic]

for everytime swaggy uses we are the champions in any post i think we need to shoot him with a paintball gun in the back