#regardless im looking forward to future

[learn-and-accept]

Starting to build a life with someone after spending years thinking you'd be alone forever is fucking wild

[arolesbianism]

Doodle I did of my girl Juliet earlier

[lookwhatyoumademelou]

.

[pastellmochi]

my moots who dont gaf ab paralive watching me lose it over kenta focus 1/29

here is sillydraw <33333333

[jaal-ama-daravv]

dissecting act 3 & emmrichs final romance scene (mortal & lich)

dissecting the graveyard scene dissecting the mortal romance path scene dissecting the mortal emmrich argument scene (all routes) emmrich x rook cinematic (mortal)

lich version dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) dissecting the emmrich romance scene (lich) mortal vs lich romance path emmrich x rook cinematic

look this is half a thirst trap post im not gonna lie to ya

ACT 3 - OH MY GOD.

Now. We all know that dreaded argument scene that fills us with angst and really gets us in our feelings for the final 4 hours. which was 100% done on purpose, thanks bioware, you succeeded. i did in fact regret that conversation and cried immensely

We have the argument with Emmrich, then we have our mini resolution of Emmrich trying to apologise, and Rook responding with, "We'll talk back home Emmrich, I promise."

Fast forward an hour, and ive just about pulled the plug because emmrich gets trapped by Ghil, someone dies, and then we are sucked into the fade - trapped. FOR WEEKS.

I truly wish bioware included flashbacks, or rook being able to see the lighthouse whilst they were trapped so that we see our LI panic, and fret. Can you imagine Emmrich? The last conversation they had was a fight, and a fight that stemmed from love at that. regardless of the route you took, both rook and emmrich regret that argument deeply. I mean deeply. And most likely regret not saying, i love you in that moment. or any moment. god when emmrich got sucked up by ghil i was locked IN. nothing was stopping me.

Emmrich wouldn't of been able to sleep, he wouldn't of been eating, he would've been working day AND night like a dog on the dagger. he wouldve been irritable, he wouldve been incessant, he wouldn't of been put together, not clean shaven. id bet money on this.

despite bioware not giving us a good reconciliation scene or a glimpse at what happend during those weeks - BOY DID THEY FUCKING EAt with the pulling you out of the fade section. Oh my god. Emmrich's voice being timed right after Varric saying with "You have everything you need", AND THEN PULLING YOU OUT OF THE FADE WITH HIS ARM.

anyway - AFTER T H A T.

You have the romance scene (mortal dissection | lich dissection)

and then my god - i have no words - literally - just look

goodbye ovaries

The Final Goodbye (Mortal/Lich)

Now these are the exact same for both mortal and lich, ill tell you when its different below - to which this is dissapointing as I feel like the final romance scene is so 'meh'? it's very idk, scripted. I feel like there needs to be a dip in emmrichs voice when he says i love you to rook - maybe its just me, but regardless, its meh meh to me. the whole scene is just kinda -

I'll skip to the romance part anyway as there is nothing of substance in the first half

1. I love you, too.

I feel like - underwhelmed with this response. its just slapped on like a bumpersticker

2. I'm glad we met.

I cannot believe that this line of dialogue is hidden beneath the most basic of thought processes - i love it

its emotonal - its hopeful

YESSSS - PLAN WITH ME!!!! This is digustingly impactful if playing the mortal path. the man has hope for the future. oh I need not say more for its delivered so wonderfully.

HEHE

3. Be safe. I can't lose you.

I thoroughly enjoy this path, I feel so much emotion from Rook and Emmrich in these lines. the worry, the love. although it is kind of a shock to the system because we still went from. OH MY GOD DEATH, to oh yeah death with Emmrich.

exactly how the argument scene should've went, BUT, I get it, now if only we had a reconciliation scene in the middle or a conversation, i'd have no notes and be out of business

Now here is the divergence, of like two lines, that occurrs directly after the above dialogue

Lich Version

Mortal Version

its sweet, its sensual, its loving. but there no oomf. theres no, fear. the mortal version is my preference here as I like the slight reminder of emmrich being alive. in saying that, considering what we have been enamored with and reminded of at every single quest of his. but in the last romance dialogue its, gone? the fear overcome? one line, one word makes a difference. idk man. like I have my full speculation that there is a sequel with rook and companins again, and if there is ill let this go. but if this is it, WITH no epilogue screen? please, as much as i like fanfiction and headcanons and art. id like it IN the game.

a fantastic romance, but a stale last conversation. IN SAYING THAT. I choose to look past it as much as possible as it is sweet and I just love him.

ANYWAY, love you all, im pen for questions and the full emmrich dissection with all my very detailed explantions is coming in a few days

♥

[judgedarts]

after 1 billion years.. my shop has finally been updated!!

⭐shop link⭐

i'm most excited to debut my ygo plush coin pouches and liquid shaker charms! the coin pouches have been in development for quite a while and i wanted them to be 1000% ready before showing off any photos 🥺 thank you so much for your guys' patience, and i really hope everything is to your liking!! <33 you can read further below for some thoughts for future products:

thanks for clicking! this year has been really challenging trying to balance cons and finding a routine, and also trying to update my store so i really appreciate you guys for sticking around and being so patient regardless :,) and speaking of the plushies, they genuinely did take 1 year from initial sketches to final product development @_@ this was my first time attempting plush, and i unfortunately chose to do incredibly complicated designs haha.. the amount of back and forth i did with multiple suppliers, trying to fix minute details, all the late nights and frustration was still worth it, because i think they came out really phenomenally 😭❤️ill also be attempting to create samples for a joey, kaiba, jaden, and yusei coin pouch. im honestly a little scared of the yusei design i came up with, but i have a vision that i want to achieve despite the challenges i see up ahead 🫡 ive also been meaning to expand my ygo crossbody bag line this year, but the plushies genuinely took up so much of my time that i couldn't allocate more time/energy into starting them. i already know what i want the GX and 5DS bags to look like, so please stay tuned! im aiming to have preorders for them ready by early 2025. i want to rep a jack atlas bag SO bad i will frow up!!!! i also wanted to try out these liquid shaker charms! ive always wanted to make something like this so im really thrilled with how they came out - im planning on adding more characters to this lineup since they're i can draw the little chibis pretty fast! for non ygo fanmerch - i would love to phase out some jojos items and make merch for some nostalgic video game/anime i enjoyed growing up!! as for comics... please also stay tuned! im really looking forward to prioritizing some sequential art going into 2025. i hope yall will also look forward to my shortbox comic T_T<3! thank you if you read all of this, it really means a lot!

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Chapter Five

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 3,000

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rating; 18+ for swearing and some mature context

Notes; As always, horrible described combat scenes. Also, a reminder for the text emojis, 💜 is Rafayel and 🩷 is Y/n

Also, I will be working on other stories and oneshots in the future! I just want to get this story rolling and then I'll begin writing other things.

Prev || Next

Masterlist

A few days later, Rafayel finally shoots you a text.

💜 :’miss bodyguard im in need of ur services’

💜:’theres a specific material I need to finish my artwork and only U can help me find it!’

Finally the message you were waiting for. You take a deep breath before sending your message back.

🩷 :’I'll have you know, I've been charging you half the usual price for my services. This better be worth it.’

💜 :’aww dont be like that! Come on over Ill tell you the details when yuo get here.’

You get dressed and head out, saying goodbye to Estelle on your way out.

Once at Whitesand Bay, you step into Rafayel's art studio and, of course, he's on the floor. You already know what's going to happen but you step forward regardless and put a finger to his nose to make sure he's breathing. “Rafayel?” you say, confused at how he was texting you one moment and now he's asleep. You look around the studio, noticing paint cans scattered all across the floor and unfinished paintings with the word ‘Lemuria’ written in the corner.

You go to tap his shoulder and he catches your wrist, causing you to jump in surprise and knock over a dirty water cup which bleeds onto a nearby canvas, revealing an ocean sunset. “Oh hey, you got here sooner than I anticipated.” Rafayel sits up and lets go of your wrist before holding his hand out, “Pull me up?” He tilts his head to the side with a smile. You sigh, shaking your head as you take his hand, but he has other plans and tugs you down with him.

“Rafayel!” you angrily groan as your knees hit the floor, your hand landing in a puddle of baby pink paint next to his head. “Are you crazy?” You ask, anger evident in your tone as you met his eyes from above him. “Mmh, only a little. Anyway, now that we're more comfortable, I need your help getting something.” He rests his hands underneath his head, making himself comfortable.

You roll your eyes and push your body up with one hand so you’re sitting next to him. “And you decided that was the perfect position to ask your question?” You raise a brow, shooting a pointed look at the baby pink paint on your palm. “I get it, it's not a good look. Let me take you out first,” Rafayel chuckles before saying, “Go wash your hand off, we can go to a café or something and talk.”

Once at the café, you sip on your drink as he explains what he's looking for is called a coral stone. He's painted with it before and he needs some more. It’s apparently a really important material for his next painting. “Look I-” But Rafayel shushes you, holding a finger to his lips as he spots something behind you. “There's someone here.”

“Is it someone from the N109 Zone? Why are they targeting you anyways? It makes no sense.” You scratch your head, annoyed at all of the interruptions, and he looks away for a moment, “I… refused to paint something for a big shot and, I guess, I pissed him off.” He shrugs before turning his head to look back at you, “Look, I know you said you want to get into the N109 Zone, so how about we work together, yeah?”

“I've been pretty busy these days…so I'll think about it.” You run a hand through your hair and then tap on the table with your nails. “Should we bait this guy out and see what he wants?” “Sounds fun, Miss hunter.” Rafayel smiles, before you both get up when a group of highschoolers are exiting the cafe and go straight down an alley where you ambush the guy.

He says he's a reporter and that a man who Rafayel sold a painting to died and the reporter was wondering if somehow Rafayel's paintings had killed the man. If you remember correctly, this was the same man who had a mermaid skeleton on display in his home so…maybe this is good riddance. Wait- or did Rafayel really kill that man because he had a lemurian skeleton in his home?

You both end up letting the man go but, before you do, Rafayel breaks his camera and you head back to Whitesand Bay together to look at the sunset. “Look, you don't have to say anything..Just come to the pier tomorrow at 10 if you're willing to go with me. And don't forget your promise.”

“What promise?” You tease before you reply quickly before he gets pouty, “I remember, don't worry.” It was the promise to be his bodyguard. “But if you do come tomorrow…I have an idea on how to get into the N109 Zone. The Nest is an information hub so we could…bait out Onychinus.” Rafayel turns to look at you and tilts his head to the side. “Sound good? I'll pull some strings and get you a Hunting day invitation, anything else you do after that is on you though.”

“You'll just have to show me how to be bait.” You say before you nod your head in agreement. “Deal.” You shake hands and go home to get up bright and early tomorrow.

You stretch your arms up in the air and yawn as you walk across the pier on Whitesand Bay. As you rub your tired eyes, you notice a tall man, that wasn’t Rafayel, standing on the pier. “Oh, hey Mr. Thomas.” You greet Rafayel's manager, who was a tired looking man. “Just call me Thomas. You know…I've never seen Rafayel this excited before! He's been like this since you've been around.”

“Oh really now?” You raise a brow, laughing before Rafayel steps in-between you both. “So you ready for our dangerous mission?” You ask and Thomas peeks around Rafayel with a look of shock on his face, “Wait, I thought you said this was a date!”

After this, the two of you hunker down into the small boat and begin to row toward the island in the distance. “Why couldn't you have gotten a motorboat?” You groan, tilting your head back as you aid Rafayel in rowing the rickety wooden boat. “Zayne said sun exposure to my scar may make it worse.”

“Zayne?” Rafayel raises a brow and scoffs, “on a first name basis with someone other than me?”

You pause, before internally cringing at your slip up. You throw a hand up in the air as you speak, trying to calm his dramatics. “He's my doctor. I've known him for a few years, remember?” You look away from him, not wanting to talk too much on that subject since you weren't sure what would happen.

“Hmm…Well, since you didn't ask yesterday or today, we're heading to Hat Island.” Rafayel says after a few moments of silence with a pout on his lips. “That one island that's riddled with wanderers? The one that everyone is told specifically not to go to?” You question before scoffing, “Huh, maybe I should charge you more.” “Don't be like that, cutie. The protocores from the wanderers here would be great to use as paint. Oh and the coralstone..it's said to be from Lemuria so that's why my paintings with it have illusion properties.” He decides to provide some exposition and you try to row a bit faster. “Anyways, you can't have all of the protocores, I have to submit some to the Hunter's association.” You grumble and the artist in front of you grabs your hand that's rowing. “Slow down, you're gonna make me seasick.”

After about thirty minutes of rowing, the island was finally close but it seemed like the boat was slowly falling apart. “Should we swim the rest of the way?” You worriedly ask, not fully confident in your swimming capabilities, since you can only doggy paddle and not actually swim. “And mess up my suit?” Rafayel retorts and you roll your eyes, “It's better than staying in a sinking boat.”

“Fine, we'll swim once we're closer.” The purple haired man reluctantly agrees as he notices more water seeping into the boat. “The boat will probably be fully submerged by then,” You comment, but continue rowing nonetheless.

Once on the island, you check your watch. “Hmm, it seems like the biggest fluctuation is on the other side of the island.” You say as you wring the water out of your hair. “We'll probably be here the whole day.”

You decide to shoot a quick text to Xavier, asking if he'll feed Estelle dinner tonight and then send another to Zayne, asking if he can reschedule your doctor's appointment for the day after tomorrow. “Alright, let's get going.” You start walking but pause as you notice Rafayel isn't following and has a pout on his lips. “What's wrong now?” You sigh and tilt your head to the side with your hand on your hip.

“You were texting other men with me right next to you.” He hmphs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Relax, Raf,” you roll your eyes with a smile, “I was asking my doctor to reschedule my appointment and my neighbor to feed my pet.”

“You got a pet?” The artist was suddenly interested, but you shushed him as you heard a twig snap nearby.

“Relax cutie, there's nothing around-” Rafayel suddenly lets out a yelp and hides behind you. “It's a monster!” He peeks over your shoulder and you let out a small laugh as you spot a small orange cat. “It's a baby! Come here, baby.” You crouch down and hold your hand out with a smile.

“A baby? That's an evil creature with razor sharp teeth and claws.” Rafayel hugs himself and shivers as he tries to stay far away from the little kitten.

“He's harmless.” You say as you hold your hand out toward it and the cat stood there with wide eyes before the fur on his back bristles and he hisses at you before taking a swipe at your hand. The man next to you moves forward and his hand gets scratched instead as he grabs yours to make sure you were unharmed. “Ouch- see I told you it was evil. I'm gonna die now that it scratched me!”

“Kill the dramatics, Raf.” You say with a laugh and you grab his hand to look at it. “It's barely even bleeding…Do you need me to kiss it better?” You tease and Rafayel raises an eyebrow with a mischievous smile playing across his lips. “Oh, would you now? I'll only feel better if you kiss me- I mean, my hand.” “Are you sure?” You muse before leaning forward to press your lips against it, keeping eye contact with the man before he gets too flustered and looks away.

“That's enough.” He clears his throat, pulling his hand out of your grasp as his ear tips turned crimson. “Let's get a move on and we might be able to leave before the sun sets.”

Once you both get to the other side of the island, the sun is already low in the sky and said sky is beginning to turn orange. “So much for leaving before sunset.” You sigh, kicking your feet as you walk along the beach before your watch beeps. “A wanderer?” You pull up the map, confused. “But where-” “There.” Rafayel points toward the ocean, “Looks like it's gonna pop up soon.”

From the readings on your watch, this was going to be a big wanderer. Hopefully the fight won't be too difficult.

The large, blue bird-like creature rises from the ocean and you take your guns out of their holster. “It's oddly pretty.” You comment before the bird lets out a shrill noise and flaps its wings shooting out blue feathers that embed themselves into the ground.

You roll out of the way, landing on one knee and you fire a few bullets into the creature. “Rafayel,” You shout and he gets the idea. He runs over and you take one of his daggers, flipping it between your fingers as he takes your second gun. You launch yourself into the creature with Rafayel's knife, still charged with his fire evol, digging into the bird's chest and you drop down through the air. Rafayel’s dagger cuts the wanderer from chest to belly but once you get its feet, it kicks you into the water.

Rafayel grabs his weapon in one hand as you fall and then catches you as well, one arm around your waist as water swells around you both. If his evol is fire, how is he using water?

The cut on his cheek heals and you can't seem to stay conscious to see him finish off the wanderer. Instead, you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the murky depths. A feeling of nostalgia washes over you as you feel a panic spread through your chest. You seemed…terrified of drowning but you have never been afraid of water before. Trauma doesn’t suddenly form so where did it come from? You want to cry for help but the moment you open your mouth, salty water fills up your throat and your body forces you to try and breathe. “Help me..” A memory almost resurfaces in your mind, but it’s put to a pause whenever you notice a faint red mark appear on Rafayel’s chest. Why wasn’t he coming to help you?

Though as your consciousness finally begins to fade, you could've sworn you saw Rafayel hesitate to save you. Then, the next moment, he's swimming toward you with a fishy tail? Whatever, it's probably just you hallucinating- is what you'd think if you didn't have any prior knowledge. You already knew Rafayel was lemurian, which is just a fancy way to say mermaid. He was from Lemuria, think of it like Atlantis but it's always been underwater. It was a city lost to time with Rafayel being one of the only inhabitants left, save for the other few people who escaped to land.

The next time you open your eyes, you're back on the beach next to a small fire. Your head was resting on Rafayel's thigh with his coat over your shivering body. You blink a few times before rubbing your eyes as you sit up and put your arms through his coat to wear it properly. It's dark out, you assume a few hours have passed since fighting that bird wanderer. You glance over at the artist and tilt your head to the side. “You…nevermind.” You shake your head before instead saying, “Did you get what you needed?”

“Ah, the bird dropped a pretty little protocore.” He holds the blue gemstone between his fingers as he shows it off, “annnd I also found some coral stones while you were out.” He puts the protocore away before pulling out a rectangular card. He hands it to you with his index finger and thumb. “Here.” “Is this..?” You take the card from him and open it up.

Invitation to Hunting Day. D-3

“Ah, so it's three days from now.” You unknowingly let out a sigh of relief and Rafayel raises a brow, “Are you scared now, cutie?” “Not really. I'm just reluctant to trust you.” You hmph, crossing your arms over your chest. “I saw how you hesitated to save me.”

“You saw but-” He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I didn't hesitate…I just hadn't killed the wanderer yet.” He looks away and clears his throat before slightly glancing back at you, “Did you…see anything else?”

“I did but…we'll talk about it later. It doesn't seem appropriate right now.” You say before you sneeze and wrap your arms around your waist. You hear a familiar hiss and you turn to look in the direction of the noise. “Oh, the baby is back.” Your face looks brighter compared to a few seconds ago. This time, the kitty lets you pick him up. “You are such a cutie.” You rub your face against his fur before kissing him on the head. You can hear Rafayel scoff beside you and grumble under his breath, “I can't believe I'm jealous of such a vile creature.”

“What was that?” You ask, turning your head to look at him. Your cheek still pressing against the kitty's soft fur.

“Nothing.” He clears his throat. “Thomas should be here momentarily with a boat and then we can finally go home. Are you going to take that creature with you? You shouldn't show it affection if you're just going to leave it behind and forget about it.”

You let out a heavy sigh. You know exactly what Rafayel means when he says that, even if he assumes you don't. He's putting himself in the cat's shoes- um, paws.

“Raf…” You press your lips together and pat his shoulder as you stand up so he can't see your face. “I'm not going to leave you.” Your hand squeezes his shoulder as you hold the cat to your chest. “I'm taking him with me..maybe my neighbor will want him and I'll still be able to see him all the time so…I won't forget about him either.”

Rafayel makes a noise in the back of his throat. You're not sure if it's from surprise or if he was overwhelmed with emotions, but he stands up and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Just let me…stay like this for a minute, yeah?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, this was the closest you've been to any of the male characters- to your friends, you could say. You take a deep breath before nodding, “Take as long as you need, I'm not going anywhere.” Rafayel's grip around your waist tightens and the two of you stay like that until the spotlight from the nearing boat lights both of you up, and Thomas brings you both back to the mainland.

---------------------------------------------------

You know, I just realized that I said I would update every weekend buuuttt I never said how many times I would update 😎 Twice. Probably twice. I feel bad since most chapters, until later on, will be 2-3k words so posting two chapters gives yall at least 6k to read and that makes me feel better. Anyways, hope you enjoy and be prepared we're getting closer and closer to Sylus!

[venomous-qwille]

Hi Qwille! I have to ask, where and how do you organize your notes for GITM? The calendar with the sticky notes? That’s so cool and I’d love to use something like that for my own fic timeline (not a DCA fic, but timelines are tough regardless and I’ve attempted to use several different apps to try and organize them but it only goes so far before it falls back into chaos).

Also, do you have any advice for long term plotting? What helps you not run out of steam? I really admire how you manage to juggle so many unique characters! (And Fool remains my favorite!)

Hope you’re having a good day/night/time zone! <3

Hiya! I organize everything in a very very large miro board, miro is a free online infinite whiteboard. The timeline/calendars are a relatively new addition to my GITM miro, mostly its taken up by beat by beat story planning. One of my fav things to do is slap down tiny post it notes of scene ideas, they can be random things or stuff i think is cool/cute, call backs or one liners or symbolic stuff, and I put alllll of these sticky notes in my big sticky note area until i can find them a forever home on the actual act by act plan! It really helps me cause otherwise i would absolutely forget some of that stuff!

Making characters is my passion, its literally my job and my hobby, so the whole story is focused around the ensemble cast and their backstories cause thats the stuff im interested in. Focusing on that and leaning into my hyperfixation really helps keep the momentum going! I think, having characters and future scenes im really looking forwards to helps a looot

[lifeafterpsychiatry]

(tw for alcohol use, feel free to ignore if it might be a trigger for you)

I think I might have an alcohol problem. I don't drink daily, but usually 2-3 times a week and it's heavy enough to make me stumble a little most of the time. I can never just have one drink. It was once just for fun but now it's also helping me cope with shit going on in my day to day life, and to pop open a few beverages at the end of a long day is something I look forward to immensely, so much so that I find myself drinking more than I originally intended, or I'll have some days with repeated thoughts of just popping open a cold one and getting very drunk. I'm trying to limit my consumption so I don't become an alcoholic, but it's hard when life is cruel and alcohol makes me feel so light and carefree. I don't know what to do, and I'm not asking for advice so much as a listening ear. I have a family history of substance abuse on both sides and I'm kinda scared right now. But when I can drink at the end of the day I feel like for a while everything's good and I love that respite in my life, when I don't have to deal with all the shit people throw at me. I wish I at least had a friend to drink with and socialize, but Im always drinking alone in the middle of the night and hoping to feel floaty and numb. It's hard to deal with. I'm going to hold out hope for the future though and know that life will go on. Trying to remember that I'll get out of this (and the sooner the better so I don't become dependent, if I'll listen to my own conscience) fortunately it hasn't impacted my life (yet) other than just spending a little too much on drinks or drinking one more than I should.

Sorry for the long ramble but thanks for reading if you have <3

I struggle with addiction myself (though not to alcohol) and here's a couple things I've learned along the way:

Even considering that you might be an addict is a really important and hard first step to take. I'm proud of you!

Addiction isn't limited to having a physical dependency which requires daily upkeep. There is also the concept of psychological addiction, which is more about how and why you engage with a certain substance than whether you're physically dependent on it yet. And refusing to face the question of addiction because you don't drink/do drugs daily will only escalate the issue.

It's easy to end up thinking that if you could just learn to drink/do drugs in a less unhealthy way, you can keep drinking/doing drugs. But once you've started using a substance as a coping method, it is very hard and often impossible to successfully go back to only using it recreationally.

Addiction is a coping method in most cases. This means that your challenge isn't just to drink less, it's to figure out why you're drinking and how to face and resolve the underlying issues that alchohol currently helps you cope with. It usally isn't as simple as just not drinking anymore when you aren't drinking for fun.

Addiction isn't a moral failure and it doesn't reflect badly on you as a person. It's a coping method that you have a genetic predisposition towards, not a sign that you're an unusually bad, weak, immoral person. And regardless of whether you're in active addiction, trying to recover or managing sobriety, your value and worth as a person is the same.

[shotanzz]

RIIZE ENERGY CHECK ~ based on tarot

reminder this is based off of my interpretations of the energy and cards I receive and is not exact fact unless said so by the members themselves; energy is subject to change or manifest differently so my reading may differ from others

Note : The members are allowing me to do this reading (AoW, 6oW) they’re also willing to not be anonymous because they aren’t really sharing anything too crazy or private (The Sun)

Shotaro

He needs rest and to have a vacation in all honestly. He’s been very responsible and working very hard lately and it might be taking a toll on him to a degree. (8oP, 7oW, Strength Rx, 4oS) I don’t think the company is necessarily pushing him but he feels a need to push and is becoming a bit of a workaholic and is surprisingly optimistic since all of the hard work is leading to success (10oW, KNoS, AoP, 6oW). He should rest though, he might be unconvinced that he’ll get burnt out but it’s still possibly that he could (4oP), he must find balance (2oP)

Eunseok

In the past he went through a period of time where he had feelings of inadequacy and insecurity in regards to his place in the group and uncertainty about his future as an idol. (2oW, The Star Rx, 9oW, 2oS) However recently he feels way more secure and hopeful and even excited for what the future holds due to current success, he’s also hinting towards their 6 time showcase wins motivating him. (9oP, 6oW, The World) He also wants to be more open and to befriend and work with more people as well be more giving with his availability and positive side (3oP, 6oP)

Sungchan

There’s something he’s currently looking forward to and he’s finally making action towards it or acting on the project at hand after a time of having to sort and pick through options and ideas (3oW, KNoW, 7oC). Someone older or more experienced than him/he seeks guidance from is aiding him with what he’s currently looking forward to and setting action on (The Heirophant) however he still has autonomy and creative control over it (The Magician). Im not sure if what he’s looking forward to is music related, it seems that it’s aimed towards the members/briize. I keep hearing the phrase “그것은 비밀“ which means “it’s a secret” in a playful tone 😭 his energy is very goofy here as well.

Wonbin

I’m ngl Wonbin might have schedules or is preoccupied mentally because the cards for him essentially fell out in a heartbeat as if he was in a rush but he still got his point out regardless. Ngl, he’s tired/bored of the “cold” persona SM pushes him to do and everyday wants to scrap it completely more and more (The Sun Rx, The moon, 4oC, 9oC Rx) especially because he knows fans really do like the authentic him, his “truth” (AoS, PoC) . Also Wonbin genuinely appreciates the briize fandom and he is aware he might be seen as shallow but his appreciation is genuine.

Seunghan

My room suddenly felt quiet and the air/energy got very calm and still. He’s currently in a state of building things back up, basically cleaning up and rebuilding after the mess he endured a couple months back (The Tower, 6oS, 8oC, Temperance). There’s people in his circle aiding him fem and masc energies (QoC, KoC, KoS). He’s moving forward into a new era/chapter of his life that will help him evolve and find success/comfortability again (Death, The Empress)

Sohee

He’s been hanging out and spending a lot of time with some friends from within the industry on his downtime (3oC, PoW, PoS) I’m pretty sure the Page of Wands and Page of Swords represent BND Jaehyun (Sag) and ZB1 Hanbin (Gemini). He may have been closer to them and see them as more of friends than coworkers. He might be a bit closer to Jaehyun tho. He’s satisfied with work and the financial gains he’s been getting from it (AoP)

Anton

He feels more comfortable with himself and has been more in touch with his masculine side and confidence. (Strength, The Chariot, AoW) . He currently misses his younger brother and family which is pretty obvious with the cards. (3oS, 6oC, 10oP) but he knows he can cope and will be able to see them again soon, there may be a holiday or event coming up where he can see them all (7oP, 4oW, 10oC) He also might be fighting for a bit more creative/musical control in the group, he may want to compose or have a bit more suggestion towards the groups upcoming music (5oW)

[causeimcrayzeebee]

What direction do you see Hasegawa's character going in moving forward?

ooo this is a good one! honestly, i have some thoughts but none of them are like a solid idea; regardless it’s fun to think about— spoilers below!

one of the main reasons i had previously speculated that if any of hasemura were to die (it would have to be kamimura) goes back to what had been established about sasaki: kamimura was pretty much all hasegawa has in the kg. if hasegawa died first, kamimura would still have support with hayashi, with tamba. hasegawa, like what was talked about in Kitsunes Intuition, has basically no one. Obviously, the others wouldn’t abandon him, but he wouldn’t have that tight knit relationship he had with kamimura.

so if anything, hasegawa is absolutely going to break in some way. the death of the possible love of his life, on top of him running out of Paxil, had got to have taken a huge toll on him. if he doesn’t have a breakdown during the trial, it will happen afterwards. now, the kind of breakdown he would have will prolly depend, and i can’t make a good guess as to how, but he’s going to need a lot of support. what will determine future chapters is if he gets that support, which it could be from ojima (if he makes it through the trial) but with hiroaki’s deteriorating mental health, as well as everyone else’s and his own, it’s gonna be super hard to keep everyone together. I think this next chapter is going to be super difficult to find a sense of normalcy and comfort; major losses have just happened and not to mention if both Okazaki n wada survive this the kind of tension that will occur.

i have no idea what the rest of his time will look like moving forward, and all I can hope for is the best. im pretty excited to see what is done :)

[ihaveforgortoomany]

For Peace of Mankind: analysis of the nature of Foundation and its similarities to Manus Vindicate

It doesn't take long for us to realise the morally grey nature of the Foundation and the scope of power it has. Arguably the aims of the Foundation place it no better than Manus Vindicate in their goals as the future and "peace" they champion is founded on ideas around limitation and control.

(This is an essay just exploring how the Foundation does have alot in common with the Manus)

The Foundation

Its interesting how early on the game establishes Vertin's independence to the actions of the Foundation, seeking out Regulus and attempting to help her against the wishes of the Foundation knowing that if Regulus had been dragged by Sonetto to be registered she would have likely been taken by the Storm.

Tbh we can be here all day listing the problems of the Foundation (experiments on children and the manipulation of a 12 year old, constant pressure on arcanists to register, everything about Laplace as an institution especially with the Mesmers, Zeno with Rayaskhi and why is Lilya already a functioning alcoholic at 14) but here I'm placing emphasis on the aim of the Foundation.

Sure they at least aim to stop the Storm (Marcus in Chapter 6 "at least the Foundation are trying to stop it but you're speeding it up") but in terms of relations between humans and arcanists, the goal seems less pure.

Chapter 6 establishes that humans do not benefit in anyway from the continuing Storm, the Foundation is an organisation primarily run by humans and yes there are both humans and arcanists in the Foundation that seek to work together to end the Storm - it seems more like returning to a previous status quo in 1999 than improving and moving forward to the future.

Thematically and narratively the Foundation is dogmatic, the "born to die martyrs" line doesn't paint a positive image of the Foundation. The institution of the SPDM seems to aim to control the future of arcanism in children, where censorship and suppression with knowledge is commonplace. The idea of the "rational" human and "emotional" arcanist is continuously hammered down by the Foundation and Laplace.

(Im not equipped at all to talk about mental health but it is questionable how the Foundation/ Laplace deal with it, Vertin's induce coma used as a political manoeuvre to isolate suitcase fam under the pretence of "extreme trauma" (yes there is an orchard of trauma but the timing is suspicious) and the whole story of Scot Mesmer in Three Doors)

The Manus

We already know there is a chess motif in the designs of the Foundation, the checkered designs on clothing and Constantine's need to one up a child in a game of chess.

The colours of both fractions are presented as opposing but more interesting is how the normal foot soldiers of both sides wear headgear that obscures the eyes (the Foundation staff headpiece thing and the Manus mask).

This can be interpreted as how neither fraction as a whole look to the future or moving forward but instead to a ideal period of time: the Manus the "garden that doesn't exist" and the Foundation "peace of mankind" or to whatever the status quo was in 1999. They are two sides of the same board.

Am I saying Vertin might break away from the Foundation eventually? No I don't think so, both are aligned in goals to stop the Storm. However thematically and narratively its fascinating how the Foundation has been set up as a complex institution we do not wholly trust but regardless root for in the game.

[tenjikyu]

𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 - 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ SPOILERS FOR KANTO MANJI ARC , no shipping, just a lyric fic explaining how everyone involved is gonna save mikey ( including you !! ) , reader is baji’s gn! twin ( relevant to the plot ) , i was listening to the soundtrack and had this literally play out in my head as the song went, so i hope i do it justice .

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ A/N : im actually so excited about this OMG.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ IMPORTANT EXTRA NOTES :

manjiro’s lyric lines - purple .

senju’s lyric lines - red .

chifuyu’s lyric lines - blue .

your lyric lines - pink .

takemichi’s lyric lines - green .

irrelevant/background lyric lines - white .

♬ any moment now , your highness .

mikey looks around the “ arena ” that the battle was going to take place in. a speck of wonder crosses the blondes mind.

what was takemichi thinking? why had he returned from the future?

regardless, the sounds of footsteps began to ring through his ears.

♬ be lieve me i know , i’ve suck pretty low .

♬ but whatever i’ve done , you deserved .

♬ ( varien ! )

♬ ( quiet ! )

his mind hazes with uncertainty. manjiro’s body shakes ever so slightly.

no matter what, he must not falter.

he warned them all, to steer clear of his everlasting karma.

alas, they block his desperates pleas out.

♬ i’m the bad guy , that’s fine .

♬ it’s no fault of mine and some justice at last will be served .

♬ ( please listen )

manjiro knows deep down that no matter how hard the beg of him, he can’t return to his original character. things change you in ways you can’t truly comprehend until you’ve lived it yourself.

he wishes for more then anything to run into anyone’s arms.

anyone in toman’s arms would do.

his brothers arms would do. his sisters arms would suffice.

baji’s arms even.

♬ now it’s time to step up or it’s time to stand down .

♬ and there’s only one answer for me .

alas, the blond lifts his head a little higher. after all, doubt gets you nowhere.

he can only look forward, otherwise everyone left alive is at stake.

♬ and i’ll stand up and fight ‘cause i know that i’m right .

♬ and i’m ready , i’m ready , i’m ready .

the tokyo manji flag can be ever so slightly seen with the numerous yet limited footsteps loom closer.

danger is sensed in manjiro’s head.

he can feel it, touch it, caress it all he wants.

but danger halts for nobody.

♬ ready as i’ll ever be .

♬ now it’s time to rise up or it’s time to stand down .

♬ and the answer is easy to see .

only a few hours prior, with all of the next generation of the tokyo manji gang members present, senju stands tall with both you and takemichi by her side.

she knows the blonde will not put up an easy fight, and with so strong yet so little people against their godly force, high morale is a little difficult to seep through everybody.

♬ and i swear by the sword , if you’re in get on board .

♬ are you ready ?

♬ i’m ready ! we’re ready ! ( we’re ready )

senju feels no doubt in her heart that no matter the fear amongst the original members, that they will prevail for the sake of their beloved old leader.

they will pull through for manjiro sano.

♬ ready as i’ll ever be .

♬ are you quite sure we can do this ?

chifuyu leans gently into your side as to lower his voice.

he knows how deeply you treasure mikey.

with how close baji and mikey were, not to mention sanzu also against them, it would be hard for you to fight against someone you considered family .

alas, you only smiles gently at his concern.

♬ together , we will guarantee .

“i’ll be okay, chifuyu. i appreciate your concern.” you reassure him.

you weren’t lying when you said that you appreciated his worries, however you weren’t sure if you would truly be able to land a hit on mikey.

the boy was there for you through thick and thin. with you comforting him through his brothers passing and him returning the favour with your twin brothers death, you felt your heart ache ever so harshly.

regardless, you had to persevere. for mikey’s sake, and for your friends sake.

♬ i’ll make them hear me (now it’s time to redeem or it’s time to resolve )

with manjiro sano , harychiyo sanzu and kokonoi hajime standing in front of the three of you, you felt your body shudder at the blondes glare that was directed at you.

♬ prove they can trust me ( and the outcome will hardly come free )

senju grasps your hand lightly, her own brother staring her down like she’s worthless. nothing but a setback in his eyes.

you smiled back at her before you both proudly stood next to takemichi. she had always been your #1 supporter, regardless of history.

♬ i’ll save my home and family .

with all the courage you could muster, you stared back into mikey’s soulless sockets. nothing but heartbreak and fear filled his sorrowful expression.

you knew in that moment, that you needed to rescue your brother.

you had already lost one, you couldn’t afford to loose another.

♬ now the line’s in the sand and our moments at hand .

♬ and i’m ready .

♬ i’m ready .

♬ i’m ready .

with a pool of silence overtaking the battlefield, manjiro sano turns to takemichi hanagaki for the signal.

the signal that a battle was about to commence.

♬ ready as i’ll ever be .

[nahalism]

It absolutely does make sense and i can’t thank you enough for taking the time to answer this thoroughly. Can i also ask you, how do you deal with the other type of longing? The one for people who you actually did have a connection with and situations that weren’t completely based on a fantasy of what a bond with them could feel/look like because you actually did experience it. Some people seem to (or maybe really are?) capable to just get over and move on from people they claimed to love and sometimes i wish i could do it this way as well. The other option brings so much pain sometimes. For me it never really goes away, it’s like a part of me is always open for them, the involuntary thoughts and feelings, wishes for them to come back, waits. Even if i try tricking myself otherwise, i know deep down that’s how i feel.

🖤

your absolutely welcome <3. & of course. tbh its complicated and cyclical. there are times i cope well and other times where i get in my feelings over things. whether it be romantic, platonic, or familial, i get through the ups and downs by continuing to love and by understanding the nature of what love really is (at least how i define it). in my heart i feel that love is unconditional and fundamentally unchanging, so i continue to give it regardless of if its noticed, understood, appreciated or reciprocated. sometimes i give it from a far. for example there are people ive chosen to no longer be in relationship with but that i still love. so i send them love when they cross my mind and imagine how things could have been had they been here (with fondness, not remorse). i let out a laugh to myself or a smile to myself & i pray for their wellbeing and their joy. i wish them and their loved ones prosperity, peace, fullness of life (basically all the things id have wished for them had they still been at my side) & then i turn back to the present moment and show my gratitude for this experience of life by not wasting it, by not pining for imagined futures, but by doing what i enjoy or embodying the experience before me in this moment.

i hate that that description makes it sound easy to manage because even though it gets easier it certainly isnt easy. there are definitely times when my sorrow for how things turned out clouds my mind and emotions. when things get conflicting, they get painful, & in those moments i tend to fall into anger, or resentment. because im the type to take my pain out on my self, i also fall into self doubt and blame. i question my judgement. how could i have loved someone who hurt or betrayed me? why didnt i see or acknowledge the warning signs? or i can feel embittered by outcomes and look for ways i could have been better that would have changed the way things turned out. i also tend to question if the love they had for me could have been real (because i struggle to understand why if theres truly love there cant be resolution). that can also lead to this sense of injustice. like why couldn't things have gone '...' way. — what ive found is that that path leads to time wasted and its usually tied to my sense of identity in relation to the situation rather than the truth of what i feel. the truth of what i feel is that love is unconditional. things can break your expectations, even your ego, but they cannot break your heart. ultimately if i didnt still love them i wouldnt feel that pain. so i try to embrace my sensitivity rather than reject it. its a bit woowoo but i believe in a world beyond the physical. i believe that we all share the same source and the same end, so are all separate fragments of one whole. maybe the physical experience complicated and confuses things. we fall out of understanding and cohesion with eachother. but i trust we will return to one another again, and so even if its not in this life, i look forward to being reunited with them and laughing about things we couldnt figure out due to ignorance in the end.

as for other people. i try not to understand their motivations. after all, they are entitled to live in the way that works for them and who am i to judge how they live or decide to move on with their lives. people do things for all kinds of reasons. maybe to distract themselves, to compensate for what they dont want to acknowledge, etc etc. but usually that line of thought just makes us feel vindicated in our own stance and beliefs, yet shows a lack of true comprehension for the other person. we are all different so its really just them dealing in their own way. whether you think its right or wrong, theyre usually just doing what they want to do simply because they want to do it. maybe they never loved the other person at all, or maybe they did but still want to move on and fuck on someone else? it literally doesnt matter. so yeah; i try not to vilify those who dont see the world as i do or assume that there is something wrong with them and how they do things. i do however, acknowledge that society perpetuates this move on narrative and makes people who dont move on, or move like their out of love before they are, feel lame. the key here is to understand yourself and be at peace with why you do what you do. if you want to wait to be over someone before you move on, you should take pride in your choice to do so. be you! be sovereign! love and live with integrity so that you can live and die by the consequences of your actions knowing that they are your actions. there is strength in character. <3 you got this

[honeyxmooncalves]

I don’t know if this is true, and I don’t want to spread misinformation, but I watched a video saying that Hogwarts Legacy 2 will include all of our favourite characters and be set in the 1800’s like the original game. So it will just be a sequel to the game we’ve all played which I assume is what a lot of the fandom want. Regarding the HBO series, the video said that future Harry Potter games would most likely follow that story. AGAIN, I’m not sure if any of this is true and can’t remember which video on YouTube I watched 🙈

Thank you for telling me, even if it’s fake it has brought me some comfort x i RLLy hope its real tho 💗

Also with my previous post on this topic, i don’t mean to offend anyone, ur opinions are totally valid - also im sure whatever avalanche decides to make will be phenomenal considering how well made hl1 was and i’ll look forward to it regardless, im just far too emotionally attached to the characters we already know and love

[larkspyrr]

chapter viii — deeper than the truth (wc. 4.1k)

prev — masterlist / ao3 — next

reblogs are appreciated!

NOTE: i made some changes to the last chapter bc im fickle and didn't like it lmfao. you can either reread for the new context or check the tldr i posted on ao3

You had been right about one thing — Wriothesley was not a stupid man.

He was not unaware of himself. It was this self-awareness that had been key to Wriothesley's ascent from the very bottom to the slightly-less-so — to making the most of his station, regardless of whatever Celestia-forsaken obstacles had been thrown into his path. That, and his dogged determination to get there, at any cost, even if he had to fight tooth and nail.

And, by the Archons, he was going to fight now.

He understood precisely what it was that propelled him forward as he rose to the overworld the morning after you left, fast enough that one might think the Abyss itself nipped at his ankles like an angry hound, snarling, snapping. He’d known for a while the name of the beast that curled around his ribs and squeezed , even if he hadn’t been brave enough to yet speak it aloud. He was afraid that to utter it would be to invite it in closer, ever closer, leaving no room in his chest even for breath, for the frantic thundering of his heart. No room for the inevitable break once your arrangement came to its conclusion and you went on toward your future and Wriothesley stayed exactly where he had been all along, fractured but trying to mend.

Maybe he should have named it. Maybe then you wouldn’t have walked away.

He’d known there was nothing more for him to do when you left; that to follow you out would only push you away further. So he had stayed, and plotted out the next course of action he would take, so long as he was able to bide his time until the morning—if what he'd gathered from vague correspondences in Paquette's office was correct.

Paquette was clever, that much could be said. He'd covered his tracks with an almost masterful finesse and it had been a challenge to glean so much as a date from what seemed like mostly mundane communications with Thibeault.

He was good, sure. But Wriothesley was better.

After you’d left, Wriothesley had waited, sleepless, and then allowed himself no more than the time required to dress and make the Fortress’ arrangements for the day before he fled his quarters, not even sparing the bronze doors to his office a passing thought as he blew by.

Wriothesley had never been one to stand down from a challenge, not even those who crash-landed into his life bedecked in pearls and lace and more spirit than he knew what to do with; witty, and kind, and dutiful to a fault; a fallen meteorite from somewhere else, somewhere more.

And Wriothesley would sooner dive into the Primordial Sea and become no more than a ripple in cold waters than let you march to your death. Before he allowed you to throw away your life for the sake of the people you cared about.

Before he let you go.

So he ran, and the hounds howled in his wake.

When he arrived at the stables, half-wild, muscles screaming, his heart nearly stopped its thrumming at the same moment his purposeful strides came to a halt. The sun hadn't even fully risen.

Lucy’s stall was already empty, neither the mare nor her rider anywhere to be seen.

“So she’s accepted the job?” asked Thibeault, bony fingers curling delicately around the handle of the fine china teacup he held — an imported piece from Liyue, hand-painted, and worth more than most of the working class in the Court of Fontaine would see in a year. Thibeault’s mouth was as straight a line as it ever was, but his eyes glittered with something that looked dangerously akin to delight.

As close to delight as a miserable bastard like Thibeault could achieve, as it were.

Paquette, by contrast, smiled; a luxury he didn’t often allow himself, as frugal and dignified a man as he was, but he postulated he could spare himself a moment of frivolity on the eve of his triumph without too great an impact on the perception of his unblemished decorum. A smile would not be remiss, not amidst the host of more secular pleasures he wreathed his lifestyle in; though if you asked Paquette, and you should, they were simply par for the course for a man of his rank, so long as his taste remained staunchly on the side of ‘classy’ and gave a wide berth to the realm of ‘gaudy’, a feat he was loathe to say still escaped some of the peerage—present company very much withstanding, he noted, observing the garish hue of magenta in the tie his companion donned, not an ounce of shame in sight.

Dreadful.

Paquette tutted quietly, sipping his own tea. A custom blend, catered to his very specific needs and preferences. He swallowed thickly. He’d send this one back, as he had the others.

They still hadn’t gotten it right. Clearly, they hadn’t heeded his generous advice that the best mint was grown on Kannazuka Island.

“But of course she did,” Paquette said, placing his cup down on the tea table between the gentlemen. “As I told you she would, my friend.”

Paquette fought back a sneer at the word on his mouth; a cheap lie, but one he had to maintain if he wanted to remain on good terms with the sniveling man across him. They didn’t need to like each other, per se, in order to work together toward a common goal, but he supposed their machinations were easier to architect if there was some degree of civility between them. It would make it much easier to coexist while they awaited their vision coming to fruition.

A vision so very in reach now. Paquette looked quite forward to the privilege of dispensing with the pleasantries and he imagined Thibeault felt much the same.

While Paquette had certainly become adept at maneuvering around the other members of the court over the decades, he certainly hadn’t grown to like it any more than he had at the start. Especially that old bat Vellerot, a man (loosely called) made of little more than wealth and rot.

All in good time.

Thibeault leaned back in his chair, folding two withered hands in front of his stomach, a self-satisfied gesture that might have been reminiscent of a well-fed house cat if he weren’t so serpentine. His lips curled, teeth bared, and Paquette started; it was a gesture far too vicious to ever be considered a proper smile, though it was an effort nonetheless, even if it was as tasteless as the rest of him. “Once she’s little more than a smear in the woods, the rest will become much simpler,” he mused, drumming his fingers against his abdomen, a rhythmic tap-tap-tap that made Paquette wonder if it was an unconscious gesture. An appalling lack of composure. “The old man hasn’t paid attention to the world beyond his cups in nigh on a decade, and the two younger ones haven’t got the intelligence nor the fortitude to accomplish anything at all. She would be the problem. One terrible accident and she’s gone. Then the old man drowns in his cups from ‘grief', at least as far as anyone is concerned.”

Paquette hummed. “It also takes that delinquent whelp out of the equation, what with all the sniffing around he’s been doing. He will be utterly shattered at the loss of his love, I’m sure. Might do something reckless.”

“I still can’t believe our luck on that front,” said Thibeault. “Two birds, one stone, as the commoners are known to say.”

“Tale as old as time,” agreed Paquette.

Thibeault grimaced again in that way which was so unlike a smile. Paquette fought against his every instinct telling him to pull back from the frankly upsetting expression.

“The Viscountcy has been wasted on him for far too long,” said Thibeault, and he sipped his tea.

Neuvillette stood at the edge of the bridge, his hands folded primly behind his back, chin tilted towards the rolling sea.

Wriothesley heaved a breath as he approached and the man turned his face towards him.

“Neuvillette.”

“Wriothesley,” said the other man, eyebrows rising ever-so-faintly in surprise and interest. “I wasn’t expecting you. You look flushed.”

“Went for a run,” Wriothesley panted. “Can I have a word?”

Something flickered in his eyes, but Neuvillette merely gestured his chin towards the Opera without a moment’s hesitation and made his way towards the structure. Wriothesley fell into step behind him easily, fighting every cell of his being that was telling him to rush the other man, to urge him to walk faster, Archons damn it all.

He bit his tongue, yet it seemed Neuvillette sensed Wriothesley’s urgency and picked up his pace nonetheless.

Finally, after an eternity and then some, they settled into Neuvillette’s office at the Epiclese; a smaller rendition of his office at the Palais, though no less elegant and organized. It was a bright space, walled in books and ornate masonry, bathed in the light that sparkled off the water just beyond the stained glass windows. It smelled like the sea and romaritimes; a light fragrance that Wriothesley had come to associate with the Iudex over many years of knowing him.

Neuvillette looked over at him from behind his desk, his face kind but eerily calm, a direct juxtaposition to Wriothesley’s own storming, blazing heart.

Wriothesley inhaled. Exhaled. “I’m sorry to impose but this is an emergency.”

“It’s no imposition,” Neuvillette said. “I am at your disposal.”

Wriothesley held the other man’s gaze. “Which Melusine Marechaussee Phantoms are off-duty today?”

You clicked your tongue and pulled, bringing Lucy to a halt just before the clearing Paquette had described came into view. You dismounted her, quickly hitching her to a nearby tree, tucked safely behind a dense thicket. She looked at you, ears pitched forward, eyes restless. You moved to pat her gently on the nose, but she tossed her head away from your touch. You frowned, letting your hand drop back to your side.

The last time she had rebuffed you like that, there had been a hilichurl hiding in a nearby tree.

You would be on your guard. This time, you had the element of surprise on your side.

You tried again, satisfied when Lucy allowed your pat this time, and moved onward alone. The sun was high in the sky, casting the upcoming smattering of tents a warm golden hue as they slowly came into view, a collection of brightly-colored headstones in an otherwise silent graveyard.

Immediately, you missed the rhythmic beat of Lucy’s hooves on the dirt as you entered the soundless clearing. Even the wind, forever a comfort at your back, seemed to hold its breath.

It was empty.

You surveyed the camp with careful eyes. Five tents, hastily constructed, flaps lowered to conceal the interiors of all but one — large, royal purple, dead-center. A table sat in view from within. A fire pit, lush with kindling and several freshly cut logs, though it appeared to never have been lit. A hitching post, though there wasn't a horse in sight. A weapons rack, battered but vacant.

You continued to inspect the area with growing unease.

But then, you saw it. In the purple tent, on the wide table. A folder.

The documents.

Emboldened by the silence of the deserted camp, you moved in.

You did not make it far.

You heard a twig snap from somewhere to your right, and you whirled, your heart leaping into your throat. Leaves rustled from all around, every corner of the clearing, and you heard the sharp crack of a slap, followed by hooves — Lucy’s hooves — barreling away into the wilderness, away and away, until you couldn’t hear her at all anymore.

Slowly, one by one, as though they were visions from a nightmare, men emerged from within the dense brush, cloaked in shadow, smiles jagged and cutting on the faces whose mouths weren’t clothed.

Your thoughts came to you rapid-fire, like bullets firing from a pistol.

An ambush.

They had known you were coming.

This was a trap.

Wriothesley had been right.

Your limbs shook. Your mind went foggy. Your fear was streaked with shafts of other emotions—regret, shame, resentment. Longing.

You shook your head to clear the haze, clenching your jaw, flexing your fists.

You didn’t have time to regret; you didn’t have time to wish.

You would get out of here. You had no other choice.

You had to get back to him.

But you were alone. They had known you were coming. Lucy had been scared off. No one was coming.

You were alone.

They began advancing.

Blades with wicked edges glinted in the afternoon sun as they emerged from the shade of the trees. You clutched at the hilt of your sword, savoring the tiny fraction of power you reclaimed at the feeling of the warm leather against your shaking fingers. Fingers that you found were getting increasingly difficult to control.

You fought to master your breath.

One man stepped ahead of the others, brandishing a razor-sharp rapier in your direction, your eyes following the way it swayed in his loose, unworried grip, light and free as wild barley. His eyes gleamed with profane delight from over the cloth secured around the lower half of his face. You didn’t need to see his mouth to know he was smiling.

“Right on time, my lady,” he sneered, voice reedy and meandering. You had never hated the honorific more. Several of the others snickered. “We’ve been expecting you.”

You met his gaze, willing yourself to maintain your composure as you assessed the situation—two, three, four Treasure Hoarders stood in the clearing with you. They didn’t appear to have any horses themselves; at least, not any that were nearby, so hijacking one to make a swift escape was not an option. It seemed all four men carried various swords; not a bow nor arrow in sight, but that could only help you, as you wouldn’t need to concern yourself with avoiding or deflecting ranged attacks while focusing on the close-quarters combat. On defending yourself from their blows. Looking for an opening to make an exit.

You unsheathed your sword, the metal hissing against the scabbard. You widened your stance, rolling your shoulders, willing your breathing to a slow, controlled pace.

Dozens of lessons swam through your mind and you fought to sort through your learning.

So many lessons. So little to show for it.

Wriothesley’s voice floated to the forefront, a memory as sharp and piercing as ice.

Don’t overthink it, he’d told you, over and over, lesson after lesson.

Muscle memory and instinct are your greatest ally.

Trust yourself.

You tensed, ready to trust yourself, to trust him , even if it was too late, to at least try —

Something slammed into your arm and side and you gasped, your sword clattering away across the rocks and into the thicket. Gone.

“Ah, ah, ah. I don’t think so,” sing-songed a new voice.

A low, feminine laugh warbled from over your shoulder and the four men echoed, reveled in the cruel mockery of it. You felt as though all the blood drained from your body. The edges of your vision darkened in panic, further blurring the tangle where your sword now lay, hidden. Out of reach.

Five. There had been five tents.

The woman slowly made her way around you, inching into your line of sight excruciatingly slowly, playfully, circling around you like a vulture circles its prey before it dives. Her eyes glittered, impish and hostile. She held an enormous claymore in her hands.

She opened her mouth to speak.

Don’t overthink. Trust yourself.

You lunged before she could utter a word.

Wriothesley hurried, urging the mare forward, faster, faster.

The Melusine in front of him froze, going stock still in her place on the saddle. Her shaggy, dusty rose hair whipped in the wind and she placed a tiny hand on Wriothesley’s wrist, drawing his attention to her.

There was another horse barreling through the woods, not far ahead. Chestnut, with an auburn coat. A familiar leather saddle.

A saddle which was empty.

Wriothesley wasn’t sure he remembered how to breathe. He pressed into the stirrups, signaling his mare to stop.

Lucy, in the distance, slowed her gallop, noticing the new arrivals; darted directly to them.

Trow frowned as the chestnut mare came to a sliding stop a mere few feet away, tossing her head and stomping, hoof to hoof, more agitated than Wriothesley had ever seen her. He hopped off the mare and went to her, checking her over for injuries or any sign of her rider. She seemed fine, if stressed. Nothing on her to indicate what might have happened to cause her separation from you.

“Your Grace,” Trow said abruptly, blue nose wrinkling. Her eyes flicked away from Lucy and towards the denser forest ahead, narrowing in concentration. “I smell something… just over there. Sweet, but bad. Like gasoline.”

Wriothesley’s stomach flipped. He looked ahead at the thicket, but beyond it was utterly silent. Unmoving. He could vaguely make out the trampled shrubbery from where Lucy had emerged. His hand felt heavier than stone against the side of Lucy’s quivering neck.

He flexed his fingers against her, scratching lightly. For her, for him.

“Wanna help me save our friend, Luce?” he asked softly.

Lucy, of course, said not a word; but whether or not she understood what Wriothesley was asking, her gentle brown eyes seemed to agree with the sentiment.

Wriothesley turned his gaze back to Trow.

“Can you ride?” he asked.

She hesitated before nodding shallowly. “I can get by, sir.”

“Go back,” Wriothesley said. “Notify Neuvillette of what’s happened and where we are. I will take it from here.”

Trow's look was long and searching and for a moment Wriothesley wondered whether she would protest his order. But then her worried lilac eyes softened and she nodded once more. Her tail flicked behind her. “Be safe, Your Grace.”

Wriothesley took the reins in-hand and quickly mounted Lucy. He gave the Melusine a small smile. “Thank you. You too.”

He didn't even have to signal for Lucy to go before she was off, hurtling back towards the trees.

Back to you.

Falling back on your months of training in the Pankration Ring was easier than breathing; particularly at the moment, when it seemed breathing had suddenly become very difficult.

You acted without thinking.

You shot forward, swiftly sweeping a leg out from beneath the prowling woman, sending her hurtling onto her ass before she could register you had even moved. She made an undignified squawk, throwing her arms out to try and save her fall, the claymore slamming into the ground, fanning dirt out around it.

The others burst into action, trying to ascertain the best way to subdue you, kill you, you didn’t know, it didn’t matter — you didn’t allow them even a second. You dove for the woman’s claymore, unclaimed at her side, your fingers closing soundly around the hilt before spinning to face your attackers, the new weight unfamiliar and unwieldy in your palm. You would adjust. You had no other choice.

The woman had clambered back to her feet, yanking a dagger from her boot with a vicious snarl that raised the hair on the back of your neck. A lock of dark hair had shaken loose from beneath her hood. Her eyes no longer held any trace of the violent glee they’d had a moment ago; searing rage was all that was reflected in them now.

The masked man dove, rapier swinging in a wide arc towards your side; you deflected it with ease, the clang of metal on metal ringing in your ears as the heft of the claymore easily intercepted the strike.

You adjusted your grip, the shift in weight causing your fingers to slide on the hilt.

Another lunged, sword pointed for your gut. You narrowly avoided impact, sidestepping on already unsteady feet and directly into the range of the woman, who was ready to pounce on your moment of imbalance.

Clearly, subduing you wasn’t part of their plans. And you were sorely outmatched.

You weren’t quick enough.

Swift as a viper, she lashed out, bronze dagger flashing in the sun the only warning you received before you felt its bite. She nicked your dominant wrist, loosening your grip on her claymore—your only weapon—

You dropped it, your hand disobeying your order to hold on as blood dripped down your trembling fingers from the wound on your wrist.

You wouldn’t walk away from this, you realized then, as the claymore fell. No level of skill would allow you to overcome this.

Fool. You were a fool. And you were about to die for it.

You scrambled for the claymore once more—

One of the men sent his boot hurtling into your side, throwing you off course and forcing all the air from your body.

You slammed down onto the rocks and curled in on yourself instinctively, defensively, tucking your legs into your chest before pushing yourself away, away from them; from the threat. You fought to catch your breath, but your lungs and throat burned like ice.

Your back hit the base of a wide tree and you could go no farther.

The woman gestured angrily at one of the men, who then yanked the claymore off the ground. She stalked over to your hunched form, eyebrows lowered.

She flipped the dagger in her hand and squatted before you.

“That’s enough,” she cooed, flicking the tip of the blade across the curve of your neck, softer than a kiss. You felt a sting followed by the feeling of—something warm collecting at the base of your throat. “This is pathetic. It's getting hard to watch.”

She swung her unarmed fist then, and the resulting impact on your head set your ears ringing and your vision blurry. You vaguely made out the sensation of...of being tied, restrained, bound at your wrists and ankles.

You thrashed, but you were too late. You could barely move. Your wrists burned as you pulled. Your head pounded. Your legs would not—could not—obey.

“Get the canister,” one of the men ordered, the words hitting your ears as though delayed—you felt like you couldn't keep up with the pounding in your skull. Another man disappeared into one of the tents, reemerging after a moment with an opaque container in hand.

Your nostrils flared at the familiar smell.

Gasoline.

The woman clicked her tongue, looking down on you. She wiped her dagger on a pant leg, smearing your blood onto the fabric. “Disposing of evidence. Those pesky Melusines. You understand.” Her voice was as casual as if she were discussing the weather or the latest play at the Epiclese. “You know, I had planned on killing you first ,” she explained evenly as the man sloshed the liquid from within the dark canister onto you. You gasped and recoiled, the liquid colder than you would have anticipated, overwhelming your senses as it sank into your clothing, onto your skin. The woman leaned forward, gently taking your chin in her hand, forcing you to meet her gaze. She stared at you hard for a few long seconds. “But then you went ahead and pissed me off ,” she hissed, pushing your face away roughly and stepping back, out of the spreading pool of accelerant.

You couldn't suppress the coughs that wracked your body as you continued to inhale the fumes, as you continued to fight. One of the men approached you slowly as all the others retreated, a torch lit and flickering in his hands. The sun was still high in the sky; this flame was not meant to offer warmth or illumination.

It was meant to ignite.

Something in you cracked and fell away as you realized... this was it.

There truly was no way out. There had never been a way out.

You couldn't do any more against them now than when you were a child, quivering and confused and helpless. The faces before you were different, yet you had not changed at all.

Powerless.

You had failed. You’d failed your family. You’d failed yourself. And there would be nothing left to show for all your efforts, for everything that you were or could have been but ash and regret.

You wished you had been able to protect them.

You wished you'd been braver when it truly mattered.

You wished you'd been a little more selfish.

You wished… You wished—

Everything went white and chills wracked your body at the sudden onslaught of freezing air against your wet clothes.

The world erupted into chaos—hail and snow and shards of savage, unforgiving ice. Shouting rose from somewhere in the camp, but you couldn't make out who they had belonged to or what was said.

The blizzard glittered beneath the morning sun. You fought not to squint, to try keep your eyes open in the face of the storm to see—to see—

There he was. Wreathed in the torrent of rime and burning frost.

And finally, you breathed.

a/n: title from 'war of hearts' by ruelle

it goes without saying that the ‘updates on saturday’ plan is no longer going to happen lol. im a STEM girlie and my job is very mentally taxing so i don’t always have the energy leftover to write, no matter how much i want to. and tbh then i end up rushing to get something out on time that i’m just not happy with lol

on that note: like i mentioned above, i was still not satisfied with the last chapter so i made some changes and it shifts the context quite a bit

essentially i had 2 paths in my mind for how this could go angst-wise, chose one, heard a loud WRONG buzzer, and then changed it so it is instead the other lmao

aaanyways my b one of these days i will actually have a work finished before i start publishing it (no i will not)

hope you enjoyed xo