#to convert that towards his reason for fighting
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
offrozenmemoirs · 4 months ago
Text
Thinking about Makoto's desire for intimacy being pushed down by his feelings of not deserving to be loved, how he's slowly coming around to being cared for and learning how to take his pain and sorrow to focus it on protecting others. Thinking about how he sometimes softly touches his party members and catches himself staring at them.
Love thinking about Makoto being a giant cat and affectionately wrapping himself around Maisie or Orchidus or putting his wings and tail around them.
7 notes · View notes
yuyinesque · 9 months ago
Text
WOMANEATER | “𝗒-𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝗁-𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗒…”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
⚘ précis. ≡ you're a therapist in a psyche ward, and your new patient isn't one you're particularly experienced with.
⚘ disclaimers. ≡ yandere!incel & psyche ward!therapist y/n, afab!reader (no fem-aligned prns used), physical violence, compulsive masturbation, hypersexuality, misogyny & women-blaming, usage of “bitch”, mentions of post-traumatic stress disorder (ptsd); obsessive behavior; delusion (secondary erotomania); age regressing; & urine, manipulation (guilt-tripping & gaslighting), mentions of suicide & self harm, implied rape fantasies & perversion.
⚘ category. ≡ nsft headcanons.
⚘ wc. ≡ 781.
𖦥 m.list. oc.list
Tumblr media
🧷 yandere!incel who is a scrub-wearing individual who wears stoic expressions like they’re permanent masks, though at times the said mask tends to falter vastly when he’s around any woman; even fem-presenting figures drives him an inch deeper towards insanity. he’s picked numerous fights with women and only women, even when they’ve done nothing but walked past him. the fights were always prompted by truculence and defense, as for he would disclose evident signs that he was terrified of said woman, completely convinced that they were after him in some sort of ill manner, so he strikes before they even get the chance to blink. because of this, he’s been isolated away from female figures, and only male characters were capable of catering to him, as he was indifferent towards them. well, every male but you, a female.
🧷 yandere!incel who is quite the handful for inexperienced, psyche ward!therapist darling, as for they haven’t dealt with a patient with such a high caliber of disorders; their worst case so far was a suicidal woman who was diagnosed with type one bipolar. one session with the individual was enough to question your overall abilities. i mean, he despised you. at least that’s what you believed.
🧷 yandere!incel who is tired of you cheating on him with other patients! this is why he’s so angry towards you specifically, but he won’t say. however, he’s also completely infatuated with you; have i also mentioned completely horrified with you? you’ve noticed each time you would change your tone slightly, he would convert into a fretful mouse, apologizing incessantly as tears glossed his dark, beady eyes, also slipping up by referring to you as “mother” in a small, infantile voice. you concluded it was because you reminded him of such, and she was primarily the reason why he feared and hated women so much. motherly abuse.
🧷 yandere!incel who would have his calmer days since he was genuinely interested in his spouse. he’s never had a woman so madly in love with him, so it not only fed his ego, but causes his dick to swell with cum each time you evinced signs that confirmed you were oso desperate for his attention. with the way you sit up when you walk in, reassure him that everything will be fine, or even going out of your way to smile in such a lecherous manner. it angered him, especially when he begins groping his hardened crotch in front of you and complaining about you and your whorish antics. you would ignore him in response or threaten to cut the meeting short, which prompts a loud, slur-screaming, victim-blaming outburst in response.
🧷 “you’re such a bitch, you hear me?! a bitch! and a bitch li-like you shouldn’t even be alive! luring me, t-teasing me—all women are just a bunch of fffffucking sluts!!”
🧷 yandere!incel who also showed signs of hypersexuality and exhibitionism. he was a chronic masturbator, pleasuring himself to the most horrific things with your face in mind. just the thought of keeping you in your place by forcing you to perform taboo acts on the receptionist desk as everyone watched rotted his mind.
🧷 yandere!incel who would try to convince you that he doesn’t hate you only to voice his hatred towards you the next week. then he’d not only do that, but then claim that he’s never done such with tears in his eyes, finding your scoldings utterly unnecessary and so mean. there was even a time where you lost your patience and raised your voice at him, immediately causing him to not only an apologetic rant, but to begin pissing himself in the chair he was trembling and sobbing on, the strong scent of ammonia filling the room during the process.
🧷 yandere!incel who needed your touch or he’ll perform said disgraceful acts. there was a day where he pleaded for just a hug from you if he was good the whole week. once you confirmed it, he did just that. no fights, no arguments, nothing. he even apologized for freezing up and screaming at the poor, feminine soul that walked near him. you knew it was against the rules to be this affectionate towards patients, but you couldn’t break a promise. and so, you did—hugged him. awkwardly, even. he was rather short, so his face was buried within your chest, and the boner pressed against your thigh only made you feel nauseous, but not as nauseous as his next, ominous set of words.
🧷 “y-you better hope these h-hands hold mercy on your.. body once i luh-latch them onto you…”
Tumblr media
yuyinesque | translate with permission & peruse without theft
570 notes · View notes
liahaslosthermind · 25 days ago
Text
~ 𝐁𝐞𝐝𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨) ~
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Past Rhysand x OC (Adelaide), Eventual Azriel x OC  Part 9 of Betrayal Oh my god Summary: Azriel’s Mother comes to visit Warnings: Domestic abuse, Azriel’s Father, Unhealthy family dynamics, Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Death of a loved one, Grief, Betrayal
Azriel loved his mother. Even as a boy locked in a darkened cell, the hour he got with her always made him feel like he was the luckiest to call Aisling his mother. The second he got the chance, around 100 years old, he had taken Rhysand and Cassian with him to force his father’s hand, freeing his mother from the Camp Lord’s abuse. He had thought their relationship would become even better, had thought he’d finally get a taste for what it was like to have his mom with him for more than an hour a week. But he hadn’t taken into account that as much as she loved him, as much as she wanted to finally be there for her child, Azriel looked like his father’s son. 
That was part of the reason his father and step family hated him so. He looked so much like his father, far closer to him than either of his cruel half-brother’s did. Looked like him so much that in Aisling’s weakest moments, she couldn’t stand to look at her son, wearing the face of their shared abuser. 
It hadn’t been something he had been prepared for. Years of fighting, of torture, of trauma, and his mother bursting into tears and throwing things at him in her worst of times had almost killed him. So he stayed away to protect her.
Even though she had gotten to the point where episodes like that were few and far in-between, Azriel had needed far more convincing to visit her. They had restored their relationship a lot in the past few hundred years, but any time he looked at his mother, he knew what she saw. The same thing he saw every time he looked in the mirror. 
Whether it was a divine intervention of some sorts that took pity on the Shadowsinger, or whether his sheer hatred had done it alone, he had grown to resemble his dad far less. Where Azriel was classically beautiful, his father was brutally and cruelly so. Still, Azriel could never feel anything but hatred and resentment for that man when he looked at himself. 
Nesta quickly left, deciding it was better to give the two a private reunion. She walked down to the room that had been quickly converted into a dining room, so the Inner Circle, as well as Helion, could stay close to both Az and Adelaide.  
“How was he when he saw Aisling?” Rhysand asked. Nesta almost didn’t answer him, still extremely mad at Rhys for his treatment of both the Shadowsinger and Addie, but the look of pure despair and concern, along with the slightest glint of hope, pushed her to reply.
“He looked shocked, so I left quickly to let them hash it out.” She said as she sat down next to her mate, who put a comforting arm around her shoulder. 
“Wouldn’t he be happy to see his mother? Why hadn’t she come sooner?” Feyre asked. 
“They have a complicated relationship. Because of Azriel’s father’s abuse-” The High Lord of night began, till he was cut off by a bread roll thrown at his head.
“It is none of her business.” Mor hissed out. 
Since the betrayal, even for a while before, Feyre hadn’t been on the best of terms with Adelaide. While Addie had been nothing but kind, Feyre saw her as an obstacle keeping her from her mate. When Feyre’s ill treatment towards her had reached its tipping point, causing Addie to run to Az in tears, Azriel had been less than amicable with his brother’s mate. It was also clear Feyre had seen his attempted resurrection of his best friend as nothing but an attack against her. She had become slightly more empathetic and understanding in the past few weeks, but that had only been because any sharp words from her about either of the best friends had led to fights with any of the Inner Circle, but especially Rhysand, who had been keeping his promise of working towards doing right by those he wronged. 
Feyre huffed when she realized Rhysand wasn’t even going to speak an explanation into her mind, finding his mind shields impenetrable. 
“Thesan said he had checked in with his mother at Rosehall to see how Aisling had been doing when we requested her presence. Apparently, she has been much better, but had been worried about Azriel when her letters went unanswered.” Helion spoke up. 
Cassian deflated at that, he had seen Aisling’s letters piling up, knew that Az hadn’t been in the right state to answer. He should have known that his mother was probably the right person to call. 
“She is here now. So we must make plans on what to do next. The High Lord has delegated enough work, both of you must go back and run your court.” Amren stated, staring down both Rhysand and Feyre. The youngest Archeron wanted nothing more than to return to her court, but Rhysand had been more weary, not wanting to leave Azriel vulnerable like he had before. 
But now it wasn’t like before, not really. Rhysand knew Az had been in a dark, depressive state for months after Adelaide’s death. He had done nothing but the occasional check in or inquiry, to which he never got an answer from the Shadowsinger himself. Now, Az had hope that he would soon be reunited with his best friend. While he wasn’t in good physical condition, mentally he was on the mend. Plus, he had the best healers and scholars in Prynthian working around the clock to help the two of them, along with the Inner Circle to offer familiar comfort. 
He knew he had to leave. He knew it was best to leave Az with people he actually wanted to see. Rhysand would have to work on gaining Azriel’s forgiveness later. 
Right then, Aisling herself popped in, looking tired but content. 
Only Rhysand and Cassian had met her, Amren knew of her existence and couldn’t truly say she wasn’t interested in the woman who created a son like Azriel, but she didn’t think it was her business, so she never cared to inquire more. While the Archerons had been left out of the loop for the most part, Nesta had learned of her existence and Azriel’s protectiveness over her after making a sharp comment about how the fact he never spoke of her must mean she wasn’t a very good mother, a comment she still deeply regretted, even though he had forgiven her a few times over. Mor on the other hand, had begged to meet her. Azriel had enthusiastically agreed many times, but Rhys had always intervened, knowing it was unfair of her to request to meet someone so deeply cherished by Azriel when Mor was knowingly playing with his feelings for her. 
No one spoke as they waited for Aisling to break the silence. Popping down next to Cassian, who she had often referred to as her second son, she let out a somber and exasperated laugh. 
“I will never understand it.” The Illyrian woman said.
No one spoke, until Feyre lost her patience with all the secrecy, “Understand what?”
Several glares from the Inner Circle were directed at the High Lady. 
“His capacity for love.” Aisling answered. Once again the room fell silent, the reply like an arrow to the heart after their negligent treatment of the Shadowsinger. “I have no idea where he got it.” Cassian laughed, a clear ‘obviously he got it from his mother’ displayed in his expression. “I’m serious. Even before…” she trailed off, making vague hand gestures. Everyone knew what she wasn’t saying out loud, even before the abuse. 
She took a deep breath and continued after a few moments, “I never truly believed in love as strong as his, never knew it was a possibility. Maybe it was Illyria, maybe it was my environment specifically. Maybe I wasn’t meant for romantic love. But Azriel had every right to grow up cruel, to end up hateful. No matter what bullshit he gives about the things he has done, he loves with his entire being.” 
As she let a tear fall, Cassian reached for her hand on the table. “You look well, Aisling.” 
She laughed, “Azriel makes me look young.” She hadn’t been prepared to see him, it had been decades since they had last met in person. After 50 years without communication with Rhysand keeping the Inner Circle stuck in Velaris, both had been weary as to how Aisling seeing him would go. They restarted their letters, promised to meet again “soon”, but when Adelaide died, Azriel had gone silent without any answer. Cassian and Rhysand had vaguely filled her in on why her son wouldn’t answer but with Az not talking to either of them, they couldn’t give much information. When she saw her son, he seemed to have aged hundreds of years in their time apart. 
“Didn’t you have him when you were young? You are hardly older than any of us and far younger than Amren.” Helion inquired. 
“I was 16 when I had him.” Several at the table shuttered at the thought. 
Once more the room was filled with silent grief, a depressing situation getting far more depressing with each second. That was till Nesta spoke up.
“You mentioned romantic love. Does- Is Azriel in love with Adelaide?” The question seemed to suck all the air from the room. Of course he loved her, but was Az in love with Addie? The thought made Rhysand nauseous. 
“I asked him. Seeing him look at her now, it isn’t the same as before.” Tension mixed with impatience made everyone unable to move. “He doesn’t know anymore. He said he didn’t before, or doesn’t believe he did. He just said he ‘woke up differently’. I’m unsure what he meant.” She explained.
Before anyone could speak up, a healer, who had been by Azriel’s side after his mother left, ran into the room. “She’s awake” was all that could be heard before a loud crash sounded from Adelaide’s room.  
A/N: Aisling is pronounced Ash-Ling. 
139 notes · View notes
wingedhallows · 11 months ago
Text
we'll be family; sirius black
Tumblr media
pairing: sirius black x reader | 1.6k words plot: sirius is finally back and your godson is as well. You're determined to finally be a family, no one will come between, you're determined. prompt: "we'll be family" authors note:I hope you like it, there might be another part :)
navigation | part two
Tumblr media
“The food is incredible, Molly.” you smiled at the red haired woman. A couple of humms agreeing with you as you continued to devour the bowl of food. “I’m glad, hun.”
Your hand was entangled with his, shoulder to shoulder. 
Sirius had broken out of Azkaban a few months ago, you’d been inseparable ever since. Albus had let you finally and officially meet your godson, not that you haven’t seen him before.
The old wizard had forbidden you to take him, he had deemed you unfit to take care of an infant when Lily and James were killed and Sirius was sent to Azkaban. You complied all those years ago, not that you didn’t go down without a fight.
“Harry, love, we’ll get all of your things tomorrow morning, alright?” you spoke, his head snapping to you. He gave you a small smile and nodded. “I’ll come with you, no worries.” Your hand found his and his smile widened a tad. “Alright.” Harry had run away in a fit of anger, with good reason, you thought.
That old hag had it coming. You slightly waved your hand and the jug of water hovered over the table towards you. You were one of few wizards who were able to do magic without a wand. Making you a great asset to the Order.
Sirius tensed up, you knew well that the wrongful accusations still hurt him and how annoyed he was that he was practically bound to the house he most hated.
“Alright, all kids out!” Alastor spoke as he made his way into the kitchen. “We’ll start the meeting!” he continued. Molly ushered the children out before Harry turned to you. Sirius's hand had found its way across your back and held your waist while the other gently stroked your shoulder. 
Oh, how you had missed this, missed him.
“I want to stay, Y/N.” Harry whispered as he held onto your hand. Sirius didn’t intervene, he had made his point an hour ago. “Go on now, Harry.” Molly pushed him gently and you rose to your feet. “I’d like Harry to stay.” You said.
Severus who just arrived scoffed at you, lips in a snarl as he opened his mouth. You held on to Harry and ushered him to take a seat just like yourself.
“He’s got you under such a tight grip, just like all those years ago.” You rolled your eyes at him and propped your head onto your hand in boredom. “Like calls to like, I guess.”
He paused and the hand your husband had around your back tensed, your eyebrows shut up in anger. “Black’s been a lovesick fool without an opinion even in his school days, it was only a matter of time for you as well, Y/N.” 
Your face converted into the cold mask you knew too well, the fork in your hand clutched tightly as you, without a thought, apparated just across the table. Sirius had gone through a lot during your school days, his parents were absolute monsters and your love kept him above water all those years. To badmouth your connection, the shared pain and sorrow was unheard for.
 Without as much as a huff you pointed the fork to Severus’ neck, his eyes wide.
“I might be all smiley, happy even because after twelve years of a sentence he didn’t deserve, I finally have my husband back you better don’t forget that I’m a Slytherin as well, dear Snivellus.” You leaned down, eyes boring into his. “I’ll end you just like the little worm you are, if you dare insult my husband once more.”  “Any more comments to add?” he gulped and avoided your eyes. “That’s what I thought.”
Without another word you apparated right back into your chair, the slight squeak from the old chair the only sound in the room. “What was that?” Kingsley spoke. You didn’t think too much of it. Your friends have known since school, even Albus and Minerva knew. It was no secret that wandless magic was your expertise.
“You’ve mastered wandless magic?” Kingsley spoke again, your eyes found Harry’s, who tried to hide a laugh. Your outburst towards his most hated teacher filling him with joy. “I had a lot of time.” You huffed, the filled cup found its way to your painted lips.
Your hands found their way to your lover. His lips connected with your neck as your fingers played with the back of his neck. “You’re breathtaking when you’re angry.” He whispered in your ear before pressing a light kiss onto your cheek. “Oh, how I love you, Sirius.” you smiled into the kiss.
The meeting had gone by quickly after you all agreed to let Harry join the next meeting. Albus claimed that he had to think about it thoroughly, since it wasn’t a light choice to make. Sirius and You stood with your opinion, there was no time to waste, you thought.
“Here they are.” you smiled before grabbing a pile of dusted old books. They were in fact photo albums. “I haven’t seen those in years.” Sirius spoke behind you, his hands tucked into his trousers. “I want Harry to have them.” you gave him a kiss and made your way out of your bedroom. Sirius had given you a nod and settled on the bed without another word.
You knocked on the room the kids slept in. Harry, Hermoine and Ron had agreed to share a bedroom. There was a slight rumble before you opened the door with a squeak. You tried to suppress a laugh, of course they were still awake.
A snort escaped you as you flicked on the light. “Stop pretending to be asleep, you lot aren’t good at it.” Harry rose first and gave you an uncomfortable laugh. Hermoine and Ron joined him shortly after. “Sorry, we were supposed to-”Oh, please. You’re old enough to sleep when you feel like it.” You waved him off, the three visibly relaxed. 
“I came because.. I wanted to give you these.” You held out your hands. Your godson got up from his bed and joined you on the floor. His friends joined you as well. “What are these?” He asked. You gave him a smile and opened the first one. “These are our years at Hogwarts.” 
The first page was graced with a group photo of Lily, James, Remus, Peter, Sirius and You. You all held onto your graduation caps, wide smiles on your faces. “This was right after graduation, but there are pictures of all seven years.” 
A small smile formed on your face as you watched how James had tried to stretch his arms over all of you, how Lily leaned into James’ side with a wide smile. Remus had his arms around Sirius and You, your hand on Sirius chest as he pressed a kiss onto your head.
Harry stared at you with wide eyes. “I was determined to document our time together.” you paused and flipped to another page. “This was after your mother had finally agreed to go out with your father, we were all so happy that James’ yapping would stop now. He was insufferable, really.” 
In the picture was James as he held Lily in his arms, smiling wide. Remus, Sirius and You stood next to them shaking your heads. Sirius had his hand in yours and your other arm was propped up on Remus' shoulder who had sat down onto a tiny wall. 
Harry chuckled and you flipped to another page. “This was when your parents asked us to be your godparents.” you looked at the picture. How the shock spread onto your faces before you smothered baby Harry in a kiss. Sirius stroked Harry’s cheek and settled a kiss on your cheek. You’ll never forget the warmth that spread through you as they asked you, how much love warmed the place that night.
“Take your time looking through them.” You paused and raised your hands to Harry’s cheeks. Oddly enough it felt like all those years ago, when you used to hold little Harry in your hands. “I know Sirius and Me are not your parents and…we’ll never be but, I’ll try my best to be anything close to the mother Lily never got the chance to be.” A tear made its way down Harry’s cheek and you quickly wiped it. “I love you, Harry. We’ll be a family now.”
You gave Hermoine and Ron a stroke to their cheeks as well and left them alone. Before you were out the door you spoke once again. “You can ask me anything about them whenever you want, I’ll gladly answer your questions.There are so many great stories about them.” he nodded and got to his feet. 
Within seconds he had his arms around you, his face buried in your neck. You held him, stroked his back in a comforting manner. “Thank you, Y/N. I love you too.” He raised his head and you wiped the tears once again. 
“Your parents would be more than proud of you, Harry. Such a lovely young man you’ve become.” you planted a kiss on his forehead and left the kids alone.
Sirius was still awake, a book clasped in his hand as he looked at you through his reading glasses. “Are you cryin’?” he said, book long forgotten as he sat on the edge of the bed. You nodded and embraced him in a tight hug, your head rested on his chest. “I showed him some pictures of all of us.” He planted a kiss on your temple. “Oh.” was all he said.
“I miss them.” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek. “Me too.” he answered.
388 notes · View notes
yanderes-galore · 7 months ago
Note
Will you be willing to write a yandere concept for geto suguru from jjk with a sorcerer reader? I can't see him with a non-sorcerer reader.
Sure. He could technically be with either, but the dynamic is WAY different.
Yandere! Suguru Geto with Sorcerer! Darling
Pairing: Romantic/Platonic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Violence, Genocidal views, Condescending behavior, Blood, Murder, Attempted brainwashing, Kidnapping, Psychological warfare, Degrading behavior, Possessive behavior, Forced companionship/relationship.
Tumblr media
Compared to regular humans, Geto is very polite and caring towards his fellow Sorcerers and Curse Users.
Safe to say that his obsession being a Sorcerer or Curse User is the most common obsession he'd have once he's a Curse User.
Even more so if you're someone he knew before defecting.
You don't necessarily have to believe in his cause, he could care less as long as he has you.
Geto would feel you both are the superior race compared to normal humans.
He'd probably view you as family in some way like he does his commanders.
I will say this though, Geto is really fake.
Manipulation and fake personas are something he uses to get others to trust him often.
He knows the values of Jujutsu Sorcerers.
You like to protect the weak, which is the reason he prefers Curse Users.
You have such naive views in his eyes.
He's tossed away such views years ago.
Poor you... trying to get in his way like the rest of the Sorcerers?
I imagine Geto has some respect for you but believes your allegiance is misplaced.
This may also work better if he knew you along with Gojo.
Maybe you three were friends up until the Star Plasma Vessel incident.
You no doubt sensed Geto's change in demeanor but he always hid it from you.
He cared for you in his own way, just like he did with Gojo.
But you were too oblivious to the truth in his eyes...
Don't you know the world would be better off if Curses didn't exist and people could live life without them?
If Geto told you of such a thought, you might even agree with him.
Until he started committing massacres.
To see your friend go down such a path is... tragic.
You stayed with Gojo, even if Geto tried to convince you to stop being so oblivious.
Such a rift left you on poor terms with the Curse User.
Oh, he still adores his beloved companion and friend...
He just hates that you decided to protect the monkeys rather than cull them.
It's a shame, really....
You have such potential.
Geto would probably not kill you for a couple reasons.
One, he most likely either knew you before or sees you as a possible student.
Two, he doesn't want to waste your potential.
Meaning Geto would focus on isolation and capture more than killing you.
If anything, he'd want to give you a chance at change.
You can help him break the cycle... you just need to learn how to kill non-sorcerers.
Due to how charismatic Geto is with people, he'd try and convert you by force.
Now, now, don't fight him.
Fighting him will only make things harder for yourself.
I can see Geto doing everything in his power to break you down.
I'm talking things like kidnapping, isolation, degradation, all sorts of things to mess with your head and break your resolve.
Geto may even kill non-sorcerers in front of you to show how weak they are, how you couldn't help them even if you tried just like he couldn't....
Geto would take pleasure in this, too.
If you just agreed with him, if you just listened...
You wouldn't have to go through this.
But, no, you want to be all innocent and righteous.
Fine, be that way, he'll make you see his way.
Geto would break you, making you used to all the bloodshed and whispering small words of propaganda and encouragement in your ear... then he'll make you his little puppet.
He's condescending, laughing when you shake at the blood covering your clothes and hands.
This is the real world, dear!
Why not help him remake it?
He stops being condescending and degrading when you break and listen to him.
At that point you're no longer a Sorcerer... you're a Curse User.
Part of Geto's family.
By this point he'd either treat you like a student/successor... or a lover in his cult.
He's so much nicer when he takes the fight out of you.
He plans to reform you, to bring back that fight against normal humans.
There's no need to cry... he'll comfort you once you transition over.
Sorcerer principles are so weak.
Once you drop them, Geto greets you with open arms.
If you're a student, he welcomes you as his newest successor... ready to be trained with a new mindset.
If you're someone he knew years ago, he greets his old friend with open arms.
He knew you'd eventually come to him.
You just needed some convincing.
Geto's possessive once he converts you by force.
His pet monkeys aren't allowed to touch you and you're never out of his sight.
You're important to him, which is ironic as this is the man who would shatter your mind just to keep you.
Your abilities are soon used for his motives.
Soon enough you're forced to depend on Geto.
He makes you feel like you need him with his words and manipulation.
Soon you'll forget all about being a Sorcerer.
Surely you realize Geto knows best and wants to see you improve, right?
Soon you won't even want to leave his arms ever again... trapped and lulled in by his venomous words.
175 notes · View notes
brazenautomaton · 3 months ago
Text
concept that would be better than "instead of fighting off the alien invasion humans ally with aliens to destroy earth fascism":
alien emissaries from beyond the stars come to Earth. immediately alien-worship cults arise. one by one governments of the world fall to them and proclaim that the aliens are our allies and there's nothing to fear. the aliens have released a brainwashing virus that converts humans to be their slaves. human resistance fighters dwindle and are pushed back every day. the resistance all know one of their own who has fallen to the alien brainwashing and tried to get them to accept their new masters, and regard it with utter dread. our perspective character makes his spouse / best friend promise that if he falls and becomes one of them, to kill him.
of course he gets captured and put in a prison camp for alien brainwashing. except that... there's no aliens. and it's like a regular prison POW camp like on normal earth. and his "re-education" is just explaining in an increasingly exasperated tone that no, the aliens are not invading, they can't even live here, they want Venus. We're so unlike them that their view toward us is like how we regard hypothetical plants in the Amazon that could cure cancer: worth keeping around just in case it turns out to be useful, if you destroy it then you might be sorry you did. New installations of alien technology are all built and controlled by humans because why the fuck would they expect us to trust them to put up pylons with tech we don't understand. the aliens have been working on negotiations to create a mutual system that ensures we won't attack each other since they know there's so many humans that as a species we cannot coherently make or keep promises. the crazed cultists at the outset were people who were already fucking wackadoo. there is no brainwashing virus because how the fuck would they know how to make one for a species whose biology is so utterly unlike their own? everyone who was "brainwashed" just had someone actually explain to them what is actually going on and realized they were wrong.
so the central metaphor there is the idea that radicalization is good in itself, the fear and disgust at changing your own views -- especially political ones -- even though presumably if you change your views in the future it's because you have a better reason to believe they are true.
after this we have the perspective character try and figure out "how do I reach the resistance with the message 'no these guys are actually not malevolent, like actually, no really, it is actually not a problem' when anything that could possibly convey that concept is discarded as a lie.
then of course our perspective character is killed by his best friend / spouse who promised to do so if he ever fell to the pro-alien side. the guy pleads that he didn't understand before, it's not what he thought at all, there's no reason to do this, but before he'd said "no matter what happens no matter how much I plead or try to justify it or explain, don't listen, it's not really me," so she shoots him dead.
she has also been "re-educated" to see the truth that the aliens are not that big a deal and everything we were afraid of was made up in our own heads, but she considers keeping promises to be the most important thing. we leave on the question: did she do the right thing?
108 notes · View notes
laurfilijames · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
All I Want...
Pairing: Will Miller x reader
Words: 1.3k
Warnings: Angst. Swearing. PTSD. Panic attack. Mentions of an unhappy childhood, military service, personnel being KIA. Tom's death. Grief. People being unhappy at Christmas. (There's some fluff too, bear with me!)
Summary: Will tries to fight off a panic attack early on Christmas morning, his unenthusiastic feelings toward the holiday making him feel guilty on top of everything else on his mind, only to be reminded that it's okay to not feel festive and that he's not alone.
A/N: I'll be the first one to admit that Christmas isn't all it's cracked up to be sometimes. People often call me Scrooge, but I've learned over the years to prioritize my mental health around the holidays and take it all in stride. To those who struggle in any kind of way this time of year, I see you, and this is for you.
This fic follows some of my headcanons about the Miller brothers in that they didn't have a great upbringing, and that Will often suffers from poor sleep and panic attacks.
---
Scrooge. The Grinch.
These were some of the names bestowed upon Will over the years, his less than enthusiastic feelings toward Christmas noticed and pointed out as often as possible during the holiday season by those closest to him, mainly Benny.
It was innocent enough, his brother, Fish and Pope all aware and understanding to the reasons why Will wasn’t overly excited, but sometimes it got under his skin and the temptation to tell Ben to fuck off sat on the tip of his tongue on more than one occasion when he got going on a roll of teasing him.
He always tried his best to keep his opinions to himself, not caring to bring it up in order to avoid the shock and disbelief that someone could hate Christmas, having to stand and painfully listen to whoever was scolding his humbug ways try to convert him and preach all the reasons why it was so magical.
He had been this way for as long as he could remember, the earliest memories of an unhappy Christmas morning tucked away in the back of his mind until they inevitably were pushed back to the surface each time the radio stations turned their usual music to all the annoying holiday songs and people started asking the mundane “Are you ready for Christmas?” questions to everyone who never wanted to give an honest answer. He could always see the stress most people carried with them this time of year, the worry of spending money they didn’t have and not meeting expectations evident on their faces as they frantically rushed around to get all the things ticked off their lists to make the day ‘perfect’.
Perfect was never a word Will would use to describe any of his past Christmases, the thought making him scoff and shake his head as he looked up at the night sky, counting the stars as a way to try to clear the persistent thoughts that had gotten him out of bed at 3:26 AM.
Vivid images that he had tried to blur and forget always reappeared no matter how hard he tried; his parents yelling from the kitchen loud enough he had to peel Benny and his one toy from under the tree to go outside to get away from the anger, not to mention the countless Christmas mornings he woke up to gunfire or spent the day trudging through the rain and freezing cold, or had sweat clinging to his back in the heat of the desert, more often than not spending December 25th on tour and deployed somewhere that mimicked hell.
Will couldn’t help but feel guilt more than usual on days like today, thinking of all the families whose sons or daughters, husbands or wives and everything between never made it home to celebrate another Christmas with them, that shame becoming part of the reason he tended to make sure he was always off serving somewhere, not feeling like he deserved to be in the warm comforts of home with those he loved.
Add that to the long list of things his ex resented him for, one more thing he could never do right, and something else she refused to make an effort to understand despite him trying to explain it.
Today it seemed to all weigh more than it normally did.
Tom’s death was still fresh in all their minds, this being the first Christmas Molly and the girls would have to spend without him, and the thought of their irreparable grief made Will want to crumble.
He exhaled a long breath, blowing it out shakily from his lungs, his chest feeling tight as his heart pounded inside it like a caged animal.
He inhaled as slowly as he could manage, one, two, three, counting in his head to gain control over the quickly rising panic.
Exhaling out, one, two, three, his heart still hammering, his pulse furiously thrumming in his neck.
His hand shook as he lifted it up to rub the back of his neck roughly, feeling sweat accumulating on it and dampening his palm that was equally wet.
The steadiness of the number of seconds between each laboured breath was doing little to keep him calm, the thoughts of his conversation with you a couple of days prior echoing in his mind to drown them out along with the ringing in his ears.
You swore up and down a hundred times that you were fine with not celebrating, assuring him that you were relieved to not make a fuss over Christmas and reminding him that your own views of it were also plagued by unhappy memories; that being alone with him was more a gift than anything wrapped in paper and bows under a tree. He knew you meant it when you said you wanted to hide away with him until the madness of it all was over, but now his mind was playing tricks on him, making him doubt your words and sending him into a tailspin over projecting his attitude toward it on you.
But he knew you wouldn’t lie to him.
He kept on that train of thought as his fingers wrapped around the railing on the deck, gripping into the wood as hard as he could, feeling the splintered pieces from years of weather digging into his skin. Drawing in another short breath and gasping slightly, he did his best to remember why he came outside in the first place, seeking fresh air that ironically had become suffocating.
One, two, three, he repeated to himself again, closing his eyes to better focus on slowing his breathing down.
A minute and thirty-seven seconds had passed with him concentrating, able to let the consistency of the numbers aid him as he continued to count, the feel of your warm hands slipping up his cold, clammy back allowing him to finally release the tension he had been holding in his shoulders.
“I’m okay,” he muttered, his voice lacking the conviction he hoped it had.
“I never thought you weren’t,” you whispered, your hands still pressing reassuringly on his torso as you moved beside him, your lips meeting his shoulder to kiss it twice.
Will smiled, grateful for your belief in him, never making him feel weak or like he needed saving, simply there with a love and empathy he had sought his whole life.
He released his grip on the rail and glanced over at you, shooting you a weak smile gathering you in his arms for a hug, kissing the top of your head appreciatively while you continued to rub your hands in a calming, languid pattern across his skin.
“I love you,” he murmured, feeling his heart beat in a stronger rhythm different from how it had moments ago.
“I love you too, Will,” your lips moved against his chest, your arms squeezing him a little tighter as you pressed yourself closer to his body.
“You’re sure you’re happy to spend Christmas this way?”
“More than happy,” you reiterated, pulling your face away to look at him, his blue eyes like flames against the deep navy of the night sky.
“Okay,” he sighed, leaning in to kiss you.
“You know there’s that song, ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’,” you smiled, watching his expression change, his grin stretching out to form the creases in his cheeks as he shook his head.
“Please don’t sing it.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
Will chuckled and kissed you again, slowly, his tongue slipping into your mouth with a gentle demand.
“Let’s get back to bed,” he said quietly, nodding toward the house after he broke the seal of your lips.
As he led you into the house, your fingers laced with his, he thought how maybe he could find ways to celebrate Christmas with you that wouldn’t make it all seem so terrible, the idea of creating your own traditions somewhat exciting to him.
He smiled at you over his shoulder, stopping in the middle of the hallway where he clasped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, his body pressing into yours with a need to show you just how much you meant to him, knowing that as long as he was with you he could face anything.
---
Comments and reblogs are always appreciated and if you'd like to be added or removed from my taglist please let me know! 💗
Taglist: @sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989
296 notes · View notes
colourstreakgryffin · 1 year ago
Note
Can we get Muzan but he has twin male children, who in the Uppermoons eyes are way more threatening and terrifying then Muzan, the twins are very overprotective of Muzan when he isn’t looking, and Muzan believes that his boys are sweet and harmless, but the twins are always killing anything and everyone who even looks at their father the wrong way
Another Papa Muzan scenario! After I just made one, it’s okay though! Let’s do another Papa Muzan!
Kibutsuji Muzan- Trio of Disaster
Tumblr media
Muzan loves his twin sons to death and he will happily murder anybody, demon or human, who dare to try insult nor suppress his children. They are just as high power as Muzan and their privileges may or may not twist their point of view into believing they are unstoppable with how much Muzan spoiled them
Muzan isn’t aware of how his Upper Moons are more terrified of his sons then him. He wouldn’t be upset if so, he’d be relieved that his sons are becoming so much like their father and he would encourage them to continue maintaining their image. Muzan feels pride for his princes of the demons
Muzan is overprotective towards his twins, and that passionate treatment is traded back on the twins’ behalf. They hiss and bark at anybody who merely looks at their father, and that includes striking at Tanjiro when he first comes across Muzan. The twins value their father too much to let him be tainted, even in the slightest
Muzan isn’t aware of how the twins attack demons and humans he speaks to, behind his back. As much as he loves his sons, he isn’t really aware of how they really are like. He simply believes they are angels, unable to do anything wrong but they are truly as rotten as him
Muzan will argue hysterically with his Upper Moons over his sons. Proclaiming they are innocent and pure, as they always are with their father. As they torture Gyokko and Hantengu for daring to breath in their father’s direction wrong. The twins are rather cruel and evil but their intentions are centred around their father
Muzan loves taking his sons out to everywhere he goes. To Shibuya, to Tokyo, to the nearby River, to the Ubuyashiki household. Muzan will never leave his sons out and he constantly has them right besides him. He just can’t stand being away from his lovely sons
Muzan is very attached to his lovely twins. He has had them for so long, he can’t even express how much he adores them. Sure, he adopted them when he turned them into demons to save their lives for his selfish gain but that original reason has converted into a real fatherly love
Muzan likes buying presents for his twins. Even if he has to get his claws dirty to get them, he always comes back with lots of gifts for his sons and this kinda enables their entitled, aggressive nature. Muzan could care less, he loves his sons and he doesn’t bat a eye at the remarks he gets over them being unnecessarily cruel to everybody
Muzan will never bring his twins into a mission nor fight, under any circumstance. The final battle including him, he hides them away and proclaims his love for them is infinite. Sure, when he doesn’t come back, the twins are distraught and cry for days over their father’s defeat but they know they must carry on the legacy
“Boys. Come here, give Father a hug… this is sadly a serious situation but I need you two to run away. Hide, avoid the slayers as much as possible. They will come after you, and I love you two too much to let them hurt you. For Father, save yourselves”
468 notes · View notes
stupittmoran · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Gather around everyone, it's time for an intriguing story about an ordinary man pushed to extraordinary measures.
Marvin Heemeyer, was a simple owner of a muffler shop in Granby, Colorado. When the city council decided to approve the construction of a concrete factory right across his shop, Marvin's troubles began. This decision obstructed the only access road to his business. Marvin put up a fight, lodging appeals against the construction, even procuring heavy machinery for building a new access road himself. But all his efforts fell on deaf ears.
The concrete factory sprang up, blatantly disregarding the impact on Marvin's business. To make matters worse, Marvin's shop got cut off from the city's sewage lines during the factory construction, leading to him being unjustly fined by the city council.
Seeing his livelihood crumble, Marvin refused to give in. Over a span of 18 months, he converted the bulldozer he had initially bought to salvage his business into an armored machine. It boasted 3-foot thick steel and concrete armor, advanced camera systems, and bulletproof glass.
June 4th, 2004 marked a day of reckoning. Marvin Heemeyer sealed himself inside this fortified bulldozer, famously known as the "Killdozer," preparing to make his final stand.
Emerging from the muffler shop, Marvin directed the Killdozer towards the very concrete factory that led to his downfall. Over the next few hours, he drove through 13 buildings associated with those who had wronged him, including the city council building itself.
Despite attempts by SWAT teams and even other heavy machinery to stop the Killdozer, nothing could penetrate its solid armor. However, Marvin's crusade came to a halt when the Killdozer got trapped in one of the buildings it was set to destroy. Marvin made the somber decision to end his life, the only life taken that fateful day.
Today, we commemorate Killdozer Day in honor of Marvin Heemeyer, considered the last true American folk hero. He symbolizes a man pushed to the edge who chose to stand up against an indifferent system.
From Marvin's notes that were discovered posthumously: "I was always willing to be reasonable until I had to be unreasonable. Sometimes reasonable men must do unreasonable things."
Shared from a friend on Twitter 
611 notes · View notes
plutoispurplw · 11 months ago
Text
The Story Of Us
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: Reader and Timothee!Wonka are having relationship problems and reader is questioning is this is the end of the story of them.
Words: 1K
Couple: Timothée!Wonka x Female reader
A/N: I only did this one shot because three things. 1- Two Days ago the light in my house was gone.
2- The request of @riordanness
3- I love Taylor Swift, you can count how many times I write a name of a song or a lyric.
Masterlistᝰ.ᐟ
Tumblr media
My relationship with Willy was great, we we're crazy in love with each other, he was always affectionate like it was our last day alive. He was the love of my life and I knew it. I know it sounds bad but he is the only person or thing that I ever needed, It was like he convert darkness into daylight.
Our personalities were the opposite, I never had hope in people before I met him, always prepared to be stabbed by close people, nothing calm my racing thoughts, always overthinking, I felt haunted so I leave my tired hometown just to discover that I was the problem.
He was the sun and I was the moon.
When I met him after being trapped by Scrubbit, I felt more helpless that I ever felt but then I met him, three days later after I arrived, he become my best friend and then my lover, I always help him to sell his chocolates, and I stay with him after my debt was paid, he was my daylight.
The work of managing the fabric and his store had him tired all the time and stressed out and that when it happen, our bedroom that was our secret oasis become a battle ground, this was a war that neither of us could end without fighting over and over again.
The only thing I could thought before falling asleep was that if this was the end of the story of us. The fairytale was slowly dying and I couldn't bear witness it.
How long can we still be a sad song? How long the silence would last until one of us leave? I didn't even remember the last time we kissed, or cuddle, or even talk in a affectionate way.
One night I was exhausted of this, I needed to feel again his caress and his lips against my collarbone, we were laying on the bed, the silence was still there, I got more closer to him and I tried to hug him but he only pulled away from my hold and got up from the bed.
I finally explode like a volcano. "I'm tired of this, why are you avoiding my touch or hugs like I'm something poisonous!" I yell at him while being sat on my knees on the bed.
"Stop, I don't wanna fight tonight, just stop."
He said with a very annoyed tone, his hands running through his hair.
"I'm tired of the silence, I miss when you cuddle with me while whispering sweet nothings against my hair." Tears streaming down my face, memories replaying like broken records. I got up from the bed and walk towards him. "I know that you're stressed out and that you don't wanna fight but we have to fight, if we keep like this out love is gonna die."
"You adore to fight, don't you? You're always want to fight." His voice sound more frustrated, his eyes fill with a anger I never seen before in him, maybe he was like the rest of the people after all.
"This is the last time we fight and I'm gonna go away, this is your last chance to give me a reason to stay because you're losing me."  He stay quiet and didn't say anything, I just change my clothes and pack my things, he didn't do anything to stop me, I wish he would.
When I left the house, I went to a friend's house, the whole way I was crying, did I ever meant something to him for him to try to fight for me?
I stayed the night there waiting for him to come but then days passed by and then one week and then became almost a month without seeing him.
This is how the things end? My love story never got a happy ending? It was my fault? I was the problem in this situation too? Thoughts like this filled my mind before falling asleep, my dreams were memories of him.
That day I needed to get more clothes and things so I went to our house, when I came into our bedroom I saw him seeing the ceiling, the room look messy, his expression full of sadness when he He saw me, he got up from the bed and walk towards me.
He look like he wanted to talk but how we could talk without screaming at each other? Without yelling that was the others fault. The problem was that I was bleeding and I could just runaway and live but my heart wanted to stay, to try to resolve things even if I bleed more, even if I died.
"I'm sorry, I should have fight or talk with you but I couldn't, I didn't want our love to die but in the end that's what happen." I started to cry, part of me wanted just to kiss him but I was still hurt.
"If you don't want to forgive me, don’t do it but please just understand that I love you and that I never wanted to lose you, why would I? You're perfect and you're the love of my life, since I meet you I meet you that day, I knew that it was fate that brought us together." Tears falling from his eyes, his eyes full of sadness, the happiness and daylight was almost gone.
I don't know who did it first but we were hugging each other like we would die if we didn't, my face against his chest wetting his shirt. He whispering apologies against my hair, his hands caressing my back as I cry.
I pull away to see his face, he was crying too, I stood on my tiptoes, my hands cupped his face and pull him closer to close the gap between our lips, when they touched it feel like heaven. The battleground was back again our secret oasis.
This wasn't the end of the story of us, it was just the start of another chapter in our fairytale
Tumblr media
112 notes · View notes
chamberofthespirit · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
I'm a Catholic, lets yap about Satan ✧
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹
Let's face it, movies lie.
They lie about a lot of things, like that the pentagram is the symbol of demons and that witchcraft immediately means Satanic.
Movies lie that all nuns are abusive and cruel, they lie that Jesus was a white man, etc. They lie that Satanist sacrifice children and animals, they lie that all Satanists belong to a cult, they lie that all Satanists are up for assault.
Sadly, it's rare to see a Christian have a real conversation with a Satanist that doesn't involve fighting, ridicule, and attempts to convert the individual. How many of these Christians go off of the movies and assume the information is straight out of the history books? Sadly, a lot. Christians will also see a video of a girl spitting up into a bowl, crying, and screaming and immediately jump into the conclusion that she must be possessed by an evil force rather than considering the person has a disability or doing it for attention.
Satan doesn't want to kill you nor does he want to possess you
Does Satan like God? No. Does he want to psychically harm you just because you like God? Also no. In all real exorcisms, it's usually always a angry demon, never Satan. Satan converted the fallen angels to follow in his path but not to literally follow his every move, they were all just sent to hell together, that doesn't make Satan their ruler pursue.
Forgot who made Satan?
Christians say they know God created Satan but have they truly acknowledged it? What is "pure evil" exactly? Someone could commit threaten someone with a gun one night and then help an old lady across the street the very next day, get where I'm going?
Satan was God's favorite. God built him to be his favorite. Satan was built on grace but also with his own free will to think whatever he wants, which is why he was capable of choosing not to follow his Father. Have you ever heard a Satanist say that Satan told them to hurt a Christian? Probably not. Satan looks more towards basic trying to persuade people into converting to his side but he never has had assaulted them over it because he is still built on grace. His grace that still lingers inside him, is the exact reason why most Satanists follow Satanic rules that somewhat match the rules of Christianity.
I have talked to Satan in the past. He's not a threat or terrifying.
In the past, when I was still lost on how I wanted my beliefs to be, I tried talking to Satan through tarot. Not once did he ever treat me like I was scum all because I also liked his brother, Gabriel. Satan did have a slight additude but also humor and just regular conversation. All that happened was a fued between Michael and Satan in the conversation, which Gabriel dipped cause he was tired of dealing with them, it felt nothing like just a sibling fued. Nothing too crazy, basically seemed like a roasting battle.
STOP HATING ON SATANISTS BECAUSE THEY AREN'T ACTUALLY BAD PEOPLE. LOVE THY NEIGHBOR AND STOP ACTING LIKE SATAN IS GOING TO DO ANYTHING TO YOU!!
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹
80 notes · View notes
wontshutup · 8 months ago
Text
I had this idea of a Reader x Nanami + Ex!Gojo where the reader was a single mother of Gojo's child.....just stay with me on this ok?
Nanami is grossery shopping, looking for a good sourdough in the bakery section and a small girl asks him to help her reach a cookie. White silky hair and bright blue eyes piercing into his, taking him aback with the resemblance to a certain sorcerer.
He kneels down to be at the baby girl's height"Of course little one, but where is your mother?"
As if he had been heard, your voice pierces through the ambience of the store, making his head shut up as you where calling for a name only assumed to be the girl's.
"Aiko! There you are!" The little girl runs into your arms giggling "I wanted a cookie, the nice man was going to get me one" she said as she pointed back at you.
Nanami remains frozen in place, he couldn't believe his eyes as he had you right in front of him. The two of you had been together in high school, he had the strongest crush on you when you studied in jujutsu high, however you couldn't seem to tear your eyes at the sight of Gojo Satoru, lighting up at the mention of his name as if he was your whole world, how he wished he was the reason of such joy in you and not him, giving him one more reason to hate the white-haired sorcerer.
Once graduation came around for Gojo you had reached out to confess your feelings for him, Nanami didn't really knew when or how but one day after school you were being picked by a convertible drove by none other than Gojo Satoru, he watched as he greeted you with a soft kiss on the lips and saw how you softly smiled through the gesture, he felt a pang in his chest, as if he had been shot through the heart being the instant death of a man as he buried his feelings for you along with his heart, becoming colder with you until the last day of school, looking at your hand interlaced with Gojo's as you shared a celebratory kiss. That was the last time you saw eachother.
The news of you and Gojo not being together anymore didn't go unnoticed by him, as in a meeting Mei brought it up casually as Gojo Satoru brushed away any inquiry or comment on it, actually making him struggle not to tell the man how much of an idiot he was for not holding on to you, also feeling a small spark of joy in his mind, he couldn't help but fantasize of you finally seeing through the daze he had you in, getting fed up by the strongest's antics and deciding to dump him. He had to fight against the itch to ask about you, he held himself back not wanting to inquire more, being well aware that even as exasperating as he was, Gojo Satoru was actually making it all for your privacy.
He didn't dare ask, nor look for you, he was too deep into his work now as a jujutsu sorcerer to give into a life of romance now, maybe it was better this way.
And there you were, years later, holding in your arms the carbon copy of Gojo Satoru as you gave him a wide eyed look, softening your features at the sight of a familiar face.
"Nanami! Oh my ! It's been so long!" You made your way towards him, your free arm extending up to embrace him as your baby girl looked at the both of you with curiosity.
He hugged you back, wanting to engulf you into himself, yet the presence of the little one made him pull back into reality.
"It truly has Y/N" he said looking at the girl "and who might this be?" He said nearing his face towards her, earning a shy smile from you "this is Aiko, she's mine" you gave him a sympathetic smile.
The girl analyzed your interaction with analytical eyes "Mommy who is he?" She never tore her eyes off Nanami.
"Oh, this is Nanami Kento, we used to go to High-school together" you said as he bowed his head .
"With daddy too??" She asked with a bright tone, making him feel a tight knot in his chest, so she is Satoru's, then why in the world would he leave?! That Self-obsessed prick, he felt anger starting to rise within him at the thought of the man leaving you, how dare he keep you and his child hidden?? "Yeah, with daddy too" you gave Nanami a sheepish smile, feeling a hint of shame at his wide eyed expression.
Soon enough Aiko had re-started with the insistence to get a cookie, bringing the both of you back to the moment.
"OK Aiko, just give me a second" you gave Nanami a sympathetic smile as he too tried his best to hide the turmoil of feelings he had within "It was a pleasure seeing you again Kento, we should go get a coffee sometime. Here" you handed him your phone to type his contact in, he did with a serious expression as he focuses on not shaking, he gave it back to you. "See you then" you gave him one last smile and walked away, Aiko waving frantically at him, her tiny hand saying "bye-bye" at the stunned blonde.
Aaaaand that's part one, hahaha I do have questions to answer so just wait for it please
Part 2
Thanks for reading.
113 notes · View notes
themulitipurposechannel · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Healer!Cj updated ref letsgoooo
.
Ok so, refreshing and expanding on this original post: Once again I made Casey a healer cuz of his expressive and kind personality. plus how he was raised by the Hamatos meaning he defo inherited the classic Hamato brand of overprotectiveness towards family(esp cuz everyone kept dying :’)). It gave me the impression that deep down; despite his obvious feistiness what Casey truly wants is for his family to stay alive and safe, esp in the apocalypse.
BUT aside form emotional reasons, there is a practical aspect to all this (that I wanted to focus on) that someone can only have because they grew up in such a brutal environment. And it is this, Cj has healing powers because time and time again he has seen even the strongest people die not directly from the Kraang but from the aftermath of injuries and various illnesses.
He is intimately of the fragile nature of a flesh and bone body and the many ways it can fail. It’s how be lost his mom, it’s how he lost uncle Tello and he’s pretty sure it’s how they lost Master Raphael. In the end, the biggest enemy wasn’t the Kraang but the fact that the resistance lacked the resources to heal and maintain able bodies that could fight/work to produce resource etc etc. what good is being a good fighter If we’re all going to bleed out the same? So what to do?
Welp, Like any Casey would, he saw a gap. And where they lacked equipment or proper medicine, he was determined to fill it in whatever way he could. Subconsciously or not.
.
Which brings me to the secondary ability, this death power isn't cuz life/ death are like two sides of the same coin (tho ngl the theme worked out so well esp with his mask kidna looking like a skull). Much like his healing powers it’s deeply rooted in his upbringing in an apocalypse. dragging out fights in the apocalypse is fatal. Time and time again he has seen even the best fighters (his family included) die either in action or seeing them die or almost die due to sustained injuries becuz a fight was dragged out for too long and they just got more injuried.
Efficiency (aka finishing a fight fast) is key to survival and what can end a fight faster than literally draining opponents of life? It’s an insta-kill in the right circumstances. Bro is not here to play around. He is here to survive. And in a brutal environment like an invasion style-apocalypse?90% of the time if you’re forced to fight it’s means only one of you is coming out alive. Casey knows this. It’s an understanding that’s etched into his very soul. But hey, the good news is that this absorption of energy can help balance out/reduce the strain that comes from giving too much of himself away cuz the healing.
Of course like the healing (too much giving away can literally turn him into a dried up corpse or ya know, the cursed accelerated aging) this power has limitations. One, is that obviously enemies aren't going to be dumb and just stay in the very bright very obviously glowy field. So they’re gonna do everything they can to leave and he’s gonna have to fight to keep them in.
Second, if his opponent is drastically stronger/heavier than him physically and mystically. It means they have more energy than he can realistically hold (it’s like trying to scoop up the ocean with a cup, it’s gonna overflow) this means if he ever tries to drain them fully dry, the energy which then gets converted to mystic energy will eventually overload and leak out from whenever it’s safely stored and eat away at his body and kill him instantly (tho that depends on how bad the leakage is not all leakage is instantly fatal). Which is why no, Case can’t single handedly take on the Kraang/OP opponents, physical limitations aside, he’ll die from the mystic overload before he ever makes it close to draining them dry. That is, if they don’t beat him to a pulp first 😅
.
Also on another note hehe that there is also a fun little passive ability built into both the healing and the draining/decay which I can’t quite get into here cuz it’ll be spoilers for a certain comic I’m working on. But I will say this, this passive ability is smth that makes both active powers quite.. unpleasant especially when things go wrong. So hey be on the look out for that 😜 But welp that’s the price you pay for organic energy manipulation 😂
.
Edit: For anyone wondering Casey unlocked his Ninpo and started training when he was 10. This made him 14 when the decay thing kicked in. For this Au, The movie takes place a few months (or weeks I’m still working out the timeline) before he turned 15. So not alot of time to train AND plus the mental block from the passive ability it’s why the decay thing doesn’t ever show up in the movie. Overall there was a high chance his inexperience/apprehension (you gotta rmb he spent 5 years strongly associated as the healer kid, the sudden switch and what it said about parts of himself he’d rather not address rlly shook him and everyone around him up) could lead to him accidentally taking from the P!Hamato fam and seeing as I established how this decay can be an insta-kill in the right circumstances. Casey doesn’t want to risk it.
24 notes · View notes
heliads · 1 year ago
Note
Idk if requests are open rn (I can't convert time lol) but I was wondering if I could request something for Now You See Me? Maybe smth with Jack where they're both just a super silly couple, like always goofing around before shows and just having fun, but they're both kinda insecure, like 'what if the other person doesn't take this as serious as they do'. So they...idk talk it through and in general super fluffy. Sorry, i'm really bad at describing things. Feel free to ignore if I sent this in too early.
masterlist
Tumblr media
If you ask the Horsemen what they like most about being, well, a Horseman, you would get completely different answers. Some of you love the planning process, being able to organize the perfect heist right down to the very last detail. Others love the car chases afterwards, running as fast as they please without ever getting caught. Still more of you have a fondness for the magic tricks of the shows themselves.
If you were to pick, though, your favorite part about this fantastical life of yours wouldn’t be what happens on the stage, nor immediately before and after it. The magic is lovely, obviously, and you all enjoy the sound of so many people cheering your names, but what you like most of all about this select group of extraordinary people are the members of the group themselves. The backstage murmuring, the whispered inside jokes. That, to you, is worth more than any perfected sleight of hand trick.
That’s the reason for the contented feeling in your stomach as you survey your little crew. The five of you just made it out of another successful deal. This one will have the skeptics talking for months, of that you’re certain; all of you went above and beyond to make this job impossible to deny. It’s a good feeling. It lets all of you lay down your guard for the time being and just laugh with each other while you wait for the coast to clear outside.
Merritt tips his glass appreciatively as another siren caterwauls outside your hideout. “I think that’s the tenth one I’ve heard in ten minutes. Face it, people. We’re famous. Or, I am, at least. They might be too distracted by my good looks to notice you.”
Danny rolls his eyes. “They’d only get distracted by your looks if you hypnotized them.”
“Why don’t I do it to you, then?” Merritt pretends to lunge towards him, laughing when Danny jerks backwards.
“Not funny,” Danny complains.
“Totally funny,” you argue. “Are you scared because you’re worried it already happened? What if you secretly think Merritt has been super attractive this whole time and you’re just fighting the truth?”
Merritt snorts. “I like that idea.”
By your side, Jack breaks into a wide grin. “It’s okay, Danny. You can talk to us. We’re friends. Tell us your inner truth.”
Danny scoffs. “That is so not my inner truth.”
You arch a brow. “Are you sure? It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fallen for a Horseman.”
Danny glowers at you. “Low blow, Y/N. And that’s rich coming from you, anyway, given that you’re also dating a Horseman.”
This is true. Unlike Danny, though, you’re quite proud of it. Your relationship with Jack Wilder was quite literally months in the making. It nearly drove the other Horsemen insane with the way both of you couldn’t stop tiptoeing around your feelings, but you both confessed eventually and have been quite happy ever since. Even when your friends try to divert blame onto the two of you to get out of the hot seat.
Jack must be thinking along the same lines, because he just shakes his head and grins. “It’s okay to be jealous of our fantastic relationship, Daniel. It’s not your fault we like each other way more than anyone loves you.”
Merritt chokes on his drink, and has to press a hand to his mouth to stop from laughing any more. “I didn’t laugh. That’s not funny, you two. You should all be nicer.” The twinkle in his eyes, though, lets you know that he’s firmly on your side.
Danny just groans. “Trust me, if this is what love is like, I’m fine without it. I feel like I’m going to be sick to my stomach. Remind me again why I wanted you two together so badly?”
Merritt chuckles. “Because you said the same things when they were just pining uselessly, remember? Ah, good times. And now the two of you can actually tell each other how much you love each other, right?”
He stares directly at Jack, waiting for him to say something. It’s strange, usually Jack has no problem picking up the thread of a joking conversation, always jumping in with another rebuttal, a laughing riposte, but this time, he just stays silent. He seems lost in thought, and maybe it’s just you being paranoid but it seems awfully coincidental that he would zone out just as Merritt brings up the idea of him being in love with you.
And, well, you get it. Love’s a big idea. Especially with your lives on the road now, it’s hard to picture any of you settling down in any way. You and Jack started out just flirting, only catching feelings by accident. You can’t expect him to love you. Even if you know that you’ve loved him for quite a while now.
Truth be told, this isn’t the first time such an issue has crossed your mind. You and Jack have been dating for a couple of months now, and you’ve been questioning things since the halfway point. It’s not Jack’s fault, really, it’s just hard sometimes to understand why he would pick you when there are literally hundreds of thousands of people begging to go out with him at every show. He could have any supermodel, any celebrity, but he chose you. It just makes a person wonder why.
It’s been getting to you lately, the instability of it all. You and Jack have a lovely time joking around, kissing after shows in between bouts of laughter, but he’s never once told you that he actually loves you. There’s a very good chance that he hardly sees this as a relationship at all, more a distraction in between extensive shows, and that to you is more heartbreaking than if he’d never confessed his feelings in the first place. You love Jack, you know you do. You just don’t know that he feels the same way about you.
The conversation drifts off into uneasy silence when Jack still says nothing. When it becomes clear that he’s not going to respond to that, you quickly change the subject, asking Daniel about his thoughts on the way a certain aspect of the job had gone. It’s an easy excuse, and will earn you at least fifteen minutes of uninterrupted Atlas monologue to smooth over the awkwardness, but you still feel your spirits sinking. It wouldn’t have hurt Jack to say something, right? Even just to joke along. He wouldn’t have to have meant it.
Merritt meets your eyes sympathetically, but you look away just as quickly. You don’t want his pity, it just means that he’s aware of the imbalance just as much as you are. Danny’s oblivious enough that he probably won’t notice it, which is good. You don’t want anyone realizing the difference in your affection from Jack’s. Not when you plainly like him more than he does.
It’s not a good feeling, to say the least. It sits with you the rest of the evening, causing you to leave early, claiming exhaustion and wanting an early night’s sleep. Jack tries to coax you to stay a little longer, but you can’t answer his jokes with the same spirit you usually do, making his face fall slightly. Well, a cruel voice whispers in the back of your head, good. He should feel at least a little of the hurt you do right now.
Even that doesn’t make you feel better, though. You lie awake, listening to the soft sounds of your friends laughing together. Jack never has a problem carrying the conversation when it’s just them, then. That means the problem must be you. You joke too much or not enough, and somehow Jack saw that you weren’t quite the right match for him. Maybe somewhere out there is a person who’s perfect for him, who can always pick up what he’s putting down and knows exactly the right amount of emotion to show, but Jack is making it clear that won’t be you. 
You fall asleep eventually, but even a good night's sleep isn’t enough to reset your mood. You do your best to act like nothing is the matter, but it’s hard to go on joking with Jack when all you want to do is ask him if he could ever actually see himself loving you. 
It takes about a week before he catches on. You’re bailing out of another night of drinks with the Horsemen because you can’t bear to see how flimsy your relationship really is. 
Instead of letting you go, though, Jack stays put in your room. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
You feign indifference. “Nothing, really. I’m just tired.”
Jack doesn’t seem convinced. “You’ve been ‘just tired’ for a while now. It’s not like you.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought,” you mumble, trying to distract yourself by pretending to look at the papers on your desk. 
“What does that mean?” Jack’s voice, suddenly razor-sharp, takes you by surprise. 
You lift a shoulder cautiously. “Nothing. Just leave me alone, alright? You’ll have more fun if you’re not stuck with me right now, I know that.”
“That’s not true at all,” Jack protests. “Every time the rest of us go out, I’m miserable. They can all tell you that. It’s no good if you’re not out there with me, Y/N.”
You can’t help a tinge of bitterness from entering your voice. “So you want me to go out with you because you want entertainment? Great, Jack, that definitely makes me feel better.”
He reacts as if you’ve struck him. “That’s not what I mean at all. What’s gotten into you?”
“What’s gotten into me?” You spit out. “Nothing, Jack. Nothing at all. It’s just that I realized you don’t feel half as much about me as I do about you, and surprisingly enough, that doesn’t make me feel the greatest.”
He’s silent, reeling in place. You shake your head slowly. “See, this is why I didn’t want to do all this. Just forget it, alright?”
You try to move past, but Jack’s hand snaps out, weaving around you and blocking your path. “I had no idea you felt like that,” he says softly. “I would have said something sooner, sweetheart, I promise. All this time, I’ve been thinking you didn’t like me that much, so I didn’t want to say something stupid like I love you since I thought it would scare you off. If I had known–” he breaks off in a quiet half-laugh, then continues, “–if I had known that’s what you thought, I would have told you a lot more about just how you make me feel.”
Suddenly, it seems to take a lot of effort to speak again. The weight of your surprise hangs against your throat, slowing the syllables. “You love me?”
“More than anything,” he smiles. “Enough that I didn’t want to hear you say you didn’t love me when I knew how much I loved you. I never asked what you wanted, and I assumed you didn’t want a serious relationship.”
“I want you,” you tell him. He beams.
“And I want you, sweetheart.” In Jack’s arms, it’s easy to forgive him. This has all been a simple misunderstanding, and the greater truth is far lovelier than you could have ever hoped. Maybe you will go out with him tonight after all, tonight and every night until forever. The stars will shine sweetly overhead and you will be happy. With Jack, you think you always will be.
now you see me tag list: @mayfieldss
all tags list: @wordsarelife
155 notes · View notes
bob-frank451 · 1 year ago
Text
Humans Are Weird: Pack Bonding
Archivists note to the reader: It seems you are viewing this item in the human language English. For this reason names have been transliterated, units have been converted, and the content has been ontologically translated. Apologies for any inconsistencies.
----------------------------------------------
Ziet rounded the corner of the shuttle carefully, the human and the second deathworlder following close behind. The shuttle was only to be docked for a little under sixty minutes, left empty for less than fifteen, and unguarded for a mere seven.
There! The cockpit hatch! She reached a tendril toward the handle, but before she could open it the door opened by itself, revealing a short, but defiantly menacing individual holding a nasty looking weapon. Ziet froze in horror, before speaking frantically, the normal perfection of her grammar lost to the urgency of the moment.
“Kakia! Please just let us go, you’ll never need to see me again.”
The individuals mouth stretched into a wide, unnatural imitation of a human’s grin.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my old,’ she spat out the word, “friend. Ziet, the highly esteemed logistics technician, how are you? And what are you doing with the recently escaped, and even more recently declared dead prisoners?”
She focused her weapon at Ziet. On a human’s face a grin can be cheery. In the rest of the universe that grin is taunting, threatening, menacing.
“Please just let us go, please. Please?”
“With the price on their head? With the human ambassador to the GA right here? Why, that would be treason.”
She leaned in close, close enough that the puff of breath that accompanied each word ruffed the fur on Ziet’s face.
“And you, my wonderful, treasonous colleague, here, at my mercy?”
The grin stretched wider, more teeth appearing, ivory white. The words came exaggerated, theatrical.
“It was self defense. She attacked me with the deathworlders. She committed treason.”
Ziet recognized the weapon, specifically the three white dots on the side, and her blood ran cold.
“You’re right about one thing Ziet.”
Her grip tightened on the trigger.
“I’ll never have to see you again.”
The human lunged for the weapon, but no race in the universe was that fast. Ziet felt an impact against her chest, and then a horrible anticipation, like the moment between an injury, and the inevitable agony it would cause. No! Please no! Then malice, pure hatred, flooded through her from the point of impact, coursing through her veins, attacking every nerve and cell in her body. She felt the thaumutic energy in her system recoil, and than start to fight the attacker, but the attacker was sly, and as each pulse of power attacked it was converted, joining the ever-growing tide of hatred and pain. Her body decided that it wasn’t going to win this fight, and instead chose to jettison the power through whatever route necessary.
The human watched in horror as his friend was shot by the attacker, this Kakia person. Ziet’s eyes went out for a moment as the latent entropic energy was called inwards for the battle, and than shone with the power of a spotlight as pure energy was dumped en mass. This wasn’t fast enough however, and more and more energy poured out. It started to leak from her mouth, then nostrils, and then it started to leak through her skin as thousands of amps of power were discharged. The entire volatus was shining with the brilliance of the sun, and nobody in the entire shuttle could see anything but white.
Just as quickly as the light had started it stopped, and the volatus fell to the floor like a spent battery. Kakia uncovered her eyes, and grinned at the human, raising the weapon for a second shot, but the human was already charging. She fired and fired, but had only time to learn one thing before the human’s vengeful body slammed into her own.
Humans don’t use magic.
Ziet felt the weight of several jumpsuits rapped around her. She knew they were jumpsuits because of the wafting smell of Squalus detergent, the brand used to wash clothing inside the personnel wing of the spaceport. There was a gentle tap on her cloak, over her left shoulder. She felt another. Tap. Tap. Tap. Then hand shook her, and she obligingly opened her eyes. There was the human, crouched before her, eyes locked on her face. The eyes were leaking, clear fluid running over the human’s flat face, and dripping off his nose and chin. Behind the human lay the crumpled form of Kakia, a rivulet of dark fluid leaking from the corner of one eye. The human had bound her with another jumpsuit, so presumably she had survived her first encounter with a deathworlder.
“Ziet? Can you hear me?”
The human was still looking at her, and she noticed now that his breathing was erratic, and saw proper fear in those alien eyes.
“I can”
The human’s mouth turned into a grin, a grin that spoke to intense relief, as well as to the effort the human was putting into not showing teeth.
“You ok?”
The Volatus pondered this question. She felt gutted. Every ounce of strength had left her body. She couldn’t even feel the slightest scrap of power in her system. Her head hurt, terribly, and nothing came to relieve the pain. But she was ‘ok’.
“I’m ok”
She winced at the grammar.
“Sorry, I am going to be fine.”
“I’m glad. You scared us. I was so worried”
“Where are we?”
“Flying. He says he can.” The human pointed a limb toward the second deathworlder sitting in the cockpit across the room. “We leave the air five minutes. In five minutes, sorry”
The volatus felt a wry happiness settle over her, despite the fatigue that overwhelmed her The human’s grammar was improving. The human reached beside him and produced the weapon Kakia had shot them with.
“What’s this?”
Ziet didn’t need to study the weapon to answer the question.
“It’s a malice gun, made by Simplicity. It’s like a computer virus.”
The human gestured to himself.
“I’m ok”
“It works by converting the thaumutic energy in your system, and I don’t think humans have any.”
“Oh”
They waited in silence for a moment.
The other deathworlder, the one piloting the shuttle, grunted a single word, the only word it had learnt of galactic common so far.
“Hey!”
The bio-luminescence on its arms lit up, and the human watched the flickering pattern closely, before saying a single word.
“Space!’
The volatus glanced towards the cabin window, and saw the blue curve of her home shrinking. Soon it would be a full circle against a black canvas, painted with thousands of stars. Then it would faded away into the distance completely.
She was free.
Ao3 Discord
199 notes · View notes
faewrenbird · 4 days ago
Note
Following based off the Miquella v. Mohg Wars post. 😅
As a Mohg defender, dear god the amount of insufferability makes me hate Miquella's character even more. With the amount of hostility shown toward Mohg it leads me to believe Miquella's way worse.
I'm sure the other side thinks the same of "team Mohg." But Mohg ultimately isn't the final boss, is he?
-Deep Breath-
I honestly don't believe Mohg was wholly good. Nor was Miquella wholly evil. But the amount or hatred toward Mohg is at a point where, imo, it's cruel. And does carry an air of "victim blame" akin to "the Hornsent deserved it."
Likewise, Miquella's intentions may have been good. But the glossing over of the evils he did to get what he wanted is gross. And a little disconcerting...
Mohg might not have been a good guy. But... Ultimately he did deserve better. As Ansbach says. And I really hate how that message sort of flew over peoples heads.
I try not to let the fandom poison my perception of any of the characters, so I don’t hate Miquella by any means, but for some reason the two most worn out topics of debate in this fandom are Mohg v Miquella and Radahn x Miquella. And to me it really does feel sincerely bizarre for there to even be debates there at all. Try as I may, I can’t wrap my head around it. And I think maybe it’s just…people getting too entrenched in fandom/lore that they forget the context of the entire game?
There’s just absolutely nothing in the game that is ever established as good or evil. Arguably the Flame of Frenzy, I suppose? But even then, is it true evil to purge a world that’s so corrupted that it’s unrecognizable? Okay, there’s the Dung Eater, that’s probably as close to true evil as we get—and even then, the idea is to make everything fully corrupted so that it’s the standard and thus nothing is corrupted. “If everyone’s a super, no one is” type of thing.
The whole entire endeavor and struggle of the game is us playing as a person touched by the corruption who is fighting against corruption to become the master of it and decide what to do with that corruption. Spread it? Eradicate it and start new? Contain it? Convert it? Ignore it?
How can you look at the major themes of the game and think that anything in it is concrete black and white, good and evil? The demigods represent the initial struggle against the corruption and subsequent failure to do shit about it. We’re forced to look in the face of each of their failures, and that’s supposed to influence us on what we choose to do to try not to be another failed attempt to change fate.
Mohg is interesting because his method to change things was to subjugate the forces of corruption and cleanse it all in blood. I think maybe this imagery (goat man, blood sacrifice = Satan) lends people to have a really negative perception of him. But if you look at blood neutrally, it’s not something evil or grotesque, it’s the life force of all living things (which I personally believe the Formless Mother represents). Mohg is calling for a return to that nature, that connection. And that is extremely far from evil!!!
The problem is that he wasn’t exempt from the effects of this “corruption,” so his goals of course take on a sinister edge. Blood, which could have been holy and obtained through non-murderous means, becomes acquired only through murder.
Never is this more apparent to me than in the distinction between the Pureblood Knights and the Bloody Fingers. The Knights seem like an older faction of Mohg’s, from a younger time when blood was revered, when the worship and intentions of it were pure. But Mohg became twisted and it reflects in the Bloody Finger descriptions and how they became murderous and frenzied because of his own tainted blood.
And these are things that existed before Miquella’s influence, or at least overlapping later with it.
This is getting stupid long so I won’t psychoanalyze Miquella and peel apart his themes but he’s a corrupted failure, too. We actually get to see the stages of his corruption in detail, unlike any other demigods. He had good and innocent intentions, but slowly became warped enough that he was okay with abandoning his heart and ability to love (potentially through violent means aka pushing her off a cliff). And it just so happens that his brand of corruption benefitted real damn well from Mohg’s. He took advantage of Mohg’s corruption with his own, their good goals complimenting each other. Mohg wants purity, Miquella can make purity happen. But the desire for purity becomes obsession, and the power of purity becomes manipulation.
All that rambling to say that Mohg wasn’t a saint when Miquella charmed him. Miquella wasn’t either! They were both just already twisted beyond recognition and, unfortunately for Mohg, Miquella had the upper hand.
I think that Ansbach, while clearly biased, saw beyond the impurities that infected Mohg. In fact, he seems incredibly adept at seeing through to the heart of things. He recognized Mohg for his desire for purity and his reverence towards the warmth that connects people rather than dividing them (which is actually quite ironic when compared to Morgott, they actually end up being the inverse of one another in a subverting expectations sort of way but ahem that’s a different convo). Ansbach supported that part of Mohg, and supported his goals too! But he didn’t support the way his goals got twisted and corrupted.
He’s right. Mohg did deserve better. Although, I truly believe that could be said for all of the demigods. None of them asked to be turned into the monsters they became. None of them wanted the world to be destroyed. None of them wanted to lose themselves, and that’s the real tragedy of it all. Every single demigod is already dead when we reach them. The people they once were and all of their good intentions are already dead, including Miquella and Prime Consort Radahn.
It’s supposed to gut us. It’s supposed to show us the cost of failure and just how fucked up this world is. It’s supposed to be a warning that we could be no better. It’s supposed to enforce that we are the only hope left for anything but this.
And when we stroll our asses up to the Elden Beast, it’s supposed to be with the fury and vengeance and loss of ALL of those demigods.
There’s no good and evil. There’s literally only a struggle against a cosmic power and the infection it spread on a once normal world.
10 notes · View notes