#voidful/context-only-question-generator

[wehavealwayslived]

Am I dreaming, or did you just kiss me?

Theodore Nott x female reader

Synopsis: A party neither of you wanted to attend. A balcony, a cigarette, and years of tension finally snapping.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+), Party setting / mild alcohol use, Smoking (cigarettes), Enemies to lovers / rivals to lovers, Mutual pining, Oral sex (f. receiving), Unprotected sex (Potion as birth control mentioned), Praise kink / dirty talk, Rough sex, making out, banter but it’s playful

A/N: not much of a story just smut. Another attempt at writing smut from me.

The music inside the manor was deafening, bass-heavy and reeking of too many drunk Hogwarts students trying to relive glory days they hadn’t yet earned. You didn’t even know who was throwing the party. All you knew was that your friends had dragged you out of bed, forced a tight dress on you, and poured two Firewhiskeys into your hand before vanishing into the void of sweaty bodies and spilled drinks.

You didn’t like parties.

But you did like the view from the balcony.

And, apparently, so did he.

Theodore Nott was leaning against the stone railing, one hand resting in the pocket of his dark slacks, the other holding a cigarette between two long fingers. The ember glowed softly in the dark, illuminating the sharp angle of his cheekbones, the sleepy tilt of his half-lidded eyes, and the slight curl of smoke escaping his parted lips.

He looked like sin with a pulse.

“Didn’t peg you for the social type,” you said, stepping outside.

He didn’t look at you right away, just took a slow drag and exhaled. The smoke curled between you, and you hated the way you loved the scent of it. Sharp, bitter, and undeniably him.

“Didn’t peg you for the type to wear that dress,” he said, finally glancing sideways.

You raised a brow. “That a compliment or just you being a dick?”

His lips curled around the cigarette. “Why can’t it be both?”

God, he was insufferable.

The two of you had been at odds since third year—always battling for the top spot in every class, always arguing about theories in Arithmancy, always sitting on opposite sides of the room like opposing war generals. It wasn’t hatred. Not really. But it wasn’t friendly, either.

And yet… you always noticed him. The way he mumbled brilliant thoughts under his breath during lectures. The way he smelled like ink and mint and smoke. The way he slouched like he didn’t care but answered every question with quiet confidence.

“Didn’t know you smoked,” you said, sliding closer, bracing your elbows on the stone beside him.

“Didn’t know you noticed me,” he replied, voice smooth and low.

You turned toward him fully, your hip brushing his. “Please. I outscored you last week. Of course I noticed.”

He gave you a crooked smile, the cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers. “Only because I let you.”

You scoffed. “Right. I’m sure you wanted to come second.”

Theo’s gaze dropped, lingering on your lips for just a moment too long. “Depends on the context.”

Your breath caught.

The air between you shifted.

He was close now, closer than he’d ever been, and you could see the smoke clinging to his collar, smell the soft spice of whatever cologne he wore beneath it. His hair was a little messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and the way his eyes lingered on you made your skin feel hot despite the cold night air.

“You’re drunk,” you said, even though your own head was buzzing with more than just alcohol.

“Maybe.” He flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette, watching it float down to the garden below. “Maybe I’m just tired of pretending I don’t think about you so much I’m losing my mind”

Your heart stuttered. “That sounded like a confession.”

Theo turned to face you fully, and you could see the flush rising up his neck beneath the moonlight. “Take it however you want.”

You didn’t answer.

You just leaned in, slowly, tentatively, until your mouth was brushing his, soft as a breath, waiting for him to pull away.

He didn’t.

He surged.

Theo’s mouth met yours like a match to dry paper, hot and sudden, the kiss messy and uncoordinated in the best way. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling you closer, and you tasted smoke and mint and something darker on his tongue as he groaned into your mouth.

You clutched his hoodie, nails digging into the fabric as his mouth moved over yours like he was starving. The railing dug into your back, but you didn’t care. All you could feel was him, his lean body pressing into yours, the hard line of his arousal against your stomach, the way he kissed like he was furious with himself for wanting you this badly.

When he pulled back, eyes glassy and lips swollen, he muttered, “Am I dreaming, or did you just kiss me?”

Your answer was a whisper against his lips, breathless “Do you want me to stop?”

Theo didn’t speak. He just took your hand.

The common room was spinning with sound and light and bodies, but none of it touched you. Not when he was leading you up the stairs, his fingers locked through yours like he didn’t dare let go. The hallways were quieter, darker, and by the time he pushed open the door to his dorm room and shut it behind you with a soft click, it felt like the whole world had narrowed to just this.

He turned to look at you. Just look.

His eyes, stormy and burning at once, drank you in. The dress. The flushed skin. The way you leaned against the door, chest rising and falling in anticipation. His hoodie was still slung over one shoulder, cigarette smell lingering in the cotton. The tension snapped between you again, louder than the music downstairs.

You didn’t speak.

You just moved.

The kiss came fast. Teeth, tongue, hands, urgent in that way that only comes from years of quiet want. Theo shoved his hoodie off and your hands were immediately on the hem of his shirt, dragging it up over his head. He was lean beneath it, subtle muscle, toned from Quidditch and wiry with tension. You kissed down his neck as your fingers fumbled with his belt, and he let out a low, desperate sound that made your knees weak.

“Fuck—” he muttered when you palmed him through his trousers. “You’re not playing fair.”

“You started it.”

Theo backed you toward his bed, and when the back of your thighs hit the mattress, he pushed you down with a gentle but insistent pressure. He dropped to his knees between your legs and dragged your dress up slowly, kissing the inside of your thighs with maddening patience. His fingers slid up your calves, your thighs, until he reached the edge of your panties, and paused.

He looked up.

“Can I?”

You nodded, breathless.

Theo slid your underwear down with deliberate slowness, his knuckles brushing your skin, his mouth open as he took in the sight of you. Then he leaned in, and the first flick of his tongue against your clit made your hips jerk.

He didn’t stop.

He licked you slow, like he was savouring every second, every moan, every tremble. His tongue moved in soft, lazy circles, then faster, rougher, pressing in with more force as he learned what made you shiver. You were already soaked, and when he slipped two fingers inside you, curling them just right, you gasped so loud he groaned against you.

“Fuck, you taste—” he dragged his tongue lower, teasing, then back up. “Even better than I imagined.”

You grabbed his hair, eyes rolling back as he fucked you with his fingers and tongue, coaxing you higher and higher until you were right on the edge, body arched, thighs trembling, mouth falling open.

“Come for me,” he murmured, “Let go. Let me feel it.”

You broke.

Your orgasm slammed through you with a cry, hips bucking, body shaking, and Theo didn’t stop until he’d dragged every last wave from you. Only then did he pull back, mouth glistening, eyes dark and ravenous.

He stood, dragging off his trousers, then his briefs, and you stared, wanting him in a way that made your stomach knot. He was thick and flushed, already leaking at the tip, and when he crawled over you again, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress, your whole body sang.

“I don’t have a condom,” he said, voice strained.

“I’m on the potion,” you whispered. “I want to feel you.”

Theo groaned and lined himself up, the head of his cock dragging through your folds. He eased in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you until he was fully seated inside.

“Holy—fuck, you’re—so tight,” he rasped, forehead dropping to your shoulder.

You clutched at his back, his hips, needing more. When he started to move, it was slow at first, rolling thrusts that hit deep and low, grinding in a way that made stars bloom behind your eyes.

Then he snapped his hips forward.

You gasped, your nails dragging down his back.

“That good?” he asked, breathless.

“So good—Theo, fuck, please don’t stop—”

He didn’t. He fucked you hard and deep, one hand gripping your thigh and pressing it up so he could get even deeper. Every thrust knocked the breath out of you, and you were so wet, so full, the sounds were obscene.

Theo kissed you again, desperate and messy, his tongue fucking into your mouth the same way he fucked into you. You felt him everywhere, inside and out, all slick heat and tension and hunger.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb dragging over your cheek.

“Been dreaming of this,” he panted, hips slamming into yours. “Dreaming of you. Every fucking night.”

You could barely speak, barely breathe.

“I—I’m gonna—” you tried.

Theo nodded, pressing his forehead to yours. “Come with me.”

He reached between you, rubbed your clit just right, and you shattered—pussy clenching around him, body locking up as pleasure ripped through you. Theo groaned your name, fucked into you a couple more times, then came with a guttural sound, spilling deep inside you.

For a long minute, neither of you moved.

You just lay there, tangled, gasping, your legs still trembling, his cock still inside you.

[tinolqa]

god I haven't mentioned it enough here. Myths of the Realm is my enemy. easily my least favorite 24-man- or rather it's my least favorite raid series of either type.

probably made worse by pandaemonium being genuinely very good? the contrast was stark.

weak answer to the question of the twelve's nature, very unambitious and mediocre visual designs that were largely too married to visual fidelity to boring statues and card designs. some real disney's hercules shit. there were some innovative or appealing elements here and there: nald'thal was genuinely great visually and conceptually, I actually respect the concept of making menphina a magical girl instead of a generically hotsexy love goddess, byregot's halo of nails, uh... the models for thalaos and perykos looked good? but overall they were a bunch of very boring idealized humans.

and my god eulogia is the ugliest thing. eulogia might actually be the most hideous execution of a concept in the game yet, you might as well just clip all of the models of the twelve into each other and play their animations at once and get the same effect. zero elegance, zero thoughtful design. it's actually shocking to see in a game where we got perfect omega as a raid boss once upon a time. even eden's promise, while superficially a hot mess, is a hot mess because it pays homage to extant depictions of artemis! art history is why it looks like that! eulogia looks like the artists were asked to recreate knife dad from monster factory using ffxiv assets.

and you might ask, well, are the mechanics of the fights better than the boss designs? absolutely not. week one aglaia was a little fun, because there being a chance of failure to people not knowing the trick of the meteors in the rhalgr fight or panicking during the nald'thal scales instead of just deliberately failing the mechanic to waste everyone's time. gear creep destroyed any chance of interacting with most of the fun bits of aglaia, and they didn't repeat that "mistake" in the other two, which were boring and easy from the jump. just an absolute void of challenge or chaos. why even bother putting mechanics into your raid at that point, apparently that's only for savage.

and the rewards... boy I hope you like ugly yellow-gold saint seiya armor and generic draping faux-hellenistic robes and vague suggestions of togas. I hope you fucking gluttons for endless less-problematic rehashes of ancient greek mythology like gaudy costume jewelry and sandals and meaningless neoclassical flourishes. did you want gear that might look like something your character would wear in a city they've visited or that has a connection to a historical aesthetic? I guess if you make believe you can stretch a tenuous bond from this tacky armor to the uniform robes and masks of the ancients. ostensibly. since we all know the ancients didn't have a societal taboo about ornamentation or making your clothes individualized or anything.

so what did we achieve? did we learn anything? turns out the twelve were real all along, but also powerless except in the specific context of having flashy anime duels with the warrior of light. it's VERY important that we say they aren't primals, because primals are only summoned by primitive subhumans like the ixal and the garleans. but we do need you to fight them to return their aether to the star because... they're definitely not primals! no. not primals. primals are fake gods, and the twelve are *aetheric constructs* based on *real people* made by *hydaelyn*, which means they're good and Not Primals. the mechanic by which they visually reflect the beliefs of their followers? definitely not the same as the one that does that for primals. their nebulous dependence on the faith of eorzeans? totally unrelated to primals, because it's apparently important for the ego of the players that *their* god is real and not fake, which makes them ontologically good and righteous.

and it's definitely satisfying to find out that the goddess whose name gave weight and gravity to the reveal of the warrior of light's past incarnation and their name... is called that because she was a failed candidate for that role? she's a consolation prize sun goddess?

for that matter it's definitely satisfying to find out that the twelve are just recreations of venat's boring ancient friends, who are largely nameless and have no significance to you or your interaction with the past aside from a mediocre sidequest. oh it's so thrilling to know that the god of crafting used to be hytholdaeus's coworker. this would mean so much to me if he had any role in the setting beyond a skill name and a rock sitting in an overworld zone.

admittedly it would also suck for the reveal to be "actually eorzea's gods did create the world and are all-powerful, boy it sure is silly that those delusional foreigners are out here worshipping kami and manusya and mrga and primals which are all FAKE, as opposed to us (non-beastman) eorzeans who have the literal mandate of heaven"

but surely there's a more elegant solution (ambiguity, leaving questions instead of a glut of answers, not making this raid series at all). was this really the best they could come up with?

[seungminsbaldspot]

Six Years, Five months and Two days | FIVE X READER

pairing: five hargreaves x reader

Word Count: 3843

Genre: angst

General Notes: Lila x Five did happen here folks :/, sexual themes, crude language, this does not correlate with whatever happens during seasons 4 other than Lila and Five jumping into a different timeline together for seven years, Reader is referred to as female and wife

Trigger Warnings:, Infidelity: References to a character cheating and the emotional impact it causes, Emotional Betrayal: Feelings of trust being broken and the pain of betrayal, Toxic Relationship Dynamics: Depiction of a complicated and strained relationship, with emotional manipulation and conflicting feelings, Emotional Turmoil: Intense emotions of anger, sadness, frustration, and regret, Unresolved Grief: Characters grappling with loss and the potential end of a long-term relationship, Verbal Conflict: Arguments and heated exchanges between characters, Emotional Manipulation: Attempt by a character to sway or emotionally influence another through their actions or words, Physical Intimacy Amidst Conflict: Depictions of physical closeness that occurs within the context of unresolved emotional pain, Feelings of Guilt and Shame: Characters experiencing intense regret and self-blame for their actions, Unwanted Advances: Physical intimacy that happens despite conflicting feelings, creating a sense of discomfort, and Psychological Distress: Expressions of mental strain, confusion, and fear of loss.

Author’s note: only one more part left !!

Taglist:(comment if you wanna be added) @fate-posts @zukki33 @nightfurya @lethergy @wingoodlilboymyway @hxllhxund @stxrg3m @bigbobass

Spoiler: All you get is, there will be a part 5

Click here for the next part, Part Five, The finale!

Click here for the previous part, Part Three!

The break has honestly been strange. Five and you no longer speak, but the echoes of what you once had still linger. The house feels emptier, quieter, as if the absence of his presence has created a void that you can't quite fill. It's not just the lack of his voice or the absence of his touch—it's the way everything feels muted, as if the color has drained from your world.

Every day, you find yourself staring at him for far too long. When he's in the same room, it feels like an invisible tether pulls your gaze toward him. You catch glimpses of his familiar profile, the curve of his jaw, the way his hands move when he's deep in thought. There’s a haunting familiarity in his every gesture—a painful reminder of all the moments you shared, now tainted by betrayal and uncertainty.

He avoids your eyes, and you do the same, but the awareness of each other is a constant, almost unbearable presence. When you do accidentally meet his gaze, there’s a flicker of something—a brief, intense exchange of emotions neither of you can fully articulate. It's a mixture of longing, regret, and an unspoken understanding that things will never be the same.

Sometimes, you see him lingering in the hallway or catching a glimpse of you from across the room, his expression unreadable. You wonder if he's feeling the same emptiness, the same strange, hollow ache that you do. You wonder if he misses you—or if he’s relieved that you're giving each other space.

At night, you lie awake, listening to the silence, the emptiness of the bed beside you a stark reminder of what you’ve lost. You think about all the things you wish you could say to him—the questions that plague your mind, the confessions that weigh heavily on your heart. But the distance between you feels like a chasm, and you’re not sure how to bridge it.

You try to focus on other things, to distract yourself from the constant pull towards him. But it’s hard when he’s always there, just out of reach. It's like trying to forget a song that’s been stuck in your head for weeks—you can’t help but hum the tune, even when you don’t want to.

You sigh, trying to busy yourself in your room, cleaning, organizing—anything to occupy your mind. But no matter how many times you rearrange the shelves or sort through your clothes, you can’t escape the thoughts that consume you. Every task feels hollow, every moment a reminder of what you’re trying to avoid.

The days stretch on, each one blending into the next, a monotonous blur of empty hours and restless nights. You find yourself staring out the window, watching the world go by, feeling disconnected from everything around you. The silence in the house is deafening, broken only by the sound of your own thoughts, circling endlessly in your mind.

You try to focus on anything other than him, but it’s hard when his presence is everywhere. You catch glimpses of him in the hallway, the way he lingers by the door as if waiting for something—maybe for you to speak, maybe for a sign that things could go back to the way they were. But you’re not sure if that’s even possible anymore.

You hear a knock on your door. You sigh, a wave of nausea rolling over you. It seems like every time someone knocks at your bedroom door, that feeling of dread rises up in your throat, threatening to choke you. You already know who it is—there’s only one person who would bother to knock softly, who would linger just outside, hesitating before making his presence known.

For a moment, you consider ignoring it, pretending you’re not there. Maybe he’ll go away, maybe he’ll take the hint. But another knock, a little firmer this time, breaks the silence again, and you realize he’s not going to leave.

You drag yourself to the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. Your hand hesitates on the doorknob, your heart pounding in your chest. You take a deep breath and pull the door open, bracing yourself for whatever comes next.

Five stands there, his expression uncertain, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what you might be feeling. “Hey,” he says quietly, his voice strained and tired.

You nod in acknowledgment, standing awkwardly with your hand still gripping the edge of the door. The silence stretches between you, heavy with everything left unsaid. You want to ask him why he’s here, what he wants, but the words stick in your throat. It’s like every time you see him, your heart remembers both the love and the betrayal, and it’s paralyzing.

Five shifts his weight, glancing down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at you. “I—um, Lila got the paternity test done,” he stammers, the words hanging in the air like a loaded gun.

Your breath catches in your throat. “And?” you manage to ask, your voice barely above a whisper, dreading the answer but needing to know.

Five swallows hard, his face tense. "It’s Diego’s," he finally says, his voice soft but steady. "The baby... it’s Diego’s."

A rush of relief floods through you, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the complicated mess of emotions that follow. Anger, hurt, betrayal—they’re all still there, simmering just beneath the surface. You don’t know what to say, what to feel.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your grip loosening on the doorknob. “Okay,” you whisper, your voice shaking with a mix of emotions you can’t quite name. Five takes a small step forward, his eyes searching yours, hoping for some sign of what you’re thinking.

“Is there... is there any chance we could try to start over?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of vulnerability and longing. You scrunch your eyes closed, a sigh escaping your lips. “Five, we’ve been together for decades,” you say, your voice heavy with emotion, “and you threw it all away for a few years of mistakes.”

He sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I know. I know all too fucking well,” he replies, his voice thick with regret. The silence that follows is charged with the weight of everything unsaid, the enormity of what’s been lost hanging heavily between you.

After a long, tense pause, he finally breaks the silence. “Am I going to lose you?” His voice trembles, a raw edge of fear and desperation cutting through his words. You close your eyes, thinking.

You close your eyes, the weight of his question settling heavily on your shoulders. He’s your first—and only—love. He’s your husband, at least for now. The history you share, the memories, the years of life intertwined, all come rushing back, making it nearly impossible to think clearly.

You take a deep breath, trying to sift through the tangled emotions. “I.. Give me a reason not to leave.” you say, your voice trembling with a mix of hope and desperation.

Five’s eyes widen slightly, a flicker of relief mixed with uncertainty crossing his face. He takes a step closer, his gaze earnest and intense. “Because I’m still in love with you,” he says softly, his voice cracking with emotion.

You shake your head, your resolve firm despite the turmoil inside. “That’s not good enough,” you reply, your voice tinged with frustration.

He sighs deeply, the weight of your words sinking in. Without hesitation, he steps forward and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you gently towards him. His touch sends a jolt through you, a mix of familiar comfort and renewed uncertainty. You want to push him away, to maintain the distance you’ve worked hard to create, but your body betrays you, leaning into his touch despite your better judgment.

“Then prove it,” you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of challenge and longing. “Show me that you’re willing to fight for us, to rebuild what we’ve lost.”

His grip tightens slightly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that speaks of his determination and desperation. “I will,” he promises, his voice raw with sincerity. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Just... please, give me a chance to show you.

You sigh, the weight of his plea settling heavily on your shoulders. You nod slowly, the gesture filled with a mix of reluctant hope and cautious optimism. Five’s eyes soften with a flicker of relief, and before you can react, he leans in and kisses you.

The kiss is both tender and desperate, a blend of old familiarity and new vulnerability. It’s as if he’s trying to pour all his regrets, his hopes, and his love into that one moment. You feel a whirlwind of emotions—familiarity mingling with unresolved pain, love clashing with hurt. His lips linger against yours, seeking connection, reassurance, and redemption.

When he finally pulls away, his gaze is steady, filled with a mixture of hope and fear. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll show you—I promise.”

Before you can fully grasp his words, his lips are on yours again. His kiss deepens, passionate and urgent, as if he's trying to convey all the words left unsaid. You find yourself responding, your body remembering the familiar rhythm of his touch. This kiss is different—it's not like those nights when your anger and lust drove you to call him to your room, at least it didn't feel like it.

He pushes you back into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. His hands move to the hem of your shirt, fingers grazing the delicate fabric as he lifts it gently. The rustle of the material and the cool air against your skin send a shiver down your spine. His gaze is intense, a blend of desire and reverence as his eyes meet yours, silently asking for permission to proceed.

You hesitate for a moment, your heart racing with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. But as you look into Five's eyes, you see a depth of emotion that makes your resolve waver. Slowly, you nod, giving him the permission he seeks. His hands move with a gentle reverence, carefully lifting your shirt over your head, his fingers trailing along your skin as if rediscovering a long-lost treasure.

It’s different, different from then when you’d fuck him out of anger.

This time, there's a tenderness in his touch, a vulnerability in his eyes that speaks of regret and a desperate desire to make things right. As he leans in to kiss you again, you feel the weight of your shared history, the pain of recent betrayals, and a flickering hope for redemption all tangled together. His lips move against yours with a gentle urgency, as if he's trying to convey all the words he couldn't say, all the promises he wants to keep.

His hands move with practiced ease, cupping your covered breast with a gentle yet confident touch. The familiar gesture sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of anticipation and lingering uncertainty. With deft fingers, he skillfully unclasps your bra, the soft click of the fastener echoing in the charged silence between you. The fabric falls away, exposing your skin to the cool air, and you can't help but feel a flutter of vulnerability.

Five's touch is a paradox - both achingly familiar and thrillingly new. His fingers trace delicate patterns across your skin, each caress charged with a potent blend of longing and silent apology. The pads of his fingers find your nipples, pinching them with just the right amount of pressure. It's a testament to your shared history, to all the intimate moments that have led to this perfect knowledge of your body. He's learned exactly how you like to be touched, during your time as fuck-buddies.

His lips begin a slow, sensuous journey down your neck, leaving a trail of soft, feather-light kisses in their wake. Each press of his lips against your skin ignites a spark of pleasure, making you shiver with growing desire. Despite the turmoil still swirling in your mind, your body responds to him instinctively, arching into his touch, seeking more of that exquisite contact.

Five's hands continue their gentle exploration, tracing the familiar contours of your body with a reverence that feels almost sacred. His touch is both an apology and a confession, filled with a passionate yearning to make things right. Each caress is an unspoken plea for forgiveness, as if he's trying to mend the fractures between you with the softness of his fingertips, attempting to rebuild the trust and intimacy that’s been shattered.

As his lips move against your neck, pressing soft kisses along your skin, you find yourself drifting back in time, remembering the first time you met. It hadn’t been like this. Far from it. You were rivals then, each too proud and stubborn to admit any attraction that simmered just beneath the surface of your bickering. You had hated him for his arrogance, his sharp wit that always seemed to cut too deep. But underneath all that resentment was a spark—one you had tried so hard to ignore.

And now, here you were, years later, both of you changed by time, by mistakes, by love, and by loss. The spark that once ignited between you had turned into a raging fire, burning everything in its path, leaving nothing untouched. You wonder if it’s possible to start over, to rebuild from the ashes of what was lost, or if this is just another attempt to grasp at something that can never be fully restored.

You think about the hurt—the betrayal that cut deeper than you ever thought possible. He slept with someone he’s known for far less time than he’s known you. The fucker made you his wife and still never touched you until after he had been with someone else—during your marriage, no less. The thought twists in your gut like a knife, the pain raw and fresh.

Your eyes clench shut, trying to push away the memories, the images that flicker behind your eyelids like a cruel reminder. The way his lips move against your skin now, the softness of his touch—it starts to burn. What once felt familiar and safe now feels foreign, wrong, tainted by everything that’s happened. You want to lose yourself in the comfort of his arms, to forget the betrayal, but the reality of it is too stark, too present.

The conflict within you intensifies with every passing second, each touch from Five a painful reminder of the two worlds you now inhabit—one built on years of love and shared memories, and the other tainted by betrayal and broken trust. His hands move with a tenderness that used to soothe you, but now they only stir up old wounds. You’re caught between the familiar comfort of his embrace and the urge to push him away, to protect yourself from more pain.

Your breath quickens as you try to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions. You can’t just forget what happened, but the thought of losing him entirely is terrifying. You’re not sure if you can keep doing this, living in the middle ground between love and hate, between wanting to forgive and needing to protect yourself.

“Stop,” you whisper, your voice shaky. You press your hands against his chest, pushing him back. He stops immediately, his brows furrowing with confusion.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice soft, cautious.

You struggle to find the words, your chest tight with emotion. “I don’t know if I can do this,” you finally say, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t know if I can forget... or forgive.” Five looks at you, his expression earnest. “Come on, can’t we just, I don’t know, move on? People make mistakes, right?”

The words hit you like a slap to the face. Your eyes widen in disbelief, anger bubbling up inside you. “Move on?” you repeat, your voice rising. “Are you fucking serious right now? You think I can just ‘move on’ from you cheating on me?”

Five’s face falls, realizing his mistake, but he tries to backtrack. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Then how did you mean it?” you snap, your anger flaring. “You think this is something I can just get over? Like it’s some minor bump in the road?”

He opens his mouth, but no words come out. He looks lost, like he’s trying to find the right thing to say but is coming up empty. “I just... I didn’t want things to stay like this,” he finally mutters, sounding defeated.

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Of course you didn’t. It’s inconvenient for you, isn’t it? Dealing with the consequences of your actions.”

He steps back, a look of guilt and frustration crossing his face. “I know I fucked up, okay? I’m trying here, I just... I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe start by not saying something so fucking stupid,” you retort, your voice sharp.

Five winces, his eyes dropping to the floor, shame evident in every line of his posture. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal. I know it is. I know I hurt you.”

You shake your head, feeling the sting of fresh tears threatening to spill. “You still don’t get it,” you say, your voice cracking with a mix of anger and pain. “This isn’t just about hurting me, Five. This is about breaking something I thought was unbreakable. And you think I can just...move past that?”

He runs a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. “I don’t know what else to say,” he admits, his voice strained. “I’m trying to make this right, but I keep screwing up. I don’t know how to fix this.”

You let out a bitter laugh, wiping away a stray tear. “Maybe you can’t,” you reply, your tone blunt and unforgiving. “Maybe there’s no fixing this. Maybe you’ve already done all the damage you can.”

Five’s face crumples, a mix of frustration and desperation etched across his features. He opens his mouth to speak, then hesitates. You can see the internal battle playing out in his mind, his jaw clenching as if he's holding back something important. Finally, he lets out a breath, his shoulders slumping as he confesses, “I... I still have feelings for Lila.”

The air leaves your lungs as if you’ve been punched in the stomach. You take a step back, your hands trembling. “What?” The word comes out barely above a whisper, but it’s loaded with shock and disbelief.

He raises his hands in a placating gesture, panic flaring in his eyes. “It’s not what you think—I don’t want to be with her, but after everything… I don’t know how to just shut off those feelings. I thought maybe if we could move on, if I could focus on us—”

You cut him off, your voice rising with a newfound fury. “So that’s it? You think we can just ‘move on’ while you’re still hung up on her? That’s your big plan?” Five shakes his head quickly, stepping toward you, but you hold up a hand to stop him. “No. Just… don’t. I can’t believe you thought you could fix this by just ignoring what you feel for her. You’re so fucking insane.”

He flinches at your words, his face crumpling in a mix of guilt and frustration. “I’m not saying it’s easy!” he snaps back, his own anger flaring up. “I’m trying to deal with it, to make it right with you—”

“Deal with it?” you interrupt, “You don’t just ‘deal with’ something like this, Five! You think I’m supposed to sit around and wait for you to figure out your feelings for someone else?” He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair, his expression torn. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I’m trying to be honest—”

“Honest?” you laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “You don’t get to call this honesty. This is called you being so very fucking selfish. ”

Five's face tightens, his frustration boiling over. “What do you want me to say? That I’m perfect? I’m not! I’m trying to do the right thing here. There’s so much fucking stuff on my mind- I know I messed up—”

You don’t let him finish. “Messed up? You fucked someone else, Five! You betrayed me, our marriage, and now you’re telling me you still have feelings for her? That’s not just a ‘mess up’—that’s a choice! And now you expect me to just stand here and take it?” Five looks desperate, his eyes pleading with you to understand. “I’m here with you, trying to fix things with you. Isn’t that what matters?”

You shake your head, tears of frustration and hurt streaming down your face. “No, Five, that’s not enough. You don’t get to decide what’s enough. You don’t get to make me feel like I have to compete for you. Not with her, not with anyone. If you can’t figure out who you want, then maybe you don’t deserve either of us.”

He looks at you, stricken, his face pale. “I never wanted to lose you,” he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’m so scared of losing you.”

You let out a shaky breath, your heart breaking all over again. “You should have thought about that before you fucked Lila. I’m not your backup plan, Five. I’m not something you can just fall back on when things get complicated.”

You take a step back, your hand on the doorknob. “If you really want me, you need to prove it. But I’m not waiting around for you to decide. I’ve been hurt enough.”

And with that, you turn and leave, your heart heavy, What the fuck is wrong with you Five Hargreaves?

[pouletaulait]

"Don't look"

When I was writing my last post about Yashiro's issues with emotional intimacy, I also briefly mentioned that I see Yashiro's attempts at hiding his face as a sign of his struggle with emotional intimacy. He doesn’t want Doumeki to look at him because he feels vulnerable in that situation. Feeling safe and being able to be vulnerable in front of the other person is a key element of emotional intimacy and clearly Yashiro doesn’t feel safe enough (anymore) to be vulnerable in Doumeki's presence. However, it’s interesting to consider the contrasts in how Yashiro reacts to someone's gaze in different situations.

When Doumeki was still impotent and Yashiro would perform orally on him, Yashiro even encouraged Doumeki to look down on him, saying that it turned him on, i.e. chapter 1:

This is not surprising because Yashiro doesn't seem to have an issue with facing his partners during intercourse in general. We see this in a lot of flashbacks from his days before he joined the Yakuza, in one of the first chapters with Ryuuzaki or even in one of the latest chapters when he was about to have intercourse with Kido. In this context let’s consider how these people see Yashiro and how he feels about it. In one of my previous posts, „Pity… and Doumeki’s eyes“, I talked about how Yashiro gets off of people's disdain for him and can’t stand it when people pity him. This is a quote from that post:

One of the reasons as to why Yashiro felt drawn to the Yakuza was the fact that they didn't take pity on him, they hated him or looked down on him. He wasn't able to accept the pity but he was able to accept being looked down upon.

Considering the topic of emotional intimacy, I think it's interesting to take another look at the question of why Yashiro enjoys disdain for him but can’t accept pity. Presumably Yashiro enjoys the disdain or even disgust in peoples eyes because that's how he sees himself (depraved, inadequate, broken beyond repair, etc.) but I think another aspect which might come into play here is the fact that disdain is void of any emotional warmth or connection. You instinctively keep an emotional distance to something or someone you despise. Pity, on the other hand, is an emotion that necessitates a certain level of empathy and therefore emotional openness towards the other person. Feeling pity means you care, even if it's only on a superficial level; you actually look at the person and put yourself into their shoes. To some degree it already establishes an emotional connection with the other person. It's one step towards affection. It's not surprising that Yashiro who cannot accept love at all struggles with being the recipient of such an emotion because, on the surface, he doesn't want to be seen as a person, in the sense that he doesn't want people to care because he believes that he doesn't deserve love and affection because the only attention he ever received growing up was of a sexual nature.

To come back to the fact that Yashiro encouraged Doumeki to look down at him when he was performing orally on him. I think this might be the case because, at that point, for Yashiro any sexual act is completely disconnected from any level of emotional intimacy. We are shown that whenever anyone began to actually care about Yashiro as a person it made him feel sick and he did everything he could to get away. He couldn't bear the affection. However, he doesn't mind Ryuuzaki or the others looking at him because it's purely physical. He doesn't care about them as a person and they don't care about him either (or as for Ryuuzaki; Yashiro is led to believe that Ryuuzaki doesn’t care about him). He doesn't feel vulnerable in those situations at all because there are no emotions involved it’s simply „putting it in someone’s hole until you shoot“, that’s how Yashiro put it in chapter 23. His words reflect the idea that at that point that in Yashiro’s mind intercourse is completely detached from any emotions:

In the beginning he didn’t feel vulnerable with Doumeki either, because at that point there were no emotions involved yet. Yashiro felt physically attracted to Doumeki and vice versa but they didn’t develop any feeling for each other yet which is why he didn't mind him looking at him.

In contrast to how Yashiro reacted to Doumeki’s gaze in a sexual context his reaction was different in other situations – whenever Doumeki looked at his face for too long, Yashiro would reprehend him for staring at him. This contrast becomes already apparent in the first chapter because this is what happens after Yashiro was done with the bj and they had talked a bit:

Why is his reaction so different to Doumeki looking at him? I’d argue because Yashiro is opening up to Doumeki when their interaction isn't sexual. When they are alone and he's laying in Doumeki's lap or Doumeki is driving him somewhere, he's interacting with Doumeki on an emotional level. Those are the moments when they are opening up to each other and Yashiro allows Doumeki to get to know him as a person. This openness leaves him a lot more vulnerable and whenever Doumeki reaches too far into his soul, like asking whether it was Kageyama who Yashiro was in love with as in chapter 4, Yashiro shuts down and acts upset:

He’s a lot more self-conscious in those situations and is more uneasy with Doumeki's gaze because when he’s sharing his thoughts and experiences he’s not merely a sexual object but an actual person with feelings and desires that go beyond sexual desires and pleasure. He probably feels safe enough to share parts of his inner world with Doumeki in those situations because of Doumeki’s impotence and because he feels in full control of the situation.

As long as Doumeki didn’t show any sexual desire for him, Yashiro was able to let him in, even though there were limits. However, the more this emotional connection that he shared with Doumeki became intertwined with a sexual intimacy between them, the more uneasy Yashiro became with their relationship and it hit a breaking point during their first intercourse. Their conversations in chapter 22 and 33 are very interesting in that respect but I will take a closer look at those in a later post.

In conclusion, after the time-skip Yashiro may not be consciously aware of Doumeki's feelings for him but he's aware of his own feelings and their emotional connection. Sex with Doumeki isn't purely physical for him regardless of whether Doumeki has feelings for him or not. Yashiro feels vulnerable because he's already involved on an emotional level and this shows in the way he reacts to Doumeki looking at him. Tragically, Yashiro isn’t able to open up to Doumeki anymore but he can’t bear to lose him again either, so all he is left with is a physical relationship while remaining closed off to Doumeki emotionally.

Phew 😮‍💨 Somehow I really struggled to get this together... I kept thinking about other aspects that relate to this topic and kept getting off track. In the end I had to exclude a lot in order to keep it concise – it's a testament to how deep and complex this manga is ☺️ Therefore, I have plenty more things to write about until the next chapter comes out 😅

[messiahzzz]

i’d briefly like to talk about the “it was fine” dialogue option that happens the morning after gale’s Last Night Alive scene in act ii and about the fandom's general reaction to it.

gale is a character who evidently enjoys the occasional teasing. taking the piss out of your partner every once in a while can certainly be a way of showing affection. however, it is important to consider the context of the situation: what is at stake for him and his current emotional state, as well as what exactly had transpired between the two of them prior to said conversation.

gale: forgive me. these were already trying times before elminster delivered his missive. now, for me at least, they are potentially end times.

after he and tav had spent the night together and confessed their love to each other, gale is once again showing himself utterly vulnerable and is carefully asking them for reassurance.

gale: [..] i hope that night meant as much to you as it did to me.

gale: but you - you led me away from the edge.

gale: without your words, your touch... i fear i would have sought purpose and solace in that void. you reminded me what living can feel like.

he wants to check in with them, after both of them have shared something tender and very intimate, something he might even consider life-altering.

gale: we didn't just make love. we bonded, body and soul. i got lost in you.

it’s not even about gale “not being able to read social cues” and “not recognizing the fact that it was meant in jest.” in fact, i’d argue it is a rather tone-deaf, inconsiderate response and just genuinely a REALLY BAD TIME to joke at your partner's expense when they are actively baring their feelings to you and are asking you for reassurance.

i have seen people write off his reaction as “unwarranted” or “overtly dramatic” but in my humble opinion, it is pretty understandable given the nature of their conversation and what he is asking of them. it's also sad how there seems to be a general pattern of gale's emotions and boundaries getting played off as a joke, while other companions get shown the courtesy of thorough analysis/understanding. he is proud of his skill as a lover and the fact that he was able to bring them pleasure, yet his inquiry is less about him wanting tav to stroke his ego and more about him, once again, asking if you indeed share the same feelings for each other… after the emotional high has now passed.

gale has an ever-present need for clarity in his relationships, very likely due to the fact that this was something he couldn’t request of mystra. he might appear more sensitive in that regard compared to the other companions. he doesn’t want to take himself too seriously, but this still often clashes with his general feeling of inadequacy. where he is able to take criticism as long as it isn’t related to his performance, overall prowess and usefulness.

yes, his response is passive-aggressive and yes, he IS obviously hurt by what tav said. yet merely repeating “it was fine” in response to a heartfelt, genuine question could’ve as well been interpreted in that manner. if tav does clarify that they have only been joking, he apologizes to them instead. otherwise his dialogue remains the same, albeit said in a more embarrassed & awkward tone.

gale is a character who is dealing with deep-rooted self-worth issues and yet that doesn’t mean that he wants to be handled with kid gloves, far from it. he craves a relationship in which his emotional needs are recognized, respected and cared for, where he can be unabashedly open and vulnerable without facing ridicule nor pity for it. and he is more than willing to give the same in return.

also y’know — there is a time and a place.

[destinygoldenstar]

TADC Episode 5 Trailer

JUNE 20TH?!?!??!

Goddamn, EVERYTHING is going on with me next week...

I guess I have to do my rewatches soon, huh?

(For those who don't know, it's been a tradition that I rewatch the previous episodes the days before the new one comes out.)

So, yeah, you're gonna see me on a Digital Circus hype train.

And watching this episode for speculation...

I GENUINELY DO NOT KNOW.

Like, I'm just flat out LOST.

But some point outs:

Caine says "And my flight to Copper 9 leaves in five minutes."

Murder Drones reference.

We have seen this Caine model before, from last episode.

This originated in the series trailer where they were calling out bootleg merch. And this was the model. An uncanny model.

You'd think that's just for a trailer joke, BUT NO,

THEY PUT SOME CONTEXT BEHIND THIS MODEL AND USED IT FOR THEIR SHOW.

This show is amazing, guys, you have no idea...

Now what the hell is happening here?

This is Pomni and Jax getting vaccumed.

I mean I can only make out these two. The trailer is piss poor quality. (ON PURPOSE)

My guess, and I'm gonna be wrong: IS THIS A CLIFFHANGER AT THE END OF THE EPISODE?

Pomni and Jax just end up in HELL together.

We all know Pomni does real well in hell.

I'm really excited for the experimental animation styles.

THIS FRAME really intrigues me.

This looks like 90s computer animation, does it not?

I mean most of the animation in this show takes inspiration from that, but still. This looks like the quality of an ACTUAL 90s game.

And Caine is holding all of them like they're puppets. HIS TOYS TO PLAY WITH.

Caine cares about their pleasure, to a crippling degree, he's just really bad at maintaining it. So to have this visual of him holding them up like lifeless toys is SUPER INTERESTING.

Caine's losing his mind, that's obvious, I think, as I said before, this episode might end with them being fed up with all this shit, cry that they hate Caine (and/or his adventures), and Caine just SNAPS.

Cause once he realizes he will never be able to please them and that they well always hate him... then he hates them too.

MASSIVE TONE SHIFT. "Silly before the storm". THIS EPISODE WILL END ON A CLIFFHANGER.

Caine and Zooble are in the void. Why?

THE VOID IS COMING BACK. WE HAVEN'T SEEN THE VOID SINCE THE PILOT.

President Pomni is trying to defuse a bomb.

I could make so many irl references and every single one of them will get me cancelled so I'm gonna just shut my mouth.

Hello new Pomni face frame to add to my collection in my photo album hehe...

(Can you tell she is one of my stans yet?)

But serious question: WHAT IS THIS LOCATION?

Again, piss quality so I can't make it out.

I don't think it's under the map cause it's more grid-like, but I also wouldn't be surprised if it is considering the episode is a meltdown.

I'm curious, Pomni has seen under the map, have the other EVER actually gotten stuck under the map before?

Don't see why they wouldn't know it exists, just saying.

I would think it's outside the tent since we've seen it, BUT we've also seen the outside of the tent is when it's day and night at the same time, and the night stars are drawn like five year old scribbles.

This looks too realistic to be outside the tent.

Oh so that's what Gooseworx meant. Bring on the angst.

I say as there is a frame of Zooble on crack, a bad miscoloring of Ragatha, whatever the hell Jax is, and Kinger as a military general.

And Orbsman?

NO GANGLE TOO. HUH...

Also rival Pomni is cursed. Her design is already perfect as is, so naturally ANY alternation is just gonna look wrong to me.

Another one for the folder hehe-

...yeah, yeah me too.

She just like me fr

"YOU STAY RIGHT HERE, WHERE I CAN KEEP MY HUNDREDS OF ALL SEEING EYES ON YOU" - CAINE, PILOT

So Caine just flat out has an office, that wasn't just for last episode. HUH...

OFFICE????

Okay so something involves seaweed.

And Gangle's mask breaks again.

I HOPE TO GOD GANGLE'S DEVELOPMENT LAST EPISODE WAS NOT FORGOTTEN ABOUT. BECAUSE THAT WOULD SUCK.

Also, note that ONLY KINGER AND GANGLE COME OUT.

We see Ragatha Pomni and Jax in that blue void, so...

WHAT HAPPENED TO THESE THREE????

HOW WERE GANGLE AND KINGER THE ONLY ONES THAT GOT HOME SAFE??

If Bubble turns out to be the mastermind, nobody will shut up about that twist.

...honestly it would be a good twist.

Okay... well, time to get my hyperfixation back.

See y'all on the 16th when I start rewatching to prep.

[funnycreatortimetravel]

Small rant about Sans' character that no one is ever going to read and is probably kind of inaccurate, but I'm going to scream into the void nonetheless because why the hell not and I'm kind of bored.

I feel like the concept of Sans as a whole has been so utterly gutted by the fandom and not in the way you'd think. Not because of the AUs which are all so oddly Sans-focused (but at least we have Underverse which is fairly decent) but in the sense of the people who claim to "actually understand Sans canonically" and "try to stay as canon as possible" while also equally missing the point sort of. Hence, why we have this long and overplayed image I'm sure everyone has seen a billion times:

If I could lay some groundwork down, Undertale came out in 2015, nearly a decade ago. The internet was a different time and place then and fandom creativity reached new peaks that no one had ever seen before, and as a result, a lot of Undertale was exaggerated, changed, cut up, and then put back together. Why? Because in all honesty, Undertale was a really simple game with a simple premise. Sure there were bits and pieces scattered throughout, parts like who Gaster was, who Chara was when they were alive, who Sans is in general; all the typical fandom theory shenanigans we've come to expect in the recent years. And in that excitement, Sans became the staple of Undertale pretty much, or at least everything it represented. This macabre, yet adorably misleading game with funny moments and interesting think pieces that people are still speculating about. That's pretty much the basis of Sans. So I get why Sans became the quintessential poster child for such a subversively ambitious game. I get why, then, people try to showcase Sans as this badass God character who knows and remembers all of resets and cries over Papyrus and is just an edge lord in general. It doesn't mean it's accurate in the slightest, but I get the idea of it nonetheless. In the absence of content, and there's a lot of it in Undertale, (I mean, it took me 4 hours to 100% it in the Pacifist and Neutral Routes, and 5 hours to beat Genocide, including the times it took me to beat Undyne because she thoroughly kicked my ass and Sans as well) the fans filled those gaps with what they saw fit and what they saw fit was so wide and diverse that the gap overflowed and the game pretty much became unrecognizable.

And I (except for the truly questionable and gross stuff, you know what I'm talking about) love the fandom for that, I truly do. Just the sheer number of comics, spin-off games, AUs, art, and fanfiction that answered every question I had and more was and is impressive, but even so, there's only so much that can be done with the context Undertale provides us before the content gets...stale. Hence my point on why Sans' character was so exaggerated is because Undertale as a whole had been exaggerated and oversaturated and overplayed and generally...not what the game or Sans was originally. But that was peak 2016-2019, though, a few years ago. And the interpretations and eras, like everything, have changed.

Now back to my actual point. It's now 2024. The fandom has noticeably slowed down. All of the AUs and theories and fanfictions that were popular have either been forgotten about over the years, randomly rediscovered or still ongoing, or just abandoned entirely. The game has been pretty much combed through until every file has been cracked, every document leaked, and every secret discovered. It's like a picked over turkey at this point and a lot of the old creators have indeed left behind the game in pursuit of newer things, which is understandable. It's not the center of attention it once was and in that wake, we don't really have a lot of the same pillars in the Undertale community that we used to. And in this transformed community, we have the left over children, now young adults and teenagers, to pick up the pieces. And in that, Sans' character, as well as Undertale itself, has again, been reformed.

That was a lot of words. But I hope I at least set the center stage. My issue, pretty much, is that the leftover fans deem themselves as "above the cringe" the old fandom left behind, which, is fair enough. And in doing so, a lot of the foundation of the 2016-2019 Undertale fandom was kind of overwritten. No, now Sans is no longer this edgy, overpowered God figure ready to right the wrongs of the player, no, now he's this apathetic guy who doesn't care about anyone, including himself, and is only powerful because he cheated. And to be fair, I see some merit in this interpretation. Sans is in fact, a pretty morally ambiguous guy. He doesn't even attempt to stop the player during the genocide route until there's nothing left. He threatens the player on the pacifist route even when we pose no threat. He makes so many allusions about himself not caring about anything. So I get it. Everyone is tired of everything Sans-related. I was too at one point. But in trying to counteract this fanon interpretation of Sans, I feel like this new one is also semi-inaccurate. This new interpretation of Sans is meant to be seen as "mature" and "not cringe" when in fact, Undertale is and always will be sort of cringe. And that's OK! That's why I and others love the game so much, because it's not afraid of being anything other than what it is and what it claimed to be. It had a story in mind that it wanted to tell and it did so unabashedly. The need to separate Undertale and Sans itself from the cringe is so pointless and almost a little juvenile. And imo, even ruins the character of Sans himself.

Sans does care about Papyrus, so so so much. He reads him bedtime stories. He plays along with his illusions of grandeur. He calls out the player when he's killed, despite Sans having to remain objective as a judge. I feel like Sans not intervening in Papyrus' death isn't because he doesn't care, it's because his entire job is to act as a judge and in a position where he's mostly neutral. He knows the player has powers to redo and undo things, so thus, he gives us room to make those choices, for better or worse. He's like, the anti-toriel. He refuses to hold your hand. He tells YOU to make the right choice, and by you, I mean the player. And in that sense, I feel like that's not something a completely apathetic guy would do. Someone like that wouldn't even see the point of choices, of having an option. Someone like that wouldn't care about getting out of bed in the morning, getting several jobs, or telling a person with higher power to just engage with your brother.

Like come on, don't say he doesn't put effort into anything, like he went out of his way to make sure Pap's Holiday party went perfect. He's constantly going above and beyond for his brother.

Sans has emotions and they're so complex and so well-written, but I feel like this counter-cringe culture of the fandom wants him to be this guy who's either too depressed or too lazy to engage with others, or someone who would simply shrug off the death of loved ones when we have proof that Sans does indeed try hard for Papyrus in the ending where everyone dies but his brother. It's an "oh shit" sort of moment when he realizes that Papyrus is the only person he has left and thus, he puts in the effort to be better for him. It's not that he doesn't care or see the point, he's just kind of numb at this point. If Papyrus dies in the neutral routes, you don't see Sans again until the judgment hall and he'll call you a dirty brother killer and tell you to go to hell. That's something someone who at least cares a little would do. He's not above insulting the player and he's not above getting pissed. I've never really seen him as a, "well that's that then," character when it comes to Papyrus dying, for me, it's always been, "I'm angry, but I can maintain my composure and still do what I have to do."

Even in the genocide routes, Sans wants to give up and do nothing. He wants to let himself die without much thought. But he knows that he has to stand between you and oblivion. It's another, "Oh shit" moment, but in the opposite way. He knows he's gonna die. But he still has hope. Not necessarily that you'll be a good person, but that you can try another way and make better choices. He embodies the same mentality Papyrus did at the beginning of the run, believing there's a better chance for another future where everyone can be happy.

Sans isn't a nihilist, not all the way. There's still a chance, still a part of him that has hope for everything, regardless of the route. And should the Pacifist route be completed, you'll see that he's genuinely happy. He DOES care, or at least he's beginning to know that caring about things is ok and healthy even.

Ex 1: If you go to Sans' lab after completing a True Pacifist Route, you get this bit of dialog:

Ex 2: Sans and Papyrus talking about a Christmas party they had on the Newsletter of the 5th Anniversary of Undertale.

The strongest, yet most complex example of this that we see is that he upholds his promise with Toriel and will continue to do so until the genocide route at the very end because he wants to at least give us, the player, a chance. And even if it was a cop-out for being lazy, I believe that Sans legitimately believes there's a chance for us to turn around and be a better person, or at the very least, make better choices. We know that Sans is a person who doesn't like making promises at all, and even though he said that his threatening to kill Frisk is a joke, had he not made that promise to Toriel, I can't 100% say that he still wouldn't intervened in the genocide and neutral routes.

And if you think about it, Sans upholding that promise just makes me question him even more. Like, even if you kill his brother, so long as you don't kill everyone, he won't kill you just because of that. He sticks to his promise and his morals so much, even if it costs him everything because well, what type of judge would he be if he didn't stick to his moral code?

"If you have some special power, don't you think it's your responsibility to do the right thing?"

And by that logic, if he made a promise with someone, don't you think he'd feel he'd have the responsibility to uphold it?

We also know that he makes an effort to give us updates on the Underground after we leave in the neutral routes because he still wants us to know, at least, the consequences of our actions, so it's not like he's just lazily letting us get away with anything with do (even if he does physically.) He still holds our actions above our heads. He still keeps his promise. He still knows that we can make a better outcome. And if that doesn't say anything about him, I don't know what does.

Even in the neutral route endings where things are objectively going terribly for the monsters with Frisk killing Asgore and taking the souls to leave the barrier, Sans still never gives up. Sans, of all people.

And sure, Sans isn't a saint, not by a long shot, but he does have some moral weight in the long run, and by playing the part of a judge, he has a certain level of disattachment that's necessary when it comes to doing his job. Nowadays, I don't see the "fanon" sans that everyone loves to rag on, the one that's overly emotional and jarringly out of character, more so, I see everyone ragging on that interpretation, and then coming up with an equally inaccurate interpretation of Sans just not giving a shit and letting Frisk get away with everything just because he's "not emotional and only wants to be lazy, blah, blah, blah, nihilism, existentialism, it's more canonically accurate, unlike that CRINGE FANON SANS!" /or being a total unserious prankster with no other personality traits, and that's equally as jarring for me.

So in conclusion, I feel like "Fanon" Sans, the one where he's breaking down and sobbing over Papyrus and holding his scarf is just as inaccurate as the "more canon one" where he's apathetic and simply just not caring about his death, or at the very best, says "it is what it is." Sans is a character whose emotions aren't apparent, but he still does care in his weird philosophical way. He loves Papyrus and genuinely thinks he's cool. He's a jokester character who loves a good laugh and being laid back. He doesn't like putting in effort, but he will if he has to. He wants the player to make good choices, so he generally tries to stay out of the way to give us that freedom. Not because he knows we're gonna kill Papyrus, but because he knows we have greater power and wants us to use it to do the morally right thing. He isn't above doing morally grey things either, like threatening to kill Frisk in case they pose a threat to monster kind, but I believe even then, his hesitation to just accept a human in the underground is somewhat understandable given the oppressive tension between humans and monsters. Additionally, he does put in effort when it comes to caring about monsters other than Papyrus, Toriel, and even Alphys and Asgore, he cares about them all: (it's implied that he feeds the amalgamates in Alphy's old lab as proven by the same dog food we see in the lab being in Sans' house and Alphys even calls him a good guy because he helps her in the aborted genocide route ending, him telling jokes to Toriel and genuinely trying to bring some joy in her life even though she's a stranger and doesn't have an obligation to, even staying with her in the Ruins after she's dethroned in the Queen Undyne ending, him acting as the judge before Asgore and even being in such an important position requires you to have a solid sense of morality and conviction, his respect for Undyne as a warrior/leader depending on the ending and in the Undertale Newsletter, he makes an effort to score a goal for his team in Hocky, and Undyne of all people seems proud of him, and pretty much everything that has to do with Papyrus he's at the very least involved or interested in.)

My words don't have a lot of merit. I'm simply saying how I interpret things. But as a big sister, I see Sans as a good big brother who's not too involved, but also deeply cares about his younger brother and his friends. I get that stoicism and being "logical" and "cold" is the new trend and whatnot with all these edits of badass characters and longing for a time when everything was less...emotional, but in doing that, it shuts a lot of discussion about Sans as a person and his complex emotions as a whole. I feel like it's too difficult and kind of silly to chalk him up as either one or the other. I feel like there's a nice middle ground between the "cringe" fanon sans and the "cool, apathetic" canon sans that a lot of fans either go one or the other on. Anyway, that's about it for my rant. It's kind of nonsensical and a little hard to follow, but I hope I was able to get my thoughts across nonetheless.

I guess it was a big rant after all. Oh well. It is what it is.

[hestzhyen]

What's in a Name? (Sazanami Clan)

Sincerely sorry for spamming you, dear void. Think of this as a purge of ideas that have been percolating around for a while but were never given time until now. Anyway, let's take a look at the kanji meanings for the Sazanami clan members' names! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

Much like parents creating a name for their children, authors often put their wishes and intentions for the character into the name selection process. Kagurabachi is no different- the Saznami's names showcase how much thought Hokazono put into creating the characters to fit seamlessly into the story.

I'm not a pro at Japanese so these interpretations are based off of a lot of research only.

Without further ado:

漣 (sazanami, most commonly read as ren) means "ripple". An indirect reference to the inherited isou technique that uses shock waves?

More rarely, it can also mean crying or continuously flowing tears. A hint towards the horrible legacy they've got as a clan, perhaps.

Sazanami Kyora (漣 京羅) - Bizarre name.

京 (kyo) directly means capital city and is often used as shorthand for Kyoto city itself (京都). 羅 (ra) is for lightweight fabrics like silk or gauze... a surface reading is kinda weird. His name is "silk capital", huh...

In a name, 京 (kyo) can confer both grandeur and power. 羅 (ra) can confer the idea of a protective net, or a link of unity and strength. So in my mind, Kyora is meant to be the powerful, uniting force that protects. Protects what? Certainly not his kids! GOTTEM

Sazanami Soya (漣 宗也) - Soya is a special guy for many reasons... 宗 (usually read as mune) is associated with respect for family, ancestry, and following the teachings of a founder (in a religious sense). The so reading is actually pretty rare and means "origin" or "virtuous ancestor". In general it conveys a sense of the child being expected to honor the family's ancestors, legacy, and perhaps being the start of something new and special. Good good this is fine.

也 is pretty interesting too. It's archaic, for one. Thus making it a strange choice for a modern name. The most common readings of 也 (nari and ya) mean "to be" in the sense that something is certain to happen/occur, but there's also a less common one used here (ya) that is questioning- like "will it be?" or "is it"? And when it's included in a name, 也 (ya) often takes on a meaning like "also". In an abstract sense, ya here implies excitement for the baby being born, so at least he's got that going for him.

So IMO the most direct meaning of 宗也 (soya) is "another origin" in reference to his "love" being what helps Hakuri overcome Soya himself and start down his new path, with strong implications that he was expected to honor his family's tradition... but maybe wouldn't be able to. Cool stuff! And really depressing in the context that he was chosen to be the next head of the family! Did his parents not have high hopes for him for some reason? Imagine naming your kid "baby we're excited to have that will respectfully carry on our family legacy" while also throwing it in doubt by deliberately using an archaic kanji lol. Soya never had a chance.

Is that why he treated Hakuri the way he did once his little bro failed to manifest the talent he was assumed to have...?

Sazanami Hakuri (漣 伯理) Our favorite former boyfailure sure has an interesting name...

伯 (haku) means someone with a position of high authority like "chief", "earl", or "count". In a name, it conveys a sense of respect and admiration being due as the highest ranked person in the family. What audacity lmao. I think it's interesting that the middle child was given this name since haku also implies being obligated respect and admiration as the eldest brother/role model of the family. Should his and Soya's names have been swapped?

理 (ri) means reason/logic... and less often, justice or truth. It's interesting that this character was used instead of the more common 裡 (ri) that usually composes the full name (伯裡). This character is for something in the rear or the middle, inside or within- implying they're protected or sheltered. Name implications of 裡 carry connotations of inner strength, security, and comfort; a sense of belonging and connection. ...Things our Hakuri notably lacks. He was never meant to be a strong leader secure in his relationships and protected from harm, I guess. So let's look at why 理 might have been chosen instead.

There are many possible implications when 理 used in a name, but most of them imply that the child will be guided or helped along in a positive way. Whether by order and structure, logic and wisdom, deep empathy... any or all of them. So his name is something like "logical/natural chief" with the implication that something will guide his path through life. Fortunately for him and us, it happens to be empathy (RIP Ice Lady). Not escaping the swapped names theories though since Soya was supposed to be the logical, calculating oldest brother chosen to lead the clan. Hmm.

With all that context, this panel just makes me so... something:

Is there more to unpack with the Sazanamis after all? Is leadership a meritocracy or something? Because normally you'd expect the oldest son to have the duty passed on to him. Yet I'm not confident that Soya was always the first choice now.

But yeah, with a name like that, no wonder we see him being called special by Kyora at such a young age- Hakuri had a lot placed on his shoulders at birth. It makes me curious as to why he was apparently seen as a better prospect than Soya, but we'll probably never get the details.

Sazanami Tenri (漣 天理) - Another guy with a unisex name that leans feminine lol. Even more parallels to Chihiro!

A lot of fellow anime and manga fans will probably be familiar with 天 (ten)- meaning heaven, sky, sometimes God. No surprises there. 理 (ri) - the same one used in Hakuri's name- once again means reason/logic, and less often, justice or truth. In names, 天 (ten) also adds a sense of natural talent or gifts the child is born with (and we do see Tenri becoming the youngest member of the Tou ever, so he certainly was born with something special like his father claimed).

理 (ri) implications hurt my heart. He was also named with great expectations placed on him, but at least it's a relatively common name unlike his older brothers'.

I think a common, straightforward interpretation is usually best so "heaven's natural law" is the meaning I'd ascribe. But I do like the optional interpretation of "heaven's judgement" being there to echo Mr. Inazuma's "lightning of judgement" that Chihiro delivered on his behalf. Just a fun little thing for me to gnaw on. The additional naming implications make me think he was supposed to be guided by his natural talents to a bright future, but... well...

I kind of want a side story or episode zero about Kyora, Mrs. Sazanami, Tenri, Hakuri, and Soya before Hakuri was ostracized now. Why were they named like this?! Hakuri and Soya in particular have me going insane over implications for their relationship and why Soya might have been so cruel to him...

Anyway, thanks as always for letting me rant in your ambivalent ears, kind internet void. I'll be able to ride out the last hour or so of waiting for spoilers in peace thanks to you.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

What do you think of the claim that “the beach episode didn’t prove anything. Azula wasn’t a good friend.”

I think they're completely missing point or deliberately taking stuff out of context. The Beach is not about "These characters are all good people actually", it is all about revealing hidden depths.

Ty Lee, the super happy, cheery character that seems so lovable, and Mai, the aloof, grumpy character are both dealing with the same trauma, aka being ignored by their parents, and deal with it in opposite ways: Ty Lee tries to get as much attention as possibly to fill that void, while Mai avoids getting attached to anything to prevent more heartbreak.

Zuko, the character we are constantly seeing being angry at everyone for the smallest thing, is actually furious at himself because, in his despair to please his father, he constantly acts in ways he would normally find morally reprehensible.

And Azula, the openly evil princess that seemingly had no issue with being evil, is actually super emotionally confused over why her mom had an issue with that side of her, and fears that means she wasn't loved.

She is arrogant and mean and wants everything done her way, yet she doesn't tell Chan and his friend that she's the princess because she wants to see if she could get people to like her for who she is as a person, not because of her status.

She is a terrible friend that is prone to putting people down when they easily achive something she struggles with, but she also feels bad for making her friend cry, apologizes, and actually admits to her jealousy.

She calls Zuko pathetic for caring about right and wrong, but her entire struggle with their mom is proof that does care about it too, she just has a VERY different idea of what "right and wrong" even mean.

She's disregarding the others' confessions as "performances", as if she considers it all insincere, yet she's clearly repressing the fuck out of her own emotions - leading to her breakdown in the finale.

It is a key episode to understand Azula as a character, and it doesn't not make a redemption arc inevitable in any way (in fact Azula was the only one of these four characters to get a tragic ending in the original show) - but because it shows her in a more sympathetic light and shows she's far more complex than the fanon interpretation of her (in which she's a """"pyschopath"""""), thus proving that a redemption is not impossible for her, even if it was something the showrunners clearly had no interest in (unlike the lead writer) people get mad.

God forbid the villain, even one that is just a teenager, is allowed to have feelings, insecurities, fears, or just generally be a human being while still being clearly evil. Unless the villain in question is Zuko, I guess.

This fandom is alergic to complexity.

[mortish-writes]

hi mortish.

just played/read through your story on itch.io and i really liked it. the world, characters and the angsty stuff.

i have a few questions:

relative shortly after the prologue you get a choice to kiss one of the RO by having 3 romance points/tendencies. i was playing on the heretic path and was only able to get 2 romance points/tendencies. did i miss a choice in the prologue? or is it only avaiable for the zealot path (which i dont think, but maybe it is)?

on the itch.io page its mentioned, that MC can either drink blood and grow stronger OR feed her lovers and be protected. will this be a conscious decision/choice, the player can make (like choose between A) become tronger or B) feed lovers) or will it depend on your choices overall and the game keeps an hidden counter? or does it even depend on who is MC´s "Main"-Lover?

thank you for your anwsers.

Glad you're enjoying it!

You can actually end the Heretic prologue with +5 romantic! The options that give you tendency (personality) points in the prologue aren't clearly defined, I'll be updating that in the Week One update since a lot of readers enjoy seeing how they can tailor their MCs. If you choose options that reflect a hopeful/dreamy nature in the prologue, such as fantasizing about knowing your parents and remaining hopeful even after the inquisition, you'll meet the requisite points to touch Serax's lips. In the context of the IF, romantic isn't strictly about intimacy, but rather having the tendency to romanticize situations and people.

As for the blood drinking, yes! Once the beginning arc of the story is complete (Night 7/Week 1) you will have nights that are shorter but lot more open-ended. You'll be able to choose to spend your nights doing a variety of things, such as striking up conversations, choosing who to drink from/feed, and choosing whether to be intimate with one of the ROs. Generally, once per week you'll arrive in a new village and have a much more structured, longer night. You will gain one darksinger song from the main plot. After that, you can choose to develop your powers (and your independence, by proxy) or just feed Valdricht (and eventually Serax) your superblood and let them do all the darksinger stuff.

The goal is to let readers engage with the action/magic powers aspect of the plot to the extent that they want. Personally, when I read this sort of romance I'm just like 'Okay, this magic is really neat, but get be back to the hot guy I was just talking to or my brain will melt.' I am the world's most impatient romance reader. This is my own magic system so I really enjoy writing it, but I also think there's a lack of protagonists willing to just nope out of combat and hide behind a sexy, powerful guy in modern romance and I'm totally willing to fill that void.

[bulbabutt]

Thank you for being a bastion of sanity amidst the growing "but proshippers! But incest! But RPF!" purity culture's nonsense.

I'm so tired of being afraid to admit that I've even read a fanfic/fancomic because that same person might have a DIFFERENT ACCOUNT where they indulge in a problematic ship. And therefore they are "bad" and by association, I could be labeled "bad" for having looked at something completely unrelated and tossed on a block list.

It's asinine. Yet I'm too afraid to even get off anon because I know I don't have the mental fortitude to survive a potential online witch hunt.

So thank you, I wish you all the strength to keep screaming the words I cannot.

honestly youre not the first person to send me an anon about this, i just tend to feel just as afraid of responding to them as much as you are afraid of coming off anon. i think because while ill post things in vague context, it becomes another thing when someone says it out loud, yknow? but i appreciate it, knowing im not just screaming into a void where no one likes what i have to say.

i think what i will say is im not the only one who THINKS like i do, but i am just dumb enough to be loud and annoying about it. its kind of a thing where i'd never say anything specific because like... some people are so vicious and will demand blood if they get a whiff if i mention anything vaguely. the fact i have to be afraid to say 'people dont mind' for their own safety is crazy, huh?

i think that thing youre saying about being worried by association from association was the same first time i had this thought. i was reading something so good so deep something that effected me so deeply from how well it was talking about the realistic effects of incestuous abuse, and then i went to see what else the author had written and i was like. oh. theres just regular incest in here too. and that was kind of a moment of hm.. perhaps i need to think more about what really matters here. the fact i can engage with what i want and just say 'oh i see what else you do, thats not for me so i will just not engage with that'

so it hurts worse when theres the idea of someone engaging with art they like that has nothing 'weird' going on, then suddenly getting hit with screaming that that artist has a side account theyre not advertising where they make weird art that they are keeping FULLY separate from the account in question. like i do not see how that helps anybody in that situation.

then theres the generalization of it. the idea that maybe all you did was draw like. 19 yr old versions of two 15 yr olds kissing, and suddenly that gets you put on a list of people who will draw literal children in sexual situations, gets you put in that same boat without question. that shit is so cruel to me, that these things all get painted with the same brush. equally as bad, equally as deserving of being ostracized. or the idea that you get put on that list for not caring about if strangers ship things on the internet, makes you just as bad as someone who makes it. i really just hate this entire culture.

idk im... old school i guess? back in my day youd watch a shitty cartoon that had over 20 characters in it so you could smash them together in whatever ship suited you. crack ships were the bread and butter of me and my friends, shit that made no sense but in your own head. the idea of being anti... shipping at all is so... thats very weird. shipping as a thing is very much what fandom was ever made for in the first place? like. im not kidding, learn your history if you dont know that (middle age women shipping kirk and spock)

back when i was a kid i watched this tv show called kim possible, and i was a kid who didnt know shit about themselves seeing a pretty villain lady for the first time who called the main character who was a girl princess. i didnt know what to make of that, i didnt know the age difference between them i was a dumbass child, they were both drawn the same way! then im like 12 years old on the internet, i see theres a ship of the teenage girl and this like 30 yr old villain woman. do you think my 12 year old self saw the problematic nature and thought deeply about the morals of said ship? no. i was like 'holy shit i wish i was the teenage girl dating shego. why do i like this? oh god im a lesbian'

again. i was a child. what are you gonna do, go back in time and arrest my 12 year old ass for looking at pg rated fanart of women kissing on the internet? we didnt HAVE real representation yet! there was no korrasami, no rupphire, no bubbline, no lumity! shipping was the only place you could see stuff that was gay! and it being GAY would get you in more trouble than it having an age gap!

the fact is people WOULD cancel me now for that, wouldnt you?! thats where we're at. that IS a problematic ship, id be put on a blocklist in todays internet for being a child who crushed on villains. i didnt make it, i didnt create for it, i just looked at it and that would get you in trouble now!!! thats crazy.

i know thats a random tangent to go off on, but like..... hhhhh i dont know man. sometimes it seems like people want the internet to pass by broadcasting standards and practices and thats!!! bad!!! let people experiment with their weird shit as they figure themselves out, its so fucking normal. youre not a bad person for looking at things on the internet, youre not a bad person for engaging with things, youre not a bad person for being horny online! especially if you make your own fucking space for it?? a space easily blacklistable, with trigger warnings and EVERYTHING... we didnt have those when i was a kid, so some things are better, but culture is just worse.

i dunno. i just think i would not have thrived in this environment as a teenager. im glad im old and know better, but i worry about the lessons kids are learning from this. to feel ashamed, to bottle shit up, its not good for you. be kind to yourself, be kind to others. we're all working through shit in our own ways.

sorry for another long annoying post

[elmaxlys]

New Place, New Life : A freely rewritten F2RX - Prologue

hello hello english speaking fandom, here is the beginning of my rewrite! don't hesitate to tell me what y'all think 🙈 this is an intimidating endeavor

reminder that this fic is based off the f2rx pilot and freely adapted from f2rx in general: we'll meet some characters while the context will differ

A new place, a new life.

Tag remained in the van his father had rented, sitting in the passenger seat like a rock sitting still in the flood of activity growing around it. Belt undone, head down, he kept his gaze on his hands and the deflating ball they held weakly. His knee was throbbing.

He spun the ball, once, twice.

The need to give it a good kick kept poking him, to send it flying throughout the city, the ideal setting for a life-sized flipper game. Nothing like a good run after a wild ball to discover a neighborhood. He held the ball tighter between his arm and let his head fall on the dashboard.

The movers worked tirelessly, the new neighbors came to give a hand, and Pablo, in the eye of the storm, kept everyone together through the power of his warm smile.

Tag knew. He could feel the sidelong glances, could hear the snide remarks about youth these days and teenage crises. Yet he couldn't move. He had a churning stomach, a knot in his throat, and a sharp throbbing in the knee.

Tag knew. He understood why they had to leave it all behind and start again elsewhere. Again. He hated it, but he understood. Coming back to France was far from a dream come true - it was a desertion, a void, an anxiety, just when stability had begun to establish itself in his life over there.

Tag knew. All the science in the world, all the common sense came together in agreement. Three weeks of rest, the doctor said, before the next check. The city's air was like an itch, the asphalt calling for him, the old cracking leather of his eternal ball. He breathed in its familiar scent and found some comfort in it.

His knee was throbbing.

He got his phone out. The thing was far from new but it held. Stickers on the case, the lockscreen were reminders of the team that helped reconstructing him after the harshest times, over there. Two years. He entered his pin.

Pablo had gotten him a French SIM card, to avoid useless spending from overseas fees. Always trying to please his son, he'd even gotten him a plan with limitless data. A smile crept on Tag's lips as he remembered his father's embarrassed enthusiasm as he presented it to Tag. The care he put in keeping Tag's spirit up really touched the boy deep inside him, spreading a sweet warmth in his chest.

He logged in and scrolled aimlessly in the street football forum. He saw his Argentinian team's post to recruit a new player to fill the vacancy he left behind. He read the patch notes and updates uploaded by Shark, saved the planning for the summer that was just beginning. Even online, this was home.

Two knocks on the window. Tag turned: it was his father.

"We finished the big part, you can come if you want."

Tag nodded. He opened the door. Pablo smiled, a smile that crinkled his eyes, and gestured to Tag who threw him the ball. Hands now free, Tag grabbed his crutches and got out of the van.

"We're going to order pizza before starting the next part with a smaller crowd," Pablo announced.

The next part in question, Tag could take part in it. Unwrap the essentials, put things in place here and there, put the sheets on the bed and pillows - that he could do, even with a nonfunctional leg.

They had arrived in France a few days earlier, bringing with them only a suitcase of essentials. The rest of it had been sent by plane and, before it got there, Tag and his father had stayed in a hotel. That had been for the best because the jetlag had kicked his ass and a move in these conditions would have been... Tag would rather not think about it, actually. Not that he could have helped much, anyway, but that sure wouldn't have helped his already dubious mood.

Pablo opened the door for him and Tag greeted everyone with a "hello" that barely escaped his lips. Pablo apologized silently on behalf of his son but no one paid any mind to the teenager's attitude. Pablo put the ball with the rest of his son's stuff and gestured for him to sit beside him on the couch. The house was rented furnished.

Some pizza, intensive unpacking and a strategic retreat of remaining packages in the corners later, Tag and Pablo stood alone in their new palace. This was too big a word for such an unimpressive little house, especially for Tag who had known the Riffler mansion - but next to the towers in nearing neighborhoods, this sure came off as a little cozy palace.

Tag rubbed his thigh mindlessly, in the vain hope that this would help with the pain. He grabbed his painkillers from his bag and swallowed a pill. His knee was throbbing.

"Good!" Pablo exclaimed, hands on his hips, contemplating with satisfaction how far they had come. "For everything else, we'll go slow and progressively. Things will be peaceful from now on."

That sure would be a relative peace, Tag thought. They'd have to sign him up for high-school in a hurry before they all closed for the summer, there was his dad's new job beginning soon, and last but not least, they'd have to find a doctor still accepting new patients for Tag's knee's counter-visit. Fucking hassling paperwork. But Pablo was so enthusiastic that Tag could only agree with a smile. He had so wanted this diplomatic job in France!

Tag grabbed his phone and sent - via an online messaging app to avoid spending more than needed - a picture of him, his father in the background, in their new living room still obscured with packages.

Tag- Officially done with the move 👍

He knew none of them would see his text before the end of the afternoon - they were never online before then.

This felt weird, counting the hours backwards from what he was used to.

Then he sent an MMS to Gabriel, joining the same picture.

Tag- Guess where I'm at

Of course, Gabriel didn't answer either. Despite the end of the school year, he must have been studying his ass off or helping out his parents's association.

Welcome home.... But well, there was only Port-Marie, in France, he really considered home. This close to the capital city, this might as well have been yet another foreign country. Gabriel's nearby presence did nothing to help, what with how free to chat he was.

His knee was throbbing, despite the painkiller. He sent a message to Shark.

Tag- sup brother, i'm back in France

Shark- sup Tag, it's nice hearing from you. in what part of it?

Tag couldn't help a smile, big and frank this time. There were still people he could count on, huh?

Tag- Mère-Sainte-Yvette, near Paris

Shark- 👍

Shark: there're bunch of teams there, you'll find one for you in no time

Shark- counting on ya to be here in august

Tag- thanks

Tag- i'll do everything i can

And at the moment, all he could was three weeks of rest, juggling in their small garden with his one functional leg. As soon as the doc would give him the okay, nothing would be able hold him back anymore.

[bestworstcase]

If the Silver Eyes are more aligned with Death/The Void than Light, then is it possible that what they affect could be substantially broader than just Grimm? Death/The Void comes for all, Human, Grimm, Faunus and in a sense Gods alike, and the power of the Silver Eyes might relate to that.

In that sense, Cinder isn't just getting hurt because she's part-Grimm, it's because Ruby explicitly wants to use the Silver Eyes to HARM her, and the Silver Eyes' power is tied to this desire to harm or protect, and how much it damages the target is affected as a result. Thus, any subsequent uses after V3 have been less effective because Cinder is not only getting more resilient/more guarded against it, but also because Ruby's motives have changed from harming Cinder to trying to keep Cinder away from her loved ones.

The reason why Ruby can't figure this out yet is because she's still struggling with her own faulty understanding of the Silver Eyes due to messy information and her own inner psychological issues screwing up her ability to master them.

ough i talk about this periodically so here is some background reading: pattern theory (tangential, this is about death in remnant generally) + some observations on the beacon tower glare. i have some older posts pertaining specifically to cinder and the glare too but i don’t have have the energy to go looking for them rn. anyway!

my theory is that it isn’t related to anything ruby thinks or feels or wants – but rather, cinder’s vulnerability to the glare is directly connected to her killing people.

first observation: cinder uses her right hand to summon the grimm beetle, and if any residual grimm remains inside her body afterward, it makes the most sense for it to stay in her right arm, yes? or at least her right side. but the first glare destroys her left arm and her left eye.

second observation: while ice queendom is an ancillary text, not necessarily canonical, i think it is worth noting that ruby’s glare destroys one of the nightmares infesting weiss, while both she and the grimm are literally inside weiss’s head, and weiss of course does not come to any harm. this tracks with maria’s assertion that the glare only harms grimm. the actual question with regard to cinder is why did the glare burn her human flesh?, because ‘she had parts of a grimm inside her’ isn’t actually an explanation.

we have never, ever seen a glare harm somebody who happened to be touching, or close to, a grimm in any other context. if cinder had something grimm inside her body and the glare destroyed that, there is no reason to think that this would hurt cinder. it would just remove the grimm, leaving her unharmed.

(sidebar: this is why nobody in salem’s inner circle, including cinder, has brought up “grimm” as a possible explanation. the fanon that cinder either 1. doesn’t know the glare hurts grimm even though the rest of her colleagues are clearly informed about silver eyes and openly discuss it in front of her, or 2. somehow hasn’t put two and two together to work out that her grimm parts are vulnerable to the magical power that destroys grimm, is nonsense. nobody in salem’s employ is confused about the glare hurting grimm, the question is how and why it hurt cinder.)

third observation: when cinder killed amber, claiming the other half of the fall maiden, her left eye is the one that ‘received’ the flames (her right eye having lit up when she took the first half). minutes later, she uses her left hand to kill pyrrha. symbolically, at least, the glare takes from her 1. her victory in killing amber (the eye) and 2. the hand with which she murdered pyrrha, ruby’s friend.

i think that this goes beyond mere symbolism – i think this is also what happens in the literal sense at the top of beacon tower. the glare taps into the liminal boundary between life and death, and in that moment cinder was (as pyrrha’s killer, and amber’s killer, and all three of them having been linked through this tug-of-war over the fall maiden) entangled with that boundary, so the glare burned her.

(i think this is also why salem – working with very limited information about what happened – believes that becoming the maiden is what left cinder vulnerable: she’s not referring to the magic but rather to the act of killing necessary to become the maiden. salem is unlikely to know the exact sequence of events leading up to the glare and cinder frankly may not have even mentioned killing pyrrha at all; we know that cinder was cagey about whether she did or didn’t kill ozpin, so there is every possibility that salem said “it’s because of the maiden” while under the impression that the girl cinder killed right before ruby struck her was the maiden.)

this also tracks, i think, with what we see with subsequent glares. the partial one at haven causes what seems to be a lot of pain in cinder’s grimm arm, but doesn’t harm cinder herself. (also jaune, who is openly death-seeking at that point in time, flinches from the light—he’s the only one who does, aside from cinder.)

in 7.13 cinder mows through a lot of soldiers to get to fria’s room, but it isn’t clear that she kills any of them (as combatants these people would be aura-trained, and cinder was in a hurry; it’s probable that she just plowed through and left them dazed / injured / aura-broken behind her, bowling pins style) – and then she doesn’t kill winter or penny or fria before ruby blasts her, and again we see that it causes pain in her grimm arm without harming cinder herself.

i think there is some grounds for thinking that the glare itself can also be resisted – the fact that cinder’s grimm arm hurts but isn’t destroyed is suggestive. given the nature of the glare itself, empowered by “the desire to preserve life,” my thinking here is that the defense against it is self-preservation – cinder (i believe) chose that arm and has embraced it as part of herself, and so whenever she’s hit by one of ruby’s glares what happens to the arm is a contest between ruby’s desire to protect her friends from cinder vs cinder’s desire to protect herself (including her arm) from ruby.

[eri-pl]

Ok, so I have a very silly and probably barely applicable question, but what with Morgoth-canary and I think I remember a post where you said you had very strong opinions about Maglor's voice (I don't remember them, it was one of those "blink and it's gone" posts of my feed ! But I'd like to read them if you feel like it - although I don't know the first thing about music so it's just really sheer curiosity), so I was wondering if you had thoughts about Morgoth's voice ? What could Ainuric voices be like ? And did taking permanent physical form affect his voice ? Probably, right ? He wouldn't have been able to modulate/change it quite as much as before, maybe be stuck with a classically villainy "evil" one ? And then in the void he would have no voice anymore.

Ooooh! Thank you for this question, it's great!

First, Maglor. He is a bass. Well, not really, because I'm certain that Elves have wider vocal ranges, but his speaking voice is rather low, and his singing voice is varied, but can go super low, vibrations-in-your-bones low, and his songs are generally low on pitch. Like the sea. The sea does not squeek.

This is one of the headcanons I will argue about. I am rather strong in my opinions about Maglor. I would rather agree on "Maglor in the Darkness Everlasting"* than on tenor Maglor.

Oh, so now to the king of fools, lord of nothing, Melkor in his various iterations. Starting back when he wasn't such an idiot yet. Standard Morgoth content warning: we'll be doing a short recap of his history. No details, just allusions to events.

So, Ainulindale. which is my favorite chapter. Melkor was the greatest of the Ainur, which means, I think, he had a relatively wide vocal range, well wider than all the other Ainur.

But also, he was a little bint (word thanks to dfw), and taking into account all the band kid stereotypes… OK, tbh I know exactly one professional soprano, who also plays violin, and she's really nice and the only other things she's got in common with Melkor are the fear of spiders and cool hair. But, this being said, the personality stereotypes say that Melkor should be a soprano.

The Ainur's voices aren't gender-coded, I would say. If they even had the idea of gender at that point.

So, he can do many things, but he generally sings in a high pitch, because this makes everyone notice him.

Also, musically... so, this is that thing called chromatic notes. It's a think that jazz does (and I love jazz, I have mental associacions with jazz that would make tolkien chase me with an axe, but let's not digress). Like: when you compare Chopin to Mozart; Chopin is way more chromatic.

So, Melkor doesn't do it. He sings his own dumb melody, which is in a dissonance to everyone else initially (which means it is chromatic in the context of the whole Music), but internally it is simple. It is fifths, lates I would say he just repeats one note on and on, just in many octaves. And the note is probably B. Or maybe G flat.

OK, in non-musical terms: imagine someone is playing a piano (in a normal, mostly-white-keys way), and someone else is banging on the black keys, and then only on all the Gb keys. It's loud but primitive. And doesn't fit until you go Chopin and everything becomes lyrical and so sad, and then he can't really break it, I can't explain it well.

TLDR: Extremely simple harmony, but loud and not in the normal key.

Also, I wanted to talk about power chords but I don't think you want another musical tangent. (They're not as cool as they sound, they're empty-ish inside but it kinda works in the context)

Then they all go to Arda and at some point begin speaking properly. Iirc it's only after the Elves, but I assume the Ainur did have some sounds associated with them even before.

So Melkor's general sound landscape would again be empty inside. Some very loud tones, because they feel majestic: thunder rumbling, ice grinding, earthquake and the murmur of volcano, you can feel it in your bones and it's terryfying. Some very high tones, because they are effective and hard to miss. Evil screeching. No middle tones, because he's an idiot he finds them boring. Empty shell, like an epic movie soundtrack compised by a first-year student of music school and played on a midi. All the trappings but none of the actual work.

His voice, during the Black Rider phase would be similar. Low and rumbling and terryfying, but everytime he gets emotional it becomes high-pitched and has this infuriating timbre of when people talk with a very tense throat. It makes him sound insecure. Because he is. And when beaten by Tulkas he screams like this.

Then we have the parole and I do hc that he actually meant to be better, only he imagined it like "I stop breaking your stuff, and messing with the little beings, and you start listening to me like you listen to Manwë (= you do all I want you to do)" and was not really interested in putting in the effort. So the whole idea broke at the first problems (the city is so pretty, not everyone likes me, Feanor).

Anyway in his Aman phase I imagine Melkor with relatively low voice, but not so low it's weird. He fits in the nornal Elven spectrum. Baritone? Getting higher with the pitch when needed, but rarely he would let his emotions show enough to go very high.

Also, the sweet manner of talking that Sauron had as Annatar or in Numenor, but not so self-deprecating. Less of a "I'm but a humble servant" and more of "I am pretty cool, hey, want to do cool things with me?" The general vibe of a bad boy in a teenage romantic drama. Elongated syllabes, using all the most recent and fashionable Noldorin mannerisns (sa-si all the way!). Also, a lot of whispering, when he spreads the gossip and what not. "Sexy voice" but with his lack of understanding and respect for bounduaries it often feels creepy.

Then he grows more and more sinister, more focused on revenge against the Noldor (well, Feanor) and the Valar. His voice becomes more like a low-key Disney villain. The pitch is unchanged, but the tone is full of suggestions of subtext. It's never clear, but a lot of insinuations are hanging in the air. this kind of slithery, musical intonation in a sentence, elongating of wovels, slightly question-like tone too often. (I can't give you a good example, Scar would be a good example, but only in the Polish dub)

Then he does the Ungoliant business and gets stuck in his Dark Lord form. So, I would say low, booming voice, but flat (=not many overtones, the voice sounds shallow). Loud and with echo, but somehow not as majestic as he would like it. And when he gets scared or lusty or anyhow agitated, he starts talking faster and in a higher voice and with clenched throat.

And he gradually deteriorates, due to Silmarils and general awfulness, and his voice becomes more raspy, more noisy. At the end it's impossible to ascribe a set pitch to it, just like to white noise. Still it doesn't have tones in the middle, but the highs and lows are a mess, and closer to each other, the lacking middle is more narrow. And he doesn't speak much near the end, he's not that interested in any communication. Especially after trying to talk (ekhm) with Lúthien ended like it did. His voice rusts.

And at the end it's just panicked screams that sound more like ….not even an animal. More like a mindless dark creature than like a person. Switching between threats and pleading and pure panic, always full of hatered and disdain. Loud but always so very flat.

And then, upon hearing all those screams, Manwë realizes that the brother he remembers is gone, and that he can't do anything about it— how can you do a reprise without one of the main singers? And even if you could, how can you be happy forever missing someone you love? He doesn't know. I don't know. I am sad.

On one hand the very idea of Second Music is so wonderful and answers so many questions and Aegnor and Andreth and Elrond and Elross and all that and more— and I can't imagine Manwë thinking about this idea and not thinking at the back of his head "my brother won't be with us" and not being sad. I am not saying it's not possible. Just that I can't wrap my mind around it. Or my feelings.

Yes, this is one of my attractors, one of the topics I usually land on. Because. Reasons. Which I will not ramble about because they are personal. But it does make me sad. A lot.

I have some scenes in my head when people Valar talk about this, Nienna obv, she doesn't get it either, many people would probably say she would get it idk

Anyway that's it. That's the post. Sorry it's not more concrete.

[cairoscene]

14 and 15 for lover be good to me and also 5 for lipstick on the glass!!!

wow sorry i decided i needed to reread my fics to answer and then i didn’t do that for 20 days. anyway

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

for context lover be good to me is my ghostbat feelings depository and tbh…. when i wrote it i set out to a) exorcise porn thoughts and b) convert people into reading batman: the knight. that’s pretty much it. i’m still quite self-conscious of it having written it as a general non-comics reader but i did read and enjoy btk and kind of wanted to seduce other people into my little world where we’re pretending that this version of batman is the only batman (for now).

now i would say i want readers to learn about the appeal of ghostbat. its a dead ship rip minhkhoa khan dc never knew how to write you anyway queen BUT. i think they have a lot of merit

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

lover be good to me was really important to me when i wrote it because it taught me i could write again. i’m the kind of writer who is both unmotivated and extremely self-conscious and afraid of Making Bad Art, which means i go very long periods where i don’t write anything. at all. currently in one of those btw. this fic taught me that i can write, and will write, and when i do the results are not perfect but they are compelling and worthwhile

5: What part was hardest to write?

lipstick on the glass is mostly fun silly gushy timkon and tbh it flowed out of me fairly painlessly. i had two specific scenes in mind and let myself write just those and nothing else, no complications, so i remember the process being smooth. tbh the hardest part was realizing i had to come up with halloween costumes for everyone and floundering. thankfully @vinelark came up with void nexus jerry and that took care of pretty much everything

ask meme in question

[beneath-the-null-moon]

Movie posters at the Reverie Theater

(Spoilers for endings of the game and for the works mentioned)

Return to Owl Creek Bridge

"Back for a happier ending!" A lot of American students read Ambrose Bierce's short story "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge" (1890) in school, but you might have also seen the French film that also ran as a special episode of The Twilight Zone. It isn't the first instance of "life lived in an instant" or "theater of the dying mind" in world literature, but it has inspired many, many others. As such, if you want to hint at the idea that the story of Silent Hill 2 might--might--be happening in a man's mind, in an instant, this is the best-known title to achieve that. @idoherty451 and I feel like this specifically resonates with the ending "In Water," which could be stand as the first in a collective of endings, a process James goes through--the one that takes him from life to an after-life cycle where he has a chance, maybe, to make amends.

Artificial Sky

I feel like this is a reference to Vanilla Sky (2001), the Cameron Crowe/Tom Cruise remake of Alejandro Amenábar's Abre los ojos (1997). I'm not sure how much I should spoil, except that the premise has a bit in common with the questionable reality of Silent Hill, and something happens to the Penélope Cruz character that is... extremely relevant to SH2.

Non-Existence

This might be a reference to David Cronenberg's Existenz (1999), which I remember watching back when I worked at a video store. It involves a very fleshy video game console and multiple layers of virtual reality. And of course, on a literal level, "non-existence" picks up on the liminal unreality of Silent Hill (see also: "FAKE"). The poster itself reminds me slightly of Never Let Me Go (2010).

I Was Here

Ian noticed that the tagline is "The void screams back," although I don't know how the hell he even made the lettering out. I don't have a specific movie idea for this one. It could suit James and his many loop iterations pretty well, in line with the Glimpses of the Past, or even an interpretation that James has been Dead All Along--I was here, but now I'm not.

As people have pointed out, the poster is a bit reminiscent of the first Glimpse of the Past, where James met his first lying figure in the original. A point of view from behind a chain link fence seems like a very specific visual statement--James is trapped in Silent Hill, or even specifically a time loop there? But a quick image search didn't turn up a poster that seemed thematically or spot-on visually relevant to this, except maybe an alternate DVD cover for George Romero's Land of the Dead (2005). And then, "relevant" only in the most tangential, conceptual, brightly-colored way. (Honestly, the mood and color palette of I Was Here gives me more of a war movie vibe.) But, given the title and the presence of shambling monsters: fair enough, if so.

Remember Her

Okay, now we've got a title so generic that we're going to have to dig into IMDB. Of films with "remember" in the title, there's multiple movies called Remember Me (including the Robert Pattinson vehicle with the ending that pissed everyone off in 2010). Remember You, a 2016 Korean film, has an interesting plot summary in the context of SH2, but it's not a direct parallel. Re/Member, a 2022 Japanese horror film, involves a time loop and a "Red Person." And all of this is a heroic amount of research on my part, sure, but looking at the poster, I think it has a much older vibe--maybe 1940s, maybe 1980s. This one is, most likely, just a blunt "HEY, REMEMBER MARY" reminder from James' brain. I just didn't want to be lazy and not put the effort in, you know?

It Doesn't See

As a bonus, there's this shit. Unlike the other movie posters, you only see one copy of this, and it's just propped up on the floor, discarded. I think the title was meant to be It Doesn't Sleep, with the L and P removed so that it says It Doesn't S ee. (I'm convinced that this is based on a classic late 19th/early 20th century painting, maybe a Waterhouse? But I cannot for the life of me remember--or find--which one.) I don't know if the image itself relates more to the female-led cult of SH1/SH3, but "not seeing" (the truth) seems like it fits James as well. I did a couple of searches at IMDB and that's all I'm doing this time.