#especially the fragmented mind theory

[shiningstarr15]

I need to share my thoughts now that everyone’s basically been made aware of

Still just as precaution

SPOILERS FOR THE “ESCAPE THE PIZZAPLEX” BOOK

-

-

Ok, now that that’s taken care of. Here’s my thoughts.

Yes I do think that the way this book was handled was.. less than ideal. Cassie does not seem to be very much in character from what we see of her in Ruin. BUT.. as far as Greg’s character goes.. I don’t think it’s entirely ooc.

Bc while they do not explicitly state it, it’s very clear this is GGY we’re dealing with. Not Greg. I dont see any evidence stating otherwise. So the question of why he doesn’t act the way he does in the story GGY?

Guys, I’m telling you. GGY and Vanny are not that far removed from Gregory and Vanessa. They are not the opposite personality, they are the true personalities and traits just AMPLIFIED.

Please there’s SOO much evidence to prove it! Gregory was described as being a prankster and having dark humor. Which is fine. So then once the virus takes over and he becomes GGY, obviously some of those traits will still linger, especially in the beginning, as we saw with Vanessa in the ar emails

Which brings me to my next point. I’ve said since the beginning that I believed this is taking place BEFORE GGY (as in the story) and now, I fully believe it.

I believe Gregory was the one to befriend Cassie, and it was only shortly after that he was targeted to become the next follower (it’s possible he was being stalked by Vanny at the time of his and Cassie’s meeting, but that’s a heavy speculation) and instead of Cassie being the last supposed victim, she was supposed to be the FIRST. THE TEST.

Bc think about it. Tony and Ellis are not mentioned, bc they haven’t shown up yet. Vanessa is not yet at the pizzaplex as a security guard, she’s still at the Funtime services (we know she transfers AFTER Greg becomes GGY due to the therapy tapes) and it would make sense that early on in the possession, that virus would still be tinkering around with the traits.

So yea, I fully believe that timeline wise, it can work. The idea can work.

The story itself however, is the problem

The way it’s executed is in very poor taste of the characters. Cassie is dumbed down tremendously, and the way it’s described as how “Gregory” tampered with the programming is very lackluster.

I personally believe this was an attempt to give Cassie a bigger incentive to become the next big antagonist. Bc even if it wasn’t Gregory that was trying to hurt her in the book or who dropped the elevator in ruin, she THINKS it was. Which would allow the virus/mimic/glitchtrap the perfect opportunity to morph and manipulate her into the perfect victim, the one more WILLING to have their mind altered.

However. I think this could’ve easily been done without the need to make Gregory’s character look bad by comparison. It just feels lazy to me if you need to make one character look bad simply to make the other look better. Again, it more than likely is GGY. But bc it’s never STATED as such, we don’t have any actual evidence to fall back on.

So yea, could this kind of story theoretically work for the timeline? Yes. But it needed SERIOUS editing and alterations. Cassie simply wouldn’t keep falling for the same stuff multiple times in a row. And there didn’t need to be more incentive for Cassie to become the next big bad. She already has it with ruin.

But yea, that’s my two cents on the whole thing. If I use it for anything, it’ll be heavily tweaked. Bc the way the story is now.. it’s just.. not great

[ryttu3k]

So I got up to the Mystra scene in my Gale Origin run and I have A Lot of thoughts, most of them boiled down to "FIGHT ME, MYSTRA", but also a theory on Mystra orchestrating the whole thing with the Orb. Few too many caps to post all of them, so I've typed them up. My comments in parentheses.

Narrator: "Just as Elminster promised, you stand before no ordinary idol. Beneath the silent stone surges a relentless current of purest Weave. A summoning channel, the kind commanded by Mystra herself. How many times have you dreamed of this moment? An audience with the goddess who loved you. Who abandoned you. All you have to do is reach for it…"

(Shift of expression here - from fear to determination.)

Halsin: "Speak your mind, Gale. Let go of that weight you have been carrying for Mystra."

(I loved Halsin speaking up here! Unsure if it's a romance-only line but it felt very sweet and appropriate.)

Reach out. Go to Mystra.

(Expression of dread. He looks like he's being sent to the gallows.)

Mystra: "Gale of Waterdeep. You look well."

Gale: "You break up with me, cut me off from the Weave, leave me to die, and that's all you have to say? You look well?"

(First response to seeing Mystra after a full year of pain and suffering. He looks anguished seeing her again, and how... dismissive her response is.)

Mystra: "I did not come here to suffer a mortal's admonitions. Certainly not yours. I've been watching your journey here. Your triumphs. Your temptations. Your doubts. You discovered what lies at the Heart of the Absolute - the Crown of Karsus - and you disobeyed my instruction. Why?"

(1. The 'certainly not yours' feels especially callous. 2. The way she phrases this implies that she knew what it was already. She wasn't sending Gale to kill himself to destroy a new god, she was sending Gale to kill himself to destroy an elder brain wearing a Crown that has previously threatened her personally.)

Gale: "Because my life isn't yours to throw away. You had no right to ask that of me."

Mystra: "You were my lover, my Chosen, yet still you know so little of me. I hoped hindsight would help you see what you could not perceive before. Do you understand why I severed our connection?"

(The hell is hindsight supposed to do? This is one of the biggest things that gets to me with the whole Orb thing - how was he supposed to know?)

Gale: "I let you down. I was a fool, and fools don't deserve the love of a goddess."

(Expression - he looks so hurt here. He absolutely blames himself.)

Mystra: "The past cannot be undone with self-pity, nor can a future be forged. Only with the truth will you see the way ahead. The fragment of magic you tried to return to me was not of my creation. It was the Karsite Weave. It is a corrupted, half-born magic wrought in the brief moment Karsus ascended to godhood. It hungers for power just as he did, and it can never be sated. You unleashed something that would consume all magic in existence, and yet you thought only of preserving yourself."

(So she blames him for unleashing the Orb. Again, how was he supposed to know? Probably the only ones who know about Karsite Weave were Karsus himself, Mystra, and probably Ao. How was a thirty-four-year-old mortal human dude supposed to know of a completely new and unknown form of magic that existed for the approximately six and a half seconds Karsus was a god for? Elminster points out at one point that Mystra is omniscient. Gale is not. How was he supposed to know? Second, 'you thought only of preserving yourself'. She left him to die! And the minor issue of if he did die, he'd take out Waterdeep in the process!)

Gale: "I never intended to do harm. Only to prove myself worthy of you."

Mystra: "You were already worthy. What you lacked was patience, and it cost you dearly. When the Karsite Weave entered your body, your gifts were the first things it consumed. The only reason the 'orb' sleeps is because I have allowed it to feed on the true Weave - a temporary measure, but one that will not be enough to save us. With each day that passes, the elder brain threatens to become a new kind of god, its worshippers a scourge of soulless illithids. If you will not use the orb to end this abomination, then you must find a way to separate Crown and host. When you've done this, you must surrender the Crown to me. Perform this service, and I will see you cured. You will be forgiven."

(1. 'Your gifts were the first things it consumed'. Sorcerer Gale, natch. 2. So that more or less implies that she could have stablised the Orb at any time. Even if she couldn't - for whatever the reason - warn him about it ahead of time, she could have still prevented the year he spent in pain, the year he spent weakened, desperate, isolated, and depressed, the year he spent thinking that one wrong move would not only kill him but destroy all of Waterdeep with him! She didn't just risk him out of spite, she risked a two-million strong population!)

Gale: "You're the mother of all magic, the Weave incarnate. Can't you just destroy the Crown yourself?"

(His expression is downcast for most of the conversation. Here, he finally looks up. Beseeching. Not just, "Why couldn't you do this?", but also, "Why couldn't you prevent this?")

Mystra: "It is not my place to destroy another god's creation, however temporarily he joined the pantheon. It must be you, Gale. You are the one who carries Karsus' power within you. You are the only one who can."

(But of course, it's entirely her place for her Chosen to do it for her. Will get back to this point in a moment.)

Gale: "Very well. The next time we meet, I'll be bringing you the Crown."

Mystra: "Thank you. May the Weave's light guide your purpose, and its wisdom guide your hand. The future of magic rests on your shoulders, Gale of Waterdeep. I promise you - it is a burden you are strong enough to bear."

(Yeah, the Weave's guided him great so far. No pressure!)

So, there's a couple of questions here.

First, what did Gale believe he was doing?

He believed he was restoring a fragment of Mystra's lost Weave to her. He knows that Karsus' Folly was the crux of it, but all he knows - all he possibly can know, at this point - is that magic was restored except for one fragment. He wanted to be seen to be worthy of Mystra, and so believed that restoring that fragment to her would be both a symbol of love and devotion, and also something that'd be of tangible help to her.

Indeed, he thought he was carrying out her mission. "The goal of Mystra's faithful is simple: that magic be preserved and promulgated throughout the Realms." Was it perhaps a sliiight sign of hubris that he wanted to do it to prove himself worthy of her love and admiration? A little, yeah, but what else did she expect? He had been groomed since childhood to be the greatest wizard he possibly could. He was thirty-four, he was Mystra's Chosen and lover, he knows mortals can be elevated to higher powers. This very incarnation of Mystra only became so in 1358, after being one of Mystra's followers!

Ambitious, yes. But he never wanted to supplant her. He wanted to be seen as worthy and perhaps achieve apotheosis, which is exactly what she did herself.

Second, though, and more importantly, is what did Mystra see Gale doing?

She is, per Elminster, omniscient. She can sense any magic being used. She knows when Gale just reads the Annals of Karsus. She had to have known that what her Chosen was about to unleash was Karsite Weave, and...

She opted to do nothing, let Gale nearly be killed by the orb, let him suffer for a year, then tell him to fix it by killing himself, only when the Crown itself came back into play.

Think of it from Mystra's perspective. The year is 1491 DR. She's spent a good chunk of her actual godhood dead and has only relatively recently been restored, although she has, at this point, indeed been fully restored to all her powers. One of her Chosen is a young human wizard named Gale, who she's also taken as her lover. Gale is ambitious - of course he is, he's an insanely talented Chosen wizard - and actively wants to please her.

The Crown of Karsus is sealed away in Mephistopheles' vaults. The Orb of Karsus is sealed away in a book. (Who knows where the Sceptre is.) She knows it's a threat, but one that's currently under control.

She sees her Chosen approach the book the Orb is sealed in. She must realise that her Chosen has no idea what's in it, because she's well aware he's never read the Annals of Karsus, and he certainly wasn't there at the time. What's the more logical response here?

Tell your Chosen that what's sealed in the book is an extremely dangerous form of anti-magic that is an immediate threat to you, to him, and to everyone around him, and that if he isn't willing to just leave it alone, he should instead destroy it for you, or

Let your Chosen unleash it without warning him, nearly killing him and posing a very real threat to two million people until it's stabilised, which you can do at any time but don't?

She must have been thrilled when the Crown was stolen, right around the same time. Suddenly, she has a way to rid herself of the blight of Karsus - use one artefact to destroy the other! Never mind that one of those artefacts is currently lodged in the chest of her Chosen and doing so would kill him and a great many others, she's got rid of a greater threat.

The Crown was stolen and Gale was hit by the Orb around the same time, a year before the game. Which came first? What if the Crown was stolen first, what if Mystra grew worried about it because look at what happened last time, and, knowing that one of the only things strong enough to destroy the Crown would be another of Karsus' artefacts, she deliberately guided Gale to it? What if she intentionally abandoned him in order to prime him to want to do anything he could to gain her forgiveness, which she could conveniently grant if only he used the Orb to destroy the Crown?

Either way, it was cruel. If it was just sheer neglect that saw her fail to warn him, it was also stupid. She's omniscient. She could have warned Gale any time. She could have stablised the Orb at any time. Why leave him to suffer? Was it petty sadism, or did she always intend to use him as a tool to destroy the Crown, and never mind the consequences?

She's already willing to sacrifice half the Sword Coast to an illithid invasion if it means getting rid of the Crown. What's one more life?

Hashtag fight me Mystra, hashtag Gale deserves better.

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 6

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Getting answers out of Norris has proven quite challenging. Your disagreement with Azriel is weighting on you more than you thought it would.

Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore

Word Count: 5550

Notes: This took me a bit longer to write than I anticipated but I wanted to make sure not to forget any details. Hope you enjoy!

Part 5 ○ Part 7

The sun was already shining high in the sky when you finally stepped out of the dungeon. Feyre had arrived with Cassian and Amren a few minutes earlier, ordering her mate, you and Azriel to go and get some rest while they took over for a few hours. Rhysand could only use his daemati powers for so long and the strain was starting to become visible on his face, so she likely could feel his fatigue through their mating bond. His efforts were starting to be in vain anyway, you needed to wear Norris down a lot more physically before his mental walls would start giving in.

You didn't want to leave at first, completely unwilling to take your eyes off Norris for even a second, but both you and Azriel had been forced to go take a bath and eat something, maybe even get some sleep and only come back later in the day. Logically this made perfect sense, but you'd rather stay with him until he told you everything you wanted to know. You believe them all to be more than capable of handling this but you also know Norris, if anyone could find a way to escape from the Night Court's dungeons it would be him.

Still, you knew it was going to take a lot longer than a few hours to crack Norris so you needed to keep your strength, you wouldn't be any help at all if you exhausted yourself. Apparently the same wards around your memories were also present in Norris' mind, meaning Rhysand was only able to knock him out in the forest but not read through his thoughts, the same way he wasn't able to reach your memories before. This meant he was the one in control of said wards, both his and yours. Amren was quick to explain that since they had been done with the help of a witch's tool, he had to have it with him to keep up his wards since it wasn't his own magic that was keeping them in place.

It also explains why he risked becoming your handler even though letting you know him could lead to this exact outcome. He needed to strengthen your wards every once in a while to make sure no memory slipped through them. Unfortunately, even without his checkups the wards were strong enough that simply time wouldn't give your memories back in full, at best only letting you see some fragments. There was also no way of knowing what they could do to your mind when left unattended so your only option was to keep pushing him until he told you everything you needed to know.

The tool he used couldn't be far, he either had it on his person or hid it somewhere close before meeting you in the forest. You've searched through his belongings more than once, as did everyone present in the cell, including Azriel's shadows, but came up empty. He likely had a powerful glamour cast on it, one you had to make him break. Getting your hands on that tool meant you could break both the wards around his mind, which would grant Rhysand access to any and every piece of information he wanted, and the wards keeping your memories hidden inside you. One simple object could set you free.

Azriel winnowed you to the middle of the mountains surrounding Velaris, right behind the House of Wind, making sure no one in the city could see your bodies drenched in blood but unable to winnow you straight home. Having a house protected by wards that didn't allow for any winnowing, even by its inhabitants, was really good in theory, you've never seen a safer place really, but in practice having to fly up every time was more than annoying, especially when you don't have wings of your own.

The air was strangely awkward around the two of you since you hadn't spoken a word to each other after the short argument in the forest. Most of your annoyance had worn off at this point, got redirected at your smug handler chained up in the dungeon, but you still wanted him to be the one to come to you and explain himself. His attitude earlier had seemed completely different from everything you'd experienced until then, you know there's a reason for it but you're too prideful to ask him about it.

The only plausible reason you could think of is that he's been using you to get to an assassin with a higher up position in the guild, but something told you immediately that wasn't the case, it seems like a part of you balked at the thought that he'd betray you like this. Even putting your annoying phantom feelings aside, it didn't make sense considering the High Lord has followed his word on letting you help in interrogating Norris. Your mind was fresh out of ideas, and much too tired to analyze that small argument. He'll tell you what happened eventually, and if he doesn't… Well, then it's a good thing you didn't get your hopes up even more.

“I'll fly you up to the House,” his voice was scratchy from not being used in so long, making it deeper as he almost whispered beside you, not wanting to disturb the quietness in the mountain. Azriel had done most of the cutting and breaking but he hadn't even asked Norris any questions, content in letting you and Rhysand take over the interrogation while he carved out Norris' skin. You can't be sure if it was because of your fight or just the grueling last few hours but he didn't seem to be in the best mood anyway.

You nod up at him, simply walking closer and letting him pick you up into his warm embrace, strong hands careful as they handle your body. You've only flown once - from what you can remember at least, you can't imagine a version of yourself who wouldn't ask her husband to take her flying regularly if he had wings - and, given the circumstances, you didn't really have the chance to stop and truly enjoy the moment. It would be the same now, even worse given the fact that you'd rather not deal with the shadowsinger, but the breeze hitting against your tired body sounded heavenly, and so did the big bathtub and soft mattress waiting for you up in your room. There was also no energy left in your body to even try to argue with him, if there was you would have been using it on your handler.

His body relaxes slightly when you simply slip your arms around his neck, his wings stretching and flapping a couple of times as he got ready to take flight. He looked like he was expecting you to refuse, as if there was any other way to the House besides flying and he wasn't the only Illyrian here.

The actual flight doesn't take long, within a few moments Azriel is gently setting you down back on your feet at the top of the stairs, hands lingering on your body as if moving on their own, a habit he can't quite break himself out of. You meet his eyes, briefly wondering if you should say something, debating if you have enough patience in yourself to extend a small olive branch to the male who is covered in the blood of your enemy.

He beats you to it, looking down before speaking as if he couldn't hold your gaze for top long - yet another way he's acting out of character. “You're free to do what you want. I'll meet you in your room and fly you back to the dungeon when it's time. I won't bother you before that.” The professional, detached tone in his voice makes your annoyance want to rise up but you swallow it down, realizing how tired you really were as soon as you had stepped foot inside the house.

“Alright,” you tell him before turning around and walking straight to your room, never looking back to see his reaction or the way regret flashes in his eyes as he watches your every step away from him.

Azriel stayed true to his word, only coming to check in on you right before it was time to return. You can't even be sure if he stayed in his room the whole time, if he truly spent these few hours resting as he was ordered since there was no sound coming from his room or around the house at all. Curiosity had gotten the best of you a couple of hours ago, when you woke up from your nap feeling strangely alone, like a piece of you was begging to go find him. This feeling was clutching at your heart for long enough that you actually considered going to find Azriel, but held on since you didn't fully know your way around the house and you had no idea where he could be. You didn't really know what to say either.

Luckily it wasn't long until you heard his footsteps getting closer to your room before a soft knock sounded at the door. He always does this, makes sure to let himself be heard before knocking. Sitting up at the edge of the mattress, you call out to him, wondering if he'll tell you anything now or simply fly you back to the cells.

As soon as his form comes into view you can tell he hasn't slept much if anything at all, dark circles prominent under his eyes. He's at least taken a bath, the sullied leathers were now replaced with new ones, the stench of blood not clinging to him anymore. You're wearing some yourself, your old ones as you've been told. Your clothes were ruined and putting them back on would defeat the purpose of the bath you took earlier, but it feels weird to wear a version of what you always see Azriel and his family in. He takes notice of this as well, hazel eyes raking over your form, lingering around your waist long enough for you to start feeling self conscious, standing up and taking a step closer to him almost involuntarily.

“Is anything wrong? I thought you left them for me to wear.” Since he had given you the leathers along with your old belongings you had assumed you were allowed to wear them, but, at this point, these clothes were more his than yours. Maybe he was scared you'd ruin them and he'd lose his memories of you.

“No, that's not it. They're yours,” he assures quickly, eyes widening slightly before a conflicted expression takes over his face. “The buckles are done wrong,” his observation makes you look down at yourself, there were more straps and buckles than necessary for any piece of garment and you'd taken a bit longer to figure it out than you cared to admit, apparently you should have taken even longer.

Your fingers reach for the straps around your waist, tugging at the leather before he continues, “I can help you with them. They can be hard to put on if you're not used to it.” When you look up from the confusing clothes and your eyes move to meet his, you find him watching your hands hesitantly, his own flexing at his sides. You end up agreeing without even thinking it through, something you almost regret when he walks closer to you and suddenly all you can see and smell is Azriel.

He looks into your eyes before reaching out to the buckles around your waist slowly, giving you a chance to push him away, almost expecting you to. You drop your hands at your sides awkwardly, not knowing what to do with them or yourself when he starts working on your leathers. Expert fingers undo the buckle before pulling on the straps, unexpectedly tightening your armor in the process which pulls a startled gasp out of you. His hands move to grab your waist, surprised by your reaction. Wide hazel eyes meet yours at the sound, a heat spreading within them the longer he holds your gaze, hands frozen around your waist.

All your senses are overwhelmed with him so close, staring down at you like that. The only thing you can think of is the kiss you shared a few nights ago, your entire body begging to repeat the action as he looks down at you with the same passionate look he had worn then. He seems to be reminded of the same, perhaps of similar moments from your previous life, even more scandalous ones surely.

Thankfully, some of your common sense finds you before you could do something stupid like pull him down to you and taste him again, the thought making you look away from him and clear your throat, hoping he breaks from the spell and lets you pretend it didn't happen. This prompts him to keep buckling the leathers, with an urgency he didn't have before, and you look down with him, following his movements even though your mind isn't actually registering any of them as you try to calm your breathing and not think of the way his hands feel around your waist. You'll likely need his help fastening everything tomorrow as well.

“These are meant to cross so the leathers are molded to your body and there are no openings,” he tries to explain as he finishes and moves back, but you can tell he's as affected by your little moment as you were.

You nod at him, “There were a lot of straps, I wasn't sure which ones belonged where. Some of them don't even look like they have a purpose,” you finish as you play with the straps around your wrists, the ones you really couldn't figure out.

“Those are for your gloves,” he explains, a somewhat endeared look crossing his face. “I didn't think you'd need them but you can put them on. Though I'm not sure how they will behave with your powers now.”

“Did I not have these powers before?” You hadn't thought of the possibility but if the spell could erase your memories maybe Norris could have found a way to give or take powers. Just the thought of it brings a chill down your spine.

“You did, but you've gotten a lot stronger,” there was a hint of pride in his words, though the somber meaning hung between you. No matter how hard you practiced and how well they could have trained you here, the results wouldn't be as fast or maybe as clean as the ones resulting from the guild's harsh training. The guild had no problem pushing you past your limits, you either adapted and got stronger or you'd die and be replaced. You suppose you never had to use your powers to torture people before either.

“When this all ends we could spar together,” you sound hesitant even to your own ears, “Maybe I'm even stronger than you by now.” You haven't talked about what will happen after all of this, you can't know for sure what you'll want to do when you recover your memories. You also keenly aware you had just been telling yourself you wouldn't make it easy on him, but ended up seconds away from kissing him and inviting him to spar with you as soon as you saw him.

“I'd like that,” he nods, a reddish tint rushing to his ears. He makes it unbearably hard to even remember why you were upset with him in the first place. It takes everything in you not to lean into his genuineness and forget it ever happened. You bite your lip and give him a small nod of your own, “Are you ready then? We should go.”

“I wanted to talk to you before we left,” his voice takes on a serious tone, regret peeking through every word.

“Maybe this is not the right time. They're probably waiting for us,” you offered, not really sure how to go about having this conversation after what had just happened, even if the curiosity was killing you. It was clear you couldn't keep a level head when it came to Azriel.

“No, I can't…” he cuts himself off, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest as if he’s been pushing it down for a long time. He looks scared somehow, his wings pulling in tighter to his body and his shadows crawling up his shoulders as if comforting, or even encouraging him. You let him find his composure, find the right words to explain the situation. This feels bigger than a silly argument when adrenaline was pumping through both your veins and that gnawing feeling in your chest comes back, getting stronger with every breath, making you think this might be something he's carried on from the time you were still married.

Azriel opens his eyes after a few moments, the emotions swirling in them enough to make you breathless, and reaches his hand out to yours, waiting for you to accept it and then squeezing it tight as if he needs the reminder that you're real.

“I need you to know I wasn't trying to keep any secrets from you or order you around as you said,” he starts lowly, shiny hazel eyes alternating between watching your hands clasped together and staring deep into your eyes, “We've had this conversation many times before. I know you don't remember but I need you to know I never meant to make you think I want to have any sort of power over you.” He brings your hand up to his chest then, spreading your palm right over his beating heart as he continues, eyes never straying from yours, “I know you can handle yourself, and I know you want to be there when Norris tells you everything. I wasn't trying to keep you away from the dungeon because I didn't think you could handle it.”

“Then why?” Your voice is but a whisper, not wanting to disturb the vulnerable moment.

“I never let you see me down there before, know the monster I have to become. You tried, many times, but I never allowed it. I've always been too afraid of what your reaction would be,” he presses his hand down on yours a little harder as his heart beat picks up, “It would kill me if you were ever scared of me, if you couldn't love me anymore after learning who I am. I was so scared of losing you. Scared that you would ever look at me with fear in your eyes instead of love.”

You let your gaze fall to the way he presses his and your hand to his chest, letting his heartbeat lead yours. It takes a moment for you to process his admission. From what he told you before you thought you had been open with each other throughout your marriage, but it seems there were parts of him he kept hidden even from you, especially from you.

Moments like these always leave you in a weird position. You can't speak for the old version of you, as much as you want to believe that you wouldn't leave him, would never feel scared of him, when your love for him transcended your memories as if it was written down into your bones, the truth is you don't remember her at all. Maybe she would have been scared, maybe his worries hadn't been completely unwarranted then. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

You turn your hand around, your palm no longer pressed against his chest in favor of holding onto his hand, your other hand joining in as you massage the rough skin and let them fall between you two, needing something familiar to ground yourself while you think of what to say. You twist his wedding ring around his finger once, closing your eyes at the tremble that runs through him at the motion, the way even his wings droop to the floor. The fact that he lets you touch him like this makes things so much harder sometimes.

“I've seen a lot of monsters. You're not one of them, Azriel. Far from it,” you start carefully, “and… I'm not sure how I was like before, if seeing you down there would have really been too much for me to handle but if I truly loved you like I think I did, then I know it wouldn't have mattered. There's nothing about you I see as unlovable.”

“Loved,” a broken mumble between you, not a question. This makes you look up at him. You want to deny it, tell him you still love him, but you can't make sense of the feelings inside you, can't say for sure what will happen to them when you regain your memories. Most of all, you don't want to hurt him, give him hope when he already lost so much, when you already hurt him so much.

You drop his hand, taking a small step back. “I'm not the same person you used to know, and recovering my memories might not bring her back either. Most of what's left is just my body.”

“It doesn't matter,” he says so matter-of-factly it almost makes you want to believe him.

“Azriel-”

“No,” he brings both of his hands to hold onto your face gently, giving you no option but to look into his eyes, “I love you. That didn't change when you died or over the century that followed, when I didn't think I would ever see you again. It didn't change when I saw you in the townhouse or even when you stabbed me. And it won't change whether you get your memories back or not, if you choose to stay or not.”

“I don't love you,” the words stumble out desperately, tears gathering in your eyes, “I don't even remember you, Azriel.”

“That doesn't change it either,” he smiles, thumb caressing your cheek softly. You know he means it then, know there's no way to change his mind even if for his own good. You can only pray to the Mother that your memories don't give you any unpleasant surprises. You're trying so hard to keep his heart safe, why must he keep offering to rip it out of his chest for you?

His expression changes abruptly as you're lost in thought and soon after you feel a presence in your mind before Rhysand's voice comes through. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Azriel's hands drop from your face then, a scowl overcoming his features. You can only imagine the words he's throwing at his brother in his mind, but Rhysand's voice returns, noticeably more amused, Our break is over. It's time to meet them back at the dungeon. I take it you'll fly our captive back? The answering growl that comes from the shadowsinger actually makes you hide a chuckle behind your hand. His gaze softening once again when he notices the gesture.

Despite the timing and the way he insisted on addressing you as “captive” to rile Azriel up, you could actually thank Rhysand for breaking you away from the moment. He's right, you've rested more than enough and it's now time to go back and finish what you started. You only have the luxury of dealing with your marriage after Norris is gone and you could actually remember your husband.

The flight to the dungeon is a lot easier this time as your prior annoyance was replaced with strangely welcomed awkwardness and a tinge of bashfulness. As much as you tried to deny it, you can't pretend Azriel's admission hadn't made your heart want to leap out of your chest. You don't think anyone could have remained impartial to such a confession, especially coming from a male like Azriel, but as soon as you step into the dungeon, you feel yourself morph back into the cold assassin. You could even feel Azriel's mask fall over his face as well, ready to resume what you'd started before.

This same routine is repeated for a few days, slowly but surely wearing the formidable assassin down. It wouldn't be long until Rhysand or Feyre could read through his mind completely even if he didn't willingly tell you anything. This sentiment was felt among all of you, it's like you could all taste how close he was to breaking.

You came back from one of your mandatory breaks to see Cassian leaning by the cell door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at your prisoner as Amren stood in the middle of the cell covered in blood, a wicked grin on her face as Norris looked the most unsettled you'd ever seen him. She was told to hold back in the first days but since Norris insists on resisting, Rhysand had allowed her to toy with him. You truly hope you never cross her, just the thought of the things she could do makes every hair on your body stand.

Everyone stays in the room this time, knowing it's only a matter of time. Azriel takes over once more, every slash of his knife meant to give Norris unimaginable pain, completely focused on making the short remaining of his life as miserable as he can.

The difference between the male who had confessed his undying love to you, held your hand as if you were the most precious thing in this world, and the one expertly carving out your former handler's body was almost unbelievable. Azriel's face showed nothing but anger, and even then you knew it wasn't even a quarter of the seething fury burning inside of him. This wasn't your doting husband, this was the Spymaster.

You feel Rhysand's dramatic show of power before you see him walk into the cell, hands in pockets as if he was walking into his kitchen instead of a seedy dungeon reeking of blood and sweat. He passes by you and joins Azriel in tormenting Norris, letting sharp black talons run across the mental walls he's been so desperate to maintain. The smirk on his mate's face, who leans against the table calmly by your side, tells you they might even be teaming up on him.

Fatigue was starting to eat away at everyone the longer you spent inside the windowless cell, but, as Norris smirks lessened and his bared teeth stopped being enough to hide the obvious grunts of pain, his skin paling considerably as his blood pooled at his feet, it was clear that you were on the right track, only needed to keep pushing.

Your handler had started answering more questions too, if only to keep you distracted and away from any blades long enough. It's hard to believe that the male you've been frightened of for a century is the same one chained in front of you. If it weren't for the stubbornness and the pride he's managed to keep somehow, you wouldn't have believed it at all.

“This whole mission was a gamble. We couldn't know for sure if they'd written you off their wards even if they thought you were dead. When you walked in so easily I thought it would be a piece of cake from there. Seems I was wrong.” You had guessed as much. At the time, being sent to an unknown place on such short notice seemed strange and sloppy for how usually crafted the guild's plans were, but knowing what you do now, it makes sense. Not only were you written into the wards as he said, but if it hadn't been for the strange nostalgic feelings inside you, Azriel would have let you escape, you would have even killed him to do so.

“The spell should have sealed your memories and feelings tight,” Norris continues as if sensing your thoughts, “I'm not sure what is trying so hard to claw its way out from behind those walls.” He tilts his head to the side and pauses as if he found the answer and that self-assured smirk reappears on his lips. The sight makes your skin crawl, your powers reacting with you and sending an icy chill into the room. Temperature dropping as his smirk only widens even more and Azriel looks at you with a worried expression before catching himself. “Maybe I just messed up the spell,” he dismisses.

“What do you mean?”

“It is a tricky spell,” he shrugs nonchalantly, knowing that's not what you asked. Azriel moves before you, Truth Teller slashing across his skin for the millionth time, but Norris seems intent on keeping at least this last piece of information to himself. There's more to this, you know there is, but the interrogation moves on to matters of the guild. Rhysand is still worried that they will come for you now that you've deserted, and that they will bring harm to his beloved court.

Within the next few hours, Norris' healing stops being able to keep up with his injuries, even his voice losing strength. It seems like he was focusing the remaining of his energy on keeping his mental walls safe, but it's not long until you see Rhysand's smirk grow, a satisfied wicked thing on his face.

You watch as Norris' head goes limp, unfocused eyes dropping to the ground as the High Lord searches through his mind, probably making it as unpleasant as he possibly can. Your heart starts beating faster in your chest, anxiety building up at the thought that this could have all been for nothing, that Norris might not have the answer after all. You feel a hand on your shoulder but don't even have the mind to look back and check who is trying to comfort you.

When he finally steps back, he simply gives you a nod and a breath of relief escapes you as you stare back into Norris' eyes. You watch Azriel and Rhysand share a look in the corner of your eye, never daring to look away from Norris' defeated face. Within moments everyone starts clearing out of the cell in silence, leaving you and your shadowsinger standing over the prisoner.

It's only when Azriel's hand reaches for yours, tugging on it to get your attention that you look away. His eyes don't give away much and he doesn't say the words, but as he places Truth Teller in the palm of your hand, you know exactly what he means. He nods at you once and drops your hand, taking a step back and giving you space.

You look down at the dagger in your hands, the same one you had held to wound the male who now handed it to you, the one you'll now use to set yourself free. Describing the feeling running through your body is impossible, you always thought you'd die in the guild, as an assassin. Never even dared to think you could be more, never thought it would be possible to get out alive and find a life for yourself. You thought you'd be scared at the prospect but you can only feel excitement and relief.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you walk to Norris and pull on his hair to lift his face to yours, so he can see all the hate and anger in your gaze before you stab the knife through his right eye slowly, making sure to get it through his brain, deep enough that no amount of healing or any trick he might have had up his sleeve would be able to save him, and twisting it around. You don't move for a few moments, listening for his heartbeat and paying attention to the blood seeping out of the wound. It's only when you're sure he's dead, that his heart is completely quiet and enough blood has poured out, that you pull the knife out with a squelching sound, flicking it down to get rid of most of the blood and any pieces of flesh stuck to it.

You hesitate for a moment before turning back, meeting Azriel's eyes. As much as you'd told him there was no need for him to worry of your opinion of him changing after witnessing what he did to Norris, of ever being afraid of him, you had hypocritically been scared of letting him see you like this, of seeing the cold blooded killer you had become, so far detached from the wife in his memories.

All your worries are proven baseless however. The only thing you can distinguish in his eyes is relief, at having the answer to getting your memories back and having the person responsible for your pain killed. You can't help the smile growing on your face, not caring for how it must look against the blood covering most of your body, and wrap your arms around Azriel's neck, pulling him down into a hug as a sigh of relief escapes you, tears rising to your eyes and flowing down your cheeks. His arms come around you immediately, tightening his grip on you and burying his face in your neck, tears of his own wetting your skin.

You're finally free.

taglist: @thisblogisaboutabook @chessebookgirl @going-through-shit @starcrossedsan @macimads @janebirkln @dr4g0ngirl @harrystyles2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @queensl1234 @lisanna2000 @starryhiraeth @shadowsaz @sakurafrost3-blog @evergreenlark @sisterjuliennes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @historygeekqueen @writingcroissant @abysshaven @pablopascal @that-girl-reading @naturakaashi @tenshis-cake @sharknutz @isa1b2h3 @thehighlordishere @tarathia @sfhsgrad-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @starsandnightmares @cuethedepession @emryb @mybestfriendmademe @fxckmiup @adharanotfound @b0xerdancer @ervotica @aria-chikage @serendipityx150 @fanboyluvr @rogersbarnesxx @that-one-little-soybean @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @saltedcoffeescotch @astarlitsoul @just-a-social-casualty-1 @sundayysunshine

[melody-busez]

I hate how there is so many theories about what Yellow actually is cause in my mind there is only one that makes sense... like let's get over them

•Yellow is the ACTUAL King in Yellow

this one just baffles me and I think it sorta got confirmed by Harlan Gurthie?? though I can't find where. let's start with the fact that having Yellow be inherently different or in any way "worse" than John completely ruins his character and storyline, throwing the question of what John would have become had things gone slightly differently out of the window. but setting that aside, there is NO way Yellow is the same kiy we've seen in s2. I refuse to believe it. plus, I know that trusting Kayne's word is dumb but he's very rarely outright lied and would have had no reason to do it in that situation, he specifically said that he was going to bring back John without his memories, "a lost and confused PIECE of the King in Yellow", and I don't see why he would have lied especially cause no one seemed to bring it up. ALSO Yellow remembers the Dark World while the King never went there to our knowledge

0% probability. I hate this theory

•Yellow is what's left of the King in Yellow, like a Kiy minus John

this one is literally the same as the previous one but I've seen many people phrase it like this. still, it would imply either that a) John is actually half of the King, which doesn't make sense cause it was always said/implied that John is a rather small piece of him. I always imagine him like 1/5 of the King? (yes I am at the point of unemployment and malevolent hyperfixation to make kiy fractions. don't mention it) or b) that Yellow is a much bigger piece of the King than John, which again would kinda ruin his whole storyline.

again, 0% cause it's basically the same theory

•Yellow is another piece of the King in Yellow, equal in size.

ok this one kinda makes sense, my only problem with this is that we've seen how far the King has gone to be whole again and I just can't imagine him feeling Kayne literally scoop another part of himself (straight after he kicked out the PREVIOUS part of himself that he raised hell to get back) and do nothing about it. surely we would have heard something from him in s3 and 4 if he actually knew someone ripped him apart and took something from him AGAIN. it's also possible that the King knew just how much more powerful Kayne is and didn't do anything for that reason? still, meh

30% probability simply because it's hilarious to think that the King just keeps losing bits and pieces of himself around and is currently furious about it.

now my favourite and the only one that makes sense in my mind

•Yellow is John, the same exact fragment, with zero memory of his time with Arthur.

this is exactly what Kayne promised Arthur and again, why lie? his deals are in bad faith and always hide something, but he never outright lied. also, it would imply that the actual King in Yellow, still in the Dreamlands, might not even know that there's another fragment of him just walking around on earth, AND it's just so much more interesting to think about how Yellow turned out if you see him as another version of John. it's the whole nature vs nurture argument, John met Arthur while he was relatively doing good and had a whole month in the hospital being cared for. despite everything, John had time and support, the two things Yellow never ever had. Yellow met Arthur at his absolute lowest, who switched on him the second he didn't act like John, and like two days later he was stuck with Larson (i would get homicidal too). John picked up his name and a vague notion of who he wanted to be before he even found out he was the King, Yellow was immediately offered two identities: one that aligned with what he was feeling, and one that didn't, and he clang to the one that made sense.

[raayllum]

Will probably chuck something like this into a bigger speculative meta at one point about Xadia's in-universe history, but from a "why would the story Choose to do it like this, as opposed from any other lens?" I want to reexamine the Mage Wars conflict. Specifically, in this case, that the Mage Wars were the result of (predominantly dark) mages being leaders/kings.

On the one hand, at first glance, it makes a lot of sense. We routinely see most of the series' mages turn to magic, dark or otherwise, as a result of desperation and/or ambition, or both in an attempt to consolidate power.

KPP'AR: You made the same choice you've always made. The one that gives you power. (5x02)

VIREN: I am the High Mage of Katolis. I have power, purpose, and I intend to use them both. (6x06)

Even Claudia, despite being more driven by her personal loyalties to her family over political ambition like her father ultimately was, seeks the power to fix things. To un-paralyze her brother; to bring her father back from the dead (twice). To carry out Aaravos' revenge not to bring down the Cosmic Order for 'humanity's greater good,' but to avenge his wrongly executed daughter.

Because magic, at its core in TDP, is about having knowledge and power.

Or is it? Put a pin in that, for a second.

The main thing I'm meandering my way to is that the mage warlords... didn't have to be warlords. Like, we could've had mage wars where mages were the top or chosen generals, sworn to their respective royal families and fighting to the end. It would've amped up the assassin-dark mage parallels as servants or pawns/perpetrators of the cycle, been an even darker version of Harrow and Viren's fragmented bond of king and high mage, or even what Aanya seems to have going on with hers, etc.

But instead, the mages responsible for the mage wars were indeed kings and rulers, people who sought more political power void of any other checks and balances or relationships. They were in charge; they were not servants at all (at least, not to anyone but unknowingly Aaravos).

Which makes sense: it's easier to manipulate people and get more of it with the more political power they have, especially because the Mage Wars possessed an unstable and rapidly changing political structure ("When one mage rose to power, another was quick to dethrone them") built on competition and bloodthirstiness.

I've speculated in previous metas that Aaravos wanted the remaining warlords to go and wage war on Xadia pre-his imprisonment. If that's true, then Viren being a mage turned warlord (king) is more than repeating history... and we see Karim as another mage grappling for the throne, even if he's less directly manipulated by Aaravos.

So the show paints a pretty clear message through arc 1 Viren, Karim, and Kpp'Ar: mages who chase political power are more likely to go out of control, and mages who rescind political power are more likely to... end up being Better and with happier endings, at least in theory.

In my mind, the main reason to set the mage warlords up in "magic as a tool for political power" is to demonstrate the dangers of Viren and Karim's ways of thinking, as well as for arc 3 with Aanya's mages (brother?) potentially seeking her throne and war with Xadia.

The good news: while Callum is still part of the occupational high mage line of Kpp'Ar to Viren to him, and has acquired the literal embodiment of it through the Staff of Ziard now being his (more on that here), Callum has never wanted political power in his life!

Knowledge and power seeking are still things he has to contend with, the way any mage would, but since Callum is far more oriented around love than ego or anything else... while other mages have repeated the history of waging war at Aaravos' behest, and others likely will in arc 3, it is less certain that Callum will be one of them.

He's a mage, but not a warlord; he has no reason or desire to be. Because magic in TDP is about knowledge and power, yes, but it is also about Love, particularly for him.

Rayla's note in Callum's spellbook: That's not cheesy at all Callum. Love is magic!

A simplification, perhaps, given that Claudia is also driven by love (as Terry spells out in 7x05, even if it's becoming warped as part of revenge) and because Callum still has ambition... but unlike the bulk of the show's other high mages or mages turn warlords, he is not ultimately More Ambitious than he is Loving, and that, I think, is what's gonna Save him.

[oh-yeah-i-exist]

Aeterna Amantes

"Lovers, forever."

Redeemed Dark Urge and Unascended Astarion can still be badass when they want to be 😌 why let all the cool gear they looted go to waste??

*SPOILERS WARNING*

This is very much a work in-progress BUT I have NOT been able to get Durge Tav x Astarion out of my mind. I have done multiple playthroughs as the Dark Urge (my Tav's name is Eiji/Evie) because I just find the storyline so compelling and there are many little details in the game for me to explore. Some folks are theorizing that if Durge chooses to defy Bhaal and gets reborn by Withers, they receive a fragment of Withers' divine powers. Plus, Withers said it himself that "Death shall not claim thee whilst I persist" or something along those lines, which could possibly mean Durge is now immortal.

Some other tidbits that support that theory include:

In the Murder Tribunal, if my Tav chooses to become one of Bhaal's Unholy Assassins, she can talk to the ghosts of Bhaal's fallen servants. One of them, Illasera, tells her that Bhaal created her from "a place beyond mortality." So it is quite possible that Durge was already immortal/gifted with extreme longevity to begin with.

In the epilogue, when Durge talks to Astarion, he will eventually end the convo by telling them to go spend time with the other companions because he and Durge have forever together anyways.

I have already constructed several elaborate headcanons about how Durge will spend the rest of eternity with (unascended) Astarion. They both deserve peace after redeeming themselves, and they would make such a cool couple of anti-heroes. Protectors of the Underdark, leaders of an army of vampire spawn. They provide safe passage for the lost and the down-trodden, especially those who seek second chances, and will not hesitate to throw hands with hero-wannabes who think they can make a name for themselves by slaying "the Vampire Lord" or "the Fallen Bhaalspawn."

[runabout-river]

Saw this graphic about wild JJK theories on Twitter and thought I should make a list about these :D

Sukuna ate his twin

possible, maybe even likely, though what exactly does "eat" imply here? We know that Sukuna was a cannibal but my take on "eat" is actually about Sukuna being a conjoined twin with a brother that's basically dead hanging off on him. His extra arms and belly mouth would come from that twin and the "eating" would be more metaphorical

Tengen is Kenjaku's Wife

that's definitely not supported by any canon interaction. Tengen and Kenjaku were friends and there is the possibility that Kenjaku was originally a woman

Gojo will sacrifice his Six Eyes

possible but I don't think that that's likely as of now. 1 story reason for that is how the 6-Eyes are still not fully explained eg with the connection that Tengen and the Star Plasma Vessel supposedly have with it

Yuji is Sukuna's finger

I mean yes, he is a finger now just not with a fragment of Sukuna's soul actively living inside of him. Yuji wasn't born as a finger of Sukuna, my theory on him is that Yuji was "formed/created" after Toji's image and Heavenly Restriction to suppress Sukuna

Kenjaku was driving the car that killed Rika

now this theory is so random that it only makes sense when it's a fanfic prompt. 1) Rika was a normal girl and from everything we know Yuta looked like one as well, what interest would Kenjaku have with them. 2) Kenjaku didn't exist when JJK 0 was written. 3) Rika's and Yuta's story is over.

Yuji is is an incarnation of a Heian era sorcerer

now this sounds plausible especially with Sukuna's cryptic line "he came from that time". But Yuji was definitely a baby who was most likely born like other babies. This could still mean though that Kenjaku fed or otherwise infused baby Yuji with the cursed object of an old sorcerer. If Kenjaku successfully recreated Toji's HR, then that sorcerer would've been suppressed immediately

Kenjaku's original plan was for Megumi to swallow the first finger

unlikely. I'm 100% sure that Kenjaku would've force-fed Yuji with the first finger at some point if chapter 1 hadn't happened. It's more likely that Kenjaku had Megumi as his future vessel/corpse in mind

Yuji was actually cursed by his grandfather

unlikely. Grandpa seemed done wth his life at the end and his advice to Yuji was more filled with regret than harmful wishes to his grandson. That would also throw the core of the story away in an unsatisfying and bad twist

[lsunstreakerl]

Heyo!

Been an absolute while since I've been on here but I just read your latest scrapbook max and I need to know how gp reacted to seeing max for the first time cuz I'm imagining an adoption on sight lol

-the ever elusive archi anon

archi anon hello!! I hope school has been going well :)

I kind of imply it with that line about GP, but he's a professor who specializes in fog research, especially with adolescents, which is why he's with the academy.

he teaches fog theory to the seniors, but other than that most students don't see him, and even then his class is an elective lol. most consider it very boring.

that's mostly just to say that the whole reason daniel and jev don't write max off as a lost cause- even if they think he is- is because he's young, and he's clearly had prolonged fog exposure, and there's an academic value to be had there. sure, the academy won't send one of their own students down like that, but if they find someone already down there...

if not for that factor, daniel and jev would've just executed him. or tried to, anyways. it's considered a more humane end for fog victims who have clearly lost their mind but are still alive.

but sunny, max clearly hasn't lost his mind, he's reasonable in the other ficlets

he's a unique critter in ways I have not yet addressed.

that initial meeting where GP has gotten a message along the lines of "pulled a kid out of the fog who's been down there for a while, want to look?" (yes, the answer is always yes) is actually GP going to meet them, expecting to meet a kid who's completely lost it in the fog. instead, he starts to realize what daniel and jev didn't- that max is much more aware and present than they're giving him credit for, and that he's not fragmented in the way a typical fog victim is.

max is brought to the academy under those conditions, not technically as a student but more as GP's intern? they can't be like "professor lambiase is getting research from him" because that just sounds bad, but max isn't quite a student either, at least not initially.

so for maybe a day or two GP is viewing him strictly in an academic capacity, until he starts to actually see max, and then he's like "oh, I have a son now. if anyone hurts him I'm killing them."

[altocat]

thank you for the answer. i am looking for someone who would be willing to write a quick scene of sephiroth visiting angeal’s grave. i have agreed with the theory that angeal was cremated but i still think he had a grave marked somewhere because the young soldiers all loved him. i keep seeing a picture of snowfall and sephiroth seeing the grave for the first time. you don’t have to but i know sad writings are your forte. just a thought 👉👈

I got you! Sorry for the wait! I have put this on AO3 as well. I hope you enjoy!

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

Modeoheim was cold. Gray trees in the mid-afternoon, pale sunlight dancing against windswept brick and brush. Black earth at his feet. Abandoned buildings that rusted forlornly in the far distance, forsaken to the elements, slowly rotting where they stood. A crow called in the far distance, the noise echoing off the frigid hills and peaks.

Sephiroth's breath was steaming, gusty plumes that clouded the thick winter air. He lifted his head to the sky, speculative emerald eyes studying the rolling clouds, tracing the hazy patterns of movement. Foreign gray gods above him. Oppressive. Looming. A storm would be rolling in soon. He could feel it on the wind, taste it on the breeze.

It didn't matter.

Nothing really mattered anymore.

The marker was exactly where Zack had mentioned, a modest slant of rock that overlooked the hillside. Sephiroth watched the scattered collection of open wilderness below, his fists clenched, teeth gritted. He'd always hated this landscape. Barren land. Shadowland. Desolate and lonely. Terribly austere.

An equally terrible place to die.

"You'd be so proud of him."

Low murmur against the wind, alien in his own throat. He brushed the thick tangle of silver hair from his eyes, chin lifted, breath smoking the air.

"Zack. He's changed since you left."

The clouds rumbled faintly somewhere beyond the mountains. Sephiroth wet his lips.

"He's grown tremendously as a First. We do excellent work together. I truly could not ask for a more capable colleague. He'll be the very best of us someday. SOLDIER's finest."

Silence. Cold as bone. Hollow. Sephiroth hadn't expected anything, really. He didn't remember the last time he ever had. Expectation was a loose luxury he'd long since discarded. The others were different, of course. Genesis had always adhered to the principle of reckless ambition, pushing himself, charging blindly ahead through every obstacle, menacing the competition with ruthless abandon. Glenn had viewed the world with more innocent eyes, convinced of some higher morality beneath the ugliness. Some grand duty of atonement, braving the harsh realities of the world with a sense of hope, resolution.

But they were gone now. Genesis was sick. And Glenn...well, Glenn couldn't help him anymore. Not at all.

Sephiroth closed his eyes, felt the shape of the wind. It rattled against the heavy weight of his armor, the great pauldrons slumping, calloused hands opening and closing again.

He stroked the marker. He withered. He wondered.

"You were different."

Zack had clipped the words together in the stone, etched the scraggly shape of a name through the craggy surface. Sephiroth could feel it against his palm.

"You were different from them. You were content where you were."

Black feathers at his feet.

"You knew yourself. You knew what you wanted. You worked for it on your own terms. On your own time. I respected that."

The crow called again. Louder.

"You...you always knew what you were doing. You understood the world. You understood people. You were always there, always present in the moment. That's what I always admired about you."

Louder. He shut his eyes and went away. It always made things easier. Especially now. There were better places. Better eras. Fragments. Better views and footfalls.

"I don't understand why this happened."

Any place but here. He could go. He could let his mind vanish. He could fall away.

Or apart.

"I don't understand..."

He was going, yes. Going away. Far away. Far back. Tumbling down. He was somewhere else now. And there was solace. Recollection. Warm hands. Foggy lamplight. The comforting press of bodies in a crowded booth, the smell of cheap beer and smoke. Sephiroth had met those dark blue Mako eyes once, met the golden moment between laughter and shy awareness. A timid duck of the head. Finger against his cheek, brushing away the faint wisp of a stray eyelash, murmur mild, yet perplexingly resolute.

And ghosts.

Pearly ghosts that shimmered like tears.

"Life's too short for regrets, Seph."

And a heaviness in his chest. A heaviness that clung. A heaviness that claimed him. A heaviness that brought him back just as quickly. Sephiroth's fingers rooted, scraped the rock. He bit his lip, fought the urge to strike, to break away.

"I don't understand."

His nails were bleeding. He didn't notice.

"I didn't want...this, Angeal. You know I didn't."

The wind rose and fell, collecting on the mountaintop, stirring through the trees.

"Don't you see...I have nothing but regrets."

Birdsong in the fields, small black specks that darted and circled through the brush, the shadowed ridges.

"What am I supposed to do now? Angeal. Tell me. What am I supposed to do?"

Hojo would have mocked him, subjected him to a litany of petty insults for his weakness. Strong soldiers did not break. Strong soldiers did not fall to their knees in the ice, cradle the cold stone with their bare hands. Sephiroth felt the angry rush of vertigo hitting him, his head spinning, the unpleasant lurch of his stomach rising as he clenched his teeth and counted. There was acid in his throat, the words threatening to spill, blame and hurt and broken admission. And all around him, the hills and mountains seemed to tilt and sway; arching black claws that scraped the clouds. He watched them spiraling all around them, watched the jagged, looming lines converging, splitting the sky. Could they cut the world? Could they tear into that listless gray void, rip apart the sun and stars and the cramping confines of space and time? Could they revive the dead? Could they even hear him?

Sephiroth didn't want to guess. The noise that arose was not entirely human. He wasn't even sure if it was completely his own. He did not initially register the first speck of white that flecked against his cheek, the tiny sprinkling shower making its gradual descent, painting the sterile earth like ash. Pale dots that drifted across the stone, working through the grooves, the grainy, half-scrawled markings that composed the dead man's crude, weather-worn epitaph.

It was snowing.

Sephiroth coughed. He wiped his mouth. He lifted his head back to the sky, icy flakes dusting the thick black slant of his eyelashes. He watched the spectacle, counted every steady, starlit trail, caught them on his palm, his fingertips. They coated his shoulders, his hair, his cheeks. Bitter water on his tongue. Bitter words farther beneath.

"Angeal."

It felt like rain.

"Angeal."

It wasn't.

"Angeal, are you crying?"

And that was somehow worse.

[starg0ld]

Fragmenta Vitae (Prologue)

art creds: drosaxx on twt

❝ After albedo inevitably loses control, he pays the highest price by killing the person dearest to him. ❞

Albedo x Lumine (new note: originally meant to be an Albedo x reader, I've decided to turn this fic into an Albedo x Lumine. sorry for the short notice but as I was working on the next chapters I thought it fitted better this way. honestly I believe that a Lumine centered narrative can also be somehow neutral for self immersion. I'm trying to apply changes but tumblr doesn't work as I'd wish, tough I do not want to post it again. so, I'm sorry if the writing feels strange somewhere. if you want to check the other, better, versions, look at my AO3 and Fanfiction.Net account (also @/starg0ld).!! ))

Cw: death, murder, blood, slight gore, angst

words count: 2438

n/a: I had a lot of fun writing this first chapter!!! Which, more than a first chapter, is actually a sort of introduction to the story. The plot is based on the lore of one of my Genshin OCs, but I adapted it to make it more accessible for everyone. It's inspired by an old roleplay and one of my favorite movies, Poor Things (which I warmly recommend). Also, to me, Albedo's corruption happens just like in this fancomic. I highly encourage you all to read it because it explains exactly what happens to corrupted Albedo in my fic, and most especially because it's just so good and well-written to not be read.

"The universe, the sable essence of the starry void."

"Earth, the accumulative memory of time and being."

Many times throughout his long life, Albedo had imagined the moment when the precarious control he held over himself would shatter. He wondered what it would feel like, whether anyone would be able to stop him before he brought ruin upon everything, even Mondstadt, the city he had come to grow fond of. Each time he tried to envision that terrible eventuality, the scenario would shift, always different, yet eerily similar. There were unknowns, variables beyond even his rapid and analytical mind. No matter how far his thoughts could reach, there were things that even a brilliant alchemist like him could not predict.

"Soil, the origin of alchemy, the basis of all life."

Rhinedottir, his creator, also known as the infamous alchemist Gold, had always been forthright about his nature. She had never sought to conceal the potential faults in his very being, the price of crafting the perfect human, a prototype of divinity itself, a being who, in theory, could make the heavens tremble with his arcane essence. Yet Albedo had always dismissed such concerns, considering them distant and improbable, a possibility that almost didn't even concern him. That was until he had tasted the forbidden thrill of Khemia.

"The universe is the dark essence of the true starry sky, and the earth is the accumulated memories of time and lives. The chalk: that is you. The earth is where alchemy gets its name, and is the basis of all life. And this..." She demonstrated her technique before him as a huge life form burst from its culture tank in a shower of shattered fragments.

"...This is new birth."

Only then Albedo realized how fragile his understanding of the world truly was. There were far fewer certainties than he had once believed, but one truth remained absolute: meddling with the natural order always came at a cost.

"...Chalk, the substance from which primal life is molded."

The scene of him losing control had played out exactly as he had expected in his most tormented nights. It had happened countless times before, in the depths of his mind, each instance no less harrowing than the last. And yet, this time, something was different. This time, the nightmare had taken a turn he never dared to foreseen.

After meeting his dearest friend, Lumine, Albedo began to hope. Perhaps this mysterious girl from another world could be the key, a catalyst capable of neutralizing his transgression before catastrophe struck. Not that he didn’t trust his fellow knights and colleagues, but sadly, not even all the strength of their best warriors could have been enough. Albedo had no desire for his friends in Mondstadt to see him descend into something unrecognizable, least of all Klee, the child he had come to see as a sister. When he had met her, she gave him something even more precious than certainty, beside stealing his heart. With her, Albedo found a rare stability, a feeling he had never known before. Her smile and laughter lightened the weight of his turmoil, leading him to gravitate towards her. She was enigmatic, mysterious, a weaver of arcane arts, yet her charisma and charm had captured his mind. Albedo learned so much from her, from her creativity to the knowledge that sometimes seemed to test the limits of his own. Slowly, his world had softened, and for the first time, he dared to believe that perhaps, things did not have to end in disaster. As far as possible for a being like him, he could even live a normal life.

But fate had never been this kind.

For all the terrible outcomes the alchemist had envisioned, he never imagined this. Never had he thought that, out of all the people in Teyvat, it would be Lumine standing before him, facing him, fighting for him and against him, willing to sacrifice everything to save Mondstadt or him.

His memories were already fractured, blurred at the edges, but he could still recall the moment with painful clarity: the cold bite of a blade piercing his flesh, the sharp jolt of pain that, to him, had almost felt like a relief. Yet, a part of him that was not fully sentient kept finding new ways to attack her, to inflict the same amount of pain, if not worse, death. Both had begun to bleed, crimson on the carpet of white snow that covered the icy ground of Dragonspine.

And yet, her tears, warm and relentless, had rained down upon her cheeks, reddened by frost and fatigue. Through the haze of his faltering consciousness, he could heard her voice, distant yet desperate. Words he couldn’t fully grasp, but their meaning was unmistakable. Trying to bring the man she fell in love with back.

She had begged him to stay.

Begged him not to leave.

Begged him to think of Klee, of the little girl who would never understand why her brother was suddenly gone.

And the blood continued to flow copiously, carrying itself with the aftermath of the battle, the two exhausted and far too wounded.

"No matter how far apart we are, my soul and yours will always be intertwined." she said once, looking at the same sky that she dedicated to him every time.

Albedo hadn’t fully grasped the extent of the injury he had inflicted on Lumine. They had been locked in battle for quite a while, and the young witch’s energy was gradually fading. Blood surrounded them; she had lost a significant amount, and soon her blurry vision began to getting concerning. Despite her condition, she had still managed to stab Albedo in the chest.

Now, they were both laying together in the vast, icy wasteland that enveloped them. Their breaths were heavy and faint, both exhausted. However, Albedo eventually sensed that he was starting to come back to his former self, even though he felt weak and the pain was so intense it felt almost hollow. He could barely hear whispers, his beloved’s fingers tightening around his tense body. He began to feel a strange sensation crossing through his fibers like a stream, as if a hand was lifting him from the weight of his own flesh. A realization struck him as if another blade had been thrust into his heart. A bluish halo surrounded his wounds, suddenly lighter than the rest of the snow. He couldn’t believe that she was gathering her last strengths to perform that extreme gesture, a miracle and the greatest of sorceries at the same time.

A life for another life.

An extreme act of love and desperation. Lumine had performed a miracle, bittersweet, imperfect, a desperate attempt to undo what should have never been. For a moment, it had felt unreal, like slipping into one of his many dreams, visions where he had rehearsed, time and time again, the ways in which he might face his worst fears.

Albedo had never imagined, never dared to even consider, that he would awaken from his state of pain and confusion only to find her lifeless in his arms. The shift had been instantaneous, a cruel reversal of fate he could not comprehend. His hands, once steady, now trembled as they held her cold, unmoving form. Disbelief took root in his mind, slow and insidious, creeping through the cracks of his shattered reality.

His breath hitched the moment he saw her. His heart clenched, his stomach twisted, and the world around him blurred.

He dropped to his knees beside her, trembling hands reaching out as if afraid to touch, afraid to confirm what he already knew. But the moment his fingers brushed against her bloodied skin, the dam inside him shattered.

A choked breath left his lips. Carefully, so, so carefully he pulled her lifeless body into his arms, cradling her against his chest. She was limp in his grasp, her head lolling slightly as he adjusted her, pressing her close as if he could somehow shelter her from the cold that had already begun to seep into her skin.

She was gone.

His hand trembled as he brushed her hair back, fingers ghosting over her face in a motion that had once been second nature. Now, it felt hollow. His grip tightened as a sharp gasp escaped him as grief struck like a blade to the chest, raw and unbearable. His breathing turned ragged, erratic, as the reality of what had happened sunk into his bones, coiling around his heart like a vice.

It was his fault.

His arms locked around her, his entire frame shaking as he buried his face into her hair, squeezing his eyes shut as if blocking out the world would make this moment unreal. The tears burned at the edges of his vision, threatening to spill over. He couldn't hold them back.

His voice was shaking, broken and raw. “No… no, no, no…” His tone shook, barely more than a whisper at first, before rising into something raw and desperate. His body trembled violently, his grip tightening around Lumine as if holding on a little harder could somehow tether her to life. He pulled her closer, his hold almost crushing, terrified that if he loosened his embrace even slightly, she would slip away forever. Until a few hours before, her body was full of life, and now she lay cold on the blanket of snow. What a cruel joke, fate! And was he the one who had killed her…? No, Albedo couldn’t even think so. He didn’t want to believe it.

Memories assaulted his mind in rapid succession-fragments of laughter, of quiet moments, of the warmth in her gaze when she looked at him. He had taken all of it for granted. He had been so careless. He should have seen it coming. He should have known.

But he hadn't.

He had been too blind, too caught up in his own thoughts to notice the signs, to save her before it was too late.

His grip trembled, his fingers digging into her bloodstained clothing. His entire body ached, every nerve screaming in protest, but he couldn't let go. He refused to.

She was still warm.

“Why did you do this? Why?” His breath shuddered, his words cracked and broken by the sobs building in his throat. “This wasn’t the plan. This can’t be how it ends. I—I can’t lose you. I can’t…” His usual composure, the mask of control he always wore so effortlessly, shattered in the moment he had her in his arms. The weight of Lumine’s limp body pressed against him, and with it came the crushing realization of what she had done. The responsibility. The guilt. The overwhelming disbelief. It all crashed into him at once, a tidal wave of emotion that left him trembling.

The snow around them had been pristine once, an untouched white expanse stretching across Dragonspine's frozen landscape. Now, it was stained with crimson. Albedo forced himself to look down. The blood pooled beneath them, thick and dark, seeping into the snow like ink on parchment. The sight made his stomach twist violently.

His fault.

His fault.

His fault.

His breath came in harsh, uneven gasps. He felt like he was breaking apart, piece by piece, with no way to put himself back together. And then his gaze drifted back to Lumine’s face. Her expression was soft, but twisted, frozen in time. Pain. She had died in agony. Her mouth was slightly parted, as if she had been trying to say something. Her wide eyes-once so full of life-stared up at him, unseeing, unblinking. A gaping wound marred her stomach, her white clothes drenched in red. Blood had trickled from her lips, from the corners of her eyes, now crystallized into fragile, frozen tracks.

She had suffered. Because of him.

His breath hitched again, and before he could stop himself, a sob tore free from his throat. His hands trembled as they cupped her cheeks, his thumbs brushing away tears that no longer fell.

It was unbearable.

She had saved him. One final act of defiance against fate, one last miracle-her life for his.

And what had he done to deserve it?

Albedo let out a shaky breath, his forehead pressing against hers, his tears mingling with the blood and snow beneath them. She was growing colder. He knew he couldn't stay like this forever. He knew, eventually, he would have to let go

But not yet.

Not yet.

His mind raced, frantically clawing for a way out, some other miracle that could undo what had just happened. But there was nothing. No solution, no second chance. The price had been paid, and Name had been the one to pay it. And he… he was powerless to do anything but watch as her warmth slowly faded.

The weight of it crushed him.

“Please…” His voice cracked, the desperation in it thick enough to suffocate. “Please wake up. Please don’t leave me…”

Tears streamed down his face, unchecked and unrelenting, as he searched for any sign of life. A flicker of breath. A faint heartbeat. Anything. But there was nothing. Deep down, he knew. He knew. And still, he refused to accept it. His alchemical knowledge could no longer solve the irreversible at that moment.

“You can’t be…” His breath came in ragged, uneven gasps. “You were everything to me… please… please come back to me…”

His grip tightened again, his fingers digging into fabric and skin as if sheer force of will could keep Lumine with him. His face, streaked with tears, twisted with pain, grief and desperation bleeding into every word, every breath, every sob that wracked his body.

Albedo did not know how long he knelt there, how long he held her, his tears falling like quiet snowfall onto her still face. He might have stayed there forever, frozen in time, lost in a grief so deep it swallowed everything.

And when help finally arrived, when another voice called out his name, it barely registered.

Because Albedo, the so-called perfect being, the prototype of a god—was broken.

“I can’t lose you…” His voice was hoarse, broken. “I can’t. You’re the one thing in this world I can’t stand to lose… please… come back to me…” His lips parted, but his voice barely made it past them now, nothing more than a whisper. A plea. A confession.

“…I love you.”

And yet, no answer came. No movement. No breath.

Only silence.

[yingxtkm]

Omg I'd LOVE to hear about Sephiroth and Aerith from your au!!!!!! ❤️❤️��️

AFKFHSKDJKS I’m ngl as much as I’d like to talk about my AU, I’m lowkey also embarrassed about it too AHAHA.

True to post AC canon, Aerith is already, well, dead. However, she’s able to manifest projections* of herself in areas where the Lifestream is the strongest aka the church and visit Sephiroth in his dreams. Ofc in this AU she’s also lab siblings with Sephiroth :^) so they both have memories of each other.

After she uses Great Gospel to cure everyone of Geostigma, Jenova was weakened enough/presumed dead?¿ (as dead as a hive mind virus can be) where Aerith was able to fish out and piece together what remained of Sephiroth’s soul.

Sephiroth himself was conscious this whole time and had been locked up in the back of his mind watching his body destroy everything helplessly (I sort of followed the Jenova controls Sephiroth HC for this AU instead of the canon route where he hijacks her will instead) so he’s extremely guilty in that his foolishness and weakness is what caused the deaths of so many people and destruction of the Planet. He’s horrified when he realizes that his revival doesn’t mean he’s coming out with his normal body but rather the one twisted into some sort of sick facsimile of god. Big oopsies on Aerith’s end. Every time he sees a reflection of himself, he has to look away, bile creeping up his throat. He’s disgusted with himself.

*Re: the projections, I know there was that whole theory, or maybe even hint dropped by Nomura I forgor lol, where Aerith and Zack no longer appear in Cloud’s dreams or manifest after the scene in the church at the end of AC as a sign of him moving on from the past/their work being done. This changes in the AU bc Sephiroth’s soul is so fragmented, Aerith replaces pieces of it with her own. She’s ofc helped by Zack who also offers to help patch him up and another certain someone who’s been chilling in the Lifestream that I won’t mention ;)

So Sephiroth is essentially connected and bound to them and capable of allowing them to manifest at the church once more. Gaia has its rules where life and death are not supposed to interact but sometimes Sephiroth is able to feel their emotions when they’re watching over him, especially Zack’s bc he’s impulsive lmao 😭

Also very much post AC revival Seph trope style, he ends up under house arrest after Cloud discovers him, but he’s pretty much resigned the entire time and complies to everything bc the whole point of him being brought back is that he wants to change and repent for what he’s done. Cloud and Tifa are confused and having a massive existential crisis when they realize they’re housing a very docile, socially awkward eldritch horror pseudo god with severe trauma issues that’s surprisingly amicable.

/Slaps Sephiroth, this man can fit so much body horror and trauma in him.

[kerubimcrepin]

ANALYSIS: Joris Jurgen, Mage-Slayer, Bearer of Grougalorasalar's Black Fire.

For quite a while I had wanted to make this post, concentrating my personal pet theory/something I noticed, but as of recently, it has been made especially relevant with to the role Grougalorasalar, as well as the Jurgen-Crepin family, may play in the manga.

This post touches on the following topic: Joris is probably mostly/fully incapable of using magic due to Grougalorasalar's possession, and there may be other consequences too, for his psychology.

"At the time of the Dofus film, we saw [Joris] as a mage-killer. Someone who does not practice magic, nor is attuned to it."

Note: Some parts of this were already proven true (or true-in-the-past-but-now-reconned) by this tweet, but I would like to go more in depth, and talk about why Joris is not practising or attuned to magic.

Black Fire, Stasis, and Dragons:

The magic of the world is based upon the Quadramental Breeze (the elements of Fire, Water, Earth, and Wind), Black Fire (Stasis, energy of destruction), and White Fire (Wakfu, energy of creation).

All of these forces originate from the three dragons of Osamodas: the elemental dragon Spiritia, the white fire dragon Helioboros, and the black fire dragon Ouronigride.

The descendants of Spiritia became the four elemental primordial dragons.

Dofus MMO Book "Dragon Era - Found Fragments III"

Ouronigride had three descendants, of whom only two are extremely relevant to this post: Grougalorasalar (ebony dofus), and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, who refused a physical body, and therefore, remained without one, unlike all the other dragons.

Helioboros had three descendants, two of whom are important to keep in mind: Dardondakal (ivory dofus, his guardians used to be Joris, as well as Leorictus Sheran-Sharm), and Croulakrakoss, a dragon that has a history with Grougalorasalar.

Possession & violence:

"Young Lukruh… You don't know that I'm watching over you… From the shadows!"

Joris is not the first person in the history of the World of Twelve to be possessed by a Black Fire dragon — albeit his possession was less planned, and ended far less tragically for him.

While Grougalorasalar only resorted to possessing a body and mind that would not resist him, in order to save his own life — his sibling, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, had always yearned to possess and overtake, and for that end, he chose a man named Lukruh.

"Go ahead! Set them on fire! Oh yes! Lukruh! Your hatred gave the two of us wings! Keep going, and then nothing will stand in our way!"

He spent a long time slowly weakening his defences to overtake his body and mind (the downside of possessing someone who is not a newborn, and actually has a free will and a mind to overwrite, I suppose), and fed on his anger, at some point even giving him wings.

Feeding on anger to increase control over the body, something isn't unique to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

It is unknown whether possession is something only Black Fire dragons are capable of, but we do know the dire consequences it has for the possessed — because Joris has opinions on this story, and he voices in the Dofus MMO questline for the Ivory dofus.

During the first Crimson Dawn, he took the life of Dardondakal, and some time after, died himself. What really happened is murky (perhaps in part because this is not my lore area of expertise), but we know that Hyrkul ended up as an undead lich, before being abandoned by the dragon.

Joris explains that:

1. Dragons of black fire are not evil, but merely drawn to destruction. While I personally believe him, the fact that he mentions this immediately and unprompted may point to this being an insecurity of his.

2. The He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named kept Hyrkul alive, or turned him into a lich, using black magic. Then, in response to being asked whether it is possible that Hyrkul could have recovered his free will, Joris says the following:

This implies that 1. Joris views the condition of being possessed as one you can't recover from, and 2. that he still does not entirely possess a free will of his own. His mind has forever been tainted by/muddled with Grougalorasalar's, and that is simply not something that can be changed or healed from.

...Perhaps Black Fire stirs his thoughts too. No wonder he would mention this not being an evil thing, then.

(To be honest, one of my own darker thoughts on this topic is that Joris as we know him has been possessed since infancy, so if Grougalorasalar overwrote his brain fully with his own personality without any memories, we'd just never know. Though, considering there wasn't really a personality to overwrite, it's a bit of a chicken-and-egg dilemma. Sorry for becoming a conspiracy theorist for a sec.)

Joris also elaborates further on their relationship in the Ebony dofus questline:

This reveals multiple things:

Joris may be implying that he and Grougalorasalar did not part on good terms.

The alternate explanation for his words here, is that Joris knows what Grougalorasalar feels due to his influence over his psyche — meaning that he also neither forgives nor forgets. While it is a fun possibility that fits in with the rest of the post, I am inclined to believe that the shorter and easier explanation for his words is the one meant by the developers. Occam's razor.

The conflict that led to their separation was based in their world-view and morals — but here Joris says something that is very interesting:

The thing about possession, is that it affects both parties, whether they like it or not.

(Imagine two pieces of clay. Imagine pushing them together, and then tearing them apart. There would still be a bit of colour from the other piece of clay, on both of them, you know? I suppose it works the same way with souls.)

Whatever their relationship used to be, Grougalorasalar no longer respects Joris's opinions. Joris still seems to feel protective of the Ebony Dofus — even if he couldn't fulfil his promise of keeping it safe forever.

Joris the Powerless:

The Black Fire eats away at all magic and life, like rust; and rules the thoughts and impulses of those affected by it, like hunger.

But it's not an evil energy — merely the yin to Wakfu's yang. It destroys without a malicious intent.

Even if we've seen the consequences that an abundance of it has, in season 4 of Wakfu...

*relevant parts of the quotes are marked with a red tint

It is not a secret that Joris was first conceptualized to be a character who had no innate powers of his own — instead drawing them from his magic wand/hand-held tree stump. (Well, the first idea was a warrior with a woman's voice, but Xa disregarded that brief and made up a whole new guy...)

It was the idea they had during the making of Wakfu season 1 — which is why he always held his magic wand back then — and it was the idea they had during the development of the cancelled spin-off game "Joris the Powerless".

It is also why he has seldom been shown with the tree stump afterwards — it has lost its relevance to his character outside of being his preferred weapon.

The reason I bring it up is that, while ideas change — when something is so integral to a character that you almost name a game after it, even multiple rewrites may not get rid of an idea entirely.

If black magic is a hunger that corrodes other magic, then wouldn't it make sense, if Joris could not use magic to begin with?

His situation is far different from Julith, who used black magic to try and resurrect Jahash. Black Fire is a part of Joris the same way it is a part of Black Fire Dragons, — it's not just a tool to him.

...Though, he does make use of it.

All of this together would explain why Joris was envisioned, and could still turn out to be, someone who neither practices nor is attuned to magic, and how the idea of him being a powerless individual may have evolved.

It is important to note, that while I think he is mostly incapable of magic, he can probably still preform simple spells:

Joris is shown using some type of magic in the Wakfu series, though we don't know what sort of magic it is, and what is its source.

And, this is a bit more shaky, but he may be shown using some sort of electricity magic in Dofus MMO's battles — to enhance his mobility/melee attacks. The only reason I am unsure is that it could just be game-specific animations, to make the fight more interesting.

Either way it would make sense — Black Fire Dragons are living beings attuned to Stasis, but they are not devoid of Wakfu, (if they were, they would either be dead or necromes...) and Joris is simply an individual whose body was warped — capabilities for branching out into other types of magic could be limited, instead of being gone.

From possession to possessiveness:

While the main point of this post was to analyse the fact that the possession probably affected his magical capabilities, it is also important to note, that I don't think his psychology was untouched.

We have multiple sources claiming that dragons are, in general, emotionally unstable, as well as textual evidence of said fact (via Arty's Burning of Bonta, which is mentioned by Qilby; Grougalorasalar's... Grougalorasalarness, as well as Adamai's many crises.)

As well as an interesting quote by Qilby, in regard to Grougaloragran. But it comes with a preface:

While we don't know whether the vocabulary of "white fire/black fire" applies to the Eliatropes, it is important to consider this:

It was said by Tot that six dofus are required to create a world.

The appearance of a new primordial black fire dragon (Rotalström) in the necroworld could signify that having six primordial dragons for the four elements, as well as stasis and wakfu, is a constant between various worlds.

According to Tot, Rotalström was the last dragon defeated by Toross. Could it be that Primordial black fire dragons play an important role in keeping the world safe? And is this why Grougalorasalar is very active in the new manga?

This would probably make Grougaloragran a black fire dragon. It would also explain why he is both impulsive, and very keen on self-control and trying to be a kind person. But this isn't outright canon — just my speculation.

(It would also explain why Adamai knows how to use stasis magic at such a young age, having been raised by him.)

Which brings me to this point: it is interesting to think about the way Grougaloragran craves violence and destruction as a baby (cute), and how this quote about impulsiveness and jealousy also fits Grougalorasalar:

Many people may not know it, but there is a lot of lore pertaining to Grougalorasalar in the Dofus MMO — and especially to his child, Crocoburio.

Crocoburio and Grougalorasalar tried to devastate and control the lands, slaughtering countless people, and Grougalorasalar was madly obsessed with his offspring: whispering him advice in the dark, supporting him every step of the way, giving him enchanted items.

These aren't necessarily normal behaviours for a dragon — but his son was so much like him, that it bewitched him for centuries, even after he was gone.

The quests in the MMO involve Grougalorasalar wanting to ressurect his offspring, even if it damages Crocoburio's soul irreparably — and the player trying to ressurect Crocoburio without hurting him, to use as a bargaining chip.

What I am saying is that:

Joris is a very impulsive person, a misantrope prone to poor decision making, involving himself in situations that don't concern him, and anger issues. He is also obsessed with his family — his so called "sons" (they aren't, but the three of them love playing pretend).

And maybe it's just how he was born — but maybe, just maybe, this too, is something that can be in some way traced to Grougalorasalar.

But maybe Joris also relishes in having posessive control over Kerubim and Atcham. Maybe he also hates everyone else besides them, and barely tolerates some people outside the family unit, with his brief friendships with others. Maybe its just like Grougalorasalar, and his love for Crocoburio.

[dukeofdelirium]

What makes you think El is a manifestation of Will’s? It sounds like an interesting theory and I’ve heard it floating around, but I haven’t looked too much into the evidence and analysis people have for it

Honestly, there’s a lot of parallels and inspirations in ST that allude to it. The biggest for me is simply the fact that as soon as Will is taken, El just so happens to pop into Mike’s life. Then, when she leaves, Will comes back. The characters are constantly paralleled and interchanged, so much so that Hopper thinks he’s chasing Will all season 1 but in reality he’s hunting down El. She’s mistaken for a boy but also specifically for Will.

Then you have the Neverending Story parallel, which is consistently alluded to in ST.

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the Neverending Story, but a young boy named Bastian essentially manifests the fantasy world he gets sucked into. He creates a warrior boy character named Atreyu, who must save the fantasy world Fantasia from a dark force called the “nothing”. But when Bastian gets sucked into the fantasy world, he comes to realize only he can save it by acknowledging he is its creator. Thus, only he can change the neverending story. By naming his creation, he saves Fantasia and is released from the book.

there’s also the fact Will visually looks like Bastian

and El like Atreyu

Also, they’ve sung the song multiple times in the show and even had Will sing it in s4.

Turn around, look at what you see. In her face, the mirror of your dreams. Make believe I'm everywhere. I'm hidden in the lines. Written on the pages is the answer to a never-ending story

Reach the stars. Fly a fantasy. Dream a dream, and what you see will be. Rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds. And there upon a rainbow is the answer to a never-ending story

Show no fear, for she may fade away. In your hand, the birth of a new day. Rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds. And there upon a rainbow is the answer to a never-ending story

I could go on and on lmao. There are so many parallels between El and Will, and I always thought the Terry plot was sus as hell. Especially considering they’ve never elaborated on it. I don’t think Terry is El’s mother; I don’t think El has a mother. She’s a fragment of Will’s subconscious mind come to life. If the theory is that Will made the upside down what it is (and I believe he did) because he has the power of creation, then I believe he also made El to be his warrior the way Atreyu is to Bastian

[striderl]

your cyborgs, they are more human than i thought. I mean bully, gossip, tease, torment their own kind(reminds me of transformers). did they learn that from humans or are they actually humans transformed into cyborgs.

To clarify, a cyborg is a being with both biological and electronic components. In my classification of Skibidi Toilet’s hardware units, I divide them into three major kinds: fully mechanical robots, neural transferees, and half-organic cyborgs.

The members of the Rescue Squad 08 and the Filming Industry (Polaroid excluded) falls into the purview of fully mechanical robots — AI-driven entities built from scratch, without any organic origin. In my worldbuilding, most hardware agents are usually assigned a mentor after activation, where they undergo social and work-based training before deployment. The mentors plays a crucial role in shaping their behavior — a responsible mentor fosters maturity and human-like empathy, while an irresponsible one leaves them underdeveloped and prone to delinquency. This explains why some mechanical agents exhibit human-like traits, as these behaviors stem from observation and social conditioning rather than inherent programming. Unlike robots, half-organic cases were once human, but parts of their bodies have been replaced with cybernetic components. Examples include Polaroid and Lumix. In my headcanon, most cyborgs lose their memories after conversion due to the physical severing of their original heads. Additionally, memory wipes are often conducted to enhance performance — erasing past emotional ties prevents distraction and ensures their focus on the assigned mission. However, they retain core personality traits, muscle memory, and even subconscious preferences. There is some scientific speculation that the human heart stores certain memories, which explains lingering fragments of their past selves.

These cyborgs tend to be more physically sensitive and emotionally reactive than their fully mechanical counterparts, but this heightened human-like awareness comes at a cost — they are less durable in combat due to their biological components. 

This is the most complex category. Neural transferees were once fully human but had their consciousness transferred into a mechanical body — think of the process in Avatar. I have some theories regarding some Skibidi Toilet main casts being neural transferees, such as Plungerman (Dave), Plungerwoman (Cathy), TV Chief (Hakashita), and TV Woman. Among my own OCs, Komorebi and the large cam twins — Север (North) and Юг (South), also fall into this category.

Before the war, neural transfers were rare, and reserved for elite operatives and crucial intelligence personnel due to the complexity and cost of the process, the high risks and irreversibility of the process make it controversial and inaccessible to most. However, as the war escalated, the demand for specialized agents led the Alliance to start selecting human survivors — especially children — for the procedure. Children were preferred because their minds were more adaptable, making the transfer process smoother. Additionally, their vulnerability often made them a burden in survival camps, leading many groups to trade them to the Alliance in exchange for scarce resources.

North and South, for example, still think and act human despite losing their original bodies. They retained their memories and personalities, but the brutal reality of war forces them to mature faster than they should, sometimes propelling them to make decisions that seem cold and machina-like. The irony? The very process meant to preserve their humanity also destances them from it.

[dalimarisdaddy1967]

NEW GAME! NEW GAME!! NEW GAME!!!

It is only available for BETA rn but there is a new MCF game.

It is called The Riddle of Mrs. Bishop and it sounds so freaking cool from what I've been able to find.

Heads up for the post ahead! This post is a bit lengthy, since I tend to ramble, especially when I'm theorizing and getting excited! There is also a bit of a spoiler warning going ahead for the rest of this post because I found some stuff on the game and decided to share! Proceed with caution!

This is the official synopsis that I found on Fandom. It reads:'Get ready to take up the iconic badge once again when a disoriented, rambling stranger visits the agency asking for the Master Detective, kicking off an investigation into the unbelievable story of Mrs. Agnes Bishop. What initially seems like a case of mild confusion takes an alarming turn when the visitor mumbles a name that should be long forgotten in this timeline. Soon, the Master Detective is hot on the trail in a case of family jealousy, secrets and identities... but who's really in control? Face down a dangerous new enemy and survive deadly traps as you explore every corner of the Bishop's family Mansion in a case that could threaten everything you thought you knew about the Master Detective's past! Jump in for an unforgettable new chapter in this classic Hidden-Object Puzzle Adventure series!'

There's a lot to break down here but let me just pick it apart a bit. Firstly, who is Agnes Bishop? I have a few theories but I'll get into that in a moment. What really peaks my interest is the part about mumbling of a name that should be long forgotten. Who's name? Charles Dalimar that's who!

A quote from the Detective themself that says:'The time I spent as Charles Dalimar should have wiped so much of our shared past from this timeline. I need to know why this woman said his name.'

Why?! Why did she say his name?! Ahhhhh! This ties back into my theories on who Agnes Bishop is. I feel like she has some sort of relation to the Dalimars(obviously) whether that be by blood, marriage or being manipulated/mind controlled. There is definitely a connection to the Dalimars somewhere if this woman mentions Charles.

The old woman on the screen is supposedly Agnes Bishop. Who are you?! Why did you say Charles' name?! Also look at Evelyn Ravenhearst in this game. She's so pretty!

Speaking of Evelyn, I found this lengthy description on her page regarding The Riddle of Mrs. Bishop. The first paragraph reads:'It was revealed that Master Detective and Evelyn are storing the secret evidence from different timelines in the secret safe inside the new MCF Agency Headquarters. Only the Master Detective and Evelyn knew about this. Evelyn also revealed to receive a mysterious letter, precisely the year after the last one. The letter contained another raven feather, same as the last year's letter. No leads whatsoever about this.'

The second paragraph reads:'One day a mysterious old woman rushed into the Agency. Evelyn informed the client that Master Detective was unavailable and she asked the receptionist to direct her to the waiting room. The old woman mentioned Dalimar, and Evelyn then called the Master Detective immediately. When Master Detective arrived at her office, she thanked the Detective for arriving and told them the situation, informing them that the database was corrupted and that the agency technology department was currently working on it. She also informed them about the lady already picked up by her family. Moreover, Evelyn then gave the Detective the key to the security cameras and asked if they could recover the data. After the security footage was recovered, Master Detective showed it to Evelyn. She gave them the password fragments for the computer and told them to report back to her for any findings. After accessing the computer and gathering the data, they reported it back to Evelyn. The data revealed the name of the old woman, Agnes Bishop, and her location. Therefore, Evelyn informed the Detective about the upgrade of the agency car, and she deployed the Detective as Bishop Manor.'

Wow! I don't even know where to begin! This sounds so freaking cool! So lemme pick out the most important bits. So, yes, there are multiple timelines like I thought, and mentioned in my previous post and Master Detective and Evelyn Ravenhearst know about it! I knew Evelyn would eventually play a bigger role! You can't just drop a character like that without expanding on it! So... that ripped picture of Emma & Charles could show up in this game... that supposed 'fan art'. I think it will. If there is mention of other timelines then it's possible.

Also... just Agnes mentioning Charles... who the hell is this woman?! Is she related to the Dalimars? Is she an unfortunate mind controlled victim like Benedict Caldwell in Key To Ravenhearst? Who is this woman?! How does she know about Charles?! In this new timeline, Charles was supposed to have been sent back to the asylum so there shouldn't be issues in the present. Right? Right?! There are possibly other timelines at play here. Maybe... the original timeline still exists. The version of the timeline where all the Ravenhearst storyline happened could still exist! That version of Charles could still exist! Or it could be a different version! Gah! My head is gonna explode with all of these possibilities!

Another thing... a letter with a raven feather in it showing up, seemingly two years in a row. Hmm... raven feathers huh? Who would send a letter with a raven feather? Charles maybe? I think so especially considering that Agnes mentions him and Evelyn is related to Emma and looks a lot like her and well... that's a whole thing in itself there. Things are getting interesting!

The BETA was released on June 11th. I need the full game! I'm not playing anything until I have the full game. That would be a tease. Following their usual release schedule, this game should drop sometime around Thanksgiving(late November) so a little over a month! It can't get here fast enough! I am absolutely fiending for this game! Even a slight mention of Charles gets me hyped! That's my man! Gah! If any version of him shows up in this, I'm gonna cry tears of joy!

Okay... I'm done rambling. Let me know what you guys think and if you have any theories. I would love to discuss this.

@detectiveruth @masterdetectivemcf @macatt4c @fallenidol-453 @redrum-eht @hakurakurohime @proustianlesbian @thebiggestpartypooper @rebellovesthings @artsydon @hiddenobject-fanblog @pookiethebloodsucker @apeirotilio @ink-and-pixels @arty-girl-asks @angelsmama1968

[leggo-my-aego]

SxF Theory based on ch. 93!!

This is purely based off the small interactions we have with this little old man right here and the relation he may or may not have with anya's past

i think that not only was he a part of the project that Anya was a part of, i think he CREATED the foundation of the technology used to create the chimera experiments with Bond and with Anya's ability to read minds.

It would make a lot of sense as he states that one of the subjects he specializes in is Neurology, the study of the brain.

Also, his character design is very obviously supposed to look like Albert Einstein. Which is super important because Einstein developed the atomic theory that led to the development of the nuclear bomb. Ltrly the most devastating technology created in mankind. And Einstein was recorded to say that he deeply regretted even developing that theory.

So what does that have to do with this guy?

I think that Sigmund Authen theorized and developed the concept of a way to gain a higher neurological prowess. He said that he "dabbled in cultural anthropology," and a specialty in neurology, he was probably touring the world to understand the concept of the brain in different environments and the developmental aspects.

It's shown in a lot of sci-fi media about "unlocking 100% of the brain" and I think Sigmund found a way to do that. He probably showed this research to higher ups with good intentions to develop the human body but of course, the people in power wanted to use this for damaging purposes. And the fact he was pretty much MIA during the war that his wife didnt even know wtf he was doing just supports the timeline. Also, him being at the *start* of the project would make it plausible on why Sigmund and Anya wouldnt recognize each other.

I think Sigmund saw or found out about the inhumane experiments done in order to fulfill his theory and wanted to put a stop to it.

BUT

the head of the project (or whatever) stopped him and used his own research against him by wiping his memory of the events. Im guessing a very sketchy lobotomy that left him in the state he is in now where he forgets a LOT of what is happening most of the time. Which kinda shows how Anya can only get fragmented thoughts and very old memories when she reads his mind.

I had this in the back burner but this ^^^ panel from the latest chapter pretty much solidified it for me. Especially with the parallels of regret with Einstein's atomic theory. Also him saying that makes me think he prbly remembers fragments of the project or the feeling of regret was too strong for him to regret from that moment.

Either way, I cant wait to see more chapters! It definitely looks like we're continuing this Anya-centered arc with the way things are developing!