#everyone's mask is slipping because the ship was sacrificed in the name of fixing and enriching ada's character

[sapphire-weapon]

not to be That Guy but

every so often I just search "Separate Ways" on Twitter to see general reactions to it and

overall, people are freaking out over the fact that it's not only better than but also longer than RE3make. there's also a bunch of pissed off fanboys crying about how they have to pay $10 for something that "was free when it came out originally," not realizing that Separate Ways very much was not free when it came out originally; it was $50.00 because you had to rebuy THE ENTIRE GAME on PS2.

and if you didn't have a PS2, you had to buy that, too. so, for some people, Separate Ways was actually hundreds of dollars when it came out originally. jackasses.

and then there's another certain subset of people whose reactions are just causing me to

[artpharos]

36 with any berseria ship of your choice hehe

Well you did say… any ship of my choice >___> I’m only sorry it wasn’t the Van Eltia. 

36. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Artorius often had nightmares.

Daemons. Malevolence, thick in the air and seeping through the ground. People- exorcists- dying all around him, fighting in a hopeless battle. Malaks screaming in pain as malevolence swarmed them, before their own exorcists killed them. Blood, blood all around. 

It was always the same. At night, the darkness he sought to escape from would lurk just behind his eyelids, filling his dreams with every manner of horror his soul could recall. The duty he had abandoned because it was too much- too difficult- to recall everything that had been sacrificed; everything horrible that tainted his world. A hopeless mission that he could no longer achieve. 

But this time was different. There was a pressure on his arm, shaking him purposefully, while an unfamiliar voice called out his name.

“Arthur! Arthur!”

Artorius woke with a start, lurching from the bed, only to stumble into someone lithe and small. At first he couldn’t tell where he was, and panic filled his mind- until a soft hand began stroking the back of his head, and a gentle voice whispered in his ear.

“Shhh,” she- for it was a she- murmured. “It’s okay. You were just having a nightmare.”

For some reason, the soothing tone in her voice pierced through the panic. He breathed, one breath, then the next. And as his memories settled, he remembered where he was, and who she was.

He was in Aball. He came here to die. Before Celica dragged him home, fed him, and put him in the guest room of her house. Where he was now, being embraced by a woman he barely knew.

Slowly, Artorius pulled back. Didn’t dare meet her eyes. “I’m alright now,” he said. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“Don’t be.” Even in the darkened room, Artorius could make out her soft smile. “Everyone gets nightmares, sometimes. I’ve woken Velvet and Laphi from their share too, so there’s no need to feel guilty over it.”

“Was I making a lot of noise?”

“The worst.” Celica nodded sagely. But then her face lit up with a smile once more, and she murmured, “It’s alright if you want to talk to me about it. Maybe it’ll help.”

Artorius stared at her. “How? How can you be so… kind? To a stranger like me?”

“Huh?” Celica gaped at him.

“Some landlords would probably have thrown me out by now.” Artorius flashed her a humorless smile. “Instead, you comfort strange men after they have a nightmare.”

“Well, I’m not a landlord,” Celica returned. “And you can call it kindness, I’m not so heartless to throw out someone just because they have a nightmare. That’s not how my parents raised me.”

Artorius chuckled. “Noted.”

She smiled. Gave him a tiny pat on his hand. “If that’s all-”

He grabbed her hand. Honestly, Artorius didn’t know when he moved or why, but when she fixed her curious brown eyes on him, he felt… safe. The first time, in over ten years.

“Arthur?”

“I’m sorry, Celica,” he murmured. “But, do you mind sitting with me? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

He didn’t know how she’d react, whether he reached the limits of her patience. But instead, she smiled sweetly and settled down next to him.

“Of course, Arthur. I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

But she wasn’t, was she? 

Celica died, along with their unborn son, and Arthur was left buried and forgotten, a name that would no longer pass his lips. Artorius was an exorcist, the one who carried on Claudin’s will. The one who would save humanity from their ultimate destruction.

But still, no matter how powerful he became, the nightmares persisted. Changed, even, to incorporate the worst of his memories. Time and time again, Artorius was forced to watch Celica slip from his hands, watch as everything he loved- everything he lived for- was torn away into an all-consuming abyss. 

It was on nights like this when he would wake up trembling on his bed, alone in a cold stone room, with nobody around him. And he’d have to remind himself to still his grief, to kill Arthur once more, to maintain control over his emotions- to stop the malevolence that always lurked deep within his flawed, human heart.

But tonight was different.

She was there, the flame in her hands casting light in the darkened room. A luminous butterfly, bound to him. Her beautiful, flaming eyes hidden by a heavy mask. For some reason, seeing her here, now, brought a lump to his throat, and Artorius glanced away. 

“Seres.”

“Lord Artorius.” Her voice was stern and commanding, full of power and grace. “You were having a nightmare. I came to check on you.”

“Thank you,” he answered, “but I am fine. My apologies if I disturbed you.”

He expected her to fade away, like she usually did when he dismissed her. But instead, he heard an echo of a gasp, a faltering click of her shoes on stone floor.

“Seres?” He turned to face her, to see what was wrong with the malak.

She stood poised and calm as always, her voice emotionless as she spoke. “It would be unwise to leave you, my lord, when you are this troubled.”

He smiled humorlessly. “Are you offering to listen to me?” he asked. Unlike most malaks, Seres didn’t have her will bound. Thankfully, she knew her place- she was his tool, just a thing to be used. Anything she did, she had a reason for it.

“If these nightmares continue to plague you, you will not be able to rest.”

“If talking about them would make them leave,” Artorius replied, “you’ll be the first to know.”

“My lord?”

He shook his head. How could he explain that, no matter how much he tried, he’d never be able to forget the sight of Celica, tumbling into the dark, hand outstretched towards him? Never be able to forget the heart-wrenching grief that had consumed him then, nor the guilt that kept him going, kept him strong? How could he explain the nightmares, the pain that made him able to use his reincarnated wife and child as nothing more than tools in his battle against malevolence? 

Seres was silent for a time. Her heels clicked against the floor as she shifted her stance. 

“You’re still here?” He rounded onto her, surprised. Seres was rarely disobedient. Never, in fact.  

Then, without a single word, she moved towards him, and before he knew it, she was holding him in a familiar embrace.

“Seres-” He wanted to push her aside. To stop the feelings that welled up in him at her touch, the memories and the light-hearted joy that so easily turned to grief. The sensation of safety. Of kindness. But when he touched her arm, he faltered.

“If you wish me to stop, Lord Artorius, you need only say so,” she said. Her voice was soft, gentler than he was used to. So much like the woman he still loved. The woman he could never forget.

He closed his eyes. Let himself pretend, if for a moment, that they were back in Aball. That he was Arthur, and she was his beloved Celica, holding him like she always did. Comforting and soft, gentle and kind. 

“Perhaps,” he murmured, “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Of course,” she replied. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”