#guess the lore (wrong answers only)

[artinandwritin]

Was able to do some some more refined sketches after my warm up (a much needed thing after all the homework things I've been doing haha)

And oops all that came out of it was gussiri angst on a very cutesy pink grid (ive got a pink aesthetic going and im not gonna divert from that lmao)

Another doodle underneath the cut!

[databent]

doing long diviison for fun will have people asking "what the fuvk is wronw with uou" and well cant a guy havea little numbers. my numbers hobby. a special long division treat for me

[14dayswithyou]

I'm sorry if this already been answered but I swear I couldn't find if... I'm curious how would enraged Ren(dacted) look like? Like we've seen him a little pissed off but that's pretty much it. How would he(both versions) react if mc did something REALLY unsavory? Or other people who are not potential murder targets (like completelly unrelated to mc, just pissed him off personally and are not worth making his hands dirty). Would he yell? Would he just suck it up? Retaliate somehow? Throw a punch? I know he wouldn't hurt our mc but still he seems like quite an irritable fella, even his Renren mask can't hide it lol Also how does he behave when eleminating targets? Like is he the *laughing maniacly* type of yandere or the ice cold and silent type? Would he have a long talk with the target telling them just how wrong they were? Play a little game maybe? Or would he just quickly do the deed and forget about it? Also...why the sledgehammer?? Looks cool and all but it's not the handiest murder weapon out there... Are there any lore reasons for it?

✦゜ANSWERED: cw: mentions of gore, torture, murder, and similar themes. Also not proofread because I'm on mobile and formatting is p a i n T_T

I've mentioned this a few times before, but [REDACTED] is an extremely patient guy. It'd take a lot to make them feel genuinely pissed off — but even then — they're eerily cold and apathetic, which might result in zero reaction out of them. Because they're so apathetic, there's nothing stopping [REDACTED] from just offing the person who's annoying them and continuing on with his day.

I think the only thing that'd elicit a genuine reaction out of them is if someone killed Angel. But obviously this is ignoring the fact that [REDACTED] will only respond emotionally to Angel and no one else. He would genuinely start tearing up if Angel cupped his cheek and told him that they truly loved him.

[REDACTED] is also very unfazed when eliminating their targets. There's hardly any emotion shown on his face outside of an occasional smug or triumphant smirk — but most of the time — it's nothing more than an unsparing glean in their eyes. If [REDACTED] went through with their red room days, they would most likely play up an online persona to make themself seem more interesting to their viewers (all whilst he tortures his victims). So... I guess his behaviour is very dependent on what the situation is and what it calls for.

[REDACTED] is a genuinely apathetic person (if it doesn't involve Angel), though he'll put on a persona if it's necessary.

As for the sledgehammer; Ren is 6'5" (personally) and has a sleeper build. He's more than capable of swinging it around like it weighs nothing, using it as a barricade to lock his victims in a room, break their limbs and stop them from running, or just make himself look scarier just by dragging a bloodied weapon across the floor. [REDACTED] also frequents rage rooms, so he's accustomed to swinging around a sledgehammer than, say, a gun or knife.

I've also mentioned this before, but Ren can do more damage to someone with a phone or laptop than a sledgehammer!!

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

The Family Business

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: You (20+ ish) are starting to feel left out by your brothers, but maybe not for the reason you think.

“Hey, we’ve got a case just a couple of hours away, looks like it could be a djinn.”

You looked up as Sam and Dean entered the library, Dean delivering the news.

“Ok, I’ll go get my stuff.” You started to rise from your chair, but Sam held up his hands.

“Actually, I think we’re good. You should, uh, you should just stay here.”

You were so surprised that by the time you thought of speaking up, your brothers were already past you and headed for the door.

“You sure?” You called out faintly.

“Yup,” Sam assured you before following Dean out the door.

You weren’t quite sure what had just happened. Ever since you’d become old enough to hunt, the boys had never left for a hunt without you.

Your mind started running back through the past week, trying to think of why your brothers wouldn’t want you around. All you could come up with was a moment from the last hunt; you had almost gotten hurt by a werewolf, but Dean had assured you over and over that it was his fault, not yours.

Maybe he had changed his mind.

…

The next two weeks passed much the same, with the boys not only excluding you from hunts, but from just about everything else that they did. They studied lore in the library without filling you in on anything they were hunting, they had a movie night in the Dean cave without inviting you, and they just excluded you in general from anything they did together, which was everything.

Some part of you felt that you should be angry at this, but instead despair clouded your emotions at each new rejection. You’d convinced yourself that it was because of that one mistake a few hunts ago, because what else could it be?

You’d lost your brothers’ trust, and with it their companionship. And you had no idea how to win it back.

You’d spent the last two weeks getting closer and closer to a breakdown. You could feel it—your mood was constantly gloomy, you’d almost completely lost your appetite, and you spent most of your time hidden in your room. Things that used to be so simple—asking Sam if you could join him on a run, joining Dean during shooting practice—now filled you with anxiety. You’d always felt comfortable doing things with your brothers, but the thought that they didn’t want you around made you second guess everything you did.

Unfortunately, the breakdown came at a time you didn’t appreciate.

“Hey, we’re headed out for a hunt.” You looked up from the book you were reading as Sam peaked into your room to update you.

“Do you need any help?” This was your standard question, despite the fact that you knew he’d say no again. You weren’t wrong.

“No, we’re fine. We’ll probably be back in a week, it’s pretty far away.”

Your heart plummeted to your stomach at his words. You’d been feeling lonely enough with the brothers ignoring you, but for them to leave completely for a whole week?

“Are you—“ you stopped yourself completely when your voice cracked. You wanted to ask if he was sure, if he’d let you come along anyway, if there was anything you could do. But if he didn’t trust you or want you, the last thing you wanted to be was a burden. Besides, with the crack in your voice came a stinging behind your eyes, and you really didn’t want to cry in front of Sam.

But still, Sam had heard the start to your question, and he turned to listen.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing.” Your voice came out as a choked mumble, and you cursed yourself, knowing that Sam would hear it. Sure enough—

“Hey, you ok?”

You focused your gaze on the book in your lap to avoid Sam’s penetrating stare as you answered.

“Yeah, fine.” Your voice didn’t come out at all the way you wanted it to, and you could feel your eyes misting over as you struggled to make your breathing sound normal with the lump building in your throat. You’d been keeping your feelings in for far too long, and apparently Sam’s words sparked your short fuse.

The book in front of you suddenly disappeared, snatched up by Sam’s hand as he came to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Ok, come on now, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” You pulled your knees to your chest, still not looking at your big brother.

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

You reluctantly lifted your head to look into Sam’s dark eyes despite knowing that he would see your unshed tears.

“What’s wrong?” Sam’s gaze was soft as flower petals, and his voice was hushed.

He thinks you’re weak.

You tried to push the voice in your head away as you finally faced your brother.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you said again. “Go on your hunt with Dean.”

“Don’t do that,” Sam said. “Don’t just shut me out.”

Something inside you snapped.

“Shut you out?” Your voice rose. “That’s rich, coming from you!”

Sam was taken aback by your sudden change.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how you keep leaving me behind! I haven’t been on a hunt in weeks, and we never do anything together anymore!” Your anger was slipping back into despair, and you fought to stop it.

“Honey, we didn’t mean to—“ Sam was at a loss for words. “We just—“

“Just go.” You could feel yourself losing the battle as your tears returned. “Go away!” The pillow you threw at him missed by a mile, but he backed off anyway, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

The second he was gone, your resolve disappeared along with your anger. You tightened your arms around your knees and sobbed, burying your face in your knees as your whole body shook. Between the hunt you screwed up and the way you just acted with Sam, you didn’t think your brothers would ever want to be around you again.

…

Your whole body froze when you heard your door opening. You struggled to hold in your sobs, even though that meant holding your breath, too.

“Hey kid.”

Dean this time, not Sam.

“Shouldn’t you be on a hunt?” You managed to choke out, and you cringed at the sound of your tearful voice.

“Not until I tell you why you weren’t invited,” Dean replied.

Your throat constricted, and you swallowed hard.

“I already know why.”

“Do you?” You heard rather than saw when Dean closed the door behind him and stepped further into the room. “Because I’m starting to think that I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not right.”

Your forehead crinkled in confusion, but you kept your head down.

“What?”

Your bed dipped as Dean sat on the end.

“You think it’s because of that hunt two weeks ago. Well, you’re right about that, sort of.”

You felt your hands start to shake as a sob unintentionally escaped your lips.

“Hey now.” Dean sighed, and you felt his hand on your shoulder. “It’s ok, just breathe.” His other hand came up to your other shoulder, and you felt his fingers flex as he pulled you towards him. You tucked your legs under you, opting instead to bury your face against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed. “I didn’t mean to—“

“Shh, hey now,” Dean soothed, his hands coming up to cradle your head. “You didn’t let me finish, kiddo. I told you that that hunt wasn’t your fault, and I meant it. It was mine. But I almost got you killed out there, and I—“ Dean’s voice caught, and in the brief silence that followed he realized that your sobs had subsided, and you were breathing more evenly in his arms. Dean felt his own eyes start to sting as he thought about the way you almost died on that hunt. “And I realized,” he continued, “That we never bothered to see if you wanted this.”

“What?” You asked quietly.

“Look, I picked this life. Sammy tried to get out of it, but ultimately he picked it too. But you’ve just done what we told you, you followed us, but we never asked if you wanted to. Now, I know that that wasn’t how dad did things, he had to make us be a part of this life for our own protection. But now things are different. If you don’t want this, I’m not gonna make you do it.”

As Dean spoke, you began to feel so relieved that you nearly laughed.

“Why didn’t you tell me, you idiot?” You demanded, and at Dean’s chuckle you actually did laugh.

“Sam didn’t want to dump all this on you. He said we should let you sit out a few hunts first, then ask.”

“Why didn’t you let me help you with lore?” You pressed on, still confused.

“We didn’t want you to think you were benched from hunts, figured it would be best to just not have you do any of it.” Dean chuckled again. “I guess it was a stupid idea.”

“So…you do want me on hunts?” You mumbled.

“Of course we do,” Dean said firmly. “But not if you don’t want to be out there. This life could get you killed, you’ve gotta choose it if you want it.”

“Knock knock.” The two of you turned as Sam stepped into the room. “Hey, how’re we doing in here?”

“I think we’re ok,” Dean said, pulling away from you. “You think?”

“Yeah.” Your lips twitched into a smile. “We’re good.”

“What do you think about…joining us on the hunt?” Sam asked hesitantly. “Only if you want to.”

“I think…” you grinned. “Someone has to watch your butts.”

Sam laughed. “So that’s a yes?”

“I’ll get my stuff.”

You hopped off the bed so you could pack, but Dean climbed off next to you and pulled you into his arms.

“Welcome to the family business, kid.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade

[wingedshadowfan]

⚠️arcane s2 act iii spoilers // criticism ⚠️

i kind of hated the end of arcane. hear me out.

i don't wanna rain on anyone's parade but we can all agree season 2's pacing was super breakneck. not a lot got explained or was given the proper time to develop or be addressed (at least in front of us, the audience, that is - but even then, some things could've been hinted at better) and this goes for both lore, motivations and interpersonal character relationships. (and i can give many examples such as the black rose, maddie's true motivations, caitlyn and vi's fight, jinx rallying up the undercity, viktor and ambessa's plans diverging, etc. but instead, i'll tell you what i think went wrong with what we got to see in the last three eps)

seeing where ep 7 left us made me think "okay ep 8 will start from the same exact spot and we'll see from there" and ofc my expectations were defied but that's not my main problem. i needed to know what happened to ekko, jayce and heimerdinger but even more than that, i wanted to see jinx grieve isha in her own way (by herself and not through being asked or guilt tripped to help someone else's agenda bcuz she clearly had little intrinsic motivation to unite the undercity over a common goal after silco's death) and internalize what she'd meant to isha - and that becoming jinx's catalyst to rally up the undercity. i wanted her to understand why this orphan from the undercity's mines sacrificed herself to save jinx - the symbol of a cause greater than her. i needed her to see what unifying zaun and making tangible institutional change to the undercity would mean in a way sevika never would've been able to show her. it would mean no more powders, no more ishas. not one more. breaking the cycle of violence, poverty, oppression, somewhat like what silco said in ep 9 (which she interpreted as 'you're the problem, so kys' and she attempted to until somehow ekko convinced her to help. how, why and did she even unite the undercity at all or just make her big hot air balloon late-to-the-party entrance with the firelights to a stray kids banger while sevika did all the work down in zaun?).

anyway, ep 8 threw us in for a loop in an alternative universe (and i loved it, don't get me wrong, but considering there were only 2 normal length eps left, it scared me just as much). instrumentally to the plot, we got to see ekko's main ability develop, and we saw jayce's reasons for shooting viktor. the main conflict of the show, the piltover/zaun one, if those 1,5 seasons so far were anything to go by, just got set aside for the time being. over halfway through the season, we've got a new big bad - the possibility of everyone getting possessed by the viktor/hexcore and becoming part of The Glorious Evolution™. it felt like a movie about racism and police brutality added aliens in the last 5 minutes to force oppressed and oppressors to (not all that successfully) work together, massive losses were suffered by everyone, and then the overarching motif wasn't about love or humanity or rebuilding (things that have come up repeatedly in other episodes, including the one ep literally called 'the messege hidden within the pattern'), it was "bad things happen sometimes, but good things happen sometimes too. it is what it is. i guess." like. duh?? as a viewer, this was quite the disappointing ending takeaway from such a masterpiece of a show but more on that in a second.

narratively, we saw a butterfly effect situation in ep 8 that answered the question of 'what could've been?' but even that answer confused me. the undercity was already oppressed and in socioeconomical peril before jayce's hextech - vi's death during that last job (which makes me believe zaun was the same in both universes because why else would they be poor enough to steal from piltover?) prevented it from being invented and thus stopping other things in piltover from happening but how did it lead to progress in the undercity? what happened and what was the key to it all along? why did shimmer not get invented, how did zaun and piltover seemingly unite, why were zaunites all of a sudden seemingly so much materially and culturally richer and better educated in just a few years? (that aside, i love ekko's determination to get back and save his universe's zaun. i loved the alternative jinx and i loved how everyone was wearing vests 10/10)

then, ep 9 felt like a bunch of confusing things happening one after the other to the point it almost overwhelmed me and i was left thinking i didn't understand a single thing from it (except maybe that one scene - that, i understood spiritually). and the first maybe 90% of ep 10 felt like i was just repeatedly getting hit, and again - no time to breathe, no consolation, no resolve, just receiving bad news after bad news, like getting beaten to the ground with stones.

and at the very end, after some of the ends get tied, caitlyn has her speech, which to me, sounds more depressing and hollow than anything else. she talks ambiguously of history and of ups and downs and of a story not yet over, but there's no promise for the future, no motivation to keep going, no bigger picture, no lesson learned. we're not shown much work being done either (and i'll make a separate post examining why it felt that way to me and a separate one abt how i interpreted her conversation w/ vi at the very end). i was left a bit confused, somewhat unsatisfied, and very, very sad.

did anyone else feel that way too? what did i miss, did i misinterpret or misunderstand something? please i'm going insane i had two different friends tell me they had no idea what i was talking about and that the ending was everything they wanted and more

[anxiousapplepie]

Worldbuilding and lore are always important; they bring a world to life and allow room for other stories later on.

Regardless, onto my next question! We've established that eye colour depends on the family's colour / identity. But like, how exactly does that get chosen with a Bud made by multiple partners, be it two or five or maybe even ten if we wanted to go crazy? Does it depend on who exactly 'initiates' the thing or something else?

There's also two things to bring up that are relevant to this. There's multicolour shenanigans like Jim, even though his eyes are yellow. Wonder why yellow? I assume he's not the only multicolour in his family, but I could be wrong. THERE'S ALSO THE FACT BRISTLY HAS RED AND YELLOW IN HIS EYES. MULTICOLOUR IRIS. What exactly is the parentage that led to those eyes being what they are?

Also, you're awesome, and I'm glad you enjoyed the thought process behind answering my prior ask. Making the mind work out a bit is always fun! ☆

Okay! Time to put on my teacher hat again and share some more info about eye colors in RK!!

As you figure, a Bud's eye color depends on what color magic their parent had when they were created! For those created asexually by a Rose without questionable heritage, there is no doubt the kid's eyes will be the same as the parent's magic/hair.

For the Buds created sexually by two or a dozen Roses, what eye color they will get is entirely random. Though Roses do believe that the one who gave the "strongest" magic to a Bud will determine the eye color, but that is not backed up by science. Believe me, all the illegitimate children the late Rose King Henry helped create can attest to that.

And let's not forget what happens when Dragon genetics get involved! If a Rose has any Dragon ancestry, there's a chance the Bud will get either their parent's hair color OR green eyes. Lot's of Roses who want to hide their Dragon roots will often try to hook up with as many Roses as possible when creating a child- as a way to make it harder to trace the "wildness" back to them. There are obviously outliers to this rule (and wearing contacts to hide your true eye color doesn't make it any easier) but if a Bud was created sexually, anything goes and good luck to any outsider trying to figure out who the 'true' parent is!

And you'd be very correct! Jim is FAR from the only Multicolored Rose in his family. But unlike most of his extended family, Jim's mother married into the family and her color was yellow. Both Jim and his sister's eyes reflect her color instead of their father's. As for Bristly's eye colors? I think you guys can make some educated guesses. >:3

[circeius-invidioso]

What I love about the forgotten legions in 40k is that you can construct some wild theories and there is no one to stop you. Games workshop doesn't care but we do.

But my personal concern is.

The lore says unknown, but I am not satisfied with that response.

So today we will attemp to get inside Malcador's head and answer one of the Imperium's best kept secrets.

The facts we have so far

BUT WAIT.

The plot thickens because if we take it as fact that the geneseed was stolen from another legion we have to guess who is the father?

But fear not we have more evidence as to guess who might be.

1) All of the Grey Knights are sorcerers and pretty powerful ones at that.

2) One of the first hand picked, finger pointed, wholeheartedly selected Grey Knights was a Night Lord.

3) They are smug, walking talking warp magic nukes. They have that wap. Wild ass potential.

Also I am not joking. The Emperor saw that Night Lord and I guess was impressed by his human skin collection and agreed for him to join.

Malcador too. But at this point we all can agree Malcy Malc boy was a thief. Bad choices is his strongest suit.

SO.

👏🏻

Dad Theory No1

THE FATHER MIGHT BE. (empasis on might but it would be really funny if it was the truth)

Same same. But now a different picture. From a better angle.

The Crimson King is their dad.

Yes I am serious.

My limited research leads me to believe Magnus was the one... used for his geneseed by Malcador to create the loyalist version of nucler houdinis.

And you know what would make this theory even funnier if it was true.

Oh yes. Or oh no. Its the same at this point.

If the Grey Knights are indeed just a bunch of Thousand Sons but painted chrome and artificially orphaned.

That bastard Malcador.

He created 1000 sons and did not even have the decency to tell them who their dad was.

1000 men left out in the cold. With no place to call home.

1000 Sons -

1000 SONS PEOPLE THE GREY KNIGHTS ARE 1000 IN TOTAL. THATS THE FINAL CLUE WE NEEDED.

THEY ARE THE SONS OF MAGNUS BUT IN KNIGHT COSPLAY.

THIS IS CANON NOW.

MALCADOR STOLE MAGNUS SEED (THAT SOUNDS WRONG). AND MADE THE GREY KNIGHTS.

AND NOT ONLY THAT RUBRIC HAPPENED AND SINCE THOSE DUDES DON'T KNOW WHO THEIR DAD IS THEY PROBABLY WOKE UP ONE DAY +10 IN ALL THEIR STATS AND COULD NOT EXPLAIN WHY

Case closed

This is canon now

What will games workshop do?

Refute it?

[nyaskitten]

EDIT: THIS POST IS INACCURATE !!!

I made the assumption Olive was editing the wiki articles, and while that's a very logical conclusion to reach, it was actually someone who shares the same viewpoints as them!!! Anything including the wiki articles and Olive's involvement is wrong and that's my bad!!!

Alright fellas, I guess we did it. We have reached the tipping point. I'm going to dedicate this post to calling out one specific person, @olivescales3, and their very toxic behavior. This post will be a bit messy, and I do apologize in advance, I'm writing this from the perspective of a Ninjago fan who also thinks beyond just the petty fandom stuff, what they're doing is just not cool.

I will clarify, I do not make this post for petty fandom drama, I make this to better spread awareness on some of the bullshit they're doing, so you can look out for and understand that they're bullshitting. Without further ado, I think we should just get into it.

So, what have they done?

Now, I should say while there is no 100000% concrete link between hyenabro and olivescales, I think based on their talking points (as well and the information I've recieved from friends in the Chima fandom, who have a bunch of prior experience with them,) it's safe to make this assumption!

So, what has olivescales DONE in this case? Simple, they've vandalized the Chima wiki on NUMEROUS occasions, even after several different people have revised their revisions, so as to discredit any conenctions between Dragons Rising and Chima.

(Green is their edits, red is the ones prior to theirs, I found this while going through their contributions section on their Fandom account, HyenaBro119)

As seen here, they have (under the username HyenaBro119) edited the pages for Chima AND the Forever Rock (I have two similar screenshots of essentially the same thing, one was from the Forever Rock article, the other was from Chima) and claimed Ninjago's lore to be some alternate universe. To further validate it, they write "Ras' visit to," but Ras NEVER claimed to have VISITED these locations, just that he knows them. They also claim the Forever Rock was destroyed, a blatant lie. Only a small section of rock on the Forever Rock was actually destroyed, not the whole thing.

Now, you're gonna ask "but Raine, how can you 100000% say it's them?" and I will cite common sense. While I cannot directly tie Olive to hyena, I CAN say their wording is SO very similar.

Both Hyena and Olive call DR "a parallel/alternate universe," and again, claim Forever Rock was destroyed, WHICH IS A FULL ON LIE. They're so adamant to protect "the sanctity of Chima's pre-established, set-in-stone lore" that they can't stop to think maybe, JUST MAYBE, sometimes a story can get new lore which can ALSO be canon!

I'd also love to share this HILARIOUS screenshot of one of their many posts, which not only backs up what I'm saying, but it's like damn they really set themself up huh!

Gee I wonder why you feel alone! Maybe it's because you are! Maybe it's because you're lying and making shit up to prove yourself right! No one is as big of a hater as you!

The also LOVE saying Ninjago cannot do anything with Chima unless they get express permission from the creator of Chima, some guy named John Derevlany, but oh man what's this I see before me?

CO-CREATOR? Oh but Olive, I thought he was the CREATOR of Chima, not CO-creator... ALSO Lego owns the rights to Chima, and Ninjago, and every other theme, as said by Doc himself! If anything he wasn't really dodging the question, just giving a vague answer, because he doesn't know much about the old contracts!

From what he said, it's clear that if they wanted to use anything from the other themes, they'd have to consult folks over at LEGO, not John Derevlany or Tommy A.!

Now here's the THING, I GET where they're coming from, it CAN be annoying to have people only care about a thing you like in relation to something else, but when you're going out of your way to argue that none of it can be canon and it's all an alternate universe it's like... god it's so sad and pathetic really.

Their lies and BS don't even end there with the wiki shit, because I have THIS glorious gem.

A) They bring up that the Ninjago folk do not know who the Phoenixes are which is like, okay??? Why the fuck are they gonna know about how another universe was created??? That's like if someone told me I don't exist in the same universe as my glasses because I have no clue who made them, that is to say, that's stupid as FUCK to say!

B) OH they say something REAAALLL funny ohohohho I am actually dying. Olive says the Phoenix icon "appeared in a Ninjago episode" and "Ninjago tends to reuse assets." Yep, NINJAGO is the one who reused the phoenix symbol, mhm. The symbol that was made in 2011 for NINJAGO, which cameoed in CHIMA in 2014, was actually just an asset reuse by Ninjago. I feel like this actually goes to show how desparate they are to feel right and validated, because this? This a lie! Ninjago made the symbol, and because Tommy A. is co-creator to both, he wanted to slip in a neat Ninjago reference, so he slipped in the Phoenix symbol Nya uses for the Phoenix tribe, not the other way around!

Another REALLY funny thing they did, aside from the wiki and Phoenix symbol shit, was this hilarious attempt at being right!

Yes, the compared the WOLF Masks to BATman's cowl, and did a horribly rough comparison illustration that very much does not make sense. If you actually compared them side by side, the only similarities would be they're both angry animal themed mask with pointy ears, which does NOT go very far in the long run. The foreheads they drew aren't even the same fucking shape lol.

OH ANS WE CANNOT FORGET THIS ONE! Their using a post about the Palestinian genocide and boycotting Lego in order to complain about Ninjago.

They claim Ninjago is produced by Lego, unlike other Lego shows, which is an EXTREMELY bullshit fucking claim. Just like Chima and Nexo Knights, Ninjago is produced by Lego, it's not JUST Ninjago produced by Lego, they are all Canadian-Danish CGI action shows, and they're all known to have Tommy Andreasen involved in the creation of them.

They're using a post about boycotting for the sake of innocent people DYING to complain about a lego ninja show for... killing evil people? It doesn't glorify war, the worst it does in regards to war is like not address how fucked up it can be in regards to the Serpentine War, but that's like it. I think it's so funny they want to single out Ninjago as if it's the only TV series where villains die for trying to conquer/destroy the world.

So, what do I want the takeaway from this post to be? What do I want you to get from it? I don't really know anymore, I just don't want Olive's horrendously toxic behaviors, and straight up lies to stop. If anything I think it's beautiful that Ninjago is making others interested in revisiting Chima again, stop being such a fucking hater dude. They act like Chima is some holy grail of Lego, the greatest thing since bread, but it, just like Ninjago, Dreamzzz, Hidden Side, and Nexo Knights, have Tommy in creative roles.

To act like Chima is somehow greater than is to place it on an unrealistic pedestal as if it's a godsend, when in reality it was co-created by Tommy Fucking Andreasen.

If you read through all of this, I do THOROUGHLY appreciate it, I didn't mean for this post to descend into an angry ramble but ehhh yk how it is. And Olive, if you see this, please, just stop with the bullshit.

[whyareyoulookingatmelikethat]

bro the interactions between sprout and toon!reader must be insanee for reader after what happened in think fast. On that note since req are open may we get an aftermath of who picked up reader or a interaction witj normal sprout after the fic? The lore is actially making me go crazy. I need answers

If your still takings reqs of course. Have a good day!

This was interesting to think about! Reader definitely has some trauma, she won't be going on any other runs for a while.

If Twisted Sprout's on the floor though any times past "the incident", she'll have a panic attack and seek out the nearest twisted that isn't him so it can kill her, because she just can't face him, whether twisted or toon.

『Bearing Burden』

This is the second part tooooooooo...*drum roll* Story #16!

HELP THIS TURNED INTO MORE OF A POPPY X READER THAN A SPROUT X READER IM SORRY REQUESTER

…And then the galaxies faded away.

…

You awoke with a gasp, gripping at your chest and struggling for air.

…Right. Back here.

You breathed heavily, letting the cool sensation of air fill your lungs again. It was dark. Dark and eerie.

Of course, this was nothing new.

Only Qwel knows how many times you’d arrived here after what you thought could only be described as dying.

You felt a growing pit of despair in your stomach the more time you had to think about what just happened. Your ears rung as you shakily stood, and a massive headache suddenly struck you. You let out a groan.

…Guess all there really was was to just try again, either that or go insane. After all, you couldn’t talk with your companions forever. You’d run out of topics eventually.

Speaking of, where were they?

…Probably in the unfinished rooms section.

You sighed and walked to the left-most side of the room. You struggled with the door a little, but got it open eventually, and closed it behind you. The staircase was immediately encased in shadows. It was pitch-black.

It was kind of annoying in case there was anything you might accidentally step on and slip and fall and-

…Nevermind.

The railing was cold against your hand as you ascended the stairs, the occasional squeak of your hand sliding against the metal echoing through the shaft.

You pushed open the wooden door, nearly slipping, and it closed behind you with a loud thunk.

You squinted your eyes as you were immediately near blinded by the bright lights. Putting a hand in front of the direction of the light, you walked left again, turning around the “reception desk” littered with papers of all sorts. It would have had a hefty layer of dust on it if Tisha wasn’t so damn crazy about cleaning.

Your heart stopped.

“Hey Y/n! How’d it go?”

Your pupils shrunk.

“Y/n? You okay?”

Your breathing quickened.

“Hey, earth to Y/n!”

Your head pounded.

He tried to place a hand on your shoulder, but you jerked back. He stopped, confusion etched all over his face.

With shaky hands, you rushed away from the kitchen and knocked on the door to Poppy’s room.

Comeoncomeoncomeonopenrightnow!!

As soon as Poppy peeked open the door with a little “Hello? Who-” you squeezed yourself in and quickly shut the door behind you, shaking.

“Y/n?? Y/n what’s wrong?”

“Don’t let him in here. Please.”

Poppy’s eyes widened.

“Is there something wrong? Are you okay?”

You stayed silent. She let out a sigh, guiding you to sit on the bed and sitting beside you.

“What happened?”

Your face was pale and your expression cold and empty. You were the looking definition of hollow. It…honestly scared her a little.(Listening to Chaotic Bean Sim music “Day 5” while writing this LOLLL)

Poppy’s eyebrows furrowed, her expression one of nothing but concern.

“Twisteds…”

“Oh…” she sighed.

She raised her arms, holding them out to you.

“...Can I?”

You couldn’t speak, so you just nodded. And it was comforting. It was warm. It was everything you needed.

The tears began to drip, soaking into her pink dress, and after the first few, you couldn’t stop yourself from pouring out the rest.

Poppy had no idea what had happened, she had no idea what was currently tearing your mind and sanity apart. She had no idea who you were even talking about. But she stayed there. For you. Just for you.

[yourabsolutemother]

At Sundown Chapter 2

!!MDNI!!

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 3 here

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A/N: Sorry this took me so long, I got sick 😭 We’re going to ignore how I gave Ghost blue eyes last time. IT’S FINE. I hate this chapter, I'm so sorry pfft. Also sorry if it feels unnatural if I call Johnny ‘Soap’, I’m dyslexic and having John and Johnny makes it hard for me to follow. 

CW: Military inaccuracy, accent inaccuracy, possible lore inaccuracy, typical a/b/o sexism and classism, cursing, slightly suggestive, reader is referred to as they/them but is afab, but reader is referred to as a woman sometimes (I try my best to make it gender neutral but I’m not the brightest), everyone is kinda being unfaithful, ‘fat’ and ‘whore’ are used as insults at two separate points, slight mention of verbal and physical bullying, mention of current political events, tiny bit of angst, mention of drug use, mention of taking medicine for anxiety

Chapter overview: Jasmine makes it up to reader, and John makes it up to Soap. Soap becomes interested in reader and it makes John a little uncomfortable

WC: 10k

===

You are woken up the next morning by Jasmine jumping on your bed, making your bed rebound as she settles next to you with her hands reaching for you. You groan out and yank the blankets over your face, tightening your grip when you feel Jasmine trying to tug it down and away from your face. “Go ‘way..” You croak out, dragging out the sound on your words. You aren’t too keen on getting up so early when it is your only day off for the next few months. You start to relax back into the bed, the overwhelming urge to fall back asleep becoming too much for your tired and overworked body, when you feel Jasmine start to poke your temple. She’s being very persistent in waking you up and it only makes you want to scream in her face to get out. You might be a little dramatic in the mornings, just a little obviously. “Pup…” She whispers, waiting for you to answer while she traces shapes on your exposed shoulder. She watches as goosebumps cover your skin and you shiver at the feeling. She knows it’s your weakness, and it honestly isn’t helping to keep you awake. The repetitive motion of her finger is starting to lull you back to sleep. When you don’t stir, she starts to chant the nickname annoyingly.

“Pup. Pup… Pup… Hey Pup. Hey Pup, guess what? Pup.”

“Puuuuuuuup.” She groans loudly, flopping down practically on top of you.You shove her to the side before she makes contact with you, making her grunt as her face hits the bed unexpectedly. You sit up, groaning loudly and glaring at her through your sleepy annoyedness. Your blanket pools around your waist, fluffing as it catches air on its way down. “What do you want, Jasmine?” The sound of her full name on your lips made her wince on the inside, you only do that when you’re mad. She feels like she deserves it though, after how she treated you. You deserve to treat her in such a salty way. She reaches out and holds your hand, noticing how you don’t grip her hand like you normally do. It’s like she’s just holding your hand, instead of the two of you holding each other's. Because it is like that.  “I wanted to make it up to you for last night.” Her tone is very to the point, like she isn’t afraid to admit that she is in the wrong. That’s what you like about her, she isn’t stubborn and set in her way like you are. You thank her often for putting up with the things you put her through sometimes. She always reminds you that you treat her like that because you trust her and feel safe around her, so she’s glad to put up with it as long as you aren’t always acting that way.

You give her a curious look as she continues to speak, explaining her reasoning for waking you up so early on your day off. “It wasn’t fair that I made fun of you like that when you were upset.” She tells you, reaching to gently pull the blanket fully from your body, urging you to get out of bed so she can take you out. “I should’ve realized it wasn’t the right time.” She continues to tell you, her thumb brushing over your cheek in a maternal gesture. “I’m sorry, Pup,” She finishes, her voice carrying unwavering remorse. You can tell that she feels bad for the way that she treated you when you came home so stressed out last night. You needed someone to lean on and to comfort you, and she as a beta should’ve done a better job of doing so. She shouldn't have overlooked such an obvious cry for help.

You smile and sit up taller in bed, the blanket tangling around your feet leaving you arrayed in only your sports bra and shorts. Jasmine's eyes never falter from your face, her face lighting up when she notices your heightened happiness, seeing that her apologizing made you feel much better. To her, it feels like a small gesture, but to you it means the world. “I have a reservation at your favorite breakfast place. Let's go.” She explains to you, her eyes soft and appreciative. Your eyes light up at her words and you scoot to the edge of the bed, ready to partake in some free food.

You are quick to scurry out of bed at the sound of her words and quickly start to get dressed. “How did you even manage to do that?” You ask happily, your excited voice becoming muffled when you pull your shirt over your head. “It's so hard to get a reservation.” Your favorite breakfast place in your city also happened to be everyone else’s favorite too. It is constantly packed and they’re only open until 11. They only serve breakfast too which makes things so much worse. The food there is just so homely, tastes like something your mother used to make when you were stuck home, sick out of your mind. You miss your mom, but you try to stop thinking about her as you finish pulling on your clothes, now dressed in a white tank top and loose jeans.

Jasmine sits on the edge of your bed as you get dressed, her gaze staying upwards towards your face. She’s leaning back on her hands and her ankles are crossed lazily. “I have my ways.” She responds vaguely, and you know not to push any further. Sometimes she’s a very mysterious person, you learned very early on that if she doesn’t want to open up about something, she isn’t going to. It used to bother you, being used to people that you are close with talking about anything that is bothering them or talking about their day. But Jasmine hardly does. Since her job is centered around using her abilities as a beta to calm people down when the pressure is high, it seems silly to her to worry other people with her problems when she needs to be worrying about others.

You are giddy as you come out of the bathroom after brushing your teeth and deodorant. You grab your bag and throw it on, facing her with an excited energy practically bouncing off of you. Your orange scent is heavy and thick in your room. It makes breathing feel like it’s harder, almost like the air is concentrated. Jasmine smiles and stands up despite this, reaching her hand out for you to take which you excitedly do and follow her out of your room and downstairs. She is slightly taller than you, so you have to walk a bit faster when you are walking with her. She’s even walking at a slower pace as you are trying to keep up. It's happened one too many times that she gets distracted when in a crowded place and starts booking it, leaving you in the dust. You are used to seeing her worried face as she weaves back through the crowd to find you, cursing herself for leaving you vulnerable to nasty alphas and betas. Omegas can be awful sometimes too. She worries about you too much sometimes.

Your other beta roommate, whom you still don’t know the name of, is sitting at the island working on whatever he works on. He has his back to the two of you and doesn’t even acknowledge your presence, even as you get closer to the door. “We’re going out.” Jasmine speaks, her eyes scanning his figure. He just waves his hand dismissively and grunts, hunching over his work more intensely than before as if to say ‘go away, im busy’

You feel your heart drop the tiniest bit, hating it when people don’t seem to like you. You have gotten used to it at work, but you have a very solid wall between your work life and your everyday life, even if you hardly have days off. And with you and the beta being in such close quarters, you know this dreadful feeling will never go away unless he suddenly decides he likes you. “Come on, let's go.” You hear Jasmine say into your ear, her tone all-knowing.

You’ve known Jasmine for years, for as long as you can really remember, life with and without her blending together as the years pass. From what you can remember, you met her in kindergarten, you two didn’t share a class but you shared a recess and the occasional computer lab. Your mothers got tired of hearing the two of you begging for a playdate because you never got to spend any real time with each other, and set up weekly playdates until middle school when you had more classes together. From there your relationship flourished and you were friends all throughout school. The two of you went to different colleges and fell out of touch. Recently, you found out that she was looking for roommates and she let you stay with her for a lower rate than what she was originally asking. She had to give up her office and put her desk in her room so she could get another roommate to afford it, just so you could have less on your shoulders.

She did a lot of recreational drug use when she was in highschool, which you dabbled in but was never really fully into. She stopped smoking when she had to get a real job, since they do drug tests on her regularly. Her memory is a bit more foggy than yours because of how much time she spent high in school. burning her brain cells in the process you assume. She remembers it as, the two of you met in the third grade in the computer lab and she only asked her mom once before they allowed us to meet outside of school. The rest of the story matched up pretty well, surprisingly. There are a few things that she doesn’t remember. Like the six months in highschool when you two didn’t talk because she went through this whole ‘mean girl’ phase and decided you weren't good enough to be in her friend group. She quickly realized that the new ‘friends’ she made weren’t in it for the long haul and didn’t care a thing for her feelings. She came crawling back begging for forgiveness, which of course, you were happy to give. You had missed her the entire time.

She ushers you out of the house, shooting a glare back at your roommate, who doesn’t even notice the passive aggressive gesture, his face still buried in what you always assume to be paperwork. You take a deep breath of the fresh morning air and a small smile comes to your face. You haven’t been able to do much of anything recently because of how much you are working, it’s nice to be able to not think about anything work related. You don’t have to put in any tickets, you don’t have to deal with any angry alphas, or even any alphas that want something more from you. You don’t have to deal with the staff of the restaurant that despises you based on nothing but the fact that you are an omega. You are also excited to go out because you know going out with Jasmine means she is paying for everything that you are going to do today. You gave up a while ago trying to argue with her, she says her love language is acts of service. So buying your stuff makes her feel like she is showing her appreciation for you. You can’t complain too much, it makes you feel special.

Jasmine opens the passenger side door to her car and waits for you to fully get in before she closes it behind you, making her way to the other side of the car by going around the front. You put on your sunglasses as she circles around the car to the driver side, the dark tint eases the strain on your eyes from the harsh light coming from the morning sun. It’s just coming up above the horizon behind you. It’s glaring off the mirrors and anything around that is chrome. She gets in and starts the car, you are quick to connect the bluetooth to her car. Only after connecting do you take off your bag and buckle your seatbelt. Jasmine has been expanding her music taste recently and it's less than impressive. It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just not the vibe that you’re ever really looking for. You turn on the playlist title ‘Road trip/sing along’

Jasmine starts driving, with one hand on the steering wheel and her other arm resting on the center console. She once told you she always keeps her arm on the console so that she can reach over and ‘save you’ from getting hurt if something is going wrong. Like she can save you with an arm if the car starts flipping. Her fingers tap against the leather of her steering wheel as she drives towards the diner she’s taking you to. You can hardly sit still in your seat, happy to go after not going for so long.

The drive is around 45 minutes, since the diner is on the other side of the city and there is Saturday traffic. You sit with your legs crossed in the seat, watching things pass by the window. You get lost in thought as Jasmine drives, your mind wandering through memories and anxiously thinking about the bills you have to pay with your next paycheck. You are prescribed anxiety medicine by your doctor, a pretty high dose, but it still hardly helps. You’re just glad you don’t spend all night staying up worrying about literally everything. The medicine helps the insonia the most.

You are ripped out of your thoughts by a particularly hard break from Jasmine, Her fingers brushing against your arm for a moment. Your eyes snap to the road and see someone that had not seen a mail truck that is putting mail in a mailbox, due to a curve that hides it from our view as we come up. The car is able to change lanes and go around the mail truck, but there isn’t enough room for us as well so Jasmine presses on the brakes harder. Her hand presses against your shoulder, holding you back from going forward too far as she presses the brake pedal. Which is unnecessary since you're perfectly capable of doing it yourself. Sometimes she acts as though you are incompetent, but it makes it so you don’t have to do as much when you are around her, so you allow her to do it.

“I’m sorry, hun. That’s a really bad spot for a mailbox.” Jasmine apologizes with a slight laugh, glancing over at you with a slight grin on her face. You feel when she lets off of the brake and presses the gas, continuing down the road and getting in the other lane to overtake the mail truck. She only lets go of your shoulder once she is safely around the mail truck. “Did you know that if you hit a mail truck, unless they’re being really stupid, it's your fault?” You blurt out, watching the mail truck as you pass it. “It doesn’t help that mail truck drivers are like the worst drivers in existence.” You can’t remember where you learned the information, but you find it odd that they don’t teach it to new drivers. You turn your head and look at Jasmine, who is glancing at you with her eyebrows furrowed in faux judgment. “No wonder you’re unmated.” She mumbles, looking back at the road with a smirk and giggle.

You gasp and slap her arm, turning in your seat as your mouth falls open in shock. “Excuse me, ma’am!” You gasp, fighting back a laugh erupting from your throat. “That is so uncalled for!” You shriek, placing a hand over your heart, pretending as though she had hurt you. “And you’re one to talk. The last time you were even remotely close to finding one was in highschool.” You tell her, pointing a finger at her. She can’t stop giggling as she drives, trying to keep her eyes open so she can see the road. She is the only person you trust to make jokes like that about you. She’s helped you through countless breakdowns about the fact that you are unmated and too afraid alphas to mate with one, no matter how much your instincts crave it. You know that when she jokes about it, she doesn’t mean what she says because she's had to convince you of the opposite too many times for you to count.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When John wakes up and he’s in his room, cuddling with his pack while they sleep peacefully. His room is the master bedroom, it has two king size beds on the ground inside, pushed together so that they could all sleep in a cuddle pile comfortably. He’s laying closest to the right side of the bed with Gaz’s back pressed against his chest, their legs are tangled together. Soap is facing Gaz, his chin resting on Gaz’s head. Ghost is behind soap, closest to the left side with his face buried in the space between Soap's shoulder blades, snoring loudly. He lifts his hand from Gaz’s waist and brushes a stray hair from Soap’s mohawk away from his forehead, his thumb ghosting over the younger’s cheekbone softly. He places a kiss on the top of Gaz’s head, getting up and sitting just on the edge of the bed for a moment. He lets the memories of last night run through his head, how poorly he treated Soap when all he was trying to do was help. John sighed and stood up from the bed, pushing off of his knees with his hands.

He gets ready for the day as quietly as he can, trying to think of ways he could make it up to his beta. He could just wait for him to wake up and give him a verbal apology, but it doesn’t feel like enough for a beta that has to deal with two hormonal alphas. He pulled a shirt over his head and left the room, closing the door quietly behind himself before making his way downstairs. He walks to the kitchen and starts to make tea, planning on starting breakfast once it’s brewing. But a lightbulb goes off in his brain, finally knowing what else to do other than tell him how utterly sorry he is for being so rude. He quickly dumps the water from the kettle and books it back up the stairs, skipping every other step with quiet and practiced ease. The primal part of his brain loves the idea of taking care of his beta, pampering what’s his, showing him off. He slips back into his bedroom and hones in on Soap, who has now turned to face simon. Simon is on his back, one arm over his eyes while his other arm lays out beside him, Soap is using it as a pillow. Gaz has his front pressed against soaps back, his arms tucked into his chest as he curled around his bonded pack mate.

John kneels on the edge of the bed, just below Soap, and runs his hands up and down Soap’s calves. He does this for a little bit, paying special attention to spots where he feels knots in the muscles. The beta lets out breathy grunts in his sleep every time a knot slips from underneath John’s fingers, but still doesn’t seem to want to wake up, he just licks his lips and turns his head, continuing to let out pleased sounds from John’s massage. John huffs in annoyance at the shorter man's deep sleeping. He carefully places his hands next to Soap’s head, slotting between him and the two men either side of him. He leans over and brushes his lips over the shell of Soap’s ear. “Johnny..” He whispers out gently, placing kisses to the side of Soap’s face a bit firmly to wake him up. The larger man’s mustache tickles Soap’s face, making his lips twitch in his sleep.

Finally, Soap starts to wake up, his eyes fluttering open, being met with Simon's shoulder and John's arm. He lets out a hum and closes his eyes again, not wanting to get up quite yet. This makes John laugh quietly in his ear, leaning his weight onto the arm next to Simon and using his other hand to sort of lift Soaps head by his neck, supporting his mate's head with his fingers. “Ge' up, i’m taking you ou'.” John speaks, his voice hushed so the other two pack members won't hear him and wake up. Soap’s eyes immediately snap open at the mention of going out. He knows what that means. Food. He sits up in bed slowly, allowing John time to slide off and stand from the mattress. They both move carefully so as to not wake the alpha and the beta that are still asleep, watching as they squirm to find each other's warmth, making sure they find each other. Soap slides off the bed the rest of the way once Simon has Gaz in his arms and shoots a charming smile at Price. “Whit's the occasion?” He asks John, his head tilted to the side a bit in curiosity.

John takes a hold of his arm gently and guides him out of the room, leaving the sleeping pair to a peaceful and quiet bedroom. He slides his hand from the back of Soap's arm to interlace his fingers with the other man’s. “I wonted to make i' up to you for being such a cunt yesterday.” John explains, his voice now louder since they aren’t around sleeping people anymore. His voice is gruff and a bit crackly from sleep, it makes Soap shiver unnoticeably. “You’re a very good beta, don’' le' my behavior go to your head.” John continues, his voice now holding a hint of vulnerability, Soap knows he means what he says.

Soap leans against his side and smiles warmly up at him. “t’s ma job tae tak care o ye, e'en whan you’re havin an aff day.” Soap reminds his alpha, his thumb brushing over the back of John’s hand. John takes a deep breath and nods. “I’m glad you think so..” He admits, the breath he just took coming out, making his words sound all breathy. “It’s jus' tha' i feel like a good alpha, a real alpha, wouldn’' le' their emotions ge' in the woy of making sure their pack is happy..” He continues, his grip tightening on Soap's hand as they come up to Soap’s room, turning his head to fully look at Soap. The beta smiles reassuringly at John and places a gentle kiss to his lips briefly. “Ye are a guid alpha, John, don’t ye iver forget tha’.” His voice carries a very hard resolve, his eyes burning with a determination for John to really understand what he is saying. “youre allowit tae let gae sometimes, keepin things inside isnae guid. We're yer pack, we're here for ye na matter whit.” Soap tells him, poking the alpha in the ribs.

John can’t help but believe Soap, the look he is giving can convince John of anything. He can murder his entire family and pull this face and he will be an innocent man in John’s eyes. John's free hand comes up and cups Soap’s cheek, cradling his face in his hand as he leans in and kisses him lovingly. The taller man puts his heart and soul into the kiss, making sure Soap knows he loves him, and the rest of the pack, more than anything else in the world. He would give a limb for any one of them, easily. Soap lets go of John’s hand and rests his hands on John's ribs at his side, having to look up slightly to kiss him back with overwhelming emotion. John’s now free hand moves to grasp onto Soap’s hips while they share the intimate kiss. The rest of the world fades out as they kiss, holding each other close like they are afraid they’d be forced apart. Their lips clash and their teeth hit each other a few times, the pair not worrying about being polite about it.

Soap is the first to pull away, taking a deep breath through his nose as he rests his forehead against John’s. “Come in, I need clothes.” He mutters, sliding his hand down the alpha’s side before slipping off his body. John leans down and buries his face into Soap’s neck, taking a deep breath of Soap’s freshly cut grass scent. He lets out a little huff and sighs softly. Soap stands there, his hands once again finding his mate’s ribs. He holds on as John really takes his time to smell him, effectively scenting himself with Soap’s scent. “You smell so good. 'll never be able to ge' over it, I swear.” He mumbles, pulling away to look at Soap’s face. “Let’s go..” He continues, smiling as he reaches for the door handle.

Soap can feel his heart drop to his stomach and his throat starts to tighten up. He doesn’t know how John will react to the smell of an omega in his room. He prays that the omega next door, who is slowly catching his attention, isn’t in their room and their scent isn’t wafting through his room like it normally is when the omega is home. He doesn’t even notice the way he holds his breath as John opens the door and steps in. He tries to conceal his anxiety and steps in behind John, his hands going to hold onto the shirt he has on, tugging a bit on the fabric. Soap seems a little surprised when John doesn’t react to any smell, stepping in further so that he can smell better for himself. As Soap breathes in, he is relieved to smell that the omega is not in their room and his room was free of any smells as far as he could tell.

“Kinda smells like oranges in here.” John points out as he makes his way over to the bed that Soap hardly uses and sits down, leaning back on his hands while he looks at Soap. He wasn't looking at him like he wanta a reason as to why it smells so much like oranges, which makes Soap release the breath he forgot he was been holding. John continues to look at Soap while he racks his brain for things to tell his alpha. “Thare wis an omega at trainin last nicht thon wasn’t wearin scent blocker. Got aw ower me” Soap explains, remembering the lie that he told Simon last night. “Si haed tae scent me whan A came home last nicht” He tells John, connecting the lies to make it seem more believable if the two alphas are to ever talk about Soap smelling like oranges.

He feels bad having to lie to his alphas, but he doesn’t want them thinking that he is doing unfaithful things behind everyone’s back. The omega is infatuating, but that doesn't stop Soap from knowing that his place is with his pack. He isn’t so unhappy in the relationship that he needs to cheat to feel better about himself. He’s secure. The omega is just so interesting and engaging, that he can’t keep his mind off of them for more than a few hours. And knowing that they are only a few feet away at any moment when they’re both home makes his brain swim with intrigue

John just nods, completely unaware of the dishonesty coming from his beta mate. John shakes his head and scoffs a little bit. “Those new omegas need to have a talking to, they never follow the rules. There's a reason we wear scen' blockers.” John rants on about how disrespectful the new omega recruits are, a new wave of omegas that think they can change the societal rules that have been around for millenia. It is just safer the way they have it set up. Plus, if anything were to happen to them, not revealing they are an omega right off gives them a better chance of survival. The enemies they fought do appalling things to the omegas that are trapped in their claws.

Soap goes to his dresser and pulls out new underwear, socks, and two pairs of pants. He throws one pair of pants at John as he walks by to go to the closet. “Ye forgot pants, mate.” He laughs, opening the closet door to look for a shirt. Soap’s back is towards John as he fishes around in the hangers for a shirt he deems good enough. John stands up, Soap paying no mind to him since John still has to put the pants he gave him on. He jumps when John grabs his hips. “Wha' if I don'' won' to pu' pants on?” He asks, pulling Soap’s hips against his own. “Fuckin’ love yer scent, pup..” John grumbles against his neck. He pushes his nose right up against the scent gland in Soap’s neck, chuffing softly against the skin as his dick grows harder in the confines of his boxers. Soap chuckles and reaches behind him to swat John away from him. “Ye promisit me breakfast. Yer dick, unfortunately, will no be enough.” Soap tells John, finally pulling a shirt out of the closet. It is one of Simon’s old shirts that Soap stole from him, Soap doesn’t know that Simon knows he stole it, but lets him keep it.

John groans and immediately backs off when Soap tells him off, sliding Soap’s pants on. He has to suck in his stomach a little bit to button the pants, since John is bigger than Soap. Soap is tall for a beta, and so is Gaz, but John is still bigger. He doesn’t bother putting on a belt since the pants are sure to stay on his hips. He pulls his shirt over where his muscular hips muffin top out of the pants, much to Soap’s displeasure. “Givn’ me blue balls over ‘ere.” John mumbles as he sits back down on the bed, watching as Soap pulls his (Simon’s) shirt over his head. “Ye don' even care, do you?” John jokes, grabbing Soap once he’s done getting dressed. He pulls the beta to stand between his spread legs, resting his chin on Soap's muscular stomach and looking up at him with affected sadness. Soap laughs and threads his fingers through John's hair, looking down at him as he pulls a faux pity face. “Of course I do.” He says in a fake tone, pursing his lips slightly. “Poor poor alpha.” He continues to joke, cradling John's head in his arms. “Left high and dry.”

John huffs in amusement and pushes Soap away gently, glaring halfheartedly at him. “You suck.” He grumbles, standing up and shuffling to get past Soap. “Still smells like oranges in here. Did you ge' a candle or something? when are you even in here to burn it?” John questions, his head turning up slightly as he sniffs the air. He just stands there for a second, his eyes cast off to the side as he tries to figure out what the smell is. Luckily, you have been out of the room for long enough that while they could smell you, they couldn’t smell you. He shrugs and turns back to Soap, who is mentally panicking while he watches John. “Let's go, we gotta go. This place is apparently really popular.” John explains as he grabs his betas hand and leads him out of his room, down the stairs and to the car.

He keeps a protective hand on Soap's lower back as soon as they step outside, as if the two claim marks on either side of Soap's neck aren’t enough to show who he belongs to, who his alphas are. Soap is a large beta, a rare phenomenon that paired well with female alphas who might be a bit smaller, being mistaken constantly as a beta and taken advantage of. Soap finds it endearing how protective his two alphas are, but just a little bit unnecessary. He is perfectly capable of protecting himself and he would never leave his pack for some measly alpha. But that doesn’t stop John and Simon from protecting their two omegas like they are some tiny, helpless omegas. Not really, but that’s how Soap’s stubborn brain sees it. Soap sees it as them thinking that their beta’s can’t protect themselves or the pack, unlike the alphas who just see it as protecting their pack and making sure the strongest put up the most fight. Soap thinks it's better to make the load even between the roles, so the alphas don’t wear themselves out . Gaz is always the one who constantly hears the rants about how Simon and John treat them, having to calm Soap down and remind him about all the times that their alphas believed in his abilities on and off the field.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Jasmine finally make it to the restaurant, you clinging to her arm as the smell of alpha fills your nose. You try not to let the overwhelming fear of alphas get in the way of your day to day life, but sometimes it isn’t as easy as ignoring them. You keep your head tilted down so you don’t accidentally make eye contact with an alpha that might be in a bad mood. Jasmine leads you through the parking lot and towards the entrance of the restaurant, looping her arm with yours. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.” She mutters to you, reaching over with her other hand to caress the back of your hand. You are practically clawing the skin of her bicep, your nails leaving crescent indents in her skin. She winces slightly, but doesn’t move to stop you from doing it. She understands your fear of alphas, why you are always so uncomfortable around them. Luckily for you, she knows how to handle alphas that are angry, because of her line of work.

You don’t know what you’d do without her, she’s like your lifeline when you really need her. Well, except for last night. She’s usually really good about comforting you, it helps a lot that she’s a beta and she’s naturally good at it. You think back on all the times that Jasmine has helped you and used her skills as a beta to make sure you know your worth. You are the person you are today because of her and her comforting words. Your thoughts are cut short as you walk into the restaurant, your nose scrunching as you smell all the old people who don’t bother putting on scent blockers after so many years. You can’t really blame them, it’s hard to care about what other people think when you reach that age. Jasmine handles talking to the host and guides you through the busy restaurant, pulling you along as you keep your head down. You always find it really annoying when hosts walk too fast, having to keep up and hope you don’t lose them is not fun. You like to go extra slow when it's an older couple at your job. It’s so sad watching them fight through the crowd while they try to catch up to the host that's walking too fast.

This host places down your menus on the table and bids farewell to Jasmine, not bothering to glance at you as he walks away back to the host stand. Jasmine doesn’t respond, she knows the type of person he is, it’s not hard to catch once you really know what to look for. You can really tell their classist when they pretend an omega isn’t even there like what just happened, often referring to the beta or alpha nearest to them when they are taking orders to order for them. It really sucks when you don’t even know the person they ask, it sucks even more when the person they ask is classist too, ‘Oh yeah they’ll have a salad. No one wants a fat omega.’ is usually the bullshit that spews out of the mouth of a person like that.

You and Jasmine sit down, she is facing the door so she can keep an eye on it. You just sit in whatever seat feels right. It’s one of those square tables that never have enough room for two people, let alone four. You despise tables like this, sitting in these with two people when you want to sit next to each other is really something designers should think about, and what interior designers should think about when using them. The feeling of your stomach dropping when you see these is all too familiar. It makes it so much harder for you to feel safe when Jasmine can’t protect you well, not because she’s lacking, but because of the fucking table. Not desirable in the slightest.

The restaurant is busy, so it takes a really long time for your waitress to even get your drink order. You're still waiting for her to bring it back and it's been ten minutes since she left. Her name tag had a ‘new employee’ sticker on it, so you give her a slack, as if you don’t give every waiter slack. This job sucks. You know how hard it is to be on your own for your first few rushes, especially when it's this busy. Her entire section is full and it looks like she has at least two eight parties. They really need to get a manager to step in, it's simply too much for a new hire to handle. You see her whisk by with a tray full of drinks, that don’t seem to be yours, and it looks like she just spent five minutes in the freezer crying. You can feel your heart clench in your chest. “Jas, can we tip really big..?” You ask your friend, turning your head slightly to the side to look at Jasmine. She has her thumb partially in her mouth, nibbling at the skin around her cuticle while she scrolls through her phone. “Hmm?” Jasmine asks,  tilting her head up to look at you, but her eyes stay on her phone.

You kinda scoff and push her phone so it falls towards her. “You’re supposed to be making it up to me for being mean last night.” You tell her pointedly, pursing your lips while crossing your arms over your chest. “Not ignoring me.” You continue, the cheeky look still on your face. Jasmine’s face kinda falls as she catches her phone before she sits up straight and tosses her hair behind her shoulder, interlacing her fingers on the table in front of her. Her phone now sat face down on the table. “Well, I’m sorry, Madame. How may I make it up to such a noble omega such as yourself?” She asks, purposely over exaggerating her words. This makes you scoff, kicking her slightly under the table. “Oh shut it.” You scold, furrowing your eyebrows at her. She smiles and reaches down to rub the sharp stinging in her shin. “Okay, okay, I’ll pay attention.” She gives in, holding her hands up in surrender.

You spend the next five minutes talking about life and how things are going in your respective workplaces, you end up talking about your new roommate. And while you’re talking about him, you realize how little you’ve actually talked to him. Actually thinking about it, you come to find that you have only said ‘hello’. It kinda rubbed you in the wrong way, maybe you had done something wrong. Were you too loud one night while you were crying? Or while you were… entertaining yourself? You hope not, the last thing you want is a roommate who doesn’t like you, it sounds like a life of misery. The waitress sets down your drinks in front of you, her hands slightly flailing in front of her while she rants on about why she took so long getting your drinks. Jasmine politely interrupts her by placing a hand on her forearm and smiling softly. “You don’t have to worry about rushing to get our stuff, we totally understand.” She tells the waitress, pulling her hand back to rest it on the table.

You can see the panic slide off her face for a moment while she rushes out a meek ‘thank you’ before rushing off to serve her more needy customers, her face contorting back to a look of dread. Jasmine sighs as she watches the girl weave through the crowd, getting lost in the sea of customers and waitresses alike. “Yeah.., we can tip extra.” Jasmine mutters, answering your question from before that you swore she hadn’t heard. Jasmine’s eyes linger a bit longer than they should as she watches the waitress rush through the crowd and disappear. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and you put it in a folder in your brain to poke at her with later.

A smile bursts across your face as you hear the beta’s words, feeling the warmth of doing something good spread through you. This feeling makes all the bad feelings of being out and about disappear, it’s like you were never scared in the first place. You know that will all change as soon as you look up and see an alpha sitting not even ten feet from you, so you’ll save yourself the trouble and not look up. You always try to make people feel as though there's at least one person out there that understands what they’re going through or at least sympathizes with them. You know what it’s like to walk a road where no one is there to walk with you. How it feels to think that no one thinks that you can do things right. Jasmine is your person, you hope you are someone's person. You and Jasmine are the waitresses at this moment.

You ramble on to Jasmine for a few minutes while drinking your Shirley temple, talking about weirdly deep things that you probably shouldn’t be talking about in the middle of the busy restaurant. But who cares, it's very unlikely you’ll see any of these people ever again. And if you did, they won't remember you or how you talked about your childhood trauma in the middle of a breakfast rush. You feel that familiar tug in your bladder and you wince, knowing you’ll have to get up and make it to the bathroom by yourself. Usually, you are able to ask Jasmine to come with you. But, with how busy the restaurant is, you don’t trust to leave your stuff here unattended and come back to it untouched. So, you are forced to grow a pair and do it yourself.

You take a deep breath and mumble to Jasmine where you are going, a simple nod as she puts her phone down, that she had picked back up at one point, to give her attention to you. She wants to make sure that you make it at least to the hallway where the bathrooms were safely. She watches as you stand up and walk towards the bathroom, your hands clenched into fists and a determined look on your face as you glide through the crowd like it’s water. Thanks to being a waitress, you are able to get through crowds like it was no problem. You know when to take your chances and when taking your chance will lead to failure. It’s a pretty easy pattern to recognize once you’ve seen it a million times. You’re good at reading people, watching their mannerism like a hawk to spot hints as to what their next move is going to be. It’s necessary for your safety back in your original pack, where you were constantly teased and bullied. Turns out, it doesn’t matter if your father was a high ranking alpha in a multi-family pack, they still bully and beat the omegas. 

You're so busy swimming through the crowd that you don’t even notice another pair of eyes on you. Soap is watching you through the crowd as the host leads him and John to their table, which was in a corner. Your table is positioned in the middle, a little further away from theirs. The host smiles and pulls their chairs out before rushing back to the host stand, where there is a line of people starting to refill the lobby. It’s one of many, and definitely not the last wave. Soap lets out a little huff of air when he looks back towards where you just were after getting in his seat. He had almost gotten a good look at you. He noticed Jasmine’s car in the parking lot, when they coincidentally parked next to it. He’d recognized the parking tag that was required to be put on the rearview mirrors of residents of your neighborhood, since it was a gated community. 

John watches Soap as he scans the area near the bathroom, completely unaware he saw you, or that you are even here. John doesn’t really know who you are. He's aware of your existence, nothing more than that. He also isn’t aware of Soap’s interest in this new omega, how he craves to get to know her. It’s not like Soap is dying to get his hands on you, or that he wanted to hold you like he holds his mate. It’s just that you seem so elusive and mysterious he couldn’t help but be interested in you. He wants to know what your face looks like, he wants to know what your strong scent smells like up close. He just wants to know everything about you, learn how you work, what makes you tick. He wants to make sure that your packmates are treating you right.

 “Are you okay? Did you see something?” John asks, one hand reaching for the menu while his other reaches to hold Soap’s hand after a long period of silence. Soap just nods slowly and looks at John, blinking before he flashes his charming smile and saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Aye, some prick wis wearin a maga hat.” It is unfortunately completely believable, and John even buys it. He rolls his eyes and takes his hat off his head, placing it on the table furthest away from them. “Welcome to America.” He states with a grimace behind his tone, shaking his head as he reads the menu.

“Why i the hell did command send us here o aw places? they coud've pickit london an A'd be happier.” Soap complains, leaning back in his chair as his eyes go back to the hallway you disappeared into. If a Scot would rather be in Britain then somewhere else, it's a very heavy insult “If I knew, I would be having some very strong words with whoever made the decision. I mean, who sends three brits and a sco' to america for leave?” John complains back, not taking his eyes of the menu as he scans for something that sounds decent. Soap doesn’t hear John's response and John knows that “Can ye no like put i a request? A mean, canae ye use yer rank tae make someone move us ower the pond?” Soap questions mindlessly, knowing full well that there is absolutely nothing that John can do to make their situation any better. They are lucky they get a place as nice as they did.

“fuckers don'' even have a nice english breakfas'.” John groans, closing the menu quickly. He gives up on trying to find something to eat for right now, it’s clear from the line out the door that they wouldn’t get their order taken in a while. He scans the room for a moment before his eyes land on Soap, whose face has dropped slightly and a slightly shocked look crosses his face. John’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as he follows Soap’s gaze to the hallway, where he sees you, a younger looking woman, walking out, your eyes making a path to what he can only assume is your table, standing in the entrance of the hallway. He notices the way your chest heaves slightly before you step out and book it to your table. The both of them lose you in the crowd, Soap is left with his gaze wandering, trying to scope you out in the crowded restaurant. “Who was tha’?” John asks, his eyes returning to Soap’s shocked face. He doesn’t answer, too caught up thinking about the way your hair frames your face, how your eyes seem so soft despite how panicked you seem. His beta instincts are reeling at the thought of someone he knows is an omega being in distress. But, it is a saturday morning and he knows you have a pack, the two betas. He knows someone has your back, hopes someone does.

“Earth to Soap.” John calls out gently, waving his hand in front of his face to get his attention. “Who was tha’?” He asks again, watching as Soap blinks and looks over to him. “Ah it's nothing, cap'n. Juist people watchin. Thoucht A saw someone A knew.” Soap told John, starting to feel horrible about all the lies he has been telling his alphas recently. He knows when they find out about it, because they will, he’s gonna be neck deep in trouble. He sees the way John’s eyes squint in disbelief, scanning the beta’s face for a sign that he is lying. After not seeing one, he nods and reopens the menu, continuing to search for something to eat in this hellhole with no traditional english. “Something is on your mind, beta. What's wrong?” John questions after a moment of silence, picking his breakfast choice before he closes the menu. “Is it because of last night?” He asks, his eyes holding a look of vulnerability as he looks at his mate.

Soap seems confused for a second before he breaks out in a laugh, that’s probably too loud for the space they are in. John sees a few people turn their heads and glare at the smaller man. “Why would I be thinking so hard about last night?” Soap asks, rubbing his thumb on the back of John’s hand comfortingly. It’s obviously bothering him since he’s brought it up twice already this morning already. “Ye didn’t dae anythin wrong. Ye have been a little snippy, but it's nothin we can’t handle.” Soap reassures him, smiling at John while he watches the battle behind his eyes. John lets out a sigh and his head dips slightly. “It’s jus' that, i stood up so quickly las' nigh' in my office, though' i knocked you over..” John breathes out, his tone remorseful. “And then i didn' even stop to make sure you were okay..” John continues, his grip tightening on Soap’s hand like he’ll suddenly get mad and pull it away. “juist stop thinkin aboot it, John. A'm okay. Ye're makin it up tae me now, thon's whit matters richt now. Aye?” It helps to calm John’s nerves for now, replaying Soap’s words in his mind whenever he feels insecure about it again.

The whole meal, John catches Soap looking past him and at you. He’s confused and a little offended. He took time out of his day to take out his beta, who he treated wrongly the night before. And here he is, distracted from the conversation, from his alpha, to look at some random woman in the diner that John had to fight for a table at. He doesn’t want to say anything to Soap, not wanting to point fingers and accuse him of something that might be purely innocent. Maybe they reminded Soap of his childhood friend, or maybe it actually was his childhood friend. But it doesn’t stop John from getting grumpy. By the time they are both completely finished, John’s face is hardened, trying to hold back from twisting his face in annoyance. He slaps a forty dollar bill on the table and motions for Soap to go first through the crowd.

Soap notices the difference in John’s behavior as they get up and make their way to the exit, noticing how John doesn’t grip the back of his neck when they go through a particularly thick portion of a crowd. He doesn’t hear the quiet growl that comes from John when he turns to search for that woman one last time through the crowd before they walk out the door. The beta frowns a bit at the lack of John’s closeness, but chooses not to say anything. John’s job is very stressful as their captain, and even when they are on partial leave, his desk is covered in paperwork, all the ones that didn’t really have deadlines, but still needed to be signed. He practically lives in his office all year around.

When they get back into John’s car, Soap immediately starts to project his calming scent for John, trying to ease the off putting emotions that whatever is bothering him is causing. He can hear John taking deep breaths of this scent as he pulls out of the parking lot, obviously not wanting to feel the way he is. Once he is safely on the road, he reaches over and places a hand on Soap’s mid thigh, kneading the muscles as he tries to calm himself. “Thank you, beta.” John’s voice speaks, sounding deeper and strained, like he is trying not to snap. 

And John is doing just that. He doesn’t like the way Soap hardly looked at him the whole time, giving his attention to someone other than his mate. It makes his blood boil knowing that someone else has caught the attention of his beta. His beta. John doesn’t want to be so possessively mad, but it is his nature. Protection and control has been drilled into his brain from a young age. But he doesn’t want to be one of those alphas that doesn’t allow their pack members to be free and do what they please. So he chokes back his ego and gives his pack mates the support they need. But he can’t help but feel like he isn’t giving them the support they deserve, no matter how many times they reassure him otherwise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Jasmine finally make it home after a long morning and afternoon out, carrying bags of leftover food from lunch and from all the stores the two of you visited while out. You love it when Jasmine treats you to a day like this. They aren’t too often because you always feel a little bad that she spends so much money on you during the course of only a few hours. You almost always end up with a new wardrobe worth of new clothing, mostly ‘new’ from the thrift stores. The thrift stores are the only ones you shop at because you always find good things and it's cheap enough that you can afford a few new items every few months.

You giggle at the joke Jasmine cracks as you set the bags down on the kitchen island, having to push a few random objects out of the way with the bottoms of the bags before you set them down. “You know you didn’t have to buy me all this.” You point out, which makes Jasmine groan and throw her head back in faux annoyance. “How many times do I have to tell you? I make enough money that I don’t have to worry about having a spending spree every once and a while.” She reminds you, her hand covering your mouth when you start to argue with her. “And I do not mind at all if sometimes I spend it on you. I can survive for a few more months without something new.” She tells you firmly, her eyes looking into yours like she is trying to drill her words into your thick skull.

You roll your eyes but nod anyway, simply wanting her to let go of your mouth. You’d get the last word somehow. She finally lets go of your mouth and opens the two bags of leftovers on the island. “Go on upstairs and I’ll come look at your new clothes and help you put them away, yeah?” Jasmine instructs gently while she takes one of many boxes from the bag and transfers it to the fridge. You waste no time picking up the rest of the bags and going upstairs to get all of them out.

You’re putting the last few items on your bed, laid out so Jasmine could pick which one she wants to see first when she finally comes in. This is your routine when you get new clothes. You lay them all out and she picks which ones she wants to see. She always wants to see all of them, liking the way your face lights up when you show her your new favorite shirt or socks. It doesn’t matter how little you get either, she wants to see it on you before you put it through the wash. It’s purely because you love the attention you get from doing it, basking in being someone's main focus.

The whole time that the two of you are doing this, you never hear your roommate. He is such a quiet person that the two of you have both thought you are alone in the house at one point, just to come downstairs in nothing but a t-shirt to see him sitting at the island doing god knows what. It’s lucky that he doesn’t ever give the two of you the time of day, so he never sees when you come prancing down the stairs half naked.

You spend the rest of the night giggling and talking about random things with Jasmine, slapping her arm and gasping in shock when she asks risque questions like ‘If you liked alphas, would you be a breeder?’ leaving you reeling in laughter, cause it just sounds so out of character for you. She has a tendency to forget about filtering her words, sometimes throwing out the most insane thoughts and phrases as soon as they pop into her mind. It has resulted in a few arguments in your years being friends with her, but other time you realized she doesn’t really mean any harm by her words.

You end the night with cuddles in your bed with your large stuffed animal. It is the last thing that your mother gave you before your pack kicked you out. It is the only thing that you have that reminds you of the once loving relationship you had with the woman that birthed you. You miss her. You miss your family. But you don’t miss the rest of your multi-family pack. The boys there used to tease you so much when you were growing up, and when you got older it turned into fighting over you. One gruesome fight was all it took for the pack leader to kick you out ‘in favor of peace and balance’. You thought your father and mother would’ve fought for you to stay, but they saw you as promiscuous and didn’t want a whore omega for a daughter to ruin their public image within the pack. They were the ones that really pushed for the pack leader to kick you out.

You fall asleep that night thinking about them, about your old life. Wondering how different your life would’ve been in the universe hadn’t been so cruel to you. You wonder if it will always be so cruel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list:

@horny-bish

@wizzdot

@ella-rose45

Let me know if you would like to be added :)

[waywardsou2]

SPOILERS FOR BRAVE NEW WORLD

Who's bright idea was it to make Bucky a congressman?

Please tell me who? Because I have a set of knuckles with their name on it

Now I haven't cross referenced this event with the comics so I will be speaking from a purely cinematic position.

But again who fucking through that Bucky would become a fucking congressman.

Now Thunderbolts isn't out yet so we don't know his motives or if it's his choice at all but I have answers for both scenarios.

1. If it is his choice

The person who decided that Bucky should be a congressman clearly didn't take into account Bucky's vigilante nature.

He spent all of Falcon and the Winter Soldier sticking his middle finger in the face of every government official he saw.

He hated the state for giving John the shield and planned to steal it on multiple occassions and ended up stealing it.

All throughout FATWS Bucky was doing lots of self destructive things and at the same time trying to attone for all the mistakes he had made as a winter soldier. A lot of actions he took would not have been approved by the government. But guess what? Bucky didn't give two shits.

He beat the shit out of the new Captain America and more or less spat on his name.

He was still treated like a criminal even with his pardon and as far as we know the state still doesn't trust him given his history despite all the good he has done in recent years.

That's just the present stuff. If we look into the past Bucky went to war for a country that didn't even bother to save him when they knew exactly where he was.

Sure it would have been a dangerous op, but if Steve could rescue an entire battalion on his own I think a decent chunk of that military base could have done something. He was not important enough to be saved. That much was clear.

(this is delving a bit into comic lore) but Bucky is Jewish and not only that but he's the biggest fucking activist you would ever see in his time. For his best friend who was constantly sickly and wanted nothing more than to fight for a country that wasn't really fighting for him.

Bucky spent years of the run after the collapse of SHIELD in DC being hunted like a wild animal whenever he was spotted by the local government of whatever country he was attempting to hide in.

The government is not on his fucking side and I don't see a lot of reasons why he would be.

2. If he isn't doing this again his will

Already this argument doesn't feel really stable because other than having his pardon revoked there isn't really anything anyone could hold over his head. That we know of

But also who would benefit for having Bucky in the government. Even as just a secretary. Why him? If he was chosen, why him?

I can't think of a reason someone else. Let alone why Valentina would want him. I know she was recruiting people but why Bucky. Why make him a congressman. He's got just as much blood on his hands than any of the other Thunderbolts. Yelena and Alexi probably aren't American citizens so there's that. Hardly anyone knows what Ghost or Taskmaster have done. And for a while Bucky was convicted of an immense amount of crimes. So why him?

None of it makes sense to me. I need to check the comic lore but I honestly cannot fathom why he would be a government official let alone a fucking congressman.

Some of this stuff probably touches on head canon territory but it just feels so wrong to me. Please tell me I'm not the only one?

Either way I hate it and I'm fucking mad

Edit: I can in fact confirm that Bucky being a congressman is a new thing. What the fuck Marvel?

Edit pt 2: Another point I forgot to add is the fact that yes, we do and have had crazier people than Bucky Barnes in high positions *cough* TRUMP *cough*. I love Bucky, so damn much but seriously that man killed JFK, he is a war criminal and technically a traitor to the nation. There is no logical or legal way that he could be in any position in government.

[the-fox-in-the-socks]

The Mai Akasaki Mystery Flower - Solved?

feat. a mini-dissection of Mai's name

Hi! I have seen a few people here guessing what the flower on Mai’s tattoo is (mostly camellias iirc)… and I think I have the answer!

I think it’s Ochna integerrima, which is also known as the yellow Mai flower. (Hoa mai vàng is it’s Vietnamese name). Yes, the answer may be that simple: the Mai flower is literally the Mai flower. It seems to match her tattoo and is a very similar shade to her eyes.

(Note: I found most of this information in February last year when I just searched ‘mai flower’ on google and saw the results and was like ‘huh?’ and went down a rabbit hole from there lol.)

The flower has great significance to the Vietnamese Lunar New year, or Tết, short for Tết Nguyên Đán. They are used to decorate homes and are in full bloom during Tết, which is around late January to early or mid-February and lasts for around 7-10 days, which also lines up with Mai’s birthday (February 1st).

(please correct me if I am wrong, I got this information from Google and I am not Vietnamese and have never celebrated this holiday myself!)

There is a legend associated with the flower as well, which I believe might help explain what happened to Mai Akasaki.

https://botanicgardens.uw.edu/about/blog/2022/01/31/lunar-new-years-and-the-legend-of-the-mai-flower/

The following is copy-pasted from the above website:

"The Mai flower is named after a heroine in Vietnamese lore. Mai, a young warrior set off with her father to slay a giant serpent which had been terrorising their village. Mai’s mother gave her a bright yellow áo dài (traditional Vietnamese dress) to wear when she returned, so her mother could see her coming. Sadly, Mai ended up sacrificing her life to save her father from the serpent. Impressed by her heroic feats, the Gods made her a saint and granted her the ability to return home to her parents during the Lunar New Year celebration. After her parents passed, Mai transformed into a tree in front of her family home which blossomed with yellow flowers every year. Over time, the villagers would collect branches from this tree and decorate their homes for Lunar New Year."

And here are two other websites I looked at when researching this story:

https://scootersaigontour.com/legend-of-yellow-apricot-blossom-and-peach-blossom-on-vietnamese-new-year/

https://heritagevietnamairlines.com/en/the-tale-of-the-yellow-mai-flowers/

This leads me to believe that Mai sacrificed herself trying to protect the cast from a large threat, perhaps the mastermind/MonoTV, or sacrificed herself during the HPA operation that @1moreff-creator mentions in their post Everything We Know About Mai Akasaki + So Many Theories – @1moreff-creator on Tumblr. (this post is basically the Mai bible, please check it out!)

Additionally, MonoTV’s Mai-related secret quote “It’s all your fault”, and the second anniversary code with the same message, and some of the other Mai secret quotes talking about her in past tense imply that she has already passed, and that the cast is the reason why, which could mean she sacrificed herself for them... so I don't think she is the mastermind!

Her surname can also potentially provide us with clues.

“aka” means red, the same colour as her hair

“sa” means bloom or blossom, a reference to her flower tattoo

“ki” means hope, and why that is important is pretty self-explanatory if you've seen anything Danganronpa related

and "saki" means blossom of hope

(These are all Japanese meanings. I just used google for these translations, I do not know Japanese).

This means that her sharing the same name as this flower is likely not just a coincidence, but a deliberate choice by DRDTdev.

Submitted Surnames with "red" in Meaning - Behind the Name

Tenma Saki | Project SEKAI Wiki | Fandom

(yes I just cited the project sekai wiki as a source in my drdt theory, I don't know how I got here either)

The only problems with this theory that her flower is a Mai flower (that I know of) is probably the Literature Girl Insane flowers and the flowers in the bonus episodes being different colours. For the LGI flowers they may just be different flowers altogether that are there to symbolise something else, or a different aspect of Mai... I'm not sure. And the bonus episode flowers could just be coloured differently for aesthetic purposes.

tl;dr The flower on Mai's tattoo may actually be called 'Mai', it suggests she sacrificed herself and probably isn't the mastermind and her surname reinforces the idea that her name choice is not a coincidence.

This is my first tumblr post so apologies in advance if anything about the formatting is weird! Also critisism is appreciated, I would love to hear your thoughts on this :D

[smaller-comfort]

For the blorbo ask: Let's go with Resh'an and ohhh, give me your thoughts on Sephiroth. As for which questions: 1, 6, 7, 13, 14, and 24.

1. who’s the Blorbo that you’ve never posted about on your blog?

I'm trying to think if there's any secret deep lore blorbo to unlock here, but I do periodically froth at the mouth about the Imperial Radch and Locked Tomb characters that I love. There's the Active Blorbo Roster and then there's all the characters sittin' on the bench in reserve, right?

And there are a lot of those- all the part 5 JJBA kids, Shanks from One Piece, Hakkai from Saiyuki, Mustadio FFTactics.

6. if you could talk to your Blorbo, what would you say to them?

I used to do a lot of 'interview the character' writing exercises when I was younger, but it's not really something that jives with my brain these days. So the boring answer is, I wouldn't say anything. I'm a bad conversationalist.

The *funny* answer- okay, so you remember the era of geocities websites with goofy "under construction" gifs and entire pages dedicated to script-style interactions between the site owner and their favorite characters, right. I had one of those. It was where I posted my multichaptered mary sue self insert oc/Sephiroth fanfic. I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called- no, wait, fuck, the title was "To Shed a Tear" holy shit I wish I hadn't remembered that-the oc was Rufus' sister and a member of the Turks, and look, it was 1998, I had to teach myself html somehow-

Uh. Anyway. So, ultimately, I would probably be apologizing to Sephiroth for all of that, and then maybe just asking for a swift death or something, idk.

I'd have nothing to say to Resh'an because in the ARG he's explicitly stated that he doesn't want to talk about his personal life with the rest of us, and I would attempt tobrespect that boundary. (Really, most of what I might say would probably get me banned from the Sabotage discord.) (I'd probably have to apologize to him for all the fanfic, too. *cough*)

7. what’s the one thing the fandom gets wrong about your Blorbo?

Sephiroth was not involved in some kind of well adjusted five person SOLDIER polycule pileup before the Nibelheim incident. That man has never looked at another human being and experienced a sexual thought in his *life*.

(This does not prevent him from walking Zack on a leash when the occasion calls for it, but like. That's just being a responsible friend. Sometimes Angeal is busy.)

I'm open to a lot of different interpretations of Resh'an right now- the fandom is so small, I'll take whatever I can get and be happy about it, honestly. I'm sure there are people who think *I'm* the one getting him wrong, though, and on some level this idea pleases me in the blackened, contrarian corners of my soul. Sorry, I've taken your mysterious mentor character with a tragic past and turned him into a sopping wet rag with erectile dysfunction. (I'm not that sorry.) (technically it's not ED it's anorgasmia *is shot*)

13. is there any crime, any wrongdoing your Blorbo could commit that would make you stop loving them and remove them from your hyperfixation entirely?

me, sitting on the front porch, sipping a shitty cocktail while watching Meteor about to obliterate the solar system: ...nah.

This kind of gets into like...Doylist/Watsonian characterization, right? The character is just going to do what they're written to do. So is there anything Square Enix could do to make Sephiroth stop being my blorbo? I guess they already did Crisis Core so like...It really doesn't get much worse than that. (I say this, but I haven't finished Rebirth! I am only vaguely aware of the major plot divergence stuff.)

All that said...Squeenix can't take the OG away from me. I'm stuck with the general background radiation of the Compilation, but the things that made me love the game, and the experience of playing it as a child, are always going to be mine. My particular take on Sephiroth exists largely independent of canon and the current fandom at this point.

For Resh'an- let him war criminal even harder! XD

Really, though, I'm steeling myself for inevitable disappointment around his canon backstory and the ultimate resolution of the story. This is not meant to be any shade on Thierry Boulanger's storytelling skills- but being part of the fandom for an ongoing story is always a unique experience, and it tends to leave you with complicated feelings towards the actual conclusion of the story, no matter how good it ends up being.

But if he and Aephorul turn out to be stereotypical anime rivals pre-immortality, I will be *extremely* annoyed (I say, as I write them constantly bickering and antagonizing each other). But I don't think that would even be a deal breaker for me at this point.

14. have you ever distanced yourself from your Blorbo / have you ever left a fandom because people in the fandom were being too toxic?

Maybe back when I was more active in fandom in general? My memory is too fucky to answer this properly, I think; I know there absolutely were people in AC fandom who made me want to eat paint, but I don't think they were why I left. Most of the time when I leave a fandom, it's because I get bored or lose interest or fall into a depression hole for half a decade. (The depression hole is what makes this hard to answer. From 2018-2023 I wasn't on tumblr or fannish twitter and I wasn't really reading fanfic or "doing fandom" at all.)

I've left/avoided certain fandoms because of non-fandom interpersonal blow ups with specific people- I've had several friend groups explode messily over the years, and avoiding some of those people meant avoiding fandoms we used to share. (FFVII was briefly, tangentially one of those for me back in 2009.)

Now, I'm more likely to distance myself from a fandom if I find it annoying, honestly. I spent like ten minutes in the In Stars and Time tag and very quickly determined that it was Not For Me, and that's totally fine! It's a perfectly lively fandom, it's just not my thing. Same with Baldur's Gate and Arcane (and to a lesser extent TLT); I just get the curated content from my lovely mutuals, and if there's anything else going on, I pretend I do not see it.

24 if you could change one canonical thing about your Blorbo, what would it be?

Lemme just- *slam dunks Genesis Rhapsodos into the trash* And look! Nothing of value was lost. Nothing changes in the story that needed to be changed. The tragedy still unfolds, and it's 50% less idiotic! Angeal can stay. He's fine.

Maybe they've fixed the idiocy in Rebirth. I doubt it, though. Sephiroth's appeal initially comes partly from him being a bit of a blank slate- the players get a very limited window into who he is and what his whole deal is, and that vast *potential* is where some of the best (most unhinged) fanworks develop. The OG is very deliberate about how it treats Sephiroth as a villain- he's literally the shark from Jaws, hovering under the narrative. Twenty five years later he's one of the most recognizable video game villains in the world, so I understand *why* Remake went a different direction. But it's still a little disappointing. Sometimes leaving things vague and mysterious is good, actually!

Anyway, other than setting Genesis on fire- I don't know. Put him in one of those slutty turtlenecks with the boob window. It's what we deserve. (The serious answer- sort of- make him 2000% more body horror about the Jenova cells. Give him tentacles to go with the fucking angel wings.)

As for Resh'an- we've got three more games to go. He's sitting firmly in that sweet spot of unhinged potential; we don't know enough about his backstory yet for me to want it changed. So, really, the only change I'd make at this juncture would probably be to give the Great Eagle more tail feathers. It just *bothers* me, okay. Why are there only three.

[mydearestbeloved]

Note: this scenario idea may be ooc. also does jinwoo even attach his shadow to her like with others? at least during the first days they became acquainted? If so, does she even feel their presence? My bad if I’m being lore inaccurate here.

Jinwoo and tp!reader argued for whatever reasons. Jinwoo regretted it but tp!reader who hadn’t calmed down deciding to “block” his shadows from seeing her (kinda like solar eclipse), even “flashbang” them, and in return jinwoo (took him a bit to recover), when he tries to sneakily force his way in and peek and causes her to be in creative mode.

Truly one to assert dominance over jinwoo is to show that you have the right to privacy bc that stuff is non-existent when you’re this guy’s loved one or in his radar.

(the solar ecslipse thing is me being inspired by the fact that tp!reader has golden aura thing, like the sun, while jinwoo is white blue, like the moon)

It's not ooc at all, Anon! The circumstances are just different—I'll explain in a bit.

Unfortunately, since this ask is related to a future chapter in the main story (there will be a scene similar to this), I’m afraid I can’t go into much detail scene-wise. 🙏

In the Trial Player AU timeline, the two became acquainted really early on after Jinwoo had his Job Change Quest, meaning he had just acquired his job-specific skills of <Shadow Extraction> and <Shadow Preservation>. If I remember correctly, Jinwoo was only able to attach his soldiers to other people and ‘see' through their shared senses after he gained <Shadow Exchange>—which happened after the second trip to the Demon Castle. I don’t remember the exact chapter in the manhwa, but I recall a panel where he started sending his shadows to guard his neighborhood, so I’m guessing it was around that time.

Dear novel and/or manhwa readers, please correct me if I’m wrong and enlighten me if I’ve missed any details—I’d really appreciate the help, considering I’m still a bit confused about some parts even after rereading the manhwa. 🙏

The timeline in Trial Player AU is left a bit vague, but I certainly extended it longer than canon to fit my narrative.

Again, please correct me if I’m wrong, but from what I understand, the events of Solo Leveling, from the start (the D-Rank Dungeon Arc) to the end of Jinwoo’s fight with Antares before the timeline reset, all happened within roughly three years, right?

If that’s the case, then yes, Trial Player AU will be longer. It’s implied that TP!Reader and Jinwoo have already worked together for over a month while Jinwoo’s deal with Jinho (clearing a total of twenty raids) is still ongoing. TP!Reader started accompanying them during the last few raids after Jinwoo introduced her to Jinho. Before that, she and Jinwoo had already spent time clearing new gates that the System provided (around normal or lower C-rank dungeons)—something that didn’t happen in canon, as already noted by TP!Reader in the story.

Hence, at the point where Jinwoo receives the <Shadow Exchange> skill in Trial Player AU, he and TP!Reader are no longer newly acquainted.

So, to answer your question, Anon: No, Jinwoo didn’t attach his shadows to TP!Reader because he hadn’t gained the skill when they became acquainted early on. As for what happens after he does—well, that will be revealed in future chapters.

However! I can say that TP!Reader does have the power to send back the shadows Jinwoo attaches to a person. The details are still not fully fleshed out, but it won’t affect the story much once I release the chapter—adding to the mystery, if you will. But for those interested in behind-the-scenes mechanics, I’ll still be sure to answer as best I can.

The “flashbang” theory you mentioned could potentially work, though! Say a spell that emits light from multiple angles could reduce or even eliminate shadows visibly. Since shadows exist because light comes from a specific direction, a spell like this could interfere with them.

But I’m not sure if this can be done every time without essentially flooding the target and the space around them with light. Then again, in a world where magic exists, something like flashbanging only the shadow (and not the person) could be possible to offset this limitation.

If the soldiers reside in a person’s shadow as if it were a pocket dimension, the spell would just need to flood that small space with light, outwardly diminishing the shadow without affecting the person by concept. Visibly 'blocking' each side from seeing eachother.

Not sure about the aftermath, though. If it’s a momentary effect, we could think of it as a pocket dimension that was always there, just temporarily cut off as long as the spell was maintained. It would need to follow the movements of the person since shadows can reappear, change shape and position. So, this momentary effect would work if a person’s shadow was a single, interconnected entity.

There’s also the possibility of a permanent effect. If flashbanging the pocket dimension made of darkness actually destroyed it, then the person’s shadow might cease to exist entirely instead of just being temporarily cut off. If shadows were interconnected, then no matter how the person moves, they won’t have a shadow at all. If not, then moving would create a new shadow, meaning TP!Reader could only prevent Jinwoo and his soldiers from peeking if the affected person remained completely still—which, for a living being, is nearly impossible unless they’re dead.

Wow, I just went on a wild tangent analyzing a what-if mechanic. 😅

I hope you still enjoy this what-if concept of mine based on your idea, even though it’s not in the usual scenario format (which I assume you wanted), Anon. Since the related scene will appear in the story, I can only offer this discussion for now. For others reading this: this is just me theorizing based on Anon’s take. The “flashbang” mechanic is not canon to Trial Player AU—have the potential to be, because Anon is giving me great ideas—but as of now, it isn’t.

Now, onto the last topic: the solar eclipse—sun and moon idea.

Again, great take, Anon! I’ll add a few thoughts of my own that can be be related to the topic:

It's interesting because in this, TP!Reader is mentioned with Jinwoo.

So far, she and Jinwoo fit the opposite trope—sun and moon, light and darkness, life and death, etc.—when they are contrasted.

In reality, what I'm aiming for is that TP!Reader doesn’t exist as his opposite—she just balances him out.

Try seeing TP!Reader alone, two of the most notable aspects of her abilities are:

Her healing can harm.

She can bring life (e.g. butterflies) and take it (e.g. the use of lifeforce).

The sun can burn, which fits TP!Reader. But at the same time, the sun started scorching you when you get too close. TP!Reader is approachable, so liking her to the moon also fits.

When elements that contradict exist as one instead of simply coexisting, what does that create?

TP!Reader exist when there is equilibrium. Tip off the scale and she's gone.

What do you see when she is with Jinwoo? What do you see when she is with someone else, Cha Hae-in for example?

She naturally spends the most time with Jinwoo, so their contrast is more pronounced, which is deliberate. I want to show 'balance' through it, I want to cement the fact that TP!Reader isn’t inherently the 'light' to Jinwoo’s 'darkness'—but she can become one.

We'll explore more on this too once TP!Reader started interacting with other characters in the future chapters. 🥰

Welp, I think that’s all I can say this time.

Thank you for showing interest in my works and for sharing your ideas, dear Reader. 💕

[delirious-donna]

Sweet As A Grape [Part Three]

“No,” he answered, guessing your question. “Whilst the thrill of the hunt can be exhilarating, fear alters the taste and I prefer my blood on the sweet side.”

story summary: Levi isn’t hungry, or so that’s what he claims. A vampire must drink to survive, and his sire refuses to let the man give up without trying every trick up his sleeve. When a new ‘donor’ appears, one who is different from all the rest, will Levi be able to keep resisting?

pairing: Levi Ackerman (vampire) x female reader (human)

warnings: we're starting to cook with a little gas in this chapter, it stays mostly SFW with heavy NSFW implied, reader ends the chapter up close and very personal with Mr Ackerman, mentions of suicide (vampire), a very brief allusion to the argument regarding a person's right to choose to die (the two prev tags are heavy but these are not discussed in depth at this point in the story - this is a future heads up), mention of parental loss, lots of chat regarding blood drinking and the methods used, teasing of fear play, vampire lore

Part Two | Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Part Four

Levi appeared more composed than the last time you saw him.

His dark hair was slicked back, and he clasped his hands behind his back whilst staring out the window displaying the majesty of the sprawling gardens below. For a moment, you admired his posture; spine straight and proud, chest slightly forward and his feet spread in what reminded you of a very militaristic stance.

He really was a handsome man, even when a scowl wrinkled his features and hardened those mesmerising grey eyes. A stiff white dress shirt was tucked into neat black trousers. With the top two buttons undone and no tie in sight, the outfit gave him the appearance of a businessman who had not long clocked off for the day.

It made you wonder what it might be like to have known him in a more traditional sense. Perhaps having met him in a bar frequented by office workers and finding the nerve to strike up a conversation after many weeks of admiring him from a safe distance. You gave a small shake of your head at how absurd the idea was. For how little you knew of Levi, socialising in loud overpopulated bars did not seem something he would have ever enjoyed.

“Something wrong?” Levi asked, tilting his head towards where you stood by the door. He gave you a look that made you feel like he already knew what you were thinking, and it only further cemented how right your train of thought was.

With a flush rushing across your cheeks, you moved further inside and glanced around. “No, of course not. What makes you say that?”

“Your heart rate spiked.”

“Oh… well, it’s hard to argue with a human lie detector,” you quipped back.

“Am I?”

You frowned in puzzlement. “Are you what?”

Levi finally turned fully to face you, his eyes followed your every step and focused on how your fingertips trailed the soft leather of the oxblood couch. “Am I human?”

“… I suppose the answer is both yes and no,” you mused, biting your lip at the weighty question. An ethical tête-à-tête was not what you had assumed would be on the agenda for this evening, but Levi had surprised you at every turn up ‘til now that to expect the unsuspected was becoming the norm.

“Unless I have my facts entirely wrong, all vampires were human once so I would still believe you to be human to a certain degree. Although I know it would be pretty dumb of me to think of you as only that. The world has been led to believe that being turned doesn’t change a person’s inherent personality, but I guess that could be lies told to soothe the nerves of us, mere humans.”

His lips twitched, a smile almost rising before he schooled his features back to neutrality. You still took it as a small victory.

“Interesting,” he replied mildly. His hand stretched out, perfectly pale with raised blue veins leading to knuckles that appeared rougher than you anticipated. It gave the allusion of someone who had used his fists a lot in his life, and again, you wondered about this man and who he really was. “Shall we sit?”

Erwin had insisted that the arranged date—although Levi was not keen on the term—would take place under his roof, another fact that grated at Levi’s nerves. The reasoning was sound given what had happened in the brief time you had spent with the man so far, and whilst he had wished to refuse the circumstances foisted on him, it made more sense for this to be a concession he conceded to.

The billiards room had become more of a gentleman’s clubroom over the last several decades, far more accustomed to informal meetings and underhanded deals than simple games of snooker. A plush leather couch centred the room with two matching armchairs positioned at either end. The actual billiards table was more towards the far away side of the room, handily near the well-stocked liquor cabinet and expensive cigar humidor, the latter leaving the remnants of tobacco lingering in the air and soaked into the walls.

If he concentrated long enough, Levi could perfectly recall moments spent in here with Erwin and Miche, sometimes Nile and Hange too. Better times… he thought, or at least times when no one was at each other’s throats, not like now.

Seated in the middle of the oxblood couch, you crossed one ankle over the other and waited to see where Levi would choose to sit. There was ample space on either side of you, which is why you had chosen the middle. You didn’t want to trap yourself in a corner so to speak, but in the end, it didn’t matter.

Levi sat in the armchair to your right. His thighs spread wide, and he smoothed a hand down the leg of his trousers as if there were some imaginary wrinkles in what you assumed to be expensive fabric. “Would you like a drink?”

You glanced at the crystal decanter set out on the table in front of you, ironically or not, it seemed three-quarters full of red wine and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was Erwin’s idea of humour.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Levi gave a throaty chuckle that made you think of a standoffish feline finally coming close enough to rub against your leg. “I can assure you it is wine. Feeding blood to a human wouldn’t be wise, especially when everyone seems keen for you to be a match for me.”

“Right. It wouldn’t be much fun if I was to ruin this beautiful carpet by being sick. I’ll stick with the water, keep a clear head and all that.”

Levi inclined his head and stood to pour you a tall glass of iced water. He placed it on a coaster, and you chewed your lip, deciding if you would ask or not. The question weighed heavily on your shoulders, his comment only increasing the worry that was bearing down hard. There seemed to be this almost palpable air of desperation for this union to work… union felt like the wrong word but every time you considered it only transactional also felt wrong—even more so.

“Why is everyone so keen, and by everyone, I mean Mr Smith? He’s quite the character… I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like him.”

“You’re aware that I haven’t been drinking. There are a lot of reasons for that, and I wouldn’t want to bore you with the details,” he supplied after more than a second or two of silence. He had zero desire to lay out nearly half a century’s worth of infighting that led him to his current decision and even less desire to discuss his sire. There were other things he wasn’t going to tell you, but those memories remained locked away in the recesses of his mind—dark and full of cobweb-covered skeletons.

“I guess, in a nutshell, I’ve decided I don’t want to continue my existence. I’ve spent long enough wandering this earth and it’s time that I become a part of the soil instead.”

You blinked.

You blinked again.

Surely, you hadn’t heard him right. How could this man who appeared so alive despite his status as undead suddenly be snuffed out of existence? A lump lodged fast in your throat as past discussions and memories started to rush out faster than you could shut them down. This was effectively vampire suicide, and the old arguments about a person’s right to die resurfaced, the scars on your soul not yet healed.

“Hm. I didn’t take you for the selfish type,” you remarked, forcing your hand not to shake as you reached out for your glass of water. The icy liquid slid awkwardly down your throat, barely touching the burning itch.

“The… excuse me?”

“You heard me perfectly, isn’t that one of the traits that vampires boast about? I heard you could hear a pin drop in the next city if you tried.”

Levi visibly bristled. “Oh ho, and that’s all we are to you I suppose. A handful of parlour tricks in human form. Would you like to see me turn into a bat or walk on the ceiling next?”

“Selfish and touchy, noted,” you added, crossing and recrossing your legs whilst irritation prickled at your spine. It was stupid to let this colour your opinion of him, but knowing what you did, it was hard to set aside your experiences and more so your prejudices.

“Why is my decision regarding my existence selfish? In fact, forget it.” Levi threw his back into the armchair, seething at your childish reaction and not realising the irony of his own behaviour. “Even in terms of my mortal years, I’m older than you are. You’re young, you’re naïve, you’re—”

“Furious that I’m sitting here being insulted,” you interrupted with a derisive huff. “Why did you even ask to see me again when you so obviously aren’t interested in my blood or any blood for that matter?”

The song that had risen in volume and pitch from the moment he sensed you descending from the guest quarters upstairs was now a deafening war cry that spoke of retribution. The most beautiful, frenzied bloodbath of fury and might. He didn’t have to love you, nor did he have to like you, but he could not deny his attraction to the life force that flowed hot and fast through your veins. He was interested alright, very interested.

Long hours of the previous night had been spent pouring over textbooks in search of answers and all he had found was vampiric fairytales at best. The myth of a vampire meeting his blood singer and finding comfort from them in a way that was impossible from any other living or immortal creature. There was no mystical bond to speak of, no binding vow of love or even compassion. For some reason that had brought relief to Levi, although when he scratched the surface, he knew it was his inherent dislike of having events dictated to him at the root.

Fate was for the weak and Levi had never been weak.

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to be starving whilst a five-course meal sits so close?” He asked slowly, calmly, although he felt far from it. “My insides are burning with the desire to pull you from that fucking couch and drape you over my lap whilst I feast from your neck… shit… maybe your breasts.”

He watched intently whilst you wriggled in your seat, shuffling surreptitiously to the side away from him like that would help in the slightest. The heat that radiated from your skin intensified, blood just below the surface and its sweet citrusy scent mingled with something heavier… oh.

Levi smiled, careful to show the sharp points of his canines which had not fully dropped from his gums but were still capable of inflicting enormous damage. You were aroused. There was a fire in you, and he liked that. He could kick himself for that very fact, but here he was, taking you in leisurely just to see you squirm.

“I-I don’t understand you,” you admitted, despising how breathy and subservient you sounded.

At every turn, he had snarled and lashed out like a cornered predator. He was an enigma, and this was not the job you thought it would be, had hoped it would be. You didn’t know your next move—whether you should cut your losses now and tap out for good or if there was even a chance at salvaging whatever kind of relationship this was becoming.

“No one does,” he said with a sad smile, “not even I do at times.”

“Is this how it normally goes or am I fucking this up?”

Levi ran a hand through his hair and sat forward, his elbows braced on his knees and his fingers steepled. “So, I was right when I said you were a vir—new to this.”

You nodded, cautious given how his smile had turned brighter.

“No. This is not how any kind of vampire – donor exchange usually goes. There are several options and it’s down to the participants, but I doubt many butt heads like we seem to. Do you want me to explain further? I would have thought this was something you knew coming into this gig.”

“I know that there are those that prefer to keep it purely transactional… they open your vein and drink until you ask them to stop, or they feel your heart slow. Some like to know their donor personally; likes, dislikes, career aspirations, taste in food, music etc.”

Levi listened whilst you spoke like you were running a seminar for new donors. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn you had memorised a recruitment pamphlet. His gaze wandered leisurely from your face down to the modest dress you had chosen to wear. The hem reached below your knee, very conservative, but he knew if you were to straddle his waist as he imagined, it would be forced to ride up and expose your thighs.

His tongue wet his lips and he wondered how long it had been since he had last spent time between someone’s thighs, whether it be to drink blood or the nectar of arousal… too long. He could compel you, but he didn’t want to. It was prohibited for any vampire to use mind tricks; most humans weren’t aware it was even possible, though the media and fiction speculated it was and the ones pulling the strings from the top wanted to keep it as purely speculation.

Levi knew that Erwin wouldn’t care, the means to an end rarely mattered and when that end would be to see Levi return to his side, it was even more reason to look the other way. Your mind was strong, of that he was certain, and there was likely no chance of invading through your mental defences without your suspicions rising.

However, above all else he wanted you to choose.

“Blah blah blah. Yes yes. And some like to enact their primal desires and have their little human donor run for their life through the woods,” Levi interjected with a cunning smile.

The colour drained from your face. You had heard of that, though it was supposed to be extremely rare and one of the most highly paid positions given the dangerous nature.

“Is that…?”

“No,” he answered, guessing your question. “Whilst the thrill of the hunt can be exhilarating, fear alters the taste and I prefer my blood on the sweet side.”

Thoughts of dashing through a thickly wooded forest in a white gauzy gown whilst Levi chased you down like a starved beast tumbled through your head. The fear he spoke of melted into something else, confusing and forbidden, but not unpleasant. You took a long gulp of the water, throat working fast but you reached the bottom of the glass all too quickly.

Levi canted his head. “I could… make an exception.” Two fingers rubbed across the width of his lips, thinking.

His body was reacting to the implications swirling in his mind and yours, not that he was reading your thoughts. Not that he needed to when they were so obviously written across your face and expressed in your not-so-subtle body language. Your hips swivelled in his direction, and your breathing became laboured which in turn forced your breasts to heave upward against the hold of your dress’s sweetheart neckline.

You were temptation wrapped in velvet. Temptation wrapped in velvet and only inches away.

He desperately needed to change the subject and regain the control that was slipping with every second that passed where you weren’t sitting on his lap as he wanted. His fingertips tightened into the leather of the armchair, the buttery soft material groaning from the exertion.

“Why did you choose to pursue this line of work? It’s not for the fainthearted,” he asked slowly, carefully choosing his words and tone to at least give the impression of calm control.

The unpredictable nature of this conversation was throwing you for a loop. You straightened, trying to compose yourself and articulate an answer that was honest but did not give away more than you intended. You had your reasons, and there were many, but some were more personal than others.

“Financial stability. I want to provide a retirement that my dad deserves and give me the breathing space to pursue dreams that might not be lucrative but will make me happy. Plus, I’ve always wondered what it might be like… y’know, to be bitten. I’ve heard it only hurts if the vampire wants it to hurt.”

You were holding back, but he could understand that. He wasn’t telling you everything so why should you?

“Retirement fund for just your father? What about your mother?”

A familiar stab of pain assaulted your heart, your smile faltering. “She died. Six years ago. It’s just me and Dad now, and I want him to give up his work so he can see out the rest of his years in peace after everything he went through.”

“My condolences,” Levi offered, inclining his head and choosing to move away from the subject. “We can prevent it from hurting—the bite, I mean. There are different ways to achieve the same effect, and like the act itself, we have our preferred methods.”

“And yours would be?” Sweat coated your palms despite the ambient temperature. Finally, you were getting somewhere.

“How about I demonstrate? Not that I am going to bite you right now, to be clear,” he quickly elaborated when your heart rate nearly shot through the roof.

Levi stretched out a hand, waiting to see if you would place yours within it. The decision only took half a second of thought. Your curiosity far outweighed the possible repercussions. One minute you were sat apart and the next you were blinking into eyes of swirling mercurial grey.

His hand anchored at your hip, fingertips squeezing with a firmness that told of his desire to keep you right there. Your dress was forced upward to accommodate the width of his posture, for a slighter-built man he had a way of imposing his presence regardless of actual size. Tentatively, your fingers brushed his shoulder and he glanced at your arm before meeting your eyes once more.

You had expected him to feel cool to the touch, but the truth couldn’t be further from that. Heat invaded your face at the proximity, a shyness brought your eyes down into a flutter of lashes and shallow breaths.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Levi murmured.

Why you believed him unconditionally wasn’t apparent, but your slow nod came anyway as you gave in to your instincts. Exploratory fingertips traced across the now exposed skin of your thigh. You could feel the rough whorls of his prints in each sweep, callouses scratching pleasantly against the smoothness of your skin. A fire kindled low in your belly, a desire to fuel it further by leaning in and learning the subtle undertones of the cologne or soap he preferred barely held at bay.

“Can I… touch you too?”

 “You already are. I would have stopped you if I wasn’t okay with it,” he assured.

“Mhm, okay.”

The words were more for your own reassurance than his. Without further thought, you brought your other hand to his hair and ran your fingers through the slicked-back length. Levi let his head fall back at the action, eyes falling low-lidded and his hips shifting beneath you. The blunt edges of your nails caught against his scalp as you worked them through and brought the front strands forward to frame his forehead.

“Better,” you mused quietly with a smile. “I like your hair loose.”

“That so? I’ll remember that.” Levi fought the urge to purr at the affection he had gone so long without. Your touch was cautious but attentive, it made him thicken behind his trousers until the bite of the restricting fabric was near unbearable.

He was barely resisting from burying his nose into the crook of your neck, already he could see the glisten of sweat decorate your décolleté and images of chasing a droplet with his tongue consumed his thoughts. The melody of your blood was different now that you were closer, more intimate. It weaved a song of desire around Levi and tightened the threads already surrounding his heart. This was meant to be a demonstration of how to make the experience of giving blood pleasurable, but somehow the reason you were sat here became obscured behind a yearning so intense it twisted his gut into knots.

“Is it always this intimate?” You asked and the question broke the spell enough that he could blink through the fog that had descended.

Levi shook his head and then thought better of it. “It can be. Not always. I prefer my partner to be aroused enough that they aren’t thinking about what I’m taking. Instead, they focus on what I’m giving them.”

“Giving…? Oh. T-That’s interesting. Uhm—do you have sex with your partners?”

“It has happened on occasion. Most of the time I feed them enough of the feelings associated with sexual pleasure that the physical act isn’t needed, nor do I usually want to take it that far. I could have demonstrated all of this without you leaving your seat,” he admitted without knowing why.

That made you pause. If he had the power to do that then why bother? Why have you this close and why let you touch him freely in return? Your brow furrowed only to be smoothed by his thumb stroking the crease between your eyes.

“I was curious if this intensity would continue or if the spell you’ve managed to weave would break if I could just get my hands on you,” he supplied without question.

You swallowed thickly, stubbornly ignoring the throbbing pulse between your legs. “And has it?”

His hand slid along your jaw and rounded to the back of your neck. The grip forced your mouth into an oval of surprise, damn near panting until he shook his head and pulled you in.

The moment his lips met yours, your world shifted on its axis and became engulfed in blue fire. It felt both right and wrong to step across this line so easily, so carelessly. You marvelled at how soft his kiss was, tentative and inquisitive all at once as he led you deeper down the rabbit hole.

Your hips dropped you closer to his pelvis, his hand tangled in your hair, one exploring your waist and the curve that led to the swell of your breasts. His touch set every inch of you alight, and you dared to push your tongue inside his mouth when he exhaled a sigh. You explored his teeth' sharp length, knowing that one false move would see your blood spill freely onto his awaiting tongue.

That was what broke him.

Levi grasped at your arms and tore his mouth from yours with a guttural gasp. His chest heaved from the fight that raged within. His gums tingled as his canines extended in preparation for a meal, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wanted to. Every fibre of his being screamed for him to draw your neck taut and let his bite push you over the edge of euphoria. He knew that you would sound so fucking sweet, the sounds you elicited were already playing on repeat in his head and they would only be all the sweeter if he could get you naked beneath him.

“Not like this… it’s not fair.”

“Levi—if it helps, I want this.”

He shook his head with a bark of laughter. You didn’t know what you were saying, anyone would think the same but then again, he wasn’t using any compulsion over you. He hadn’t even tried to pierce the veil of your mind, so, maybe you did want this?

“You are going to be the death of me,” Levi admitted, letting his forehead rest against yours.

Swallowing his pride, he couldn’t let you leave without knowing you wouldn’t look for someone else within Erwin’s syndicate to offer your companionship to. He listened to the siren call a few seconds longer before leaning back and taking your chin between his fingers.

“Will you be mine?”

[obbystars]

Cosmic Prison

Synopsis: Everyone has nightmares, and everyone must one day confront them. Some, however, never emerge through the other side.

Notes: ODYSSEY Shieda Kayn x GN!Reader / Reader is dead in current time / Kayn’s perspective (NOT written in first person btw) / not a happy ending / mostly a trial and error kind of thing, I did what I can based on what was already provided before Rhaast’s involvement / Kayn is possibly OOC, I apologize in advance / Stairway to Heaven inspired / I kept calling Rhaast they and them in this and ngl, i think its kinda banger / probably got some lore stuff wrong, oops

( I love Odyssey Kayn so much guys. I reread The Lure for any universe relates stuff like Kayn’s interface. this fic’s plot is a concept I’ve been thinking about for a while and I thought it’d be pretty cool! hopefully you guys like it too )

How long has he been trapped here? Or rather, lost? He couldn’t keep track of it anymore, not even his interface’s chronometer could tell time anymore. Speaking of, he couldn’t even contact anyone from the empire. Something in this area is preventing it, but what that was, he still wasn’t sure.

He’s not even sure how he got here, not even the relic in his hands knew. Although… the relic was trembling, and they had only brushed it off when questioned by the Ordinal. Even he knew they were uneasy, and that alone was odd. He never would’ve guessed the Voice of Ora would tremble in a place like this.

Your thoughts have become clouded in dread and grief.

Their voice echoed in his head. He would never outright admit such feelings, but the Voice of Ora was right. Something about this place was forcing unwanted memories to resurface. Something else in his head forcing him to relive an event that had happened quite some time ago.

Kayn brought up a hand to his head as he slowed down and staggered slightly. This place felt like it was draining him. Had he truly fallen into some sort of trap? That’s unlike him. What trap was this?

Your mind is fading.

Was it? Is he simply losing consciousness?

“What are you talking about?”

Your feeble mind cannot withstand the force of this realm.

Realm.

“Now is not the time to be speaking in riddles, Rhaast. Answer me this. You know something about this place. What is all of this? Why are we here? How are we here?”

The Voice of Ora remains silent for a moment.

A being beyond your comprehension has cast THEIR gaze onto you.

“Is this another one of your tests?”

No. It is in our best interest to leave this place.

They are holding out on him. He knows it, but he may not be in the best state to argue.

Tell me. Who is this person? They seem to hold a significance to you.

“Ordinal, may I ask something that is complete nonsense?”

He faintly laughed, “Speak,”

“Do you think in another world, our lives would be so much more simpler?”

“That is complete nonsense, commander,”

They smiled, not taking their eyes off the countless stars, “Perhaps there is another us in another universe. I wonder what kind of lives we’d be living,”

The Ordinal’s gaze shifts to the stars as well. In another universe…

“Hopefully something better than this,”

The two laughed. It’s no secret to either of them that they’re tired, though for different reasons. He can see how tired they are, however. They don’t need to tell him.

“I like to think we’d still be friends in those other worlds,” they admit. Their smile seems softer now.

“Anything else you also like to think?” He questions further, not knowing why himself.

They blink and turn to him, clearly a little surprised to hear him ask. There was a brief silence between them as they turned back towards the stars.

The smile he, at that very moment realized he liked to see, had returned, “That the stars twinkle like thousands of little fireflies,”

“Fireflies?”

“Tiny flying insects, Ordinal. Their bodies illuminate once every few seconds,” they explain to him, “Truth be told, they aren’t much,”

They sighed. He knew that’s all they could say about these fireflies, but he finds himself intrigued as to why they took interest in something as small and insignificant like fireflies. Perhaps it is merely because these insects reminded them of the stars they so loved to look at.

“Do you wonder what the empire’s home world was like?”

It was a question that was always in the back of his mind. Whatever destroyed the Demaxian homeworld happened way before either of them were born. Now, they’re somewhat scattered but the main base resides in the Locus Armada.

Kayn sighs, “It’s useless to wonder such things, Commander. Besides, neither of us were hoping to live that “normal life” anyway,”

They only hummed in response. That’s how he knows that they know he’s right. Ever since they were young, that’s what they worked towards. Although, if he recalls correctly, they never exactly expected themself to become a commander.

It suits them, he thinks.

“Kayn,” their voice cuts through his thoughts, “About the report I had recently submitted,”

The professional tone was there, but the use of his name rather than his title like they had always addressed him as had put him on edge. They had always confided in each other behind closed doors, and this was no different. So, he would listen to what they had to tell him. Both as an Ordinal and their friend.

Commander [Name] [Last Name] of the Sovereign. Hm, quite the reputation they had. A skilled imperial soldier, cunning and precise.

Kayn didn’t respond to that comment. They were correct, after all. They were well respected among the ranks. A strong commander of a powerful ship, and a close friend of his. They had known each other for quite a while, much longer than he had known the current emperor.

Fireflies…

That discussion along with the report was one of the last times they both got to just simply talk and enjoy each other’s company despite the busy schedules both had. He would’ve smiled at the memory, but it only served as a reminder of the last time he saw them.

“The Sovereign and its crew no longer exists,” Kayn then says. Perhaps the Voice of Ora could detect him almost choking on his words.

Oh? Then tell me, do you remember what happened?

He could only recall what he could barely hear and see that day. It was the same day he had lost his arm. He had lost all control of his body, far too weak to move due to the blood loss. His interface was giving numerous warnings of his current condition as if it wasn’t already obvious enough.

They remained with him, whether by duty or genuine care. It didn’t matter to him. As long as he didn’t fully lose consciousness, it was enough so long as their backup arrives. He was only lucky to have survived due to the enhancements an Ordinal would require. Even then, he was hanging on by a thread.

The reinforcements had arrived, but much later than one might prefer. He hears their muffled voice shout out orders, and he can only assume they had prioritized his safety as he awoke in the infirmary. He awoke 37 system hours later, as he was told.

When he was steady enough and his new arm had been implemented, Captain Vassur had reported what she could. The cause was unknown and any audio or video footage they managed to pull from the Sovereign didn’t hold any answers.

As for the Sovereign and its crew… all who was aboard the Sovereign at the time of attack was found, identified, and their statuses confirmed. Everyone except them. [Name] [Last name] was not among them. Any and all attempts at contacting or locating them had failed. Their signal was gone like they had completed vanished.

It was easy to assume they were gone, but strangely, he didn’t want to believe that. A part of him wanted to think that there was the smallest chance they were still alive somehow. They could simply be hiding and getting rid of anything that could potentially lead whatever it was to them, or even endanger the Locus Armada itself.

It was brief, but he had focused majority of his efforts to finding them. Countless system hours of digging, trying to find something that could hint towards their location. He almost became obsessed with trying to find them had Captain Vassur not taken notice of it. She managed to convince him to stop, though just barely. Even in other assignments that required his attention, he’d be looking for any sort of clue no matter how small it could be.

Maybe he was already obsessed.

Clinging to feeble hopes and a commander long lost. Why is it you choose to think they are still alive?

He can’t answer that question. He isn’t sure of it himself. Why? Why does he cling to the idea that they’re still alive when they, by all accounts, should be dead? Was it cause there was no body that was found? Perhaps, but even so, the question still remains. Why?

Kayn brushes the question off, “What does asking me these questions have to do with us getting out of here?”

All a means to make sure you do not lose yourself. This is not a test. This place is not what it seems.

“Clearly… seeing as you haven’t stopped shaking these past few minutes,”

Or hours.

“Whatever,”

Your people don’t seem to be so fond of the commander now. Despite their best efforts, why do the others see them as “reckless” and “inconsiderate”?

Kayn scoffed as the scythe continued with the questions rather than shutting up.

Surely they couldn’t have been that much of a failure in your ranks.

No. They weren’t. They very much deserved their title as commander. It was because of that event. That was why their reputation plummeted in an instant. One small mistake that had led to one of the emperor’s Ordinals into critical condition. That was enough to shatter their reputation.

Many were careful at handling situations whenever an Ordinal was involved, much like Captain Vassur. Any small anomaly in anything is to be considered a danger. That’s why they too had reported to him about a strange sighting in the ship’s detection system. Both the commander and Captain Vassur. Even then, it was already too late for them to investigate what it was. That strange sighting was what destroyed the Sovereign.

They were discussing what it could be and the course of action to take, trying to figure out if it’s possible it’s a vessel from the criminal Syndicate. A very big one at that. It was his word they would follow, and before he could even give it, the Sovereign violently shook to the point it knocked everyone off their feet in one direction and then immediately in another.

A threat that came out of no where. Mm, I doubt anything anyone would’ve said could clear their name.

Kayn wouldn’t know. He never said anything of it anyway. Let them believe what they want to believe, he’d say. They’re all fools anyway.

He sighs, forcing himself to continue forward. Each room he came across was different. From empty straight hallways, to large spaces, to eerily familiar rooms. Was this place connected to his memories somehow?

He opens yet another door leading into a dimly lit hallways. The door shuts behind him as he takes a few steps forward until he hears a small snap seemingly beneath him. Once he moved off, his interface immediately scanned it and brought up a profile. His eyes widened. Their profile. This was their bio-tag. Is this where they’ve been trapped in all this time?

The scythe in his hand begins to tremble once more.

“Rhaast, you’re trembling again,”

And I will tell you again. It is nothing.

Do you really believe they have survived that event?

The information displayed in his interface showed they were deceased, but that was “official” information. It was never quite confirmed as a body was never found. That’s how their profile looked before he found himself here anyway.

Kayn looks back at the bio-tag and picks it up. At that very moment, it was almost like that obsession had reawakened. He could continue searching through this strange space until he confirms their status. Dead, alive, wounded, critical, it didn’t matter. He needed to see them. He needed to see them with his own eyes. Just once.

But how much longer?

He finds himself staring at the stars more often.

Fireflies… Tiny insects whose bodies illuminate every few seconds.

Little lights that seemed comparable to the star systems thousands upon thousands of light years away. And perhaps… Another universe where another him exists. How strange would that be? Would they still be friends in that other world? Would they disappear all the same? Would nothing have been different in the end?

Hopefully not…

And somewhere out there, the destroyed home world of the Demaxian Empire. Was it nothing but space rubble at that point, or was the land simply uninhabitable? There was no clear answer, shockingly enough. The answers were always a strange mix of both. Others say some other worldly entity had destroyed it, but “other worldly” is a broad term.

He sighs. They’ve gotten into his head even after many cycles had already gone by. Even after Captain Vassur convinced him to cease all of his efforts, he still looks through every little report given to him in hopes it would lead to something. Part of him felt possessed sometimes. He is unsure if Captain Vassur is aware of this, but he swears she pities him.

How pathetic.

The official communique in his hands was one of many. Commander Nakuri had specifically requested an Ordinal’s attention to the matter. Whether it was what he was looking for or not, or if it truly was something an Ordinal needed to see, he didn’t care. As long as if it could possibly temporarily free him from the hold they have on him even beyond the grave, he will take it.

“Surprise!”

“Not now,” he tells the battle mech.

Instead of sitting at his desk, he was instead on the window seat while a holo-lure took his place. Sadly, his desk is now split into two.

Wake up.

He opens his eyes to see an all too familiar setting. Right, he’s still here.

He pushes himself off the ground. His body felt heavy. Is the exhaustion finally hitting him full force? Did it finally catch up to him?

Kayn looks to his left only to see an unopened door.

Let this be the end, he’d say.

You know that won’t be the case.

As he opened the door and sees a familiar figure on the other side, everything slows down. The scythe in his hand feels heavy, his grip faltering.

“Kayn…? I-Is that you?!”

That’s their voice.

It’s really them…!

The scythe had fallen from his grip as he ran towards them. The “Voice of Ora” only watches helplessly. They watch as the figure known as Commander [Name] [Last name] extended a hand out to Kayn, and he, in turn, only embraced them.

Their warnings to him had fallen on deaf ears. They feel a piercing gaze. They know now. He is no longer their vessel. They would no longer use him as their vessel.

THEY cast THEIR gaze onto the Ordinal, and he feels that gaze. Piercing and cold, and yet gentle and warm. THEIR eyes, ones filled with love and adoration, looked down at him as THEY smiled. He belonged to THEM now. THEIR hands slowly closed, trapping him and the “Voice of Ora” in this prison paradise.