#numbers of casualties are still going up

[vikkrest]

Can the world just stop for a second and fucking BREATHE?

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan arena beasts/fighters + handler reader. Reader is an average human working at a zoo/shelters abducted and thrown into a life of caring for a galactic tyrant's playthings due to their experience with animals. Not an idea choice for the job, but with everyone who's had the job before being maimed, killed, or worse they were running out of options. Reader does the best with what they're given. They find solitude with the other captives to an extent and some of the more feral creatures remind them of stray cats and dogs they knew back home. They treat those who allow as those same poor creatures out of habit and to cope with their new life. Others are so aggressive they have to be blindfold and sedated to even get close. Reader still tries to comfort them despite the many scratches and bites they receive

A little mix up happens where a warrior meant to fight the big bad of the area had already been slain by the beast. With no alternative, reader gets sent out instead as sacrifice to appease the blood hungry masses. They cower in the corner as the beast's mask is removed, praying their battered body at least gets shipped home so they have a proper burial and their family has some clue to what happened to them. They cast their small dagger away still unable to defend themselves against what they only see as a frightened animal protecting its own skin. The beast lifts them off the ground like a ragdoll holding them high for the crowd to see as its fangs draw from its scarred lips - breaking the band around its wrist that would seal reader's victory.

The beast ties the rope around reader's neck as the announcer declares them victor by default. The crowd boos, but as the beast snaps the neck of one of the guards and throws the limb body into the arena their demands are met. Reader quakes from the sheer disbelief of the whole ordeal, and still being trapped in the beast's arms as it coos. It takes over a dozen guards to get them to separate the two. They try again with another beast reader has care for and the same thing happens. Watching the live footage closely it's clear to experts the skilled fighters allow themselves to get injured to be coddled and tended to by reader. When rations are given they try to feed reader a share of their meals. The number of casualties skyrocket when reader's taken away or new caretakers are introduced. The beasts demand their head pats and ear scratches for their winnings and they want it from one source alone.

-

The emperor is quite amused by this revelation. It perfectly masks his paranoia in the case of his pets rising against him for whatever reason and choosing the earthling as their new overlord which few have spoken of in whispers. He's torn between killing them to null his fears and befriending them to puppeteer his pets craftfully from the shadows. He decides on the latter since getting rid of them would only anger his pets. That and it would be so easy to trick the human with his charms. Few can resist the words and body of a king, after all.

"Y/n, darling, it's so good to see you! So glad you could make it. How have things been, hm?"

"I'd like to go home, please."

"Hahaha! Oh, you're so cute with your little jokes! You may enjoy your meal in due time, but I have a favor to ask of you from a friend to a king. In the case of I don't know - my pets slaughtering my entire legion and storming my castle walls to behead me and crown you ruler - would you pretty please ask them to - not do that?"

"That....sounds like it would be out of my hands."

"Right. Changing subject, you are aware I have been topless this whole conversation and my bed is right behind me. Why haven't you attempted to have your way with me by now? Not saying you could - but you can always try."

The emperor upgrades their room to one right next to his, but they hardly sleep there favoring their time caring for the others and because they'd rather stay there than see him in a state of undress on their mattress. The emperor mimics the cooing that gets wounded beasts extra smothering from their handler, but reader mostly ignores him. He grows jealous seeing them fast asleep in a cell kept warm by the body heat of the battle scarred creatures around them. He's been scarred by attempted assassinations in the past - why doesn't he get cuddles too? Combats this jealously by making a royal decree that reader has to sit with him during every battle and on his lap if they wish to stay out of his sight afterwards. Requests for reader's fredom and hand in marriage and when a champion is chosen are banned almost immediately.

[tungledotedu]

prismatic bell is shamelessly doing genocide denial again (archive org version), with some points such as:

'the keffiyeh is a symbol of arab colonialism'

'Every civilian killed is a travesty to be laid on Sinwar’s bloody hands. But…it’s actually also REALLY GOOD for urban warfare'.

no amount of 'it's tragic, i know it sucks, it's heatbreaking' will make up for the fact that xe LITERALLY SAID THERE IS A 'GOOD' AND 'PROPORTIONATE' NUMBER OF DEAD CIVILIANS. including children and babies. and this is right after xe called them colonisers.

xe's still desperately trying to deny the death toll. 'the numbers as given have been proven false. Someone was literally able to show they’re generated with a math formula. (I have articles backing this up, but again, will have to add when I’m off mobile, sorry.)'

also known as 'i can't add more sources right now, but i DEFINITELY have them!' (uses memri tv as a source)

'actually it's completely legal for israel to target hospitals because they fabricate evidence of weapons in those hospitals.' who's going to tell xir about how the iof mistook an arabic calendar for a list of names. also, legality=/=morality.

'DELIBERATE TARGETING OF HOSPITALS: yes, Israel has bombed or raided several hospitals because they were being used as weapons depots or missile launch sites. This is completely legal—what would be illegal would be raids on hospitals not being used as military sites.'

'hamas is the one that's committing genocide! if israel was really trying to eradicate all of gaza it would be done already!'

62% of homes and 84% of healthcare facilities have been damaged or destroyed. as well as more than 80% of schools.

'what is happening in ukraine IS genocide! but not palestine!'

since this person seems so fixated on 'proportionate' death tolls...

ukraine has a population of 34 million, and the 2022 russian invasion has resulted in around 34,000 civilian casuallties as of june 2024. that's a lower ratio of civilian casualties to total population (1:1000). mariupol and the rest of donetsk oblast (population: 4 million) have sustained the highest number of casualties, with over 25,000 dead. this means the ratio is 1:160. according to this user, this is enough to warrant the label of genocide.

(edit: the number of dead ukrainian civilians may be higher at 100,000, making it 1:340).

but the gaza strip had a population of 2.4 million in 2022 (see the quote below), and the estimate of around 40,000 deaths has been outdated for some time now due to israel's destruction of gazan healthcare infrastructure and staff. even without a more accurate death toll, the ratio is higher (1:60). but for some reason (racism), it's not enough to be called a genocide.

the death toll in gaza is estimated to be much higher. according to the lancet,

Applying a conservative estimate of four indirect deaths per one direct death to the 37 396 deaths reported, it is not implausible to estimate that up to 186 000 or even more deaths could be attributable to the current conflict in Gaza. Using the 2022 Gaza Strip population estimate of 2 375 259, this would translate to 7·9% of the total population in the Gaza Strip.

and this is a conservative estimate.

also, according to this user's 'logic', with a lower ratio of casualties, russia is actually 'doing urban warfare' better than israel. so much for being pro-ukraine.

all of this disgusting vitriol is tacked on a post with artwork of jesus christ, because one of the sketches depicted him with a keffiyeh. i don't think prismatic bell has anything of worth to say about christianity.

(edIted on 20 july)

changed pronoun to xir. explanation here.

i've added a link to a source for 100,000 killed civilians in ukraine.

but still, given the choice between an academic article and an internet user, i'm going to trust the academic article to have actual research with sources and not 'fake numbers' for gaza.

i wrote a bit about how the alleged 1:1.5 civilian death ratio is incorrect under the read more, but then i realised, does it actually matter? should this be the metric by which we measure proportionality in the first place? should we forget how more palestinians have been killed by israel since its founding than the other way around?

if we only focus on this, we overlook the bigger picture, the alarming number of people who have been killed or left sickened and disabled. we have to keep the total population in mind, and the fact that israel also mass murders palestinians 'indirectly'. through starvation, cutting off electricity and water, blockading medical supplies as well as other resources, denying life-saving healthcare, and other means. what prismatic-bell said about russia targeting aid workers applies to israel too.

what about how israeli militants rape and sexually torture palestinian hostages? how they don't distinguish between combatants and civilians, and their 'definition' of terrorist includes elderly men and kids they've captured and stripped to their underwear? or how they've maimed people as part of rabin's 'break the bones' policy since the first intifada? or when the iof lied about letting an ambulance rescue hind rajab, only to kill the paramedics and shoot 335 bullets at the car where she was hiding? or how they haven't stopped bombing and sniping people despite orders from the icj and credible evidence of them committing genocide?

and 'fake numbers'? sounds like projection to me. here's what prismatic-bell said:

'And finally, let’s look at the civilian-to-combatant death toll. [...] With that said, the best data we have at this moment suggests one civilian killed for every 1.5 Hamas militants.'

no source given, but i'm guessing it came from wikipedia (where the sentence is unsourced as well).

here's an actual analysis by yagil levy on ha'aretz. it's outdated, but it argues that even early on in the genocide, the israeli army failed to show restraint in targeting civilians. none of that 'it's actually also REALLY GOOD for urban warfare' or 'entirely proportionate', or however you want to cruelly dismiss human life.

It follows that with a high proportion of noncombatants among the total number of those killed, we can conclude that the principle of discrimination was not adhered to, and an unusually high rate will reflect either a departure from the principle of proportionality or a highly flexible interpretation of it. [...] Thus, rather than this being a case of "collateral damage," it was the reverse: Because most of those harmed are civilians, what was produced is "collateral benefit," in the form of a low number of Gazan combatants killed.

This calculation shows that out of the total of 6,747, at least 4,594 individuals of both sexes who can be categorized as noncombatants were killed – 68 percent of the total. 

this is a different way of calculating the ratio. it takes civilian deaths and divides it by the total number of people killed, not by combatant deaths (as the 1:1.5 ratio does). with 2,153 combatants killed, the ratio is actually around 2:1, meaning it is biased towards civilians killed. this is an outdated estimate and is probably higher in reality.

or take the iof's more recent but probably inflated estimate of 16,000 dead hamas fighters, meaning 24,000 civilians out of the 40,000 killed. the ratio would be 1.5:1. or 170,000 civilians if we go by the lancet.. that's 10.5 civilians dead for 1 militant. (if anyone has better sources let me know.)

[matan4il]

Every once in a while, the magnitude of the Hamas massacre hits me all over again.

I'm not sure most people get it even now.

In absolute numbers, it is one of the three deadliest terrorist attacks in human history (second or third worst, depends on which estimates you trust for the Camp Speicher massacre), but if we take it in relation to the size of the population in the attacked country (which we should, because terrorism by its very nation seeks to victimizes through psychological trauma the entire target population, and not just those who were physically affected during the attack), then what Hamas did IS the single deadliest terrorist attack in the entirety of human history.

But it's even more than that.

Never, in any other attack, have the terrorists taken over as much land as Hamas did on Oct 7. ENTIRE TOWNS were under complete control of the terrorists, some for SEVERAL DAYS (I specifically remember watching a report on one town, where combat with the terrorists was still taking place on Oct 11, meaning on day 5 of this terrorist invasion into Israel). ENTIRE TOWNS WERE OCCUPIED. BY TERRORISTS. There's not a single Hollywood action movie dealing with such a scenario, because NOTHING OF THIS SCALE HAS EVER HAPPENED BEFORE. Imagine waking up and hearing in real time that the northern half of the American states Washington, Idaho and Montana has been taken by terrorists, who are driving through the streets freely, as they murder, pillage, rape, torture, maim, burn and kidnap people, and almost no one's there to stop them.

And then imagine the world expecting the US government to just... let the terrorists retreat to the other side of an international border in the north, after having murdered over 40,400 American, most of which are civilians, almost 183,000 more injured, and while taking with them across the border over 8,450 American hostages, to God knows what awful fate, for how long, or if they will even ever come back alive. Entire communities and regions would be devastated, without knowing if they'd be able to rebuild. The total would be more than 230,000 Americans directly impacted (I've adapted the real numbers from Oct 7 to the size of the American population... Remember the horrendous 9/11 attack, which saw 2,977 victims killed and a few thousands more injured, and think of what would be the emotional punch of over 230,000 direct victims).

Imagine expecting the US to let that go, and allow those terrorists to continue existing and ruling the land on its northern border. Imagine expecting the US to do so while this terrorist organization openly declares that it will repeat this large scale massacre whenever possible, until the entire country is destroyed.

And please don't come at me with "Fine, Israel can react, but not like this." Unless you have the military expertise to explain exactly how Israel can protect its people from this attack ever being repeated, and to free all our hostages, without civilian casualties (despite Hamas intentionally using them as human shields, and even directly causing Gazan deaths), unless you can translate the vague "not like this" into something practical, some actual guidelines on how this urban war could have been fought differently, even though there's no historical precedent to support that this is possible, "not like this" is just wishful thinking at the expense of the safety and right to live of Israelis.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[lyesander]

Not crazy about people writing off the Titan submersible incident as some schadenfreudic buzzstory they can rag on for a handful of internet funny points. I get the frustration, I really do. At least three of the passengers had to shell out $250,000 a ticket for a glorified deep sea Disney ride. The CEO of OceanGate is a capitalist wackjob who has been complaining about and bypassing safety regulations for years, despite multiple warnings, and now the retrieval is taking up time and resources from multiple countries that could have been put to better use. But one of the crew members on board was also the nineteen year old son of another passenger. I doubt his involvement extended much beyond “I’m going on a fun trip with my dad.” Another was an unaffiliated researcher who joined the expedition to collect environmental samples for DNA analysis. Not everyone on board was a high-rolling corporate yuppie. (And even if they were, it’s still a pretty objectively horrific way to die.) Instead of memes, I’d rather see this prompt a discussion on the ethics and potential regulation of scientific tourism.

The above also doesn’t change the fact that this is dragging media attention away from more pressing issues, such as the sinking of the Andriana. I guess “THE TITANIC CLAIMS ANOTHER FIVE VICTIMS” is a more colorful headline than “the EU’s xenophobic migration policies have led to the deaths of hundreds of migrants seeking asylum in Italy, and an active cover up is now taking place, headed by Greek authorities.” Seeing all this energy be funneled towards dragging this tiny capsule out of the Atlantic when up to five hundred refugees - mostly women and children - were locked in the hull of a ship and left to suffer the exact same fate, while Coast Guard vessels looked on and did nothing (or even had an active role in the capsize after a botched attempt to tow it, according to some testimonies), illustrates the sway money and race have in what we pay attention to. It’s a gruesome example of inequity in action.

I had compared what happened to the Titan to the Kursk incident, but the Andriana doesn’t have the luxury of being a freak accident. Over 25,000 migrants have disappeared or drowned trying to cross the Mediterranean since 2014, with over 2,000 deaths taking place in 2022 alone. Those are staggering numbers. Protests have broken out across Greece over the past week in the wake of the tragedy, advocating for migration reform.

While these sorts of mass casualty events tend to leave us feeling disheartened and helpless, there are ways to help. Below is a link to SOS Humanity’s donation page. Reputable search and rescue organizations such as SOS Humanity or SOS Mediterranée built their mission statements around helping migrants like the ones on board the Andriana. Donate if you can, spread the word if you can’t.

[love-of-the-red-star]

That time I got reincarnated as an Aeon

(Series)

Chapter three: A shitshow and a happy ending (alternatively, Delia goes out and buys milk)

Chapter warnings: Attempted genocide, there’s murder, and heavy implications of violent events.

You hoped your skittishness had gotten the message through. If not, the Avgin were fucked big time.

And they were.

You had made a mistake, and it cost you the life of a young boy’s mother.

It was a miscalculation on your part, because how could you not have realized that Kakavasha’s mother was alive in the date you assumed she wouldn’t be?

You shouldn’t have let her go out there to get food as you entertained her children.

It was too late to regret things, you’d have to think now.

It was rather awkward to tell stories of hope to the children who knew another one of their people had just gotten murdered, but you tried anyways, to give them hope that they can be free from living a life they didn’t deserve. Looking at their innocent little faces made you want to cry almost— you refrained from doing so.

Hundred of hours passed by, and all it’s for is a dreaded countdown to a festival and a boy’s birthday.

You had heard a discussion outside, something about the IPC again. You scowled, snorting as you knew those cowards wouldn’t do jack shit for the Avgins.

Because why would they? Your feelings towards them continued to grow sour, and you had half the mind to ask Qlipoth if you could eat some of their people— surely, by the amount of planets that corporation have consumed they wouldn’t mind losing a few of their own.

The violent thoughts were shoved to the back burner as you instead focused on the upcoming days. There’s the telltale sign of rain, the heavy smell of it lingering in the air as you knew something bad was going to happen.

“Good lord help me.”

You sighed, big and heavy as you prepared yourself for the shitshow about to unfold.

—————————

And you were right.

Thankfully you’ve managed to warn enough people that they’d run before the Katicans got to them. If you had been a human now, this experience would possibly traumatize you forever.

This event was no joke and you were close to just taking out your disguise but realized it’d be dangerous for everyone if you outed yourself. So you opted for gathering enough people in your group— some of them held into the hope of the call for help they made to the IPC, but you resorted to shouting that the IPC won’t be coming for them.

The others, those that weren’t in your group, had made it a point to scatter out into their own groups as well.

It had been particularly messy, but no one really fully objected to you once they came to the realization that there was no help coming for them at all. If you had been human, your head would have been utterly overwhelmed.

But you were an Aeon, and you were hell bent on saving at least a portion of these people if you couldn’t make do for all of them.

It would have been easier if your true physical form could interact without causing accidental harm or even death, but you have to settle for your projection, and hopefully it would be enough.

Your hope came in the form of the same rangers you’ve painstakingly summoned for weeks on end, Kakavasha being in the arms of Boothill himself. They made it just in time.

Things were taking a turn for the better.

There were casualties and quite plenty of them, but not in the numbers you remembered a lifetime ago.

There were more survivors than there were people killed, and while you knew their life wouldn’t be very easy as you wished it would be, they were alive.

Kakavasha isn’t alone anymore with his sister being alive.

It had taken some time for the news to cause an uproar; the discrimination wouldn’t be easy to erase still, but the Avgin were at least free.

Kakavasha woke up to a new dawn of the day and found a small piece of aventurine in his fingers. There were small, wooden beads strung together that accompanied it and he squinted his eyes to read what was intricately carved on them.

There, it simply said “Happy birthday”.

You were there when he had read it, and even if you wanted to stay, you had other things to do.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, and wished him a long, happy life.

“Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye?” He asked, his grip on the beads tightening as his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I….” You hesitantly began. “I have some things to do.” You said carefully. “You remember Vertin, right?”

“Of course!” He nodded rapidly. “Wait… will you.. be going out there on a journey like her too?”

“Yes.”

“Can I come with you then?”

“No, you can’t.”

“But why?”

“It’s dangerous to stick around me.” You told him. “You don’t want to be out there yet, you’re not ready.”

“…..” Kakavasha’s lips trembled. “You’ll come back, right? The katicans wouldn’t be around to kill us anymore… you’re safe like me! Y-you don’t have to leave.”

“I know, but don’t let your guard down okay?” You ruffled his hair. “We’re safe, but we never know when this’ll last.”

“So you’re really leaving?” Kakavasha sulked, his little body leaning on to you as if a plea for you to stay. “Who’s going to tell me stories? Who’s going to play games with me and lose all over again?”

You flicked him in the forehead for his last words. “Hey, just because I constantly lose to you doesn’t mean you can rub it all over me.” You teasingly scolded him, the young boy only laughed.

“Delia.” He called out to you, shifting so he could properly see you.

“Yes?”

“Sister said you were raised by the katicans.” He said. “At least she said you were, I don’t believe it though. You look like me, and you’re nice.”

“Well, don’t let looks fool you.” You pinched his cheek affectionately and he let out a little giggle. “Oh yeah, also you know that gentleman with sharp teeth who carried you yesterday?”

“Mr. Boothill? Yeah I do, he speaks funny though.” You were tempted to tell this boy the poor cyborg just worked on a censor. “He said something about a “muddle fudger who scared everyone in my group shirtless”….. I think he was trying to say mother fucke—“ you coughed loudly as you covered his mouth.

“Where did you learn that word?” You asked, Kakavasha blinked as you removed your hand from his mouth, before looking at you straight in the eye with a certainty only a child would have.

“From you.”

You sat there and stared at him awkwardly. “Oh.” You let out not so gracefully.

He must have listened whenever you cursed under your breath.

“Don’t say any of those curse words until you’re at least as old as your sister, okay? If you want to really curse out someone, then follow after Boothill’s example until you’re old enough, got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good, now go to your sister, she has something for you.” He did as you said, however, before leaving the little tent, he looked back at you.

“You’ll come back, right?”

“I will.”

And you never did.

———————————

While dipping like a cheating father on Christmas Eve was an asshole move, you knew some things were better off without you. You stirred Aventurine from a life he will never know, and for that you gave yourself a pat on the back all the while looking at the unfortunate rangers you’ve accidentally terrorized.

You’d have to apologize to them in some way, you thought to yourself as you saw the ever fading eye bags and the look of familiar terror in their eyes.

You couldn’t offer these guys therapy, but you could offer them bounty money.

You pointedly ignore the spooked look on their faces as the intercom on them kept repeating the words “bounty complete” as several notifications popped out of their phones.

Money was flooding into their account. Where that’s coming from? Best you don’t think of it much.

“I have a feeling it’s the shirtbag who sent us the SOS message that got us this.” Boothill grumbled. “Well I’ll be darned I guess. At least it was smart enough to get us to gather around that planet to stop some stupid shirt from going too far.”

“You think it could be a follower of Lan too?” One of the rangers asked.

“Nah, they’d fire a shot if they were. That one straight up went for your mental health— but I can forgive that I think, we managed to protect folks and answer their cry for help.” One of them answered.

And with that, you were satisfied, turning your gaze away from them to come back to the express.

——————————

“Bruh.” You grimaced as you were subjected to the weirdest taste of coffee you’ve ever had in your entire life. It tasted like desolation brewed into an innocent little coffee cup.

Welt paid no attention to your suffering as you entertained Himeko’s whims, choosing to read a book instead with the broadcast as white noise.

One of Himeko’s coffees did taste good, but the majority of them tasted like they came out of Satan’s liver.

“Oh, there’s something new in the map.” Himeko said all of a sudden. “An unclaimed territory…” She glanced at you, and you innocently ignored her pointed stare as the broadcast rang through the parlor.

Hearing the words of the news and looking at the new planet— specifically Sigonia IV registered in the map of the star rail, she stared at you in semi disbelief.

“So that’s where you’ve been.” She whispered, eyes wide in surprise.

“The place didn’t have an anchor, so I couldn’t take you guys for an adventure with me.” Not that it was optimal for you to be taking them there anyway, it was better for the galaxy rangers to take over that role instead of the express.

Not because you didn’t trust the two people here, but because you simply lacked manpower.

“Besides, it wasn’t even fun.” You said. “There’s no weird monsters that looked like they came out of god’s recycling bin in there. There were just… people.” You all left it at that.

It had taken you moments to speak again.

“Anyways, where to next?”

———————————

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV (HERE), Part V, Part VI, Part VII…..

Jesus Christ this took a bit to cook. The jokes will properly return since the more serious end of the chapters is finished (there are going to be serious moments in the future).

I am on a roll and taking advantage of the creative juices before they run the fuck out.

[steventhusiast]

STWG prompt 17/4/24

prompt: "oops, that wasn't the plan"

pairing/character(s): steddie

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Steve's in the middle of squinting as he scans a library shelf for the textbook he needs when he gets rudely interrupted. A body crashes into him with nearly enough force to knock him over, and he only just manages to catch himself on the library shelves in front of him (with only a few casualties in the form of fallen books).

"Oops!" He hears from right behind him, way too loud for where they are. Sure, they're not in the silent study area, but it's still a library. Sudden noises are pretty noticeable.

Once he's recovered, he looks around the university library to see a few people's unimpressed eyes looking in his direction from their study desks. He feels heat rise from his chest to his cheeks at their attention, and suddenly flustered anger is coursing through him, because-

"What the hell?" He whisper yells, spinning around to face whoever had bumped into him.

He's about to start whisper yelling some more at whoever caused this, but then he sees who's stood in front of him, and- shit. He's hot.

Bright red, and with black curly hair up in a messy ponytail stands a guy around his height, with an expression Steve can only describe as mortification on his face. He's dressed in the student go-to late-night library session attire (university branded hoodie, sweatpants and shoes that are somewhere between slippers and clogs), and he's clutching something in one hand as he stares wide-eyed at Steve.

They stare at each other for a moment, and just as Steve's starting to get a little uncomfortable with it and opens his mouth to, once again, ask what the hell, the guy opens his own mouth and rushes out some hushed words.

"That wasn't the plan, I swear." He says nonsensically, and Steve just frowns at him.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm doing this all wrong." The guy mutters to himself, and suddenly crouches down to pick up the books that had fallen off the shelf.

He seems to use the time facing the ground to collect himself, because once he's stood upright again with the pile of books held in front of him he offers Steve a shy smile.

"My name's Eddie, and you are, just... so attractive and I've been wanting to come and talk to you for, like, an hour, and maybe give you my number? But then, I'm a total clutz, so- so I tripped and almost knocked you over instead. I am so sorry about that, by the way." His nerves seem to come back as he talks, because Steve notices his fingers tap anxiously at the bottom of the book-pile.

Steve's a little stunned by the onslaught of words, and must take too long to respond because Eddie winces after a moment and shakes his head as he averts his eyes.

"This was stupid. I'm so sorry for interrupting your night, you're probably cramming for a test or something." Eddie offers him a wounded smile this time, glancing at his face again, and then makes to turn and walk away.

"Wait- no. You can- um. I would love your number. Sorry, you caught me off guard." Steve says quietly, and Eddie stops moving, eyes going wide again. God, his eyes remind Steve of Bambi.

Steve takes a deep breath and tries to find the charisma he swears he usually has when he's not ambushed with an unexpected hot man.

"I mean, how else will I know how to contact you when I sue you for damages?"

He says it with a smile and a teasing eyebrow raise, but Eddie looks panicked at the words, like that's somehow something he's genuinely worried about, so Steve raises the hand he'd caught himself on the shelves with to show off the slightly reddened base of his palm.

"I'm mortally injured over here, I hope you have good insurance."

Finally, Eddie huffs out a surprised laugh, and the smile stays on his face once he quietens. It's a very pretty smile, much better than the nervous one he was wearing before.

"Right. Well, luckily for you I have my contact details ready to go for situations like this." He says, and (with a little fumbling to reposition the books he's holding) offers Steve an incredibly crumpled up piece of paper.

Steve unfolds it to find a phone number scrawled out, with a ridiculous drawing of a stick figure holding a landline and a speech bubble saying 'call me!'. He carefully folds up the piece of paper, pointedly pockets it, and offers Eddie another smile.

"Thanks, I will for sure be calling later. I just- I am cramming for a test, you were right. So..." He trails off, a little unsure and awkward again.

Eddie just nods, still grinning, and makes to turn around again.

"I'm looking forward to it." He says, and then walks off, ridiculous tower of books still in his hands. Steve watches him go, and then takes a deep breath and looks back at the shelf.

How the fuck is he going to focus on studying now?

[crguang]

each other’s destiny

As you travel with the Astral Express, you need to focus on the future ahead of you and let go of the curiosity you feel towards your past. That can’t happen if you keep running back to Kafka.

trailblazer!reader, some tiny angst, 2.4k words

A/N: if i had kafka’s number i’d send her the most unserious memes i have on my phone every 2 hours. this is kinda messily written i apologize

Guilt nags at you as you set up your phone against the pillows on your bed, making sure that you can be seen in the front facing camera.

You sit against the headboard, knees to your chest and arms resting over them. The line rings once, twice, and just when you think you’ll have to call a second time, she answers with a small smile. As always, you can only see a blank wall past her figure, nothing that alludes to where she is tonight. She’s sitting at a desk with a cheek in the palm of her hand and a yellowish light source highlighting her clean skin. Where you would feel a sense of curiosity and peace at the sight of her, like an invisible balm soothing your open wounds, a sense of guilt now lingers in your gut. You don’t know the exact moment it settled there, just that it follows you like an ominous shadow with each day spent on the Astral Express after the Xianzhou Luofu’s Stellaron crisis.

“What’s the face for?” Kafka’s raspy voice is clear through the phone, a new discomfort mixing with a deep familiarity that you still don’t fully understand.

You rest your chin on your forearm. You can’t be bothered to reciprocate her easy expression with the heaviness of your chest. You stare into the screen as you think of a way to express yourself clearly. When you take too long to answer, Kafka tilts her head in question.

“I don’t think… we should keep doing this,” you say softly.

Kafka’s small smile doesn’t waver, but something in you believes that she wasn’t expecting your reply.

“Where’s that coming from?”

It’s strange. This sluggishness in your bones, the sadness that envelops you at the idea of distancing yourself from her, shouldn’t be there. You don’t know her. You hold little recollection of who she is and who you were, there is only a thread of familiarity curled around your heart that tugs whenever she’s near. In all the ways that matter, she is nothing— a faint trace of the person you might’ve been, the lingering ghost of a past you can’t remember. You’ve chosen to only look forward the moment you stepped on the Express, where everything that guided you towards the trailblaze becomes irrelevant. You shouldn’t care for what you were because you are a Nameless living in a continuous present; the journey and who you share it with mold you, not a past you can’t seem to shake. You want to be like March, full of life and anticipation for the next adventure, instead you are haunted by her and the incomprehensible tug of your heartstrings.

Your weekly video calls started the second week of you traveling with the Astral Express. You didn’t know about the Stellaron Hunters then, what they did and why, though the latter still eludes you. You only knew the feeling in your gut when Kafka smiled, like you enjoyed the sight many times before. She revealed nothing to you but you couldn’t sense any malice in her interest, so you answered her calls each time your phone rang. You know more, now, about the Nameless and the trailblaze; about what the Stellaron Hunters are prepared to do to achieve their goals; about the galaxy you’re traveling around. You are no longer ignorant and you can’t pretend to be just to indulge the mortal urge to cling to past memories. You feel you are betraying your companions with the… fondness for her that resides deep within your cells. You can’t bear the guilt anymore.

“The Stellaron Hunters…” you pause, then correct yourself, “you don’t care about hurting others. The Luofu’s casualties could have been avoided.”

“People will always have to die for a cause. People have died to elevate ideals since the beginning of humanity. Besides, we made sure you guys saved the day, didn’t we?”

“That’s not right.”

Kafka chuckles and the condescension of it makes your lips purse. She observes you for some time, though you can’t discern what hides behind her practiced appearance.

“You’re even starting to sound like them,” she says, only a touch amused, “seems like you’re fitting in fine with the Express crew.”

“I sound like them because I’m a Nameless.”

“Right.”

She doesn’t add anything else. You let the gentle whirring of the train’s engine calm the growing frustration in your stomach. It’s unfair how Kafka gets to know who you are— were— and you don’t. You don’t enjoy the subtle ways in which she reminds you of that fact either, it makes you feel ignorant, like a toddler who knows little of the world and needs someone to hold their hand. She holds the answers to your questions and chooses to keep them close to her chest for a reason you can’t figure out. You wish you didn’t care, that you could embark on a new planet with your friends and not think about what she’s doing at the same moment. A part of you, smaller, wishes she wasn’t the first face you saw when you woke up on the space station.

“I have something to ask,” your arms wrap around your propped up shins as you speak, “answer me honestly.”

“I can’t promise you I will.”

“Why do you entertain me?”

“…Entertain you,” Kafka repeats to herself, eyes narrowing slightly in thought.

“Why reach out to me and set up these calls every week? We don’t say anything of substance during them, why waste your time with something so pointless?”

“You don’t like talking to me?”

“That’s not what I…” Your features harden when you catch her teasing smile. You ignore her attempt at redirection and continue, “Just answer me.”

Kafka shrugs a shoulder, tucking a strand of hair falling into her face back behind her ear. “I don’t find our talks pointless.”

You don’t know why her reply annoys you, maybe because it doesn’t make sense; you mostly discuss how you’re doing and the new things you’ve discovered on your journey. Kafka asks mundane questions and you answer them in the quiet of your room, softly retelling your week as she watches you grow drowsy in the process. Then you wonder about her and after a few vague half-truths, she masterfully redirects the conversation back to you. By then, you’re too tired to comment on it. Apart from helping you fall asleep when you usually would stay awake until early in the morning, your weekly calls amount to nothing. How can they hold any kind of significance for her? You know why you answer your phone. Despite it all, you can’t help the faint sense of comfort that comes with her presence and in a world of new sensations, it feels nice to have something like that to come back to even if you have no idea what it stems from. You can’t wrap your head around why she keeps calling, however. You suppose it’s not far-fetched to think she might feel the same way you do, since she’s told you about how she was the one who supposedly taught you everything you know. Still, she doesn’t seem like the type to dwell on the past.

A slow, tired sigh escapes you as you cross your legs and run a hand over your face to alleviate the fatigue of your body. Kafka watches you through the screen, her lips a thin line. You rest your elbows on your thighs and cup your cheeks, staring head at the wall filled with pictures March took of Belobog and the Luofu. You photobombed most of them so she let you take them and helped you put them up in pretty patterns with colorful string lights she had laying around in her closet.

“I’m sick of being kept in the dark,” you mutter.

“I understand. Elio makes sure I only know what I need to, and I have to do the same for you.”

“You don’t get to decide what I need or don’t need to know.”

“…Maybe not.” Kafka drums her fingers on the desk. “Your journey matters more than the past, it’s unchangeable and therefore irrelevant. Focus on where you are now and the rest will fade away.”

“So everyone keeps saying. Do I not deserve to know who I am?”

A tinge of irritation laces your words and judging by Kafka’s pause, she’s noticed.

“I don’t want the past to fade away,” you continue, straightening up in a sudden surge of passion, “I want to know. I want to know why you—”

You cut yourself off and she raises a brow.

“Why I what?”

“Doesn’t our past shape our present?” You ask instead. “How can I just go on not knowing who I was before?”

Kafka decides not to acknowledge your diversion. She shakes her head. “Your case is an exceptional one. There’s nothing for you before the Stellaron because you are an artificial body created for that purpose only.”

“So, that’s it? I’m a… a robot, and it starts there.”

“No. You are human in all the ways that matter and extraordinary in every other aspect. That’s when it starts.”

You hear the conviction in her statement. You don’t feel the relief you thought would come with the truth. You can’t put it into words but you feel almost empty, like parts of you are missing and in their place stands a shapeless void. You didn’t get to grow up, to have parents or a family, to learn how to walk, talk, read— you are alive and yet you haven’t truly lived. If people are made up of experiences, you are not a full person yet. It’s uncomfortable to think about and does nothing to alleviate the heaviness of your limbs.

There’s a bulge in your throat that doesn’t go away after you’ve swallowed twice. You stare at the marine blue sheets of your bed for some time, lost in thought. Kafka reclines on her chair, a strange expression on her face. She’s looking at her screen but her mind seems elsewhere as well. A moment passes in silence before you find the strength to speak up about something you’ve wondered since you awoke on Herta’s space station.

“If there was nothing prior to hosting the Stellaron,” you start slowly, “then where does my connection with you come from?”

“I told you on the Luofu that I was in charge of teaching you before I put the Stellaron in your body.”

“Is that why you care?”

Kafka smirks a beat too late for it to be natural. “What makes you think I care?”

“Because I care. Even if I don’t understand why.”

She stares at you through the phone and you meet her gaze without flinching. She doesn’t allow herself to be quiet for too long but you think you’ve put her in a somewhat difficult position. You doubt anything that comes out of her mouth will be truthful.

“Well,” Kafka says with a dismissive shrug, “we did spend some time together, that also explains why you remember me.”

“So we were close.”

She takes a while to reply, looking at something past her screen. Her voice is low, thoughtful, underlined with a sort of wistfulness, “Mmm… You used to follow me around like a puppy, always trailing behind me and asking all sorts of questions.”

She doesn’t seem amused as she speaks even though the words are meant to tease you. You think maybe she misses that. Kafka smiles, but it’s an empty one.

“You’ve grown since then.”

There it is again, that lump stuck in your throat, the feeling that you’re missing something important and that your lack of memories creates a glass wall between the two of you. You can’t understand the look in Kafka’s eyes and the softer edge to her features, if only for the instant she uttered these words. You don’t know why you’re sad when you initiated this goodbye or why it feels like the end of something unexpected, a period of time that belongs to her and someone else. You are unable to remember, but it’s not the case for your body; your shoulders drop and you fight the urge to rub your throat so its muscles relax a little. Somehow, you know that you will only miss her at first, on the days when everything is new and you can’t rely on the familiarity of her voice.

“…It’s late,” you manage to say, and Kafka hums in agreement, gaze never leaving yours.

There’s a sudden knock at your door, the noise making you tense and turn towards it in suspicion until a voice sounds from beyond, slightly muffled yet entirely recognizable. Himeko softly calls your name from outside your bedroom and asks if you’re still awake.

“Just a minute, Himeko!”

Your head snaps back to your phone, alert and aware that she can’t know who you’re in a call with. Kafka observes the conflict on your face with a humorless chuckle.

“Looks like you’ve got company.”

“I need to go,” you reach for the device, pausing for a few seconds as your thumb hovers over the hang up button. “I won’t be calling next week.”

“…I know. We’ll see each other again.”

You hang up with a trembling sigh. You throw the phone on your bed and stand up to answer the door, rubbing your tired eyes. Himeko stands on the other side, a teacup in hand. She’s in a long nightgown, a robe over her shoulders, and she smiles when she sees you; the kind of smile that unconsciously makes your lips mimic hers. Her pretty hair is loose and her eyes are bare of any makeup, exposing the faint crinkles at their corners. The sight of her reminds you of the journey you’re on and of the reliable companions that walk beside you. You feel better than you did a moment before.

“I know you have trouble sleeping and I saw the light coming from under the door, so I made you some tea in case you needed it,” she says, handing you the cup, and you take it with gratitude blooming inside your chest.

“Oh,” you exhale, not knowing what to say. “Thank you. Why are you still up?”

“I may have overdone it with caffeine today,” Himeko laughs quietly. “I’ll be awake for a while. We can talk until you doze off if you’d like. You’ll need all your energy for tomorrow.”

You stand there, fingers gripping the tiny cup as you stare at her. You feel seen under her casual attention and though it isn’t familiarity that washes over you, it’s a comfort nonetheless. You nod, stepping aside to let Himeko in, and the easy way in which she makes herself comfortable in the armchair near your bed makes you light.

[phantoms-world-and-more]

There are a series of mass murder going on. Most of them are government agents with 3 other casualties whose only relation is that they were the ones that brought the topic up to the light. After a series of leads and investigations, they happened upon a castle in the land of the dead. In it was not a ghost king but a human woman wearing a powerful artifact where she draws her power and calls herself Queen. Somehow, she overpowered the previous king with said power and turned her personal vendetta into a revenge spree. They fought her. If they can destroy the artifact then they would have the upper hand.

After a series of struggles, Jazz managed to save her brother. But he is so heavily injured that he retreated to his core. Jazz keeps him close to protect him and moves to the ghost zone to heal better in ambient ectoplasm. But the zone still need their king, especially now that he is injured and causing mass panic in his absence. So she took over as the rightful placeholder as Queen regent and redirected their vengeance to those who hurt her brother. His people. She needs to make sure the earth is safe enough for him to wonder and not fear getting caught. She only draws Danny's powers for emergencies, and in the zone where Danny is loved by his people, it doesn't happen at all, so he gets to heal. But this people who calls themselves heroes, who was not there for her brother, for Amity, who don't understand that they are facing their consequences and she's too afraid to trust enough to tell them, threatens to destroy her brother. After all that she's been through to protect him. She would do many more.

Bad ending: they manage to grab and destroy the artifact, causing a number of them to victory cheer, only to stop after hearing a devastating scream of the queen. Crying and collecting the artifact slowly turning to dust. Some thought she was devastated to lose her super OP powers but to others. They know that scream. And begins to think "ohh, they fucked up"

Good ending: uhhh, idk. Haven't thought that far

.

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

Loud

Hero shuffles in their chair. Why are hospital chairs so uncomfortable? It didn't help that they had bruises everywhere. They remember how during their last fight an entire building collapsed on them. It was an accident by one of Hero's sidekicks. They had placed the explosives in the wrong place. From what they heard there were no casualties yet, a few people in the ICU and a few people still missing. They didn't get exact numbers yet. If they close their eyes, they can see the building fall. It's coming straight at them. If Villain hadn't been there to shield Hero…

They look at the figure in the hospital bed. They are connected to multiple machines and are hooked up on an IV. The always intimidating and seemingly indestructible Villain looks so frail and vulnerable now. Why did Villain do that? Wouldn't it be easier for them to just let Hero die and save themselves?

They had tried to make it as comfortable as possible. The doctor had said that they were going to have to stay for a long time. Hero already knew Villain was going to try to run a few times despite their injuries. At least they didn't have to worry about getting arrested. The doctor seemed to know Villain as a friend and Hero hadn't told the Agency who they were with.

They had tried to get Villain a single room but those were full. So instead they were in a room with two beds. One for Villain, one for a loud teenage girl, maybe 20 years old. Luckily, the room was divided by a curtain between the two beds, and to Hero's delight, they got the side with the window. Not that the curtain that it stopped any sound…

A noise from Villain made Hero sprint to their side. The vulnerable criminal was pulling at their IV, trying to take it out. “Shhh, don't do that. You really need that right now,” Hero whispers. A soft, almost inaudible “No” escaped Villain's lips. Hero grabbed Villain's hand and held it. Now they can't mess with the IV anymore, plus maybe it comforted Villain. They have a pained expression on their face. “Shhh…it's okay. You're going to be okay,” Hero tries to sooth them. Hero watched as Villain's breathing slowed again and saw when they fell asleep.

The next three hours the girl presses the call button constantly. Hero has lost count how many times a nurse has walked in and left again. It's always for something stupid they could do themselves easily. Their bed wasn't at the right angle, they couldn't plug in their phone, they wanted a glass of water (the bottle wasn't good enough). Meanwhile Hero was looking at the Villain who was practically fighting for their life and if they could, would ask nothing from nobody. Besides, a friend of the girl had arrived. They had started talking loudly to the point a neighboring patient had walked in and asked to shut up. To Hero's dismay, they did not shut up. It made their blood boil.

A couple of hours later, Villain was awake. Not entirely coherent, but awake. They are eating a little of the shitty hospital food when the girl starts yelling for a nurse. Villain jumps a bit at the sudden noise. When a nurse walks in they can hear the girl and her friend ask the poor nurse to get their take-out that was delivered at the hospital door. They could hear the gears in the nurse's head turn. Finally, they hear an answer: “Your friend can get it for you. Besides, we serve you dinner,” the nurse answers with a patience that truly baffles Hero. They would have flipped out at the girl already. “Yes, but the food here is shit and it's too far. Plus, we would need to stop our conversation and that's not an option,” the friend answers. Hero can hear the Villain scoff from their bed alongside the word ‘Assholes’.

It's well into the night now and by some miracle the nurses allowed Hero to stay past visiting hours. The girl's friend on the other hand had less luck. She had to go home, but no worries, they could still talk. That's what facetime is for!

They are talking loudly over the phone. Hero is convinced every single room in the hallway can hear it. They look at Villain who hasn't been able to fall asleep again. Even in the dark they can see a tear roll down Villain’s face. “Hey,” Hero says softly as they come closer, “What's wrong?” It's one word that made the Hero's already thin patience disappear. “Tired,” Villain says, pointing at the curtain hiding the girl. Oh, now they are done.

Hero walks over to the curtain and pulls it aside. “Will you finally shut the fuck up!?” Hero yells a little louder than they had wanted. The girl looks back a little startled. “I don't have to listen to you. I do what I want. Who are you anyway?” the girl says with an arrogance that makes Hero want to strangle her. “I'm Hero, and if you don't shut up I will personally put you in the deepest darkest cell for public disruption,” They answer with venom in their voice. The message seems understood as the girl quickly hangs up and turns off her light. Hero returns to their chair and they could swear they heard a small applause in the distance. Villain has returned to dreamland and Hero decides to follow. The chair seems way more comfortable now there isn't a girl yelling in their ear…

Hi! I felt like writing something before I left for camp. I do have my phone on me but I'm going to be less active. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!

Per usual, my asks are open if you want to do a request ( or tell me something, that's nice too).

[antianakin]

Pong Krell. It’s universally agreed that he deserved worse than what he got and I get that. I just wished we got to see what he was like before he Fell. Did he always hate clones, was it gradual? Did he suspect something off and went over paranoid?

I’ll say this one and I’ll say this probably a thousand more times but I wished the creators focused on more details with characters. It’s absolutely fascinating that they created a Jedi that Fell but did nothing with it besides outright evil.

How other Jedi reacted to learning that a fellow Jedi betrayed everyone? How did the Republic?

I just wished they did more with him than just, yeah that dude was a dick and killed clones.

Yeah, it's one of the things I don't like as much about TCW, the extremely episodic nature of it means that there really is never any build-up to anything or lasting impact from anything. Unless it's happening within one of the 2-4 episode arcs, we RARELY get to see any kind of build-up or fallout. It's one of the major issues with Barriss, too, we see her ONCE in season 2 and she's calm, kind, methodical, and selfless. And then three seasons later in season 5 she's suddenly ruthless, selfish, doubting everything and everyone, merciless, etc. There is NO BUILD UP to that radical 180 to her character and there's no real exploration of how Ahsoka really feels about that particular betrayal afterwards, the focus in later episodes after the Wrong Jedi focuses only on Ahsoka feeling betrayed by the COUNCIL and her feelings about that. Nothing since TCW has ever touched it either (Rebels, Mandalorian, the Ahsoka show). Satine's death never really comes up again after it happens aside from Bo-Katan being an asshole. Obi-Wan goes from being totally fucked up about Maul coming back to being chill enough to take on Maul and Savage alone and winning without us getting to see him actually deal with those emotions.

Pong Krell and the Umbara arc IN GENERAL falls into this category easily (so do the Zyggeria and the Deception arc tbh). Krell is such a basic evil character, there's so little nuance to him and we never get to see the Jedi react to the revelation that one of their own turned at all. Dooku turned after he had already left the Order as far as any of them really know, but Krell was still IN the Order when he decided to betray them and it would've been really interesting to see the impact of that on them. It would've been ESPECIALLY interesting to explore that more during the Wrong Jedi arc in particular in how the Jedi feel like they can't trust their own people not to betray them anymore after Dooku and Krell.

Krell is presented with like. Zero nuance. He is just unequivocally evil and despite Anakin greeting him in a friendly way at the beginning, the visuals tell you this dude's no good right from his first appearance. There isn't really any chance that he's going to be a good guy at all. So all we are left with are headcanons.

And I remember discussing my Krell headcanons somewhere, but I think it might've been on a Discord server I've since left, so I unfortunately cannot find them again. So I'll try to remember them and immortalize them here, I guess.

Here's the thing about Krell. NO ONE suspects him. So he cannot be overtly acting like a bigoted asshole from the jump at any point, he HAS to be acting in such a way that it's not trickling out to the other clones and to the Jedi themselves that Krell is an absolute monster. Even Fives takes a moment to decide that Krell is suspicious and only brings up Krell's casualty numbers after he sees Krell's behavior for a minute and combines that knowledge with what he's now personally experiencing and is starting to come to conclusions based on that. He doesn't go into the relationship thinking Krell is worse than any other Jedi already.

And based on what we know of EVERY OTHER FALLEN JEDI (Dooku, Anakin, Barriss), they didn't start out as monsters. Dooku was a highly respected Jedi Master who seems to have had a really positive relationship with Yoda and Qui-Gon and simply became disillusioned with the Senate and his care for the people of the galaxy got twisted into something darker over time. Barriss was kind, selfless, compassionate, brave, and resourceful, and it was the war that caused her to start letting her fears and pain consume her into turning on the Jedi. Anakin was kind and spent years having his fears and doubts twisted into selfishness and greed and darkness that allowed him to justify murder and genocide for power. So it wouldn't make sense to me that Pong Krell wouldn't fall into the same pattern where he was once kind and good and selfless and brave, but that the circumstances surrounding the war caused him to lose faith and fall.

My headcanon is that he lost an entire battalion early in the war, much like we see happen to Plo Koon during the Malevolence arc and that that loss and failure just BROKE him. Krell DID care about the clones, he cared about his men, and he FAILED them all. And I think that he saw all of these clones dying by the dozens in all of the other battalions and instead of choosing to let go of his pain and fear and lean into his compassion, he chose to distance himself from them entirely to make it hurt less. If he didn't care about the clones, if he just saw them as the cannon fodder that the Senate treated them all as, then it would hurt less when they died. Maybe the Senate itself even dragged him over the coals for that initial loss. Or perhaps it was the opposite, maybe most of his battalion was killed, but it ultimately ended in a victory anyway because they were forced to just keep going despite the consequences. And so Krell decides to enter this mindset where he is disillusioned with the Senate and just CANNOT allow himself to care about the clones, because it won't change what the Senate is going to do to them anyway, so he may as well just treat them the same way.

And this wouldn't have happened overnight. It wouldn't have been a sudden 180 where he decided he was just going to treat them like shit. But he maybe decided to put some more professional distance between himself and his new battalion, not get close to them, not use their names (although he still knows them, still remembers them all). Maybe one day they're in a tricky situation and all of his options are bad, he HAS to sacrifice some of his men in order to salvage the situation at all, and it's a choice between a full retreat that he KNOWS the Senate won't take well, or sacrificing the men to achieve the victory. So he sacrifices the men. It's not an entire battalion, it's not even a whole company, but it's more than it would've been if he'd retreated. Maybe next time, there's a choice between going back to save some of the men even if it poses a risk to his own life or the mission or something, and he chooses not to go back for them because the mission is more important, or he rationalizes that his life is more important as the Jedi General. And it's just more and more little decisions like that that add up over time to being able to see the clones as nothing more than tools.

The disillusionment with the Senate leads to him sort-of agreeing with things Dooku and the Separatists have said and he can look at the war and realize that it's entirely possible that the Republic is going to LOSE, and he CANNOT be the one who loses again, so maybe he starts bouncing around the concept of maybe switching sides. And of course initially he rejects the idea. He's a Jedi, he won't just abandon the Republic, he can't be a traitor, who in the Separatist side would ever trust him anyway. But once that seed is planted, it doesn't go away and it keeps coming back up and he keeps finding ways to rationalize why it might be a good idea and then deciding not to do it over and over again. Until one day, he can't convince himself that it's a bad idea or that it wouldn't work. He tells himself it's the ONLY option, if he doesn't change sides then he's dead. But Dooku WON'T trust him unless he can prove that he's not on the Republic's side, so he has to come up with a plan to gain their trust. And what better way to earn that trust than to ensure a Separatist victory in an important campaign by double-crossing the Republic.

And once he's chosen to go down that path, it's even EASIER to stop caring about the clones because, well, they're all dead anyway. The Republic is going to lose, the clones are all dead men walking no matter what, so why bother caring about them or trying to keep them alive? He can't lose so often that the Jedi or the Senate become suspicious of him, of course, but it's REALLY easy then to get to Umbara and treat the clones like crap and turn them against each other and intentionally try to get them all killed. They're dead anyway, he's not the one killing them really, is he, the Senate is, the Jedi are, the war is. They were dead from the moment they were created in that test tube because they were created for this specific purpose. It's not his fault.

And much like Barriss turns against the Jedi in part because she did LOVE the Jedi and was devastated by what she saw happening to them and the pain of seeing her people forced to become something they were never supposed to be, as much as her actions were intended as some kind of message to try to sort-of save the Jedi from a course of action she saw as their downfall, I think that Krell turns on the clones because at some point he DID care about them. A lot. And that care became his downfall, the pain at what was being done to them just absolutely gutted him and it threw him down a path that ultimately led him to turn against the very people whose deaths had hurt him so badly just a few short years ago.

Krell might not have been the most effusive or emotional person prior to the war or anything, he might've been a more reserved person similar to Mace or Dooku or Luminara, but I think he probably was a perfectly good Jedi who was kind and selfless and compassionate once upon a time.

And none of the headcanons above have even touched what his relationships with other JEDI must have been like. It's just as possible that he did have friends and people he considered family among the Jedi. Maybe he had a padawan once at some point. And maybe all of those people had died by the time we get to Umbara. Maybe he had to watch a lot of the people he was closest to just fall like flies, and so it starts feeling like nothing matters. Maybe one of the Jedi who died on Geonosis was a former padawan of his, but Krell himself obviously wasn't there and the pain of THAT loss and the guilt he feels at not having been there (even though this padawan had been knighted for a while and there was a good reason Krell wasn't there that day) just sticks with him, too, and he never quite manages to let that go, either.

I think a lot of people choose to just headcanon Krell as having just always been kind-of an asshole even when he was a Jedi, but that doesn't work for me. If Krell was always an asshole, I feel like the Jedi would've stepped in at some point before the war even HAPPENED and tried to manage that situation. And it doesn't match up with the way pretty much every other fallen Jedi has ever been written, where they were GOOD PEOPLE once upon a time who saw awful things happen that they couldn't stop or had an awful thing happen TO them that they couldn't stop and the pain of that experience consumes them to the point that they spiral into darkness as a result. Krell should be the same way, which means he likely was a perfectly good normal Jedi before the war. He would've been kind, he might've been good with younglings (he's tall, maybe he was the one the younglings went to all the time for piggy back rides, maybe he often taught dual wielding to padawans who asked because of how clearly proficient he is at it), he might've taught a student of his own successfully, he would've been wise and selfless and compassionate, he would've loved the Jedi and the people of the galaxy.

Like, to be frank, if Tales of the Jedi HAD to explore a fallen Jedi story, they should've explored Krell instead of Dooku. Dooku has been explored before, we know quite a lot about him and his motivations and his backstory, but Krell, as you noted, is left a mystery and is stuck in the realm of being just purely evil for the sake of the story they were telling in this one arc. Krell needed more nuance in a way Dooku just did not.

[serena-babes]

So i have this idea about the knights of hell. There can’t be a king and princess without some royal protection. So how do you think the others will react to a Hell Knight Reader? Like reader is like a commander of a group of elite knights. And they came to check up on Charlie and Lucifer! To see if the king and princess are okay after the attack on the hotel.

Brownie points if reader doesn’t smile and are serious all the time! Reader is very dangerous they can and will kill to protect their king and future queen! No romance of course, just platonic relationships. Like Charlie can see reader as an older sibling.

Royal Knight Reader x Lucifer Morningstar + Charlie Morningstar

platonic!˙ᵕ˙✰

Gender neutral!

1.5k

omg! this is too cute! i really love the whole knight idea! ⋆｡°✩ i did some research on the whole knight system and its SUPER interesting!

might make another one shot of a knight reader with my own little twist･°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°.

✧₊⁺⋆.˚꩜⊹ ࣪ ˖˚☽˚.⋆✧₊⁺⋆.˚꩜⊹ ࣪ ˖˚☽˚.⋆✧₊⁺⋆.˚꩜⊹ ࣪ ˖˚☽˚.⋆✧₊⁺⋆.˚꩜⊹ ࣪ ˖˚☽˚.⋆✧₊⁺✧₊⁺

Ever Since Lucifer and Lilith's fall from grace, protection has always been a necessary resource. Y/ns has been there since the beginning pledging allegiance to both the king, queen, and the then young princess serving them for centuries. Y/n and the rest of the knightage fought to make sure to keep hell orderly, or as orderly as hell can get. 

Y/n was much more serious compared to their fellow knights being a Grand Cross comes with its different sets of responsibilities that in their mind “allow for no error.” due to their seemingly frigid exterior outsiders would think Y/n was only following the chivalry code nothing more. But, on the contrary, Y/n did truly care for Morningstars.

This is why Y/n's heart dropped hearing about the extermination coming earlier than expected, it was always busier during this time of year. The number of casualties just from the royal guard was always a hard gap to fill after the massacre was over. But at least, the Morning Stars were spared. This time, however? Y/n wasn't sure everyone was going to come back alive, a direct attack from heaven? Some of their most skilled knights have fallen to the hands of exorcists. How in hell would Charlie ever come out alive? 

But, Y/n takes orders, and Lucifer stops her from interfering. 

“I don't understand why you won't let me do this,” Y/n exclaimed curtly, brows pulled tightly together. The confusion was evident in their tone, their body rigid like a sword. A still silence blankets the room after no response. Y/n, Moving forward through Lucifer's study smoothly dodging various piles of ducks. Continued.

“I am loyal to this family, eternally. And the one chance I am needed…you, tell me to stay?.. Why? She is your daughter. Do you want her blood to spill across the pavement? Because that is what will happen if you let this continue.” Anger started to bubble to the surface as they pointed an accusatory finger at Lucifer.

The silenced followed them 

“You must let me go I have-” Y/n pleading began

“Stop, I order you to stop,” Lucifer said weakly, looking away unsure. It was obvious he was going through his own anxiety and turmoil due to the extermination and the safety of his daughter.

“She has to do this, you.” he looked to Y/n glassy-eyed

“Cannot face heaven” he continued “I don't think anyone here really can… Charlie can hold her own. I mean if anything this could I don't know, um.. steer her away from heaven!” he said, his charismatic exterior seemingly returning to his body.

“Yes…but what do we do if she cannot handle it.” y/n said quietly, mouth pulled into a deep frown.

“Well, who better than me? King of hell! Eh! Eh!” lucifer exclaimed loudly elbowing y/n's rib cage

“This is not a time for humor,” she responded coldly. Lucifer rolled his eyes playfully.

“ Y/n I'm worried about her too, but this is something she needs to do. If I need to I will step in. You have enough to worry about with everybody else looking to you for guidance, have faith in her. So! I order you to stay here!…. Please.” Lucifer exclaimed albeit a little awkwardly since he was not used to giving many orders directly to Y/n's face

Y/n Sighed bending down to kneel “As you wish my king.” 

“Okay okay, you don't have to do all of that! I mean, come on! You're practically family.” Lucifer exclaimed in surprise. 

And so, Y/n trusting Lucifer they went back to their duties. Making preparations for extermination day preoccupied their mind most days. but silently anxiety seeped in. Truthfully, Y/n is terrified of losing Charlie and Lucifer they're the only family they've ever had. Even in life, Y/n wasn't close to anyone as much as they were with the MorningStars, which is why relief flooded Y/n's whole body hearing that both Charlie and Lucifer were safe in the end. After the hotel was rebuilt, they planned a visit to double-check. 

It was your average day at the hotel, Husk was busy cleaning the bar counter with a tattered rag as Angel Dust as well as Vaggie lounged on the couch. Angel, scrolled mindlessly through their phone while Vaggie worked on sharpening her spear. Charlie, of course, was planning new lesson plans with her father. Everything was calm. That was until three loud pounding knocks rumbled through the room.

Vaggie immediately jumped up in defense while everyone slowly turned towards the door, a menacing shadow shown through the glass. The only person who seemed excited was Charlie.

“Wait! Wait! This could be a new guest!” Charlie said excitedly jumping at the opportunity to greet the mysterious person at the door

“Okay everyone, let's remember to smile and introduce ourselves!” she smiled to everyone in the lobby, Alastor now entering the picture to observe.

Charlie swung the door wide open “Welcome to the hazbin hotel!- Y/n!!” 

Charlie embraced Y/n in a bone-crushing hug squealing and spinning both her and the reader around “I'm so excited to see you! It's been so long! Oh! Come and meet everyone!”

But just as Charlie was leading you over to the rest you spot a certain um. Eccentric! red demon

“Oh! What in the unholy hell is that..” y/n exclaimed obviously unsettled by the red demon 

Grimacing at the sight and leaning down Charlie 

“Charlie, I trust your judgment but what… what the HELL is that.” but just as y/n leaned up there he was.

“Alastor, Pleasure to be meeting you dear. Quite a pleasure indeed!” Alastor said enthusiastically jostling you around like a rag doll with his over-excited handshake.

“And who are you? The servant to the morning stars him?” he continued. Lucifer and y/n both make eye contact across the room silently agreeing about their mutual opinion of this “Radio Demon” as he likes to be called.

“More like, protector. What are you hm? The janitor? With that tattered suit, one might think you would be a stray animal who wandered in.” Y/n shot back with a frown and an unimpressed brow

“Alright! y/n! Let um let's meet everybody else! please..” Charlie said steering you away from Alastor you both looked as if you were about to be at each other throats if she didn't intervene 

“Everyone! This is y/n! They are a part of the…” she whispered over to Y/n “Is it the knightage..?”

“Yes, it's the knightage you're right.” y/n had responded quietly they were used to Charlie's struggle with certain words many nights they had to help Charlie with their spelling when she was younger.

“The Knightage! They work for me and Dad.” Everyone had gone silent at this news no one ever thought that they would be meeting the top of the food chain. Royal knights have been seen around hell usually around the time of the extermination, and almost everybody knew not to mess with them. Especially Y/n, just looking at them everyone would think they could snap someone in half without a second thought. Almost everybody there straightened their posture as Y/N's cold gaze flicked over everybody even Alastor tensed up slightly. 

“It's nice to meet everybody, Charlie is very enthusiastic about this hotel of hers, I'm glad it's made its reach to people,” Y/n responded professionally, Charlie looked over the cast of people in the room noting the uncomfortableness of everybody, She knew y/n was…Cold-looking, but she's never seen anyone react to just their presence in such a way. 

The silence lasted for what seemed like an eternity no one daring to speak up 

“So, are both your swords accurate about hitting certain deep spots, or just the one?” Angel spoke up flirtatiously everyone's heads snapping in the direction of the outburst

“What?! Just asking, geese.” replied angel

“My sword is made of iron it's manufactured to hit “deep spots” A knight does not possess two iron swords that would be .. redundant,” Y/n said calmly. Angel had side-eyed Husk when this was said triggering Husk to roll his eyes to mimic annoyance. 

“Speaking of weapons, Vaggie your spear needs to be sharpened. I suggest you sharpen it daily it'll really glide through people like butter if you do.” Y/n continued, they had met Vaggie prior to the hotel but only briefly as Charlie didn't come to the castle much anymore after Lilith left. 

“Oh! Um, thanks!” Vaggie replayed hurriedly intimidated by the tall stance Y/n possessed the heavy armor from neck to toe didn't help them look less menacing either

“By the way, thank you for protecting Charlie and everyone at the hotel.” y/n said slowly moving down to kneel “ I wasn't there myself due to my orders but I am glad to know Charlie is in good hands it brings peace of mind.” Y/n continues now fully kneeling 

Vaggie visibly flustered responded quickly “Oh! It was oh it was nothing really.” 

“Y/n?” Charlie interjected 

Y/n slowly rising to their feet, “Yes, Charlie?”

“How about you stay for dinner really.. Catch up!” Charlie said excitedly. Y/n glanced over to Lucifer who had two thumbs up. 

“Ah hell, why not.”

[diejager]

[a portal opens and i crash onto the floor, looking nauseous. i get up and weakly raise my hand:]

requesting.. your… makarov headcanons… pleaseee- AaHHHH-

[another portal opens and i fall into it, disappearing]

Vladimir Makarov headcanons

Pairing: Vladimir Makarov x reader

Cw: manipulation, kidnapping, obsession, DUB-CON/NON-CON, DARKFIC, mind break, physical abuse, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 854

As I’ve said previously, I doubt that Makarov knows how to love. He can’t love because it isn’t necessary for his cause, to provide him with something useful in his steps towards his purpose. He does not need something useless —something that’s lost its use over the years, that’s why he sees no problem with disposing of his helpers after they failed or disappointed him. 

If he has no use for something, he lets them go. If you plead your case enough and prove to him that you still have some usefulness in you, he’ll keep you for the time being. He has many enemies, much more than allies —those he considers allies. 

He, however, is still a man under his acts of terrorism and infamous image. Makarov might be busy, but he still has time for his needs, especially after spending four years in prison. He, however, has expectations, he likes challenges as much as he likes winning, and he wants something he can control, manipulate and order around. Makarov wants something easy enough to influence and exploit, and who better than a soldier stolen from his enemies —you.

He takes per quality. He prefers quality over quantity for the things he keeps close, for simple soldiers he employs for Konni, it’s all about quantity, a number high enough to overwhelm the people, but qualified enough to work. You’re the only thing that isn’t from the old Soviet Union in his organisation, little you who came from outside his precious Motherland. 

You’re feisty, you bite back like a feral dog he picked up from the streets, unruly yet smart. You see through some of his tactics, but miss others, falling straight at it and ending up skimming under his boot, wounded and yelping. 

He likes hearing you yip and bark, snide remarks turned to tearful mewls. He doesn’t harm you, he leaves that to his men until he comes to stop them, posing as your saviour. He specialises in psychological warfare as well as guerilla warfare done on a grander scale, breaking down the morals of his enemies and causing a break in their mental fortitude with his cruel and sudden attacks with little to no care about citizen casualties. The more chaos he causes, the better.

You power through his manipulation and control of the scenario for a while, seeing through his saviour charade and hissing at him, backing away from his touch. He likes that fight in you, mind overheating like the engines of old cars, working to find the gaps in his plans, the small mistakes you could use against him. But he had none, he accounted for everything to keep you.

Makarov won’t force himself on you, he’s subtle, making you ask for it, making you think it was your idea. It might take a month or two, but he’s a patient man, waiting for your mind to confuse reality and delusions, push you to think that he truly cared for you. Look at what he did for you, he took you away from death, the danger of fighting on the front lines and the danger of men and women who might want to take advantage of you. 

He’s your saviour. He gave you a house to live comfortably, a big bed where he could hold you after being cornered by his men, he handles you so gently and he cares for you. Where are the friends and family you spoke so fondly about? He’ll berate it into your mind that they never came, they thought that you were dead and never searched for your body. You were forgotten, a buried memory that he replaced with another so quickly that it insulted him. 

What he doesn’t tell you is that he faked the body, planted your dog tags on the unidentifiable body and left it for them to find. That didn’t stop them, they were determined to get you back, but he thwarted them at every step, stopping them from finding you and taking his new obsession away from him. He’s a possessive man, he takes care of what he calls his as long as they’re useful. 

And when you let Makarov in, it’s the best moment in years, everything he put into you, the time, the effort and the scheming, finally came to fruition. You’re teetering on the edge of oblivion and subservience, you’d forgotten the world outside of your relationship with him, content with being under his warm body, leaving yourself to his pleasure.

Give it a year and he’d have you eating out of his hand, becoming an asset he could trust to send out and come back home bruised and bloodied, hair matted and bags under your eyes from exhaustion, but you’d be successful, holding the head of your target in hand as proof of your success. 

You were more than just an object of pleasure and assassination, you were his doll, a puppet on strings that he controls. He dictates every step, he chooses every decision and he makes every plan. You are his to control and to own until you lose your functionality. 

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders

[matan4il]

IDK how to write today's update post. There were so many things I meant to include info about, but now everything pales in the face of the terrible news we got this morning.

At least 24 Israeli soldiers were killed in the last 24 hours in Gaza.

Here are the faces of some of them:

The terrorists responsible for most of these deaths, attacked in a spot just 600 meters (0.37 miles, with the border breached on Oct 7 in the middle) from a southern Israeli community, Kissufim.

[this paragraph is for the people spewing hate, on and off anon : if you read the news and smiled to yourself, or felt any kind of joy, I want you to know that's vile. It's devoid of any morality or humanity. You can tell yourself and others that you're for human rights all you want, but if you feel joy at the death of human beings, human beings who had the right to live (and would have lived, had it not been for the terrible massacre Hamas carried out on Oct 7, which the terrorists promised to recreate repeatedly, targeting Israelis and Jews alike), then you're not for human rights. It's just an excuse you use to be able to publicly celebrate the death of Jews, and of non-Jewish citizens of the Jewish state who defend their fellow Jews. It's just the same, age old antisemitism under a new guise]

IDK how to explain what that number does to me, as an Israeli, as a Jew, as the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors.

I still remember the morning of Oct 7, as the news started pouring in. First, just talking about the rockets, they had no confirmation of casualties yet. Then, we got the news of one elderly woman, killed by a rocket as she left her home to open the communal bomb shelter for others to use. Then suddenly it was 5 dead, then 10, then 22, along with the news that Palestinian terrorists from Gaza have invaded Israel's south.

And I knew then that the number is going to be higher. The way it normally goes with news of terrorist attack, is you first get a big number, those killed immediately or shortly after the attack, and then there are a few more wounded who don't make it. Basically, there's a big number, and then a small adjustment. Something like... first hearing about the 10 immedaite casualties of an attack, then the number is adjusted to 12 or 13 in the following hours, or days. But here, the jump in the number of dead from 10 to 22 told me we're not in the "small adjustment phase" yet. We're still in the "counting the initial big number phase."

That was so hard, because 22 was already hard to deal with. Up until Oct 7, if I remember correctly, we had lost 38 people in 2023 to Palestinian terrorism. That was already considered the bloodiest year in terms of terrorism victims since the second intifada. People were already grieving, asking questions about what was going on, talking about how the renewal of certain (American) funding to Palestinians (such as the Palestinian Authority's Pay for Slay program) was causing this surge in murderous activity, and what can be done to change the situation. To lose 22 people in one day meant that the number of 2023 terrorism victims was almost doubled already... and we were not yet done counting our dead. The grief and loss of almost 9 months and change almost doubled in a day... and it was likely about to grow.

The number of dead kept rising. We jumped from 22 to 50. From 50 to 100. Then 200. Still no sign of getting to the "small adjustment phase" and it was hard to breathe with every new update. We got to 300, and it was almost unbearable. Then 450. A jump of 150 dead. There was no way to process it, no way to really comprehend it, and the worst was always that the jumps in numbers between updates meant we're still in the "counting the initial big number phase." Somewhere after 600 and before the next update, I realized from an interview (nothing official, just the implication of what one person, who was in the know, said) that it was not going to be less than 1,000 people killed. And I no longer felt like I could contain any of it. The horror, the grief, the shock, the struggle to comprehend that this is real, and not the worst nightmare I've ever had.

At least 1,200 people were murdered during Hamas' massacre. It's been over 3 months, and when I write that I didn't know how to contain everything I was feeling back then, I still don't. So you might think, what's 24 people in comparison to 1,200 dead? But that's not how it works. The death of one person does not pale in comparison with the death of the many.

When I work on Holocaust research, and I work on the testimony of one Jewish girl, who had to watch her father being beaten in front of her eyes by Nazi-collaborating Italian fascist soldiers in a concentration camp in Libya, in northern Africa, when I try to process what the murder of just one parent, just one person means to her, I know it's the destruction of her whole world. It doesn't lessen the pain, that the number of Jewish Holocaust victims outside of Europe is "just" in the thousands, while in Europe it's in the millions. One death can in itself be impossible to bear.

And here's the thing. Those deaths and their impact accumulate. We didn't just learn today that we lost 24 soldiers. We lost 24 worlds (because as the Jewish saying goes, "He who kills one person, it's as if he killed the entire world, and he who saves one person, it's as if he saved the whole world," Mishna Sanhedrin 4.5) and we lost them as a part of now over 220 soldiers we lost in this war (see below a map of Israel with a red dot for every place where at least one soldier was killed), which was forced upon us with the murder and destruction of over 1,200 worlds, which comes after 75 years of a conflict we didn't want, in which we lost 28,000 worlds, and that followed a genocide in which we lost at least 6,000,000 worlds, and that in itself is the peak of almost two thousand years of persecution, during which the full and total number of Jews lost, of worlds destroyed just because of antisemitism, will never be known. All I know is that the Jews we know today, we're not the Jewish people. We are what's left of the Jewish people. And we will live. Am Yisrael Chai. Always. In the face of countless attempts at our destruction, we're still here. But we remember them all. Every single soul lost. Every world destroyed. Every child that had been murdered, every child that will never get to be born. We have lost 24 worlds today, and the fact that we have lost so many before, only makes the loss worse.

And we would not have lost a single person in the fighting in Gaza if we had actually been guilty of the crimes they accuse us of. We could have wiped out all of Gaza from the air, without risking the life of a single soldier on the ground. Every one of the Israeli soldiers killed, died to protect Israelis, as well as to save Palestinian civilians.

The way I feel right now, I think about the words of one member of Kissufim who I heard today: "We are broken, but strong."

May the memory of those lost be a blessing, every single one of them, every Jewish person, and non-Jew killed for standing with Jews, in every generation.

You're all still with me, I carry all of you in my heart, always.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[komoboko]

𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

ft: Obanai Iguro, Muichiro Tokito, Tomioka Giyu

angst ・major manga spoilers ・hurt no comfort ・major character deaths ・they are COOKED

# obanai ! ☆

When Muzan attacked, Obanai knew that casualties would be inevitable, he never thought you would be one of them.

He can remember those few moments before muzan was finally released once more. He could tell you was nervous, fearful kaburamaru could tell to. Despite how bad things looked you tried to encourage the morale of the mob of slayers. He knew they were all cheering for the end of muzan, even if it meant the end of their lives. He could tell you knew this to. He regrets not being able to tell you knew you were cheering for the end of your life as well.

He regrets not taking a good look at you before everything happened, not being able to take in your features for a final time before his vision was taken away from him brutally. If not for Kaburamaru by his side, he wouldn't of been able to find you to say goodbye. Your body lays limp in your arms, he could not tell what injuries you were suffering from but with the amount of blood that stained his fingers he knew they were fatal. Your voice cracked as you could only say a few things.

The battle behind him was loud, the sound of war cries echoed in his ear, slayers yelling for help, bodies being rag-dolled as the casualties rise up in numbers and the amount of fighters left drops dramatically. He stares off until he feels your hand wrap around his, despite your grave state your hand feels soft, warm, still filled with so much love like when you held his hands before when you knew you would see another day. The only words you can utter were "You must fight." There wasn't anything else that needed to be said. He hesitates before nodding his head, he wish he could see ur smile as he stands with kaburamaru being his sense of direction. He'll fight as long as there is blood in his body if it means you can rest peacefully after death.

# muichiro ! ☆

The infinity castle was an unforgiving place, only the best of the best could step foot in this place. Some would say it's suicide to be the one standing against them. Muichiro wished you listened to the rumors and stayed back with the rest of the corps.

Uppermoon one has been a demon to prowl the land longer than many can remember. Kokushibo was the apex predator when it came to demons. Muichiro's ancestor. The boy has never and will never see the creature as somebody who started his family tree. He swore he would end the terror he caused no matter the cost. He still wish he could take back his request. He'll never forget the gory sight of your blood splashing onto his face. He only could see kokushibo sword slashing a new attack, a much stronger form of moon breathing, seemingly meant for him.

Muichiro couldn't figure out why you saved him, why did you step in for him? His body shakes as he watches your body drop to the ground as he only falls to grab your form as Gyomei and Sanemi step in. Muichiro doesn't even realize the tears streaming from his face until your bloodstain hand moves to wipe the tears from his cheek. Your fingers tracing his cheek as blood only leaves a mark that Muichiro has no plans to remove. Blood bubbles from your mouth as the slash going through your upper body only gushes more. He can feel your heart beating slower and slower. The only words that escape his mouth is "why?"

A faint smile spreads across your lips as you stare back up at him. "You'll know eventually." you mutter as the life that used to be more abundant fades as he knows there is no saving you now. His hands shake as he lets go of your form, reaching out for his blade as he sees his comrades fight tooth and nail against the beast itself. He stands as he stares back at your body once more before looking back down at his own injuries. It's okay. He knows he'll be with you soon, he knows he doesn't have much time left.

# giyu ! ☆

Giyu stares at the sun rising higher up into the sky. As Tanjiro body returns back to his own, leaving Muzan and his never ending army to crumble he can breath properly. A deep breath to leave the stress an adrenaline of the battle behind. The sound of footsteps catches his attention as he turns around. Your shadow looms over in the distance as you limp towards the black haired male. Blood pouring out from all around your body, as your face turns pale. Giyu can only rush over to you in distress to catch your body incase your knees gave out.

Laying you down with your body propped up to asses your injuries, he tries to call out for a medic but he can only yell so much before you grab his arm to get him to stop. You knew you were far pass saving, you could tell that deep down Giyu knew this to. He only stares at you as despair starts to fill his face as your eyes drift back towards the cliffside. The sun still rises up higher in the air as your almost sure it now shines brighter with every demon disintegrating underneath it.

"The sun shines brighter knowing this is all over, no?" You ask the black haired male who only now sits besides you. His eyes drift towards you before he nods taking in the sunrsie as well. You stare at his features before looking at his demon slayer mark, a sigh leaves your lips as your shoulders untense and your heart pumps slower. "You don't have much time left yourself do you." You blurt out as giyu hand goes to grasp yours as he can't seem to answer you properly.

"Live as much as you can in the time you have left for me, alright?" Giyu turns to you as a soft and fragile smile appears on his lips as he begins to cradle your form. Holding you close as the final strand of life left in your finally fades away, your body goes limp in his grasp as giyu fails to move. "I will." Is the only words Giyu can mutter as he stares down at your deceased body. It doesn't take much longer for the tears to start dropping down onto your cheek.

[sunseed-fandump]

Let’s talk about Realm of Apathy rq and what I think this means for the next parts of the story.

And this isn’t talking about gameplay or anything like that this is purely from a lore and story perspective.

(Disclaimer that a lot of this is my own opinion and speculation based off of what we have seen so far.)

Based off of the events of Silver Kingdom and Realm of Apathy, I believe we’re really going to start getting a better idea of the extent of the Beasts powers. Their bodies might be crumbled, their spirits might be sealed, but their WILL is unrestrained; especially now that they’ve been awoken from their eons long slumber.

Twice now we have seen a Beast Cookie either completely alter reality to suit their own whims (Shadow Milk Cookie to the Faerie Kingdom) or create/maintain an entire plane of existence separate from the Real World. (Mystic Flour Cookie with the Ivory Pagoda and pretty much most of what we see in Episode 4)

The only other time we have seen this so far - to my knowledge - is Moonlight Cookie and her imperative role in maintaining the Dream World.

I wouldn’t be surprised if every Beast was capable of exerting their Will like this and creating entire domains.

This, to me, is truly a testament of their power; and if this is what they’re capable on only HALF of their original power??? Holy shit. It’s no wonder the Witches had to step in when they did. There was no way the cookies of the distant past would have been able to compete against LITERAL GODS.

Thankfully, now there’s a more even playing field.

What does this mean for the story going forward?

Well I’m not 100% certain, but I’m pretty sure with the next few Beast Updates we may or may not see their respective “domains” or realms. Representations of who they are and their ultimate desires.

I believe what we’ve seen from Mystic Flour Cookie wasn’t real, however what was shown in ep 4 was what she DESIRED to do when she obtained the means to do so (getting Dark Cacao's Resolution).

Remember, the Beasts are still in the Silver Tree. They can’t affect the real world until they are out. Shadow Milk Cookie couldn’t do so until he was able to break out during the events of episodes 1 + 2, and the moment he was sealed back up, all the circus stuff vanished. (The only wrench in the works here would be the Pale Ailment which spurred Dark Cacao Cookie into showing up to Beast-Yeast at all. The Fog was very much Real. However, considering the low number of casualties listed off by the apothecary at the end of Ep 4, AND the fact they were able to find a cure for it at all, makes me believe that this was a VERY WEAK version of what Mystic Flour had in mind.)

But you know what they CAN do??? Mentally assault and torment their Ancient Hero counterparts.

Just some food for thought :)

tl;dr: The Heroes are boutta go THROUGH IT and are gonna get BULLIED by a bunch of OLD ANGRY GHOSTS.