#thats my reaction to this chapter

[ququoquaw]

wow denji.

[rox-of-iu]

ayoo guess who finally sat down and caught up with cultivate B)

is me. so you know what that means.

spoiler warning for cultivate ch 30-37

there was actually.... more things i wanted to draw but I already did so many I had to physically restrain myself hfsjkkdh anyway yes can you tell i love this fic very much

yet once again. cultivate by the wonderful @neonghostcat

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

yakou furio's character is so tragic to me. i wanna meme about how they used the fridged wife trope but other than that it's like. he lost his family and later all of his coworkers and just. existed alone for years.

looking at the state the submarine and especially his bedroom was in, with everything being a mess and all the cigarette butts in his bed, yakou was clearly depressed. he wouldn't even take on any interesting cases to fulfill his passion as a detective because he was so afraid of the peacekeepers. instead he just kept his head down. surviving but not actually living.

and then he finally gets some new detectives to work at his agency and the first thing he can do is fail to save most of them from dying horribly. but the five that yakou did manage to save latch onto him and he starts getting into a leader role! even if his new coworkers are all rowdy and get into trouble they still respect him as a leader and look up to him.

the detectives keep picking fights with the peacekeepers that yakou has been trying so hard to dodge. and usually the resolution is kind of messed up because the victims die but the detectives prove themselves capable of handling the peacekeepers! they're helping people! for the first time in a while, yakou comes toe to toe with peacekeepers willingly, to help his new friends. he realizes that he is able to stand up against amaterasu corp, with the help of the others.

but by the time he realizes this, the stage has already been set. the letter from yomi turned his grief into anger and a thirst for vengeance. although yomi gave him the information and opportunity, yakou was ultimately the one who chose to murder the man who murdered his wife.

yakou has already rebuilt his life after his wife's death. the detectives at his agency look up to him and he would do anything for them. it would never be the same as the life he had with his wife but yakou had the chance to turn over a new leaf with a new found family who cares about him.

but instead, yakou plans a murder. he needs to die, over and over, in order to access the man he wants to kill and he accepts it. he needs to trick two kids, who look up to him and who he cares for, into becoming his accomplices to the murder and he accepts it. in the wake of forcing his detectives to witness his murder, he needs leave them in a lab filled with peacekeepers who want to kill them and he accepts it.

and it's not that he doesn't care about his detectives. yuma and halara disobeyed his orders and assaulted several peacekeepers, and he was willing to be arrested himself before throwing his employees under the bus. yuma and fubuki were implicated in terrorism and yakou and the others solve the case for them, then prepare to fight an army of peacekeepers to protect yuma.

for his murder plan, yakou only needs desuhiko and fubuki's powers. but he brings halara and vivia along as well because they would be able to protect the two younger detectives and fight their way out of the lab after yakou dies. he enacts his plan on a day that yuma wasn't around because he won't be able to help fight peacekeepers, so it's better to just keep him out of this mess. he covers up his murder-suicide to protect his detective's feelings, but also because they would be implicated as his accomplices if his plan was revealed.

and yakou probably expected that the other detectives would be fine. if they'd left him behind to die, the other detectives probably would have been able to either fight their way out or hide out in the lab a bit longer and figured out a good plan to escape. if yakou had his way, he would have gotten his revenge and his detectives would have gone home grief-stricken, but unharmed and forever unaware of their roles in his death.

but yakou doesn't account for the fact that the other detectives would try to save his life. yuma doesn't run after the hitman and escape the peacekeepers, he stays behind to beg yomi to help yakou. fubuki uses up all her energy to rewind time to try to prevent yakou's death instead of helping the others escape the lab. halara, vivia, and desuhiko not only have to fight off peacekeepers, but they also have to carry yakou to a hiding spot to give first aid. and instead of calmly planning their next move, everyone is desperate to solve the case so there would be any chance of getting yakou to a hospital as quickly as possible.

one major theme of rain code is that despite tragedies that may have happened in the past, people can work together with those they care about to live a better life in the future. and yakou could have had that. his wife's death should have stayed in the past, and he should have continued to mentor the other detectives, solving mysteries together and enjoying each other's companies.

but yakou couldn't let the past stay in the past. he had every chance to not go through with his murder. he has new people he loves, but he manipulates them and puts them in danger in order to get back at the person who killed the last person he loved. his victory was a pyrrhic one. he got his revenge but in return, he destroyed himself and his detectives' trust in him. he enjoyed his revenge momentarily before dying and leaving his new family, who he used their love and trust for him to his advantage, to pick up the pieces.

yakou furio had lost everything in the past. but in trying to pursue it he destroyed everything he had in the present. that's the tragedy of his character to me.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

shes his anchor..... :(

[jonahmagnus]

HOW ARE THEY SO

[fruitybashir]

"slow burn but also they're having sex the whole time" is such a mood haha, I'll be honest I did not see the friends with benefits twist coming and I am living for it! Such stupid stupid boys (affectionate)

haha yeah i was wondering how many people were gonna be surprised by that twist :D

i purposely didnt put it in the tag from the start so i could start adding stuff as it is happening each chapter instead of giving everything thats planned away from the beginning 😗😚

[nihiltism]

ok so while my ds is getting sand poured into it at alarming rates I'm thinking about how jrpgs in specific have a really weird desync with How Important Death Is. like some address it better than others but it very frequently happens where if you take a step back youll go "am I wild or is everybody just like, Really down with murder in this game". and consequences for said murder, especially in a characterization sense but even just actual physical consequences, don't really happen? unless it's a vehicle for conflict but like. when it is a vehicle for conflict it feels weird because why are These Guys actually taking the fact we killed somebody in broad daylight seriously and coming after us for it while all the other npcs and even the main party took it like it was another saturday evening

see I Think where the issue lies is in the fact that everything is in its own little world when you're in a battle? like. when you fight an enemy and you get leather out of it it's seen as something the enemy Drops and not. their hide. when you defeat a character in a battle it does just feel like you Defeated them. unless there's dialogue afterwards that says otherwise you don't even mentally assume you killed em you just wounded them enough to make them flee or dissolve or whatever. and it's Weird to just. have that assumption there because for a lot of games it really isn't clear if you're killing them or defeating them !!

that last point is extra important when you have the specific brand of Skittish Hero / Noble Hero Who Doesn't Kill People / Rational Hero In Way Over Their Head or whatever where you really don't think they Would kill a guy just to get them out of the way. in that case it's REALLY weird because it's hardly brought up. even if it Is brought up that that guy Sure Did Die the mc doesn't tend to actually have a reaction ??? and I don't know why this is ???? like Any written reaction would be more interesting than nothing even if the guy doesn't have a full on crisis about taking another life having them go "oh shit, The Consequences" would be nice. really anything except (oh cool we can advance the plot now).

I will also mention that Some deaths do matter plot wise but very frequently what makes them matter is how much of it is linked to an in game battle I think. if your mc just finishes a fight and comes back to the overworld and the guy's Disappeared or Dissolved or whatever it means they don't matter. if the guy's still around after the fight it means it's more significant, especially if they're still alive but wounded or Really Shaken Up. because this clears up the indistinguishable line between if a battle is lethal or not and if a character decides to deal a finishing blow now it's Way more telling of their character. even though this is basically the same thing that happened in the (killed In A Battle) scenario. just with more dialogue. I will also mention that the person who deals the finishing blow is Rarely Ever that good hearted protagonist and often they'll even go :0 at somebody else committing a murder despite them instigating and helping murder quite a few people. just. In Battle. so it's less bad. I guess.

this is leaving out the fact that in party deaths are often a Major Major Blow because like. ok that's fair. that's A Guy You Knew that's understandable. anyway I don't really know where I'm going with this I just think it's interesting how in these types of games death can swap from not mattering at all to mattering a Lot and if u don't think about it too hard u don't even question it. I'll probably be putting some examples in the tags idk

[sepostscreencaps]

Cutting Edge Cover Art for Soul Eater post chapter 28

[motto-chanto-itte]

WHAT THR FUCK. MONODAM. MONODAM NO. IS THIS THE ULTIMATE PUNISHMENT THIS IS DEFINITELY YHE ULTIMATE PUNISHMENT RIGHT. WTF. MONODAM COME BACK. WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. ALL THE OTHER KUMAS CAN GO TO HELL 🤬🤬

[buginateacup]

.

[todayisafridaynight]

What’s the moment in Yakuza that made you go “I’m In.” As in the moment that made you obsessed.

there wasnt ever really one Singular moment that made me go 'ok im obsessed now', it just kinda gradually happened and now here we are almost a year later

[soft-spooks]

HE IS JUST.... RLLY CUTE .....

[rise-my-angel]

the real question is does this mean we get modern au part 3???

I thought about it, but I have no idea of a plot yet. Literally all I've come up with is possible smut because I am a degenerate smut writer deep down.

[fedoranon]

"average reader enjoys 200k of pre relationship fluff" is a statistical error. average reader enjoys roughly 40k of pre relationship. slow burn eli, who cheerfully reads 500k before the protagonist even realizes he might be interested in a relationship, is an outlier and shouldn't be counted

[snow-system-wol]

Covers S'ria (and co.) in the 6.0 quests in Garlemald from "How the Mighty have Fallen" to "No Good Deed", sticking to canon events.

Ao3 link

Warnings:

minor descriptions of injuries

panic attack / being triggered

quest-typical levels of depressing

S'ria had thought he was past much of the long-ingrained hatred, whittled away through years of time spent with Cid, Lucia, Maxima – hell, even Gaius. He was fully prepared to help Garlemald, knowing that civilians had hardly done anything wrong (gods knew the propaganda could be incessant) and they did not deserve the brutality and the tempering foisted upon them by the Telophoroi.

That resolve did not last as long as he'd have liked in the face of loyal Garleans, whose minds were yet their own and still utterly consumed by the words their empire had fed them. S'ria could blame the constantly bitter chill for eroding his sanity and patience, but he feared that he hadn't approached this as openly as he'd intended.

But gods, the mistrust would've put anyone on edge.

Licinia's initial accusation was interesting – that their magics and the ones destroying the minds of her fellow countrymen were one in the same. S'ria wondered whether that was merely a knee-jerk reaction borne of ignorance, or if that was a rumor that had actively been sown to breed further xenophobia. It seemed an important distinction, to know what opposition they may face.

They calmed though, and accepted aid – maybe. There was an animosity that was so barely concealed, and S'ria knew full well that their desire to simply "help" would be met with skepticism at best. He loved the twins dearly, but he feared that Alphinaud's earnest altruism may only put them more on edge – better to seem a little more… believable. Telling them that they hoped for any not loyal to the Telophoroi to survive, simply to spite their enemy, would likely be accepted long before a truly charitable explanation would.

Possibly. Or maybe it would've made things worse.

S'ria knew Licinia was hiding something – someone – but what was he to do about that? The voice he heard didn't sound overly distressed, just weak, so he doubted it was any kind of captive… and so he left it at that. S'ria didn't understand why any member of their group wouldn't be allowed to take in the warmth of the fire with the rest of them, but that seemed far too much of a thing to press at this very delicate stage.

Meeting the tappers was an almost welcome break from interacting with those at Victor's Spoils, if only to speak with some people who greeted their group with less hostility. Ah, well, less hostility after they tried to kill him, but it was a misunderstanding and no one had died, so fair was fair.

A part of S'ria was, illogically, almost jealous of this group. The labour was hard and they hadn't had a chance to leave the country even now, but S'ria couldn't help but think… if he had been brought to Garlemald for this sort of work instead, perhaps things would've been different. But he was a weak child then, it would never have been his fate anyway.

The walk back made S'ria suddenly conscious of the fact that Alisaie being by his side meant Alphinaud was alone, and seeing the area by the fire unattended was enough to make his breath quicken.

S'ria supposed maybe they should've known better, but the point was that they were out here to try.

Trying had led to Alphinaud clutching his should while blood seeped through his fingers, stood over a group of injured but still very much alive attackers. It was only with a great deal of reminding himself that the aggressors were subdued that S'ria managed to calm himself. No more violence was needed here.

Oh, how S'ria had not missed Garlean sensibilities at all – and it concerned him that he suddenly understood and remembered a bit more about their social standards than he had moments prior. Any little bits of knowledge pried from memories would need to not start an avalanche of recalling, not here, not now.

The word that stuck with him so much was "purity". There was so much emphasis put on purity of one's heritage, on being a trueblooded Garlean and anything else was undeserving of dignity. (And despite the fact that they treated mixed race offspring with little more regard than they did their mothers, they seemed ill-inclined to avoid such things during their occupation.) That status was a coveted trait…as if there was anything pure about it to maintain.

And yet, these lot claimed that anything was better than allowing their magics or their ways to taint them, that it was an act so fundamentally wrong that any proper Garlean would sooner die. They seemed very determined to have their way on that one. The two missing sisters didn't bode…very well.

He wasn't yet at the point of saying that those who seemed so determed to die should be left to it – but for gods' sake, what was even going to happen when they found the girls? What then?

S'ria was hesitant to leave Alphinaud behind to heal himself and the others – the attempts to heal them via magical means may just provoke more violence rather than allowing him to help – but he could handle himself now that they'd lost the element of surprise. The sisters certainly wouldn't benefit from S'ria loitering around at Victor's Spoils.

(To the Victor go the damn Spoils, indeed – and the prize was nothing kind.)

If it wasn't so damn far below freezing, the tracks leading across the ice would've put terrifying images in S'ria's head. Drowning in a frozen lake seemed a horrific way to go. The ice seemed frozen for at least a fulm down at least and was fully solid under his feet. He was glad that neither his last moments nor Licinia's would be spent in water so cold that your lungs refused to draw air even if you found the surface again.

On some level, S'ria had known that it was hopeless even before they'd started to search. Perhaps it was better that it wasn't a near miss. There was no "just a minute faster" to question here, these bodies were ice cold – even in this temperature, it wouldn't be so quick. It hurt, but not as badly as it could've. It'd been… a humane enough death, all things considered. Just entirely unnecessary. It was a brief punch in the gut and then he could breathe again – maybe it helped that he'd never really expected this search to go well.

S'ria wished the same could be said of the twins. They seemed devastated, and S'ria would've taken some of that turmoil off their shoulders if he could've. The gods knew they'd blame themselves for this. From the moment their postures had changed upon processing the scene, S'ria had wanted to draw them close – but who knew if that would go over well, with both of them in a state that rivaled the worst he'd seen either of them in. The closest he could compare to was Tesleen and the Crystal Braves for each of them, and S'ria did not want to make either of them feel worse.

Alphinaud wanted the bodies properly taken care of. S'ria wasn't sure that was for the best, to return carrying bodies, but Alphinaud was not likely to walk away without trying to do what little was left. S'ria could honor that.

Licinia would not have liked to have been buried with the aid of magic. It was more for the twins than for her that S'ria labored to drive a shovel through permafrost, but neither did he wish his last action here to be one of disrespect. He felt eyes on the back of his neck the entire time. Did they even bury their dead in Garlemald? Perhaps they did something else entirely, like cremation or the like, and this was only another misstep.

So be it.

It was a painfully cold walk back. What had Lucia promised him for his search efforts? Warm soup upon his return? S'ria hardly had an appetite, but he'd take the warmth all the same. After this many hours, he felt near frozen through.

It felt odd. During this trip so far, S'ria been (to put it bluntly) the psychological weak link of the group. He was very aware of the fact that he was somehow doing better than Alphinaud and Alisaie in this exact moment, and that was…alarming. For all of Alisaie's boldness and Alphinaud's pragmatism, somehow they'd both refused to explain to Lucia what had happened. S'ria would not begrudge them this one, it was an easy enough burden to accept, telling her in their stead.

He tried his best to stay objective, even if his ability to do so wavered throughout his report. Lucia was never easy to read, as meticulously stoic as she could be at times, but there was something in her expression that S'ria didn't know how to interpret by the time he was done explaining.

They all needed food and rest.

What they did not need was Jullus. It felt as though they were having two damn conversations – one where they offered to let him leave with supplies and a separate one where Jullus felt that there were negotiations occurring. S'ria couldn't help but feel immensely frustrated every time he opened his mouth.

S'ria knew the twins were going to volunteer and insist on it. He would never let them go alone, of course, but… it was a trap. Just three people only, leaving to an unknown location with a man who so clearly hated them? It was a terrible idea. It was such a terrible idea that Fray clamored over it, seething in the back of his mind with the vague threat to wrench control and let none of the three of them follow through with this. S'ria couldn't blame them, only to hope that they'd let it happen regardless. Even if it was a truly terrible idea that seemed hardly worth it even in the best case scenario.

Perhaps the only thing that made Fray stay their hand was the fact that Jullus seemed to have no idea who any of them were, even S'ria. "A sellsword and two children", indeed.

As they traveled, S'ria once again got the sense that Jullus lived in a reality just adjacent to the one where the rest of them resided, hearing whatever he wanted to hear. S'ria could understand his doubt over any cure for tempering, even if the stance taken was somewhat callous. It was just frustrating, for him to take Alphinaud's admission that they knew not how to fix those whose bodies had been corrupted as proof that no talk of the cure was warranted. S'ria felt they'd been rather clear about the limitations, but no matter – at least the annoyance served to keep his blood pumping a little warmer. And maybe serve as a distraction to his nerves.

His body was quick to reminder him, after all, that he'd hardly had the chance to warm up before heading back out here.

The legatus could've been worse, S'ria supposed, but that wasn't high praise. Quintus was everything S'ria had expected – calmly arrogant and utterly assured of being right. Would they have walked into such as obvious trap if they did not bear good intentions? More importantly, surely the world not ending was enough of an explanation of the Alliance's motivations that foul play need not be immediately suspected? It quickly became clear that nothing would come of this.

Any possibility of common ground being found crashed and burned when Quintus asked Alphinaud – if he cared for peace so much, why would he not advocate for Eorzea submitting to the Empire's rule? If Quintus truly, truly could not comprehend the answer to that question, then there was no point in speaking to each other at all.

Quintus clearly agreed, declaring negotiations over. At least the sound of a dozen soldiers readying their weapons meant that S'ria could stop waiting for things to go wrong. Hostages, that was what had come of whatever this was meant to be – perhaps meant to barter for food and supplies that had already been offered in the first place. They seemed to have no concrete plans yet aside from not allowed them to leave.

If anyone suggested that S'ria should speak to another Garlean faction and try to provide aid or seek common ground, he thought he might just say no next time. He hadn't even been paying very close enough attention to Quintus speaking any longer. He was more concerned with regretfully considered whether Fray intervening back at Camp Broken Glass might've been for the best, so the next words shattering through his mind were met with no preparation.

"Collar them."

S'ria would be hard-pressed to explain what his mind and body felt like for those next few seconds. Time felt very slow as his blood turned to ice in his veins and the adrenaline rush to his head was enough for half his vision to go spotty. The scars on his neck burned with phantom pain of something that blessedly lay just outside of his memories.

No. No. No, this wasn't going to happen. Alisaie and Alphinaud briefly dropped entirely from the equation, with him fully ready to leave them behind to cut his way out of here before a single person could lay a hand on him – or if escape was impossible, at least die before letting someone clamp anything around his neck.

Quintus waved off the soldiers, warning them off from approaching S'ria and he could breathe just faintly easier as he realized they weren't going to try it. Good for their sake, he supposed – the result would not have been bloodless. He could feel the pressure in his skull subside as the frantic attempts of others to wrench control away and engage fight or flight ceased. S'ria wasn't sure which would've stepped in... but allegedly he'd gone completely meek and pliant way back during the Crystal Brave's betrayal, and that seemed the worst possible response in any given situation going forward. That was safely avoided, this time, it was all right.

His lungs tightened anew as he realized they'd considered abandoning Alphinaud and Alisaie while in that blind panic. How could he even think that?

It was clearly obvious to Quintus how much S'ria cared for those two. In the same relief-inducing statement in which he suggested trying to put a collar on S'ria was impractical, he also clarified that their only leash on him would be psychological. And he was entirely correct – S'ria had no desire to see what happened when the shock function was activated, and even less desire to see it demonstrated on someone he cared about.

S'ria wondered how obvious his full body trembling was. He hoped it'd be misinterpreted as rage, or else his mind and flesh were betraying far too many weaknesses to those who likely had no aversion to exploiting them. The dregs of terror along with the rush of relief were a potent cocktail that left him unsteady on his feet and less present than he'd like.

S'ria took back any concessions he had made while taking on this entire mission – tempered or not, there was something deeply wrong with the people that still remained in this country.

----------

Menphina was unsure if S'ria meant for this, which of them had been the catalyst, but perhaps she was brought out by S'ria's concern for the twins. Jullus seemed aware of the change on some level – the Warrior of Light softening around his previously raw edges into a sort of soft worry, S'ria's accent giving way to Menphina's (to say nothing of the noticeable pitch change.)

She wondered what he may think of all this and whether he thought his confusion was well-concealed or not. He'd seemed a touch intimidated to learn who this "sellsword" actually was, so it was surely just more fuel for the fire to hear S'ria's "Limsa-Lominsan-enough-ish" accent slip back into hers, fully unaltered since the last time they were in this country.

She was sure it was not lost on Jullus that she sounded… distinctly more like an upper class Garlean citizen than like those without good lineage or gil. In fact, she spoke not unlike Jullus himself. Of course, no miqo'te would ever have been allowed in that part of their society, so let him make of that what he will.

She'd never explain, if he decided to ask. S'ria was safest if no one who meant them harm knew too much.

Never mind the fact that Zenos already did know to some unknown extent, which was deeply and truly regrettable – though less dangerous than it sounded. What would be a fair more alarming problem was if any of that had found its way to Fandaniel.

Zenos, with their rematch not yet taken, would not intentionally toy with S'ria's triggers in any way that would dull S'ria's edge during the fight – she was reasonably certain at least. If Zenos was to win, he would not want it to feel like he only bested S'ria via the path of least resistance. Killing S'ria while his will to fight was broken seemed just distinctly unsatisfying for his wishes. (Menphina hoped fervently that she was right about that much.) Fandaniel, on the other hand… held no such concerns.

No, Menphina should not be spending so much time worrying about what-ifs while they were in a situation that warranted her full attention.

Perhaps, actually, it would be better if she was left to handle it actually. The words and threats hurt, but she could bear them (better her than S'ria, repeated like a mantra) – it was the fact that she was quite perilously close to being struck that concerned her. She was scared of the pain, yes, that'd never been her burden to bear, but she feared more for what may happen if anyone dared to lash out. Fray would hardly let that go.

If push came to shove, Menphina hoped that someone else would step in if things escalated into violence. She had never learned how to fight. (Maybe that was a mistake. Or maybe it was a mistake to think she could bear to hurt someone.)

Alphinaud's request that they help the ill and wounded was very welcome, a task that she knew how to do and would gladly assist in. She'd been considering it before he even asked… except there was scant little they could do. The unit refused any attempts to secure outside aid, even to keep the weakest of their people alive, supplies were few, and Menphina feared that exercising even her meager amount of white magic would prove… disastrous, the moment her patient realized what was being done. Besides, many of them might never consent to treatment via magical means, and that was not a line she wanted to cross while the wounded remained conscious enough to object.

----------

Ah, while Menphina did want very badly to assist the sick and wounded in whatever way she could, this particular option was… unfortunate. The body already fared so poorly in this climate, so Alisaie's suggestion that they both wade waist-deep into icy waters was borderline horrifying. Despite already shivering while dry, she took off G'raha's scarf and placed it somewhere relatively dry – while G'raha's scent had faded from the fabric by now, Menphina was sure S'ria would be none too pleased if the fabric got dunked in frigid pond sludge.

And sweet hells was it cold. The water was numbingly painful, but being out of it was even worse, with it feeling like any dampness would freeze over instantly. As glad as Menphina was that they'd found something decent to help the people there, she still huddled so close to the fire afterwards that she risked accidentally touching it.

It was always interesting to experience things, with her own past actions having been so limited in scope – interesting but often unpleasant and very strange. If Menphina had an allagan tin piece for every time she'd spoken to Garlean soldiers around a base in S'ria's stead… well, it was just an odd coincidence that it'd happened more than once now.

It wasn't all terrible, once she started to become less frozen through. Jullus wasn't so bad, not nearly as much as S'ria had made him out to be. He was just a kid, really (in her eyes, at least), and training hadn't driven all of the compassion out of him. He was clearly both concerned and grateful for their somewhat hazardous efforts to find ceruleum – even if he might phrase it in ways that sound more pragmatic than that. Jullus was just another grieving young one that wanted his family and home back, same as everyone else in the war, and as long as he didn't take that desire far enough to go to dark places, then Menphina could be okay with that.

While searching for more ceruleum, as startling as it was to hear his voice, Menphina was glad that Thancred and the others were trying to keep an eye on them. (Glad and terrified. She didn't doubt their skills, but Jullus had been very clear that catching anyone following them would have been considered an act of hostility and knowing that Thancred had actually done so was… well, Jullus hadn't noticed him then or now, so it was fine.)

She wasn't sure if there was a plan, or just to sit tight and see. Menphina agreed that their safety and well-being was the most important thing they could maintain – the twins most importantly, in her opinion. Just… she didn't like the situation much. "Whatever demands the Garleans make, indulge them." Menphina knew Thancred didn't mean anything by it, but his choice of phrasing made her stomach twist. It wasn't like that, she had to remind herself – if nothing else, with Jullus as their keeper, he still seemed too principled to condone senseless cruelty (an admirable trait, in wartimes, she'd give that much.)

----------

Shivering in the bunker, S'ria slid back into place with a jolt, nearly bumping into Alphinaud in his brief disorientation. He laughed tiredly.

"I would've hoped to have been warmer by now, but no such luck."

"Oh, S'ria! We'd been concerned. Are you well?" Alisaie seemed genuinely glad to have him back. That was sweet, as long as Menphina hopefully didn't feel any sadness over that reverse side of that idea. It was still... odd for this to be considered a somewhat normal thing, with both himself and others knowing and being okay with these strange moments.

"Yes – just a bit tired and out of it. I remember enough, no need to be concerned." S'ria wrapped his scarf a little more securely around himself. "And damned cold, but you already knew that."

Alphinaud and Alisaie both nodded very resignedly. Yes, with the heaters all but running dry now, it was awful.

S'ria just wished, more than anything else, that being reunited with the twins was not so brief. He'd suspected it would come to this from the first – while Jullus only now changed the twins' status from envoy to prisoner, they'd had the damned collars on the entire time regardless. And the cruelty of everything was just so… why accept freely offered charity for fear of owing anything when one could just take it all by force. As if Alphinaud had not already all but begged the legatus to allow for supplies to be sent for their sick and wounded.

S'ria wasn't sure Jullus could even go through with pressing the button to set off the shock collars, the way his face froze and hands shook. He didn't want to find out, though. For one moment he considered it – lunging to rip the control out of his hands in the hope that it was the only one for this set of collars, removing any chance of them being hurt. But if he was wrong, oh, they would pay the price. S'ria hated to let them out of his sight, alone with only men who hated them, the only protection afforded to them the dubious rights of a hostage. Jullus had guiltily insisted that no harm would come to them if they were compliant, and S'ria wanted so badly to be able to trust those words.

Perhaps, with the twins separated from S'ria, the next person to accuse him of offering an olive branch with ulterior motives would get a different and far clearer answer – that his goodwill had rather run dry, and the only thing that now maintained his willingness to help was honoring the wishes of the kindest among the Scions.

[acid-ixx]

FOAMING IN THE MOUTH AT THE FIRST CHAPTER!! the way you wrote dick still imagining reader as a small child because thats the only time he remembered them as is SO GOOD. i am living for the angst and desperation in this fic, and i can't to see how each of them react to the situation, especially damian because he and reader have the sane blood. when dick texted reader pretending everything is cool and like he didn't ignore them for thirteen years is a such a good concept. i can only imagine reader screaming on the other side because of opening the message accidentally lol. i cant stop thinking about how the reader's reaction to the text message would be like, finally moving on and healing and then boom! the trauma resurfaces and dick having the audacity to reach out while reader is having a breakdown, confused and scared for what'll happen next. sorry for filling up ur inbox!! i wrote a lot more than i thought oops take care of yourself and remember to takes breaks!!!! <3

reader when the self destructive impulses kicks in because of a family they have long gave up on finally started to notice them the moment they have moved on: 😧

no because dick grayson would infantilize you to the max. not in a "you're a toddler" way but rather he sees you as his innocent baby that he failed to guide and protect. he truly wants you to see him as the same person you view him as years ago, not wanting to be any less in the eyes of his baby bird <3

he'll admit that the things he's done is a shit move, constantly denying you when his entire schedule is flexible for the family but you.

so he should've expected to be blocked, but he just can't stomach it at all that his baby bird didn't even hesitate to cut him off in an instant! it just furthers his protective nature to a t and if it wasn't for damian suddenly appearing by the door, dick would've spiraled into insanity deeper.

what i mean by insanity is; he wouldn't sleep for days tracking you down, then he'll take you away from your wretched home and bring you back rightfully where you belong.

meanwhile, on the other side of gotham, you'd be on the verge of a panic attack, nearly splurging your guts out and trying to calm yourself with relaxation techniques. you quite literally couldn't walk straight without stumbling to the bathroom because holy shit imagine your brother whom you haven't nearly talked to for years suddenly called you! with cryptic messages no less that never implied your family's years of neglect towards you. i would be smashing my phone across the room, to be honest.

the moment he's turned a full yandere, damian would be really deep into the "blood is thicker than water" ideology when it comes to you. he'll apologize to you, glare plastered on his face and all, but compared to the others, his apology sounds so genuine yet condescending at the same time. you both are of the same blood, save for the fact that you share different mothers but that doesn't matter— he should be the favorite.

not dick, not jason, not tim, or anybody else for that matter. and he'll be shoving it in your face that he's the youngest so you should be obligated to baby him. and even if you dare make a point on how he had called you immature for your age multiple times, damian would find a way to guilt trip you and it would always fucking work. to avoid further spoilers, i wouldn't want to expand on his character traits but damian would be the worst type of pain in the ass, near the levels of dick.