#throw that man OUT he cannot be salvaged

[keeps-ache]

watched Pride and Prejudice and Zombies 👍

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

first day as the envoy of Yan, and i have a brilliant, amazing, fool-proof plan to assassinate the warmongering tyrant of Qin. I've got the head of a famous general inside a box, a poison dagger hidden inside a map and my backup is ruthless murderer who killed a man at age 13. mark my words, this day will go down in history!

update: my backup got cold feet and became catatonic with fear the moment we set foot in the palace. i quickly spun a story about him being a country bumpkin who was suffering culture shock but now the guards are suspicious and i have to approach the throne room alone--well, mostly alone. Oh, General-Inside-A-Box, we're really in it now.

update: the Warmonger laughed at my joke! i am going to get a good evaluation for regicide, which is normal to want and possible to achieve.

update: it's time to present the map. my palms are sweaty, knees weak and this scroll feels so heavy. i regret eating so much of my niang's dalu mian beforehand because someone didn't put enough salt inside this box and the general (heaven rest his brave soul) is starting to smell and to be honest it's making me a little nauseous. the fear rises in my gullet, strong and acrid, threatening to choke me, but i force it down and put on a brave front, like a swan on a tranquil lake, kicking like mad underneath. this is my one opportunity and i cannot let it slip away. Yan too small to meet the might of this tyrant in open battle. for the sake of my people and all that i love, i must prevail.

update: i missed.

update: i am now chasing the Warmonger around the throne room. he cant unsheathe his Hugely Impractical Ceremonial Sword and none of his ministers are permitted to carry weapons so they just stand on the sidelines yelling advice. eventually the court physician comes to his senses and throws his medicine bag at me, giving the Warmonger an opening to finally get his sword out and cut me down. i throw my knife at him (also missed) as a final act of defiance but frankly speaking, there's not much face left to salvage here. when i enter the afterlife, the general is laughing so hard his head almost falls off again. i am never going to live this down.

update: I go down in history as a hero and one of the Five Great Assassins. really makes you wonder about the other four.

update: oh my god! my best friend is here too! what a sight for sore eyes, i can't wait to catch up and play some tunes with him!

notes under the cut:

The story takes place in 228 BC, the King of Qin is in the middle of a brutal war of conquest. In the span of just ten years (In 230--221 BC) he will unify china and become the first Emperor (the terracotta warriors belong to him). He will go down in history as both a cruel tyrant and brilliant statesman, to call him influential is to say the Yangtze river is "just a big puddle."

Jing ke -- (the assassin) originally hails from the state of Wei, which was conquered by Qin, afterwards he became a retainer of Yan and joined the plot to seek revenge. I simplified the story a lot for the sake of narrative clarity.

General Huan Yi -- former general of Qin who lost favour with the King. In an absolute bro move, he agreed to commit suicide and let his head be used as a "gift" for the assassination attempt. I couldn't find any sources on how severed heads were preserved during this time, but drying + curing with salt seemed pretty reasonable so i went with that.

yes, i did just combine the Second Century Warlord with Eminem to create an unholy abomination that is the deepest of deep cuts. 娘 Niáng -- [Mum] considered archaic 打卤面 Dǎ lǔ miàn--braised noodles

Jing Ke's buddy Gao Jianli (who is a famous musician) ALSO tries to kill King Qin to avenge his friend's death. He was recognised and blinded before his first attempt, but was allowed to stay. During this time, he ingratiated himself with the king and hid weights inside his instrument, biding his time until he could get close enough to take a swing (spoiler: he also missed).

[lightgaswaterelectricityrent]

Reporters tantalized their readers with stories about the “plutocratic Osage” and the “red millionaires,” with their brick-and-terra-cotta mansions and chandeliers, with their diamond rings and fur coats and chauffeured cars. One writer marveled at Osage girls who attended the best boarding schools and wore sumptuous French clothing, as if “une très jolie demoiselle of the Paris boulevards had inadvertently strayed into this little reservation town.”

Many of the Osage would rush to see a gusher when it erupted, scrambling for the best view, making sure not to cause a spark, their eyes following the oil as it shot fifty, sixty, sometimes a hundred feet in the air. With its great black wings of spray, arcing above the rigging, it rose before them like an angel of death. The spray coated the fields and the flowers and smeared the faces of the workers and the spectators. Still, people hugged and tossed their hats in celebration. Bigheart, who had died not long after the imposition of allotment, was hailed as the “Osage Moses.” And the dark, slimy, smelly mineral substance seemed like the most beautiful thing in the world.

A short, stout man, with a luxuriant mustache and a shock of red hair, Burns had once aspired to be an actor, and he cultivated a mystique, in part by writing pulp detective stories about his cases. In one such book, he declared, “My name is William J. Burns, and my address is New York, London, Paris, Montreal, Chicago, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Seattle, New Orleans, Boston, Philadelphia, Cleveland, and wherever else a law-abiding citizen may find need of men who know how to go quietly about throwing out of ambush a hidden assassin or drawing from cover criminals who prey upon those who walk straight.”

Meanwhile, Ernest’s aunt was muttering, loud enough for all to hear, about how mortified she was that her nephew had married a redskin. It was easy for Mollie to subtly strike back because one of the servants attending to the aunt was white—a blunt reminder of the town’s social order.

Hoover demanded that his staff wear dark suits and sober neckties and black shoes polished to a gloss. He wanted his agents to be a specific American type: Caucasian, lawyerly, professional. Every day, he seemed to issue a new directive—a new Thou Shall Not—and White put on his big cowboy hat with an air of defiance.

Blackie, evidently enjoying himself, looked squarely at Burkhart and said, “Ernest, I have told them everything.”

The judge advised the jury members that they must set aside sympathies or prejudices for either side. He warned, “There never has been a country on this earth that has fallen except when that point was reached…where the citizens would say, ‘We cannot get justice in our courts.’ ”

In 1932, the bureau began working with the radio program The Lucky Strike Hour to dramatize its cases. One of the first episodes was based on the murders of the Osage...The broadcasted radio program concluded, “So another story ends and the moral is identical with that set forth in all the others of this series….[The criminal] was no match for the Federal Agent of Washington in a battle of wits.”

The historian Burns once wrote, “To believe that the Osages survived intact from their ordeal is a delusion of the mind. What has been possible to salvage has been saved and is dearer to our hearts because it survived. What is gone is treasured because it was what we once were. We gather our past and present into the depths of our being and face tomorrow. We are still Osage. We live and we reach old age for our forefathers.”

Killers of the Flower Moon, dir. Martin Scorsese // Killers of the Flower Moon by David Grann (3/3)

[twst-drabbles]

Trapped in a Fish's Eye 2

Summary: "You won't starve," you chuckled as you pull on his leash. Azul bit down on the gag and growled. "Oh don't complain. You told me to use any means to keep you from eating. This ensures I have some fun as well."

(Mind you, time is weird in this closed off dorm, so things may or may not cross over depending on what brings the most pain or not.)

Of course it would be the food to go first. What was Azul thinking, that somehow, because they were caught under the gaze of something that only the people in this dorm would be targeted?

Magic has ceased to work with the emergency mirror. No matter the rituals, circles, or stones given to that pitch black thing, it simply will not light up and guide everyone out of here. Of course it was inevitable that the lights would quit working, that the food storage units would cease all activity as well.

The dairies went, as all milk products do, and what could be salvaged was either dried, or stored in airtight jars. It's frustrating, losing a good portion of the food as they did. Azul could only hope that what could be saved would last long enough.

And, of course, nothing ever truly ends there. Azul always had this instinct in him that rang out when things will get worse. Years and years of mockery and being on the receiving end of bullying gave birth to it. Anytime there's a sign of leeway or the day was empty of anything, everything in Azul's body would tighten up and wait for any sort of disaster.

Most of the food was salvaged, but the ones left to rot has little to nowhere to go. The trash couldn't be picked up and taken outside. And the faeries that would normally do this type of work behind the scenes simply cannot do it as well.

That rotting food had to be sealed up somewhere, lest it attracts bugs and other gross things. So, Azul picked a storage unit to eventually throw out and had everyone else move the trash in. It was to be closed up and left alone without a second thought.

…something took root in it. Of course, the moment you leave something alone for too long, unpredictable things start to happen.

The door was air tight. Any sort of smell that would want to leak out would be stopped by a thick rubber seal.

And yet… Azul smelled something sweet. Fattening. Delectable.

Azul woke up to that smell. His stomach was already satiated, but this smell got him out of bed anyway. At first, he was going to follow it to the kitchen to wretch anyone in there out of the kitchen. Can't very well be wasting food on small flights of fancies and cravings.

But the smell wasn't coming from there. It was coming from the trash room.

A room with the door wide open.

A room fit to burst with writhing students as they scratched and kicked one another, too tangled up to possibly ever escape, too tangled up to even get closer to that smell.

Azul considered himself lucky to have had the sight wake him up. He was well on his way of diving into that man-made hoard. He blocked the hallway into that room as well as he could, but the smell refused to leave his sense alone.

Azul was still drooling. And even when he ate, Azul was still hungry.

So, as much as this would hurt, Azul begged you to do something. To keep him from eating until the smell finally went away.

And the humiliation would worsen when you made a makeshift gag and a leash.

"You won't starve," you chuckled as you pull on his leash. Azul bit down on the gag and growled. "Oh don't complain. You told me to use any means to keep you from eating. This ensures I have some fun as well."

Fun in exchange for his suffering. What did Azul even do to have you treat him this way?

…well, actually, what didn't he do? In his mad pursuit of finding even the smallest clue of your secret, to having some kind of leverage over you in fear of your growing influence, he may have overstepped a number of boundaries.

"Come on," you said with a tug, "Jade and Floyd are waiting for you, you know?"

Do you want me to walk on all fours too?

Azul grumbled but chased after you anyway. At least, with this anger, this shame, he's not feeling as strong an urge to walk right back to that room. Even though it was all replaced with a nausea, it was better than anything else.

So he'll let this continue until this hunger has been thoroughly tamed.

At least you had the mercy to only do this away from prying eyes. Azul knows that if he's caught, he won't be able to pry himself from your shadow. He'll glue himself to you, just so nobody ever has the chance to mess with him.

He doesn't want to go back, to those old days he tried so hard to erase.

[whump-world]

TW: manhandling, restraints, some physical abuse, implied future noncon, panic attacks, kind of a suicide attempt.

The Samhain.

The tunic is itchy, that's the problem. Arthur's usual red shirt was loose and the sleeves stopped at his elbows, giving him a free range of motion to hold a sword. This tunic is still crimson red, yet it's tight around his torso. The neck is wide with no drawstrings to help close it. Instead of the belt he used to have, there's a scarf that the attendant ties to his hips. It's itchy and he can't reach for things without feeling like he might rip the material.

Arthur dismisses his attendant. He would have liked a few minutes to himself but the soldiers at the door knock twice when he doesn't come out. He grinds his teeth and throws the doors open.

"Gentleman," he says, or rather, snarls, before marching past them towards the banquet hall. He's growing tired of the soldiers his father has dispatched for him. Morgana would say he's shifting his anger on menial details. But being furious at the king of Camelot is one step short of treason.

Said king, Uther, smiles broadly when Arthur arrives and beckons him to the table. "Son, come sit with us!"

Arthur walks past many of his knights and other noblemen while keeping his gaze straight. If someone talks to him, he might be sick.

It's the tunic.

The banquet is for Samhain, but this year, it's also for Cenred's arrival. Arthur doesn't spare a glance at the man and seats himself next to Uther. His tight-lipped silence doesn't stay for long because Uther shoots him a glare: behave.

It makes Arthur feel small like a child being scolded, but he cannot forget what this celebration is truly about.

"You are to be leaving with King Cenred after the sacrifice on Samhain."

Arthur, who'd been digging into his meal, frowns. "For how long?"

Uther drinks from his chalice. The prolonged wait makes Arthur confused.

"As part of the peace treaty's conditions, you won't be a subject of Camelot from then on."

Arthur puts his fork down. "I don't understand."

"King Cenred wishes to forge an honorable alliance with us. And as you are aware," Uther looks him in the eye, "it is not in our best interest to refuse."

"If this is about the famine, we'll recover. We always do, Father. This is my home. I can't leave you— or Morgana. My knights. Who will train the squires?" His desperation becomes transparent in that last question because they both know many worthy knights can step in for him.

"I didn't raise you to be so short-sighted. Yes, we did manage to survive the famine but make no mistake, winter will wash out whatever we have salvaged. Our kingdom needs resources and King Cenred is willing to provide them. Do you see now?"

Arthur has to blink back his frustration. "What will I even do in Essetir?"

"He would like to court you since you are of age. Then when the time is right, he has agreed to marry you."

The chair scrapes back as Arthur stands, outraged, hurt, and scared. "I will not be his consort," he spits. "I cannot believe you would ask this of me."

Uther stares at him in distaste, as if he's the one acting ridiculous. "You won't be a simple consort."

"I might as well be."

"Foolish boy," Uther slams his palm down on the table, "do you think you have a say in this? What is your duty as a knight? What is your duty as prince of Camelot? What is your duty to me, your king?"

Arthur steps back like he'd been slapped. Pulling rank is nothing new for his father. It's just...

Uther surges to his feet and grabs a handful of Arthur's hair. Ignoring the pained yelp, he sits again, dragging his son to his knees beside his chair.

"Please, father, I don't—"

"What is your duty?"

He doesn't look up. Arthur cringes as involuntary tears trickle out and fall to the floor. He tries to ease his hair from the strong grip but it only makes Uther yank his head back till he had no choice but to look at him.

"Speak."

"To protect my kingdom and my people."

"That's right. You can achieve that if you do as I say for once in your life."

"That's not fair," Arthur whines. "All I've ever done is for this kingdom," he grabs at Uther's thigh, "for you!"

"Your romantic notions of marriage and love are more important to you than I am. Your people can starve, as long as you get to live happily ever after with your true love. You're not even worthy of your title." He shoves Arthur to the side.

"You don't m-mean that."

"Prove me wrong then." Uther steps over him and goes to the door, leaving him there, alone.

Arthur can't sit here and endure his father's silent, scathing looks. He can't. After a few minutes, he quietly leaves the table with the excuse of speaking to his knights. Arthur doesn't actually want to see any of them, so when Leon catches him at the drinks station, he tries not to scowl.

"What is it?" he asks, expecting some report or hindrance that needs to be taken care of. Arthur won't be responsible for it. He'll be gone. Perhaps Leon will pick up his tasks. He's a fine man with a gentle camaraderie with most people.

"I heard—" he pauses, "is it true that you are leaving, my lord?"

Arthur takes a swing of his drink, nauseous at having to talk about it for the first time. He admires Leon for being able to confront him. Arthur is a coward. "Stay within your rights on what you can ask your prince, Leon."

He clasps his hands behind his back, a look of contemplation crossing his face. Leon looks sober and composed. Arthur hates it. He doesn't push it, though, and drops on a stool nearby. The pillar he leans back on is cold. His vision is turning blurry. He closes his eyes.

"Do you plan to run?"

Arthur's eyes snap open. Leon is sitting next to him. When did that happen? "What?"

"It is my duty to protect the prince of Camelot. So if you decide to... escape, I will lay down my life for you."

The word duty has Arthur throwing up on the floor. The servants immediately swoop down to clean the mess. Arthur's throat burns. He takes the water offered to him.

"Leon... I can't do that."

They wait till the servants flit away. Leon begins to whisper in rushed tones and it's gratifying to see at least one person care that much. "Everyone's busy tonight with arrangements and having to accommodate Cenred's party. I can distract your guards."

Hope should feel light and warm. Arthur only feels dread. "Cenred will blame my father. Then there'd be—be a war."

"It is not right—"

"You've been good to me," Arthur hiccups through it, uncertain if Leon can even hear him over the clamor and cheers of the celebration. "I won't forget that." He lurches to his feet, feeling more exhausted than drunk. Patting Leon on the shoulder, he says, "I might as well go talk to my future spouse."

Cenred and Uther aren't sitting together anymore. Uther is with a large circle of nobles, while Cenred is clapping along to a bard's tunes. Arthur walks over, nodding at the men who bow and give him room.

Surely, he can do this much for his people. Uther is right in his own way. Will one life ever be worth thousands? Not to his father. Arthur can't bring himself to smile at Cenred as such thoughts run in his mind.

"I've been eager to see you," Cenred says as he sees him.

"Likewise," Arthur says, somewhat mechanically. He puts his hand out for a shake, which Cenred grabs. But Arthur pushes him off when Cenred places a kiss on his knuckles. The women nearby giggle.

"Spirited as ever, little Cir-Mheala," he whispers.

Arthur touches the hair by his ear, heart racing. Cir-Mheala. Honeycomb. When he was five, his nurse had told him that his hair was as golden as his mother's.

Arthur tries to reign in his loathing, but Cenred snares him swiftly. He ruffles his hair with a smirk. "Fit to be by my side."

Smacking his hand aside, Arthur scoffs. "Aren't you a little old for a second marriage?"

Cenred ignores the jibe. "In two days, we'll be leaving. I want to take you to the market of the druids."

Arthur doesn't know much about druids, save for the fact that Uther hates them. "Courting me will be a waste of your time." What is he doing? Being on good terms with the king is his best option if he is to leave Camelot. But it's so difficult to be cordial with a man like him. "Why bother winning my affections when you force my hand in this?"

"I'm not forcing you," Cenred says, sighing. "Do you despise me that much?" Before Arthur could reply, he was jerked closer by the scarf around his waist. The older man's breath is hot on his face. "It's alright if you do, Mheala. Your fire is very appealing."

"Stop it," Arthur snaps. "Stop it, stop it, stop it!"

It's too late when he realizes how loud he'd been. He ducks his head and scampers out of the room, ducking and weaving through the stares.

In his quarters, he rips off the stupid tunic and kicks off his boots. Between words like duty and Mheala, Arthur feels cornered. A warrior would think of strategies and escape routes like Leon. Shamefully, Arthur can't stop thinking about his father.

He knows he's never been the best son, or prince for that matter. Disappointment from Uther is constant, no matter what he did. He'd tried, though. Arthur had tried so hard. He'd tried till he could swing a dagger in the rain and not miss. His father had to break his fingers a few times before he learned, but he'd learnt it, hadn't he?

Tonight, he'd tried to talk to Cendred, but Arthur failed. Arthur's chest caves at the thought of living out the rest of his years with that man.

He's holding a knife in his hand. Arthur must still be tipsy because he doesn't remember taking it out. The knife is sharp, the metal so familiar Arthur could recognize it in his sleep. He brings it to his face and changes his grip—

"What do you think you're doing?"

Arthur's grip on the knife loosens, but there's no hiding it. He lowers it, nervous. Embarrassed. "What are you doing here, father?"

In an instant, his head cracks to the side, the hot white pain in his jaw making him see stars. Blood joins the bad taste in his mouth.

"How dare you?" Uther snatches the knife and throws it across the room. "Coward."

"I wasn't—" Arthur stammers, clutching his face. "It's not what you think. I wasn't trying to—"

"First you insult Cenred, then I find you with a knife. I'm thoroughly ashamed of you."

As Uther calls the guards and yells orders, Arthur backs away to the window. The alarm his body feels is out of proportion, some part of him thinks. He is shaking uncontrollably. The terror in his chest is as persistent as a cough that threatens to drag out his guts. He can't breathe.

The soldiers tie his hands and feet. "No, no, no. I—I swear, I wasn't going to kill—kill myself." Arthur's pleas are useless.

Uther looms over him. "You brought this on yourself."

The next punch knocks him out.

[cordyce]

what kind of artists/genres do you think the gang listens to

these are burning questions that truly need to be answered, thank you

JAKE: you cannot tell me that this man’s top two listened to genres aren’t classic country and classic rock. like i’m sorry but mr. soldier boy definitely REEKS of it. some of his favorite artists would probably be lonestar, alan jackson, guns n’ roses, reba, led zeppelin, aerosmith, ac/dc, red hot chili peppers… the list goes on

NEYTIRI: honestly i see her being either a piggyback off of jake’s taste (bc they’d share playlists a lot lol) or listening to some very soulful r&b! definitely listens to marvin gaye RELIGIOUSLY (a woman of taste) but is also a fan of whitney houston, prince. dare i throw adele into this mix bc i just know ney would eat her vocals UP

NETEYAM: people are either gonna love or hate me for this but i think he is a HEAVY kpop lover + likes alt/indie music as well. he’s biiiig on girl groups like new jeans, le sserafim, and (g)-idle. is an AVID listener of rainbow kitten surprise, the backseat lovers, noah kahan. but he likes rock too (prefers metallica over ac/dc, don’t tell jake)

KIRI: i think she listens heavyyy to indie pop / alt / folk music. things that aren’t necessarily soft but have a more relaxed style beat is definitely up her alley. her top artists would definitely be girl in red, conan gray, phoebe bridgers, matt maltese, fleet foxes. (also listens to kpop, is the one who introduced neteyam)

LO’AK: this dude has absolutely horrible taste i’m so sorry. like it’s not downright terrible but he either listens to mainstream pop type music or the most horrid rap you’ve ever heard in your life. his taste in certain artists is good tho. he likes juice wrld, taylor swift, billie eilish, drake, lil uzi, role model

TSIREYA: i see her as either a mainstream girly, lofi playlist connoisseur, or being surprisingly into heavy metal lol. definitely think she’d have a jumbled up playlist full of taylor swift, ed sheeran, olivia rodrigo, van halen, slipknot, mötley crüe, plus various random lofi beats thrown in. her playlist is a mess but for some reason so good??

AO’NUNG: yeah no there’s no salvaging this man’s music taste. just accept that it is a literal dumpster fire and GO. his most listened to genre?? soundcloud rappers. but not even the good ones! i couldn’t even name any because they’re all so underground from never moving out of their ma’s basement. someone take his music privileges away pls

[tigerspite]

If you couldn't tell already, these two are getting flung around my mental washing machine at frightening speeds.

Read the rest of The Devil's Claw here

Previous chapter

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CHAPTER ?? / The Forbidden

House Kings does not know how to deal with a human of remarkable talent amongst the ranks of Devil warriors.

House Devils themselves hardly knows, either.

Wethraks notes that Yami's presence in the Kell Guard and association with its most esteemed inner circle destabilises loyal bonds. Allowing a thief of the Great Machine in the halls of the Devils' Lair stirs Barons into action. They question Ursaviks's sanity and authority, and promise to maul his precious weapon, or make an example of everyone involved if they cannot do that. House Devils is capable of defending itself without the need for interference from another species, they believe. Doing so implies weakness, and a failure of their own warriors, which means their leaders are worthless. If one human can replace entire crews worth of Devils, the sacrifice of Eliksni lives and the deaths of those who built London upon its new foundations is unnecessary.

The first few, Ursaviks docks for insubordination, and strips them of their statuses. The rest, the smarter ones who know to let the foolish younger Eliksni take the fall before making their stand, he regards as amusements. Every single one of them is laughed out of the Lair. He waves them away with a suggestion to look at the results before making such bold accusations and statements.

None of them realise that, for the most part, Yami is the prized pet of the Kell Guard.

They name him 'Lodask' for his ferocity on the battlefield. An ancient word from home-Riis, equating him to a vicious, six-legged creature that Wethraks has only heard described by Elders. A predator that would steal away hatchlings from shorelines, lurking in the shallows to drag even unsuspecting adults to their watery demise. Intercepted comms from Kings raiding parties prove that he strikes the same primal fear into their minds.

Outside of combat, his existence is accepted to varying degrees. Having the courage to fight for a people who are not his own wins favour with the coldest of hearts, and others find him a curiosity. Some of the trappers make friends with him and ask to be taught about his culture and the way of life he left behind. Others take him on tours of the city - which really means pub crawls - or ask him about the artefacts found in the salvage markets. On occasion, they ask to be taught human games and activities. 'Throwing-football' is a particular favourite, and the primary cause to blame for most recent injuries in their ranks. It is very different to 'kicking-football', which teeters on the edge of being banned on the grounds of the Lair for entirely different reasons that Wethraks does not understand the extent of.

Supposedly, he has even endeared himself to his neighbour, Taniks. The latter speaks no English, and the former gets by with an ever-increasing grasp of Eliksni, but they find alternative ways to understand each other. The target propped at the end of their shared hallway, and the axes and arrows sticking out of it, says everything Wethraks needs to know.

As his charge learns the ways of the Devils so he can do as Ursaviks ordered and leave his humanity behind, less complaints about his presence filter back. Or if they are made, they are quieter. Subtler.

What none of them see, however, is Lodask's guilt and regret.

One night, he finds himself knocking on Lodask's door. The man disappeared after a skirmish, and rumours from the Guard swirl wildly as to why. Apparently, someone watched him tear the arm off a Kings Captain and beat her senseless with it, stabbed her in the eye with an arrow from his quiver, and then slit her throat with the same arrowrtip. While it does not seem out of the realm of possibility, his newfound crewmates tend to speak highly of him in defence of his honour, as if they collectively still have something to prove.

There is a moment of hesitation, a slight delay before the door cracks open and Lodask peers through the gap. The haunted look on his face is both unnerving and worrying, and confirms his fears.

"Is something wrong?" he asks.

"I heard what happened," Wethraks does not mince his words. Yet from there, his confidence scatters. "Is…can I come in?"

"Uh…yeah, sure." Stepping aside, Lodask allows him to squeeze into the narrow hall and into his relatively unfurnished apartment. The single lamp light on is dim, and he manages to step over the discarded armor and weaponry on the floor before he can trip over it. Despite the shelving and storage available, few things in his home are kept in a designated space.

From there, he doesn't inquire further. Instead, he watches as Lodask sinks into the couch, and wonders why he never realised that he is just as small and fragile as every other human.

When he finally speaks after several seconds of silence, his tone is flat, and he rubs at his face. Something in the action speaks of vulnerability. Expert though he is at hiding his emotions, his body language almost always gives him away.

"I lost control." he murmurs.

Wethraks's hearts sink to hear the speculation confirmed. "Are you injured?"

"No, no." The denial is instant. As always. It would be of no surprise to learn that he is hiding grevious wounds but is too fearful to admit it, as he has done before.

"I can look, if you're worried about infection-"

"No, I'm not hurt," he insists, shoulders slumping. "I just can't keep doing this. I said I was done, I was meant to start over. I told Ursaviks I didn't want to hurt anyone. But how many Kings has he made me kill?"

In place of answer, Wethraks sighs through his nose and lowers himself to sit. At his friend's side, he spots a dark purple blotch of dried blood stuck in his hair. If there is one thing they have both discovered, it is that Eliksni blood clings to human skin and hair like thick oil. Once the sheen of Ether evaporates off, it leaves behind a residue reminder of his sins until days worth of scrubbing and picking remove it.

"He trapped me. I walked straight into it." Lodask almost growls with self-hatred, lowering his head and shaking it.

Wethraks lets a purr rumble in his throat, thin yet steady. Nothing else he can say or do will soothe him. Any offer of comfort would only send him spiralling further. Sitting within his personal space and being present, listening, not pushing at any boundaries, is as much as he will allow. Even the privilege of being able to hear him express his concerns is a high honour. One day, he is sure he will be able to rest a hand on his arm, embrace him, or invite him to the warmth of his own home and nest as night-family so that he does not have to bear his burdens alone. But that day is many years away, distant behind impenetrable emotional walls.

In the quiet, he thinks. A way forward has to be available. Lodask cannot suffer forever. Treating him as a weapon of mass destruction, absent of his own agency. Is unsustainable. London is supposed to be not solely a safe refuge where he can recover and rebuild his life, but a home too, with Eliksni who would care for him as if he had lived among them his entire life. Beholden to Ursaviks he may be, his mate would also not want him to feel so miserable. However, all four of his hands are tied. Allowing him any further concessions may prove disastrous when his ultimate goal is to transform a human into an Eliksni.

Although within those boundaries, one option remains. An unpopular one that risks rejection at the first hurdle, and tone-deaf in the face of their present situation. But it is better to share his thoughts and plant the idea in his mind than leave his friend to fester, unaware of an escape route.

"Why don't you go to Proving?" Wethraks suggests.

Lodask glances upwards from his hunched position, eyebrows raised in bone-tired, exasperated, disbelief. The mere implication of fighting for his honour and position seems to age him another twenty years before his very eyes.

"Ursaviks is Kell, but because he took charge of you, he's also the leader of your crew," he attempts to explain, pausing to ensure that the translated distinction is correct. Why English has so many words for types of leaders, he fears he may never know. *If you can campaign to him to enter the next Proving and defeat any challengers, you'd earn your freedom. With the life-debts you've accrued, you'd become a Captain or a Baron."

"Did you do that?"

"Well- no," Wethraks stumbles over his words before recovering. "Being Kell's Mate means I don't have to do anything. But it's what I would've done if I hadn't joined with the Lair." Excluding that he would have been eviscerated as soon as he stepped on to the field, with his history of fleeing from battle, seems sensible.

"Isn't it a fight to the death?" he asks, incredulous.

"They happen, yes, but that's usually someone trying to prove a point."

"How many Devils have a point to prove about me?"

He opens his mouth to assure that not many would try, then catches on to his point. Some way or another, it seems the entire city knows of his existence. While most simply cross the street to avoid him or turn their backs when he approaches, the disgraced once-Barons could band together and enter themselves into the same competition pools in order to regain their reputation when they hear of his campaign. Let alone who they could rally behind their cause to fight and kill on their behalf. Or the sheer number of Devils who would want to watch the battles. If he were to fall, it would be a public embarrassment of the highest order.

Beyond that, though, it would mean he is never accepted. Determined to drift and not once find the stability he so terribly needs. He could leave and find refuge in another House, or with a band of exiles, but it would lead to more of the same. Fighting for survival first, and to justify his place in an uncaring world second.

He cannot betray him like that.

Clutching at the last few desperate straws of optimism he has, he answers, "I wouldn't worry about them. Ursaviks likes you too much. So do the rest of the Guard. They wouldn't let anything happen."

Lodask sighs and slumps back into his seat, arms folded. "I guess."

Sensing that he does not believe him, he clicks his mandibles to make his friend meet his gaze. When his attention turns to look at him, Wethraks touches a hand to his own chest, over his hearts. "I won't let anything happen."

The briefest flicker of a genuine emotion passes over his friend's face. Unable to read it, and with no immediate reaction other than his usual guarded stare, Wethraks's insides writhe. Perhaps the gesture was too intimate. Too honest. For all the time they spend together, it is as far as he has ever pushed. With so many barriers in the way, it is difficult to tell where their friendship stands on the best of days.

But before the awkwardness can set in and force him to take it back, a faint smile ghosts across Lodask's lips.

"I know."

[its-monster-mash]

Sinclair Brothers Headcanons - Food

Bo

• Bo CAN feed himself, but dear god he cannot do it well.

• It’s pretty much all junk food/extremely basic processed foods, and they aren’t made particularly well.

• He has a “Treat Yourself” streak ever since his parents died, in which he does things like add Too Much of what he THINKS is a good ingredient to something (extremely sloppy sandwiches with too much Mayo, gritty boxed Mac N Cheese because he used too much butter). The food would undoubtably be better if he just prepared it as directed, but he’s intent on having it his way.

• Will do WEIRD things with food. Sometimes he likes to do things like take the cheese powder packet out of the Mac n cheese and put it on popcorn(he uses Ranch on the noodles he takes the cheese from. This is actually better than when he tries to make the Mac n cheese). Sometimes, he takes the flavor packet out of ramen just to eat it—Vincent gets SO mad every time he finds a ramen packet with no flavor in it. Bo insists he’s going to eat it later(also with ranch) but he never does.

• This man will eat six snack-pack puddings in one sitting. Not good at mixing his own instant pudding because he insists on adding extra sugar and it throws off the chemical reaction. (When he does that and inevitably refuses to eat it because the texture is nasty, Vincent freezes it and has it like fudgesicles)

• King of sitting on the couch with his shirt half-tucked, only one sock on, and eating cold ravioli straight out of the can.

• Can’t eat cheerios, it reminds him too much of childhood. For him to eat cereal at ALL it has to be the most absolutely sugar and dye laden Breakfast Candy you’ve ever seen. He will add more sugar.

• Utterly obsessed with Halloween Candy—if he feels lonely and Vincent hasn’t come up to hang out with him in a while he will find him or Lester and pelt them with Candy. This is preferable to admitting he needs some attention.

• Will eat an entire grocery store rotisserie chicken in one sitting like it’s nothing with his bare hands.

• When he wants to get his brothers together for a family dinner, he comes home with an ungodly amount of takeout(paid for with cash taken from the wallets of victims)

Vincent

• He tried to cook exactly one(1) time, and he ended up burning it completely to the pan—Bo just threw the entire pan away. Vincent was so embarrassed that he never tried cooking again.

• Has an ungodly love for cereal—keeps no less than five different boxes of sugary cereals in his workshop at any given time.

• When he goes on a major creative binge, he rarely comes upstairs, so all he eats is dry cereal by the fist fulls.

• Very big tea lover, but VERY picky about it. Bo just gets him whatever random tea he sees at the store when he makes a supply run, so Vincent has boxes and boxes of tea that he wouldn’t drink if his life depended on it. Lester is more consistent about getting exactly what Vincent likes.

• Despite being unable to cook himself, Vincent is surprisingly judgy about it when Bo makes something gross. He’ll stand near him just STARING at him until Bo eventually just offers him half. Vincent takes it anyway, but he complains about the ridiculous amount of Mayo and will make a show of dabbing at it with a paper towel.

• When Bo fucks something up so bad he won’t eat it(like the instant pudding) Vincent is surprisingly good at salvaging it, for someone who can’t actually cook himself.

• Shredded cheese out of the bag at 3AM

• Bo leaves pizza rolls in the fridge for him in a microwave safe bowl sometimes so he can get a snack easily if he comes up at night.

• Very picky about fast food—a lot of it makes him sick to his stomach.

Lester

• Can ACTUALLY cook, and loves to.

• Sets a few small traps in the woods for small game, but actually takes a lot of his meat from the fresher roadkill.

• Makes a HELL of a gumbo, and knows his way around a stew. Has a garden dedicated entirely to different varieties of hot pepper.

• Bo absolutely will not even TRY his food, knowing that at least half the meat comes off of the road. Lester got him to try it one(1) time and it gave him the shits—in reality, it only fucked with Bo’s stomach because Bo is so used to eating garbage that the vegetables were hard on his stomach.

• Extremely annoyed every time a fast food restaurant comes out with something it claims is “Mega Hot”. Whenever something new comes out, he ALWAYS buys three of it and makes his brothers try it with him, just so he has someone to rant to about how weak the flavor profile is.

• This man LOVES hot chocolate. He WILL make it in a crockpot with a couple peppers thrown in for depth of flavor. This is a Sinclair family favorite, and the ONLY thing Lester makes that Bo will consistently consume. Vincent likes to have it iced—Bo swears it’s “just chocolate milk” if you have it cold, but he just doesn’t get it.

• Not TOO much of a cereal lover, but he likes to get Lucky Charms just so he can set the marshmallows aside to have in his hot chocolate—he thinks the shapes are fun, and he’s averse to the texture of normal mini-marshmallows.

• On the rare occasion that he DOES pick up fast food(usually to be pretentious about spice) he is the DEFINITION of that meme with the terrified Wendy’s employee working the drive through when someone says the absolute most unhinged bullshit to them.

• This man reads cookbooks for fun and for inspiration—if he used the Internet, he’s the one person on the planet who actually enjoys reading the entire blog entry above recipes.

• Made his own Kimchi once.

[oonajaeadira]

im trying to not with that outfit but I can't

a cardigan, a high hip cut cardigan at that, is an accent piece, not the whole top, am I appreciating the low cut of the undershirt? yes, but I cannot with the rest of it.

THAT CARDIGAN IS TOO SMALL AND IT IS SUFFERING THE MAN IS TOO BROAD

the pants are... fine?... I certainly think he looks better with more form fitting pant legs, his silhouette is very boxy. not like, Max in WW84 boxy but it feels close to me.

so i think, with the right top the pants would be salvageable, the cardigan... undo the bottom two buttons, a nice dark undershirt, and form fitting pants, I'd still have questions, but they'd prob be fewer

I'm gonna apologize for the old lady I will some day become because if I'm sitting on my porch and someone walks by wearing that? I can just hear my cranky old self. "This world's goin' to shit."

WARNING: Do not read more. Adira's gonna go flip some tables.

Transcript: Begin rant.

Listen. I woke up to that monstrosity and had to go to an online meeting and engage for two hours on very little sleep. I went and took a nap and I'm still fkn cranky about it.

No. You know what? I'm REALLY fkn cranky about it. Like, it feels like a personal attack.

I also need to apologize to everyone who has felt this way over Fabio's choices lately. I feel your pain. But I actually love his style and that he keeps our boy comfy and whimsical and up to date (because, let's face it, left to his own devices, Pedro is a teenage boy). I mean, I didn't exactly love the pants for the wine event, but let's not get into that. I got over those. Because you know what? Pedro looks good in everything.

Or so I thought until this morning.

When I woke up from my nap I actually groaned. Not because my back fkn sucks but because I knew this outfit was still out there. That it had happened. That someone whose job it is to dress people found the most beautiful man on earth and did that to him.

How do you pick four colors and not have any of them compliment each other???? And then pick four BLOCK colors, no patterns, but all different fabric textures? And then choose a sweater that's made from something so shiny and synthetic that I can hear it creaking every time it stretches over his shoulders? Like, that's the kind of shit they can't sell at Kohls so they take it off the racks and put it in clothing subscription boxes and try to convince people that "it's not ugly, it's just new and hip and so fashion forward you're not used to it yet." If it caught fire it wouldn't even burn, just melt into a bubbling pool and then cool into a puddle of silly putty.

No.

*screams into a smushmallow*

You know, I'm gonna scoot past the fit of the pants and their zoot-suit pleats and their droopy cuffs and forgive them just so I can concentrate on that sweater. Don't put him in that color!!!! Boy has beautiful undertones and can wear just about anything and you picked the one fkn color that makes him look like an abomination!!!

*throws an arm over my eyes like a drama queen except really not ironically*

There are so many crimes happening here and on a not so cranky day I'd mostly just feel protective that she made him look terrible oh mah gahhhhh

But it's a cranky day. And someone that works in the fashion industry thinks it's okay to pair camel shit plastic with Heinz 57 Stray Cats. If that's what's coming of the runways these days give me two spoons and I'll remove my own damn eyeballs my own damn self--

*takes a deep sigh. tries to forget the pain. lies in an agonized heap*

Did you know edibles are legal in Minnesota now? Yeah. The dems put it on a bill with a bunch of other great stuff and the republicans in the state house didn't read it and signed it into law. It was really great. That was a good day. Legalized gummies.

I'm gonna go get some. BRB.

[sapphire-weapon]

May I ask why exactly you dislike Infinite Darkness? I thought it had a pretty solid story and I found Leon pretty good. I'd love to hear your elaborated opinion. :)

I haven't watched ID since it first came out, so I can't give you a super detailed breakdown of it, but here's what I do remember:

I felt like the writers didn't know what they wanted Leon to actually be in terms of like... which side of his character they wanted to show off. He seems to go through sudden mood swings, and I remember at several points just being like "Dude he's all over the place. Is he off his meds or what's going on here?"

There were a lot of moments that were just logistical nonsense. Again, I can't remember exactly, but I do remember going "so are they ever going to explain that?" And "how the fuck did she even get there?" At several points.

Like, I do remember Leon fucking shooting Jason in the heart for treason, but when Shen May engages in the exact same shit that Leon called treason, he just went "WELL I'LL JUST SEE WHERE THIS GOES IG. DON'T WANNA JUMP TO CONCLUSIONS..." like homie you just fucking murdered a man over this what do you mean???? I know you want to fuck her but Jesus christ.

Infinite Darkness did Claire so dirty that I straight up cannot remember what the fuck she was even doing in it. The only thing I remember about Claire in ID is her getting kidnapped and having to rescue herself. And then she and Leon get into a big dumb fight at the end, AND THE FIGHT ITSELF MAKES NO SENSE

omg it's coming back to me now. If Leon's intention was to withhold evidence from Claire, why the fuck bother to tell her that he'd salvaged the evidence at all?? There was no fucking reason for him to do that. Like, was he trying to just hold it over her head and be a dick about it? What the fuck was the intention there? "hey Claire I got the thing that you've spent the entire plot duration looking for. And I'm not going to give it to you. See? See it in my hand? I have it. Not for you, though. Get fucked."

And then for Claire to get that pissed at him and rag on him for his bad judgement and decision-making and then NOT throw Sherry in his face or mention her at all is like... why. What's the point. Why did you manufacture this stupid drama between them when there was already something there that you could have used that was more organic and would make more sense???

ESPECIALLY SINCE THE WHOLE THING WAS ABOUT HOW UNTRUSTWORTHY THE GOVERNMENT IS AND HOW THEY DON'T ACTUALLY GIVE A SHIT ABOUT SURVIVORS OR RACCOON CITY AT ALL AND

I'm getting mad all over again LMAO

And also like!! The whole thing with Leon having a crisis about how he doesn't feel like a hero YET STILL LOOKS ASHLEY'S DAD IN THE FACE EVERY SINGLE DAY AND THE SHOW GOES OUT OF ITS WAY TO SHOW PHOTOS OF HER?? There was no acknowledgement of the fact that Leon actually saved her and did do a good thing, and I don't know why or how they just missed it and instead had to resort to that Patrick jobber to try to tell Leon "no it's OK man you're still a hero to me" like what the fuck

And the fucking

Villainous plot

It was the fucking Jenova Project. IT WAS JUST THE JENOVA PROJECT. Someone in the US government played FF7 and then turned around and went "HEY I GOT A REALLY BAD IDEA" and started putting dudes in tubes and fucking with their genetic makeup.

I actually said the words out loud while watching "so is Jason Sephiroth??????"

Shen May's entire character was completely worthless, she accomplished nothing and died for nothing. And Jason trying to give a sad, dramatic monologue while he's a big gross bulging Birkin monster was one of the funniest things in RE ever, and that was super not the intention by the writers for that scene.

It was just a mess. It was a mess of missed opportunities and bad plot decisions made by stupid characters who accomplish nothing.

[diaborodevil]

Mortal kombat ice and fire blood and sweat

Earthrealm unknown island

???: so Kano you and your black dragon will be joining me when I start the tournament

Kano: oh you bet you’ll have my support your army will be fully loaded when we win

???: d’vorah we have the aid of the kytinn correct

D’vorah: yes this one has assured that the hive will support you

???: and you best friend will you support me

Shang tsung: I’m sorry quan chi but I cannot assist you in this endeavor as a man of medicine I can’t follow in your bloodlust

Quan chi: I’m disappointed but I’ll accept then it is time to start mortal kombat

Earthrealm new york

Stryker: so your new to this but it’s a quiet night but stay alert rookie

Kabal: I’ll keep that in mind wait what’s that

Grum: so this is an earthrealmer city

Kintaro: it will serve well for the tiger clan when quan chi takes over

Kabal: you don’t see that every day

Stryker: (to radio) copy we are seeing two dragon men

Kintaro: oh no we have been spotted what ever shall we do

Grum: I guess we must hide our present ha ha haaa

(I fight then ensues)

Kintaro: hmmm it seems that earthrealmers still posses some magic but these two still seem like easy opponents

(Grumm then proceeds to pick up Stryker then rips off his arms then rips off his lower legs he then proceeds to throw away all the parts he ripped off)

Kabal: STRYKER

Kintaro: worry about yourself earthrealmer

(Kintaro opens his mouth and let’s out a plume of flames burning kabal he then proceeds to pick him up by the neck then breathes out a purple haze of smoke then drops kabal)

Kintaro: well that was fun but we should head back to the island

Outworld

Shao: why have you called us here motaro

Motaro: a pack netherrealm fiends have infiltrated our hunting grounds they left many of our hunters injured and a few killed

Shao: that is an issue anything else we should know

Motaro: yes they were carrying odd weapons with them we salvaged some from the ones we took down

Shao: hmm they seem to of earthrealm in origin kotal take them and consult the earthrealmer

Kotal: on it

Later

Erron: hmm let’s see these are advanced military grade not on the open market and have the black dragon emblem

Kotal: who are these black dragons

Erron: a group of criminals I used to work for theft, murder, the works but it seems like Kano finally made a deal with the devil you should consult with your higher ups

Earthrealm temple of divine

Red goddess ess: hmm it seems that with the arrival of the mortal kombat tournament that the balance between realms is breaking

Blue god: this is concerning we must investigate this matter

Black god: we do need to take action

Red goddess: I will unify the forces of earth realm for the tournament

Blue god: I’ll investigate never realm

Black god: and I’ll consult with outworld

Red goddess: then it is settled

Some explanations so quan chi is hosting mortal kombat

Shang tsung is good and is a master of medicine

Kintaro and Grum are outcasts of outworld the tiger clan of sho khan were cast out of outworld for no longer being suitable to live in it and Grum is a mutant sho khan for having two extra arms

The netherrealm fiends had guns (also there those fodder blade head dudes from mk 11 cutscenes)

Raiden and fujin have been replaced by this divine trio

Stryker is technically replacing jax

And yeah that’s it also yes that was a Jimi hendrix reference

[minarcana]

sorry for all the ooc, things are wrong with me. anyways i was in prae for the umpteenth time and every time im there all i can picture is the gaius that lives in my brain being forced to go through prae and its him with his head in his hands like "please. dont. dont make me remember being Like This"

im going to talk about gaius, sorry

(caveat: i have a better werlyt in my brain.)

his arc is that he went from a True Believer to "ah. these are people.". me forcing him to live thru prae era again is the cringe punishment cube.

a clarification to werlyt arc rewrite: yeah he did war crimes and he did them on purpose. he was aware they were war crimes. he knew that other legions did bad things, though he consistently underestimated the amount and cruelty of human experimentation going on. he knew other legions tended to treat eorzeans as lesser

however he really did believe in Something. he believed varis's propaganda and that varis was a benevolent leader, that it wasnt just primals but eorzea's belief in gods in general that were killing their own land bc he cant tell the difference between a primal and a god. he was fully committed to "these people are savages and heres some fuckin, fantasy version of the white mans burden" which is obviously incredibly wrong and fucked but yknow, it fuels the war machine. he was a soldier who never even thought to ask questions.

all he did was believe wholeheartedly in the propaganda fed to him and therefore rationalize "torching this entire country is fine, right". cannot stress enough i am not excusing the war crimes. im just making him a consistent character with a mildly rational arc. he super did those war crimes and did them on purpose. but he also did protect the war orphans his own war caused and had no issue whatsoever letting eorzeans who wanted to join the army to protect themselves do so. equality of opportunity providing you pledged fealty to garlemald, bc being of garlemald's population made you Better and Not A Savage and therein lies the line of who it's fine to kill if they fight back and who can be treated with respect.

unfortunately, ascians. gaius got his ass handed to him and the result is [nervous laughter] oh shit the army is super not infalliable and always right and very capable of and prone to wanton destruction instead of targeted attacks specifically to claim territory, hence the depression arc. he's pissed at ascians and wants to die. two birds one stone, hunt ascians till one of them kills him. meet people who want him dead and yknow theyve got a fucking point.

though he did still believe in the last vestige of "maybe things arent completely fucked and i didnt spend my entire life believing in utter bullshit lies?" that varis was a Good Emperor and Capable Of/Genuinely Interested In Ensuring Protection Of Garleans until the black rose incident. he still had a weird loyalty towards him that maybe he could get varis to like. not enact biological warfare against his own men. if he were just able to talk to him. but twas not to be and gaius essentially just [throws hands into air] OKAY! FINE! FUCK ME I GUESS!

hed already entirely lost faith that anything in garlemald's extant ruling structure could be salvaged while they still tried to wage war, weapon series just brought into light how deeply rotten the army had been the entire time when gaius had turned a blind eye to any operations that weren't his own.

if he met himself from his prae monologue now he'd strangle one of himself he doesnt care which one just free him from whatever this is hed Rather Die

the only thing im keeping him actually genuinely 100% totally unaware of from werlyt is the weird Thing livia had for him. shes out there hollering HIS BODY IS MINE as gaius is like "[completely out of earshot every time she does that] haha livia shes like a relative of mine i guess" and thats because i think its very funny.

on a SECOND DIGRESSION ABOUT PRAETORIUM

like. look. garleans cant use aether. i desperately want the explanation for how the fuck this man is pulling shadow clones out of his ass when he repels magic. i choose to believe the X beams are either ceruleum fire or aether cartridges charged by someone else but this cannot explain fuckin naruto shadow clone jutsu going on. what the fuck, gaius.

[spectres-fulcrum]

Wilhelm and Shinobu Takatsuki as weird emotionally validating mirrors

Other than Prince Henry of Wales and Alex, FSOTUS from RWRB (Which is duh cause he's probably distant cousins with Henry cause European royalty is like that) the other rich guy teen queer I need Wilhelm to meet is Shinobu Takatsuki from Junjou Romantica(Which is a problematic af series do not read it but despite everything the Terrorist pairing salvages the best love story because they communicate their fears and their love but when it's 2015 and you google gay animes that was the highest recced and not warned about and I feel like I just aged myself). Their stories are wildly differently but I feel like they'd validate each other's terrible and anxious teenage years and emotions and also... Living a mindless life and being expected to continue that but finding the one person that brings you to life and although you shouldn't, you need it.

And they both know what it's like to find it, and to have the cruelest twist of fate turn it into an anxious thing. But to fight for it.

I feel like Wilhelm would hear about Shinobu's quote that is summed up to 'I'm super smart and sporty without effort, from a rich family, have no ambition, I figured I could attend uni, get a job, and get married and live a mindless life but I found the one thing that brings me joy and that's you! Is that so bad!' And be like I'm in this picture and I don't like it. He REALLY doesn't like it.

(Also Shinobu bby, yes, it's "so bad" because A. You are 17 talking to your sister's 35yo EX husband he cannot give into you and B. You were 13/14 when you met him. 14. And you had accepted you would never truly feel anything in life and that is HEARTBREAKING. Like it's Japan so of course it never flagged anything but that quote always tugs on my heartstrings so badly. Because he had written off the idea of love. And once he fell he would cross any line for it. And he tried to shut. It. Off. )

And that's Wilhelm. A prince. Good universities. An acceptable dating pool of ladies. Nothing that made him feel anything. And then Simon. And he even says it. He almost wishes he never felt those emotions cause once he had it he couldn't live without them. And he's willing to consider throwing it all away to keep Simon.

And they both TRIED. Wilhelm tried to let Simon move on-he did. He kissed Felice hoping to feel anything. Shinobu transferred to a school in Australia. Isolating himself from his family, his friends, his language, his culture. We don't know much about those years but I imagine he ran but anxiety and depression followed(You will pry the headcanon of Shinobu's rich brat persona hiding his depression and manifesting as a desprete attempt to get the only thing he truly wants: The only person he will ever love out of my cold dead hands)

I imagine he was very alone. Because he remembered the guy he stole glances at in the library, the guy, out of the millions of people, saved him from being mugged. The guy, who, ended up being his sister's husband to be in a marriage of conveiance. And that was their first official meeting.

So anyone would tell him, he's Risako's husband. How could he be crushing on Risako's husband. But he was the nameless man in the library first. He was Shinobu's before he was Risako's. So he never tells anyone, he just runs.

And anytime Wilhelm cries out, he gets shut down, because he has responsibilies and has to mature and live up to Erik's impossibly high shadow and this isn't a punishment but he never asked for it. He never asked for any of it. He just wants to be a boy who loves a boy. Just like Shinobu wanted that nameless library man.

And they both go crazy in love. Wilhelm announced to the world that that was him in the video without any warning the palace. Shinobu, upon his sister's divorce, suddenly transferred home to pursue her now ex husband. Wilhelm can still step down.

I can see them laughing and looking back at being teenagers in love with that recklessness of being 16 and 17, going "Did we actually do that? And that actually worked?" And it did. (I mean-we don't know about Wilmon but we know Wilmon will end up together). But also talking about anxiety and trying to move on and failing and breaking down in bedrooms that weren't home but was more of a home that their parent's home.

I can't wait to see Wilhelm and Simon as happy as Shinobu and Miyagi are in current manga.

I just need Shinobu and Wilhelm to be weird mirrors but validating mirrors in isolating times. Idk if I can get timelines to work or reasons why a Swedish prince would meet the son of a Japanese professor(although I always liked the idea that Shinobu's maternal grandmother was European, thus the blonde hair. I always went French but could go old money Swedish...?)

[trapton]

“   you   can’t   hide   forever !   ” ( from chica oop / @ladyseidr )

🔧 @ladyseidr

𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔. sweat coated hand clinging to hilt, back against the wall [...] eyes rounded with signature, he hasn't been inside these walls for quite some time. turning henry's attempt to besmirch his name, while littering another floor with children bloodied. and with a smile upon his face, no less. waltzing around premise with badge upon chest, whistling a tune with keys swinging 'round his finger. access enough to security systems to erase his face from cameras when carrying out horrendous acts. bite was only the last straw. he couldn't stay quiet forever. never wanted to, yet his being present in the older location tonight was necessity based. despite a thump of his heart racing, in search of his beloved spring bonnie. he won't get a chance to take it, though.

exploratory mission sets him breaking into the facility, a man with not much left to lose. he looks much different than even in the aforementioned days beforehand. greyed hair, ponytail tied and forgotten. let himself go, regressing in weight and forgoing sleep. losing his daughter the last inch cut from sanity, to make him throw himself entirely into his work. [...] work that he finally could make sense of. yet he has to ensure that he can salvage the old animatronics that were re-furbished from their original models. 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚜. would they still be attached to souls? how deep of a process had they undergone?

the chilling voice of that goddamn barnyard shrew telling him all he needs to know, for now.

spine notches rolling against the wall, he's slightly hunched with eyes peering about the room. knife held out before him, he's near enough to the room they cannot enter. 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚒𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍. simply by the eerie foreshadowing offered by the bird.

"mm. so says the one hiding. have you not grown to see such irony?" he grits teeth with upper lip jumping, pushing himself up the wall after lowering to re-grip flashlight. side-stepping further.

"why not come out, hm? your friends have yet to be disillusioned, it seems." though perhaps he is out of touch.

[pinkseas]

[parasocial bestie] NAWT ME TRYING TO GO BACK MY OWN TAG AND LIKE. REMEMBER WHICH TF RESPONSE I HAVE NOT RESPONDED its compulsory i must answer to Everything or i will die so Anyway im throwing everything in one ask HAHA

THE POST WITH THE LYRICS,... XIAOCORE,..... "When you said that I was killing myself / I've killed everything but my shame" indicating xiao wasnt regretting all the hurt he's done to himself be it from his duty or the repercussions bc he knows he Deserves it and takes it without caring any dignity like YOU JUST CANT

and adnd and!! GOWSH IT MAY BE A SHORTER SCENE OBV NOT MAIN FOCUS OR WHATEVER u gonna add in the next xiaolumi fic but i am just. gosh they mean saur much 2 me,..... he's concussed. zhongli frets like a mother. he's concussed what did he do to reach that point how serious it is to get zhongli fret like a mother. i am jUSTTTTTTT

and u. the. the xiao's mom you really went there you madmanwomangirlgnc. i read it all and i am crying sobbing at 4am that time. i am not okay i jsutcant believe this i cannot believe. the traits that she used to have that unconsciously influences xiao and at some point used in an unhealthy way than she intended for him to learn. "she sees no use dwelling in the past", he sees every. single mistake of it, of what he did even if it's out of his will. but also disregarding how he used to be, of that suffering if others know, and with the goodest of intentions- to point out what he's been through makes him deserving of care. my guy twists the morals so he can have his existence barely known so he can continue that quest of redemption he never had to do, or has long been redeemed.

"(she names him alatus, gives him wings the only way she can. may he never be trapped as she was for so long. may he always find a way to fly.) / (funny, really, how that works out.)" I AM LITERALLYYYYY NOT OKAYYYY I AM SO!!!!!! OK BUT I JUST,SF.FSFLDF THINK ABOUT HIS WINGS THE MOMENT U MENTIONED IT like. yeah bird adeptus yes absolutely its always canon but the thing about his wings. like how do you hc he lost it. ppl would go for amputation, or its still salvageable but it's been rendered so bad it doesnt have the strength for him to take flight. id pick one but i cant cuS MAN BOTH HAVE THEIR OWN UNIQUE PROGRESS OF GRIEF FOR HIM,..... to lose flight entirely is to lose part of himself and that's been like that for millenia it gets even harder once he knows lumine had wings before that HAS a chance to be obtained again,..... but for now they share that loss of wings, to feel the wind in your face as you fly higher and higher into the clouds.......

"it isn’t her fault or negligence or neglect that leads to him being taken. it’s the cruelty of the world and bad luck, plain and simple. he remembers missing her. he remembers missing her so much it ached." everytghing that comes after thsis. everything. i just,. im so,... sogdgfg im SO

"he makes her a grave. it takes a very long time. there’s no name and a marker only he would recognize. it’s nothing special. he thinks, distantly, that she deserved more than this. but it’s all he has, and that will have to be enough. and then he does what she always did, what she always taught him to do: he moves forward." dead on the floor

"you cant stop turning to talk to them only to realize you’re facing an empty space. paimon helps. paimon really, truly helps. but she’s her own person, a friend, not a sibling or a twin. not a replacement. not even close." WITH THE WAY I HOLD PAIMON FOR DEAR LIFE, THIS IS A REALITY I HAVE TO FACE AS MUCH AS HER!!!!! SHE IS NO REPLACEMENT!!! so i had to dig one of my other brainrot drafts where paimon had been a lil guilty for not contributing anything to the chasm, snapping at lumine for trying to reason her. pasting that sht here cus it still gets me despite im not exactly a Writer (and i like to put a lil sad quirk that paimon can go off third person in her speech if she's serious on it)

Her outburst was over with a harsh sob, and the pixie looked even smaller than physically possible. Paimon wiped her eyes roughly with a puffy sleeve, and Lumine wondered how contradictive her companion is when it comes to self expression. “... I wanted to do something.” “Not just talking, not just… being like this.” The pixie kicked the air weakly, fiddling with the folds of her shirt. “But it’s why I talk most of the time, so you don’t have to. Maybe then I’ll get to know Teyvat better, and how to get out of things faster. The Chasm was… scary.” 

"Getting trapped there is different than when you were almost split in half most of the time." Paimon rubbed her eyes again, a sniffle too quiet to be heard.  "'Cause your brother won't find you that way, and it means I broke my promise to you."

SO. YEA. paimon my emotional support flying nugget

"it def influenced my own thoughts on the travelers and their powers and how strong they were Before teyvat and how its changed them after" "i keep lumi and aether in that space between mortal and god / theres so much wiggle room and them as gods outside of very specific portrayals doesnt feel right to me / but theyre definitely VERY powerful and very inhuman imo"

PERSONALLY i looooooooove the different interpretations of the twins being primordial gods,.. or like as you said, that space between mortal and god, though to me i dont have a strong enough picture when it comes to defining what exactly they are in nature but def in that little space. cus i like to characterize lumine AND aether as human as they can and are, probably bc im projecting probably bc im a bitchass on a god's ego and personifying that. i revolve the story of the twins' journey regarding humanity, but more on them leaning to feeling human and mortal than a god, bc they HAD been gods before. or at least something equivalent.

and actually? my first impression of the twins to push the hc isnt through these typa fics, its from the theory that tied the twins with hyv's other game honkai impact 3rd; that theyre sort of 'scouts' that travels throughout space for a habitable world while honkai is close to its own cataclysm by Advanced Development being a threat to gods; just like khaenriah. so like. its a mess of a theory i saw long ago but ye kno!! its been stuck in my head since, and it solidifies my thought to lumine acting like a human bc she is, or was, with whatever happened in between turning her and her brother into who they are now. in that little space between.

so like!! for these twins. aether is more empathetic, he understood far more than lumine ever does, bc he doesnt focus on the duty more than the ppl he meets. lumine being the more calculative and speculative twin, doing strategies and being first in the offense- altho aether is the one ready to back her up and in the frontline, her tank and shield. hes more carefree, more kind, what nara varuna had been to the aranara is what he had been still. to cry for the forest people, to cry for those even if he thought; lumine would tell me to think this again, to not rely too much whats in his heart. now without him in the picture, she asks herself her own question. she looks back at how ae would do, would act and think thats not as far as she does. that lumine thinks through logic, and aether thinks through compassion. and then to the present where he's gone and she'd slowly fill the space he had been into her own personality, learning how he had been bc the aether she saw now was not there anymore. like gooooshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh IDKKKKKKKKKK

NO BECAUSE ME HANDSHAKE YOU GOING THROUGH THE TAG TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT HAS AND HASN'T BEEN RESPONDED TO PLEASE THAT'S SO FUNNY OF US

"indicating xiao wasnt regretting all the hurt he's done to himself be it from his duty or the repercussions bc he knows he Deserves it and takes it without caring any dignity" exactly <3333333333333 no bc like. he doesnt Care he doesnt care about how much it hurts him hes so convinced that he DOES deserve it, its just part of his life part of his duty nothing more and nothing less. but that doesnt stop the shame that comes with anything he perceives as failure (which is definitely A Lot Of Things) or shit like being too injured to continue fighting im so. fmgnfgmnfmngmf

it may not be the Main focus but zhongli and xiao's relationship in this fic is basically the second biggest focus beyond xiao himself/the xiaolumi of it all tbh, even before we started talking before The Brainrot Festivals i knew i really wanted to highlight their relationship and dynamic and the way i was portraying them, zhongli will definitely be a very important part of it !! as for. what led to xiao being concussed and zhongli fretting that much. well. smile. im a fan personally although i DO really need to polish up the scene i did it so long ago its such a mess...... god thats ognna be SO fun i should try to do that today

"you madmanwomangirlgnc" GIGGLING SM HELP

"the traits that she used to have that unconsciously influences xiao and at some point used in an unhealthy way than she intended for him to learn." yeah <3333 "my guy twists the morals so he can have his existence barely known so he can continue that quest of redemption he never had to do, or has long been redeemed." NO BECAUSE LITERALLYYYYYYYYYYY its so fucked up i am going to Squeeze Him i am going to pour so much love into him that it overflows and turns into self love on god.

"but the thing about his wings. like how do you hc he lost it. ppl would go for amputation, or its still salvageable but it's been rendered so bad it doesnt have the strength for him to take flight. id pick one but i cant cuS MAN BOTH HAVE THEIR OWN UNIQUE PROGRESS OF GRIEF FOR HIM" w. well you see. the problem is. i have basically Never Thought About This. ive considered him with wings and thought about the Having but not the losing. so here are some thoughts off the top of my head, not all viable in canon but yknow

he still has them, but has rendered himself incapable of true flight. got rid of the flight feathers after rex lapis freed him, quite literally grounded himself in liyue. devotion and punishment all in one. i dont actually like this one too much but it was one of my first thoughts just in terms of wanting him to still have them but flight being out of reach

the god who enslaved him injured them beyond repair very very early on when xiao was doing his best to fight back against it, caging him in more ways than one. a show of control and power over him, a way to further force xiao to bend to his will. with proper care and healing they may have recovered, even as horrifically mangled as they were, but naturally that never happened

he still had his wings serving that god, but those victims who fought back against xiao when he came for them eventually damaged them beyond flight and/or beyond repair in an attempt to ground him and make him less dangerous/take him down

^^^^^ in either of those two above scenarios i like to imagine that the remains still cling to him when he's freed, and either zhongli or the other yakshas eventually help him fully remove them. they're a mess, they're dead weight, and they're never going to heal- he'd rather them gone completely than dragging on him like this, a constant reminder of what he'd (rightfully, in his own mind) lost

zhongli and/or some of the other adepti end up fighting xiao himself before the god who he serves is killed, and it isnt until then that his wings are damaged truly beyond repair and taken from him. he kneels and they're mangled, bloodied and broken, hanging limply from his back, and all he wants now is to die free. he doesnt deserve to live, not after what he's done. but death would be too kind, too, and so he accepts it when his life is spared, swears himself to morax instead. whoever it was who fucked his wings up like that feels awful about it, they approach him eventually to apologize. xiao doesn't know how to tell them how relieved he was to be rid of them in that moment, to have the ties to his past self fully cut. it's easier like this, if he's made anew, made to serve a new purpose, if he can abandon any semblance of love or naivety or innocence he once carried. it hurts something deep inside of him to imagine that that child survived. easier to see him buried, easier to separate himself from it all.

okay i think that's all ive really got id have to take some more time to think abt it ummmm. i think i like the last one the most? combined with the idea that it's zhongli or the yakshas who finally get rid of them? something about someone else being there, xiao not so much as flinching as an entire limb is severed from his body, the literal and emotional weight that vanishes with them. the scars are clean and smooth. xiao neither regrets their loss nor blames the one who ruined them. the wish to have them back goes hand in hand with the wish to have the rest of him back, to be who he used to be, and there's no use in thoughts like that. not anymore.

"it gets even harder once he knows lumine had wings before that HAS a chance to be obtained again,..... but for now they share that loss of wings, to feel the wind in your face as you fly higher and higher into the clouds......." o(-( crying shaking sobbing on the floor YEAH............ that shared loss. god. both of them mourning the freedom it granted them, both of them holding anemo so close to their hearts because it's not the same but it's enough.

LOSING MY MIND OVER YOUR PAIMON BRAINROT GODDDDDDDDDDDD

"'Cause your brother won't find you that way, and it means I broke my promise to you." this broke me. this Broke Me. SHE DOESNT WANT TO BREAK HER PROMISE SHE WANTS THEM TO BE REUNITED....... EUEUEUUEUEUEUUEU

"i revolve the story of the twins' journey regarding humanity, but more on them leaning to feeling human and mortal than a god, bc they HAD been gods before. or at least something equivalent." this FUCKS this is such a good way to look at it and direct it holy shit ??? learning to feel human learning to live as mortal people do learning the values of life itself learning how to love the little things....... man. Man.

"that theyre sort of 'scouts' that travels throughout space for a habitable world while honkai is close to its own cataclysm" i dont know SHIT about honkai but god that sounds so fucking cool and also huge rip to them oh my god... going out to scout a new world On A Time Limit and suddenly its 500+ fucking years later giggling sm

"with whatever happened in between turning her and her brother into who they are now. in that little space between." THIS IS SO GOOD them having been human once and eventually reaching the point where they are now......... g o d

"he doesnt focus on the duty more than the ppl he meets. lumine being the more calculative and speculative twin, doing strategies and being first in the offense" YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH this is something that can be so <3333 and her looking back and thinking about what aether would do THE AETHER SHE'S SEEN NOW ISN'T THERE ANYMORE.... GODDDDDDDDD im so. the mourning that comes with losing a twin, not knowing if they're dead or alive or where or how to find them, the mourning of your other half of always being known of living spent together. and the desperate hope of seeing them again only for that to come crashing down because this isnt who you knew, isnt who you remember, not at all. you are standing in front of a stranger. they still act like they know you, but you dont know them. not anymore. not at all. and that's its own unique kind of grief, to have someone who used to be your everything right there and to know nothing about them.

[wideouts4life]

NFL Week 9

I believe if you’re a fan of football then it’s easy to agree that Tyreek Hill is the best wideout in the NFL without any question. Yes, there are some really good ones who are stars but Tyreek is a Superstar. After 9 weeks he has produced 1,104 yards from 76 catches and 3 touchdowns at the halfway point of the season. Nobody in pads that lines up at wideout can do what he does. Now I see why Mr. Hill left Patrick Mahomes and the Kansas City Chiefs. Quite frankly he bet on himself and it’s paying off humungous dividends for the Miami Dolphins. It also appears the Chiefs and offensive connoisseur Andy Reid under-utilized Tyreek’s skill set. Not having a quarterback who can throw 75 yards I believe is actually helping Tyreek. Most teams don’t double-team a guy under 20 yards and while Hill has gotten behind defensive backs this season, Tua simply cannot push the ball down the field causing Hill to rely on his YAC (yards after catch) in which he has 339 of those. He is annihilating db’s and making it look easy. As Hill was quoted this weekend, “I’m like a kid in a candy store…I’m just having fun.”

Davante Adams was having the game of his life. In the first half of the Oakland Raiders game versus the Jacksonville Jaguars, Adams caught 10 balls on 10 targets for 146 yards and 2 touchdowns. He looked unstoppable. Davante opened up with a catch from the backfield and showed bursts of quickness on his shallow cross and dig rounding out his 2nd and 3rd catch. Before his first touchdown, Adams caught a slant on 4th down where he killed the DB on his release. During his 2nd touchdown he kept his vertical stem 20 yards before declaring post in which Davante made the safety tumble over himself. But as fate, luck, or just how the Raiders season has gone…Davante Adams laid a donut hole in the 2nd half. Of his 7 second-half attempts I marked him down with 3 drops, including a crucial ball he has to make on 4th down to give his team a chance to tie, late in the game. I personally think he was gassed during the whole second half. He cruised out of his break and just looked lazy at the top of his route. If there is anything the Raiders can do to salvage the season I believe its going to start with the wideout core recommitting to excelling the second half of the season and instead of creating excuses look for ways to be the solution the Raiders finish the season with a winning record. 

Cooper Kupp is a beast. I know All-Pro defensive tackle Aaron Donald comes to mind when we talk about who the beasts are for the Los Angeles Rams. But when I look at what head coach Sean McVay and the Rams are asking of Kupp, he has to get the Iron Man award for that team. With a non-existent running game, Kupp alines in the backfield catching swing routes which are basically an extension to the run game. And the same for the quick screens he continues to catch with one almost ruining his season late (under 2 min) against the 49ers in a game they had no chance to win. Kupp caught 8 passes for 127 yards and 1 touchdown on a pretty seam pattern where he turned on the jets outracing 3 Buccaneer defenders for the Rams lone touchdown of the day. 

Justin Jefferson had an easy day at the office. Jefferson caught 7 balls for a 115 yards and 1 touchdown that was one hell of a catch. With the defender draped all over him Jefferson skied like Jordan for the score in the back of the right end zone. Jefferson looked quick and explosive on some of the quick throw catches he caught and played aggressive all afternoon. There were 3 50/50 balls I feel he should’ve caught at least 2 of them. And to his credit he was interfered with on each one. As I prepare to put out my top 3 maybe 4 list in which I have shortened down from 10 because in all honesty if you not top 3, you’re just not that important. But I believe Jefferson is on that cusp of being either #4 or one spot from being a top wideout at the halfway point. 

Rounding out this weeks wideouts who reached the century mark in yards is someone I’ve never heard of. And this would make perfect sense considering the two guys who play in front of him. Keenan Allen and Mike Williams being hurt allowed Josh Palmer of the San Diego Chargers to show coaches what he could do. The 2nd year 3rd round draftee out of Tennessee sure looked as if he belonged. Palmer listed at 6’1 210 played even bigger than his body size. His quickness and speed is one thing that jumped out at me immediately. And he had two nice releases on a deep over and hitch route that impressed me as well. I can see the Chargers being a problem in the second half of the season when they’re healthy and at full-strength. Palmer finished the game with 8 catches for 10 yards and no touchdowns. 

Hopefully before the start of Sunday’s game I will have my mid-season top wideouts list done. Wideouts Lets Go, have another great week of playmaking.