#Either that or I'm just really persistent which is certainly true

[padsmoony04]

My Favorite Headcannon of The Marauders pt.1 (maybe?)

Sooo ... long story short, I was looking for some headcannons about the Marauders (and because I love them and I love these thing of imagine how they would act and behave) I have decided to share with you some of my favorite headconnons about them.

Ps. Sorry in advance on my writing and all of that, my first lenguaje is not English sooo It might contain a lot of grammatical errors. Anyways it's my first time writing here so I hope you all enjoy this <3

| Sirius Black Pt2. | Remus Lupin Pt.3 |

James Potter EDITION.

First things first, you might agree with me, you might not agree with me, but I'm a truly believer that my boy here is certainly the reason the Marauders exist as a friend group. Maybe it was when they met on his first day on the Hogwarts express, kinda like a Harry and Ron dynamic. Or maybe it was at his first night in the castle when he realized who he was going to share his dorm with. Either way, it doesn't matter where, when, and how, but surely it all started with that sweet smile on James's face telling those boys to be his friends.

“It was James who had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match it” THIS! This man was made to love people as much as he loves himself (and that is a lot).

We all already know he's one true passion and incondicional lover, Quidditch, I mean, that boy is obsesses.

He definitely has a lot of things in his wardrobe that have the color red, like shirts, shorts, coats, hats, a pair of convers, etc. And like they all are in different shades of red.

Blind. The boy is nearsighted, surely he has 4 or 6 myopia. And I know for a fact that if his glasses break, and he's not able to fix them, it would be the end of the world for him 'cause he won't distinguish a thing.

He is definitely stubborn, but like very, very stubborn. Tell James that he needs to stop, and for him, I'll be like, You just told him,"Go ahead! do it!".

He's literally a puppy, he's loyal, sweet, playful, he's always there when he's needed, and he also needs a lot of attention and love. Besides, when he makes someone that he cares about mad, he would do this thing of looking at the floor with a pout and regret in his ayes. How I said a literal puppy.

He loves to make jokes, most of them are bad jokes or dad jokes, which means that most of the time he laughs by himself.

He's the real definition of hopeless romantic and the definition of boyfriend material, and you can't change my mind.

He gives me the vibe that if he gets to the dining hall first, he will most likely save the boys a seat.

When he falls for someone, he falls badly. He would talk about that person every chance he gets. And of course, at one point, none of the boys will be able to stand him.

He's really persistent, which could be a positive or negative trait.

He's definitely the "You're doing it amazing sweety" of his friend group, and I'm here for it.

I like to believe that he has the snitch from his first game, which was given to him by Professor Mcgonagall as a memory of his first victory with Gryffindor, and think it's just something really sweet and I love it.

When someone makes a significant comment to him, he stiffens and blushes while blinking several times because he doesn't know how to respond to that.

He's really responsible in school (mainly 'cuase if he fails Euphemia would probably ground him). And yes, he doesn't reach Remus's and Lily's level, buuuut he has a tough competition with Sirius in "Who he's better that who?" When it comes to school.

Just because he's an only child and the complete center of attention most of the time, it hurts him a lot when people ignore him, mainly his friends and the ones he cares about.

He scratches the back of his neck slightly when he is nervous, and he also talks a lot.

He wakes up euphoric on the days that he has a Quidditch match, kinda like Harry when he drank the felix felicis/Liquid Luck potion in the 6th movie.

He is very protective of his friends, sometimes that can be too much, but he can't help it, he doesn't want anything bad happening to his loved ones.

Mommy's boy, all the way, he is literally Euphemia's little baby.

He's a little bit of the jealous kind. Not the toxic type, more of "Oh, that guy, it's flirting with you even though he knows I'm with you" type. (but he's never going to admit it thou).

you made him mad? Well, you better apologize really quick or just vanish. 'Cause whet he gets upset, he turns to the most mean, hateful, and biggest asshole you'll ever see, mainly cuase he's the type to keep his emotions to himsef, so when he explodes? He explodes.

An important fact is that after he "explodes," if he said something hurtful to you, he won't stop apologizing and cursing himself for being an ass until you forgive him.

His least favorite subject is potions, due to the fact that Severus won't stop bragging that he's a thousand times better than him.

If he gets drunk, he's the kind of soft drunk who gives hugs to everyone he comes across.

He is capable of learning about anything he's crush likes just to get into conversation with them.

He likes to stay late in the Gryffindor common room with his friends and talk about anything. It's a routine that he wouldn't change for anything in the world.

James always wanted a younger brother or sister, which explains why he couldn't help to be so happy when Sirius went to him the time he ran away from home.

He lends Peter his invisibility cloak so he can sneak into the kitchen to find food for the main fact that he's tiny.

He's very adorable in winter, his nose and cheeks turn red from the cold making him look adorable.

Talking about winter, the cold breeze gives him allergies. Don't ask me why I just know. Also, he LOVES Christmas as much as he loves Quidditch.

His favorite place in Hogsmeade is the three brooms.

Anyway, when it comes to color red, round glasses, dad jokes, butterbeer, quidditch, romance, loyalty, character, and determination are definitely the perfect words to describe James Potter.

#james potter headcanon #james potter x reader #james potter #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #james potter fanfiction #harry potter headcanon #james potter my beloved #aaron taylor johnson as james potter #aaron taylor johnson #hp marauders #marauders fanfic #the marauders imagine #the marauders #marauders #marauders headcanon #marauders x reader

[sagau-my-beloved]

Hi ! I just wanted to say I really enjoy your writing it’s great . And since requests are open ( and sumeru is coming up ) I was wondering if you could write some sagau sumeru content ? I’d love to see it ! Have a great day / night : D

Sumeru sagau headcanons:

Hello! Thank you so much! I'm super excited for Sumeru honestly

Since I don't currently have a whole lot of information on all the stuff surrounding that, I can really only do basic headcanons, but I would be happy to flesh this stuff out a bit once the content is actually released and we get more solid information surrounding the region and characters and such

But for nowwww

Warnings: Spoilers for the Sumeru trailer, general sagau stuff, vague mentions of death, general obsessive like behavior

• In Sumeru the disappearance/death of their God was particularly painful because of how much it resembled your disappearance

• A being that embodied wisdom, kindness and love, falling tragically to something they could only ever speculate, was almost the exact same as what legend told of your past

• Those stories ended up intertwining themselves with one another, to the point that some of the people in Sumeru considered you and there Archon God one in the same

• Not in a literal physical sense, but some of the more outlandish conspiracies are that their old Archon God was a reincarnation of you in a way

• If you return to Teyvat before the rebirth of the new Dendro Archon, then the people of Sumeru rely on you more heavily than any other nation

• In that instance, they would be a godless nation, and since they already consider you to be so closely related to their former God, it's almost as if this dissension was something of a rebirth for their land and the wisdom it held

• If you arrive after the rebirth when the nation is a bit more stable, which is the most likely situation to happen, you've got a bit more wiggle room

• The people aren't so heavily reliant on you to be their guiding figure then

• But, either way, when you do get to Sumeru, it's going to be very difficult for you to leave

• The people living there often use the serenity and beauty of nature to keep you, why would you rather be anywhere else?

• Their Archon is the youngest, the least experienced, and this can be worrisome for some of them

• They know that having you around would both help with general morale, and the guiding of their realm to what it once was through your hands

• Their land could only truly flourish under your reign of course

• It only makes sense that you, in your all knowing and all seeing wisdom, reside in the nation of wisdom when they need you the most

• All the regions fight to be your permanent residence really, it's considered the greatest honor for them

• And you certainly have a place to stay in each, the work you do requires travel, and why wouldn't you want to indulge in the beauty of your lands?

• But Sumeru is widely known to have pushed the hardest, been the most persistent, sacrifice the most in order to provide you with a place that you would truly want to reside

• A place that you could consider home

• When it comes to forms of worship, each nation is kind of known for offering things that relate to their element

• So in this case, you better be prepared for a whole lot of flowers

• You're going to be absolutely covered in them, almost everything you touch is also going to be covered in them

• And everywhere you step and everywhere you look and—

• You get the point

• They're a domain that is lush in beautiful greenery, of course they're going to use that to their advantage

• Also every single statue of you that is in their domain has a flower crown

• In some of the smaller towns it's turned into a local ritual, who gets to make the daily flower crown that goes on their personal statue of you

• They, like every nation, believe themselves to be your one true successor nation, the one you favor most, the one that is most in your image

• It boils down to the concept of life and death, growing and dying, that's what their domain is founded on when you dig deep enough into it

• And of course, what is more godlike than that?

#genshin impact #sagau #yandere genshin x reader #genshin x reader #sumeru

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

A scenario where the one(s) Ciel is after revenge for is already dead and gone. Sebastian's reaction to being stuck with Ciel till he dies and even then he doesn't get his meal and how Ciel and his soulmate feel. (I'm thinking they just met shortly before Ciel finds out those he was after are dead).

ohohohoho

At the end of his quest for revenge, which spanned years, CIEL was hoping there would be some kind of satisfaction at the end of it.

Instead, he’s left with nothing but a hollow sort of relief as he looks down at the bodies of the people responsible for ruining his entire life.

Is he glad to have them gone? Of course. To know that the proof is right there, that they can never hurt him or anyone he cares about or anyone at all ever again is a weight off his shoulders.

He’s just angry that he wasn’t the one to take them out of this world. It’s frustrating in a way he doesn’t fully know how to describe.

He’s sure the ride home in the carriage is going to be a long one, full of too many thoughts and not enough words to express them all. When he settles in beside (Name), his beloved, the other half of his soul (which will get to exist and persist now), he already knows he’s going to be too tired to sleep.

SEBASTIAN gets as comfortable as he thinks a demon can possibly get across from the two of them. It’s a moment before anyone speaks; presumably none of them really want to address anything that’s hanging in the air. It has to be done, though.

“I should have known a little brat like you would find some way to not keep your end of the bargain, my lord.” Sebastian’s eyes flicker briefly toward (Name), then his gaze returns to Ciel. “Shall I assume you’ve told them of our deal?”

“And everything it entails. Which is now a moot point.” Ciel removes his hat and sets it on the other side of him, his free hand being held by (Name)’s. “Am I correct about that part?”

(Name) squeezes Ciel’s hand before looking over at their soulmate’s butler. “… Is that true, Sebastian? Does that mean―”

Sebastian lets out a small huff; Ciel hasn’t heard this tone since the very first days of this demon serving him. It’s been a while since he let the mask slip. “Yes, it does. Congratulations, you’ve solved the mystery. I no longer get to eat your lover’s soul. What do you want me to do, bake you a pie?”

“Shut your mouth, Sebastian. Talk to them like that again and you’ll be relegated to playing hall boy for a month.” Despite everything, Ciel hasn’t lost a bit of his spine to be ordering Sebastian around. In fact, he feels might he might have more authority than ever before. “I don’t care that you’ve known (Name) for less than six months. I don’t care that you’re upset over this. I don’t care. You will not speak to them with anything less than respect, and that’s an order. It certainly won’t be the last one I ever give you.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. Clearly, he isn’t happy about the situation. Ciel doesn’t think he’d be happy in Sebastian’s position either, but, well, that’s the chance he took with a deal like this, isn’t it? “Oh, yes. Put your ego on full display to soothe your wounded pride, as usual.”

“My pride isn’t wounded, thank you very much. You’re lucky I don’t order you to carve out your own tongue.” The city goes by outside the windows, shrouded in darkness. Ciel spares the buildings a passing glance and, for the first time in a while, thinks about how he might pass his whole life here now.

“… You know,” (Name) murmurs, “I know it isn’t what you wanted, Sebastian, but I’m glad things turned out this way. Now I get to have a future with Ciel, and you won’t just vanish from our lives. Even if you didn’t like it, you’ve taken care of him for all this time. I’m grateful that you’ll be around.”

Ciel snorts, and it’s the first time since the revelation that he’s felt a little lighter. “Even if he acts like a complete bell-end?”

Sebastian’s eyes glow fuchsia as if he’s barely restraining himself from showing off a taste of his full power. “I follow every single order you give me, only to be cheated out of my meal, and I’m the bell-end? I’d like to see someone else do everything I’ve done since I came into your life, in exchange for the promise of a dinner that never comes.”

“And you’ll be continuing to do it until I die,” Ciel snaps.

Sebastian snarls back at him. “Don’t give me any ideas.”

“Ideas we both know you can’t act on, thereby doing nothing but tormenting you? In fact, I think I will.” He smirks. “Just wait until (Name) and I start a family. I can’t even begin to tell you how many nappies I’m going to make you change.”

(Name) beside him bites down on a laugh. “Ciel.”

The rest of Ciel’s life is laid out before him, and he’s so confused as to what he’s going to do with it when he couldn’t conceive of having a future less than an hour ago.

He may not have vengeance, but he has his life back. And he has (Name).

He thinks he’d rather have those things.

#Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Ciel #Sebastian #romantic #platonic #drama #YOOOOOOOOO #he's not even kidding Sebastian is gonna play nanny crow for the rest of his life and change so many diapers XD #one hell of a queue

[fabricated-misslieness]

𝕭𝖑𝖚𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝕷𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘 Chapter 12: the Strongest Survive

Hero Kaeya x Villain male reader

Summary: Only the strongest survive, and if it meant taking away what others clung to, then so be it.

Word Count: 5,000

Warnings: swearing, kidnapping, fighting, death, murder, detailed violence, blood

Mayb’s notes: twang was the wordle word of the day a couple days ago

The City of Oceans had seemed like the best lead. In fact, at the time, it had seemed the correct one. A lot of things about the city lined up with what you knew about the plague and its host. Festivals, orchestras, luxurious balls... It would certainly be too good to be true if your first guess was the correct one. By now, you should've known that it wouldn't be so easy.

It would've been easier if you had more clues. You didn't know much about either Blood Parade or puppeteer, that much was true; but that's why you were travelling anyway. You were trying to learn about both.

How many years would you be on this path? The answer, you didn't mind. What you did care for was for Kaeya. How many years would you keep him away from his post in Mondstadt? How many years until his desertion would become even worse, and turn into treason?

This was a life you had led before: the years of endless, fruitless searching only perturbed by equally endless persuading; the fruit of which kept you settled down for merely a year, after which you took a bite of the fruit and deemed it rotten, spit it from your teeth like it wasn't the fruit hardly worked for by your friends.

Kaeya didn't know this life. All Kaeya knew was Mondstadt and cities. Kaeya didn't know the towns between kingdoms that didn't belong to either one. He didn't know the villages that had to remain entirely self-sufficient. He didn't know the towns that had turn to dust, swallowed by a plague with no cure. He didn't know, he couldn't know or sense, the hopelessness and utter despair of the deceased before their entire lives came to an end.

You didn't want him on this path.

"So that's what they meant when they said you bury yourself in your work."

You spare him a sideward glance, annoyance clear in it, then return your gaze to the ground.

He chuckles, stalking his way over. "I was only joking." He says, "I feel like we need a little bit of that, joking. Especially after–"

"Fontaine," You finish. "yes." You hardly wanted to be reminded of it.

Kaeya rolls his eye at you, not that you can see, and takes a seat next to you. "I would love to know what goes on inside your head, you know."

He wouldn't, anymore, after you tell him your concerns of him. "Personally, I wouldn't say so."

"Keeping me out of your plan, are you?" He asks playfully, offering you a tin cup of coffee.

You take it, gingerly, and shake your head. "No. It's no plan. I'm... pondering."

"Pondering, yes." He tries to say it seriously, but he really can't help but let out a small laugh. "You may have, a sort of, mind palace; but I do not. The silence when we let the horses take a break is quite insufferable."

You sigh. He was quite persistent. "Alright," You can practically sense the smile that lights up his face. "I'll tell you my concerns." He nods, a go-ahead gesture. "Last time I was... searching, I spent five years on it."

"Five?" He asks, a mere peg away from exclamation.

"Yeah." You allow yourself a dry chuckle, really more of a scoff, "Those weren't the brightest years of my life." You take a sip of your coffee, relishing in its warmth and comfort.

When you finish your sip but don't continue talking, Kaeya prods. "So then, what are you saying?"

"I don't want you doing the same."

His eyebrows furrow and his head inclines forward. He understands it immediately, just not why. "And why is that?"

"Fontaine was just a taste of it, the failure. I found that in every corner of the world. And if it wasn't the disappointment of failure, it was the long nights awake of wandering, the restless sleep consumed by work, and the hope of possibilities." You turn to him, finally. He can see the pleading on your face. "I've felt it all before. It's something I don't want to wish on anybody; especially you."

"So you'd rather let yourself suffer?"

You hadn't thought about it like that. Then again, you hadn't thought about anything like that; in the years that Kaeya had known you like the back of his hand, he knew this most. It was always about you. It was like a narcissistic selflessness. You wanted everything for the world. You wanted it to be happy, you wanted it to be better, you wanted it to be perfect yet full of flaw, and it would all have to be in expense of yourself.

He knows the answer to his own question even before you do. "Yes, you do." He answers it himself. "You would rather do anything so long as someone else didn't have to."

"I–"

"I knew you, and you haven't changed a bit. You forget—I started this journey. I asked you to help me." He points a finger at you, his words getting faster, "And you've done all of that and more. But if you think that you're the only one up to the job, you're wrong. I've faced despair too. What do you think happened in the months before your exile? What do you think happened when you played villain? What do you think happened after you left me, for the second time?"

You couldn't answer that.

"When you leave and make yourself the lonely one, you leave me alone too."

When you can't say so much as a sorry, Kaeya turns away from you with a huff. He takes a sip of his own coffee which does the opposite of cooling him down, but he simmers silently in the heat nevertheless.

As silently as possible, anyway. "And I thought our relationship was on the mend."

When you saddled up after the horses had their rest, Kaeya had to make sure you weren't leading him back home. You were travelling away from Fontaine, that much he was sure of. What neither of you knew was where you were going; he just had to make sure it wasn't Mondstadt.

For the moment, you skulked in your disagreement, trotting aimlessly.

He was right, of course, as much as you wanted to deny it. You always wanted him to lead a pure life, honest as can be. You didn't want him to be associated with a villain, but he came back anyway after two years. You left him again, after you'd found your happily ever after. Then, although he hadn't come to you under the best circumstances, he came back again after five years.

You often wondered why people were so persistent with you.

First it was Zero. Out of all your friends, they were the first to find you. They saved your life too. They introduced you to Nieblina, which had become your home in a way. Zero wanted to keep it that way. They wanted you to settle down.

Then, it was Lorelai. You had saved her life instead of the other way around. She was young, wrongfully convicted for being at the wrong place, at the wrong time. You saw yourself in her. You saw someone who could've been given a second chance. Like Zero did, you introduced her to Nieblina.

Then Morden. He was a crazy guy, a wild card, but he could make you laugh for so long, your lungs burned and your mouth couldn't stay closed. You met him in Nieblina; it was his home since birth. He had really shown you the beauty of the town.

They all wanted you to stay and quit your search, and eventually you did.

Kaeya had always been persistent with you. Should you be persistent with him? You knew he was right, but still, you remained stubborn.

"I'm sorry." You attempt to break the silence previously only filled with horse trots and leaves crunching.

"About?" He knew what it was about. He just wanted to hear it from you. As much of an asshole it would make him, he wanted you to admit he was right.

You knew it too. You sigh, "About... asking you to leave."

"Oh, is that what you were doing?" He asks, spite in his tone.

"Yes." Kaeya smiles, though it quickly fades when you say, "But I still don't think I'm wrong."

"If you even think about leaving me behind–"

"It's not 'leaving' you behind, it's protecting you."

"Protecting–!" He chokes on his own spit, too quick in his reply. "Protecting me? Is that what you're calling it? Protecting me!" He scoffs, "Look, you may be a coward, but the people around you are not. We've spent five years apart, I've not gotten weaker. I'm stronger than you know and remember. I don't need protecting."

"Shh."

He's offended that you're shushing him just like that. "What?" He shouts, loud and brash.

"Something's wrong."

Twang!

Suddenly, your horses collapse, falling off their feet and taking you down with them. You both fall off your horses and onto the muddy ground.

You're quick to get on your feet, squatting behind a rock to take cover from whatever might be behind you. But, even if there may be something there, there's also something ahead.

There's something to the right, too, and something to the left. There's people surrounding you, everywhere, and you're only just sensing them.

You just had to argue now, didn't you?

"Lookie here." Someone laughs, emerging from the dark cover of the trees. "I've got myself a bounty target. A Knight of Mondstadt, wanted for desertion. My, you're a long way from home."

Kaeya draws his sword, but he's too far to do anything. He can summon weapons out of ice but, just like you, he could sense the multitude of people.

"We're surrounded." You whisper to him.

"Uh-huh." He confirms. Then, he remembers the story from back at the bar. "Hey, you could deal with dozens of guards, how about bandits?"

"That was an exaggeration. It was, like, four." You reply. "I can certainly try, problem is there's possibly more than a dozen."

"Make that two with bounties!" Someone else calls from somewhere high above you. They had archers which could certainly see you, a luxury you didn't have.

"Two?" The main bandit asks, scanning over your faces again. "Two!" He exclaims.

Then, it dawns on him. Fear washes over his eye and you can see it. "(y/n)!" He stutters out, "Fucking shit!" He disappears into the trees, hiding from your sight. You hear a lot more shuffling as more of their men back up from your position.

You and Kaeya can't find the time to be amused.

The leader clears his throat, hoping to mask his inferiority. "You're surrounded! From north, south, east, west! Even northwest!" He adds, probably bluffing. "The both of you have bounties, one will suffice. That's a hero, if you didn't know, a Knight of Favonius! Clearly, he's trying to fool you. His disguise is good–"

Someone else takes over, seeing as the other was rambling on, "Let us go safely, and we'll let you go!"

You and Kaeya turn to each other. It's almost as if he can see the gears turning in your head. He knew you were going to agree and he fucking hated that. They mentioned his bounty. They were going to leave him back at Mondstadt. Though the method of travel was certainly not going to be safe, the city was.

Before he can reach out to grab your hand, to plead with all his might, you stand from your cover.

"You're lucky I'm feeling generous today."

You don't spare Kaeya a glance, knowing that he's utterly disappointed with you. He was angry, he was upset, he was feeling everything horrible and he had the right to feel that way. You were a coward.

You help Nyx up, grimacing at the evident wounds on her legs. She whines about it, though you have an inkling of a feeling it's not only about the pain. You're not sure why.

"Don't get yourself killed, villain." He quotes your own words.

Your breath hitches and it takes everything in you not to turn towards him, to look him in his starry eye one last time. "Same goes for you, hero."

A safe distance away, in a clearing within the forest, you have Nyx laying down on the ground. Very rarely do horses lay down, especially when they feel as though they're in danger, but Nyx is weak and injured.

You work away at her injuries, cuts caused by whatever thread had tripped her over, both traditionally and magically.

She whines when you press a cold rag over a long cut.

"I know, dearie." You sympathize.

She whines again, as if to tell you that no, you don't know; at least that you don't know what she means.

"What is it, then?"

She presses her soft nose against your head, passing it over and over along the side of it. It was like her way of petting you.

"Is it Kaeya?" You guess.

She licks your hair as if to say yes.

You huff, "You know I can't get him. There were easily over fifty people there." She huffs too. "Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating. But I can't just get him back like it's nothing. If I go back, the deal's broken."

She disagrees with that clearly, digging her hooves into the ground and knocking your hands away from her. "Hey, what are you–?"

She stands determinedly, strong on all four of her legs.

"You stubborn girl." You say, but she doesn't back down. "Okay, fine."

At that, she almost seems to smile.

One, two, three, four. That's how many people there were in other cells along the bandits' hideout.

One, two, three, four, five, six. That's how many people had been sent to Kaeya's cell to shut him up–apparently he was being too loud–and also how many people the Cavalry Captain himself had shut up.

Zero. That's how many more people they were going to send.

At least, it had seemed that way. They hadn't sent someone over for an hour or so now.

Kaeya was bleeding in some places, bruised in others, but his sword stayed in his hand. He sat on the cold, stone ground, leaning against a wall. He was sure he was going to be sent back to Mondstadt, and then maybe he'd get a jail cell there. Maybe he'd be suspended or fired from the Knights, but he was sure he wouldn't be as punished as severely as you were, once.

At least he was going home. His story was not resolved, though. If plague still reaped the soils of Mondstadt, he would set about again. He didn't care if anyone disagreed, most of all not you.

You... you coward.

First, he hears another set of keys unlocking the door. Then, the tip of a sword meets the bottom of his chin, threatening to pierce the skin. He sighs, his gaze remaining unchanging on the floor. The cold metal of the sword taps his skin, as though reminding him that it was there.

"If you wanted me dead, you'da swung by now." He says simply.

A voice he wasn't expecting to ever hear again answers, "You're lucky, then, pretty boy."

Kaeya's eyebrows furrow and he finally looks up to meet your eyes. He groans, "Motherfucker." And disarms you easily with his sword.

Your sword flies up into the air, but you call it back to you with magic. You chuckle, offering a free hand. "Did you really think I was going to leave you?"

"Yes." He replies frankly. You can't blame him. Kaeya takes your hand and stands up with a groan.

"Fuck." You grimace as you stare at his injuries. "You alright?"

"Clearly not." He replies, stretching as best he can without overextending himself or opening his wounds more than they already are. "You can heal me up, can't you?"

"I'd need someone else." You offer with a shrug.

He scoffs lightly, "Can't use yourself?"

"Nah," You reply, "not with the fight we're about to have." He raises a brow, so you explain. "Left a trail of bodies–fortunately silently–to get here. Someone's bound to notice sometime soon."

You had parted hands after helping him stand, but you offer your empty hand back to him again. "I already know this place better than you do. If we're lucky, we can get most of the way out stealthily."

With a huff, especially because you had just betrayed him a couple hours ago, he takes your hand with his own swordless one. "Fine."

You stick to the stone walls, Kaeya trailing behind you. The lighting is dim. These bandits had gotten used to staying in the dark, it was evident in their lair and the way they ambushed you. You couldn't risk creating fire on even the tip of your finger.

You step over plenty of bodies until you round a corner. "Fuck, Derek." Someone sighs. "I actually liked him." Up ahead are two bandits leaning over the body of their fallen comrade. The body was at an archway with two lamps on either side. It was very lucky that they weren't facing the two of you.

"You take left, I take right." Kaeya says. You nod.

You take one down, and to your side Kaeya takes his. He's already taking out his sword, but you keep yours in.

Blood spills from his chest and back where you've impaled him, gushing along each side of your blade. He's very close to death right now. With the remaining life force in him, you help Kaeya heal.

The cryomancer sighs delightedly, closing his eye in relief. "Thank you." He says breathlessly.

"No problem." You reply, taking out your sword and wiping the blood off on the bandit's clothes.

On the other side of the hallway ahead of you, another bandit finds you red-handed. He's about to cry out to his comrades when Kaeya quickly forms an ice dagger and throws it clean at his throat.

"Nice reflexes." You remark.

"Thanks." He says plainly.

He offers you his hand, you take it.

You inch over to the other end of the hallway and drag the fallen bandit behind the entryway so that those coming may not see him and peak your head around each corner. "There's one ahead. Do you want me to take him?"

"Nah, I can do it."

With each corner comes another bandit, either one minding their own business or one leaned over their deceased friend. Each time, you offered to take them down. Each time, without fail, he refused. He said he was fine. He said he could take them.

So you allowed him.

It was awfully perturbing how nonchalant he was about taking a life; to the point where you felt as though this was not the man you left five years ago—in fact, he was hardly the man he was back in Fontaine. He refused to let you kill a bounty hunter then, but here he was with more bounty hunters and he held no remorse.

You suppose you weren't any better, though he was straying from that path you'd hoped from him.

The next time you allow yourself to let your guard down, you're in a strange room. Perhaps you didn't know this place as well as you thought.

"What is this room?" Kaeya asks.

"I don't know." You reply honestly.

"Thought you said you knew this place."

You shrug, "Seems I don't."

"Looks like a treasure room," He gives a guess, "filled with stolen items." Kaeya examines an item on a shelf, taking it from its post and tilting it to observe each crevice.

"Mhm." You agree. You look at items of your own. Each, should you say, trophy varies from the other. There's jewels, books, odds and ends. You're surprised that people like bandits would keep items instead of sell them. A peculiar group, they were.

One item in particular catches your eye, not for its size, luxury or intricacy, but for its simpleness. "A pack of cards." You hum, "Why not?" You pocket the case.

"Do you think they'd be mad if I took a few things?" Kaeya asks playfully.

You snicker, "I think so. But to hell with it. Take a few things." At your 'permission', Kaeya takes some interesting items. It was funny to see, as if he were an amateur petty thief.

And like amateurs, you'd forgotten to take note of your surroundings.

From either side of the room, where you came from and where you were going to go next, the doors burst open. Regular bandits stand on the side closest to Kaeya, their swords are drawn and ready.

At your side, is just one man. Pathetic, really, to break a door down only to reveal just one guy, except... you can sense he's stronger than he looks.

With the wave of his hand, a wall of fire splits the room in half, separating you from Kaeya. He was a wizard.

"Kaeya!" You shout. Fighting has already begun on the other side of the fire. The clashes of steel and shields are loud, even over the thrum of the fire. "I'll find you!"

You can hear him click his tongue, "Those words from before," Don't get yourself killed, "they still apply!"

"They better!" You turn back to the wizard just in time to dodge a ball of fire.

"I thought we let you go." He remarks, preparing to launch another attack.

You create a shield to absorb its magic just before it hits you. "You did. I, on the other hand, didn't."

He rolls his eye at you in annoyance, a gesture you take advantage of. Quick as lightning, you use the magic you'd absorbed and send it back to him. The wizard grabs hold of the doorway in order to avoid getting launched out of the room.

That should teach him not to treat you so lightly. Not that you should've taught him that.

He groans in pain and anger, however, he doesn't allow himself to recover. With both his hands, he rises more columns of fire. They close in on either side of you, but they're slow.

Before they can trap you, you interrupt the wizard's channeling with another attack. It was clear he wasn't used to being on the front lines.

As he recovers from the attack, you launch another. He summons a shield around himself, causing the fire wall to lull. That's it! If you could keep him bombarded, he'd surely falter.

How much longer could he keep it up?

You launch spell after spell, causing him to keep up his shield and the wall to decrease to half its size. You could see the peaks of Kaeya's blue hair behind it.

But casting spells, one after another without a break, that was also hard; especially for a necromancer. You needed something else, another life force, to keep yourself going. You would get that as soon as he was down or as soon as he was weak and injured. He wasn't just yet.

You duck behind cover, a couch or so, to recover. The wizard sees this as an opportunity. He launches a fireball at it, causing it to burn quickly. It doesn't turn into smithereens, rather, the surface burns ferociously.

You jump away, the left side of your cloak singed. You were fond of it too.

Now that your cover was gone, the wizard attacks again. With the flick of his fingers against his thumb, he sends a force of air right to you.

It knocks you back, almost into the wall of fire. You dig your sword into the wood of a table to keep yourself from going further.

Your sword. If he was going to keep his shield up against magic, surely it wouldn't work against something physical.

You draw fire walls of your own up to the ceiling in the form of a maze you could hide within.

You drew several of them at once, so they're weak. The wizard sends more flicks of air into each wall, piercing right through; but there's a lot of them and he'd never be able to guess which one you were behind correctly.

His attacks, however, are relentless. You can hear the frustration in his voice. With each miss, he groans. The sounds lead you straight to him.

The next time he flicks another attack, you lunge at him.

He chokes and doubles over your sword which has impaled his stomach. His fingers dig into the blade in a desperate attempt to pull it out. You obey his last wish, pulling it out and letting him bleed on the floor.

Your walls of fire come down and so do his. You breath in the relief as his magic reserve and life force seep into yours.

You can't relax for long, though. You turn to the other half of the room, only to find it empty of the living. In the middle of your duel with the wizard, you hadn't noticed the clashing of swords stop. The door remains wide open and corpses litter the floor.

Your heart skips a beat.

No. No, that wasn't him, and neither was the body next to that one.

You scan the bodies for his features, hoping to whatever god still calls you their creation that he wasn't there. His eyepatch, his dark blue hair, his beautiful nose; where were they?

They weren't here, and you would breathe a sigh of relief if it didn't leave you with another problem: Where was he?

With long strides, you begin your search.

"Kaeya!" You call for him, even though it brings bandits to you. You didn't care. You went right through them like they were nothing anyway.

Another man falls to your blade. It was all the same.

The walls of this place, in your panicked haze, seemed like a maze. You were mingling in one of your own production earlier, as if you were in your own element. This was far from that. With each twist and turn, it was getting harder to navigate.

The dim lights weren't helping, but you weren't afraid to be loud anymore. You summon a ghostly fire, the light it emits a misty green. It only glows stronger with each foe you take down.

"Kaeya!" All you cared for was finding him. You couldn't lose him, not after leaving him behind and not after coming back for him. You would never forgive yourself if something happened to him.

But what if something did? What if you find him dead, all alone in his last hours?

No, you couldn't consider that.

However, as you go through another hallway take another man's last breath for yourself, your mind drifts of to it again.

What if he was gone already? What would you do?

No.

You had to listen. You had to stay calm. It was just like casting magic; the key was to stay focused. With a deep breath, you call upon death.

It was a dangerous thing, calling upon death. Get too caught up in it, get too unfocused, and you'd be gone. But you had to do it.

For him.

You feel it, death, all around you, but you focus on those close to it. Then, you hear it, the sound of battle. The clash of steal is endless and it is a clear sign of him.

You follow the sound, but with each step you take, it dwindles. You only hope it means he's winning.

"Kaeya!" You call again.

Kaeya is more tired than–he thinks–he's ever been before. Yet, his grip on his sword stays strong.

He had to keep going. He had to persevere. He had to live.

You coming back to him meant you were going to continue this journey together. And if it didn't, at the very least he had to see you again, even if it had to be the last time.

He drags his sword behind him, letting it scrape against the ground. The sound was dastardly but he was too exhausted to hold it up again.

There were so many bandits and so little of him. Even so, he had persisted. The last of them in this room were about to die.

The man below him crawls away from him, scared of him it would seem. He was already heavily injured, hence the crawling, but what if he survived? He didn't deserve that, survival.

Kaeya's gaze remains on him. He takes slow steps towards him.

"No! No–please!" He pleads.

Kaeya doesn't give an answer. Instead, even through his slow walking, he catches up. He heaves his sword up to his head, and with a final groan, he lets gravity take its course.

You finally catch sight of him.

With one hand he leans his weight against his sword, which is stuck in the corpse of another man below him. With the other, he clutches his stomach.

He's tired and it's clear. His chest heaves up and down quick with each of his breaths. His navy blue cloak is discarded on the floor, tattered and torn. Blood stains his shirt and sleeves in splotches. Upsettingly, it covers the smooth expanse of his skin too.

"Kaeya."

He turns to you, ready to face whatever endangers him again; ready to survive.

Instead, he meets your eyes. Kaeya drops his sword, lets it remain in the body of the dead. Even though he's tired, he covers the distance between you with wide, quick steps.

"Fuck." He breathes into your ear.

"Fuck." You agree.

He's got blood and flecks of dried mud all over him, and so do you from your journey here, but he brings you in his arms. The warmth of it, the embrace; it doesn't come from a fire, but it burns just like if it did.

He was here, he was here… and you were here. You were here too.

#kaeya x reader #kaeya x male reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya alberich x male reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #🌸 // success! #blurred lines #blurred lines series #🎟 // genshin impact #🎫 // kaeya #🎫 // kaeya alberich #🌂 // failure

[chickenisamazing]

I know I am loved and I am way past the point of being insecure about my relationships but it still boggles my mind that people choose to spend time in my presence

#T #Like I have a good time with myself but when I think of the experience of being around me as someone who is not me #How does anyone stand that #And yet they do and they do it on purpose and repeatedly so. There must be something they like in there. #Either that or I'm just really persistent which is certainly true

[tomorrow-and-tomorrows]

JJK 149. Mai Zen'in

It’s fascinating for a battle shounen manga to have a character like Mai who is diametrically opposed to the ideals of strength and self-improvement that are usually valourized in this genre. Mai doesn't die because she can’t get stronger, but because she doesn’t want to. And although that attitude is evidently incompatible with an existence within the world and situation she found herself in, there is no negative value judgment imposed by the narrative itself condemning her unwillingness to unlock her "full potential".

JJK has always foregrounded competing worldviews and how individuals’ different perspectives and values can either coexist or conflict with others. Maki's ambition to transform the Zen'in clan vs. the Zen'ins' regressive conservatism; Gojou's vision for the jujutsu world vs. the higher ups' ; Yuji's "I want to save everyone" vs. Megumi's "I choose who I save" ; Mei Mei's "I'm on the side of money" vs. Nanami leaving a lucrative job to save people out of compassion, and so on.

So it's particularly impressive that, while operating within the shounen genre, the story continues to maintain its respect for this ideological diversity by preserving Mai’s belief in her own worldview to the very end. Simply put, not everyone wants to become powerful even if they may have the potential to. Not everyone wants to live a life of violence, and not everyone wants to be a saviour for others at the direct expense of their own sanity.

It would be perhaps the more optimistic yet potentially oppressive narrative move to demand for Mai's character to undergo a transformation from a character who resists the shounen ideals to one who accepts them. This type of transformation would by no means be inherently negative; I'm definitely not saying that going down this path would have been bad for Mai's character or for the story. But it would succumb to a temptation to move towards a kind of 'sameness' rather than difference in its depiction of ways of acting in the world. I think Mai's ending is all the more striking because it resists this temptation.

Because I think that the more typical - and optimistic - development arc for Mai would have been for her to learn how to be willing to become stronger as a sorcerer and eventually fight alongside Maki.

But instead, Mai never ends up conforming to those dominant values of strength and ambition. Neither is she subjected to the kind of development traditionally favoured by the genre that are along the lines of, 'you just need to believe in yourself and work hard' -- because if we really think about it, often times a lot of feats in shounen are accomplished by sheer willpower and self-conviction. (JJK is not always an exception to that trope, nor is it necessarily a bad thing!). Mai had previously firmly stated her opposing point of view, and this essential attitude never changes even when we perhaps most expect it to.

In this situation, rather than working to improve her technique to create stronger objects without it costing her life, Mai passively accepts that her weakness will require self-sacrifice.

It’s a fatalistic attitude resulting from having never wanted to partake in a life of violence and hardship.

On the one hand, inflexibility and the inability to adapt are not exactly commendable traits; Mai is certainly fixed in her resignation and refusal to work towards her full potential as a sorcerer. On the other hand, to use Nanami's words, being a sorcerer is shit. All the suffering and regret in the story so far has only continued to reaffirm that sentiment. So we also can't fully condemn Mai for rejecting that way of life to the extent that she would rather sacrifice herself than to push forward to have her own "shounen power-up" moment. Because the aftermath of that would be a path likely filled with death, brutality, and suffering.

The wish to live a normal life is a legitimate and valid one. In an ideal world, her clan would not punish her for it. In an ideal world, opposing perspectives, especially ordinarily pacifist ones like Mai's, would be allowed to exist. Mai having to die because she was unable to escape or adapt to the ruthlessness of the jujutsu world exemplifies how cruel that world is. Mai's persistence in her wish for a normal life, and her "failure" as a sorcerer is not her failure at all; her death reflects a failure of the violently rigid jujutsu clan culture.

In this light, it is all the more tragic that Mai's death was entirely preventable, and fated not by the inevitability of actual "fate", but rather entirely by a radically traditionalist clan system.

At the same time, as I mentioned earlier, I find it impressive for Gege to have allowed Mai to hold onto her values. Just as Maki has always stayed true to her dreams of overturning the Zen'in clan by becoming a powerful sorcerer, Mai has always stayed true to her resistance to that dark and difficult path. From a writing perspective, I think it's interestingly respectful to Mai's character in that way. It's also for this reason that I consider this chapter to be a worthy good-bye to Mai, as she is faithful to her own way of being in the world until the end. It may not conform to the demands of the optimistic self-improvement narrative generally preferred by shounen, but it is a valid perspective, and it is never depicted to be 'lesser than' or 'inferior to' the shounen narrative.

I'm always interested in stories in which there is a genuine dialogue of a diversity of voices, each with their own perspectives and viewpoints even as they conflict with each other - or in other words stories that prioritize 'difference' over 'sameness' in ways of being, thinking, and acting. It's not necessarily uncommon - most if not all stories will feature different character motivations within a given cast. But I think JJK does this particularly well in a particularly convincing way, and 149 is further confirmation of this for me.

Finally, it is notable that Mai herself seems to acknowledge this sentiment. She may have been unwilling to imagine a stronger future version of herself, which is opposite to the advice Gojou had given Megumi if he wanted to reach his full potential. But she died for the sake of believing in the stronger future version of Maki, and this is how she is victorious even in death. All the way to the end, Mai had her way of viewing and acting in the world in her individual way, and Maki had hers; importantly, Mai ends up encourages this difference. Right after she states that "You are me, and I am you", that sameness is undercut when Mai immediately after points to their contrasting motivations:

Mai ultimately encourages Maki to live in the way that Maki wants to live - to the fullest potential of her power and the fullest potential for her capacity to force change upon a corrupt system. Before, Mai had resented Maki for moving on without her ("why didn't you fall down the hole with me?") - she resented how Maki couldn't be the same as her in how she viewed the world. In her final chapter, Mai conversely acknowledged that she herself could never see the world exactly the same as Maki.

Therein lies the cornerstone of her character development; before, she resented that difference between them for those twofold reasons. In the last moments of her life, she no longer resents Maki for moving on without her; she encourages her to move forward into the future. It is of course undeniably tragic, as it must be a future without Mai. And no amount of power gained from such a loss could ever be consolation for that tragedy.

It is fitting, then, that Mai's final message to Maki is full of despair -- yet it is also not without hope. In the interplay between 'construction' and 'destruction', it is ironic yet poetic that Mai wished for her object-construction technique's final and greatest creation to be used to destroy - indeed, to "destroy everything". There is undoubtedly despair both in that command, and in Maki's drive to destruction when she emerges from that room. But somewhere, somehow, there must also be the hope that that destruction will be in the service of "construction", of creating a better future for others, even if it is too late for it to be a future in which they can live in together.

#jjk meta #jjk 149 #mai zenin #maki zenin #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk manga #jjk theory #zenin maki #zenin mai #jjk manga spoilers #jjk spoilers

[captains-simp]

Carol Danvers ~ Two Sides Of The Same Coin

Chapter 1: Audacity

The bounty of a lifetime isn't one you're about to turn down, despite the life threatening challenges and rivals. The most irritating of which is an intergalactic superhero who becomes insistent on aiding you, whether you like it or not

Two

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"For the hundredth time, I don't know where he is! Either buy something or go someplace else."

Fuck, another dead end.

You searched the bartender's irritated eyes for any trace of a lie, already knowing you wouldn't find any but still holding onto a glimmer of hope you would catch a trace of something.

Nothing.

What had hope ever gotten you anyway?

"Just some Asgardian ale." You muttered. You really shouldn't have been buying such an expensive drink. Not to mention wouldn't be able to have much of it due to your plans of not passing out drunk that night. But you were just as frustrated and tired as the bartender.

A break could help. You lied.

You paid the bartender and tried to ignore the harsh feeling of regret already being planted in your gut. At least the alcohol would get rid of that - before it got worse.

Taking the glass, you dragged yourself to the back of the bar towards the corner you thought you wouldn't be disturbed in. That was usually the kind of environment you had your best ideas and tactics planned. The noise stopped your mind from wandering and the low level allowed you to concentrate. Even the slight buzz of the alcohol had its advantages.

But there was no success that night.

The bartender knew nothing. He was your final lead who would corporate with you. The next person you visited would be far less welcoming.

You had known that would happen when you accepted the job. It was going to be the hardest one you ever did, and the most rewarding. You had to keep reminding yourself that.

You're going to make a lot of enemies. You warned yourself for the hundredth time that week. It was true, you would. The number of people you could trust would plummet. You would have your own hit on your head. Was that really something you were prepared for?

I already have. Nothing will change. I've prepared for this. This is the bounty of a lifetime.

You were staring into your glass when she sat down. Her blonde locks were a blur in your peripheral, a momentary distraction from the recognisable colours of her suit.

It was hard to comprehend it for a second. She had arrived so suddenly and caught you unaware. Something you weren't familiar with. It was unnerving.

You sat upright and met her studious gaze. She was watching you carefully, as though trying to get a read on you. You did the same.

You had always wondered, maybe even hoped, that you would meet her. You were in two different lines of business but it wasn't like you hadn't crossed paths with heros before. There was usually some kind of mutual understanding, even some respect. You were quick to learn there wouldn't be any of that from her - not in that bar.

"Y/l/n." Carol stated, as though the pair of you were already acquainted. But it was far from a warm greeting.

Part of you wondered if you had done something illegal in your last job. Usually things like that were never dealt with, no one had the time to be chasing around bounty hunters when they were practically always on the move (and you saved the authorities a lot of trouble).

"Danvers." You replied. Both of you maintaining your stoic expressions.

"Captain Danvers." She corrected. You didn't acknowledge that and made no effort to correct yourself, wondering if it would damage that ego you had heard so much about, so she continued. "I've heard you have some information that could be of interest." She said. You didn't like where that was going. "What do you know about Daexire?" Fuck all. "Working progress." She quipped an eyebrow at that and waited for you to elaborate. You hoped she would be quick to catch on that you weren't much of a talker and that you had no interest in letting her swoop in to take your bounty.

"Do you know where he is?" God, no.

You breathed deeply through your nose before you leant forward onto your arms and flicked the side of your glass. The sound carried between you for a brief moment.

"Do you really think I would be sat here if I did?" Carol's eyes flicked down to the liquid in your glass, took in your outfit then finally returned to your slightly narrowed eyes.

"I wouldn't be surprised." You put a lid on the anger starting to replace the regret in your guts.

You were about to assure her that wasn't what you did, that whoever had told her about you didn't know you at all. She started talking again before you could, not picking up on - or maybe just not acknowledging - the trace of annoyance that may have slipped. You blamed the alcohol for that.

"Do you know anyone who does?" You did. That was a long list you were working through. Daexire was a famous man. But he was also a feared and respected one. Both were hard to overcome.

"I don't." Had it been another bounty and another hero, you would have told them. However a bounty like it wouldn't come up again, it was what you needed to escape that life you had forced yourself into. And Carol's complete disregard of your capabilites was definetly something that was going to encourage you. Maybe your pride was a little fragile.

Carol narrowed her eyes at you for longer than you were comfortable with, because you both knew she didn't believe you. You also both knew that you wouldn't tell her anything different. Yet she persisted.

"Daexire is a powerful man. He abuses that power and will continue to do so until he's stopped." The seriousness of her voice had a small voice in the back of your head urge you to tell her what she needed to know. She was right. Daexire was powerful, and so was Carol. But you knew what you were doing too.

"So I hear." Was all you said as your eyes stayed fixed on hers.

"This is serious, y/l/n." Carol warned.

"So I hear." Her jaw clenched firmly at that. You were glad to see you had gained the upper hand in some way. It certainly encouraged you.

"You're in way over your head with Daexire." It was your turn to clench your jaw. She didn't even give you the benefit of the doubt.

"And what makes you think you're not?"

Without a word, Carol held her arm out at her side and aimed her fist at an area over your shoulder. Swirls of yellow light flowed around her fist with spikes of blue and red among it.

There was no time to admire the lightshow. A blast of energy left her fist and fired across the bar, sending everyone into panic.

Everyone ducked down to avoid the blast and it's damage but you weren't focused on them, or even the photon blast. Sure, it was a little close for comfort, but Carol wouldn't hurt you. That you were certain of.

"You want to distract Daexire with a lightshow?" You quipped, feigning disinterest. Carol was far from pleased with that.

"You're going to get yourself killed trying to capture him." She no longer held herself back, set on saying something to make you second guess your stubborness. "Just tell me who can lead me to him and it will all be over so much quicker." Carol was growing impatient and didn't try to hide it, or perhaps she was unable to. You had been taking the piss more than anyone had in a long time.

"I can handle myself and I can handle Daexire." Your confidence in your knowledge and abilities had never failed you before.

You downed the Asgardian ale in one before Carol could get another word in. Embracing the instant, electrifying burn of the alcohol, you stood up from your seat and left the bar without looking back at Captain Marvel.

* * *

"I don't know anything." He was lying through his teeth, which were currently tainted a light red from the blood in his mouth.

Just as you had guessed, your visit wasn't welcome. The moment he opened the door to you he tried to slam it in your face upon recognition, instantly attempting to flee through the back door. He had put up a fight when you caught him - a surprisingly long one - that had ended with him tired to his own chair while you looked around the house and asked him questions.

You found nothing. You knew Daexire never liked having a paper trail of his work, but you would be kicking yourself if you didn't try.

"What was the last thing you designed for him?" You asked as your eyes wondered across the mantelpiece.

The man, Owen, was renowned for his weapons. They weren't exactly your style, but you had seen enough close up demonstrations of those weapons to know they were efficient to say the least.

They were all overtly large and had a hell of a kick to them (and must be a joy to try out) not to mention the most expensive weapons on the black market. So it was no surprise there had been countless rumours that Owen had designed one or two things special for Daexire. Whether it was a spineless ass-kissing attempt, a try for an alliance or just fear of being on Daexire's bad side, you weren't sure.

"Nothing. I've never had any business with him." You didn't have to turn around to know he was lying. Having him in your peripheral was enough.

"You're not getting out of that chair until I'm satisfied with what you tell me." You said, eyeing the figurine of an old fashioned Earth car.

"I have nothing else to say." Owen scowled.

"Maybe we could have a chat instead?" You spun around at the sound of the cocky voice.

Carol met you with an arrogant smirk at the sight of your confusion, wanting to know how she had snuck up on you without you noticing...again!

You watched her in annoyance as she strolled across the room towards Owen.

"Seems like you do know people who can help, y/l/n."

"Must have slipped my mind." Not bothering to conceal the lie. Carol hummed in response and trailed her focus back to Owen.

"Daexire. Where is he?" Carol demanded in a no-bullshit tone. You watched Owen  carefully, curious to see if he was going to respond differently to the arrogant blonde, that would definetly be irritating.

"I already told that crazy bitch," he nodded in your direction, "I don't know." That wasn't a lie. He really didn't know. That didn't mean there wasn't other things he could share.

Carol clearly hadn't come to the same conclusion. In a second she had her arm raised and fired a photon blast across the room, making a prominent indent in the wall. That's getting annoying really quickly.

"He really doesn't know." You said as you leant back against the wall, your arms crossed as you watched the interaction.

"And how are you so sure?" Carol asked, completly unconvinced.

The corner of your lip twitched into a small smile. You weren't going to let Carol in on your secrets. At least not yet.

"I just do. So leave it."

"No chance." The swirls around her wrist started up again and this time Carol levelled her arm to Owen's chest. She wouldn't...would she?

Owen seemed skeptical too, willing to try his luck. "You're not going to kill me."

"Who said anything about killing? There isn't just one level to this thing, you know? It could just hurt...really badly." Carol left her implications hanging in the air as you both watched Owen fidget in his seat.

"I really don't know where he is-" Carol's fist lit up more and a soft hum emanated from it warningly. "Because no one does." He said in a rush, turning his face away. "He knows about the bounty and he doesn't trust anyone right now." Owen explained as fast as he could.

Carol glanced over at you, much to your surprise, and you nodded. He was telling the truth.

"So he's scared?" Carol asked, still holding her fist close.

"He's preparing."

"For what? Me?" You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore Carol's I'm-the-centre-of-the-universe attitude.

"For anything." That had you wondering just how many people were going after Daexire. You had assumed it would be very few. For most they wouldn't even come close and if they did it would be certain death.

"And that's all you know?" You knew it needed to be asked, but you hated that question because you were already certain of the answer. You looked up to have your thoughts confirmed. Truth.

You walked towards Owen and took a knife from your belt. He leant away for a moment but relaxed when you started cutting the ties.

Another dead end. You pondered if the knowledge that a lot of people were after Daexire would help you at some point. You knew you shouldn't let that optimism distract you.

"Thank you for your cooperation." Carol said in a mocking business woman tone.

Owen made the smart decision of not responding and rubbed his wrists as he watched the pair of you leave with another scowl.

"So where now?" Carol asked as you stepped out the door of the house with the blonde right behind you.

"Were you following me?" You accused as you took a step back to put some space between you.

"Yep." You didn't know if it was that Carol knew you would see through her lie or just that she wanted to declare that with some pride. The smug look on her face told you it was the latter.

It has been a couple days since your meeting in the bar. You would be lying if you said Carol hadn't popped up in your mind since then, wondering if you had made the right decision in brushing her off. But you really hadn't expected her to be following you.

"Well stop. This isn't happening." You motioned between the pair of you and made your way back to your ship to consider your options.

"I helped you out in there!" Carol called out as she jogged to catch up with you.

"You did fuck all." You scoffed. She didn't have a reply for that. You weren't entirely right - she did help - but you would have been fine on your own. Interrogation was something you excelled at. It wouldn't have taken you long to get those answers on your own.

"I can help." She insisted.

"Then help yourself, Danvers." Deliberately not calling her Captain.

You remotely opened the cargo door of your ship from the device around your forearm before you turned around to get another look at Carol.

"And don't follow me." You said as the door closed. She made no objections, but something told you you would be seeing the blonde hero again.

#enemies to lovers #brie larson #captain marvel #captain marvel imagines #captain marvel x reader #carol danvers #carol danvers imagines #carol danvers x reader #marvel #enemies to allies to lovers #captain marvel imagine #carol danvers imagine #captain marvel series #carol danvers series #mcu

[siennahrobek]

“He’s holding me back,” Anakin snarled as Obi-Wan carefully paced a cup of steaming tea in front of him. He had come to the older master quite readily after he and Qui-Gon had joined their crew. Getting picked up by a fleet of venator class destroyers could either be incredibly embarrassing or quite impressive. Obi-Wan isn’t entirely sure which Anakin thinks. He had steeped Anakin something sweet and calming; exactly what the young knight needed. It was pretty much what he needed all the time, to be honest. The boy had more than just a bit of a temper.

Being around Qui-Gon Jinn didn’t exactly help.

The man rather indulged him.

Obi-Wan shrugged as he sat down on the opposite side of the thin table, shifting the cup towards Anakin and pulling his own closer. He made direct eye contact as he took a sip. Usually, it would prompt Anakin to do the same. In the company of certain people, Anakin sometimes mirrored others’ actions. Obi-Wan was one of those people. “Perhaps. But you are no longer a padawan. A knight in your own right,” he assured gently. He honestly doubted that Qui-Gon was actually holding Anakin back; Obi-Wan was fairly certain no one could really hold him back.

Sometimes however, he could be convinced to step back once in a while. It was a rare occurrence, but it had happened before.

“He’s jealous of my power,” Anakin snapped, nearly cracking the mug his fingers were laced around. Obi-Wan gently put a hand over his to stop it and pull it away. Anakin’s fingers were trembling in the jedi’s own and Obi-Wan gave a gentle, assuring squeeze before he pushed the mug a little further into Anakin’s purview.

In the end, Obi-Wan had actually snorted. The concept was rather ridiculous, his master being anything of the sort. Anakin was thinking things, perhaps even told things like this, but it couldn’t be the truth. “Doubtfully,” he muttered, something low but able for the younger man to hear rather clearly. He cleared his voice to continue. “Qui-Gon Jinn isn’t jealous of anyone, least of all you, Anakin. Take a sip, you will feel better.”

He hesitated but Anakin did so, mirroring Obi-Wan. They drank in silence, but the air was turning more comfortable. Tension bled from his shoulders as they released, and he slumped down a little bit. Anakin’s temper always seemed to be running high these days and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he could help in a way that Anakin really needed. He only, currently, had momentarily solutions to a bigger issue.

“A bit better?” he asked. He knew the answer.

“Yeah,” Anakin admitted begrudgingly with a sigh, shaking his head. He glanced over down below the balcony and then back at Obi-Wan, something sad but fiery in his eyes. It was a rather strange combination, Obi-Wan had to admit. “I should be out here, with you. In the war. Fighting.”

“It is not as glamorous as you are thinking it is,” the older jedi just hummed, taking a sip of his own tea and once again, Anakin took his own sip. He wondered if the younger man realized what he did.

“I know that.”

“You don’t,” Obi-Wan refuted but it was kind and patient, shooting a look to project that when Anakin stared at him, a bit angry at his counter. He didn’t like people contradicting him or telling him what he knew. Usually he wouldn’t, but Obi-Wan knew that Anakin had no idea what war was actually like. Not like this. Obi-Wan just tried to keep himself as serene and enduring as ever, to deal with Anakin’s irritated and frustrated disagreements. “I would not expect you too, either. Master Jinn is right about one thing, we shouldn’t be fighting a war.”

“You agree with him?” Anakin sputtered, surprised. The concept was befuddling to him and Obi-Wan wondered what exactly he knew about the war. Master Jinn was certainly not favorable; he couldn’t imagine the older master saying anything nice about it. Perhaps he even spun falsehoods. “Then why do you?” Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan looked over the ledge that sat about the rest of the mess hall, off to the side. Down below them was the rest of the mess hall and cafeteria, littered and crawling with troopers. Obi-Wan could feel them, he could always feel them. They filled him with such warmth and care, it made it just a bit easier to get up each morning and fight in a war that he could not stand being in. Yes, it was to protect innocents, but he reminded himself everyday that he could do what he had to protect as many as them as well. “Reach out and tell me what you feel,” he added. It was more of a suggestion than a demand but rarely did Anakin see that kind of difference.

Anakin sighed and rolled his eyes, staring at him intently. “You are not my master, Obi-Wan.” This much was true. Anakin was a knight, he no longer needed – or wanted for that matter – a master telling him what to do, but Obi-Wan had a point. At his core, he always knew he would be a bit of a teacher. He always had a point.

“Humor me,” Obi-Wan glanced at him with a kind smile.

The younger man just sighed again, loud and dramatic, and eventually complied. He looked over, beyond the railing, down in the large room that harbored so many soldiers. Some of them were in their amor uniform, usually sans helmet and others in blacks. Officers had their own uniforms that they were hardly out of, whether they were clone or not. A minute passed. Two.

Obi-Wan just waited patiently.

But then. “What do you feel?”

“They are warm,” Anakin acknowledged, his voice starting to soften, just as Obi-Wan spotted his eyes doing the same. “Brighter than I expected them to be. “They are strong, loyal, determined. Doing their best and being their best. They care about one another such certainty and persistence.” His smile was gentle and kind, lacking the fiery passion that usually inhabited him.

He could make friends here, Obi-Wan thought.

But Obi-Wan just nodded and Anakin looked back at him. He was still in a bit of a daze, probably from seeing and feeling all that warmth and light, but he was still listening, probably expecting Obi-Wan to tell him his point for the exercise. Whether or not Obi-Wan would say anything, he knew that Anakin didn’t quite regret what the older master had asked of him. “They are living and breathing beings. Sentients with hopes and dreams, whether they admit it or not. Whether they consciously know it or not,” he started. Many times, had he heard that the soldiers only dreamed of the survival of themselves and their brothers from one day to the next and didn’t think of the future that they may have afterwards. Although Obi-Wan believed them, when they said such things, he also thought they had subconscious desires and dreams for that future. Hopes for it. Even if they hadn’t been able to quite realize them yet. He truly hoped he could help them get to that point.

“I know they are,” Anakin added quietly, staring down at his tea before taking a small sip, unprompted. Obi-Wan counted it as a win. It was hard enough for Anakin to drink tea, even when he knew it helped him.

“They are a large reason why I do this. Why I must,” Obi-Wan responded, just as soft, staring down at the gently swirling liquid in his cup.

Anakin glanced up at him, his head turning a bit. “What do you mean?”

Obi-Wan pointed to the corner of the mess hall, a small table inhabited by non-clones and non-jedi. There weren’t many of them, but Anakin had a thought that it was rather on purpose. They packed together, rather tightly and did not move away from their specific table, keeping together and not milling with anyone else around. “What do you feel from them?” he asked, a bit abruptly.

Anakin groaned again but it was light and only half-hearted, but did so, taking a breath before letting his eyes sweep over the room and then settle on the table in the corner. He closed his eyes briefly and reached. With a frown, he started to speak, to explain what he felt. It didn’t appear that he liked what he was feeling, what he found in them. “They…aren’t happy. But…not in the sense of war, not in grief or sadness but like, they are dim, displeased, annoyed. They feel…disgust? Indifference?”

Obi-Wan nodded. He had felt it.

“Do they…are their feelings because of the clones?” Anakin asked, startled at the thought and pending realization.

“Sometimes, yes. Those few right there think of the troopers much like the rest of the galaxy sees them. As though they are droids encased in flesh; worthy only to be cannon fodder,” Obi-Wan explain, only sparing those men a quick glance. He looked back at the troopers that made up most of the room and Anakin could feel him softening again.

Anakin’s lip curled as a snarl escaped out. The thought made him angry.

“They do not care so much for casualties, only absolute victory, no matter the cost,” Obi-Wan continued. “If they jedi were not here to use tactics and ideas that wouldn’t decimate the numbers…I imagine it would be much worse,” he sighed, shaking his head with a deepening frown. “The clones are so willing, so eager, so loyal. I do not quite understand how anyone can meet them and not love them.”

“You are trying to save them,” Anakin said and felt pushed around by the appreciation and care for the troopers. It was interesting to feel. Jedi were known for their compassion and kindness, their wiliness to help others, sometimes even at the cost of their own lives, but it felt a bit different with the troopers. Anakin was beginning to understand why the jedi may have chosen to enter the war; if only to try and help in any way they could. There was something different about these beings. Like they were somehow intertwined with the jedi. Made to be friends, to work together, made for one another in a way that was profound, and one Anakin couldn’t quite understand or comprehend in words. He wondered if others had noticed this.

“I am not so naïve to think I can do so,” Obi-Wan replied, breaking through Anakin’s thoughts. “But I want to get at least as many as I can through this war. They…care about us in a way we don’t generally see associated with the jedi. The least we can do is try to get them through this and return the favor the best we can.”

“Do other jedi feel this way?” Anakin hadn’t even realized he had spoke for a moment, verbally saying what he had been thinking just seconds prior. Sometimes he felt so different than others, like he was the only one who could connect on the level that he did. Like he was an exception.

Master Qui-Gon thought he was an exception.

Obi-Wan nodded and there was absolutely no hesitation to it. “Not everyone of course, but most, at the very least. Even if we hadn’t been drafted into the war, I think the Council would have done the same.”

“Drafted?” Anakin blinked.

“Yes.”

“Wait. So, the Order was forced to join the war?” Anakin asked incredulously because…that was not what he had heard. Over a year in and this was the first he had heard of such a thing.

Obi-Wan hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should be the one giving this information, like he wasn’t sure if he should be the one having this conversation, but his brows furrowed, and he nodded. “Yes, Anakin,” he replied slowly. He had to be careful with how he spoke. Anakin’s friendship with the leader of the Republic was not exactly a secret and everyone knew how protective Anakin was of his friends. “The Chancellor made it…very clear we did not have much of a choice.”

“Master Qui-Gon said you chose it,” Anakin responded, and he sounded numb, his voice just kind of dropping off in surprise.

You, Obi-Wan mused with darkening thoughts. Had Qui-Gon meant Obi-Wanspecifically chose this or was Qui-Gon distancing himself from the jedi already? Had his old master turned Anakin against the jedi; made him see himself an exception for everything? Chosen one or not, Anakin was a jedi. That was not to change unless Anakin chose to change it. But one could not continue to truly be a jedi if they thought of themselves as exceptions to the rules, to the guidelines, to the faith of their culture.

“No, Anakin,” his voice came out nearly as a croak. “The Order was drafted.”

“But Master Jinn…” Anakin drifted off, staring down at his tea. There was barely any of it left. “If the Jedi were drafted, not everyone is involved. Master Jinn, he…he’s not a part of it.”

“We found a loophole for him,” Obi-Wan confessed and it felt a bit different when he spoke it. He found a loophole for his former master; to ease the mess. He couldn’t imagine what Qui-Gon would have done or said if they hadn’t kept him out of it. Whether or not it was the right choice, Obi-Wan knew, even if they could get Qui-Gon to work within the confines of the war, he would almost certainly have become Obi-Wan’s problem. And Obi-Wan dealt with his old master enough as it was. “He was rather vehement in his stance on the war, so we claimed his injury and ability would make quote useless on the battle field,” he explained.

“His injury?” Anakin echoed.

“From Naboo.”

Anakin nodded in sudden understanding but his gaze was far off, nearly vacant, like there was something happening in his mind, wheels turning that not even Obi-Wan could fathom or comprehend. “I guess that is smart. He wouldn’t have listened anyways,” he confessed. It sounded rather fond, which wasn’t surprising. Anakin’s soft and often blind spot when it came to Master Jinn was always apparent. He loved Master Jinn’s blatant disregard for rules, to follow what he thought and believed was the will of the Force. Whether or not it actually was the Will of the Force, it hardly mattered. It was the will of Qui-Gon Jinn.

Qui-Gon often seemed to believe that he was the only one who really understood the will of the Force.

At this point, everyone was too tired and too busy to even try to argue with him. Not that anyone wanted to argue with him because it never did anything, never got anywhere. One could not change Jinn’s mind, could not shift his perspective or make him think in any other ways.

“Quite,” Obi-Wan agreed.

“I wasn’t forced,” Anakin realized quietly after a long moment of the two sitting in silence, sipping what was left of their tea, not lukewarm. “I wasn’t even asked,” he added.

“That is partially my doing,” Obi-Wan confessed. He knew he would have to have this conversation at some point, and he had been dreading it ever since it had been done.

Anakin surged in anger and Obi-Wan could feel it. It was fairly certain everyone could feel it. The troopers in particular seemed rather sensitive and knowing of a jedi’s moods and projections. “Why?” Anakin demanded. “Did you not think I’d be good enough for-?”

“Anakin, calm down,” Obi-Wan said, quickly slipping in his own before things could get any worse and his projections stronger. “Take a sip of your tea.”

There was not much left but there was enough. Scowling, he complied.

“Qui-Gon was already going to disown me, and I knew how you feel about him, and you were still a padawan at the time…I didn’t want the same to happen to you,” Obi-Wan started. He wasn’t sure how to explain this but he would do his best with what he had on hand.

“I’m not you.”

Ouch, that stung. It was true, of course, in many more ways than Anakin knew, but that hardly made it hurt any less.

“That came out wrong,” Anakin nearly winced.

“You aren’t wrong. You aren’t me,” Obi-Wan said, which, of course, was always true. Lucky him, the master thought. He didn’t say that Qui-Gon loved Anakin in a way that he was still incapable of caring for Obi-Wan. It wasn’t either of their faults and Obi-Wan knew a lot of the blame could be found on Xanatos and the Chosen One prophecy, but that hardly made it any easier to live and deal with. It could very much be exhausting. Anakin didn’t see it, not yet, and Obi-Wan still isn’t entirely sure if he ever would. “But that does not mean he would be happy with it. You know how he feels about the war, about my part in it. About the jedi’s part in it. I didn’t want you to have to go through that. Something even remotely like that. My apologies, I wanted to keep you out of the war best I could. You are so young.”

“I am an adult! A knight!” Anakin’s voice rose into a near screech. So ready, so adamant to prove that he is mature and capable and an adult. Of course, he was capable, but his maturity wasn’t nearly as rounded as he liked to believe, and he often just did not think. He reminded Obi-Wan of Master Jinn this way. It was his way or no way at all. But unlike Master Jinn, at least in the present some of the times, Anakin was also just a bit more inclined to listen to Obi-Wan. Not all the time, of course, because Anakin always thought he was right, but with the right care and nudging and so much patience, Obi-Wan, on occasion, could get through to him on certain subjects.

“Anakin,” he said his name with as much fondness and softness and patience as he could muster. Which, when it came to this boy, was quite a bit. “War is….it is not like any mission you have been on. It is constant and it does not end. There is a goal, but it does not finish there. There is always something else, something so time sensitive. You don’t get to go home after one mission is done, there is always another, linked swinging from one to another. There is so much more violence and death, and it chips off pieces of yourself every moment. It stays with you, long, long after the conflict may be resolved,” he said, and Anakin seemed rather enraptured in what Obi-Wan was saying. He couldn’t understand all of what Obi-Wan was referencing and he wouldn’t understand how this would stay with those who fought in it. Conflict like this, although not to scale, was something Obi-Wan knew, at times, rather intimately. “It is an experience, a pain, a dirt you can never be clean of,” he insisted, swallowing hard. “War is messy, and nothing is so clean cut as people often make it out to be. You keep giving things up; your ability, your mind, your emotions, your morals, your soul, loyalty, trust…. until there is nothing left of you to give. It becomes written in your bones until it is hard to imagine you were anything else. It takes the best things of life, of ourselves, and only gives back the worst and most destructive for us to figure out how to live with.”

#I'm A Boy No I'm A Man #Gotta love them song lyrics #I love Treasure Planet okay? #Anyways #Anakin Skywalker #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Obi Wan Kenobi #clone troopers #au #alternative universe #Qui-Gon Lives #this one isn't super friendly to him #I have others that are #I know #I'm rather strange

[felassan]

Hi, thank you for your wonderful metas and explanations. Not sure if I'm getting this right though: if we get two last Archdemons as Dirthamen and Falon'Din and if they get killed.. wouldn't that make all Evanuris but Solas and Mythal, dead? What happens when the Archdemon dies? And if all the Archdemons are dead, will this end the Age of Dragon? Will there never be any more blights?

Hi Nonnie! Thank you :) Answer under cut due to length.

The first part of the line of speculation here depends on several things like: whether there really is a link between the Evanuris and the Old Gods (and if so, what is it? several different kinds of connection are theorized, including a number which don’t hold that it’s a case of direct one-to-one equivalence), whether Mythal is already truly dead or not (some think yes, some think no), whether it’s those two Evanuris specifically (a number of other candidates for the identities of the figures are speculated and entirely possible) and whether Solas will survive the events of the next game.

That stuff aside, the bulk latter part of your question is an Unknown that’s been set up as Ominous since Inquisition. Here’s Solas in dialogue with Blackwall:

[discussing the Grey Wardens]

Solas: The Wardens see themselves as the world's defense against the Blight do they not? Blackwall: Yes... Why do you sound so skeptical? Doesn't everyone know this? Solas: When an Archdemon rises, they slay it. What will they do when all the Archdemons are slain? Blackwall: Retire? Solas: Without Archdemons, there can be no Blights. Is that the reasoning? Blackwall: Right. Where are you going with this? Solas: Nowhere. I hope they are correct.

and Blackwall and Varric:

Solas: The Grey Wardens allow elves and dwarves into their ranks? Varric: Qunari too I imagine. They don't care about titles or blood, just stopping the Blight. Solas: A pity they do it so badly then. Blackwall: Would you care to repeat that? Solas: Argue if you like, your fight against the darkspawn is noble, but what progress have you made? Varric: Give them some credit, it's not like you can study the Blight safely. I may not like everything they've done, but without the wardens, we'd all be Blighted by now. Solas: They've bought us some time, I will grant them that.

and Cassandra:

[post-Adamant]

Cassandra: You don't think much of the Grey Wardens, Solas. Solas: They are fools, a fact only amplified by Corypheus' meddling. Cassandra: A harsh assessment. But after Adamant, perhaps not undeserved.

and Vivienne:

[post-Adamant]

Vivienne: You disapprove of Corypheus using the magic of the Blight, Solas? Solas: Every intelligent creature should. Vivienne: Yet you raise no objection to the Grey Wardens using blood magic? Solas: Blood magic is no worse than any other, properly used. But the Blight... Solas: The Blight corrupts everything it touches. Those who believe themselves capable of using it safely are mad. Vivienne: I understand that Grey Wardens are connected in some way to the Blight. Solas: Then that explains why we saw no old men at Adamant.

And here’s some of his dialogue during and after Here Lies The Abyss:

Erimond: A Blight happens when darkspawn find an Old God and corrupt it into an Archdemon. If someone fought through the Deep Roads and killed the Old Gods before they could be corrupted... no more Blights, ever. The Wardens sacrifice their lives and save the world.  Solas: [hella angry] That’s madness! For all we know killing the Old Gods could make things even worse!

---

Solas: [super agitated] We must stop the Wardens from carrying out this insane plan Inquisitor! To seek out these Old Gods deliberately... in some bizarre attempt to prevent the Blight... [...] Those fools and duty... responsibility is not expertise. Action is not inherently superior to inaction. Forgive me, the entire idea is - unnerving. Inquisitor: I wouldn’t mind never having another Blight. Corypheus interfering is the real problem. Solas: [pretty irritated] The Blight is the real problem!   Inquisitor: And the Wardens are trying to end the Blight forever.  Solas: Yes! Would it have worked? Do you know? Did they? The fools who first unleashed the Blight upon this world thought they were unlocking ultimate power! 

---

Solas: If you don’t stop them, we’ll all fall.

---

Solas: Even if they could succeed, the entire idea is wrong. The Blight is not something one smugly outsmarts.

It’s clear he dislikes or disagrees with aspects of the Wardens in a general sense, even if they’d never gotten up to what they tried to do in Inquisition (that’s another topic). But he also either seems to know Something that he’s withholding, or else he fears possible consequences/potential unknown consequences of them (or anyone) succeeding in killing the remaining Old Gods. He’s incensed thinking about it. The idea deeply unsettles him, and he fears the Blight and what it can do. And I wonder if the ‘Something’ will be to do with the true nature of and the origin of the Blight. It also may intersect with things like the Fade and the Black City. 

So the question of what will happen with regards to the Blight when all of the Old Gods are gone feels like one we’re meant to be asking and speculating on at the moment, one we’re still meant to be in the dark about til some reveal. It’s often theorized that the Old Gods are ‘keys’ (or rather, more like locked padlocks) to the prison (or ‘prison’) where the Evanuris are caged, or that they’re vessels for pieces of their souls, or that they’re [functionally] like seals or gateways keeping something at bay from the world of Thedas, like, say, in the Black City - “And I looked up and saw // The seven gates of the Black City shatter // And darkness cloaked both realms.” - which as we know is Tainted and also apparently, according to the latest mural, infested by red lyrium too.. These sorts of ideas often make reference to the Dread Wolf Rises teaser mural, where there are 7 hemispheres arranged on the outside of the repeating concentric circles pattern which usually represents the Veil. Only 2 of the hemispheres are still lit, the rest are dark. They’re often thought to represent the 5 dead Old Gods and the 2 who remain alive, sleeping. These sorts of ideas cast the Old Gods’ current situation as a temporary solution, staving off a massive looming problem for a while, essentially. Sometimes the ‘something’ is linked to the Void/the Abyss. (It’s tough to call though as the pattern inside the hemispheres is the same as what’s found on elven foci/power orbs in other murals, which are almost certainly Titan hearts.)

Something to bear in mind also is that no more Blights (as in the plagues of darkspawn attacking the surface world directed by an Archdemon) doesn’t mean no more Taint/Blight or no more darkspawn. Blights are events, not the origin or the cause, and darkspawn have their own means of.. creating more darkspawn.. and darkspawn don’t disappear or combust when an Archdemon is killed, they go back underground to look for a new Old God. What if that compulsion was no more? Consider the Mother, who after being freed from the song/call of the Old Gods went mad. She birthed a new variety of darkspawn and there was a darkspawn civil war. Think of the Architect, who once wanted to spread the Taint to every non-darkspawn person in Thedas, and then accidentally caused the Fifth Blight. The Disciples, along with free will, gained higher intelligence, the ability to strategize and emotional behavior patterns (not just mindless plague-locust or worker-bees-to-a-queen-bee behavior anymore). The Messenger was fairly benevolent and if let go wanders around as a helpful traveler, but he still inadvertently spreads the Taint wherever he goes in that outcome, which cannot be permitted due to the impact on peoples’ health and on ecosystem health. Would darkspawn who are no longer urged by the Call to dig for an Old God stay on the surface wreaking havoc, in a perma-[quasi]Blight with no clear-cut way to end it as there’s no Archdemon to slay? Would we see something like the events of Awakening, only Thedas-wide? If they’d now have awakened intelligence, would they attack with advanced tactics? Or with some of them maddened and without an Archdemon to direct them, would it just be general chaos? I’d worry about Orzammar too; part of the reason why Orzammar has managed to persist thus far is that most of the darkspawn are usually burrowing away looking for the Old Gods, and only randoms and straggling groups end up attacking Orzammar (relatively speaking, at least). Without the Call, it could be overrun. 

Dragons are quite resistant to the Blight, compared to other creatures, able to section off parts of their own flesh to stem the spreading extent of its corruption - to a point. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere that links back to the notion that the setup of the 7 Old Gods, as they were anyway, slumbering, isn’t a solution that can keep Whatever It Is at bay indefinitely.

What’s Solas thinking of when he says “I hope you are correct”? What catastrophic thing happening have the Wardens bought us some time before it occurs? In what ways could things get worse? Why is Solas convinced in TN that he has no choice and that what he’s doing will save this world? Messing with the Blight never ends well, time’s running out, there’s something going on with the Old Gods, and the possibilities for what could happen if all the darkspawn were suddenly freed from their singular purpose of following the song are alarming.  Whatever will happen when the last Old God or Archdemon is killed, it doesn’t sound good though does it?

#dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #dragon age #bioware #mj replies #anonymous #video games #solas #cassandra pentaghast #my lady paladin #tevinter nights #tevinter nights spoilers #tevinter nights spoiler #spoilers #spoiler

[writingsfromstarfleet]

Safe Space - Elim Garak X Reader

A/N: For a lovely Anon, as always please enjoy and I hope it’s what you wanted! You lot too, thank you for reading! X

TW: mentions of self harm/depression etc. so if that makes you uncomfortable, please skip this one! Know also that if you’re going through anything like this that you are loved and you are wonderful x

Life, in your case, had been easy in the eye of others. For years, your family had been a part of Starfleet, and it was practically paved in stone for you to follow in their footsteps. You were academically gifted, and not to mention the few hobbies you had on the side, too. To others, your life was idyllic. A loving family, a good education, a career. Nothing in your life was anything less than perfect.

Except it was.

You struggled with what people couldn't see, and it had affected you greatly. For years, you had dealt with declining mental health issues, despite your best efforts to not let it stop you from achieving what you wanted. In lieu of it all, however, you had secured yourself a place on Deep Space Nine, studying and working alongside some of the most talented minds in  Starfleet.

Over the course of your stay there, you had made friends along the way who you knew would be for life. Your closest friend, however, came in the form of the stations resident Cardassian, Elim Garak. An unlikely bond, you clicked with him after he opened up to you about his own struggles, and you knew in that moment he was going to be your safe place.

And he was. Every time you had an issue, regardless of how big or small, Garak was there for you through it all. Where you would be without him, you didn't know, nor did you want to know. Garak was more than happy to help you with anything and everything, and always reassured you that he would never judge you. Thus, you did. You told him everything, and each time you were met with kindness and understanding, a shoulder to cry on.

Though, things did begin to go bad again. Your mental health had taken a dip, and you had managed to convince yourself that you had no right to be aboard the station, that you were taking up someone else's place. You convinced yourself that there were smarter and better qualified people at the academy waiting for your job. You convinced yourself that your friends weren't really your friends, that they simply put up with you. Through it, you played off to your friends that you were fine, a false smile plastered on your face and laughter that was less than genuine leaving your lips. Every single day, it became almost routine and began to get exhausting.

Often, you thought of Garak. Your brain told you that he didn't really care, just like the others; it told you that you shouldn't bother him with your problems when he could have things he's dealing with himself. Which is why, as you sat in your quarters, you looked down to your healed scars, and you took a turn for the worse.

Garak wondered where you were, usually you would meet him at this time every day for a drink, and his shop felt empty without you sat on the couch bugging him to finish up. He told himself you were caught up with work, as most of the crew had been recently. Carrying on working, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was off. It was only when it reached the hour mark that he decided to shut up shop for the day and venture off to your quarters. You were far more important than any pair of pants.

Hearing the door ring, you decided to remain quiet, not bothering to even check who was there. You were lay on the bed, the cuts on your legs stinging and your eyes sore and red from crying. You were hardly in a state to see anybody anyway. Still, the door persisted. Very quietly, you sighed and, climbing under the covers, you shouted for them to enter. In walked Garak, and in seconds he was by your side.

"Is everything alright, Y/N? I missed you today." he spoke softly, placing a hand on your forehead as if checking you were well.

"M'fine, just tired..." your voice was muffled and quiet, and Garak became concerned. You most certainly were not your usual self. You snuggled yourself into the blanket, and Garak's hand moved to your shoulder.

"Alright. Are you going to tell me what's actually happened, then?" The tone of his voice made clear to you that he didn't believe anything you were saying. It's true what they say; you can't kid a kidder. He looked down when you didn't answer, unsure of what to say next. His eyes wandered to the small stain on the floor just beneath the bed, and he darted his eyes back up to yours, which were currently focused on the side table.

"I'm sorry," you began, sensing there was no point in arguing; he knew exactly what had happened. "I really am, I just-"

"You need not apologise to me," he cut you off, pulling your head up from its place half under the cover to make you look at him. "Nor do you have to explain. I understand. I only wish you had come to me sooner, you're too dear to me to ever have you in such a position where you feel this is the only way out."

You blinked back a few tears, and he cupped your face with one hand, his free hand coming to rest lightly on your leg, which was still under covers. You flinched, and he sighed to himself. He knew from your past conversations that you had harmed previously there, and sensed that was what had occurred this time. You sniffed, and moved aside slightly, a silent invitation for him to join you. Garak wasted no time in rising from his kneeling position to sitting atop your bed next to the covers, which you still had wrapped firmly around you, not wanting him to see the mess. You brought yourself to his side, and his arms found their way around you, one resting at the small of your back and one running through your hair.

A fair few minutes of silence passed, Garak offering as much comfort to you as he could. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, either, it was welcomed, and you stayed there in his arms for what felt like forever before you felt confident enough to speak up.

"I'm sorry, Garak. I know you always say to come to you, and I don't really know why I didn't. I was convinced everyone doesn't want me here, including you, and I guess it just scared me.. it sounds pathetic, doesn't it," you interrupted yourself with a small chuckle; saying it out loud made it sound ridiculous.

"Does that sound as foolish to you as it does to me now you've said it?" Garak's words sunk in, and you admitted to yourself it did indeed sound awfully idiotic. "I understand these feelings, I understand how hard they can be to deal with, Y/N, you know that. And I know that often, you can feel that there's no other way out than to harm yourself. But I do want you to know that, as powerful as those thoughts can be, they are not the answer. Always, they are incorrect. We love you, all of us. There's not a single person I know who says a bad word about you. Never feel alone, Y/N, we're all here for you. This was never the answer. Promise me it will never be the answer you choose again."

"I'll never be able to thank you, you know," you started, voice a little louder this time. "You're wonderful."

"As long as you're alright, that's thanks enough, my dear Y/N."

Lifting your head to look at him, you shifted and smiled to him. His face softened at seeing you smile, glad that he had managed to make you smile, at least.

"You do have a way with words, Garak. Somehow you always have the right thing to say, and it's always what I need. I promise you, this won't happen again."

It was Garak's turn to smile, for he knew that you were telling him the truth. After all, you can't kid a kidder.

#tw: depression #tw: self harm #star trek #star trek imagine #star trek x reader #star trek deep space nine #star trek ds9 #deep space nine #ds9 #elim garak #garak #garak x reader #garak imagine #x reader #imagine

[rainebowkitty]

Happy Birthday Riddle! <3

IT'S FINALLY TIME! I've been hyped about this for awhile ngl, but let's just get right into a small summary of the piece.

Riddle celebrates his first birthday with friends (for plot convenience, I'm also making this when he first tries a tart. Also, I originally had Che'nya insert cat puns whenever he spoke, but ehhhhhhh I don't think they really fit the piece, soooo yeah. They weren't good either, they were just changing 'you' to 'mew' and such, but whatevs).

“Take a bite now, would you?” 

“Che’nya, no need to rush him.”

Riddle stared at the slice of strawberry tart with a hesitance no kid should a dessert on their birthday. It was a gift, after all. He should be just as grateful for this sweet treat as he was the new stack of books his mother gifted him that he had neatly worked into the countless other organized scriptures on his bookshelf earlier that day. 

“Che’nya’s right,” Riddle nodded slowly as he picked up his silverware. “I… suppose I’m nervous is all.”

“It’s not like your mom can sense when you’re misbehaving,” the cat boy continued, causing Riddle to freeze mid-cut. Was he really that easy to read? 

Of course he was. He was just a boy, yet he had developed years of trust in his mother’s words already. The only flicker of doubt he had in her was the contradictory things his friends would say and do, but it was enough to keep him from arrogantly strutting about as if the name ‘Rosehearts’ were that of a prince. 

For now, anyway. 

“If you don’t want to do this, Riddle-”

“No, I-I didn’t say that, I…” the redhead trailed off as he gritted his teeth in a fit of determination. He jammed his fork into the piece of tart with the grace of an awkward goose, causing a not-so-subtle clang of plate and silver before lifting the utensil up and turning it towards his mouth. He opened then closed his lips around the fork as an overwhelming sweetness danced on his tongue. 

To anyone else, the strawberries covering the top of the tart would’ve more than balanced out the sugary cream just beneath them, but this was a new flavor for Riddle. His taste buds didn’t know how to process the dessert in the slightest, yet it was still so good that he quickly brought the knife back down to the plate to cut off another bite-sized portion. He plopped the new piece into his mouth before he’d finished chewing the last one. This frenzy persisted until there were only crumbs remaining.

“See, I told you he’d like it,” Che’nya elbowed Trey with a wry smile coloring his already flashy features. Trey just smiled as if he knew too, but he was too gentle to force Riddle into anything whether he trusted his intuition or not. 

Trey almost regretted his inability to give Riddle much of a proper push upon seeing how drastically the boy would change whenever the trio happened upon something he hadn’t experienced before and enjoyed. There was always this light in his eyes that wasn’t there before. It’d never last long, especially when early in their friendship, Riddle would sniffle and sob as he mumbled strings of apologies to his mother, careful not to exclude how much of a disgrace he was for breaking the rules. 

~

“I-I n-never should’ve d-done th-this,” Riddle wiped a salty tear from his cheek only for three more to take its place in a neat and orderly line. It was incredible how even Riddle’s tears seemed to follow some sort of pre-planned procedure. 

“But you had fun, no?” The curious cat boy tilted his head as he asked. He was never great with this sappy side of Riddle. He knew he was there simply to convince the impressionable redhead to do things he normally wouldn’t with that buzzard of a mother present, but at least Che’nya had enough sense to be serious when these episodes of Riddle’s occurred. 

“I g-guess,” Riddle hiccupped. “B-but wh-what if w-we’re caught? M-mama will h-hate me and I-I’ll d-deserve it.” 

“That’s not true,” Trey put a hand on the blubbering boy’s shoulder, the redhead jolting a little but not having it in him to push Trey’s hand away. “At least you learned something new, right? Croquet was a pastime of one of the Great Seven.”

“R-really?” Riddle’s lip quivered. He’d heard tales of the Great Seven before and the school they represented. Entry requirements were a mystery, but even his accomplished eyes glazed with innocence dreamed of entry to a school with so many dazzling founders.

“The Queen of Hearts,” Trey nodded before wiping Riddle’s tear stained cheek with his sleeve gently. “In fact, games like this were part of the rules she upheld.”

“A-a Queen built entirely on f-fun,” Riddle wiped his other eye slowly as if the concept were impossible to him. “So sh-she wouldn’t get m-mad at me, even if I’m a-awful at the game?” 

“She wouldn’t,” Trey smiled as he picked up the mallet cast aside in Riddle’s short outburst. “So how about we give it another go?” 

“A-alright. If you’re sure.” 

~

“Thank you both,” Riddle looked up to his friends happily, that light so rarely seen in his eyes lingering there, even as underlying guilt rested in the sheets of silver.

On their way back, the sun only seemed to illuminate them more before the group reached the window in which Riddle always climbed from to join Trey and Che’nya on their daily escapades. The metallic gleam of grey irises dulled at the sight of his room. He climbed into it with a wave and a weak smile to his friends, two boys that represented the freedom he could never fully grasp returning Riddle’s gesture before turning around and walking away back to their happy homes, the redhead watching them was sure.

“I had fun,” he whispers to their backs as they disappeared in the streets.

~

Bonus: 

“I certainly hope you did, because it won’t be happening again,” came a stern voice from the corner of the room. Riddle whipped his head around to the sound with a sharp gasp.

“M-mama? Mama, please, I-I can explain!” 

“Oh, I think you’ve explained quite enough. The cream attached to your bottom lip certainly does tell me exactly what you’ve been up to.”

Riddle could only blink before wiping the remnants of the tart away distractedly, the shirt unluckily enough a darker color that made the white icing stand out harshly on his sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could squeak out as he pursed his lips so they wouldn’t quiver and so he wouldn’t cry. But it wasn’t enough for her. It never would be, and neither would he.

~

Bonus bonus: aka some doodles of mine :3

Aaaaaaand that's it. Until next year everyone! (Jk I can't pry myself away from making Riddle content. I already have ideas for general hcs of next year's bday for the lil' tyrant, but that's none of my business 👀)

#twisted wonderland #twst #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #twst fanfic #happy birthday riddle! #<3

[notthatiwilleverwriteit]

Your posts are always interesting, this could sound weird but, what do you think about the sexual orientations in 19 days? I know it is shonen ai but in this kind of comic is usually characters are just in love with someone but no anyone else. But with zhanyi it has being shown at least that Zhan had problems thinking about it, what do you think about tianshan's as well? I am not into Lgbt knowledge, so i'm lost about it

Good afternoon, dear anon-san!

I’m sorry it took me a couple of days to get to your question. Thank you for your patience!

I’ve talked about my takes on the sexual orientations a couple of times by now:

Why didn’t HT want MGS to like him more and more?

Homophobia in 19 Days

Could HT be bisexual?

Could ZZX be quoiromantic?

Was ZZX a heterosexual prior to JY’s confession?

Zhanyi and emotional manipulation?

Was MGS HT’s first kiss?

My Tianshan “timeline”

I suggest you check out those previous answers to get a better sense of where I’m coming from. I’m probably going to repeat some of the things in this answer but not as comprehensively.

Also, before I get further into this, I realize this is a rather controversial topic in the fandom. However, I want people reading this to know that I am most certainly not against discussing how readers interpret the characters from this perspective. I know some people just genuinely don’t care one way or another - which is perfectly fine - but to me, it sometimes feels like “who cares” is used to shut people up. I don’t see why the aspect of sexual orientations can’t be discussed just like any other part of the story. Especially since I feel like it’s one of the major themes of 19 Days. And sexual orientations in fiction can be important peaks of representation and connection to many readers, so I do understand why people might want to talk about them.

In all fairness, though, I also understand why people might be annoyed by this discussion. Other’s interpretations can feel forceful to us, especially if they greatly differ from ours. Or it might irritate us if we feel like people are focusing on trivial things. I get it. I’m sometimes “guilty” of those feelings, too - I’m not trying to make it sound like I’m somehow above that. However, I don’t think the solution should be to make others feel shitty but rather to try and give room for all kinds of points of view.

Anyway. End of my usual rant when it comes to these things. (^_^ ‘‘)

“what do you think about the sexual orientations in 19 days?”

When it comes to sexual orientations in 19 Days, I feel like the most accurate answer I can give is “I don’t know”. I don’t think it’s possible to tell one way or another for sure, and anyone’s interpretation is as good as mine. The things I’ve said in previous answers - and what I will continue to say in this one, too - are merely based on the vibes I’ve personally gotten. I am not trying to make it sound like I have some kind of solid, concrete “evidence”. I want everyone to keep all of that in mind when reading this.

He Tian and Mo Guan Shan

I’m going to be fairly brief with HT because I’ve already talked about him in this sense a few times. In short, I tend to read HT as a budding bisexual. Partly because of the vibes I’ve gotten and partly because of my own bias as a bisexual. It’s a pet interpretation of sorts that I like to toy with.

There aren’t any solid extracts of the comic for me to base this on, either. Merely little details that had caught my eye and made me wonder (ch. 160, 190, 226. 307):

If someone says that none of those panels make HT a bisexual, I would wholeheartedly agree. But to me, as a reader, those little details muddy the waters. Reading magazines with half-naked women in suggestive poses on the cover doesn’t make anyone straight, bi, or anything, but it seems HT doesn’t at least mind that kind of content - perhaps he’s even interested in it since he’s supposedly spent money on them. Of course, it’s too hasty to judge a book by its cover so to speak but I’ve always been interested in that detail.

However, what has made me think HT might be bisexual more than that is the whole “I don’t want you to like me more and more” thing. I have somewhat mixed feelings about the note but regardless of that, HT felt the need to lie to MGS. Again, there could be many reasons for it - but I think one possible reason could be that he was conflicted. Initially, HT didn’t get interested in MGS for romantic reasons, but somewhere along the way his feelings shifted and developed. Was HT confused about his own feelings and that’s why he lied to MGS? Was it his first time discovering such feelings for another guy? Again, it’s impossible to tell for sure but I don’t see why that couldn’t be a possible way to interpret it.

In addition to all of that, we don’t really know enough about HT’s past relationships to tell one way or another. He’s only 15, so I doubt he’s had much experience whether it’s with girls or guys. How being a part of his family has affected him as a person is also something that should be taken into consideration when wondering about HT’s potential romantic past.

I haven’t really talked about how I see MGS’s orientation before. I think that MGS’s character was set out as straight, but it’s always been more like a like “default setting” rather than what he might actually be. I would say he sees himself as a heterosexual but I think that’s more about him just going with what’s considered “normal” without bothering to give it much thought (ch. 222):

That little conversation has always reminded me of the movie 40 Year Old Virgin. Like, if Buzzcut had asked MGS “what kind of boobs do you like?” and MGS had been like “yes” or “as long as she has them”. He doesn’t really seem to have preferences or a type when it comes to girls, and I think one reason for that is because he’s never really been that concerned about the matter. If someone asks, he’s into girls but that kind of conversation is over rather quickly with him.

One reason for MGS’s seeming indifference is probably how he’s been rejected by his peers, ultimately leading him to isolate himself and push others away by becoming even harder to approach. Girls wouldn’t be interested in someone like him, so why should he waste time thinking about them? I might be projecting too much but it seems to be like he’s basically rejecting that part of being a teenager. It’s easier to ignore it until you’ve become indifferent than feeling like you’re missing out on something. 

In addition to that, it seems MGS is easily irritated and disgusted by the idea of another guy making a pass at him and aggressively guards both his body and image in that sense (ch. 160, 170, 249, 250, 285):

I’m sure a lot of that has to do with his history of being involved in gangs and being a delinquent. To survive in that world you need to exhibit rather aggressive and masculine behavior. In other words, to be the top dog. In those circles, being gay is easily associated with being the bottom as in submissive and easily overpowered. So, in addition to MGS not being keen on talking about girls and romance, he’s also had to keep up a certain image.

Do I think HT has discovered MGS’s “true” sexuality? I wouldn’t really put it like that. I would rather say HT’s persistent influence has “unlocked” the world of love and affection for MGS. He can experience that part of life with HT instead of rejecting it. I suppose the million-dollar question is does that make MGS straight or homosexual. And to be honest, I don’t have an answer. Personally, I read him more as a heterosexual than homosexual. I can’t really him being in a relationship with other guys than HT.

Jian Yi and Zhan Zheng Xi

I’ve also talked about these two quite a lot, so I don’t know how much I have left to say. Generally speaking, I think JY is someone who might actually identify as a homosexual in the future. It doesn’t look like he’s ever been interested in girls. More importantly, though, it seems that as he’s fallen in love with ZZX he’s also discovered himself in a broader sense (ch. 143, 158, 164, 187):

I think the theme of coming of age when it comes to sexuality is the strongest in JY’s character. ZZX might be the only guy he has a crush on, but JY seems to be thinking about being in love with a guy also as something that might defy him. He feels confused about being different and scared of how others could react to him being in a relationship with ZZX despite how open he also is about his feelings. He might happily want to hold hands with ZZX or kiss him in public but he’s not always that confident. JY is surprisingly good at hiding behind a happy-go-lucky smile and carry the hurt and insecurity caused by prejudice in his heart. Those deeper feelings occasionally burst out when his guard lowers.

Again, this is just an overall vibe I’ve gotten from JY’s character. But I’ve always felt like he’s processing the whole thing of being in love with someone of the same sex on a deeper level than the others. I feel like his feelings for ZZX are connected to his identity more explicitly and him coming to discover himself sexually in the same way that real-life people would.

Compared to the three other boys, I think ZZX has always been a solid straight to me. I think before JY’s confession he identified as a heterosexual. He just was the kind of teenage boy who found girls and crushes too troublesome and annoying (ch. 51, 52, 102):

I doubt the idea of being in a relationship with another guy had really popped into his mind as an option. JY’s confession and feelings for him as a guy came as a big shock to him. Their first kiss seemed to tumble everything down in ZZX’s head and force him to figure everything - JY, himself, and his relationship with JY - from the beginning (ch. 151, 152, 165):

I believe a lot of it was rebuilt the same way but there were definitely changes and also room for future changes. A lot of the feelings ZZX already had for JY - protectiveness, affection, deep sense of bond - could also be applied to a romantic relationship. I believe they’re also the building blocks that ZZX as a character would want to cherish in his romantic relationship. All ZZX needed to do was to shift his point of view a little when it came to JY and see how he felt about it.

As big of a mental turmoil as I’m sure ZZX went through, I think it’s safe for us to assume what his resolve was. I might be too generous with my interpretation but this moment made Zhanyi canon in my head (ch. 209):

ZZX didn’t exactly return JY’s feelings in the same sense but he accepted them. He might not be ready to give all the things JY wants yet but he made a promise that JY will have a future with him. JY won’t have to feel insecure because ZZX will always be beside him. He just needs more time, and JY has to be patient.

But I suppose that once again the question of ZZX’s current orientation remains. And I don’t have a solid answer this time, either. I still read him mostly as a heterosexual, though. Just like MGS, I can’t really see ZZX in a relationship with another guy besides JY. However, I think that ZZX is also the type of character who puts more emphasis on the bond of the relationship rather than his partner’s gender. But...still, I imagine it would be quite a hump for him to discover that he could have feelings for guys in general, too.

“in this kind of comic is usually characters are just in love with someone but no anyone else”

This is very true and also partly why saying anything one way or another is quite difficult. In the story, the characters are in love with one other person, but you can’t make assumptions or conclusions based on just that. Just because you’re in a same-sex relationship doesn’t mean you’re a homosexual. Whenever I wonder about the orientations in 19 Days, I try to keep this in mind but I also feel like the vagueness allows readers to make multiple interpretations. I get certain vibes that point me in certain directions but I completely understand if others end up with other kinds of readings.

However, this kind of “he’s only gay for him” is also something I’ve seen BL been criticized for. It makes it look like men being attracted to other men isn’t a real thing but rather something that happens under special circumstances. Personally, I don’t have a major problem with that - it is what it is, I suppose - but I can see why that would bother people in BL. Do I wish some characters (for example, JY) would come out as LGBT at some point in the story (if you don’t think he already has)? Sure, I’d be interested in seeing that. And I think it would be a natural development for his character. Do I think that’s going to happen? I’m somehow doubtful, not at least in so many words. But that doesn’t really mean the comic can’t tell a story about discovering oneself, as we’ve already come to see.

Thank you for your question, dear anon-san!

#19 days #tianshan #zhanyi #He Tian #mo guan shan #Jian Yi #Zhan zheng xi #answered ask

[everydaychaotic]

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. "

Charlie x Reader Fic

a/n: i used a writing prompt here because there were some prompts i found on my phone. they're from creative-writing-prompts on tumblr (?) omg enjoy 💕

Word on the street is all about this Charlie Dalton. All the girls in your school can't seem to shut up about him, this guy from Wellton who pulled an infamous stunt in front of everybody.

"Have you heard about what happened at Wellton?"

"God, that Charlie has guts."

"He's single right?"

All this gossip annoyed you. Either they applaud his not-so-daring feat, or they suddenly fancy him. Apparently, this boy has become popular here and you never understood why he would do something so stupid.

You're a real stickler for the rules, future mapped out and planned for, and you always had this thing where everything should be in order. Charles Dalton, that jerk, just disrupted the peace and order you have been accustomed to by turning these girls into boy crazy and lovestruck little girls. His name made your blood boil and it made you lose focus. They never seem to get enough of him, and that's probably because there aren't really a lot of options in boarding school.

Wherever you went, his name would always pop up. Whoever you talked to would ask if you knew. You would roll your eyes and tell them they're wasting time on someone who isn't even worth it. This boy was getting into your nerves, and (rumor has it) another girl's knickers.

There came a time you just couldn't take it anymore. Even your best friend was talking about him with a mix of amusement and disappointment. She thought this boy had potential but wasted it on a foolish prank. Both of you shared the same sentiments, although your friend was obviously intrigued.

You had a lot of homework to do, and with everything that was going on, you decided you didn't have time for this. You sigh loudly and throw a pillow at your friend, exasperated. "Hey!" she said as the pillow hit her face. "What was that for?"

You turned to her, annoyed and stressed from all the homework and drama. Your roommate raises an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. "I'm getting tired of this— this boy!" you tell her and she stifles a laugh.

It wasn't funny, and then she replied, "Who knew that the great y/n would lose focus over a boy?" You ignored her and went back to your homework. There was still so much to do with calculus, and you haven't checked on your science project yet. Your French essay is due tomorrow and it isn't near perfect. You didn't let the idea of Charlie Dalton get to you.

Days went by and the chatter started to lessen. You smiled to yourself, everything was slowly going back to normal. Your focus was back, and nothing else seemed to interrupt it. Right now, everything is perfect for you. Back on the right track to be one of the country's most esteemed lawyers.

Everything was almost back to normal, you hardly even thought about him, and no one

had any more stories to tell about the infamous little pick who caught St. Agnes' by storm. One fateful day, he was once again the talk of the town. Rumour has it, he went out with one of the girls from her class. People kept on talking, asking this girl to tell him about Charlie. All of them would pile around her, and ask if he was what they dreamed he would be like.

You thought it was all rubbish. Charles Dalton? You bet he got under her skirt. Your classmate's story about him being the perfect gentleman was too good to be true. There's no such thing as a gentleman, and you believed Charlie was far from that. People see what they want to see, and you thought this girl just let heard what he wanted her to hear. Quite stupid, you thought.

One day as you were walking around the courtyard, book in hand, you caught sight of him. The infamous Charlie Dalton, in the flesh. You couldn't deny he was handsome. There was an air of arrogance around him, and a hint of brilliance to which you were so. curious about. He was with a different girl, and he gave a smirk you knew all too well that he was up to no good. He dropped her off at the dorms, and you shook your head in disappointment. You saw this coming, but in the back of your mind you always hoped it wasn't true.

He passed by you, and smiled. His brown hair all messed up, with eyes that always twinkled with mischief and chaos. "Hi," he said to you. You gripped your book tighter and ignored him, walking away. Charlie always liked girls who played hard to get. He found the chase to be rewarding. He turned around, "I didn't catch your name."

You muttered something, and continued to walk towards the dorms. There were footsteps following you, and you tried your best to ignore him as he tried to get your attention. "Did you just say your name? I didn't get it the first time." He caught up to you and went ahead. There he was, facing you: Charlie Dalton of Wellton Academy.

You decided to be blunt and said, "I didn't, and no, I'm not telling you." You sighed, "I was asking you to leave me alone." He wasn't taken aback by this comment, after all, it was part of the chase, and Charlie enjoyed every second of it.

"If you say so," he said sarcastically. He is so infuriating, you thought. You looked him in the eyes and you were inwardly fazed by how beautiful he really was up close. You always hid your emotions well, and you certainly didn't want to break that wall in front of this jerk.

"Did I stutter?" you replied coldly. You took a deep breath and once again told him to leave you alone. He chuckled and told you, mocking defeat, "Whatever you say, sweetheart." He waved at you and went on his way. Charlie was amazed, and decided he was gonna try harder than usual. That meant he absolutely had to, because most of the time they just came onto him.

You thought about this encounter for a considerable amount of time, and sometimes wondered if you were to see him again. You were working on your english homework until someone on the phone asked for you. You hate being interrupted, and it annoyed you to drop whatever you've been doing for something so irrelevant. Begrudgingly, you grab the phone and put it to your ear, rolling your eyes. "Hello?"

"Hello to you too, y/n," the sound of his voice made you mad. You tried to keep it together, your friends were watching. You couldn't lose control now, it would guarantee him victory. You whispered, "You're not supposed to call."

"Well sweetheart I did, now y/n, tell me, what are you doing Saturday night?" You ignored the question and said, "How did you get my name you jerk?" You heard people laughing from the other line, who were teasing Charlie. "I asked for a pretty girl and they led me to you," he slurred. For a moment, you felt flattered, but mostly embarrassed. That was officially the worst line you have ever heard.

"Shut up. Now if you don't have anything important to say, I'm hanging up now." You put down the phone and went back to your schoolwork. You can't afford to have any more distractions, especially a Dalton-shaped distraction.

Almost every night, he would call, and like always you would give the phone back, telling everyone you absolutely had no time for this. This boy was persistent. You tried your best not to lose your temper in front of your friends and classmates. That rarely happened. You're y/n, and he isn't your Waterloo.

The day you've been waiting for came. Charlie stopped calling. You thought he got bored and latched himself onto another pretty thing. You were a bit hurt, to know he was exactly what you thought he was but it worked best that way, and you were starting to feel normal again. He wasn't the talk of the town anymore, and that alone gave you the motivation to do everything on your to-do list.

You went out to the courtyard for a stroll and brought your favorite book along. Your eyes widened when you saw him. Messy brown hair with everything undone. There he was again, and he looked like he was waiting. You continued to walk towards your favorite spot in the courtyard, made yourselg comfortable and started to read. "Hey y/n," Charlie said. At that moment, you wanted your soul to leave your body. You closed your book and looked up, "To what do I owe this unwanted encounter?" There was sarcasm dripping in your voice and Charlie raised an eyebrow in amusement. He ignored your comment and asked, "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

You didn't answer. He sat down next to you and looked at what you were reading. "Shakespeare, huh? You've got good taste," he commented. You smiled a little, and felt better that this boy, even for a moment, stopped pestering you. You were a bit glad you at least had something in common, and relieved he wasn't just a prick. He was a brilliant prick who knew his stuff, and you were somehow attracted by this.

You just sat there in silence for the whole afternoon. You were immersed in your book, and all Charlie did was stare at you. The silence was endearing, and you stopped only to find him sleeping. You swore he became more attractive. This boy is beautiful, and when it hit you, you started to think about everything you worked for only to be disrupted by him. You pat his arm gently, trying to wake him up. It was getting late and you had to catch up on your study group tonight.

He blinked a few times and stood up, offering you his hand. You took it and he smiled, looking away. He earned it, you thought. "My friend Neil's performing tomorrow at Henley Hall, and since you love Shakespeare so much, bet you'd try to take a look at it," he said finally.

Shakespeare was your favorite poet, and it's been so long since you've watched a Shakespearean play. It was a hard offer to consider. If you accepted, you would be going with him, and that would make it seem like a date. "I guess you can call it a date," he drawled.

You pondered over it as he walked you back to the dorms. Annoying as he was, he knew how to get a girl's attention, and you were no exception. You didn't answer him, and told him how you were running late instead. You felt his hand on your shoulder, turned you around, and once again there you were: face to face with Charlie Dalton. This time, you couldn't help but feel flustered, and it was evident. He smirked a little bit, and that alone shifted your mood. One moment he was charming, the next one a jerk. You moved away and muttered a curse under your breath. "Come on, I saw that, y/n," he pointed out. "Admit it, you like me."

Once again he was this conceited bastard. You didn't know which was more annoying: his behavior or the fact you were attracted to this boy. You pursed your lips and tried not to lose your temper. Charlie just stood there, waiting.

"Silence means yes, you know," he smiled. You rolled your eyes, and started to lose the cool façade you had going on. "You know what, Dalton? Do whatever you want."

"You're insufferable, and I can't believe I spent an afternoon with you! You're a jerk, and you're too conceited for your own good," you said with so much frustration. "I'm not someone you just plan to fool around with, and I'm sure there's another girl waiting for you to sweep her off her feet. And just so it's clear, I'm not that girl, and I don't want to be that girl." Charlie just stood there, listening.

"You know it's a shame. You've wasted so much time and energy on me, and it's endearing and flattering, and I'll admit you're quite attractive, but you're so goddamn infuriating! And guess what? I could kiss you right now." You ran your hands through your hair, frustration and annoyance rushing through you. His eyes widened as he heard the last thing you said. You realized it was too late, and it's undeniable. Charlie Dalton was so damn attractive and you can't believe it worked on you.

He put his hands in his pockets, and smiled at his feet. You were a blushing mess, and his smile wasn't helping at all. He pulled you in and finally replied, "You're very welcome to do it."

#dead poets society #neil perry #todd anderson #charlie-dalton-imagine #dps #fanfiction #writing #dps fanfiction #dead poets society x reader #charlie dalton #charlie dalton x reader imagine #charlie dalton x reader fanfic #dps x reader imagines #dps x reader #dps boys #steven meeks #gerard pitts #cameron whomst #random #writing prompts #knox overstreet

[bismillah-nooo]

Hi! For the fic requests, I always find fics in which someone stands up for Freddie, and I'm kinda hoping to read always some fic in which the opposite happens: someone is talking shit about the band, or some of the band members, or they are in danger and it is Freddie who saves the day! Sorry if it's a bit vague😅 Thanks for your time, have a nice day!!

Author’s note: Hey! I really loved this request and it even made me emotional It is a bit large but I hope you guys like it! It is my first attempt and I tried my best. 

Warnings: a bit of swearing

By the time of the late  ‘70s, Queen had become amazingly successful across the globe. Their gigs were well known for the extreme energy they were able to share with the crowd, as well as for the outstanding performances they served.

''People are still calling out our names, that's insane!'' said John right after the end of another concert. He still couldn't believe that the band had become one of the worlds biggest names. This seemed so unreal to him.  ''How are you guys, are you okay?'' he asked the others who at that time were getting backstage.

''I am overwhelmed'' Freddie answered, ''even though I'm a bit exhausted''.

He looked at Brian. He was sweeping his forehead with a towel as he was gently leaving his guitar in its case. He really cared very much about his Red Special baby. At the other corner of the room, was Roger, being still extremely energetic. He put his jacket on and fixed quickly his hair with his fingers. He was a handsome young man that every girl would want to have.  

''Would you like to go have a drink somewhere?'' he asked the rest. John raised his shoulders,  he really wouldn't mind going anywhere if it meant that he would be with his friends.  

''I'm in!'' said Freddie immediately.  ''Come on Bri, we're gonna relax after all!'' he tried to persuade Brian who seemed a bit bored.

''I don't know. In fact, I feel like something bad is going to happen if we go out now, '' he mumbled, but he already knew that his argument wasn't strong enough. ''Oh, come on now, nothing will happen, stop having silly worries!'' laughed Roger and teased his hair playfully. ''We'll have fun.''

Eventually,  they all went to a pub. Slightly recognizable among the rest of the customers, they ordered their drinks at the bar without getting disturbed by anyone.

Or almost anyone...

'Oh boy, you look so good, let me take you home tonight''  a girl said out of the blue, pointing out to Roger. She came closer to the band, holding a glass of beer and almost fell down, as she was attempting to walk properly. She was totally drunk. However, she started touching shamelessly Roger's back, trying to get his attention.

'' Uhm... who are you?'' he told her with embarrassment.  He looked at the others awkwardly, without knowing what to do. The only sure thing was that he needed some emergency help from them.

''I always wanted to do things to you, Roger Taylor. Now I've found you and I'm not gonna let you go!" she continued saying gibberish to him.

''That's enough, call her a taxi Freddie! Deacy and I are going to remove her'' said Brian, and Freddie did so.  

''Okay young lady, leave my precious friend alone!'' John told her

''Noo, I don't want to! Roger's mine now!'' she continued screaming as the boys were trying hard to ward her off. Roger finally escaped from her hands and looked at her with a bit of disgust, as Brian and John were still holding her back.

''Well, I don't even know who you are and I'm sorry, but I ain't sleeping with you tonight sweetie, you're extremely drunk!'' he told her, trying to be polite at least.  He couldn't do anything but laugh nervously at the end though, to him this moment was far more than awkward. Thus, he left as quickly as possible and ran to find Freddie.

''So, you handsome guys won't take me home tonight either?'' she murmured and turned to Brian and John. She started rubbing herself on the last one's body with lust, as her feet were trembling.

''Take her Bri, what am I gonna tell to Veronica if anybody sees me like that?!'' said Deaky and almost threw the drunk girl to Brian, who felt completely embarrassed. The girl, being much more shameless than before, as soon as she felt Brian's hands keeping her, began to kiss him wherever she could. The situation was entirely out of hand.

''Fred, what the hell are you doing there? Where's her taxi?'' he yelled. Freddie and Rog came back to them, and even though they were also ashamed and worried, they couldn't help laughing with the whole circumstance.

''It should be here by now! Go out, I will pay. ''' responded Freddie. The other three went outside with the drunk lady still on their hands, who meanwhile, had started crying.

''Please, please, don't let me go, I want to stay with you, sleep with all of you!''

''It's dangerous here sweetheart, you are going home now!'' John replied.

''But...'' she tried to insist as soon as the taxi arrived.

''Get in!'' Brian demanded. ''We're sorry to do that but we can't let you stay in these terms. I hope to see you soon, sober!" he continued.

''I will sue all of you! You are really assholes, you cocky bastards! Shame on you, you can't do me the simple favor!'' she started yelling insanely.  

''Please darling, get in!'' Freddie said more calmly.

''I will contact the press as soon as I get home!'' she carried on with her paranoia. When she finally agreed to get into the taxi, a huge relief sigh throttled out of their lungs.

''I told you that something was about to happen, '' whispered Brian, still in confusion.

''Do you believe she's going to sue us for real?'' asked Roger.

''Nah, she is too drunk to remember to do such a thing'' concluded Deaky. ''Isn't she Fred?''

''Of course. Relax everybody. Let's go back to the hotel.''

Next morning, Freddie woke up first. The phone in his room was ringing persistently. It was Miami and he was totally anxious.

''Freddie, what the hell did you all do last night?'' he asked upset,  as soon as Freddie picked the phone up.

''Last night? We were at the gig, of course, darling! '' he responded still sleepy.

''After the gig I mean. Have you read the press?  

''Not yet, Miami, in fact, you just woke me up.''

''Fred, did Bri, Rog, and John rape a woman last night?'' Jim Beach asked disarmingly.

Rape? Freddie's mind was suddenly blown away. He couldn't remember such a thing. ''Of course not!'' was his first thought. His friends would never behave like that to anybody and he definitely knew that. He certainly knew that this news was fake!

Abruptly, he remembered everything about last night. This girl. She was shouting that she would contact the press. This was surely her job. Freddie felt like he was losing the world under his own feet. His soul brothers were in trouble, his own bandmates were now portrayed as awful creatures who would treat women like shit. He shouldn't let this happen. He had to do something but he didn't know what...

''Are you still there? Is it true? '' asked Beach. Freddie sighed and then he narrated everything, from the beginning. He felt so confused. Brian, John, and Roger didn't deserve to be attacked by some fake news a drunk woman had spread.

''Have you spoken to them yet, Miami?'' he asked.

''No, I wanted to talk to you first. But I'm sure they already know what's going on.''

Miami was right. The rest of the band had received thousands of calls from journalists who would die to select some extra info in order to have an article exclusivity. That incident had turned them inside out. There were already some people out there who were talking shit about the band, and this article made the situation even worse.

As soon as the night came, they all met backstage before another gig. But this time, everything was so different. Roger wasn't in the mood for giggling around, neither John was smiling like before. Brian was anxiously walking in the room, without being able to relax. And Freddie could only look at them with his heart aching.

''Guys...'' he tried to speak to them, but he took the same answer from three different mouths. ''Not now Fred.''

It was time for them to get on stage. A strange feeling was all over them. How could they perform in front of so many people who now considered them as rapists, even though they weren't? Roger started playing the intro of ''We will rock you'', but it was clear that he hadn't the same energy. He wouldn't even look at the crowd, even though people were cheering to them. Brian still seemed so concerned, while Deaky was standing still, without breaking into one of his cute dances. Freddie knew that this wasn't Queen. Not at all.

He held the microphone tight in his hand and surprisingly he decided not to sing. He took a deep breath and glanced again at his bandmates before he started talking.

''Hello everyone..!'' he said energetically, and the crowd started applauding. The other three had no idea of what he wanted to do, so they just stopped touching their instruments and let him continue.

''I know that most of you were ready to sing with me. I ensure you that this will happen, but a bit later, because now I have something really important to tell you, my darlings. '' he carried on, causing everyone's query.  Deaky, Roger and Brian remained silent, and even though they didn't know a thing about what he had in mind, put their trust in Freddie, who was ready to save the day.

''So, I am sure that some of you, beautiful people, have read some strange things about us on the newspaper today, right?''

The crowd responded with a boo. Not for the band - but for the press-. This made the four of them grin. It was more than comforting knowing that people were still supporting them at that time. For sure, their fans were more dedicated than they thought.

''Hey, you wanna know something? I have been known these dudes for such a long time. They are my brothers. Yesterday night we were all together at a pub celebrating our friendship when a drunk lady approached us. She was in a dangerous condition so Brian, Roger, and Deaky had her home by a taxi. These boys might be asses sometimes, but no, darlings, they would never hurt anyone in any way. I will let nobody talk shit again about my family - because they are my family. - You know, they have been there for me uncountable times. The less I can do now, is to stand up for them here, in front of all of you and in front of the bloody press''. Freddie finished his monologue and looked at his friends. They couldn't believe in their eats. They suddenly had felt so relieved, so loved, thanks to Freddie who defended all of them at once. Most importantly, they all felt so thankful.

''I am with you. Everything will be fine''. he added and glimpsed at them.  John, Roger, and Brian wiped some tears of joy as they were now getting closer to Freddie. The band merged in a group hug, as the crowd burst into cheers again.

''I love you guys,'' Freddie whispered during this warm embrace.

''We love you too Fred. Let's do this now!!'' they all answered. They were now ready to let the show go on, as a Queen show deserves to.

hope you enjoyed it! @deakysgurl @dianx365 @crazyweirdocalledfriday @i-padfootblack-things @pinkdreamcollectorsworld @jeejeefromthesee @getdownmakeluv @littlesherlockrainbow

#queen writings #queen fics #my first writing #freddie made me sob #queen imagines

[oumakokichi]

I'm soooo done with people saying Ouma is the Komaeda 2.0 of the game, so whenever you have some free time... could you make a list about similar things that Kirigiri and Ouma share? I recall you saying (among all umineko ref) that Ouma was more of the Kirigiri to Saihara than Koma/Junko.

I can understand your feelings, anon! It’s very frustratingthat there’s still this sort of persistent mindset among people who eitherhaven’t played the game at all or played it without any accurate translationsthat Ouma is supposed to be just “Komaeda 2.0” or “Junko 2.0” when the gameitself lampshades that this is really not the case.

It would be one thing for people to draw their ownconclusions and comparisons, except that the entire point of Chapter 5 is thatthe mastermind themselves intentionallytries to set up Ouma as the “Big Bad Despair Leader,” and the characters allfall for it hook, line, and sinker, and so falling into that same pitfall andassuming that that’s all Ouma is even when the game itself is trying toencourage the players to see otherwise means not looking at all the facts.

Even with Komaeda, who is arguably not an antagonist in sdr2per se but a definite source of conflict and mistrust nonetheless, he and Oumahave many, many differences on a fundamental level, and that’s what many peoplefail to realize when they draw the comparison at “Ouma is Komaeda” and leave itat that. If Junko was supposed to be the epitome of evil and despair andsomeone who does horrible things because she likes it, then Komaeda wasundeniably supposed to be the “twisted idealist,” or someone who willabsolutely 100% sacrifice the needs or wants of the group for the sake of anideal (in this case, “hope”) and whose lack of concern for himself or others isprecisely what makes him so dangerous and so willing to do horrible things.

Compared to those two, Ouma is a realist, rather than anidealist fighting for either hope or despair, and that’s ultimately why hecomes down to such a grey area the whole time, rather than black or white.Regardless of whether people like Ouma as an individual, there’s no denying theimportance of his character to the plot; the fact that he remains alive untilChapter 5 and the fact that his investigation and tools are absolutely vital tosolving things even in Chapter 6 means that trying to deny his importance wouldbe like saying Kirigiri or Nanami were unimportant to dr1 and sdr2respectively.

I definitely still feel like Ouma is meant to mimic Kirigiri’scharacter arc and development the most strongly, with Nanami as a close second(which makes sense, given Nanami was supposed to mimic Kirigiri’s role andsubvert it simultaneously). Given his personality and behavior, most peopleprobably wouldn’t think this is the case at first glance, but there areundeniable parallels between the two of them.

Like Kirigiri, Ouma is someone who spends most of his timegoing off and planning his own machinations. The other characters don’t knowwhere he is when he’s off snooping around, and for the most part they don’tcare; between his mysterious absences and the fact that he acts so seeminglyhostile or aggravating when he is around, it’s more than enough to make themsuspect him. While Kirigiri certainly didn’t feign the same kind of hostilebehavior that Ouma does though, there’s no way to deny that the dr1 characterssuspected her heavily, even to the point where she was the prime (and only)suspect in dr1 Chapter 5’s trial.

She and Ouma both are constantly performing investigationsof their own and trying to figure out the way things work behind the scenes.While most characters in dr1 and ndrv3 both are kept busy trying to figure outeach murder as it arises, Kirigiri and Ouma both tackle not only the individualmurder cases, but the larger picture itself; they’re the main two characters ofany DR games that I can think of who intentionally target the mastermind fromearly on, rather than any individual culprits.

They often succeed in going above and beyond the mastermind’sexpectations, too. While Kirigiri was able to obtain the master key she neededin order to unlock and investigate all the rooms in the school, Ouma utilizedMiu’s talents to the fullest and achieved almost the same result with herExisal remote, electric hammers, and electric bombs. His declaration to therest of the group that “he was the mastermind” and that the “game was over” wasessentially the first open strike he ever took at the real mastermind, andupset their plans greatly. Both Junko and Tsumugi had to cheat like hell inChapter 5 of their respective games in order to get the game rolling again theway that they wanted it to, precisely because Kirigiri and Ouma were throwingsuch a hard wrench into their plans.

Even the ways in which they die are similar. While Kirigiricanonically doesn’t die, it’s true that her planned bad ending involves amechanical press, and that said execution was intended specifically for her, not Naegi, as Junko herself admitslater on. You could even argue that Kirigiri’s planned death in dr3 with thepoison from the NG code violation means that, like Ouma, her potential deathscome down to “poison” or “press.” Ouma dying by means of an almost identicalpress was unmistakably a throwback, but I think the fact that he engineered hisown death caused more people to draw comparisons to Komaeda, rather thanrealizing the similarities it bears with Kirigiri’s execution.

The thing is, yes, it’s probably intentional that bothKomaeda and Ouma engineered their own deaths in Chapter 5 of sdr2 and ndrv3.But it’s also true that Ouma is meant as much more of a subversion of Komaeda’sgoals than as a parallel, and this is pretty apparent to see when looking atthe actual reasons for why they do the things they do. Komaeda planned andcaused his own death for the sake of shaking the group, of exposing Nanami as “thetraitor,” and ultimately for his own self-motivated interest in the ideal of “hope,”regardless of the whims of Hinata or the other survivors or even Monokuma.

But Ouma’s death was not something initially planned for orrequired. Only Tsumugi and Maki’s actions started the killing game back up inthe first place. If everything had gone according to Ouma’s plans, he wouldhave left the game in an eternal, albeit somewhat depressing, stalemate, withno more killing and no more broadcast. He was forced to readjust his plans anddecided to kill himself after thegame was started up by the others against his will, and his decision to die wasundeniably so that others, even Maki, didn’t have to. Even in trying to createa case where Monokuma and the mastermind didn’t know the answer and thereforepotentially shaking the whole basis for the killing game by exposing it asunfair, it’s clear to see from the script he gave Momota that he clearly valued trying to keep the groupalive, and didn’t want an outcome where Monokuma might actually disregard hisown rules and execute the lot of them.

Compare this to Kirigiri, who in Chapter 5 would ultimatelyhave been pushed to the same sort of conclusion if it hadn’t been for the onebond of absolute trust between herself and Naegi. By virtue of being adetective, like Saihara, Kirigiri is someone who has to doubt others in order to do the things she does. She’s not atrusting or naïve person by nature, and this is something she’s fine with,because her strengths lie in doubting people first in order to get to knowthem. She was ultimately saved in Chapter 5 because she could count on Naegi tosee through her lies and understand that she was doing something morallyambiguous and questionable for his own good, and that small spark of trust wasenough to save them both in an otherwise hopeless situation.

For Ouma, who had no such absolute trust with anyone, noteven Saihara, there really wasn’t any choice but for him to have to gowillingly to his own “bad ending” and to try to turn it to his own advantagenonetheless. His greatest flaw was in doubting too much, and in creating a façade so enigmatic that literally no onecould have solved it, because he was pushing them all away so emphatically. Buthe and Momota were nonetheless able to collaborate on death’s door, and theircombined intervention was the first real upset in the killing game as a whole,and led to its inevitable downfall, just as Kirigiri’s interruption of Naegi’sexecution set Junko’s downfall in stone. To say that Ouma is “Junko 2.0” in dr1is missing the point, because like Kirigiri, he is a figure who literally worksagainst the mastermind the entire time. You can’t “be a Junko” if you’reliterally the one fighting “theJunko.”

There are similarities to be noted between Ouma and Nanamitoo, and how they both are ultimately uniting forces in the group bydrastically different means. While Nanami was a central figure to the group, aleader, and a figure of hope who ultimately united everyone around them byallowing them to trust her implicitly and therefore trust each other asfriends, Ouma united the group in ndrv3—by letting himself take the fall forabsolutely everything and making himself hated as a villain and an antagonist. Theirundeniable importance in Chapter 5 of their games, as well as their spritesimilarities and generally childish behavior, means that I would say Ouma is amuch closer parallel to Nanami in sdr2 than to Komaeda.

To finish, there are definitely surface-level similaritiesbetween Ouma and some of the other “antagonistic” or “evil” figures in DR. That’sthe whole point: those similarities are built up, exaggerated, and ultimatelysubverted by the game itself, because ndrv3 specifically wants to give you acertain impression only to smash it to pieces later and cause you to questionand doubt yourself. The game is a mystery, not only in the sense of solvingactual murder mysteries, but in understanding the motivations of absolutelyeveryone and of figuring out the situation in which they’re all stuck.

This was a really fun piece to write, thank you for askinganon! I can only hope that when the English localization comes out and morepeople have played the game for themselves, they’ll be able to notice thesethings too, and the misinterpretation and misinformation might slow down alittle.

#ndrv3 #drv3 #new danganronpa v3 #kokichi ouma #ouma kokichi #ndrv3 spoilers // #my meta #okay to reblog #the closest similarity ouma has to komaeda is the sheer amount of mmd meme videos on niconico and youtube #anyway i'm really happy i could write this #i really wanted to be able to clear up these kinds of misconceptions when i started this blog #anonymous

[briefwhisperscandy-blog]

Compared - Core Criteria For weight loss team names for momsDo you wish faster fat deposits loss? Certainly you carry out.<br/>Despite the number of items appear that promise folks to expedite their capability to drop fat, folks will definitely remain to toss their amount of money at them. Our team yearn for performance and our company're ready to pay out for that.<br/>Whether our experts think of it or otherwise our company are actually all anxious about carrying out traits as properly as possible.<br/>Our team seldom drive within the boundaries from our legal speed restrictions, we purchase meals from drive-through windows, and also rarely make the effort to thoroughly rest our bodies. All given that our team're interested in conserving opportunity or even being much more successful with the opportunity our experts have.<br/>Shedding a notable amount of physical body excess fat may take months to accomplish. Consequently, this goes without saying that anything our experts can perform that will definitely hasten the procedure is a welcome addition to our regular routine. Provided that it doesn't take extremely much opportunity, obviously.<br/>Properly,  <a href="http://www.lerefugedejosya.net/health/the-only-real-solution-for-weight-loss-is-called-eco-slim.html "> here</a>  possess excellent news for you ...<br/>Today I'm visiting give you three manner ins which you can accelerate your weight loss results. And they will not cost you rarely anything in either extra opportunity or amount of money. In fact, the very first procedure I am actually visiting supply you will perhaps conserve you money.<br/>Prompt in the Early morning (Miss Morning meal).<br/>Sporadic going on a fast is actually a method from accelerating body fat reduction and also there are actually a lot of ways to implement intermittent going on a fast to accomplish that end. Among the simplest and most smooth techniques to make use of recurring going on a fast is to skip morning meal.<br/>Missing breakfast certainly not merely eliminates hundreds of fats coming from your daily intake, but it also serves to mitigate your appetite. I realize that sounds weird to claim that skipping a dish will assist to manage your hunger, yet that holds true.<br/>The majority of cereal are actually laden along with carbohydrates: fruit products, cereals, bagels, toast, extract, dairy, natural yogurt and oats, among others.<br/>Once the physical body is fed carbohydrates the upsurge in blood sugar level and succeeding blood insulin reaction that complies with actually causes an action in which the physical body are going to yearn for more carbs. If you've ever consumed a significant morning meal and were actually starving a couple hrs later, you know precisely just what I am actually talking around.<br/>Passing up morning meal will definitely maintain you from the meals yearnings that common cereal will certainly cause and also provide you with a simple technique to remove numerous hundred calories off your everyday intake.<br/>Carry out Cardio in the Early morning.<br/>That is actually clear that cardio physical exercise (like jogging, leaping rope and elliptical trainer workouts) is the very best sort of bodily task for burning excess body system fat. But lots of folks neglect to understand that the timing from their cardio workout sessions could create a planet of difference.<br/>Cardio in the fasted condition is actually suitable. This is actually when the body's blood stream glucose level goes to its own cheapest, compeling the physical body to oxidize its own body fat retail stores to fuel exercising.<br/>The optimum technique to structure your cardio exercises to maximize the fat loss advantage they'll deliver is to do them very first thing in the morning and miss morning meal to proceed not eating for one more three or even four hrs after your cardio exercise is actually ended up.<br/>After a cardio exercise your metabolism are going to be actually managing in higher equipment and keeping your blood glucose level in check through fasting are going to allow you in order to get the total fat-blasting perk of having actually a revved up rate of metabolism for the following few hours.<br/>Even when you do not intend on bypassing morning meal, cardio in the early morning before consuming is the absolute most successful in relations to reducing fat.<br/>However bear in  <a href="http://www.kinderkledingmode.com/fitobalt-is-the-proven-tea-for-weight-loss-and-detoxification.htm "> weight loss tea recipe in urdu</a>  that if you may open skipping morning meal, as well as going on a fast after accomplishing your cardio exercise, the body fat dropping influence will be actually significantly improved.<br/>Supplement with Caffeine.<br/>Besides a premium whey healthy protein grain, I may consider not one other supplement that can match up to the value for your buck you receive coming from high levels of caffeine.<br/>Coffee markets the complimentary flow from fatty acids, which not just allows you to burn fatty tissue faster, but additionally aids to target persistent wallets from undesirable physical body fat tormenting your body.<br/><img src="http://www.itsnaptimesomewhere.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/FavoriteBeautyProducts-INS-e1436416365850.jpg"/><br/>The most effective way to use coffee to increase weight loss is to consume a cup of dark coffee (or coffee sweetened along with stevia) concerning a 50 percent hour just before your cardio exercise. If you have actually never consumed alcohol coffee prior to you must be actually advised that this is undoubtedly an acquired taste.<br/>If you attempt that and also definitely can't stand up the taste from coffee you could replace drinking a cup from coffee along with taking a caffeine pill concerning a hr before your exercise. Coffee pills commonly are available in a dosage of 300mg of coffee per pill.  <a href="http://instituteforquantumliving.com/what-you-need-to-know-about-zona-bellezza/ "> anti aging cream with retinol and vitamin c</a> 'll perhaps intend to start out by having half a supplement, as 300mg from caffeine is actually around equal to practically three cups from coffee.<br/>This could create you pretty uneasy if your body isn't really used to taking in that a lot high levels of caffeine simultaneously.<br/>Faster Weight loss is actually Achievable.<br/>Before I finish up I must iterate that the suggestions I have actually offered in this post for quickening your fat loss attempts will just cost making use of if you're observing a health and nutrition strategy that is actually positioning you in a calorie shortage and also not filled up along with vacant calories that slow down your liver - crap like refined meals as well as refined sweets.<br/>However, when used in conjunction along with a well-balanced nourishment program as well as consistent exercise they will certainly permit you to burn body fat faster and achieve your target body weight, or suitable physique, in much less opportunity.<br/>Eat healthy, work doggedly as well as keep constant. Keep in mind that notable body fat reduction has time. If you utilize the tools I've delivered you above, the opportunity that inevitably takes to transform your physical body will definitely be actually lowered.<br/><br/><br/>Dropping a considerable volume from body fat can have months to complete. Properly, I have excellent updates for you ...<br/>Today I'm  am actually to give offer three 3 that you can may your fat fatty tissue reductionEnd results If you try that as well as definitely can't stand the taste of coffee you may substitute consuming a cup from coffee with having a caffeine pill about a hr before your workout session. Remember that substantial fatty tissue loss has opportunity. If you use the tools I've given you above, the opportunity it eventually has to transform your body will be lessened.<br/><br/>