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#also referring to v as they/them cause it can be anyone's v
popamolly · 2 months
Note
CAN WE PLEEEASE PRETTY PLEASE HAVE PLAYING VIDEO GAMES WITH THE VOX, ALASTOR, AND LUCI (AND ANYONE ELSE YOU WANT) AND SITTING ON THEIR LAP AND WHAT GOES DOWN FROM THERE (IM GOING INSANE)
have a nice day, love your writing, drink lotsa water!!!<3
៸៸ ﹟PLAYER NUMBER TWO!
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characters. Vox, Alastor, Lucifer and Adam
warning. fem!reader, video game references, smut, 18+ minors dni
author’s note. i’m licking the plate clean at this idea because i just love it so much. thank you for the request anon, you’re so sweet and make sure you take care of yourself too, treat yourself to something nice! i added games to their personality so lmk what y’all think, did i match them correctly? also i have to say thank you sooooo much for 200+ followers??? like what??? i gotta come up with something very juicy for y’all. now enjoy sinners.
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ALASTOR
“Ah!” The jumpscare from the scary game had you jolt in Alasto’s lap, making the usually cynical man grin down on your mischievously. You both had wanted to spend some quality time together by playing video games and of course Alastor picked the game, Tormented Souls.
Not only was it scary but it had a jumpscare at every damn left turn. It had gotten so bad to the point that you were sweating like a sinner in church— anticipating it, expecting it, and yet you still would jump. Though your lover Alastor had barely bat an eye to the scary bits as he controlled his character with delicate composure, progressing through the game with expertise.
Alastor wasn’t a saint, he had not only picked this game because it was scary but because he knew you would jump and every time you would squirm in his lap your hips would brush against his cock in the most delicious way. Call it a ploy to get you to grind on him or whatever you wanted to call it but he was too busy reaping the rewards of you in his lap during this gaming session, “Fuck!” You jumped again this time moving in such a way that you felt his hardening dick press against the panties that you wore, teasing you.
“Oh what is this my dear?” Alastor would grin, dropping his controller to grip your hips so he could force you grind on him. One thing led to another and you were moving your hips which such reckless abandon as he clothed cock just rubbed against your clit the right way, making your sopping pussy closer to an orgasm, “What a vixen you are! I barely even touched you and you’re already soaking wet. How entertaining.”
VOX
You were sitting in Vox’s lap, the both of you indulging yourselves in playing video games to take a break from everything at the V tower until you both were freshly rejuvenated for the next day. Though playing Minecraft might not have been a good idea because it caused for more stress than relaxation for some, especially Vox. “Why the fuck are my chickens escaping?” “Did you make a fence?” “It won’t even follow me, the fuck?” “They will follow you if you hold seeds.” “Where the fuck do I get seeds?”
He’d be yelling in your ear but the sound of his voice right on your earlobe and neck made you shiver. Vox noticed this and couldn’t help but smirk, “You enjoying being in my lap, sweetheart?” You turn around in his arms so you could straddle his waist with a suggestive smile. Before you knew it Vox was digging in his fingertips so harshly into your hips as he controlled your movements, impaling you with his cock and enjoying the way your pleading words fell from your soft lips. He bounced you up and down his length not giving a damn if your just came already. “V-Vox! It’s too much! Please…! Ah, fuck!”
Your pussy sucked him in greedily, velvety wall clenching around him as if you didn’t want to let him go. Vox drank in your form like a pure alcoholic. The breathless pants escaping his mouth was barely enough to make coherent sentences as his mind swimmed with bliss. With half lidded eyes, he watched you bounce along his cock, his eyes drifting downwards to watch it stretch you impossibly wide as you sank back down with a loud moan, “Such a naughty girl, enjoying my cock like a little fucking whore. Now tell me while you bounce on my cock,” Vox was in your ear again, groaning loudly but kept his serious tone, “How do I keep my Minecraft chickens?”
LUCIFER
“(Y/N) I finally got Ketchup to complete my duck island, come look! She is soooo adorable!” Lucifer held out his Nintendo switch for you to see the duck villager move onto his island. Your boyfriend— the King of Hell was currently obsessed with having a duck only Animal Crossing island and instead of taking the easy route he had spent weeks in search of Ketchup in the game and thanks to him manifesting it for himself sure enough he found the infamous Ketchup the duck.
You place your own Nintendo switch down to crawl into his lap, full expecting just to be all cute and cuddly but Lucifer had other ideas. How could he focus on creating a duckie empire in his game when your ass rubbed on him in all the right places. The man had been alone for 7 years— surely you knew he lacked physical touch and intimacy for a long time and now? Oh now he was touch starved.
“Her design is to die for! Lucifer now that you finished you could—Lucifer..?” Your eyes widen slightly when you felt Lucifer reposition you two with ease. You were now on all fours with your ass on full display for him, you turned on your cheek to glance back at him with a teasing smile, “What are you doing, Lulu?”
“I think you know my love,” With a snap of his fingers your clothes dissolved into nothing but smoke, leaving you naked and completely at his mercy, “Now don’t be shy, open up for me.” Suddenly your moans were filling the room, bouncing off the walls, leaving you nothing but a drooling mess beneath Lucifer. His grip tightened around your waist, giving you slow and deep thrust that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. The lewd, squelch! sound coming from your pussy echoing throughout the bedroom, sounding like a sinful melody to the Kings ears. He picks up his pace, his balls slapping against your clit repeatedly as he hit that spot within you that made you arch your back more in desperate need for him to hit it again.
ADAM
“(Y/N) babe, I’m going to need you to stop shooting at the walls and actually shoot another player, please and thank you.” Adam was getting a bit annoyed with you during your gaming session of Call of Duty and it didn’t help that you were on his lap, blocking his own view— and getting himself distracted. Why did you have to sit in his lap again? Something about wanting to feel closer to him or whatever cheesy shit you said he wasn’t really paying attention. He was complaining about it but he just wanted to tease you, in reality he loved it, “Pay attention (Y/N), this is a team effort, can’t have you going down first, danger tits.”
Your back was to Adam’s chest and your boyfriend couldn’t help his cock straining against the fabric of his red apple print pajama shorts at the feeling of your warm cunt pressing against himself you didn’t mean it in the way but he took it that way. With a devious grin, he would bring his long slender fingers to rub your clothed sex teasingly, making you nearly jump slightly from the contact, “Adam—!”
“Focus on the game babe, I’m not doing anything.” Adam was such a liar. He had now snaked his fingers past the waistband of your leggings, groaning softly to himself upon making contact with your slick folds. He rubbed your clit making you completely submit to his ministrations with a soft moan, letting your body relax against him as you clutched the controller in your hand. Your toes curled and legs began to slightly close as Adam added a finger, then two, then three. “Spread your legs wider gorgeous, let me play with that pretty pussy.”
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© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost on any other social media.
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farfromstrange · 2 months
Text
Now That We Don't Talk | Frank Castle x F!Reader
BONUS FIC
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See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!
Read Is It Over Now? for better clarity.
Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader (past Matt Murdock x F!Reader)
Summary: You go home with the guy from the bar, and he makes you forget about your ex.
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "attagirl", slight Dom!Frank, song references, unprotected p in v, dirty talk
Word Count: 2.9k
A/n: You wanted a part 2, so you're getting a part 2! Anyway, I don't write Frank often, so I hope it isn't too bad. It's also not as spicy as you probably expected, but I wanted this to fit the vibe of the previous fic (link above). You don't need to have read it to understand this, but it is highly recommended because some references might confuse you. Thank you all for taking part in this event!
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You believed that your life had ended when you lost him. He painted your world in the brightest colors, but by breaking your heart, he took them away. All that was left to see was a boring shade of gray in a sea of sadness. 
Matt told you from the start that being with him wouldn’t be easy. You were willing to try. He needed someone, and you wanted to be that someone to him. You accepted him unconditionally. 
In the end, giving everything wasn’t enough. He chose her over you, and the castle you two had built came crashing down on you while he stood idly by. 
You’re not a bitter person, you have never been, but he made you fall for him; he made you believe that there was hope for the future and that you would grow old together. He stole years of your life in which you were trying to save him from himself. In return, he took the best care of you, but that doesn’t matter much now that he has taken your heart and shattered it like a glass of red wine on a white cloth. 
When you left him, you thought the distance would kill you. You truly believed that this was the end of everything, not just your relationship with the man you thought was the one but yourself as well. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he said the day you found out the ugly truth.
“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. The pain burned brighter than the sun, and it dried your eyes before they could even shed a tear.  
He argued with you that, “It was just a kiss,” but you not once believed him. 
“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”
“No.”
It was at that moment you lost all of your trust in him—in what could have been or should have been the two of you, forever—and it was also the moment that Matt realized he had lost you. 
You believed that he took everything you ever were that day because your life revolved around him, and only him. 
You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, begging you not to leave. 
“Fuck you!” you had never sworn at him until that day.
You still remember the way the necklace with his initial felt when you tore it off your neck and tossed it at his feet. He knew you better than anyone, and you felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That necklace was a symbol of your undying love, or so you thought, anyway. Now you know that he may have known you to some extent, but you didn’t matter enough for him not to climb into bed with his ex-girlfriend.
You couldn’t even look at the necklace. He told you, “This is a piece of my heart,” when he gave it to you on a snowy Christmas Day three years ago. You cherished it the same way you cherished his soul. He was broken, but he was your broken man. He was everything to you. 
Matt Murdock was your moon, your son, and your entire universe. It all seemed far away that you could ever feel about anyone this way again. 
You saw a future with him. Married, a house in the suburbs, and working with Foggy and Karen in their new law office after everything they’ve been through. You were a hopeful person back then.
Karen told you that he went to a party a couple of weeks after you separated. He didn’t look like himself. You wonder if he felt anxious, knowing his only source of comfort was no longer there. You wouldn’t know until you asked him, but you refused to answer his calls.
Part of you felt euphoric, knowing that he was broken too, but you also felt angry because he was the reason you found your heart beyond repair as he stepped on it like a burning cigarette, and in your mind, he had no right to feel this way.
You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock! I wish we’d never met.
“Another one for the lady,” a voice says beside you. 
Your empty glass of tequila disappears and a full one slides in its place. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on. 
“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger. 
“Nah, don’t thank me.” He gets up from his seat and sits down on the empty bar stool next to you. “You look miserable,” he says.
“What if I am?”
“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”
You huff but offer the stranger your hand. You introduce yourself. 
He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”
“Nice to meet you,” you say. 
You thought nothing and no one could pull you out of the dark hole your breakup tossed you into. You believed yourself dead and long beyond the point of redemption. You accepted it. You swallowed in your misery, giving up on finding a new purpose in your life because the one great thing you had was no longer yours. He fell into a grave that he dug for himself, and he dragged your relationship down with him.
Looking into Frank’s eyes now though, you no longer feel like a corpse. And you realize that you are not dead, not at all—you are very much alive. 
The door almost breaks off its hinges when Frank shoves you into his apartment and back against it. The decision to come back to his place was fueled by a lot of alcohol and the way he looked at you. You were desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache that has consumed you every day for months. His eyes told you that he may be able to give you just what you need, no strings attached.
The way he kisses you breathes new life into your mangled soul. He swallows your mouth and your needy moans with his own, and his tongue forces itself down your throat as your teeth clash in a fight for dominance. You’re both tipsy, but he seems to know just what he’s doing.
His calloused fingers burn against your skin. In the back of your mind, Matt is still so present. His hands are the ones you can’t help but compare him to. 
The way he used to kiss you before fucking you into the mattress for hours on end, switching between tasting and fingering you until you were whimpering and begging him for release might have screwed you up forever. He told you one night that he wanted to ruin you for any other man. Back then, you both still believed that you would grow old together.
It is truly ironic how fast things change when you are truly happy and believe that nothing can burst your bubble.
Frank’s large hands brace against the door on either side of your head. His lips disappear from yours. “Who is he?” he asks, his voice rough like gravel.
You meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. Your mind is everywhere but here, and yet it is right with him. Whether it is alcohol or self-loathing, you’re not sure. 
“What?” you whisper.
“You’re trynna forget someone. Who is it?”
He is a lot more perceptive than you thought.
You swallow, blood rushing to your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you didn’t what? Think? You feel utterly pathetic.
Instead of throwing you out though, like you expected he would, he reaches out to caress your cheek. His eyes soften as they gaze at you. “Whoever he is, he obviously didn’t treat you right,” he says. “If you want to go, I’m not stoppin’ you, but if you wanna forget whoever is fuckin’ with your head, I’ll make damn sure you forget his name by the end of tonight.”
There is something excitingly terrifying about the look in his eyes. A shiver runs down your spine, and your thighs clench at the thought of feeling his hands somewhere other than your face. Somewhere other than your hips and thighs. His kisses knocked the air out of your lungs. You want more, you need more, but you don’t know if you can take it. Not him—even though you’re also not quite sure if you can take him—but also the offer he is presenting to you. As lucrative as it sounds, fuck, you are not over Matt. And you’re not sure if you can ever forget him.
You want to though. You have to. And you want to be thoroughly fucked into the next day and forget the name of the man that makes you so fucking angry.  
“Talk to me,” Frank coaxes your head toward him. “Do you wanna forget the useless bastard that made you feel this way?”
“Yes,” you manage a breathless whisper.
“Did he hurt you? Break your heart?”
You nod.
“You deserve better.” His grip tightens, and his hand slowly slides to your neck. “I’m not, but I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget his name and scream mine loud enough for this fuckin’ city to know who’s making you feel good. ‘s that what you want, hm?”
He’s dangerous, but that has never turned you off, even when it should have.
And when you finally open your mouth and tell him, “Yes, please. Make me forget,” the switch inside of him flicks completely.
He takes his time to worship between your thighs. His tongue buried in your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit without mercy. He eats you out roughly but sensually, keeping you spread wide open for him with both of his hands and a force unmatched—like a five-course meal, and he has all the time in the world for you. 
You’re lost in the throes of pleasure. You want to buck your hips against his mouth because no matter what he does, you’re on fire and you just can’t get enough, but he is so powerful that you can’t fight him. He has you at his mercy, your body in his hands, and all the control in the world over you. 
You pull at his hair, moaning helplessly as he feasts on your pussy. You’re going mad, you’re sure. He’s doing this on purpose, driving you to the edge before stopping the wave. Frank waits until your orgasm is just far enough for you to last a little longer, kissing the inside of your thighs, and then he dives right back into your wet folds. He thrusts his tongue into your hole, licks up to your clit, and then sucks on the swollen bundle until your legs are shaking in his hands. 
“Jesus, Frank!” you moan out. A trail of sweat runs from your temple down to your breasts. 
Your hands search for something to hold onto, tangling in the sheets and the pillow behind your head before pulling at the fabric. You tried pulling at his hair, but he wouldn’t let you. 
“That’s right,” he growls. “Come for me.”
Your back arches off the mattress. His name leaves your lips in a desperate shout as your orgasm crashes into you. 
“Attagirl.”
Your brain is hulled into an endless fog, but Frank doesn’t stop. 
Soon, you’re on your stomach, gripping the headboard as he pounds into you from behind. He is long and thick, and with every thrust, he forces your face deeper into the pillows. Your eyes have rolled back into your head. He hits that spongy spot inside of you whenever he pleases, and the gurgled moans from the pit of your throat spur him on to speed up, change the angle and thrust even deeper. 
He pulls out all the way, thrusting back into you with full force until he is completely sheathed in your pussy. Your heat consumes him, and he sees red. But so do you. He has reduced you to a few incoherent thoughts, babbling his name in the wake of the drool that is dripping from the corner of your mouth. 
And when you come this time, it is pulled back straight against his chest with his fingers rubbing circles over your already abused clit. You come with a scream of his name, and nothing else matters but his cum in your cunt and the unbelievable depth of the feelings he is eliciting within you. 
You drop to the mattress like a wet towel, covered in his and your cum, and your sweat that has mingled with his. His smell lingers in the sheets as you bury your nose in it. He collapses on top of you. The crushing weight of him offers a sense of comfort that almost makes you cry. And he holds you as though you mean more to him than a One-Night stand he picked up to help forget a man who broke her heart. 
“What’d he do?” Frank asks into the silence later that night.
You are lying on his bed, covered by only his thin sheets. He’s sitting on the other side, nursing a glass of Bourbon. He held you, he cleaned you up, and he offered you some clothes, which you denied. He is kinder to you than you thought he would be, and it warms your heart in a way you can only deem utterly dangerous with how vulnerable you are. Broken people make dumb decisions, and you do not ever want to go through the same pain again. 
At least you know that you are still desired. That you’re not dead. Perhaps, there is still hope for a better future. You made Matt Murdock your life for the longest time, and maybe, as you realize now, that was a mistake. There is more to life than him, and you can live without him. That it took fucking a stranger after weeks of being miserable baffles you, but some things are just meant to happen. Maybe it was destiny, after all. 
You look at him when Frank repeats his question. “What’d the bastard do, hm?” he asks.
Where do you even start? 
When you last checked in on him through your mutual friends—you know it wasn’t the best choice, but you couldn’t help it—they told you that grew his beard, and he last had a haircut when you were still together. It suits him, apparently, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at a picture of him.
Foggy told you that he isn’t taking home girls when they go to a bar, even though he could have all of them. He’s sad. He drowns himself at work and beats his fist bloody every night. The old you would have jumped up to help him. And it is true that you will probably always love him, in a way, but you refuse to crawl back to him.
The more you gave, the more he took, and at the first chance at getting a woman he claimed to no longer love when she came back into your lives, he took her. He couldn’t have wanted you as badly as he claimed if that was enough for him to flush years of loving each other and going through hell together down the drain, knowing it would break your heart into a million pieces. That is probably the worst part about all of it.
You take a deep breath. Frank is still staring at you intently, waiting for an answer. “He fucked his ex,” you finally confess. “Four years of being together and it still wasn’t enough.”
His grip tightens around his glass. “Want me to pay him a visit?”
You chuckle, but you know that he would. “No. But thank you.”
Matt was fading long before you left. Even if you did choose to forgive him, you couldn’t be his friend, so things are better the way they are now. You paid the ultimate price for sacrificing your heart to a man who had too many struggles to deal with himself.
In the silence, you find a little light. “At least I don’t have to pretend to like Jazz anymore,” you say. 
Frank takes another sip, asking, “Jazz?”
“Yeah, Jazz. He loves it. He…He’s special. Well, he was to me, anyway.”
“Special? Fuck, the guy did a number on you, huh?”
You scoff. “You have no idea.”
The only way back to your dignity is to learn how to be without him. You have to turn yourself back into a mystery and learn how to trust someone again before your fragile heart breaks again.
“You still talk?” Frank asks.
You shake your head. “No. It’s over now,” you say. “We don’t talk anymore.”
“Told ya. You deserve better.”
“Nah.” You reach for his glass, taking a sip of the bitter liquor that you used to despise. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stretch his leg toward him. 
You need to keep forgetting Matt’s name, no matter what it takes or the reminiscing will surely kill you.
“Right now,” you murmur with an irresistible smirk that makes him leap at you as soon as the words pass your lips, “I just need to forget he ever existed by screaming someone else’s name.” 
Frank captures your lips in a bruising kiss, leaving you speechless and breathless all the same. 
Matt chased you, he caught you, and then he lost you. And now that Frank has you, you never want to look back. 
Now that you don't talk.
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I don't have a tag list for Frank, so I'm just leaving this here.
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thesupreme316 · 3 months
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I have had this stuck with me for a time now, wording this sucked.
So most/all AEW and WWE stars have taunts, iconic finishers, and submissions so I was thinking what if the reader used one of them ( Kenny’s V-trigger, HOOK’s redrum. Things like these) and their reaction to the move/taunt.
You can pick anyone and the number of people
AEW STARS REACT TO: You Doing Their Signature Move/Taunt
Pairings: Samoa Joe x Reader, Kenny Omega x Reader, Hook x Reader, Daniel Garcia x Reader, Dante Martin x Reader
Word Count: 728
Supreme Speaks: hey yall, sorry ive been MIA. School started and I've been student teaching, but also I'm starting to kind of lose motivation for this. but imma keep pushing through because damn it yall deserve it. but my inbox and messages are always open. please remember that you are loved, appreciated, and cherished.
Warnings: none i think. barely proofread this tbh
Taglist: @hookerforhook @hooks-martin @sheinthatfandom @triscillal @wwenhlimagines @kat04ie @batzy-watzy @cassie0sstuff
Backstory:
You are a very private person
You rarely discuss or even reference your friendships (or relationships)
But today?
You were feeling cocky and wanted to put it out on display
So during your match, while you looked at the crowd
And without another second going by….
You did the number one thing that your best friend (or significant other) was famous for
Something that was instantly recognizable 
Making the crowd go wild
And the person you’re referencing grin from ear to ear
Kenny Omega
Get better king
Proud is an understatement
MOTHAFUCKA IS PRIDEFUL
Especially with how he’s out of action rn
He’s happy that that someone is keeping his memory present in the wrestling world
As soon as you hit the V-Trigger
A smile is on his face and his jumping up and down in his seat
Will not have any critiques for you
I think you would be the only person he gives blessing to full on adopt it
Especially after he see how’s the audience reacts to you doing it
Puts up instagram and twitter posts stating how proud and amazed he is of you
Will not hesitant to put those marks and trolls in their place
Hook
The smirk on his face would widened at what he was watching
He was so proud of you doing his submission the Redrum
Wouldn’t run wild or anything but anyone can see that he is so happy that you used his move
He would tease you as you come backstage
“Personally, you could have squeezed harder”
Will post about it with no captions
I find him wanting to do a tag match where both of you can do it at the same time
Get ready for Hook to do your move and or taunt in the next singles match he’s in
Just as a little nod or hint of acknowledgement
But be careful cause he’s competitive and wants to see who can do it better
Dante Martin
REMEMBER THAT SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT HE USED TO DO ALL THE TIME
Yeah you do it
People were even amazed that you can move like that
Cause you don’t like flying
When he sees it, he immediately geeks out
“DID YOU SEE IT? HUH? THEY’RE AMAZING!”
I think he would spam on his instagram stories with videos of you doing and people’s reactions
The same night he would do your finisher to end the match
Would def tease you about it as if he was not running around screaming OMG
“Tbh, I had more height to my moonsault”
Daniel Garcia
THE DANCE
OMG THE DANCE
He is grinning ear to ear as he hears the crowd grow in cheers and excitement
Cause tbh you saw it as an idiotic move
But it makes him happy to know that he has your blessing
Would make you film a Tik Tok or reel with him while doing it
Tbh I can see him with a t-shirt of you doing it
Will now brag to his friends and ask you to “do the thing” like a proud person
Tbh will get jealous when fans say that you do it better than him
Then he forbids you from doing it
“I can’t have the student surpassing the teacher”
Samoa Joe
Once he sees you do the Muscle Buster once, he smirks but he acts like’s not proud
“Well, that was great for an amateur…”
Gives you tips about how to make it more impactful
Makes you join forces with him (almost think Athena and Billie Starks)
“Now you are ready to be a cold blooded killer…*looks at you skipping down the hall*…after some more sessions”
After you master the Muscle Buster, he makes you practice the Coquina Clutch
Once you master both, he’ll say that you are now ready for the dark side
Hates how you seem to do his finishers more seamlessly
OOOO
DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU DO THE WALK AWAY SPOT
THAT IS STRICTLY OFF LIMITS
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bumblesimagines · 5 months
Note
i always thought there was more to you. turns out i was wrong.
Jordan Li
i always thought there was more to you. turns out i was wrong.
pronouns: they/them, gender neutral
begging the gen v fandom to remember they can call refer to Jordan as Marie's partner, significant other, or lover and to remember femJordan exists and deserved to be thirsted over too
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There was nothing more eye-opening than watching Andre and Jordan's memories play right in front of you. Your twin brother's self-proclaimed best friend had been sleeping with his girlfriend from the very beginning with no plans of stopping, even if it meant sneaking around behind Luke's back and betraying him just about weekly. It'd taken every fiber in your being and Marie's soothing voice to keep you from turning the man into an ice cube. 
But then, your beloved partner's memory began playing out and you were stunned into silence. They kept quiet and helped sedate your brother, the person they also claimed to love and respect. Another self-proclaimed best friend... betraying your brother as if it were as easy as breathing. The memory version of Jordan stared at you guilty and Andre and Marie could only watch with widened eyes and horrified frowns. Tears ran down Jordan's cheeks and their body lightly trembled with choked sobs and sniffles. They kept their head bowed and refused to meet anyone's eyes, the guilt and shame rolling off them in waves.
"You.. let him get taken away.. and said nothing." You finally breathed, your own voice trembling with a mixture of anger, betrayal, and dejection. Andre's disgusting behavior had been one thing and while you'd never forgive him, you'd never been close to him to begin with. But for your own partner of two years to keep the fact they'd played a minor part in your brother's downfall hidden? 
"I trusted Brink," Jordan whispered shakily. 
"He was my brother, Jordan. He was my best friend! He was the only person I could trust with anything in this fucking world, and you let them take him away! He trusted you. He fucking loved you and you repaid him by turning your back on him for- for what? To heal your fucking daddy issues? Newsflash, asshole, Brink was using you the whole damn time." You snapped at them and a chill ran down your spine. Your fingertips tingled and the windows in the office began to slowly freeze over. "I always thought there was more to you. Turns out I was wrong. You're just another coked-up piece of shit who only cares about their own ass."
"(Y/N), please, that's enough," Marie called out gently, her hand brushing against your forearm but she jerked back the moment she touched your skin and held her fingers close to her chest. Jordan's body only wrecked further with sobs and they crumpled to the floor, cradling their head between their arms. You stared at them, at the only other person you ever allowed yourself to open up to apart from your brothers, and scoffed. 
"None of you deserved him. You all used him... for popularity, for control. Cate wiped our memories. Andre fucked her 'cause Cate's the only one dumb enough to sleep with an Anderson. You kept quiet on this bullshit and you, Marie..." You dug your teeth into your bottom lip until the skin broke and tilted your head to look at her. Her eyes widened, not with shock but with genuine fear.  "You profited off his fucking death... maybe I'll profit off yours."
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crookedteethed · 3 months
Text
DEPRIVED barbarism (2)
Pairing: University!Coriolanus Snow x Mysterious!reader
Summary: Taking two incompatible oaths showed weakness, but that didn't add anything to the immorality of Coriolanus Snow. 
WARNING: 18+ SlightyDark! Coriolanus, SlightMean!Coriolanus Dacryphilia, Smut (p in v) (Raw fucking), Mind-fucking kink, reader is referred to as an "abomination", Fem reader, mentions of violence, (Kinda) enemies to lovers trope, Ocs, bullying, voyeurism, Coriolanus pushes reader, long asf
Authors note: Part two finally posted 😌. First time posting smut 🫣 Hope you all enjoy!! <3 ily babes 💗
Part One
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Coriolanus wasn't too fond of love. He hated it.
As much as love can make you feel like you're on top of the world, it can also cause you to feel like you're losing control over something bigger than you. The prosperities of falling in love were so vexing to Coriolanus.
Fennel Clearwillow claimed he loved his girlfriend, Hydra Farforge. Fennal and Hydra engulf one another in a sickening kiss, and Coriolanus almost gags.
Coriolanus didn't need to be in love with you to feel so annoyed. He hated your ability to make him go speechless—to make his brain completely disregard Dr. Gaul's assignment and just think about you. He most certainly hated that he didn't know where you came from.
Were you one of Dr. Gaul's mutations? It was a silly thought, but it wasn't utterly impossible. You could've been something constructed in a lab with the single purpose of throwing Coriolanus off. Or had you been a district turned Capital? It's been done before with the Plinths; it could've happened again with the Y/LN's. (That idea made him hate you even more).
Whoever you were, you didn't belong here; more importantly, you didn't deserve to be Dr. Gaul's subject.
It was a foreign feeling to Coriolanus, it was almost like he was in love with you, but surely he could'n't have been, you'd just met.
It was Sunday afternoon, and Coriolanus sat in the common room talking to Fennal and Hydra.
Fennal and Hydra both been majoring in art history, which, to Coriolanus, had been a useless major and couldn't help their futures.
Saturday night, Coriolanus finished his half of the essay. Once he'd left you in the archives, his brain was finally restored, and he got straight to work at his mahogany desk in his dorm room.
The poor boy finished his essay at midnight, got 5 hours of sleep, and had been up since sunrise. Coriolanus was on his third coffee of the day. Sleep ranged around his eyes, and he couldn't wait for the sun to go to sleep so he could go to sleep.
Nonetheless, Coriolanus was proud of his essay and couldn't wait to see you and Dr. Gaul so he could throw it in both your faces.
"Hey, look." Fennal snaps his finger. "It's Coryo's ghost friend." He laughs.
There you were, again, standing by the common room door, looking more timid than ever. Like it had been the first day of grade school, you walked around shyly, hoping someone would offer you a spot on the monkey bars.
Coriolanus rolls his eyes and tsk. "We're not friends." He spats.
“Oh, please Coriolanus. The way you two are always underneath Dr. Gaul, there must be some connection between you both." Fennal says.
You and Coriolanus haven't been seen together with Dr. Gaul yet, but I'm sure anyone can piece together your similarities in this predicament.
Hydra cocks her head. "That dress." She says. "I've seen it before. Perhaps, on a district during the reaping ceremonies?"
Your dress had been acceptable to Coriolanus. To him, your natural knit, quilted cotton dress had made you look even more like Tigris porcelain dolls.
Despite this, Coriolanus still joins in on the laughter.
As you walked, you felt the three sets of eyes burning on your flesh; you had a sinking suspicion the laughter coming from them was about you.
Their lingering looks made your walking go stiff.
“Hey, living dead girl!” You hear Fennal shout out. You turn to the three of them, confusion on your face. Both the boy and the girl sitting beside each other, you’d seen them around campus. Never spoken to them; you haven’t talked to anyone, really.
Then there he was.
The other two had simply looked at you out of pure excitement; Coriolanus, on the other hand, looked at you like he wanted to fight or fuck you… you couldn’t tell.
Fennal motions for you to come and join them, and with curiosity, you comply with his command.
You sit beside Coriolanus—a slight look of discomfort changes his appearance.
“Coriolanus.” You greet him first since he is the only one you know.
“Y/N.” He says, disdain in his voice, palming his face.  
"I'm Fennal, and this is my girlfriend, Hydra." 
You smile and wave politely, still confused on why they invited you over here, semi-confused on why Fennal called you "Living dead girl."
"I couldn't help but notice your dress." Hydra says. "My, how beautiful it is. Where'd you get it from?" Coriolanus saw right past the falsity of Hydra's words; too bad you were too stupid to, he thought. 
"Thanks, I made it myself." You say.
"How original. Sewing major?" Hydra asks. 
"Advance military strategy." You correct. You and Coriolanus had been studying the same Major. 
"And what materials did you make your dress out of? A districts bathing towel?" Coriolanus asked. It was a low blow, so low it made Fennal and Hydra laugh loudly in the quiet common room. 
Now you knew why they were laughing at you before. He saw your face flinch in a pensive sadness; Coriolanus didn't care. He considered his comment payback for you, saying he couldn't read. 
Still laughing, Hydra puts her hand on your knee. "Don't get yourself in a fret, he's just joking. Isn't that right, Coryo?" 
Coriolanus hated the nickname coming from Hydra's mouth, but for the sake of it, he let it slide. 
"I was?" he says. No one hears that this is a question. 
You were tongue-tied. Similar to the way you had (unknowingly) tongue-tied Coriolanus. 
Say something, you tell yourself. Say a comeback, Say something about his clothing. 
You scanned over Coriolanus for the second time today (The first time was when you first stepped foot into the common room). Again, you found nothing unusual about Coriolanus Snow's appearance. The boy cleaned up very nicely. 
All you could bring yourself to do was push Hydra's clammy hand off your knee. You decided to ignore Coriolanus. 
“So, where are you from, Y/N?” Fennal asks.
“Right here in the Capital, of course.” You say.
Coriolanus makes a noise. You would’ve mistaken his little ‘tsk’ for a sneeze if you weren't sitting close to him.
“What was that for?” You say.
“What was what?”
“Coriolanus, don't play dumb; you tsked; why did you tsk?”
Coriolanus lets out a boyish smile. “Nothing…it’s just that--” he says lowly. He straightens his posture, and that boyish smile fades.
He looks at you as if he wants to fight you. “That’s what you’re telling people, Y/N?”
Hydra's eyebrow raises, and you clear your throat; Fennal still cackles from the bath towel joke.
Indeed, he doesn’t know. You thought.
“And what might I not be telling people?” You say. 
Coriolanus noticed your hand picking at a string of your handmade dress. To him, this action of nervousness egged him on.
Coriolanus purposedly chose not to respond too quickly; he liked the edginess in your face. He ravished in the control he had over your emotions at this moment: from curious to tongue-tied to on edge. 
“That you’re an abomination.” Coriolanus said. You jutted your chin.“You aren’t supposed to be here.” He continues. 
“Oh, Coriolanus do tell.” Hydra instigates. 
From being on edge to a slight pouty look on your lips, tears were bound to roll down your cheek at any moment. This is what turned Coriolanus on. He was initially neglecting the thought, purposedly mixing up love and hatred as the same thing. 
He couldn’t neglect the thought anymore when he felt the confinement of his slacks becoming more confining. He crosses one leg over the other to hide it. 
“Y/N’s is one of Dr. Gaul’s mutations.” Coriolanus says, with a slight poshness in his tone. “One of the lab assistants told me.”
Fennel, who’d just stopped laughing from the previous joke, starts laughing again. This time, louder, more tauntingly. 
Coriolanus watches you intently, waiting for that one tear to fall. 
“The capital just lets in anyone these days.” Hydra says in disgust. “An abomination.” She hums. “The abominable Y/N.” Hydra laughs. 
It hadn’t been funny to Coriolanus, but he laughed louder than Fennal, just for the sake of that one tear. 
Coriolanus hadn’t been right in the slightest way, so? Why were you letting his words control you? 
You leave, not saying a word to the three of them. A plucked string of your homemade dress sits on the edge of where you sat. Coriolanus picks it up and plays with it in his hand. 
“My goodness, Coryo, who knew you could be quite a jokester,” Fennal says, trying to catch his breath. “A jokester, yet callous.” 
Coriolanus stuck daggers to you as you left. “It was a joke.” He said. “Just a little joke.” 
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Coriolanus wanted you to leave, forfeit your position as Dr. Gaul's subject. What wasn't a better time than now to tell you this after he just made you cry in the common room? 
After you left, he followed you to the 3rd floor of the girl's dormitory. The last room down the dark and narrow hallway is where your room resided. 
Coriolanus begins to pound on the door, but he stops when he notices your door is cracked an inch open. Involuntarily, he peeks through the crack. 
He saw nothing but your single bed and textbooks in stacks on the floor. Coriolanus hadn't realized what he was doing could label him as "Panem's biggest creep" until you came into view. 
You started shedding off your homemade dress as if it were snakeskin. 
Give her some privacy, he told himself. 
But wait, what was that? You throw your homemade dress in the waste bin. But why? You were so pretty in it. Coriolanus felt partially at fault. 
When he saw your flesh-tone-colored undergarments, this is when the thought of being "Panem's biggest creep" didn't sound as bad to Coriolanus, only if he could still become President (possibly with you on his side).
You'd notice the door hadn't been fully closed, and when you go to close it, there's a forceful grip held to the doorknob. 
Coriolanus Snow was standing right before you, with a grip so tight on the handle. He hovered over you, barbarous by depravity. Deprived of what? Love, lost, taking his anger out on someone. 
Dark clouds surrounded his eyes, his blond curls fell on his face, and his breathing was quick, shallow. 
You do the best of your abilities to cover your body by wrapping your arms around your frame. Coriolanus takes notice of the hem of your panties peeking under your elbow. 
“You got some nerve, Coriolanus Snow. One minute you’re making a laughing joke out of me and then you’re spying on me like a perv. You’ve really done it this time. I’m going to tell Dr. Gaul—No—I’m going to tell the whole school--”
As you rambled on, Coriolanus thought how small your porcelain doll-like frame was compared to his skinny yet lean one. He felt he could devour you whole if he wanted to.
“Shut up.” He tells you in a low murmur. 
You keep going. “No. I’m going to tell the whole school what a pervert you are, and then I’m going to tell the whole school how illiterate you are, and right after I become Dr. Gaul only subject, I’m going to have you sent to the districts. Then you can creep on the woman down ther—”
“Shut up!” he screams, pushing you down to the shag carpet. 
Coriolanus hovers over you, looking down on you (how he likes it). The little light that peeks through your curtains casts a shadow on his face.
God, he hated you.
You must’ve hit something when he pushed you down because you rubbed the back of your head with a pathetic look on your porcelain face. 
As much as Coriolanus loved having you below him, he stooped down to your level, a slight smile forming on his lips from your subtle whimpers.
Fear heaves in your chest. You think he will do something when he raises his hand high enough to be a slap. You flinch when he drawls his hand closer to your face.
You flinch again and close your eyes tight, waiting for a loud CRACK to come.
But it never comes.
You slowly open your eyes and hear low laughing coming from Coriolanus.
You avoid his eyes; too much hatred filled in them. You pay attention to the subtle rise and fall of his chest. It’s in that moment when Coriolanus brings your face to him by putting his thump to your chin.
His cold touch to your soft skin makes your body shudder.
Coriolanus kisses you.
One peck of a kiss. It was experimental on the Coriolanus part. He wanted to see how your lips would feel.
When the two of you split, you’re the one to go back for seconds
This kiss lasted longer than the first; a string of saliva connected you both by the lips as you departed, only to go to the third.
You feel his hand starting to snake its way from your thigh and to your core.
When you feel his hand cup your pussy, you let out a prolonged moan, resulting in Coriolanus biting down on your lower lip. You do the same as him, twice as hard, hoping you'll draw a little blood.
Coriolanus lets out a low mewl as he moves his fingers to the hem of your panties—the warmth of your cunt still lingers on the palm of his hand.
You help him pull your panties down in one quick motion; your mouths still swap spit while you start grinding on his bulge. You both moan at the friction of your bare wet cunt rubbing on him, leaving a small damp snail trail on the crotch of his slacks.
"Coriolanus, we should stop." You mutter between kisses. You had no intentions of stopping, and neither did he. Coriolanus tells you to shut up.
Amid grunting "Fuck” you start pulling down Coriolanus' pants along with his boxers. You start whimpering as you feel his wet pink tip nudging at your damp entrance.
Coriolanus thought about fingering you to prep you for his length, but he wanted you to hurt as well. So, without any warning, he pushes himself into your femininity in one complex, relentless thrust.
“Shit.” You gasp at the sharp feeling piercing your core. You feel his girthy length protruding into your cervix.
To Coriolanus, the feeling was like sliding into a glove-like tub, with soft gel walls contracting around his length.
His relentless pace starts to slow down as he hides in the crook of your neck, relishing in the pleasure that comes from being stuffed inside of you. Tiny whimpers escape from his lips.
You both feel the warmness spread inside your bodies; it takes away both your problems for the time being, and both of you can forget about the mean stares or hurtful quips.
Your lips met again; it’s another innocent peck. Coriolanus goes back to his hard, relentless thrust.
“Deeper, please.” You whine.
So, he sinks himself deep.
Still thrusting inside of you, Coriolanus positions your knees to your chest, your feet dangling over his shoulders. He puts his whole body weight on top of you, smooshing you like a printing press.
"Fuck." He curses under his breath.
Coriolanus looks down at the obscene picture of where your bodies are connected. It was the wet sounds coming from both your bodies and the shade of beat red that coats both your private parts that got Coriolanus drooling—a string of spit leaks from Coriolanus's mouth and onto your chest.
It's when you slowly start to feel your plateau creeping when you move Coriolanus's hand gripping your hair (ironically held at the spot where you bumped your head.) and move his hand to your clit.
Coriolanus caught onto your subliminal messaging quickly, and he used his slender thump to press down on your tiny nub of flesh. He felt the pulsing sensation from your clit to his thump.
The slow pulsing of your clit becomes fast pumping throbs the closer your peak comes. The extra stimulation on your clit was phenomenal, but it was Coriolanus's needy panting that sent you over the edge.
You feel yourself clench tight around his cock before you were coming undone.
In one long sigh, you limply lay as Coriolanus still fucked you raw. You close your eyes as you let him penetrate you.
A few mere sloppy thrusts later, Coriolanus finds himself twitching inside you from the look of stupefaction on your face. Shortly after, you feel his hot liquid spurting inside of you.
He falls on top of you, just as dazed as you. The both of you stay like this for a while: Coriolanus laying on top of you, a sweaty mess, cock still buried inside of your cunt; now and then, you'll kiss his temple, or he'll stroke your cheek.
At some point, you both move from the floor to your bed, finding solace in one another's presence.
You break the comfortable silence first once the realization is set. "My mother can never find out about this."
This is when the realization sets in for Coriolanus. It was your lingering, the way you'd always linger around Dr. Gaul and her laboratory. "Dr. Gaul is your mother." He states.
You hum, crawling over him to get out of bed.
"Y'know, you almost had me nervous back in the common room; I thought you knew." You scoff.
Coriolanus intently watches you as you go to your dresser, pulling out a fresh set of pajamas.
Gaul with children, a peculiar thought.
"Why hasn't she ever mentioned you?" Coriolanus asks. 
You sigh. "She doesn't want people to know I'm her daughter, as much as I don't want people to know she’s my mother. It's a bad look for her, I think. A mutation-obsessed woman with the redeemable qualities of a nurturing mother?”
You tsk. 
"I'm taking a shower." You say. "Care to join me?" 
Coriolanus dismisses you with a "sure" and tells you he'll meet you in the bathroom in a second. 
As he watched you close the bathroom door behind you, Coriolanus had this nagging thought gnawing into his brain.
Y/N is going to win, He thought. 
Indeed, you were going to become Dr. Gaul's single subject; you were her daughter.
Yes, snow always landed on top, but snow eventually melted and became puddles of water; what was thicker than water? Blood.   
Coriolanus saw your portion of the essay lying neatly on your desk. He'd been eyeing it ever since he'd come inside of you. 
Coriolanus once swore that he would never let a woman come between him and what was important: winning. 
He found joy in watching the ones he hated fail and found more joy in watching the ones he hated watch him win. 
The fact that you two had sex wasn't going to change anything for Coriolanus; after all, you were his competition.  
As Coriolanus Snow left the 3rd-floor girls' dormitory, a sly smirk splayed across his face as he tore your essay apart and threw the shreds into the trash. 
The gesture wasn't as callous as he wanted, but it'd be one of many to ensure he'd win. 
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randomfanner · 12 days
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My Ramshackle Headcanons
if you haven’t seen the animated pilot for Ramshackle you should. It’s really good. These are just my headcanons based on the limited information we have. completely understand if you have your own these are just what I think and could easily be disproven.
headcanon number one that applies to all of them: all these mother fuckers have Autism or ADHD or both. Also I know they are referred to as kids a few times but I think they are more young adults. (Expect Stone, he is an ‘old’ man)
Stone(27ish)(He/They) - Demi-romantic and asexual - I think the alcohol he is drinking is vodka, because it is something strong enough for Molotov Cocktails. (And sometimes when he wants to fuck with people he will drink Vinegar) - He was actually part of the upper crust considering his more expensive habits he has picked up before meeting with the other two. I don’t think he left his family on the best of terms. - Keeps watch out during the night most often… probably after the others have gone to sleep. - Oldest in the group and the last one to actually join everyone else
Vinnie(24ish)(She/Her) - I have been describing her as a hungry battle whore lesbian and I don’t plan to stop any time soon. - Likely came from the orphanage and escaped or was kicked out due to constantly causing trouble. Not that she cared much. - She somehow is always showing up with mysterious bumps, bruises or cuts and whenever it is addressed she just shrugs and “I don’t know where it came from-“ - Literally never gets sick e v e r. She has an iron stomach and an iron immune system.
Skipp(25ish)(Look me dead in the eyes and tell me Skipp cares what pronouns you refer to him as. He doesn’t) - Pansexual because much like not carrying about what pronouns you use for him, he doesn’t care what gender you are! - Before running into Vinnie, he would get by playing music and getting tips. Never made all that much but will still sometimes do it. - Vinnie totally taught him the basics of how to fight on the streets after an unfortunate incident of someone trying to steal his fiddle and that is how they first meet. Now he can kick your ass. - if anyone in the cast has a living blood relative they get along with it is probably Skipp. However they probably aren’t doing much better.
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melishade · 1 month
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Sorry about that. Named are not my strong suit. Especially if the names aren't English or Spanish. The only foreign show I've watched where I can remember all the names is One Piece.
Anyways, if Elita's been trapped that long, between Zeke talking to the Emporer and Mikasa's visit, that means she missed the fight.
There's no way she's not gonna notice the new scar on Optimus' shoulder. Levi and/or Wheeljack would definitely take the opportunity to get Megatron in trouble twice in one day.
Elita-1: So, what did I miss?
Optimus: Oh, nothing much. Just bit of trouble with the Marleys, Wheeljack and Arcee dropping by, and Azumabito Clan wanting to see our strength by having Megatron and I-
Megatron: *Covers Optimus' mouth* Atatatatatatatarah!
Elita-1: *Glares at Megatron* What happened?
Megatron: Nothing of importance! Mind your own business!
Levi, Wheeljack, and every other person who hates Megatron or likes drama:
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@excelciorst Part 8: Elita getting out of Hizuru
Pacifist husband/bloodthirsty wife. That's hilarious.
Elita would ultimately ask about the scar, but Optimus quickly tells her that they'll discuss it later because they have guests and he doesn't want them seeing any more violence than they already have. And the royal family and Kiyomi already got a peak of the Elita v Megatron and the aftermath.
Kiyomi whispering to Taisho: Maybe it was a good investment after all.
Kenshin: Please tell me that you did not refer to the titan that just kicked the Flying Titan's ass as a 'good investment.'
Cause they've heard the reports on the Flying Titan from Marley. And Kiyomi has seen Optimus and Megatron fight. That is honest to god terrifying, seeing one of these titans fight with an intent to kill.
Hanji: Hello, your majesties! My name is Hanji Zoe: Commander of the Survey Corps! While we let Buckethead wallow in a pain of his own creation, how exactly was it that you've managed to find Elita?
Elita and Wheeljack stay outside on the Jackhammer and listen in on the conversation in the building while Optimus and Arcee are inside with their holoforms. Taisho explains that he had bought Elita because he was simply trying to buy one of the newer model cars that came on the market. Kiyomi then explains that Kenshin had learned about Elita's actual identity and were trying to find the exact same model car she copied before anyone found out.
Levi: Buckethead blew her cover by just being himself.
Kiyomi and Kenshin: Yes.
Optimus hates the fact that his conjunx is being considered property but keeps that to himself.
Then there's also the fact that Taisho brings up the deal he and Elita made: 5% increase in energon and protection from coups in exchange for free passage to the island and government secrets. This is a controversial deal, mainly because Elita isn't known and could be at risk of being discovered. Not to mention she's going to be in service to a country that they don't know they can completely trust yet. Katsuko has remained quiet in all this, but does notice the way that Optimus reacts to something that would jeopardize Elita's safety. Something as simple as a flinch or a flex of the finger. Her husband is as stoic as he appears to be, but...this was familiar.
Now somewhere along in that conversation, Taisho does refer to Elita as machinery and/or property, and oh fuck no one has ever seen Optimus look that pissed without saying a word. Arcee is genuinely afraid (because she doesn't know Optimus and Elita are a thing. No one expect Ratchet really knows among the Autobots.) And the Survey Corps immediately take a step back. And Optimus warns Taisho of not referring to any of the Autobots as machinery or property. And then it finally clicks for Katsuko what the hell is going on and quickly requests an intermission before pushing Taisho out the room before he gets himself killed!
Elita is a little embarrassed but also a little smitten. She knows that Optimus was pissed from audio. However, Wheeljack is confused why Optimus reacted that way, and Elita, seeing that the war is finally over, decides to tell him.
Wheeljack:
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Finding out that your leader is alive, Megatron is alive, Elita is alive, and that Optimus and Elita are in a relationship really breaks some brains. But the fact that Wheeljack has been on this world for at least 24 hours and this is what he found out, really makes him love the place.
Meanwhile Katsuko has to quietly explain to Taisho away from everyone else that Optimus and Elita are lovers you dense idiot! Taisho already got the idea that Megatron was considered and enemy, and is no doubt considered hostile, but he never expected lovers in any of this.
Katsuko: Darling, lover, my precious hare...you're so dense sometimes and I hate that about you.
Taisho blushing in embarrassment: You married me when I asked, so what does that make you?
Katsuko: You are sleeping on the couch when we get back home.
After that debacle, they work out the deal and come to an agreement before the royal family head back home. Kenshin gives Mikasa her gift of origini and sakura mochi before hugging her (causing Eren to nearly snap at him) before heading off. Elita is finally able to calm down...until she notices the claw marks patched up on Optimus' shoulder.
Elita: Optimus, what happened?
Optimus grows rigid at that question: I fear if I answer, you may kill him.
Elita inhales deeply before turning to Levi: What-!
Levi with the biggest smirk: Optimus and Megatron fought each other to show their battle prowess and Megatron injured Optimus.
Elita's optic starts twitching.
Levi: Drawing energon.
Elita draws her sword. Optimus gets in her way.
Optimus: Let it go.
Elita: Optimus-!
Optimus, more commanding: I am ordering you to let. it. go. I am fine.
Elita puts her sword away: Stop making excuses for him.
Optimus: It has been a long day. I do not want any more conflict.
Levi laments being robbed of his fun. Meanwhile, Hanji is surprised at how much Levi is actually smiling because of Megatron getting pain.
Optimus and Elita definitely spend some time catching up with each other in private. Elita goes after Megatron again once he feels better. Wheeljack tells Arcee about Optimus and Elita being in a relationship, and she goes:
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This world is going to break her brain.
And true to Katsuko's word, Taisho sleeps on the couch, and she locks his office so he can stew in what he did wrong.
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saras-devotionals · 2 months
Text
Quiet Time 3/5
What am I feeling today?
Still sick, also lazy. I was very unproductive yesterday and it kinda killed my mood. I need to make a structured plan for today to adhere to so I can get back on track when it comes to work. But excited too! I got accepted to something amazing and I’ll be getting more details and everything today, just feeling really encouraged by that!
Luke 7 NIV
(v. 6-10) “So Jesus went with them. He was not far from the house when the centurion sent friends to say to him: “Lord, don’t trouble yourself, for I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. That is why I did not even consider myself worthy to come to you. But say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come,’ and he comes. I say to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.” When Jesus heard this, he was amazed at him, and turning to the crowd following him, he said, “I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel.” Then the men who had been sent returned to the house and found the servant well.”
My main focus was near the end in which it says Jesus was amazed at him. I just find it really interesting that Jesus can be amazed by us and in the case of this man by his faith.
(v. 13-15)
“When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, “Don’t cry.” Then he went up and touched the bier they were carrying him on, and the bearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, get up!” The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother.”
I like this too because it says that his heart went out to her and I’d like to think the same happens with us. Whenever we experience a painful hardship such as the death of a loved one, his heart goes out to us and brings us comfort.
(v. 23) “Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.””
I like this, because the way we avoid stumbling is by abiding heavily to the word and his teaching. I feel that the parallel for this is found in Luke 17:1-2 “Jesus said to his disciples: “Things that cause people to stumble are bound to come, but woe to anyone through whom they come. It would be better for them to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around their neck than to cause one of these little ones to stumble.”
(v. 26-28) “But what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written: “ ‘I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.’ I tell you, among those born of women there is no one greater than John; yet the one who is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.””
I’m curious about the ending, where he says that there’s no greater than John but even the least in the kingdom of God is greater than him. I went to some commentary because I was confused by this and this is what they said:
This seemingly paradoxical statement is resolved by the considerations: (1) that John the Baptist was not in the kingdom of Christ, the same not being set up until after John’s death, and (2) that the term "greater" has reference to privilege, rather than to character.
(v. 40-43)
“Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.” “Tell me, teacher,” he said. “Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?” Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.” “You have judged correctly,” Jesus said.”
I like this parable, I feel it’s rather simple and reasonable to understand and I’ll get into the point of it in the next verse:
(v. 47-50)
“Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.” Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” The other guests began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.””
Although all sin is sin and separates us from God, it’s notable here that there are some that sin more than others (there are times we can compare ourselves in saying “well at least I’m not that bad”, but it’s critical to keep in mind that we are all still sinners!). But also notable here is that Jesus says whoever had been forgiven little loves little. And although it’s no small feat to be forgiven of all your sins, I do understand the point here and wonder if it affects my relationship with him.
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elvenbeard · 10 months
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Hold on tight to yourself, not just anyone else When you've sailed to the edge, nowhere left to go
I've talked about my experimental light and water shooting in last week's wip wednesday, and I'm here to finally share some fave pics xD I have more, and I might post some on a separate occasion or just use them for OC ask stuff where they fit, we'll see!!
Vince is someone who often asks himself where his place in the universe is, even more so growing up, but the doubts keep creeping in again now and then regardless of how much more confident he is now in his own abilities and goals. I kind of wanted to capture this feeling of being lost, just floating for a while as you try to figure things out here... and play with light and color.
I didn't really take any behind the scenes pics for this (I should really start doing that) but I made some shitty sketches just now with my mouse cause I mentioned I wanted to illustrate how I did this xD Also for my personal reference, cause I wanna do something similar, slightly different for another project in the future!!
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Very simply, this was the setup xD I used Denny's pool as location, mainly because it was the first that came to mind, had a decent size, and I wanted to do some stuff there anyway xD I think you could pull this off in any other pool or body of water just as well. Originally I wanted to keep the normal pool background, but then I spawned in a black wall from the photostudio props to block out the sunlight and get a darker backdrop, and I really liked that!!
I had three customizable point lights spawned, a red one below V, a purple and greenish one above him - I don't remember the exact placements, I mainly just wanted a nice color contrast and I like those colors and played around with where I put them!
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Something like this!
Now, the ripple effect of the water...... I had V spawned in via AMM, and so Player!V was also still there in the scne, so I just ran around his spawned self a little bit to create the splashes xD And voila!
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I always take my pics just in in good old vanilla photomode, and at first I had pathtracing on for it (raytracing is also on). And I did like that as well, but look at these unedited pics:
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The reflections look a lot more natural and detailed, but are also waaaayyy less colorful. So if you wanna go for a more realistic approach that might be the better option! Everything else is the same, lights, backdrop, etc.
These are some unedited shots with pathtracing off (raytracing still on):
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The lights kind of create this oil-spill like effect on the water and I loooove that so much!! Also, the red light from below was reflected in his eyes in a really cool way somehow (less realistic, but very aesthetic xD)
So yeah! If your graphics card can handle it, mess with all the ray/pathtracing settings a bit for a variety of effects xD
Also, all my pics are usually heavily edited in case you couldn't tell XD I love vanilla photomode for its convenience, but it has its limits when it comes to color adjustments, depth of field, and the like!
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Same shot, unedited above, edited below. Played with color balance, saturation, sharpness, and in some of the pics some slight motion blur, too. I also shopped in his top surgery scars cause I didn't get around to trying to make them as a mod yet but it's on my list XD For more of them artsy pics with consistent looking scars!
Thanks for reading this far, I do hope it was interesting and you can take something away from it for your VP XD
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xticklemeemox · 24 days
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The Love You Want: III, Part Five
Keep in mind for one part of this, Vessel using 'it' in reference to one of three's murderers is in no way intended to insult anyone who uses those pronouns!
murder vessel <3 not particularly gory, though i did intend to go that direction. my brain simply failed me when i got to the murder V part, even though i was so excited to get to it
also III's murderers use slurs against the lgbtq+ community as well as vulgar language in reference to the vessels. bear that in mind.
longest chapter to date methinks
Word count: 16,687
AO3 version
Previous Chapter
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Masterlist
Fic under the cut <3
III cannot breathe. The arm around their throat only grows tighter with every futile attempt to escape. Harsh, ragged breathing is hot against his ear beneath his mask, and III is filled with all consuming panic.
Their assailant is bigger than them, wider and more muscled and III can't wiggle away, despite their thinner frame. The man must weigh at least fifty pounds more than III, all hard lines behind him.
What is the point in being a God's Vessel if he cannot even get away from a human man, regardless of their weight difference?
III kicks their feet out, trying to drop all their weight so that man has a harder time continuing to drag them deeper into the forest.
"This should be far enough. Not that anyone would come looking for you anyway." The man mutters, kicking the back of III's knee in and dropping to the ground at the same time.
III hits the dirt covered forest floor, twigs digging into their face through the mask before that man turns him around, a knee placed into his lower sternum, holding them down. A hand is used to hold III's wrists together to his side, pulling on one shoulder painfully.
There's a flashlight in his eyes, blinding their vision with white. It burns, like III was staring directly at the sun. They cover their eyes to escape the brightness, vision going white.
"Stop fucking struggling." The man spits, voice familiar in a way III can't place as they contemplate their ability to lean up and slam their head into the other mans.
III only struggles harder, more desperate to escape from the man and his dark tone promising violence.
"Let me get a look at you before I knock your lights out, freak. I've been waiting for the chance to get one of you alone. It might have been easier to get the little one."
The flashlight is still in their eyes, he can't see. It hurts, it hurts. There is such anger in them, too, at the thought of this man getting ahold of II instead. It wouldn't have gone as well, III is sure. II is far stronger than III and Vessel combined. He could probably overpower this asshole easily.
"Don't." III begs, trying to push them away from him as the man continues straddling them.
Wrongness was building up inside him with every inch of those fucking fingers closing in on their mask, the flashlight held in that very hand, too. Despite the situation, III can't help but think the man has some amazing dexterity.
His face belonged to no one but the other vessels and their God. No one else is supposed to see him. No one. No one.
"Shut up!" He hisses, leaning in close so III can smell the foul odor of his breath, "Your weird little friends just showed up one day and became the talk of the town with those stupid fucking masks, then you join them. Y'all in a cult or something? Can't show your face cause of some false God?" III kicks his feet at the insult to those they love, his God, aiming for a groin, a knee, anything.
"Fuck off!" III snarls, earning a knee in the ribs for their snark.
III lets out a grunt at the contact, at the ache it brought. The knee remains, like before but worse, holding him down and making their breaths come in short pants at the pressure placed right below their sternum. The man on top of him was burly, with a cruel smirk that twisted his facial features into something hideous. He could've been attractive if his personality wasn't so fucking atrocious. Watching him above them, like a beast over their prey, III is reminded very suddenly of their death.
Tears gather in III's eyes as they realize exactly who is on top of them, at the sharp pain slicing through their head.
III knows him, remembers what he did. Remembers the kicks to his ribs and stomach. There is a face to the memories now, that III didn't have before. He feels sick, like something has shifted inside them that should never have been touched. They weren't supposed to remember faces.
Just as Sleep took the faces of the people who knew the Vessels Before, He took some of the sway they held over the vessels. Memories can be so much worse when there are faces to those who hurt you. They are more tangible that way, something real and not just a distant dream that could be moved past. III could pretend, before, that they would never truly be hurt by them again. They were wrong.
III's head aches, like someone was repeatedly hitting them upside the head with a sledgehammer. The pain traveled from his temples, to the back of his head, along their jaw, down into his neck and spine. It hurt, it hurt-
Sleep's presence is creeping up on him, a low chorus of voices getting louder with every passing moment.
You should not remember.
You should notremember.
You should not remember.
There is crimson in his line of sight, and III wonders if it is blood, but no, the man's shirt is just red. They're the passerby from earlier. They must not have been close enough for who they were to click but III is a mess at the realization.
III looks around frantically, begging Sleep for anything that could get them out of this. His bonds were a mess of confusion and desperation, fear that was not his own. II and Vessel must be worried and III hates that he's causing those emotions. He should never have left. Should've known something was going to happen. Should've stayed with them instead of letting their newfound fear of bloody red get the best of them.
YOU SHOULD NOT REMEMBER.
The man manages to grip the bottom of III's mask, inching it up as he laughs at the revulsion in III's gaze. "I just want a peek. You must be pretty, must enjoy letting those weirdo's of yours fuck you, huh? Everyone has seen the way you fags act around each other. Disgusting. God didn't create man to fuck other men, but I bet the little one would be a good lay. He's small, pretty eyes and everything. If I keep the mask on, it won't matter if he's ugly underneath. I might even be able to pretend he's a woman."
The mask is up to his chin now, baring a small question mark freckle by his mouth, III radiating fury as the wrongness inside of him screams to get the man off. Get him off. Shut him up. He disrespected everything III cares for. Something itches at his side, distracting him for a mere millisecond before their anger overtakes him again.
The thought of this man touching II with even a finger, of even getting within touching distance at all, makes them sick.
III is still struggling, wiggling in the hold pinning them down to the forest floor. For a moment, the hold on one of his arms is gone, and just when III thinks they've found an opening, a fist is slamming against their cheek, forcing it to the side with the power behind the punch.
It aches all around one section of their face, now, as another blow in the same spot causes stars to explode across their vision.
"Stop fucking fighting!"
Rage is heating his blood to a boiling point, III is bursting at the seams with it, his lifeblood is going to boil out of his veins, overflow his insides with lava, its going to burn them alive- Shut the fuck up. Shut up, shut up, shut up- don't touch him- let them go-
Sleep's presence roars in his ears, righteous anger burning them up from the inside out, his skin itches fiercely, something within them clawing it's way to the surface.
YOU ARE MINE. YOU BELONG TO ME. YOU SHOULD NOT REMEMBER.
His arm shoots out, but its not the two held down. Its different, spindly like a spider with fingers long and thin with clawed tips. It knocks the man off them, and III sits up, pulling his mask back down from where it rests on his chin hurriedly.
Sleep is pleased, still upset, still raging in the back of his mind along with their migraine, but when that man was knocked off of them, the God calmed some, possessively lingering in III's bones.
The phantom limb fizzles away in a waft of pitch black smoke, and III wonders if they've finally lost their marbles completely.
In the next second, a blur passes by him too quickly for his eyes to catch, warm hands reaching out and pulling them up and to an equally warm body.
MINE. YOU ARE MY THIRD. MINE. YOU SHOULD NOT REMEMBER.
Sleep whispers in their ear, a cacophony of possessive voices determined to make sure III remembers who holds their soul in hand.
III looks up through blurry vision, relief filling them immediately at the soft touch. "Two. You're here."
"We came as soon as we felt something was wrong. I'm sorry we didn't get here sooner, he dragged you pretty far and we don't know the area that well." II explains, an arm wrapping around III's back to pull them closer, a hand cradling their head so gently against II's chest.
His heartbeat under III's ear is soothing, a slightly fast pace, strong, clearly telling of II's distress, of his relief in the bond, of them running here to help III.
"You came for me. No one ever- No one..." III cuts themself off.
III lets himself cry, salty tears glimmering with golden specks soaking into their mask, knowing that II would never hurt them. He came for him, II came for him. No one came for III when he died. No one helped him.
"Of course we came for you sweetheart." II soothes, visibly checking III over for any injuries but ultimately unable to tell due to their clothes.
"Vessel?" They asks, questioning where the other man is.
Did he stay at the car? Is he here somewhere-?
There is a resounding thud, a groan, and III moves their head from II's neck to try and look, but II shakes his head. A grunt of pain sounds from where II urged III not to look. III looks up at him with wide, confused eyes still leaking tears, and there is a hardness in II's gaze that III has never seen before, a fire heating up the blue, darkening it with II's anger.
II is watching Vessel, tracking every movement, taking no action to stop the other from whatever it is he is doing, is going to do. He felt the pain in III's bond, the strange sense of realization and the terror that followed, just as Vessel had. Anything Vessel does to this man will be well deserved.
Vessel stands over the man that had attacked III, all six-foot-something pulled up to his full height, usually hunched over to appear smaller. The lines of his mask seem harsher with his fury as the man attempts to push himself up from where Vessel had knocked him back into the tree, regaining his bearings after III had knocked him away just seconds earlier.
"You motherfucker!" The man yells, holding his head where a slit has opened up, dripping blood into his brown-colored eye.
"Silence." Vessel commands with a hiss, the tip of his split tongue peeking out from his mouth, fangs on either side, and the mans mouth falls shut with a click, staring up at Vessel with wide eyes, pupils mere pinpricks.
II and III have never heard that tone from him before.
"Do not touch them with your tainted fingers, ever again." Vessel growls, low and menacing, leaning in with a snarl so that his and the mans face are mere inches apart.
The man begins to get up, mouth curling back in disgust, a hand against the tree to balance himself. Another shove from an invisible force knocks his head into the tree with a loud thunk, a dazed expression falling over the mans features as he slumps over, body slipping to the side to the forest floor.
Vessel holds him down without any problem, vines growing out from the forest floor to wrap around the mans wrists and ankles, pinning him much the same way he pinned III earlier.
"Please, Vessel, can we go home? I want to go home." III begs desperately, clutching II to himself tightly, sick satisfaction twisting in their gut at his assailants pained groans.
II tightens the arm wrapped around III's back, pulling then impossibly closer.
Vessel reigns in his ardent rage, forcing a calm sea into his thoughts and across the bond. His anger still simmers, low but scalding where his heart should sit. It surges through his blood, the red and the black lit like a fire, his nerves aflame. Every atom of his being longs to just kill the man.
The thought should scare him. Vessel doesn't think he was ever inclined to hurt anyone, let alone kill someone, Before. He supposes now that he finally has people who show him care, he'll do anything to protect them.
Vessel reaches down to the mans temple, ignoring his angry cussing and slurs, and with little thought, puts him to sleep with the barest touch of his claw. Vessel fights back his nausea, not willing to let himself puke.
Vessel turns, leaving the man pinned to the foliage covered floor without a second glance, crouching before III and II. All six of Vessel's eyes soften, his eyebrows furrowing beneath the mask in fondness as he cups III's cheek.
III hisses in pain and Vessel retracts his hand hastily, an apology falling from his lips hurriedly. Guilt makes his insides squeeze, biting his lower lip harshly with a sharp fang that cuts skin, blood welling up.
"Not you, promise. He got a couple hits in before you both arrived." III explains, reaching out desperately for Vessel's hand as the man's gaze turns murderous.
He moves to stand, to turn right back around and stomp that fuckers face in, but III has taken Vessel's hand in their own again, pulling it up to rest Vessel's palm on their uninjured cheek.
III is shaking, small trembles every few seconds.
"I want to go home." III repeats, and Vessel shares a brief look with II before nodding shortly.
He stands, and II and III follow. Vessel squeezes III between them as they walk away, an arm around their shoulder, hand brushing II's shoulder as they walk. The gas station comes into view in minutes, and Vessel is pissed the man had managed to drag III this far in and had been able to hurt them before he and II got there.
III asks II to pick up the restroom key they'd dropped and return it, and II does so, leaving and coming back quickly to find III wrapped around Vessel like a koala, pressed against his back with their head on his shoulder. II smiles, a sad little thing tinged with surprise that Vessel is letting III that close without his usual layers.
III stays like that till they arrive at the car. Vessel hops in the drivers seat, putting the seat all the way back so he'll fit as II and III pile in to the back seat in a mess of limbs.
Vessel takes his cloak off of the back of the passenger seat, tossing it back onto III who still trembles, turning around to pull out of the parking spot when II starts spreading it over them as best he can.
Despite II's questioning gaze, Vessel pulls into a parking space outside of a phone shop. Without a word, he goes in and buys the best ones on the market with little thought to the price. The workers, a little intimidated, do not ask many questions as Vessel's tone, and the aura of danger surrounding him leads them to get him in and out of their shop as soon as possible. As Vessel signs his name on the needed documents, the words blur to his vision. His hand writes out letters in what he knows must be his usual cursive, but his eyes do not register the letters. Sleep graciously wipes much of the workers memories and fuzzes the security cameras, muddling them so they can't quite recall the name of the person who had just bought three expensive phones, instilling in them an unwillingness to investigate. Vessel is grateful for the intervention, sending that gratitude down the bond as Sleep's presence looms at his shoulder. The God is upset, lingering in the car with them after Vessel hands over the boxes containing the phones to a confused but accepting II and III. The papers containing their phone numbers is handed over as well.
'He isn't supposed to remember.' Sleep murmurs in Vessel's ear as he drives, and his knuckles turn white against the wheel.
'The Third is in pain. You were not meant to remember.' Sleep says softly, a gentle breath against the shell of Vessel's ear.
'How do you know, my God? Did they tell you?'
'No, he is unintentionally screaming of his hurts downthe bond we share.'
'Is there anything we can do?' Vessel asks, gritting his teeth and trying to focus on the road, not on the gentle murmur of voices in the backseat.
'You asked me once if I would tell you the names and faces of the humans who murdered the Third.'
The implication is there, and Vessel comes to the correct conclusion easily.
'Do I need to kill them?' Vessel glances at II and III behind him in the rearview mirror.
Their new phone boxes lay unopened in their laps, II nuzzling his nose into III's hair after they took their masks off. III is crying softly, still, head buried in II's shoulder, face barely visible past the loose strands of blonde curls that have fallen free of their bun. They are staring at II's hands, the way II's fingers caress III's knuckles with such gentle care.
Vessel does not allow his envy to overpower his rage. II and III matter far more to him than his own feelings regarding the two. Someone hurt III, put their grubby paws on him. If III wants to take comfort in II, when Vessel knows they've been growing increasingly closer, then he will not let his envy consume him.
'You were going to ask me to assist in ending their lives, were you not, my First?' Sleep asks, and when Vessel does not answer, only nodding imperceptibly, He continues, 'Their deaths are not necessary, no. I'm sure it would bring you great satisfaction to give justice to the Third. I can take their faces from the Third once more, and there is no chance of anything like this happening ever again, if you take their lives. The pain should dissipate regardless. I recognizeyour interminable need to temper their ailments. Decide soon, My First. The Third continues to be in pain.'
Vessel is quiet the entire ride home, contemplating if he really has the conviction to do something so drastic. II helps III begin setting up their phone sometime during the drive, and then when that is done, does his own phone. Vessel wordlessly hands his own phone box back, and II sets up Vessel's. Its quick work putting all of their phone numbers into their respective phones, and III is glad for the distraction of downloading apps or fiddling with games he may potentially like, head leant on II's shoulder. The pain doesn't abate, not in the slightest, but III feels its slightly easier to manage when they are so clearly cared for and safe in II's arms.
Vessel is quiet when they enter the manor, a wraith at their heel. Elvira tries to paw at his feet as he follows II and III up the stairs, so he picks her up, cuddling into her soft fur. She hangs limply, tail flicking back and forth as she lets Vessel do whatever he wishes.
Vessel lingers at the door, arms hugging himself, unsure how to help. Unsure what to do. Items in the room start to slowly, slowly lift from where they were placed, hovering gently.
When Vessel notices, they plop back down with quiet thunks. He stares at them, head tilting minutely to the side. With a little concentration, a stray pencil on III's desk beside the door begins to levitate, turning in a slow circle before plopping down quietly. Vessel thinks it must be his gift from eating the apple of Eden. For eating his own heart that has become divine after offering it up to his God. He wonders if he, too, has a weapon like II's battle axes.
II turns III's lamp on when he urges them to sit on their bed, crouching to pull out a medkit from under III's bed, and Vessel gets his first proper look at the purple blooming across one side of III's face. Anger surges through all three of their bonds, a raging hurricane that Vessel tries to reign in. His automatic reaction is to shut it down. So he does.
III lets out a pained whine as II snaps, not with anger, simply frazzled, struggling to keep his volume level, "Vessel, you promised!"
"Give me a second. I- I... just, please. Give me a second, I'm sorry." Vessel grits out, forcing words out of his mouth despite the tightening of thorns around his throat, crossing the room quickly and taking III's hand as he kneels in front of the bed beside them.
III and II were his. Vessel didn't care if they loved him or not. He loved them. As long as that love still lived in his soul, they would be his and he would protect them. III had been hurt. It was one thing for III to tell them that he had been hit. His anger had already consumed him at that time, what was a little more? Calmer now, to see what the asshole did to III... Vessel would take his hands for daring to touch what was Vessel's.
It's time to make a request of his God, one he knows will be granted.
"Shouldn't have let you go alone despite your insistence. I'm sorry, Three. I'm sorry." Vessel blurts, leaning his masked cheek on III's thigh, tears falling onto its inside surface and over the edges of the eye holes as he turns the bond back on.
Elvira starts up a purr, enjoying being pressed into Vessel's chest. Such an odd little cat. III tries to reassure Vessel despite the aching in their jaw, a hand coming to rest on his head and stroking gently over his hair and mask straps, but it is II speaking up that gets Vessel to calm some, "We won't go into town alone anymore. Groups of two, no one wanders off alone. It's clear now that it isn't safe. Our status as vessels is simply too dangerous a moniker, even if regular people don't know exactly what we are."
"He killed me. That man. I know it. He was one of the ones that killed me. I'm not supposed to remember his face but I do. He- Fuck. Fucking shit. It hurts." III whines, using their available hand to cover one side of their face, one side of their ribs beginning to itch.
There is murder in Vessel's six eyes at the admission, tears still leaking from his eyes. It merely confirmed what his God has already claimed, but Vessel is livid at the words falling from III's own lips. The way they had broken off in a pained moan, the way Vessel has truly taken a moment to focus on the pain down III's bond. Vessel has thought it was from where III had said that piece of shit hit them. That pain is there in the bond, but something darker lingers behind it, deeper in their veins.
"I agree with you, but this time it wasn't entirely just a random civilian. He had killed me." III finally responds to II's earlier statement, utterly miserable, the itch beginning to become unbearable as II leans into III's space, setting the first aid kit down nearby and wrapping them in a hug.
"Fuck. I wanted to be accepted." They sob, wiping furiously at the tears spilling angrily, despairingly, down their cheeks, "I wanted to be accepted and Sleep has doomed me to turn into a monster-"
II pulls them closer, letting III wrap an arm around him. A hand is carding through their hair so tenderly, the other arm wrapped around his lower back to keep them close.
"You're not a monster, honey. Don't talk about yourself that way." II soothes as III continues sobbing, Vessel wrapping his arms around III's leg.
They hiccup, blubbering, "You didn't see me! You didn't see what I did, what came out of me. It looked like the arm of a spider, it was disgusting. I'm disgusting."
II tries to keep from stiffening at the thought, his fear of spiders seeping into the bond even as he tries so desperately to keep it away. III feels it nonetheless, physically and mentally, and lets out a low keen of distress as they try to pull away, a hand clinging to II's shirt. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." They repeat, and Vessel is reminded very suddenly of himself.
He doesn't want III to feel that way, ever.
An arm emerges from III's side, startling all three of them. III shrieks, trying to move away but the arm simply moves with him, wisps of dark smoke trailing after the limb, clawing at their sheets and leaving deep slices in the material. Vessel watches, in some strange fascination and confusion, while II stumbles back, eyes wide as fear floods the bond.
Elvira scrambles out of Vessel's arms with a yowl, hopping out of the room quickly. Vessel doesn't even feel the new scratches on his hand, his bandages saving his arms from too much damage.
"Two, step out of the room for a second to calm down, please. It's still Three, not a spider. It's still Three." Vessel manages through the tightness in his throat as he notices II's breathing beginning to become labored and quickened.
II nods, unable to speak past his fear as he flees, sending strong feelings of regret and apologies through the bond so thoroughly it nearly drowns out his still present fear. Vessel can tell he doesn't go far, the door being left cracked open, and the slow sound of II sliding down the wall to sit just outside the room easily heard. II brings his knees to his chest, angry at himself for allowing such a stupid fear to upset not only himself, but also III. They don't need this right now. Tears slip down his cheeks as he tries in vain to lessen the tremble that has set into his bones.
Vessel moves to sit on the bed beside III, pulling them close and carefully avoiding the new limb more for III's sake than his own. "Two has a fear of spiders, this isn't your fault." Vessel tries, but III is quick to cut him off.
"No, no, Two is going to hate me. He won't want to be around me anymore because of this." III sobs quietly, also aware II is still near, clutching Vessel's shirt in hand with a tight grip.
Vessel shakes his head, "Two would never be so quick to leave you, Three. Have some faith in him, he cares for you. It will just take time for him to work past his fear. I've always been the one to remove any of the spiders in the house. He scared me half to death the first time he found one here."
"I have given you a gift, my Third." Sleep says, voices bouncing off the walls as their presence emerges from the darkness, no longer lingering at Vessel's shoulder.
Their upset is clear in their voices, hurt and offended. "You ate the apple of Eden. This power is what was given in return for accepting me. In time, the Second will learn to get over his fear. He must, for I will not take my gift back. Learn to use your power, it is not all it seems."
"Okay, okay," III takes a deep breath that hitches once in the aftermath of his cries quieting, steeling their resolve, trusting in Vessel, trusting in their God, "I'm sorry, Sleep. I- I just don't know what to think right now. I'm... Scared. I'm scared, but- Fuck, I believe you, Ves. Is this what you deal with all the time? This insecurity that the people you care for are going to leave you?" III asks suddenly, peeking up at Vessel through their eyelashes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."
The question throws Vessel off, unsettling him as Sleep's presence fades to the background as He leaves at Vessel's silent, reassuring urging in the bond. He didn't realize that III knew what his anxiety whenever they left the house without him was about. Didn't realize they knew one of the reasons why Vessel was so hesitant to let himself be open with the both of them.
Vessel reaches out across the tether connecting their souls and really lets III's emotions wash over him. The self-loathing and the uncertainty, the biting anxiety that seems to eat away at his body until there is nothing left but a broken shell. Vessel hates that III knows what that feels like.
"Yes, it's a lot like this." Vessel finally admits after a moment of silence, hoping III will drop the topic to save himself the pain of admitting something so deeply ingrained in his very soul.
"How do I get this thing to go away?" III asks after taking a few more deep, steadying breaths, the phantom arm moving slowly with III's direction, seemingly not needing to use his other arm to spur movement.
Its hand tightens into a fist, curling and uncurling before each finger moves individually to touch what seems to be the palm. Vessel takes a deep breath in hopes to loosen the fist around his lungs, squeezing and making it increasingly difficult to speak. He hopes he can stave off his impending silence a little longer. He has things he needs to do. People he needs to hear him.
"When I first used Sleep's sleeping ability, it took some concentration and imagining what I wanted to happen. Try to picture the limb disappearing the same way it appeared, beloved." Vessel cannot stop himself from saying the endearment, hates how easily it slipped out.
III doesn't seem to notice, doesn't say anything nor pull away from Vessel, only closes their eyes to focus. Vessel knows he will be punishing himself for the slip-up later, cursing his lack of self-control. III attempts to do what Vessel advised, and on the second try, the phantom limb seems to be sucked back into III's body in a swirl of thick black smoke. III sobs with relief, curling into Vessel's side closer than before.
"You did so well, Three! I'm so proud of you." Vessel praises, calling II in once he's sure the spider-like arm won't come back.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." II blurts desperately as soon as he enters the room, hovering by the door hesitantly. "I brought an ice pack, for your bruising. I didn't think any of our stuff in the medkit would work. It's mainly for cuts."
Vessel does not miss the apologetic glance II sends him, nodding in acceptance. Its not like II is wrong. III looks up from where his face is hidden behind Vessel's shoulder, forehead resting against the bone, and makes grabby hands at II. II sighs in relief, the feeling echoed through the bond, crossing the room quickly and shoving himself into III's space for a tight hug.
III falls onto the bed with a soft oof, letting II hold them however he pleases. A hand blindly reaches for Vessel, holding tightly to his shirt again, and Vessel lets a soft smile pull at one corner of his mouth. II holds the ice pack to III's cheek as he continues to wrap around them like a koala.
"'S cold." III mutters into II's hair, eyes closing as appreciation flows down the bond, "Feels nice though. Helping my headache a little too."
Vessel's gaze seems to sharpen at III's admission, reminded of the events of the day. "Try to get some rest, both of you." Vessel urges, moving to stand.
"You're not staying?" II asks, as III follows it up with, "I was hoping you'd sleep here again. Well, not sleep, but... cuddle? As much as you're comfortable with?"
Vessel couldn't refuse, not with the way II turns to look up at him with such shining hope in his pretty blues, and III turns his own blue eyes on him, widening them a little for effect. And effective it is, because Vessel caves in immediately. They welcome him with open arms and soft smiles when he returns with his usual heavy layers and a thick blanket, and Vessel returns that smile. Its small, but genuine, and Vessel is happy.
He adores them.
When night next falls, Vessel has some bastards to send to his God. Tonight, he will relish in the touch of the two people he loves most in this world, will plot revenge on behalf of one of them.
Later, cuddled up under the blankets and fast asleep, holding onto II tightly with their head tucked into his chest, III stirs. Vessel, becoming used to this, sits up, his own blanket slipping off his chest as he places his book down, eyes alert and watching III for any signs of distress. Sure enough, there is a pained crease between their brow and Vessel pulls the nightmare III is experiencing from their temple. Like every other time, it slips down his throat with ease. Unlike every other time, Vessel is a little breathless at the ecstasy the taste brings. He craves the nightmares more and more, and knows he should not keep eating them.
The night of his assault, III dreams of their death. Dreams of desperately watching people pass by the alley they had been dragged into. When they see who is being hurt, who is begging for help with their eyes behind the hand covering their mouth, they glance away. Some look as though they regret their decision as they walk away, others sneer with a twisted sense of righteousness. III is left in the hands of those who will kill him. They dream of all their attacker had said that day, and then it isn't just III being held down. Its II, writhing in agony under the grip of the only man whose face III can see clearly.
Vessel waits long enough after the nightmare ends to make sure neither III nor II awaken, then flees to his room to puke up his guts. Nausea roils in his stomach, a relentless churning of disgust. Hopeless and powerless in the face of III's suffering and the concern they feel for II. He knows who he's killing first.
Vessel paces his room for nearly an hour, clawing at his arms in his anxiety before moving to his thighs as the punishment he knows he deserves.
A thought strikes him and he continues pacing, wondering if he should even ask.
"My God? Are you near?" Vessel whispers in question.
He knows he could just tug on the bond in his chest to ask, but doesn't see the harm in voicing his questions aloud when he is trying desperately to keep his voice until he has done what is needed.
"I am here, dear First. Is it time?" Sleep murmurs, voices a low croon in his ear.
"Not yet. I- I am waiting until tomorrow-" Vessel stalks to his window, pulling the curtain aside briefly to see the barest glimmers of orange peeking over the treeline, "Ah, tonight. I have a different question. II has his battle axes, III their spider arms. Do I have a weapon, and is this strange ability to levitate objects mine or something I have accidentally borrowed from you?"
"Hm, levitation is not one of my abilities, no. It is entirely your own. I'd imagine it is not something so weak as levitation, but perhaps a telekinesis of some sort. Your abilities are a little harder for me to navigate. As for a weapon, you do have one. The Third will as well, with the appearance of their shapeshifting. Yours has been with you since your awakening as a proper vessel, you need only learn to conjure it." Sleep informs him, and Vessel is glad his God seemed to be so willing to share.
If Vessel asks, then his God will answer.
As Sleep speaks, Vessel grabs his own medkit that II insisted he keep in his room, wrapping his arms and thighs with fresh bandages after disinfecting the new wounds.
"I see. Thank you. I will get to practicing right away. If I cannot manage it by the time night next comes, I will kill Three's murderers with my bare hands." Vessel resolves in a quiet hiss promising violence.
Vessel leaves his hoodie on his bed, changing into clothes more suited for movement. A pair of his looser jeans, and a tank top under a t-shirt. A hairtie pulls his hair back into a sort ponytail to keep it out of his eyes, and Vessel clips his mask to a belt loop at his side. As he leaves the house, bending to pet Elvira on the way out the door, Vessel realizes he should let the others know where he is going.
Vessel finds II's contact in his phone easily, sending a message to him, and then repeating the process with III.
Vessel: Out in the forest, practicing something. I'll be back in a little while. :::)
After a moment, Vessel decides to change their contact names. He sets II's to lowercase letters, two i's to represent two drumsticks. For III's, he puts two question marks, with a third one upside down in the middle.
A familiar fog lingers on the forest floor as Vessel walks, a destination already in mind. When he wasn't in the house, reading or writing lyrics or spending as much time with II and III as they would allow, much of his time was spent out here in the woods. Branches reach down to brush his shoulders as he goes, catching his hair and letting the strands go before they can pull too harshly. Vessel's hand trails over harsh bark and through low hanging branches, feeling the energy of the surrounding nature. The forest seems to breathe, to sing its own tune, with the whistle of wind and bird song through the canopies. He passes mushrooms of all types, and knows when night falls, the forest will be alight, and perhaps more beautiful.
The clearing he heads for comes into view within the hour, deeper into the forest than he usually ventures. Over time, he has come to know this place like the back of his hand, as every lifeform seems to react to his presence, leading him wherever he wants to go. Even though its a more unfamiliar section, Vessel isn't uneasy. This is Sleep's domain, and Vessel snd his beloveds are safe here.
Its a far cry from when he first arrived, stumbling and in pain, knees and palms meeting the foliage and its hard twigs and pebbles so many times before he eventually found the manor. The forest no longer leads him astray, as he is one with Sleep, and this place is the God's earthly domain just as much as dreams and nightmares.
Vessel loiters at the edge of the clearing for a few minutes, unsure what to do with himself, before he steels his resolve and takes that first step. He has some vague idea of how to go about this, he just has to put it into action.
Taking a deep breath, Vessel closes his eyes as he stands in the middle of the clearing. Another deep breath, and he imagines a weapon appearing, any weapon. He doesn't think it matters what he uses. He just needs something. Nothing happens for a long time.
He leaves the bond open, and as the day wears on, lets them feel his mounting exhaustion and anxiety and determination.
Sleep must take pity on him as noon rolls around and he has made no progress. Sitting on the ground with his head in his hands, Vessel leans imperceptibly into the small breeze that blows his hair around.
"My sigil on your neck is a symbol of your powers awakening."
"I have had this since the beginning." Vessel says, reaching a hand down to brush against the red sigil in the hollow of his throat.
It tingles faintly at the careful touch, "Do Two and Three have one as well? I didn't see one anywhere visible."
"They each have their own, yes. Your weapons will manifest with the help of something dear to you."
"Two's battle axes were his drumsticks." Vessel tries to think of what his may be.
"I don't have my piano." Vessel mutters, and Sleep's laugh reverberates in his skull, echoing around him and through the trees.
"A good guess, my First, but it is not your piano. Take another guess, what other instrument is dear to you?"
"My voice?" Vessel offers, head tilting to the side as he lifts his head from his hands.
"Your body, my First. Your voice, yes, but it is your body."
"I... My body is not dear to me, my God. I actively destroy it myself, frequently."
"Do you wish death upon me, my Vessel?"
"What? No, of course not. What does that have to do with-"
"Your body is your instrument of worship." Sleep says, knowing His vessel will understand from that alone.
Realization strikes.
"Oh."
Vessel offered his God his heart. Vessel offers His God his blood. He offers his past and his pain and the memories all held close in his soul to His God. He is going to use his body to protect the other vessels, is going to use it to avenge the Third. Even if he cuts into it, even if he kills himself, the damage is superficial.
If Vessel really didn't care for this body, for His God whose life is connected to his own, or so they say (Vessel questions the validity of that statement), then he would have taken a knife to the altar room wall where the sigil holding his heart rests.
But Vessel does not truly wish to leave His God, nor the other vessels. He loves them, and as long as they'll have him, he'll stay.
"Thank you, my God. I understand now."
Sleep's voices are fond as they fade, another breeze ruffling Vessel's hair, and he knows it's his God, touching Vessel in the only way he can. "Of course, my dearest Vessel. You have the knowledge you need, now you just have to utilize it."
Utilize it, he will. II had summoned his completely on accident, completely concentrated on himself and his instrument. Vessel decides to focus on concentrating on his body, as Sleep said it is what will help manifest a weapon.
Closing his eyes, Vessel relaxes his posture, and places his palms down on his knees. Then, he really tries to become aware of his own body. Vessel feels the dull ache in his knees, the sting of his fresh cuts, every inhale and exhale becomes deliberate. The dryness in his throat, the movement of his eyes behind his eyelids.
An ache starts in Vessel's spine, spreading around to his ribcage.
A deep breath in, a long exhale.
The ache disappears.
There is a weight in his lap, something hard under his palms. Opening his eyes, Vessel stands, his weapon held in one hand loosely.
The scythe is bone white, curved only slightly like the spine it is made of. Where spine meets the sharpened rib turned blade, a ribcage has been etched into the bone. In the ribcage sits a blackened, realistic heart, with spots of gold and red for detail. Vessel is reminded of daggers, and how some pommels are intricately carved. Its missing some vertebrae in a section towards the middle where Vessel's hand would grip the handle, black leather laced with a couple straps of white leather. The vertebrae are smaller after the handle, going down in size until they end where the sacrum begins, before going down into a sharp point of the coccyx, almost like a spearhead.
With an ease he didn't think possible, he swings it around so that it nearly aligns with his body vertically. Its almost as tall as himself, save half a foot.
Vessel grins, overcome with delight, and with barely a thought, the scythe disappears in a small shower of golden sparks. With a little concentration, it appears again in the same way.
II and III send down feelings of question, and Vessel responds by simply tugging gently on the bond, a faint thrum of excitement traveling down it. Vessel makes his scythe disappear as a text comes in a second later, from a group chat Vessel didn't start.
(Eepies)
ii: Are you coming back home now Ves? I made lunch. Did you want some?
Vessel: No, thank you. Go ahead and eat.
ii: Okay =)
III has changed the group name to Eepies (was Sleep's Vessels)
ii: III, honey, what does eepies even mean
?¿?: sleep's sleepies. y'know, sleeps vessels. eepies. and you're always sleepy
ii: Sure honey, that makes total sense
?¿?: is that sarcasm I feel like that's sarcasm >=/
Vessel: I'll be heading back soon.
ii: Did you finish whatever you were working on?
Vessel: Yes :::)
?¿?: stop being cute >=/
Vessel: Whatever do you mean?
?¿?: im not explaining, ii gets it
ii: The six eyed smiley face is adorable. Thats what III means
?¿?: aww =( =( =( you told him =( =( =(
ii: Ves would overhink it otherwise
?¿?: overhink
ii: Learn what a capital letter is sweetie before you mention my typos
?¿?: doll you dont seem to use punctuation consistently
II sends a photo of a pouting cat with a human middle finger plastered over its paw and III sends back some strange laughing face. Vessel frowns, looking up at the sky after glancing down at the time on his phone. Just past noon. He didn't think it was that cute, but those two confuse him so often anyway, he's not even going to question it. Not even going to question the teasing that hasn't turned into an argument, like Vessel thought it would.
Vessel: Heading back to the house now.
ii: Okay, be safe!
III sends a thumbs up emoji, and a few caret symbols, showing their agreement with what II had said. Shaking his head with a small smile, Vessel begins the trek back to the house. His phone dings numerous times for new messages, and when he stops to check, his anxiety making him think its something important, he sees that III has spammed the group chat with a bunch of photos with overlaid text. II calls them memes, and the word is familiar to Vessel, though he doesn't remember really ever having any sent to himself, nor sending any out.
Its cute, despite Vessel not really understanding any of them. He enjoys the smell of nature around him, the sun peeking through the overhead canopies warming spots on his face. The brightness stings his eyes a bit but Vessel has become more used to it as time goes on.
Passing by a mushroom cluster, Vessel decides to take a photo. He first has to figure out how. It takes a second, but he manages to get one and sends it to the group chat with a bit of difficulty.
The image is of a cluster of tall milky white mushrooms, with a wide, white head that goes into a dark, murky green in the middle. Vessel's fingers have accidentally gotten in the bottom of the frame, and the rest of the photo is a little blurry.
?¿?: oh thats a mycena chlorophos!!!!!! It glows a neon green at night!!!!! ^_^
ii: Nice photo Ves! Hold the camera still a little bit longer next time <3
Vessel grins, turning the phone around to take a photo of himself. He sends it to the group chat after a little deliberation, forcing himself to not think about it too much. Its blurry, moreso than the other one, only catching the top half of Vessel's face and a little of his proud smile, a thumbs up deliberately in frame.
?¿?: =O
?¿?: =D
?¿?: ^_^ youre so cute
ii: You're so cute.
Vessel blushes, turning his screen off to try and get rid of some of his embarrassment. The entire time spent walking back to the house is filled with Vessel overthinking what the fuck he just did. Why did he send a photo of himself? He shouldn't have done that, even if they said he's cute. He's not cute, and he definitely shouldn't have sent that photo of himself.
Upon returning to the house, Vessel finds that II and III have unloaded the car and gotten the TV and PlayStation set up in the downstairs living room. Miraculous internet and electricity access aside, Vessel is a little disappointed he didn't get to help. It would've been interesting to watch the set up process.
III hops up from the couch when Vessel enters the living room, taking his hand gently and pulling him excitedly over to where the TV is turned on, a game idling on the loading screen.
"You're back! We were waiting for you so we could start NieR: Automata."
"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to make you wait." Vessel apologizes, guilty, unable stop staring at the purple swelling on III's face.
The sight makes him so, so angry.
"No, no, Sugar. I didn't tell you we wanted to play anything, you couldn't have known. Besides, no harm done. I do have some patience in me!" III reassures before calling out to II.
II comes down the stairs, a couple blankets already in hand. He smiles when he sees Vessel, offering a greeting that he returns, and they all settle on the couch, blankets laid over their laps.
"Who all wants to play?" III asks, and Vessel watches as II shakes his head.
"I'm alright. I'm content to watch."
Seeing II decline leads Vessel to thinking its okay for him to do the same, "I'll just watch you play, for now. Later, perhaps."
"Aww, okay. That's fine. Well, don't laugh when I inevitably die. Repeatedly."
As the game starts, and the opening sequence begins, a woman begins speaking.
"Everything that lives is designed to end. We are perpetually trapped in a never-ending spiral of life and death. Is this a curse? Or some kind of punishment? I often think about the god who blessed us with this cryptic puzzle... and wonder if we'll ever get the chance to kill him."
Vessel is enraptured immediately, leaning into III and laying his head on their shoulder. III plays as a stoic android woman, 2B, one of many androids tasked with wiping out machine lifeforms so humans can return to Earth. She is joined by witty, emotional 9S, a surveillance type Android, and their pods, little rectangular machines with small arms designed to help with assault and data collection.
Despite III's words, they don't die that often. They spend a few hours just watching III play, and Vessel is intrigued by the story and the world instantly. The music is beautiful, and Vessel loves it immediately, would love to listen to it outside of the game even, to hear it better past all of the sound effects of the game itself. The boss fight against a machine who tries to make herself beautiful using the bodies of androids, all for the attention of another arrogant, narcissistic machine who never even knew she existed is terribly sad, and the first fight to kill III.
Elvira hops up in II's lap at some point, asking for affection insistently.
"Hi, baby, come to hang out with us?" II asks, petting Elvira's head as she leans into it with a short trill.
She leaves II quickly to curl up in Vessel's lap, kicking up a low purr as her tail brushes his arm. Vessel smiles, looking down for a second to pet her properly, keeping one hand running through her fur when his attention moves back to the game.
II pouts at the fact his cat just left him. Its a cute sight though, so he doesn't mind that much. II slowly takes out his phone, snapping a photo and setting it to his phone wallpaper, even if the angle is a little too far to the side. It shows III focused intently on his game, a little furrow in his brow, Vessel's head on his shoulder and Elvira sitting in his lap, nearly lost in the black blanket spread over both of their laps. Its so fucking adorable, II wants to explode.
They take a break when dinner rolls around, and Vessel escapes to his own room for a little while.
The others can tell he is distracted the rest of the day, zoning out frequently at the dinner table. There is satisfaction in the bond even then, telling of Vessel's success earlier that day with something he doesn't share with the others. They don't mind, happy to see him happy about something, whatever it is.
There is anger still fizzling under his skin at the pain III does not hide entirely, but clearly makes some attempt at lessening its flow over the bond. They had taken some medicine for it earlier, and while it seemed to help, it wasn't anything substantial.
II and III go to worship together, leaving the door open in case Vessel wants to join. He doesn't, leaving them to their worship. The smell of the floral incense III had gotten recently spreads to the rest of the house, a subtle scent that doesn't overpower any of their noses. The ink is still seeping back into their forearms when they leave the altar room, hand in hand.
Everytime they go in, Vessel fears they will hear his heart.
II and III are disappointed when Vessel doesn't come to bed with them like he had been. He instead urges them to go on without him, stating he wishes to worship for a little while. II frowns as Vessel avoids their question when III asks if he's going to come lay with them later.
There is guilt in the bond. It is not II or III's.
"Goodnight Ves!" III calls with a yawn, waving from outside II's door with his other hand pressing an ice pack to his cheek.
Though still a deep purple, the swelling has gone down at least. Vessel waves back with a smile, still a little curious as to why the other vessels sleep as humans do. His God had said so many hours would not be required, and yet, the others seem to feel exhaustion and tiredness as they used to, Before. A question for another time, perhaps. He turns one pair of eyes to II next, who clearly looks as though he wants to say something. There's a war going on in his eyes, indecision stark within them as they watch Vessel with something akin to curiosity. Vessel wonders if II knows what Vessel is going to do.
"Goodnight, Vessel. I- I..." II pauses, unsure, and ultimately does not finish what they were going to say.
Fuck, II loves Vessel so much. He just wants to be able to say it, to tell the other man. He wants to be able to tell III, too, but they both fear that Vessel will think they are leaving him behind if they confess properly to each other first. He wants Vessel to be able to tell him things, wants to share the weight dragging him down. Vessel has opened up so much since the beginning of II's time at the manor, is so proud of him for it. Fuck, II just wants to smother him and III in love without holding anything back.
He turns, tired eyes sad as he shuts his door behind him, leaving it open a crack in invitation.
Vessel stares after him, longing deep in his bones.
II and III cuddle close, II allowing himself to be the little spoon. "Did he seem alright to you?"
"Does Vessel ever really seem alright?" III mutters back sadly, burying their face in the back of II's neck, breath fanning against his nape and sending light shivers down his spine.
"Well, no, but I think he's hiding something." II says, stroking gently fingers along the length of III's arm that's laid over his side, pulling him close to the other.
"He could still be upset. I think what happened with that asshole yesterday ago shook him up more than me." III attempts to joke at the end, but it falls short.
"Don't undermine your pain, I had to wake you from a nightmare just this morning. I'll admit Vessel was the most angry I've ever seen him. He didn't seem to want us to see him that way either. His bond has been radiating guilt since dinner. He was so distracted after we stopped playing NieR. Do you think he hurt himself again?"
"It's definitely a possibility, but he's been getting better at coming to us or cleaning them himself. We can either ask or let him come to us."
"We'll ask in the morning. He's been getting better at telling us things, too. Though, he did leave his mask off today. He's hides so much from us with that thing on, even with the bond."
"Mm, his face is such an open book, its no wonder he hides it. Its clearly also a comfort thing too, he never sings without it." III says into II's hair, feeling the others bond beginning to fuzz up.
"I wonder what expressions he makes when he sings. I bet they're cute."
"Its Vessel, of course they're cute." III takes II's hand that has gone limp in their hold, bringing it to their lips to place a tender kiss against his knuckles.
II hums an agreement, drifting off in the following silence. III tries to pull him closer, but its impossible since their bodies are already flush together. He wishes Vessel was here with them.
Vessel waits in his room for a little while for his chance to worship. When he feels II's bond go fuzzy with sleep, feels III's follow a few minutes later, he heads to the altar room.
He kneels in front of Sleep's altar after lighting a match, all the candles then lit with a flame, except the red one which burns a shining gold. His God is already here, awaiting his word.
Taking a knife, one of many he keeps in his room, Vessel slices into his forearm, purposefully reopening a newer wound so that II and III are less likely to notice it. Human and divine blood drips steadily into the offering plate, and once he is sure there is a sufficient amount, he places a large, shiny moss-covered white stone in the center. He lets his bond close, not all the way, open enough for the others to tell he is still alive if they awaken unexpectedly.
Taking a deep breath, steeling his resolve, Vessel begins to speak, mask settled securely over his face.
"My God, I am formally requesting the names and faces of every person involved in Three's murder."
"As you wish, my First. Take a bite."
A glowing orb, iridescent in color, with wisps of light smoke floating off of it sits in the offering place, replacing the stone and his blood. It is almost like the nightmares he eats.
Without any hesitation, he picks it up. It slides down his throat smoothly, sweet and airy, like a dream. Perhaps that is what it is.
Vessel is in town, the light of the sun stinging his eyes as it creeps towards the horizon. Before him, walks III, maskless as Vessel finds himself, completely human, and like a beacon, radiating such life and energy, bouncing a little with every step. The sight makes Vessel smile. He's entering a music shop, and Vessel scrambles to follow. He doesn't call out, hates the attention it would bring, only follows closely behind them. Looking around the busy shop as III browses, Vessel tries not to think about all the people around him. At one point, III stops, and Vessel doesn't notice, colliding directly into them.
Only, there isn't actually any contact made. Vessel's whole body tingles, like every bit of himself had gone to sleep all of a sudden, and he phases right through III. It's disorienting and Vessel is left blinking rapidly in confusion. III doesn't seem to notice anything weird had happened, continuing on with picking up a CD and glancing over its back cover. They put it down, and Vessel continues following them for a few minutes. They leave the store without buying anything, muttering about nothing new being stocked yet. As they're leaving, Vessel recognizes one of the people entering.
III compliments one of the men in their group, and all three of them gain this strange, hateful expression. Vessel feels his stomach sink.
One swings an arm around III's shoulder, pulling him along with them as they crowd him in on one side, and the back. He couldn't escape, their placement intentional. III keeps eyeing the men around him nervously, shuffling along as they lead him down the street to a dingy alley, with closed down shops on either side. There are fewer people here, Vessel notices, as he follows at their heel.
He tries to grab III, to pull them away from these people, because he knows what comes next. III had told them, without such exact detail as witnessing it himself. Already Vessel feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, desperately trying to touch III, to get them away, to shove the men away from him.
His hands phase right through, tingling so badly he can barely move his fingers.
Vessel cannot stop the cry of rage, of despair as they corner III in a circle, as he is shoved against a wall and the first blow lands. Every one after is like a knife to Vessel's chest. When III slides to the ground, slumping over in a daze, and another kick sends them sprawling, Vessel falls to his knees at his side. Desperately, he looks around the alley, begging for someone to help III in his stead. A man passes by, glancing at them and then looking away as though nothing was happening. A woman and her boyfriend pass by next, and while she wants to help, the boyfriend pulls her along. All these people pass by as the sun sinks below the horizon, as a shifty streetlight blinks haphazardly at the entrance to the alley, and no one stops to help III. Its sickening.
As his tears fall, Vessel does not look away. He will not be like them. He will not hide from III's pain. He will not look away. It would be a disservice to the agony they went through. Vessel needs to witness every moment so he can return the pain tenfold to their murderers. So he sits, hands hovering over III's form as it jerks with the force of the blows raining down upon him. And watches. Continuously wipes away golden tears that blur his vision. He memorizes every crease, every freckle, the exact shade of their eyes and hair. Each pair of eyes is dedicated to flitting about and catching every minute detail. He listens intently to III's ragged breathing, their pained groans and whimpers, desperately wishing he could touch him, hold them close, save them from this pain. Listens to the words they exchange, the calling of names to let someone get a certain hit in. Listens to the timber of their laughs and the sounds of their gaits as they walk away.
Daniel Wright, Kade Schaefer, Denzel McBride. He will not let the three of them get away with this.
Vessel sits, ignoring the tingle where his limbs touch III as he bends over their limp body. An ear is pressed as close as possible to hear the ever fading sound of IIII's gurgling breaths beginning to slow. They cough, choking on their own blood as Vessel sobs over them, unable to help, blank eyes staring up past where Vessel tries to hold them in their last moments, but cannot. This has already come to pass. Vessel is merely here to be a witness.
A shuddering breath is like a cannon going off, a shrieking wail following when no more breaths come to pass. Vessel keeps trying to scoop III up in his arms, to hold him even though he knows he can't. Its agony, one of the worst things Vessel has ever experience in this life or Before. No, it IS the worst thing he's ever experienced. He hopes nothing ever compares to this ever again. If anything happens to II and III, Vessel can only hope to join them when he inevitably ends himself, completely and utterly. His only regret would be not being able to trade his life for theirs, for not being able to spare his God what would likely be a significant loss as His First Vessel.
Choking on a sob, Vessel comes back to himself, bleeding sluggishly onto the altar table, mask pressed into the empty offering plate.
Those motherfuckers will not be given the privilege of having their names uttered in Vessel's head. From here on out, they will be dubbed Dipshit, Fuckface, and It, in order of highest on his shitlist. Dipshit will be his first kill, Vessel has been wanting to get ahold of him since he'd dragged III off.
Vessel takes a moment to wrap his arm back in his room, deciding not to clean it and wanting to feel the pain. Vessel was simply going to leave in what he was already wearing, but his God's voice stops him.
'Adorn yourself in the cloak you arrived in.'
Vessel's confusion is clear in the bond, 'Yes, my God, I will do so. Might I ask why?'
'You are to offer me their bodies, yes? Your chest must be bare.' Sleep explains no further, and while Vessel remains confused, he does not question any further.
The house is silent, the others' bonds still asleep. Vessel slowly pushes II's door open, glad it doesn't creak. Emboldened by what he is setting out to do, Vessel creeps forward and places a gentle kiss each in II and III's hair. They do not stir, wrapped up in each other under a mound of blankets. Its cute, and it makes Vessel sad. He cannot allow himself that sort of closeness, even with all of his layers, and they respect that need for space. Vessel loves them, even if they don't love him in return. When they inevitably get together, Vessel will be happy for them. He can only hope they'll still want him around.
Placing his phone on the nightstand, he also puts a pre-written note that says he'll be back soon over the device, so it won't be missed. Vessel closes the door behind him with a soft click, Elvira following after him. She's at his heels all the way to the front door.
"You can't follow me, Ellie. I'll be back." Vessel promises, leaning down to pet her head.
She meows indignantly as he closes the front door behind him, and he chuckles a little at the pretty cats antics. He grabs his cloak from the car, stripping out of his shirts. Its a little awkward at first, Vessel unused to baring himself in such a way, but with every moment spent with only the robe on his back, he finds he enjoys the comfort of the material more and more.
His mask transforms, the mouth hole covered and the point elongating, twisting into something akin to a mouthless grimace of anguish to make the whole thing truly unsettling.
"Should I take the car?" Vessel mutters, "The old thing might wake the others up when I start it though. Its loud as shit."
'I will transport you to town. Find them, follow my pull in their general direction, enact the Third's revenge. You know their names, their faces. Lure them from civilization into the forest. End this.'
Sleep gives Vessel no warning before the ground beneath him opens up, dark tendrils wrapping around his legs and arms, pulling him down and swallowing him whole.
Sleep's power spits him out from the dark shadows of a building, gasping and trembling like a man drowned. The tendrils recede from his skin with a gentle caress, and Vessel sends his thankfulness down their bond as the dizziness recedes. Once he feels stable enough to stand, he does so as he looks around him.
'For what you will be giving me, this is nothing I will not easily gain back.' Sleep says, voices weak and shaky, and Vessel nods in understanding.
He must return this power to his God soon, if only to help them not sound so frail. Vessel does not like it. Vessel will force himself to sing in front of a crowd, if he must, if it will gain his God more worshippers.
Vessel pulls his hood over his head as he starts forward, a pull in his chest leading him east. He sticks to the shadows, confident the darkness will hide him from the view of the street cameras. His own phone could capture his face, he's not sure if other devices will.
'If you wishto be seen, you will. It will be inevitable when you eventually worship around non-vessels.' Sleep murmurs, still tugging him along.
People pass by him on the sidewalk, not sparing him a glance. Vessel eyes them with his usual anxiety, but does not stop moving. He comes to a stop outside of a crowded bar, the pull in his chest like a tether, pulled tight and threatening to break. One of III's murderers is in there.
Vessel walks in, no one sparing him a second glance. Scanning the crowd, Vessel spots Daniel Wright easily. Dipshit is laughing at the bar with his friends, tossing back drinks. Beside him, head leant back in a loud, obnoxious laugh that Vessel swears he can hear from the other side of the building, is Kade Schaefer, Fuckface.
Oh, he is in luck. Two of the three are here. Vessel navigates through the crowd, weaving in and out of the throngs of people as he makes his way to the bar. He stops perhaps halfway there, as Dipshit turns his head, feeling the gaze of Vessel burning a hole through his head.
Dipshit catches a glance of Vessel's mask in the crowd, freezing up in the middle of taking a sip of his beer. He chokes, coughing as Fuckface slaps his back in attempts to help.
"Did you see that?" Dipshit asks frantically, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Fuckface turns to look, confused, but Vessel is already lost in the crowd. "Maybe you've had enough to drink, man. You were already spewing bullshit yesterday."
"I'm fucking telling you the truth! One of those little assholes did something with the ground, with plants! It was fucking insane!"
"Sure, man, sure, and I'm a wizard."
"I'm fucking serious-!"
A hand reaches out and grips Daniel's shoulder. Daniel startles, turning to look at who is touching him and wondering why the color has suddenly drained from Kade's thin face.
Vessel smiles, though neither can see it, keeping his tone friendly. "I wish to speak with the both of you outside, if you could spare a moment of your time."
"Why the fuck should we do that, freak? Thought you'd had enough when you and your little fuckbuddies ran off with your tails between your legs." Daniel spits, trying to shrug Vessel's hand off as Kade watches Vessel warily.
Its hilarious that Dipshit doesn't realize the only reason he survived another day was III stopping Vessel. Its amusing that he doesn't realize Vessel's anger only grows with every insult towards his beloved's.
"What seems to be the issue? If anything were to happen, you could easily beat me. You held my friend down rather easily. You're bigger than I am. Besides, there are two of you, and only one of me." Vessel urges, head tilting just so to the side.
Kade eyes Vessel as though he is going to eat him alive. Perhaps Vessel, or rather his God, will.
"Hey, Daniel, maybe we shouldn't-" Kade tries, but Daniel cuts him off.
"Shut the fuck up Kade, what's the worst that could happen? Little cult freak is right. We outnumber him. Besides," Dipshit grins, eyeing Vessel up and down like he is already picturing what blows will cause Vessel the most pain, like he did to III, "He only wants to talk."
"Yes, just talk." Vessel confirms, turning his mask to watch Kade.
Kade doesn't seem convinced, but follows Vessel and Dipshit out of the bar anyway, after putting their drinks on a tab.
Vessel's grin grows wider, stepping out under the unnaturally bright moon. Vessel easily remains visible to the eyes pinned on his back, Sleep's presence prominent, though weak from the use of their magic.
He takes the lead, confident in his ability to fight back if the other two try anything. Kade and Daniel whisper conspiratorially, keeping their distance. They think this'll be quick, that no one will look for Vessel except the other freaks in their little cult. This will prove otherwise.
Vessel leads them around the back of the building, towards the forest that surrounds the town on all sides. More of the seedier areas, which to be fair is most of the town despite the peoples misplaced pride, are all on the outer edges.
It only makes Vessel's goal easier to reach.
When Vessel is sure they've not been followed, when he is sure they're deep into the forest, he turns. Dipshit and Fuckface stare at him, Kade eyeing him nervously as Daniel begins to walk towards Vessel.
"Well, you wanted to talk, freak. Let's talk." Daniel throws his arms wide, and Vessel lifts a hand quickly.
Kade flies back with a shout, hitting a tree as vines wrap around him to hold his body to the rough bark. Daniel is shoved into the ground with a flick of Vessel's other hand, vines wrapping around him too and dragging him towards the ground so tightly his body digs into the dirt. He flails, but his limbs do not gain any traction.
Once Vessel is sure neither will escape, he stalks forward with a pleased smile under his mask, robe trailing behind him.
Vessel straddles Dipshit, pressing his full weight onto him just in case and takes a good, long look at what he had achieved the day before. Vessel grins, lips bared in a snarl, like a feral animal as he revels in the sight of the bruising, the swelling, on the mans face from where Vessel had managed a good hit or two before III had called him back.
Vessel brushes a reverent claw over it, and Dipshit sneers under him, trying to buck him off and failing miserably. Vessel's digs that claw in as he drags it down Dipshit's face, watching blood bead up as he cuts a line down and off his jaw.
Daniel hisses in pain. "I knew you three were fucking faggots. Get your filthy hands off of me!" He spits, but Vessel only tilts his head a little to the side in amusement.
"Is that all you have to say? I expected worse, something more vulgar perhaps, after what you said about the shortest of us." Vessel keeps his tone light despite the anger hidden beneath.
Vessel's hands are around his throat, nails digging into the soft flesh sporadically. One long, sharp claw traces the mans jugular, slowly putting pressure until the man hisses in pain, then releasing, only to repeat. The entire time, Dipshit's breathing grows more labored, air supply slowly getting cut off with the pressure Vessel's hands are putting around his throat.
He is toying with him, like a cat with a mouse.
"Are you jealous, freak? What I said wasn't so bad." Daniel laughs despite the situation he is in, and Vessel wonders if he has any preservation instincts at all.
As though Vessel could speak of self-preservation instincts.
"You three should know all about sharing. Probably take turns passing him around like some useless little fucktoy."
Vessel snarls, leaning in closer, eyes glowing behind his mask. Daniel only continues, not realizing he is dooming himself to a quicker death, "or maybe you pass the taller one around? No, he got too upset when I said I'd fuck your little friend. He seems the possessive sort-"
Vessel has heard enough and in one movement, lifts a hand to dig a claw into Dipshit's temple, focusing so hard his vision seems to blur around the edges in single-mindedness. Vessel's gives Daniel a nightmare, he will suffer through every agony they wreathed upon III. He does not put him to sleep. He did make a promise, after all, and he truly intends to try and keep it. Vessel knew pain, it was easy to replicate the feeling on another through a dream.
Dipshit screams and screams, a symphony to counter the horrible sound of III's echoing agonies in Vessel's ears, muffled as Vessel wills vines to grow over his mouth.
Fuckface is struggling against the tree he is bound to, vines wrapped around him tightly as he yells helplessly beneath the vines over his mouth. He tries cutting through the vines faster, hand struggling to hold the knife in his sweaty grip.
Vessel isn't concerned. If he escapes, Vessel will simply chase him down. He'd likely enjoy it.
Daniel is panting when he is through the nightmare, and Vessel puts him under again. He continues screaming but Vessel isn't satisfied, still hearing III's own screaming alongside Dipshit's. He fears the sound will never leave him.
One pair of eyes glances down to Dipshit's hands, and Vessel thinks he has some idea of what might make this whole thing a little more pleasing.
When Dipshit comes to from the second nightmare, gasping in agony at the pain that was so real just a second ago, Vessel stands up, summoning his scythe.
Moving entirely off of him, Vessel poises his scythe's sharp, spear-like end over one wrist.
"These were forfeit the moment you decided to lay a finger on what belongs to me."
Wasting not even a single moment longer, Vessel brings his scythe down to sever the hand from Daniel's body. He screams in agony, trying in vain to move his head to see what has become of his limb. Vessel doesn't allow him time to process the loss, doing the same to his other wrist in one swift movement.
Sobbing now, the realization that Vessel is truly something other sets in. Vessel hopes Daniel realizes he isn't making it out of this alive. He couldn't imagine being so arrogant as to think yourself invincible to the wrath of something that clearly wasn't entirely of this plain of existence.
The masks alone should have been reason enough to leave them alone. Vessel hopes Dipshit regrets every cruel action taken against innocents.
"You get what you give. You reap what you sow." Vessel states, hand raising.
"No, no, please! Plea-"
The snap echoes through the tiny clearing Vessel lead them to, and Daniel's eyes go dull. His neck looks strange, turned at an unnatural angle and purple beginning to bloom under the skin.
Vessel turns to stare at Kade, who is still yelling behind the vines. Vessel wills them to recede, curious as to what he is saying, entirely unconcerned about him potentially escaping.
"Please, please let me go! I promise, I won't tell anyone what happened! Please, please! Spare me!" Fuckface begs, unable to tear his horrified eyes away from Dipshit.
His hand moves faster, finally cutting himself free. As soon as he is free to move, Kade books it back in the direction of town. A shame. If he had not ran, Vessel would have given him a nightmare, too. They all deserve to feel what they've done to III.
Vessel laughs, a low, hollow thing as adrenaline courses through him. He gives chase, reveling in the rush. Vessel didn't expect to enjoy his revenge quite so much. He'll punish himself thoroughly for such sick enjoyment later. For now, there are still two to kill.
"Death should not affect you so. You've killed before." Vessel calls, moving like a wraith over the forest floor, long legs carrying him with utmost speed towards his prey.
"How do you know about that?!" Kade sobs, stumbling over roots as they seem to appear in his way.
"You killed my friend. This is the punishment." Vessel is nearly caught up now.
Just a little further and his scythe will be within reach.
"Please, fuck, just let me go! Whichever one was your friend, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I'll never hurt anyone ever again! Please, God, I don't wanna die!"
There were more besides III...? Oh, perhaps Vessel doesn't regret this nearly as much as he thought he would. He is doing the world a favor.
"The God's avert their gaze from you, as they averted their gaze from my wrecked, wretched form. Fall at my hands, meet my God, the only one who will look upon your filth, though not with kindness as they did mine."
With a decisive swing, Vessel's scythe meets flesh, tearing through spine and viscera as though paper. Blood sprays, paralysis hitting instantly, and Kade drops, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. His death is quick, bleeding out from the large slash across his back. Vessel's scythe disappears in an easy twirl of golden sparks, and Vessel crouches to lift the mess of a body in his arms to drag back to the other. Blood trails thickly after him, the body nearly in half from the force of Vessel's blow, from the sharpness of the blade.
Blood that is not his own drips down Vessel's front, and he cringes a bit in disgust. If it were his own blood, he would not care.
Vessel lets Fuckface's body drop next to Dipshit's, lining them up in a neat little row. Satisfaction swirls in his chest, and Vessel, for a moment, is proud of himself. He did good, didn't he? He killed these two for III's sake. They won't be in pain anymore.
Will... will they appreciate what he's done?
Looking over the bodies and what he has done to them in his rage... Vessel doesn't think III will think much of him at all, after this.
They will both surely throw him away. It will have been worth it, to rid the world of two people who had enjoyed hurting others. To rid the world of those who had killed III.
Vessel drops to his knees as tears leak down his face under the mask, already grieving the bonds he will lose for his actions today. He hopes II and III will at least look at him when they leave him, even just for a moment, even if their pretty blues are filled with loathing. They always saw Vessel, never ignored him, never made him feel as though he didn't exist.
Sometimes, Before, he craved that in his relationships. Anything to get away from the pain of being seen. With II and III, Vessel wants to be seen. He wants to be heard. He wants someone to want him near.
Vessel's first boyfriend wouldn't even look at him when he left. Didn't care that Vessel was choking on his own sobs and snot, unable to breathe through the panic attack that had paralyzed him, left him stuck clinging uselessly to the doorframe of their shared apartment. Didn't care that all Vessel wanted was to be loved.
Shaking his head, Vessel tugs gently on the bond he shares with his God, who has lingered somewhere close the entire time Vessel has been away from the manor. He raises his arms to his sides, palms facing the moon.
"Sleep, my deity, this is a giving, an offering in your favour, a sacrifice in your name. I offer you the body and blood of those who have wronged me and those I care for. Devour them."
The sky goes dark as night truly falls, the moon hidden behind thick cloud cover.
Darkness overtakes Vessel's skin, turning him into a living shadow. His form blurs around the edges, like he is worshipping at his God's altar. Vessel cries out, claws digging into the dirt as his body goes weak. He crumbles to the forest floor, writhing in agony as a line splits over his chest, skin and muscle parting to make way for his ribs to be seen as red-black blood spills over the wound. Ribs splinter as they crack outwards, exposing the gaping hole where his heart should sit. From the darkness, teeth made from the splintered edges of his ribs open wide like a maw. Vessel pants through the all-consuming agony overtaking every one of his senses.
It was like ripping his heart out all over again, only the pain increased a hundred fold. An indescribable agony that Vessel will never forget.
Tendrils of inky darkness slither from his chest cavity as Vessel moans in pain on his back. He understands, now, why his God wished for Vessel to wear the robe he was reborn in.
'Sit up, my First.'
Groaning at the motion, Vessel half rolls over, shoving himself up with one shaking arm. Taking a deep breath, he shoves again, righting himself on his knees. Through sheer force of will, he keeps himself from collapsing forward.
Some of the tendrils have teeth, wrapping around the bodies and digging in. Soon, Vessel can barely see either of the corpses, covered in shadows and tendrils. They seem to sink in on themselves until nothing is left underneath, receding back into Vessel's body.
He shudders, pointing weakly at something his God had missed. "His hands. Do not forget his hands."
Another tendril reaches out, and Vessel swears he can almost feel the thing move from inside him, but knows that couldn't be right. The tendril picks up the hands, and they both disappear inside of the gaping maw in Vessel's chest.
The sight makes Vessel sick, gut churning with nausea.
'This is the first time you have manifested any of my form. Despite our bond, our linked souls, your human body is still incapable of properly taking on my essence in such a way. I will make note of this. It is not your own failing, my First. That you managed to do this at all is impressive. It is not an easy thing to manifest even a sliver of my being. I am proud of you, and yourbodyfornotgivingoutundertheweightofmy divinity.'
Vessel is not given a moment to relish in his God's pride in him, as a phone rings from somewhere nearby. It is not his own. Vessel lets it go, intending to let the phone die for all he cares, but a thought strikes him.
Two of III's murderers were together tonight. What are the chances the third was going to meet up with them?
Picking up the phone after lettings its ringing end, Vessel finds it easy to open. Vessel opens up the contact that has called, Denzel being displayed in big, blocky letters.
Vessel is utterly pleased. They've made this so easy.
Sending off a text saying that Kade and Daniel had wandered a bit into the woods, asking for Denzel to join them for some drinks, Vessel waits to see if he managed to replicate Kade's texting style. A couple missed punctuations, a purposeful spelling error there, and Vessel thinks he mostly got it right. A confirmation text comes through and Vessel smiles a little. He only has to wait a few minutes for another text to come through asking where Kade is. Vessel texts back that he'll meet him a little further into the forest, receiving an okay in return.
Heading in the direction of town, Sleep leads the way, a gentle pull under his skin guiding him towards Denzel's demise.
'He is near. You have the means to drag him here quickly. End this, my dear First.'
Vessel keeps to the shadows of the trees, the moon's light dim unlike earlier in the night. It helps to hide him from view, the only thing truly visible is the white of his mask. He sneers as Denzel comes into sight, phone pressed to his ear as he smokes a cigarette. The phone in Vessel's hand starts ringing, and he is quick to drop it, moving away silently.
Denzel looks to the sound, putting his phone down and taking his cigarette from his mouth long enough to call out, "Kade! Daniel! Where are you motherfuckers?"
"I can't believe I came out here into the middle of the damn woods for those fools." He mutters, taking another hit of his cigarette.
He walks in the direction of the phone, leaning around a large tree expecting to see his friends. Instead, Kade's phone lays abandoned, screen still lit up with the missed call he had just made.
"What the fu-"
A mass of vines crawl up his legs to the knee, pulling him deeper into the forest as he yells out in shock and pain as his back slams into the hard ground. There is quiet laughter echoing around him as he is dragged deeper and deeper. Yelling for help, Denzel struggles, cursing profusely, unable to reach his legs and free himself, flailing uselessly.
A white dot appears from the shadows, growing nearer until Denzel can see its a mask.
"You're one of those cult fucks!" He exclaims in anger.
Vessel only watches as the vines bring him closer, more coming to wrap around  his arms and pull them out to the sides in something akin to a t-pose. Lifting Denzel up, Vessel's telekinesis power brings him face to mask with Vessel, holding him in the air.
"What the fuck do you want from me?!" Denzel shouts as Vessel watches him silently.
Vessel lets him struggle futilely as Denzel's fear only grows with every passing moment of nothing but endless silence and a creepy, masked man simply staring at him.
"Fucking say something!" Denzel shouts, tugging so hard on the vines that his shoulder burn with the intensity, muscles bulging in attempts to escape.
"Your kind doesn't deserve to exist." Vessel says, and his eyes go wide.
No, It doesn't deserve the right to be called anything of importance. Not after what it did to Vessel's beloved III. He'll never forget the terror, the confusion, on their face as this fucker made that first hit that shattered III's cheekbone, laughing all the while.
Vessel hopes it remembers that it said those exact words to III as they were killing him. As he spit on them, giving a final kick to a body already broken beyond repair.
Vessel places a claw at It's temple, like he did to Dipshit, and the nightmare Vessel gives it is exquisite, leaving it trembling even as its eyes go listless, unseeing, caught in its own mind.
Its eyes clear, tears threatening to fall from thick eyelashes, but Vessel only puts it under again. And again. And again and again until it is simply a limp, sobbing mess that can barely speak past the hyperventilation.
When it comes to a final time, it chokes out, "Who the fuck are you?"
Vessel summons his scythe for the fear tactic alone, bone white gleaming under the bright moon above, Sleep's presence an encouraging croon in his ear, telling him to end it. End it, offer its body to his God. Vessel puts the scythe's sharp, rib turned blade to Denzel's neck. It nicks the skin, drawing red blood that drips slowly down the tan skin.
It pisses in terror, green eyes wide in horror. It shouldn't be afraid of the blade, no, it should be afraid of Vessel himself. It was this thing that had landed the killing blow on III, this thing that had deemed III as something unworthy of his precious life, this thing that had started the assault in the first place. Over a compliment.
The scythe disappears in a shower of gold, and Vessel raises a hand to trace the nick in its skin.
He moves his claw lower, digs it in enough to sting without injury, purposefully not breaking skin as Vessel drags it down over its Adam's apple, over the length of its throat and past the collarbones. Down further, until Vessel can feel a beating heart under his hand, all five fingers splaying over Denzel's chest. It struggles,  whimpering in terror as Vessel scratches at its skin so gently, like a lovers caress.
There's a wide grin on his face, sharp teeth bared so fully its nearly a snarl, all six eyes glowing a blood red through the holes of his mask. Golden tears of fury drip down and fall from his jaw, staining his teeth and lips. Behind him, a writhing mass of shadows looms overhead. The moon is brighter still, the bottom cast into darkness as Sleep awaits His next meal. When Vessel speaks, it is with many voices, his most prominent.
"I am the teeth of God, and you hurt what is mine."
He digs his nails in, shoving past skin and muscle, through the cracks in its ribs until at least one claw pierces a lung. A wet gurgle follows, a vine having grown over its mouth to muffle any unsavory sounds. Blood dribbles past the vines, leaves beginning to stain red as a cough splatters blood all over them.
Vessel pulls his hand out, shaking off as much blood as possible and takes a step back. Then, he waits.
Desperate pleas fall onto deaf ears as Vessel watches Denzel slowly suffocate almost the same as III did. This is far more satisfying. Denzel deserves this, Vessel knows he does.
There had been others.
When Denzel takes his final breath, Vessel does not do anything more than breath of sigh of relief.
It is done.
Vessel doesn't regret a single death at his hands, he only regrets what he will lose when he returns to the manor. He knows he would have regretted this, Before. He is not quite who he was Before. When his God intertwined their souls, He must have given Vessel some of His penchant for violence spurred on by possessiveness and protectiveness. The Wrath of a God at his fingertips.
Without warning, Vessel's skin splits, ribs splintering apart as his God's mouth manifests on his chest again. It is once more an awful agony, and Vessel cries, harsh breaths and pained whimpers falling from his pinched lips.
For a time, after his God has had His meal, Vessel simply kneels on the ground, panting with one hand clutching his chest. His side of the bond is a mess of emotions and he fears he will wake the others with it. He had taken great care to keep the bond as calm as possible this entire excursion, but he fears that now that it is done, his control will slip.
II and III remain asleep, safe at the manor and well away from Vessel. He isn't sure he wants to go back to the manor just yet. He is still so vulnerable, crumbling under the weight of what he has just done.
'Come, rest in my realm, my First. You've done well.'
'Should I not go back to the manor first?' Vessel asks, bone deep exhaustion laced in his tone.
'I wish to see you, I wish for you to see me. You have give me a beautiful offering today, I am much stronger than I have been in eons. I may yet be able to manifest some attempt at a visible form. Do not fret, you will find yourself at the manor when you next open your eyes. My realm will have been moved to somewhere else in this country, and the existences of the Third's murderers will beerased from all but the vessels minds.'
Vessel hums an agreement, eager to be with his God. To see his God. He looks up at the moon above him, and swears he sees many eyes, too many, blinking fondly at his still form.
Vessel closes his eyes, and when he opens them, he first sees a sea of red. Sitting up, there is an expanse of red trees as far as his six eyes can see. This place is familiar, and Vessel has often found himself here when his God has called upon him for lyrics or melodies.
Something approaches from behind a particularly large tree, shimmering gold and translucent.
Eyes, so many crimson eyes of varying sizes blink tenderly down at him, surrounded by pitch black sclera. They dot his cheekbones, his forehead, his temples. Thick, dark tendrils are pulled back into a long braid, many tendrils tied together to form the three main sections, exposing a long ear far more pointed than Vessel's own. His God's skin, though translucent and untouchable, wafts smoke like a shadow, darker than night, darker than anything Vessel has ever seen. Across that void of skin is little sprinkles of white, blinking and flowing over His bare shoulders like a moving galaxy of stars, ever changing. Few eyes of varying sizes, like His God's face, litter the skin of His arms, with an eye each on the back of His hands.
His teeth are bone white, rows of sharp points, mouth opened into something akin to a smile. Etched into the skin of his God's face, Sleep's symbol sits in the exact placement of Vessel's masks symbol.
Vessel averts his gaze quickly, remembering what His God had told him when they had first met.
A laugh sounds, and it is so familiar Vessel can feel his shoulders relaxing from their tense position.
The form glitches, magic wavering as Sleep moves closer. 'You can look upon me, my Vessel. You will only be able to see me in this form here, only when I can manage it. I am still so weak. It will be a long time before I can do more than this, but you have given this to me nonetheless.'
His God's many voices do not come from the smiling mouth, still heard, but from no clear place.
Vessel looks up, trusting his God. 'Come, my First. I would like to see your weapon up close. Then, I would like to hear some of your songs. It hasbeen some time since I have brought you to my realm. Now that the Third is settled, I think it is time I resume your visits.'
Vessel follows dutifully, eagerly, even, as His God leads him further into the bloody forest.
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polyklok · 1 year
Note
More Toki smut plz
C, H, N, O, Q, S, V
You got it!
C- Cum
As for the substance itself; a bit watery, average amount of it, and he’s a shooter (basing these off of some dumb internet charts I’ve found cause I don’t pay much attention to cum tbh)
Toki always comes inside, no questions asked. He says because coming anywhere else is either too messy or too degrading, but it’s really because he’s thinking about breeding you, let’s be honest. He’ll let out small, shaky sigh and then a loud groan, snaps his hips against yours to be as deep as possible, and fills you up with as much as he can manage. He stays there for a while, panting while he looks over your pretty face, muttering praise to you. If any spills after he pulls out, it’s getting fingered right back in.
H- Hair
I don’t think he’s ever shaved once in his life, it’s a bit of a jungle down there. If you want him to shave, he’s gonna try but he’s…gonna need your help. He tries to go for it but suddenly gets real scared once he realizes he has to put sharp objects near his silent flute. Make a day of it! Maybe shaving pubes will be your new favorite date activity (definitely not).
Honestly, Toki is down for whatever you want hair-wise for both you and him. Unless he somehow finds out that people can shave their pubes into hearts. Then he wants both of you to do it immediately!
N- NO
Any kind of hitting or spanking. Toki likes to get rough, but he draws the line at directly hitting you. It brings back too many bad memories and he always feels so bad about it. He also doesn’t like being hit, he’ll immediately start crying if you do that and will shut off from you for a long while. Absolutely not.
O- Oral
To him, oral is like an intense form of foreplay. He prefers to receive just a little more than giving.
When you go down on him, he prefers to sit while you do your business in between in thighs. He’ll let out the softest whimpers and moans, mumbling praise for you well you suck him off while a hand cards through your hair. It’s all very soft. Until he gets close, he’ll tug on your hair, fucking your face for a bit before holding down your face to come down your throat. He’ll reward you if you manage to swallow it all, too.
When giving, he completely supports your bottom half, placing your legs over his shoulders and holding onto your hips for dear life. He shoves his face as deep as he can against you, tongue-fucking you until your vision goes white. He isn’t satisfied until you’ve come at least twice for him.
Q- Quickie
He likes the idea of it, sneaking away to indulge in some quick pleasure. But he…can’t. Toki likes to take his time before the deed, and if he isn’t being slow from the get-go, he’s gonna wanna do a couple rounds just to drive in the point. If you have a quickie, he’s probably gonna be urging you for another one in 15 minutes. He’s also very obvious, with a big, dopey smile on his face so every one can tell what you guys just left the room to do.
S- Stamina
10/10, 100%, no competition.
He can go long, hard, and multiple times. You’re gonna have a hard time keeping up. He’s also fairly rough and does last a long time, so it’s usually kept to 1 or 2 rounds for your sake. He only needs a quick breather, water, and some soft comfort in between rounds before he’s ready to rev it up again. He’s so in shape, there’s really no worries in this department.
V- Volume
While he’s not super loud all the time, he makes a variety of noises and can’t hold any of them back for shit. If he’s moaning, he’s moaning, and everyone is gonna hear it. If he needs to be quiet, he’s gonna either bury his face against you or preoccupy his mouth with something else.
He whimpers, groans, grunts, moans, sighs, and dirty talks all for you. Sometimes he’ll slip into Norwegian, which is when it gets really intense. That’s his version of saying “Don’t stop.”
If anyone else wants to make a request, refer back to here
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ashipiko · 1 year
Text
hi SO UM. IM KINDA OBSESSED WITH DECO*27 AS OF LATE AND LIAR DANCE…. HAS ME IN ITS GRASP…. FUNNY THING IS. IT WORKS REALLY WELL WITH ASHI’S OB!!! SO YEAH. here’s a whole post dedicated to her OB
(dunno if this group exists but if anyone is like?? interested in Ashi lore/deep ashace lore I hope you enjoy 🫶🫶 they’re v deep i prom)
INCLUDES: art (you can see it!!!) and a long ashace lyric breakdown to liar dance 🫶
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HIGHLY RECOMMEND LISTENING TO RACHIE’S COVER OF THIS SONG WHILE READING! IT HELPS A LOT ESPEC IN THE END OF THIS BREAKDOWN
"I stole it?"
No, I don't know what you’re talking bout
You bluff away with this charade that I can't
Figure out
(“it” refers to a show, like “steal the show”. This is all from Ace’s point of view so he refuses to agree— He doesn’t like and doesn’t understand Ashi’s habit of putting up a front, hence why he dismisses it.)
My darling
You cross your heart and then you hope to
Die
So keep on lying to my face and see if I
Comply
(Ace going “OK BET keep slowly killing yourself and see if I stop trying to save you”. Spoiler, he doesn’t.)
"I stole it?
No, I don't know what you’re talking bout
You speak clichés and reap the praise of all the fools in doubt
My darling
Why can't you see that there's no fooling
Me?
Our love is much more of a mess than even you could be
(Again, same thing with the “steal the show” bit. Ace refers to everyone who falls for her front as a fool, and he insists that no matter what, he can’t be fooled. He’ll forever see Ashi for who she really is. Ace tries to convince her that all of the mess that they’re causing right now is way more of a mess than what she is.)
Blah, blah, blah, blah, do me a favor and
Shut up for now
You think you sound clever, but 'cause I
Know better, you sound just too loud
Try to escape and you'll see that you don't
Have a place left to hide
So speak of the devil, but know that you're
Summoning me to your side
(Ace wants her to shut up so that she can stop and be saved. He thinks that he’s the one with the superior mindset in this situation, and that Ashi should listen to what he’s saying, which is that no one will run away from her for who she really is.)
1,2... 1,2,3
Dance away, you li-i-iar
Your loving burns like fi-i-ire
Only you, only me, let's tear these vows to
Shreds
And let death do us pa-a-art
(Ace refers to Ashi as a liar— It’s what she sees herself as, and what Ace sees her as (a person lying to people with her front in order to please them), but Ace just believes that it’s a faulty way of living. Only you, only me, bit refers to their relationship and special connection. It can also be seen as an attempt to comfort Ashi as well, since she’s the most comfortable with Ace. Ace promises that he’ll forever stay by Ashi’s side, no matter what.)
Poison me, you li-i-iar
Our love is old and tired
So cover your nose and swallow me away
I’ll get into your veins
And then we’ll meet our end
(I interpret this line in a way that Ace persists and continues to go “I’m gonna keep knocking down your walls, no matter what” and he hopes to finally get to Ashi’s head. He does BTW! Eventually. In the future.)
"I stole it?"
No, I don't know what you’re talking 'bout
You bluff away with this charade that I can't
Figure out
It's hidden
It’s tucked away somewhere that's safe and
Sound
I hear you loud and clear, so baby, there's no
Need to shout
(Ace once again references this charade and front which Ashi uses, but the thing that’s hidden and tucked away is her true nature. There’s no hiding that from him— It’s no use to attempt to hide it.)
"You got me!
No wait, I've got no clue, what could you
Mean?
Caught you again today, again you slip away
From me
You're sinking
Digging your grave deeper and deeper down
For all your talk, I see you're nothing but a
Helpless clown
(Refers to Ashi’s slow descent into overblot! She slipped between Ace’s fingers and became distant, only to emerge as her jester, clown faced, blot. Ashi’s slow, lonely descent into madness is greatly shown through the grave line.)
Everyone and my own mother is starting to
Make fun of you
'Cause nothing about all the lies that you tell
Yourself seem to sound true
But in the end, you're the beautiful liar who's
Stolen my heart
You're just the devil, but I'm on your level
So drag me down now
(The first bit references the fact that after this is all over, everyone will know Ashi’s secret (which Ace finds a bit stupid) and that by the end of it, Ace believes that no one will really care. Everyone will accept her, and nothing will change, and that all of her doubts aren’t true. In the end, Ashi’s the one that stole Ace’s heart, and he’s willing to go through so much to save her.)
1,2... 1, 2,3
Dance with me, you li-i-ar
I'm gonna take us higher
Only you, only me, we're guilty as they come
And though our love is wro-o-ong
(Ace trying to convince Ashi that she’s not anything special— People will be empathetic towards her. He’s here with her too. The love is wrong line references the fact that Ashi thinks Ace is wrong for loving her true self.)
Now I've got you, Ii-i-ar
So look me in the ey-y-ye now
Hello, how are you?
Our punishment and crime
Will never go awa-a-ay
No, it's far too late
(Ace trying to catch Ashi’s attention and get through her blotted state. It’s too late to turn back now.)
Dance away, you li-i-iar
Your loving burns like fi-i-ire
Only you, only me, let's tear these vows to
Shreds
And let death do us pa-a-art
(Let’s change gears for these repeated lines. I’ll paint a picture for you. The way that Ashi’s overblot works is that she carries a marionette doll. The doll represents her front that she puts up, and how “that Ashi” would react to this situation. And so, through the entire fight it holds a concerned and scared expression. Ace notices this, and the scene changes.)
Poison me, you li-i-iar
Our love is old and tired
So cover your nose and swallow me away
I’ll get into your veins
Veins
(He figures it out, and everything clicks. Overblotted Ashi represents her true feelings— What she wants people to love, but everyone turns for the puppet version of her. If he’s going to save her, he has to be the most straightforward he can to get through to her blotted mind.)
Dance with me, you li-i-ar
I'm gonna take us higher
Only you, only me, we're guilty as they come
And though our love is wro-o-ong
(Ace uses all of his strength that he can muster after going at this fight for a while. to jump around Ashi as she proceeds to attack everyone around her. He moves swiftly, almost in a dancing motion— He needs to destroy the marionette. Destroying it proves the point; that he doesn’t need all of this fake stuff. He needs the real Ashi, and he’ll care for her.)
Now I've got you, Ii-i-ar
So look me in the ey-y-ye now
Hello, how are you?
Our punishment and crime
Will never go awa-a-ay
(Ace finally catches Ashi’s attention and is able to talk to her. Once again, he tries to get through her head. All of the memories and journeys they’ve been through will never fade away, and all the things that Ashi believes people will hate are things that Ace will love.)
No, it's far too late
All the things that I should hate
But the moon is in the sky
So guess
This is goodbye
(Ace is able to pry the doll from Ashi’s grasp as he gets her distracted. The goodbye is the final hit, as Ace smashes her marionette to pieces, and from there, her overblot is finished.)
NOTE: I used Rachie’s lyrics, but I know for a FACT there is a line that says “turn me inside out and I look just like you”. This line is really important too (so I’m sad it’s not included here), but I think it’s a really good one because Ace and Ashi are really similar when it comes down to it. Ashi’s so scared of showing it, but in the end Ace is there, to be by her side and be the absolute worst with her.
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simonalkenmayer · 1 year
Text
Do we need to go over the constitution? Of course we do. Here. Let’s do that. I’ll try to summarize swiftly. I’ll put the text in on the ones you ought to know the text of.
AMENDMENT I
“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”
In other words, the government cannot make any laws that inhibit your ideas, beliefs, faith, or right to disagree or seek compromise or apology. It doesn’t mean you have the right to do and say as you please and ripple are just supposed to put up with it. The government alone is prohibited from making or enforcing laws that inhibit your rights, and it can force others to comply with that hands off policy. This one is in hot debate right now courtesy of Musk, but the fact remains that he thinks “free speech” means he can be a jackass with complete impunity. Ravage business and world do not have to accept your opinion.
AMENDMENT II
“A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.”
As I’ve said before, this refers to the old practice of raising an army from the men of the colonies, because we had no standing army employed specifically to care about defense. That was later. Notice that in no way does the second amendment imply that you must have a gun to stand up to your government. In fact it says the government cannot deny redress. It also referred to Muskets. So unless you’re in the military, I see no reason why anyone can claim a right to carry an assault weapon.
AMENDMENT III
“No Soldier shall, in time of peace be quartered in any house, without the consent of the Owner, nor in time of war, but in a manner to be prescribed by law.”
This had to do with a common practice of the time, called quartering. When an army was raised, it was necessary to move them around and feed them. In the colonies, the British troops ran roughshod over that rule and just moved in with families, taxing people’s inclined by leeching off them. Even worse, they used this tactic to keep tabs on people and intimidate them, and that was what the founders wanted to avoid.
AMENDMENT IV
“The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.”
This means you are protected, because in order to search, sieze, or otherwise compromise your property, the government must use rules that protect you, or they lose that evidence. This was a way of hamstringing the government to keep it from harming citizens with overzealous prosecution or outright fascism.
AMENDMENT V
“No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service in time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.”
This amendment has 3 parts, first the presumption of innocence, and second the right to ignore questions if you feel they can either be used against you, or twisted to be used against you. Thirdly, that the government cannot seize your property without fair compensation.
First, the presumption of innocence cannot be minimized. You would know the other system, if you saw it. If you are accused of a crime here, the state has to prove you did it to a reasonable degree of certainty. The defense doesn’t have to argue any specific theory. It can just say “that is made up”. Flip it, and the entire state and all the officials see you as guilty if you can’t pony up the money to defend yourself or find evidence on your own. The difference is important.
Second point: the right to not incriminate oneself is there to protect you in all things. Remember that this is just after a time that torture was widely used to get people to admit to being witches (something these men did not believe in). To them, torture was near, and men having their families held as bargaining chips. This was there to prevent coercion.
Third point: No one can just move onto your land and take it without you agreeing and being compensated…I think it’s obvious why they might be a bit sensitive about that one eh?
AMENDMENT VI
“In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the State and district wherein the crime shall have been committed, which district shall have been previously ascertained by law, and to be informed of the nature and cause of the accusation; to be confronted with the witnesses against him; to have compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his favor, and to have the Assistance of Counsel for his defence.”
If your eyes just glazed over scanning that, my apologies. This is the amendment that sets up how trials must go in order that everyone has the right to a) be allowed to fight back, b) is not kept in prison for years with no defense, c) that juries are of peers, and so on and so forth
AMENDMENT VII
Has to do with which crimes are considered worthy of jury and how that jury would be selected
AMENDMENT VIII
“Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.”
Meaning the government cannot charge someone so much money that it puts you in debt. It has to give you reasonable punishments—not prison for life for steal bread.
AMENDMENT IX
“The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.”
In other words, no right can conflict with any other. No right can be used to take away another right.
AMENDMENT X
“The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.”
Anything that isn’t illegal needs to be decided by the people or their duly elected state representatives. If the feds haven’t, the states are allowed, until feds step in
AMENDMENT XI -
“The Judicial power of the United States shall not be construed to extend to any suit in law or equity, commenced or prosecuted against one of the United States by Citizens of another State, or by Citizens or Subjects of any Foreign State.”
We won’t disallow others to charge you with a crime, but we will do so based on our laws and diplomacy. You will essentially be protected by the US but subject to foreign law. See the case of Britney Griner, still held captive in accordance with Russian marijuana laws, being used as a political pawn by Putin
AMENDMENT XII -
This is just how the votes work for the electoral college.
AMENDMENT XIII -
“Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.”
No slaves except in prisons (we need to change this as it over-incentivized the justice system to funnel cheap labor into the market.)
AMENDMENT XIV -
Section 1.
How citizenship gets decided, and an edict that no state can make laws that deprive people of their human rights
Section 2.
Further proof they only counted men. But essentially this is how Congress and so forth is put together
Section 3.
You can’t represent the people if you’ve ever been convicted of abandoning an oath or post
Section 4.
We decide what we pay for and we aren’t paying any debts that have to do with us preserving our state from the crown
We reserve the right to make laws
AMENDMENT XV -
Everyone eligible cannot be stopped from voting, no discrimination based on race or previous status (slaves given right to vote)
AMENDMENT XVI -
Income tax
AMENDMENT XVII -
Senators are two per state, we decide them thus and these are the rules etc. state reps. Congress blah blah
AMENDMENT XVIII -
I won’t even dignify this one with anything other than “prohibition”, in other words, the government giving us organized crime
AMENDMENT XIX -
Suffrage for women!
AMENDMENT XX -
Establishes Election Day for executive branch and defines their term. When Congress assembles and for how long etc
AMENDMENT XXI -
Prohibition, The repeal.
AMENDMENT XXII -
Presidents only get two terms. Thank god we learned this with FDR and not Trump
AMENDMENT XXIII -
DC gets a representative
Further rules about how reps work
AMENDMENT XXIV -
No poll tax. Voting rights.
AMENDMENT XXV -
How the executive branch is organized
AMENDMENT XXVI -
Voting age is 18
AMENDMENT XXVII -
No law, varying the compensation for the services of the Senators and Representatives, shall take effect, until an election of representatives shall have intervened.
The reps meet to decide their salary. You can’t just decide not to pay senators.
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hyperfixingfr · 3 months
Text
Okay I was originally only gonna show Hoagie's design and then a piece from the zombie stages HOWEVER I want to show off my design for Abby
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Just like Hoagie, she kinda abandoned the earrings lol. In an apocalypse where your friends have died before your very eyes you really don't need to be concerned about EARRINGS so any person in Sector V who wore earrings (so... Everyone but Nigel) ended up ditching them. To replace the earring colors to still keep that yellow integrated into the design, I gave her a yellow hair tie. Yes, that's the best I could come up with. I want the amount of yellow to be there but not very prominent just like in canon
If anyone guesses the death toll/missing toll within Sector V for the middle of the time period of the AU before I release the references I'll give you a virtual thumbs up or something lmfao. I want to make a fanfiction on this (as I've already planned entire lore and an ending to this AU) however the references will be captured within the middle of the story instead of the beginning, when there's already missing/dead key characters. Every main or key side character within the KND escapes the *start* of the apocalypse alive (ex: Sector V, Numbuh 362, Numbuh 86, Numbuh 10, and so on). But a lot end up dying and a few faces end up disappearing without a trace around the middle of the plot at various times, for reasons mostly to do with... The damn apocalypse out their window?? What else?
By the AU's end, there will be no character without severe injuries related to the apocalypse. And a LOT dead. Your favorite operative is more likely to have died the painful death that being infected causes rather than to have survived. As said previously: brace yourselves...
As for the reason to the apocalypse? Father. Pretty explanatory. He got tired of chasing kids, so he snuck into a KND event and infected himself (yes, he's patient zero...). Yes, this means he inevitably died early on due to the fact that the infected last for a mere 5 minutes to, at maximum, 1 day after being infected due to the symptoms. But not before infecting multiple other operatives of course... Similar to one of the episodes, this has to do with his DNA being in the system. It only severely infects/kills KND operatives. Thus, takes place before that episode. It does infect adults, though. Father got so fed up that he not only decided to kill off the entire KND, but also make adults incapable of reproduction. They are considered infected, and it can be spread by touching other adults or even kids (which will lead to death of the kid) however they don't experience any symptoms aside from complete infertility. KND operatives from all the way across the world were immediately informed when the discovery of adult infection was made and swiftly took in hundreds of captive unaffected adults and supplies for them and basically locked them away. So no, the existence and creation of kids wouldn't come to an end - but they're sure as hell gonna need to find out how to cure infertility cuz a few hundred adults only being able to reproduce isn't gonna end well LMFAO
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duskterrace · 5 months
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local ghost spotted posting intro five days late, anomaly muns claim. many express shock over ghost's sudden appearance. ✩ ( let's pretend this is introduction is actually on time and i wasn't panicked about how little i had ready lmao)
sorry for the super late introduction guys and thank you admins for being so understanding with me and my sweet summer child ! hi everyone ! ✩ im ghost ( they/them, 21+, est ) sleepy and back from the afterlife to offer up seo jinsol, your local 23 year old disaster astronomy major with the ability to manipulate the presence of yin and yang within themselves ! i've been so excited for this rp, and i honestly cant wait to start plotting with everyone. everything you could possibly need on jinsol is below, along with some headcanons and wanted plots! my discords available for anyone who needs it ( and pls need it tumblrs ims will be the death of me ). pls send a dm or leave a like if you'd like to plot so i can race over and gush over your muse(s) !
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ㅤ STATS   |  ABILITY   | BIO (U/C)   |  PLOTS | PINTEREST  | PLAYLIST
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✩ BASIC INFORMATION.
name seo jinsol  ╱ age twenty3 ╱ pronouns he/they/she ╱ gender possibly ╱ birthday december 13, 1999 ╱ birthchart sagittarius sun aquarius moon leo rising ╱ hometown hongdae, seoul ╱ orientation bisexual, androsexual lean  ╱ personality outgoing, playful, confident, thrill-seeking, sarcastic, impulsive, stubborn, hot-tempered, curious ╱ faceclaim choi san ( ateez ) & hwang yeji ( itzy ) ╱ character inspo post ponytail zuko & sokka ( atla ), jordan li ( gen v ), beast boy & starfire ( dc titans )
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✩ HEADCANONS. tw: far too many avatar the last airbender references.
raised with manners, so they're very respectful. especially of their elders and women. they don't eat first when elders are present, they offer assistance with tasks ( normally being the first to jump to help someone ), they tend to offer to listen to someones worries, etc.
since their power is based on internal balance an yin and yang, they can be found doing a lot of activities around campus to clear their mind from time to time. ranging from yoga in the morning, to sketching, jogging, endurance workouts, forcing themself to relax, and burning incense. think uncle iroh but as a modern day, 23 year old college student. when their energy ( chi ) isn't balanced, they experience disharmony, a very tiring process that causes the typical results of disharmony except ... personified. so gender switching to female, being depressed, stressed and anxious with tummy issues ( normal hot girl sh*t imo ) all at the same time and against their will etc.
contrary to how i explain them, they are not as calm, collected nor as wise as uncle iroh. they more so have the personality of zuko, around when he started being hot and also sokka. so sarcastic, awkward, still a hot head, playfully, clumsy, and always cracking a joke or two. the vibes of a beloved leader that probably shouldn’t be leading.
they're wanderlust coded. i have this weird headcanon of them, where its a day off and they just turn off their phone at night and go for a walk in the city and just exist, looking at the city lights, sitting and looking at the river, grabbing ice cream even though its cold out side and then eventually heading back to the dorms as if they didn't just disappear for a few hours without a word. they definitely do this often too, while eating some cheap buy buy one get one snack they bought at the a convenience store.
despite how they may act sometimes, they love skinship; on that note, physical touch & quality time are their love languages.
silly but their side of the dorm follows the rules of feng shui and they’d probably playfully nag their roommate ( or any friend really ) to let them just to rearrange one of their things so their stuff fits in the room a little better.
following the ( TW ) death of their grandmother, they fell into the deepest depression and stopped wearing the patch for a while, ( no longer than a month ). the extremely negative emotions they faced kept them female the entire time, but soon enough they caught feelings for someone. feeling happier, they started the went back on the patch again. in the crudest tldr; they got their heart broken pretty badly. they decided to go off of the nullivi patch one last time after falling head over heels for a normal person. the showed them their ability, and just to be completely truthful about who they were, they shifted. it backfired pretty quickly and they were shunned, shamed and rejected. this is one incident they still struggle with letting go, and it currently affects how they view / form relationships.
they don't hate nullivi but they don't like it either. it messes with their internal balance which can make it tough to use their powers later and requires a pretty strict regimen when off of nullivi to balance their energies again.
They actively seek connections. They’d give anything to connect and have someone understand them, deeply and intrinsically without feeling like they’re being judged for who they are. They want to be able to open up and have someone see them for them; for whats really the inside and not just whats the outside, no matter what form they may take.
* more coming soon, only one braincell is on shift tonight .
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✩ WANTEDPLOTS. *more plots en route.
CRUSH : it starts with those shy glances across the room and before they know it , all of a sudden all of the songs they listen to were about your muse. for some reason, your muse has caught jinsol's eye. your muse gives them butterflies, hope even, but they don't call it a crush for nothing. ( possible routes: unrequited & requited ) SPRING FLING : what you had was quick and fun, and meaningless. in the end, there was a clear agreement from both sides that it was no strings attached, hence a clean break was expected. so why does it feel weird watching you walk by them without a word? and why does it sting to see you with someone else? THE DREADED GROUP PROJECT : lets be real, no one in this group ever really liked each other. Since the start of the semester they've kept a pretty good distance from each other, but despite their best efforts, this year they share a class and even worse they've been partnered together for a group project. their final grade is literally dependent on them working together and fast. will they do suck it up long enough to pass ? ( 0 / 2 ) A RIVAL : no need for formalities here. this is someone they just can't seem to see eye to eye with. your muse is someone who sees their presence as a threat and/or vice versa. it could be a friendly rivalry, or a genuine grudge filled feud. whatever it is, bring on the angst ! ( * would be great for rival muses in other rally houses )  TRAINER:  someone they can honestly throw down with. as a member of samjoko, they're constantly trying to find new ways to use their abilities to their advantage. whether its through regular hand to hand combat or testing the limits of their powers, they crave the power to propel samjoko's reputation further and feel like its their sole responsibility to harness said power. EX: a recent ex that broke them / or / the person they broke . the first person they sorta came out to about everything. their playlist has to be full of sad-ish songs for a reason right? this person is the reason, the reason for their glow up in public, and glow down in private. the break up could've been they're fault, could've been the other persons. all they know is... they hate that they still think about your muse as often as they do.  OTHERS : fellow members of samjoko, other residents in blue dorm, the usual fwb/ewb, enemies, childhood friend, friend groups, acquaintances, roommate etc connections. maybe people in the same major/classes, or another club of some kind?
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤDo you wish to make a connection?        ▶︎ YES.ㅤㅤㅤ NO.
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avemstella · 6 months
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so that archon quest, huh. Would be absolutely thrilled to hear what u have to say about fontaine act V :] i love all your takes on furina & neuvillette & fontaine as a whole, and of course childe [pretty much an honorary fontanian with how he unintentionally got wrapped up in everything whoops]
Oh boy, I have so many thoughts. To start with some non-spoilerly stuff: I loved it so much. I'm not sure if I'll say it's my favorite Archon Quest yet (I think I would have to go through some of the older ones), but I think it's safe to say Fontaine overall as an arc is my favorite. Even its weakest part (the prison stuff, tbh it was a pacing issue) was still really solid and the ending, while not perfect, really landed. Genshin continued the trend from Sumeru of having the playable characters really take the stage and god there were some great standouts (Navia/Neuvi/Furina to name my favs, but I also loved my fatui and there really isn't anyone I've disliked). And well, the quest (and Furina's chara quest) made me cry like a baby, so that's a win.
Tbh, I think my biggest issue, wasn't even really an issue with the story but just a case of I had a very clear idea of what I wanted out of it (the woes of writing speculative fic pfft) and when it wasn't that I'm like "awww darn". Thats on me, and I genuinely really loved what we got, but it do be like that sometimes haha.
Spoilers below, oh boy (also my Furina fic spoilers too lol).
Eldritch abomination Furina I'll mourn u forever. I can't complain because Furina splitting herself in two to go fuck u to the heavens is such a boss ass move I can't haha. Okay, but I will say, even if I'm probably the only one, I do wish they brought some Remuria stuff up in the main quest. They had the perfect set up with Ajax being there with his Greek myth references and just ahhhh, one can hope they do something with it later. But yes, just know it's my silly headcanon that Focalors just lied about being an Oceanid to Neuvi and is one of King Remus's fucked up Primordial Sea experiments that maybe caused the Abyss rift at the fall of Remuria.
But yes, Furina, Furina, I'm crying. She really destroyed the girl failure accusations in the most glorious way possible. She literally didn't fail once (either of her), she plotted out a plan to trick the heavens, give back what was stolen, and save her people and she did it perfectly. As you're probably well aware, I'm a big fuck u Celestia gal, so it was just so satisfying to see her just obliterate the throne (even when I was crying haha). And honestly, super relevant to the state of the real world, but her giving back sovereignty to Neuvi in my mind is a very clear decolonization metaphor. Ages past descenders came to Teyvat, killed the dragons and created their own order, and now Focalors is returning that power back to said dragon (or well, the dragon's heir, it's a bit vague if Neuvi's literally the old dragon's soul reincarnated or just the body).
The entire scene between Neuvi and Focalors was great, though I will admit I have one issue with it (and even then I go back and forth on it haha). Neuvi in that scene doesn't have a big attachment to Focalors. What I mean is that ultimately Neuvi only ever knew Furina (which side note I'll get into this next, but I do view them as the same person, but still), and with Focalors' 'death' he's not technically losing anything, the person he's sad over will still be there. Like don't get me wrong, he's very empathetic and can be sad over this person who is dying for them, but I feel like it could have been even more heartbreaking if he had met Furina/Focalors before the split, or he had interacted with Focalors somehow in the past, and so in this moment he wasn't just watching Furina's sacrifice, but the sacrifice of someone he shares memories with. But that's me being picky haha and not really a critique on the writing.
But yes, Furina! Focalors! As I previewed before, I'm going to come out swinging with a possibly hot take. They are, and always were the same person. Yes, Focalors is the divinity, but as we see after Furina is allowed to rest her persona, Furina is also super mature and knowledgeable. In Neuvi's flashback quotes of Furina, it's her softly giving important advice about living with humanity, which is what Focalors was all about. And much like Furina, Focalors loves preforming, she loves humans, she gets all excited about Furina and her future, and is sad she won't get to experience it.
Not to remotely downplay Furina's suffering (because holy shit my poor girl), but Focalors too played her role. Unlike Furina who had Neuvillette and all her friends post this, Focalors was all alone in the Oratrice, waiting for the day she had to kill herself. Furina, has the promise of a future, despite all the suffering she endured to get there. She gets the reward of a happy life as a human surrounded by people who love her, and while it was touch a go for a bit, she was told one day her play would end. In contrast, while Focalors didn't have the same anxiety that Furina had, Focalors knew from the beginning she would never get to see her people saved. Technically she, like Furina, didn't even know if it would even happen. She put her faith in Neuvillette to follow through, and while she had the utmost faith in him, she could never know for certain. But much like her mirror Furina, Focalors weighed her suffering over the people of Fontaine's, and never once faltered. Furina was willing to possibly kill herself via primordial seawater in order to keep up her ruse, whose to say Focalors wasn't the same. Smiling at Neuvillette until the last moment because she couldn't risk him interfering, hiding away her anxieties and sorrow, so he wouldn't look so sad. Furina's performance ended, Focalors' never will.
Focalors was so certain she couldn't be human, but as we see from the Oceanids it was totally possible. And even more vitally, we see from the other Archons it's possible. They might fumble around a bit (some more than others, looking at u Ei), but they are learning and immersing themselves with their people. While not an Archon, it's the same with Neuvillette. Focalors should have had the same opportunities as Furina and the rest (mostly because she is Furina), but the world isn't kind, and that's why her sacrifice hurts.
If u can't tell I have a lot of feelings about Focalors/Furina and while I can appreciate a joke about Focalors giving Furina anxiety, I'm also like, they are literally the same person working together, she deserves the world (all of her).
But yes, I can go on and on about Furina, but for now I'll move onto our boy Childe. To get it out of the way, a little disappointed that we really got no answers about him. Poor guy didn't really have any lines. Also, not big on Skirk's design, mostly the outfit. Putting her next to Dain and uh, yeah (like don't get me wrong don't mind the color scheme and all, but could she not have gotten some kind of armor. Or look more like Foul Legacy or something idk).
But onto more happier notes, I'm so happy to see Childe finally getting to do well in a fight. I know it's a meme for him to get beaten up, but my dude is the Vanguard, let him win sometimes (he doesn't technically win here, but he was fighting an eldritch whale monster for ages and helped save Fontaine, I'm giving it to him). And Skirk, while her design is mostly less to be desired, I'm winning on guessing her hair and eye color haha. Also, while I'll always love my version, I'm liking her personality so far. Her yeeting Childe, while I admit took me out a bit (I thought she threw him farther into the Abyss and was like, "uh guys, yall worried about my poor boy here???" and then was a bit baffled at them saying he was fine) was so fucking funny. It's cool to learn "Foul Legacy" refers to a literal person, and I found the fact that Skirk's relationship with Foul is basically the same as her relationship with Childe very amusing. And it seems she's Khaenri'ahn, maybe? Also, I thought she was listing off her master's other names at first, so when she said Gold I got super hyped that I guessed correctly about the narwhal being Rhine's in my fic, but then they were like nope pfft. I'll take it as a win.
Sidenote, Alice and Rhine where are yoooouuuuuu.
Ultimately, while I enjoyed the Childe and Skirk stuff, it really just feels like a set-up for later stuff. Which isn't really a problem, but I was hoping we'd get something a bit more concrete. Like, I thought we were going to get answers about the "it" that Skirk saw in him, and it would have to do with the Narwhal, but now it seems those were mostly unrelated??? While I did find baby Ajax accidentally waking up a big world eating monster up kind of hilarious, it did feel a little incidental, if that makes any sense. Like, Fontaine's doom was an accident and not the result of anyone's choices. But that might just be a me thing. (and the quest needed more Arle, where was she??? my not really based on anything theory is that whenever we get Furina (or maybe Nevui's) 2nd character quest, Arle will be the boss fight. A reverse of the normal final Harb boss fight during the Archon quest)
Okay, because I really don't want to end on a downer (as I said uptop, I genuinely adored this quest haha), here are some minor spoilers from the Narzissenkreuz Ordo quest that have me by a chokehold.
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I wasn't ready for a sudden Ajax. What does this mean??????
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And this one just makes me laugh. Whichever Ordo member wrote this, I vehemently disagree with u and am on Khaenri'ah's side with this one. I'd much rather have bread then some higher power nonsense. In my fic I tend to write Khaenri'ah more akin to a modern nation than a fantasy one, and its nice to see me vindicated pfft.
Other random notes, enjoyed that the Fatui weren't just cartoonishly evil in both the main and world quests. I like some nuance. I saw that Sandrone hint, that was fun. Though it makes me wonder when we'll get Columbina lore (especially because if the theory about Harbinger boss fight order based on the Constellation circle is true, she should be showing up soon. Though also I half think that order will break because if it doesn't, it means Sandrone will probably be the final Harb boss which is an odd choice.) As revealed on Furina's weapon, Egeria being around during Remuria raises so many questions around the timeline of events. Genshin pls tell me when the Archon war takes place in all this pls (if they tell us in some lore I haven't read yet, whoops). (also on egeria, I mourn my version but hey, she exists in my heart and in my fics pfft. I can't wait to write her in smfwtwd and venti fic, though she's getting a new name for confusion and better symbolsism)
the contrast between Neuvi and Furina after the quest is so funny and sad. Neuvi "Furina is the best, I want her to be happy". Furina, "Every hates me Neuvillette most of all, I can never face him again." And the other Archons, they are all like Furina, wow u are so cool (which just highlights Neuvi's utter disdain for them other than Nahida haha).
And most vitally, Furina and Venti should be best friends. Musically inclined performers who definitely aren't plotting to overthrow the heavens. I think they are neat (they also both have Latin names!).
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