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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 27 days

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if dorian didn't show up, do you think louis would have shot minnie?

I do. I know some people think either he wouldn't have or he would've missed so that's why the writers had him shoot Dorian instead, but mmmmmm no, I don't personally think so. I like to think that if he had taken the shot, his shaky hands would've caused him to shoot her fatally.

Mostly because I'm already so normal about the fact that of the Ericson crew, Marlon and Louis are the only ones with a body count. Well, that we know of, but shown to us in the game, at least. Plus, we know it's Louis' first kill.

Like yeah, Clementine and AJ become part of the crew and they have bigger body counts, and if we're counting indirect kills caused by actions, then Tenn has a count... and I guess everyone has blood on their hands for blowing up the boat... but I'm talking about killed directly with a weapon like....... I lied, I'm not normal about that at all, Louis and Marlon are the ones who have killed someone in Louis' route. I'm also not normal about the fact that Louis kills Dorian and then even as he's clearly in shock, he tries to go with Clementine to get AJ, and then later on when they talk about it, he says it feels like bile but not quite and he's glad he has it in him to do it.... listen, listen, listen... I'm obsessed with that.

Anyway, so if Louis shot Minerva, I think he would've accidentally killed her and can you imagine? He's already enough of a mess after killing the woman who pinned him down and tried to cut his finger off [or succeeded] but he knew Minerva, they were friends before the twins were taken. Even Violet couldn't kill her even though that would've been the smarter thing to do, and we know thanks to meta knowledge that killing her would've saved lives, but Violet couldn't, and I don't think Louis would intentionally either.

Speaking of Violet, if Louis killed Minerva, I hate to think about what that would've done to Vi. I think she might've actually left at that point, like what was planned before it got changed to her being burned. I don't think she would've attacked Louis over it, though, like yeah she attacked Clementine in the cell but Louis? I don't know, but I don't think so just because it's Louis and he'd be a mess about it anyway.

Though if he did kill her, it would be a neat parallel to draw... y'know, because Louis forgave AJ for killing Marlon even though he was pissed and heartbroken, and Violet was annoyed with him the entire time... but could she ever forgive Louis for killing Minerva? Y'know? We already have a similar parallel with AJ shooting Tenn, but still.

If Clementine killed Minerva in that moment, though, then I could see Violet attacking her since in her eyes, Clem proved her right.

So yeah, I get why they added the Dorian kill to his route. It adds another compelling element to Louis as a character, but we also need Minerva alive for episode 4; Louis can't kill her, he can't miss, and he's not going to stay with her because we need Violet to stay on the boat and him to be on shore for all routes.

#asks #twdg louis #twdg minerva #twdg clementine #twdg violet #twdg marlon #twdg tenn #honestly whenever i see someone say louis is the boring option i'm just like '.......that's your opinion but also how can you say that??'#then again i'm sure other people look at me saying violentine just isn't for me and they say the same thing so y'know... i can't talk haha #also time is such a weird thing because i look at the entire cell scene in louis' route and like... i'm not even mad about violet anymore #like yeah i still don't believe she was brainwashed like i'm sorry y'all only believe that because kent said something about it #not because there's all this evidence toward it in game like vi being pissed at clementine makes sense she doesn't need to be brainwashed #for it to work like her being vulnerable and easily manipulated into submission makes perfect sense especially with minerva there #it's like everyone was pissed that she attacked clementine and people needed a way to excuse it so it's not violet's fault when like...#that's literally what makes it interesting like calm down it's okay if violet is pissed and scared and behaves accordingly #also my controversial opinion of the day that i'll hide here in the tags so maybe people won't find it sksksk but #I personally find the concept of vinerva and the doomed tragedy of it more compelling than anything violentine did #like i'll defend violentine and i do believe it's an important and good ship it's just not my personal favorite #anyway but then the whole thing with lilly and minerva is so good and louis screaming FUCK YOU at minerva?? amazing love it so good #i love when the soft character who never chooses violence is so pissed off that all that anger they have boils to the surface and it's raw #like... he's SO mad he's SO furious he's SOOO UPSET like he wasn't even like this when marlon died or anything like he hit his limit #and then shooting dorian through the mouth while an accident is just well done i love it and i love his reaction of mortification #and apologizing and YET he still tries to go with clementine he's trembling and can barely string together a sentence but he wants to go #he wants to help her he wants to save aj THAT is the gut reaction he has after everything that just went down #'louis isn't loyal or good for clem because of the vote' babe tell me you don't understand any nuance of louis' character without telling m #it's fine IT'S FINE you don't have to agree and i just have to remind myself that it's fine not everyone likes louis we're okay #this drives me crazy in the best way like y'know what? i love the cells scene in louis' route all of it even the stuff i used to rant about #even the stuff that used to piss me off now i'm just like 'no wait past cj was dumb she wasn't looking at it this way aaaaaaaa' sksksks #that was my tag ted talk about the cell scene thank you

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mr-independent · 11 months

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you know, its not brought up in fics often but ted is extremely well read. he doesnt brag about it, but hes read everything from f scott fitzgerald's b sides to ayn rand's doorstoppers to the sixteen book Ender series, etc etc etc. Ted reads about as much as we see Beard reading (which. in my head is a trait that was passed on, a new focus to sharpen the mind and keep him out of trouble and his mind off drugs, something Ted offered up as a coping mechanism for when his own dad died, a way to have fun and adventure and escape without ending up in jail like Ted himself had a handful of times before, scaring the bejeezus out of his ma.)

this turned into a mini fic and i lost my train of thought but point is, Ted reads So Much and more people need to pick up on this in fics please and thank you.

#ted lasso #hes got an artistic soul!#but also anyone whos fav book is the fountainhead must be both well read and stubborn as a bull #its a slog and thats coming from someone whos read both infinite jest and les mis #im getting through it slowly but surely. mostly to stretch my story endurance before jumping into atlas shrugged #also. yes i know we have no evidence that he read all 16 ender books #but having had read them myself i know in my heart of hearts that ted absolutely finished every one of them with gusto #probably on the bus to and from games with his team back in the US #no wait hold on. he was a backup punter right? that means LOTS of time sitting on the sidelines waiting for a whole bunch of nothing #lots of time was spent watching the plays and the team and formulating im sure (which is also probably why he trusts nate so much in the #beginning. bc that used to be him sitting on the sidelines taking it all in) but also theres long stretches of no play in american football #during which he probably read like a demon to keep his grades up and keep his scholarship #so that this ma never had to worry about him away at school. He wasnt going to get into trouble anymore not like he did in high school #he had to be the man of the house and gosh darn it was he going to do it with gusto #which meant good grades and learning about life and people and spending all that free time the right way #therefore: books. an easy habit that keeps him out of trouble and keeps his mama proud. plus itd be easy to hide from coaches under his pad #if they ever had a problem with it (which im sure they would at first but once he proved he was paying attention and wormed his way in #with the team even as a reserve well. they were less eagle-eyed after that concerning the paperback-shaped lumps under his jersey)#anyway have another mini fic i guess lol #im feeling a tad verbose today

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sammygender · 8 months

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if zuko isn’t meant to be gay then why do they write him. like that

#like am i being delusional??!??? he’s literally not written as attracted to women?!?!?!?? why do they make such a point of it #every time he’s w a girl it’s meant to symbolise him hiding smth abt himself or he’s just REALLY bad at it #that scene where he’s w mai and then right after he goes and talks to uncle iroh like I feel like i’m caught between what i’m meant to be #and who i am (or something)#that joke scene before that in ba sing se where some girl likes him and he keeps running away and avoiding her kissing him and finally lets #her and then gets annoyed and runs off halfway through #the whole beach ep where he shows little romantic interest in mai (i believe he cares abt her as a friend but) like the only time he shows #anything romantic is getting obsessed w this other guy and suddenly rly possessive of her. help #it’s slightly less evident now i feel like they’re maybe writing him as into girls #but for a while i was like. I truly don’t understand why he’s written like this if he’s meant to be a straight boy #also i have not finished atla so no spoilers #atla #zuko atla #it was 2005 so like DID they?!?!? but they didn’t want to canonise it?!?! but i’m sure i’d have heard that before and i haven’t #oliver talks

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hella1975 · 1 year

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there may be an influx of ethel cain mutuals atm and im even willing to share the podium but i will ALWAYS be the strangers mutual. stay humble

#BUT GOD IS TELLING YOU AND I THAT THERE IS DEATH FOR ALL OF US #IN YOUR BASEMENT I GROW COLD THINKING BACK TO IT I WAS ALWAYS TOLD DONT TALK TO STRANGERS OR YOU MIGHT FALL IN LOVE #FREEZER BRIDE YOUR SWEET DIVINE YOU DEVOUR LIKE SMOKED BOVINE HIDE HOW FUNNY I NEVER CONSIDERED MYSELF TOUGH #YOURE SO HANDSOME WALKING OVER TO ME NOW I TRIED TO BE GOOD AM I NO GOOD AM I NO GOOD AM I NO GOOD #WITH MY MEMORY RESTRICYED TO A POLAROID IN EVIDENCE I JUST WANTED TO BE YOURS CAN I BE YOURS CAN I BE YOURS JUST TELL ME IM YOURS #IF IM TURNING IN UOUR STOMACH AND IM MAKING YOU GEEL SICK #WHEN MY MOTHER SEES ME ON YHE SIDE OF A MILK CARTON IN WINN-DIXIE’S DAIRY ISLE SHE’LL CRY AND WAIT UP FOR ME #WE’LL MAKE LOVE IN YOUR ATTIC ALL NIGHT EUPHORIC IN SOME STRANGE DELIGHT IM HAPPIER HERE CAUSE HE TOLD ME I SHOULD BE OH #YOUR SO HANDSOME WHEN IM ALL OVER YOUR MOUTH WHEN IM ALL OVER YOUR MOUTH WHEN KM ALL OVER YOU MOUTH I TRIED FO BE GOOD #AM I NO GOOD AM I NO GOOD AM I NO GOOD WITH MY MEMORY RESTRICTED TO A POLAROID IN EVIDENCE #I JUST WANTED TO BE YOURS CAN I BE YOURS CAN I BE YOURS CAN I BE YOURS IFNIM TURNING IN YOUR STOMACH AND IM MAKING YOU FEEL SICK #AM I MAKING YOU FEEL SICK??????? AM I MAKING YOU FEEL SICK??#AAAAAAHSHSHAGAFFGQGQUUAHABSBSNJASHDJCNCJSKAIAJABBSBDBNDJEJAMQLWOOSKZNANBABDHIAJQBBANAAKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #FOUND YOU JUST TO TELL YOU THAT I MADE IT REAL FAR AND THAT I NEVER BLAMED YOU FOR LOVING ME THE WAY THAT YOU DID WHEN YOU WERE TORN APART #I WOULD STILL WAIT WITH YOU THERE DONT THINK ABOUT JT TOO HARD OR YOULL NEVER SLEEP A WINK AT NIGHT AGAIN #DONT WORRY ABOUT ME AND THESE GREEN EYES MAMA JUST KNOW THAT I LOVE YOU I DO AND ILL SEE YOU WHEN YOU GET HERE #ethel cain

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kandibatz · 1 year

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had a dream where for some reason bob was moth themed instead of devil themed and somehow it was so so much more terrifying esp in the context of the dream

#LIKE THE LOGIC OF THE DREAM WAS CUZ HE WAS MOTH THEMED HE WOULD BE LIKE. ATTRACTED TO LIGHTS SO WHEN WE WERE RUNNING AND HIDING WE HAD TO #WE HAD TO DO THAT IN PITCH BLACK SO WE COULD HEAR HIM COMING BUT WE COULDNT SEE HIM AND WE HAD TO BE SOSO FUCKING QUIET #other random details of the dream i remember was i was with a group of people and we were trying to gather evidence to get bob arrested #cuz i guess he hadnt gotten caught before yet?#i dont know why cuz we were just a bunch of random ppl that jobs for the 2 goddamn cops in the entire town we didnt have to risk shit #but we did anyways i remember near the end of the dream we did find some hard evidence so its just some losers like OHHHH SHIT!!!!!#but then we heard bob coming and we were in a place with ZERO hiding spots but we had to try hiding anyways #and my best attempt was just pulling some random fcking blanket over me like u do when ur a lil baby as if that gonna stop The Killer 😭#it stressed dream me out so bad that i just woke up n i was liek ouGh

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beanmochiii · 2 years

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omari au but also everyone lives

#think abt this au a lot #what happens is mari pushes sunny instead of sunny pushing her #and for a second mari consideres hiding the evidance but is like wait no i need to call for help. this is my little brother #she considers hiding him btw cuz she is obsessed with keeping the idea that she is perfect alive #basil still sees the whole thing but because this is perfect mari doing something wrong hes too scared to go into the room #and he goes to hero and is like i think something happened in sunny and maris house i think they need help #hero goes and calls the ambulence #mari lies and says that sunny tripped #sunny lives but is in a coma #later when hero is updating everyone on the sitch basil hears the lie #and decides to comfront mari #she freaks out when she finds out he knows and half threatens basil to not tell anyone #basil is rlly freaked out cuz he barely knows wtf is going on #eventually basil tells either hero or aubrey in a breakdown that ‘shes lying why is she lying?! why did she yell at me?? how dare she take #sunny from us #n thats all i got so far #hoping to draw more of this au too #omari au #tw blood #omori #omori mari #omori hero #omori sunny #my art #omori spoilers #forgot to tag that…. does it even apply… idk

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kaus-quietis · 2 years

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They are (BSD Fyodor x reader)

More precisely, Philosopher!Fyodor x Translator!Reader for @chuuyasboots beautiful BSD event, Renewing the Renaissance. Check out the full list of the event’s fics here!

Genre: I can’t believe it myself, but it’s fluff. Completely SFW.

Night fell into dawn’s embrace, in vivid red and purple play. Steady steps were on their way, up a hill covered in dew. Each droplet rejoiced in a frail man’s gaze, one that was trained to inspect even the simplest of things, the most mundane, and use them as steps on a ladder to the heavens. Like so many times before, such close inspection of nature was an elating activity for the philosopher approaching Y/N’s house on the hill. Each transparent drop of cold fresh water on wood and flowers and fallen leaves pointed his mind towards the universal ideas that weaved this world together: the same ones that also weaved them, the two, together. At the idea of the grand Author who made him and Y/N meet, the now hurrying philosopher only smirked, feeling he was all too familiar with Him, the object of his research for so many Parisian years. But Fyodor brushed this thought aside, focusing on the upward road he knew so well, the one that each season, again and again, guided him through Tuscany to –

“Columba mea.”

Subtly, silently, the philosopher entered Y/N’s house, only his greeting – recalling the Song of Songs [1] – letting their hard-working lover know he arrived. Through the smell of oak wood, the light reflected on parchment, the rustling of dried flowers, the silence of black ink, Y/N’s voice responded, completing him as always:

“Dilectus meus.”

The philosopher approached their writing desk, hiding the precious things he carried not only under his thick black cloak, but also inside his white robe. Admiring all the manuscripts lying open around Y/N, he deduced they were in the middle of translating another work of Greek origin, comparing all the copies they could find, analyzing all their unique variations in words and writing, everything in search for the original intended meaning. Y/N did not even lift their eyes soaked in concepts to meet their visitor’s unperturbed ones, hiding his eagerness perfectly behind their burning amethyst colour. Still, Y/N could not help but spot his unusual attire.

“Such blasphemy. A Cistercian disguised as a Dominican? But why?” Y/N laughed and wondered what his schemes were the night before.

“Oh, I would never… I side with the seculars.” [2]

“Surely you do. You side with your own self –”

“– and I side with you.”

Y/N stopped their work for a while, knowing what came next, and welcoming the rite with a smile. At first, they felt their lover’s palm embracing one side of their head in caress. The other side soon followed to know his kiss, lingering as if on the very mind he cherished so. As Y/N let their head gradually fall towards him, their smile widened as they made a mental bet right there and then. What followed did not even disturb the suavity of the moment, it only proved Y/N right on their bet:

“You misspelled cruoris on the left column, fourth row.” [3]

Parting with the warmth of his chest Y/N sunk into, the copyist sighed, moving the sharp knife they were holding from one hand into the other, switching places with their quill pen. They slowly scraped a bit of the ink away from the parchment and changed the abbreviated form of the noun. Y/N fixed the mistake, grateful that their annoyingly perceptive “partner-in-crime” spotted the minuscule “butchered” word on time. At last, they lifted their tired eyes to meet his, desiring to gift him sincerity. “I am proud to have you” was the message their gaze carried, but as quick as it reached the philosopher’s mind – and oh, how quickly he was catching on all the time –, Y/N almost teasingly dropped their adoring look and changed the subject.

“So what did you bring me this time?”, Y/N rubbed their hands in child-like excitement as their smiling visitor put five or six thick manuscripts on the desk. Y/N could not tell just yet, but their whole soul radiated.

“I brought exactly what you asked from me…”

The young man lowered both his upper body and his tone, a speck of mischievousness glinting in his eyes: “…begged, even, on each night of our honey-sweet August, when we–”

“DON’T YOU FEAR THE LORD” Y/N tried to eat their shout, as if not to disturb the new books that the philosopher brought them. To hide the insane enjoyment Y/N was indulging in this very moment, the translator tried to fit it all under a mask of pure-heartedness, pretending to focus only on the manuscripts. Three of them had sophisticated binding and parchment pages Y/N did not yet dare to touch, while the rest looked like combined ones, mixing paper and parchment. That alone spoke so much to Y/N: the compiler probably valued the contents so much that they chose to collect copies and excerpts of all possible kinds, without wasting anything. The collector, Y/N continued to muse, was surely responding to the need to preserve the past, a lost tradition, or a neglected author’s works. Viscerally: Y/N resonated with this imaginary compiler viscerally, and now that this thought process was running around in their mind, they could barely control their trembling lip from revealing a bright grin. Yet Y/N stayed silent and still, expecting an answer from their dear guest as soon as they locked eyes with him again. The audacious philosopher inhaled slowly, preparing his voice for a dead-serious tone, and despite Y/N’s likewise dead-serious stare, he dared to continue:

“Y/N. You asked for more.

So I offer you more”

His next smirk widened, shone on his lips, as if it has been eagerly awaiting the blade that suddenly hovered above his Adam’s apple. It all happened in the blink of an eye, but this expression has no meaning here: the philosopher did not want to lose such thrilling, fleeting sight by blinking. He knew Y/N’s knife would show its true dance as soon as the provocation reached not their ears, but their heart. The man just smiled and swallowed slowly in delight.

“You’d want to keep that for your quills~”

At his mocking suggestion, served with that look, an expressionless Y/N put their knife on the writing desk. Be it for vanity or play, they could not allow their face to show what they were really feeling: their heart was racing, and the adrenaline made them reach heights of happiness each time such tension appeared between the two. But there was more: Y/N saw their elated state’s reflection, and not in the clean blade they put away, no. They saw it in the philosopher’s own eyes: the thrill, the rush, the excitement behind the composed mask, if only one dared to pierce through those dark pupils.

“Another find from the nameless philosopher. You continue to plague my existence”, Y/N mocked the man who was still standing next to their desk, not too distant, not too close now.

“Nameless, oh, please… It is you who refused to call me Theodoros for a reason unknown to me.”

“The reason was, and still is, it sounds like another one of your fake names and I can’t have that.”

“Don’t be so harsh on my pseudonyms, my soul, I have to use them for each–”

“Yeah, yeah, each “figure of authority” you flatter and profit of, as far as the sea spreads and swirls”, Y/N interrupted him gesticulating defeat, for it was a backstory they knew by heart already. The philosopher did not even mind; instead, he gently took the heavy manuscripts and closed the distance between them and his favourite translator.

“Speaking of seas – and to offer you a hint as of the tomes’ origins –, you would not have believed your eyes, Y/N, the immense number of people gathering from East and West, now in Florence! It is such a pity you refused my invitation, we could have met so many honourable people, we could have shared absurd abundant meals with them all and then–” [4]

“Aha, so that is how it went. That was at the start of this year, correct? Whose illuminated mind decided to part forever with these – I assume – rarest of books?” Y/N quickly jumped to correct conclusions, hearing the philosopher chuckle as a first response.

“Oh, but you see, he is under the impression I will bring them back in two months. That is perfectly acceptable. Many things can change in two months,” he explained, forcing himself to hide a wicked grin that was creeping on his lips at the thought of his “updated” plans. “Frankly, I was not entirely convinced by his lectures, but the Florentines are at his feet, my love, at his feet… or… at least the vast majority. One night, at a banquet, after several negotiations and agreements that would greatly please the Greeks – imagine, an entire future Platonic accademia! impressive plans these Florentines have –, I reached a deal with the Greek… “theologian” too. A debatable status, if you see through his words, but that does not change the value of what he brought from his Greek land [5]. You can see part of the result before your–”, he tilted his head in endearment both mocking and true, “–spellbinding eyes, dear partner.”

Needless to say, Y/N was so used to this. After they met on the hills six, maybe seven years ago, as he was travelling the land, the nameless philosopher would visit Y/N’s little house near the small forest again and again to chit-chat. Although both of them were rather rigid and playing mysterious at first, the two realized soon enough that they shared the most pleasant discussions in each other’s company. They started to value eachother more and more in their self-isolation from the rumours of society: one as a wandering philosopher in exile, the other as a book-producing hermit. Y/N came to know he is a magister theologiae of the University of Paris, but his birth origin remained unknown. His sharp yet melancholic features always struck Y/N as foreign, his peculiar accent charmed them – on the rare occasions when he did not hide it on purpose –, but nothing captured their interest more than his mind, endless like meanings lost in translation. His own excitement bloomed and he truly opened up when Y/N revealed to them they were not only a copyist, but also a translator, dedicating their life to collecting and preserving Greek manuscripts, especially anything that could link them back to what Augustine still followed so closely in his early writings, and to what was at the roots of even that [6]. Y/N would collect, copy and translate everything into Latin and let the resulting manuscripts spread all around the West, its libraries still lacking too many Greek works in their opinion. Y/N was sick of Aristotle, they were sick of his commentators, they felt the search for Plato should be prolonged and deepened, but who would listen? Only a few villagers, only a few remarkably cultured monks and nuns, even a few royals, but overall only a few souls who kept donating parchment to Y/N. This way, they could continue to produce such compilations of translations. And so, for six, maybe seven years already, Y/N sunk into this kind of work, and with infinite pleasure: it was simply too perfect.

Still, it took a few more years for Y/N to realize who exactly God’s gift to them was. Admiring such passionate pursuit of a higher goal, the philosopher decided to help Y/N on their mission. It was only natural, he had the… let’s say “means” and “ways” to find more, to “obtain” more manuscripts that would please Y/N, as he could enter anyone’s heart and soul (not to even mention pockets) with his training and talent of speech. He had nothing to lose by entertaining Y/N – in fact, he enjoyed their interactions and exchanges each time they met, even if only few times a year, when new findings and new thoughts had him running up that hill.

“More…” Y/N whispered sweetly, already a victim to nostalgia, slowly opening and inspecting each book. It was summer again now, but the last August still lingered in both of their minds: somehow, he was able to stay with Y/N for the entire month – a most predictable one, as there was nothing that surprised the two old partners. Everything was predictable: each tease and each wordplay, each mental exercise, each gesture, each day, each night, and every mark. For their minds, everything was predictable in the most entertaining way, whereas outside their bond predictability equalled boredom. They both accepted it all, and so they stayed.

“So these are…” Y/N shook the nostalgia away, speaking in a cold tone, so obviously fake it was adorable.

“Some excerpts of Platonic dialogues. Some copied in their entirety too. Surely some things by Plotinus and, if luck’s on your side, Porphyry too, I would assume. My apologies that I did not have time to check, I arrived in Florence to pick them up a couple of days ago. You shall see, only two of them have somewhat of an index, you know how it is. I think I saw the Enneads, too?”

“The what?” Y/N showed surprise, so obviously fake, but only to themselves. Right?

“The Enneads. Plotinus. You will adore this” the philosopher chose to give only a simple answer, so that Y/N could have the pleasure of discovery all for themselves. Hiding a smile, he was already imagining the moment Y/N will dive into the thickest manuscript the philosopher brought them – how Y/N will devour its contents and lose themselves in their words.

Overwhelmed by emotion, Y/N sunk in thought for a moment, deciding whether to show deepest gratitude or deepest suspicion to their precious friend and lover. Of course, they chose a sweeter side of the latter.

“Love… Then… I assume these should have gone directly to Ficino [7] !! Heavens!! How angelic of you to offer to transport them to him!” Y/N burst into wild laughter, “This is AMAZING, and he will never know!! Ahahahahah!”

And so Y/N jumped into the arms of the philosopher disguised as a Cistercian disguised as a Dominican. They embraced him strongly enough to feel the contour of his shoulders under his two hoods, while he took advantage of the momentum to spin them around in a few full circles. Repositioning themselves, Y/N’s hands around his neck, they exchanged a confident calm look, completely satisfied with the situation. Yet Y/N’s chest got tense suddenly, succumbing to a suffocating feeling they by now struggled to hide. Y/N so desperately wanted to succumb to their shared bliss this one time – no, not like in August, but finally in the truest way they knew they still had to reach.

And Y/N hoped to reach it, because Y/N could no longer bear it. They wanted to escape.

“My soul, allow me to guess what drowns your heart in pain now. Although, why would there be anything like that…

…when we exist in the best possible world God could have created.”

The philosopher said that with a genuine smile, knowing exactly what could come next, likewise in repressed hope that Y/N would respond exactly the way he imagined they would.

Because, if they did, then…

“…

…

…Pascal isn’t born yet, Fyodor Dostoyevsky.”

Finally! FINALLY! Ah, how liberating it was to answer Fyodor’s call now! Oh, how liberating for both of them! They could finally drop their façade officially, they could finally erase the thought of everything they’ve built between them being one gigantic lie, they could finally, finally stop…

… h u n t i n g e a c h o t h e r d o w n .

This was the last test they threw at each other and Y/N knew: not answering Fyodor’s call now would have meant Y/N denying – …

…

“… – all those years they spent together in the novel. Look at us, Poe-kun. We’re both in our mid-30s. Carrying your novel on my person each day? Yeah, I hate to admit this, but there isn’t a second I’m not nervous. And it gets worse each month… What is even happening? Will they ever come out?” The voice of the master detective sounded dull, yet accumulated nervousness was imprinted on every consonant. He spoke almost absent-mindedly, as if he waited far too long for the conclusion of his plan. It worked, it did: Y/N and Fyodor were both trapped inside Poe’s Renaissance-themed novel. But Y/N was supposed to escape around five years ago – exit the novel carrying Fyodor’s corpse, his blood on their knife, and they could not fail. Ranpo designed the plan around the best assassin the Agency and the Port Mafia could hire, in a joint effort to catch the Rat. Ranpo even adapted to Fyodor’s strategies, after all, and Dazai supervised the entire thing, until he simply disappeared one day. Nobody knew why, they could only hope he would return to them again alive, unharmed, victorious…

Poe brought two cups of hot chocolate and gently put them on Ranpo’s desk. “I don’t quite know how to describe this, but I got a feeling the time will come soon”, he said, blowing the steam in the direction of his beloved raccoon, which sniffed around and licked its nose, raising its sleepy eyes from under Ranpo’s palm. “You said that 16 days ago, what can I do with this?”, the detective whined, knowing that if he took the hot chocolate and sipped from it now, it would surely burn both his lips and his tongue, so that they could not feel any taste for a good while. Somehow, as Ranpo was processing this, the fluffy raccoon handed him Y/N’s confidential contact card that Ranpo lost under his empty bags of sweets, years and years ago. The detective never saw such a determined look of steel imprinted on any other human face and his first impression of Y/N never left him. How could an assassin of such high intellect take so much time, waste time inside Poe’s novel? Refusing to say anything else, as if fearing a bad omen, Ranpo simply exhaled stating the obvious: “There it was…”

…

…There it was! Yet another mark of a voluntary player of Fyodor’s own games. Before him – he was sure of it now – stood a person willing to run the same race even in the most insignificant ways, such as spotting an anachronistic philosophical reference in what was supposed to be the 15th-century Tuscany. His suspicions came true, as well as Y/N’s. They both knew what they were now, and all doubts vanished.

Y/N’s arms still around Fyodor’s neck, the two now even closer in a tightened adamant hold, the translator waited calmly for the philosopher’s verbal reply, for his wonderstruck eyes already burned with delight and fever.

“I’d say mission accomplished, wouldn’t you too, my soul?” Fyodor extended his left hand towards Y/N, who took it in the most natural manner. “We entered this simplistic novel as each other’s hunter. Let us walk out as partners, as equals reborn.”

Fyodor’s assigned assassin never expected a change of purpose, and truly even less a change of heart, but it was the Agency’s and Mafia’s mistake to toy with those they failed to understand. The truth has always been there, predictable and in plain sight, and now Y/N could grasp it, entwine their fingers with it, with their lover’s. A blinding light began engulfing the two, a sign the novel was rejecting them. The translator gave the philosopher a smileless, determined look:

“Correct. You are no longer my target.

…They are.”

– – –

Endnotes:

[1] "Columba mea", Latin for "my dove", but literally "my pigeon" as a species; "dilectus meus", Latin for "my beloved (m)". [2] Referring to monks belonging to the Cistercian Order and Dominican Order respectively, as well as to the seculars, religiously-neutral persons (or, in this case, intellectuals), not consecrated to a monastic order, nor affiliated with a religious institution, e.g. the Church. [3] "Cruoris", Latin noun (genitive case, singular) meaning "of the blood <freshly spilled or flowing from a wound>" or, by extension, figuratively, "of the murder / assassination". [4] Referring to the ecumenical Council of Ferrara-Florence (1438-1445), more precisely to when the council was moved to Florence in January 1439. Large numbers of representatives of the Latin Church and the Greek Church gathered to discuss doctrinal differences in hopes of reuniting the two Christian Churches, officially separated since the 1054 Great Schism, also known as the East-West Schism. [5] Referring to Georgios Gemistos Plethon (c. 1355/60-1452/54), Greek scholar who reintroduced the Western/Latin public to the ideas and works of Plato during the 1438-1439 beforementioned Council of Florence. It is said he influenced Cosimo de' Medici to found the Platonic Academy of Florence. Despite having translated and assimilated Aristotelian works already (12th-13th century, thanks to Arabic translations and commentaries), Western Europe (Latin-speaking Europe) did not know the majority of Plato's works and many important Neoplatonic works, as it severely lacked translations and overall access to Greek manuscripts. This Council was a major event that led to communication between the Latin and the Greek cultures, exchanging knowledge and manuscripts, and Plethon was a key-figure in this. Ironically perhaps, the Churches themselves remained separated. [6] Referring to Neoplatonism and Platonism respectively. [7] Marsilio Ficino (1433-1499), Italian humanist philosopher and theologian. He was the first translator of Plato's complete works, from Greek to Latin, immensely contributing to the revival of Platonic philosophy in Latin (Western) Europe. Among many other translation projects and his own works, Ficino also translated works of Neoplatonic philosophers, such as Plotinus, Porphyry, and Iamblichus. He was the central figure and leader of the Platonic Academy of Florence.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd fyodor #bsd fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor dostoyevsky #bsd fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fanfiction #renewing the renaissance #bsd x reader #bsd event #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #I CAN'T BELIEVE I AM ONCE AGAIN CONTRINBUTING TO THE DOSTOYEVSKY X READER TAG #how could I do this/??? how did I succeed??? how why where did these 3200+ words come from?? I am so nervous and I want to hide forever #I am no writer but I hope this will entertain a few fellow fans of this fine character a normal amount kfjsdnfksjd #how?? me?? writing Fedya fluff?? how on Earth #anyway ngl I put lots of love into this idea for the event and I am glad I managed to post it #also you're NOT getting stereotypical philosopher tropes with this one because I serve them like actual people #not like idealized discount versions of Sokrates fjksngjs trust me it's my job #ok now excuse while I go hide in a cave of course #one day I'll post my Fedya essay too to bring canon evidence that he has indeed a playful mind and can tease others but until then.. enjoy

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g0nta-g0kuhara · 2 years

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All signs are currently pointing to Kaito being dead, there's overwhelming evidence in support of it, but there's two truth bullets that are giving me this horrible feeling that something's wrong and we're missing something important. But How On EARTH could it be Kaito in the exisal instead? You don't understnad I'm losing it here

#Halfway through trial 5 and I feel like my worldview is crumbling #Kaito had like 4 different things going on that would kill him #1. Fantasy tuberculosis 2. Poison arrow and kokichi drank the antidote 3. Previous injury from the exisal 4. HYDRAULIC PRESS #But Kaito ''won't die like this'' as he said right?????? right?????#IMPORTANTLY. And shuichi hasn't brought it up yet #the bloody drag mark from the bathroom to the press. And the drag stain on Kokichi's clothes found in the toilet #The fact that ALL OF HIS CLOTHES were in the toilet #as funny as it is to imagine he's butt naked in the exisal. why would he do that #Thats just leaving behind more evidence #and if he's not gonna leave the exisal anyway #why would he have to hide that he's injured and was dragged(?!?!) to create the unsolvable case #Its weird. SO weird.#That video is weird too. I was thinking this last night #how did the handheld camera not get disrupted by the electrobomb????#IM STILL NOT SURE IF KOKICHI IS IN THERE GUYS #But if It IS Kaito. Why is he dragging it out like this? Why is he pretending to be kokichi? and doing it so well?#One thing that points to it not being Kaito is all the talk ''kokichi'' had about what his goal is for this case #idk man. kaito's not good at bluffing #but something's very very wrong #shut up me

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pathfinderswiftpen · 11 months

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Nothing like rewatching your favorite play and realizing you have supportable reasons for relating a little too much to the tragic main character ohmygod

#something about being afraid to let anyone love you: especially those who are willing and desirious to do so #personal #cyrano de bergerac #(1950 version)#wish i could talk to the former friend that introduced me to this play; we always disagreed on whether Cyrano did right or not.#to be fair through. i really don't think I could- you know what. no. i would. i could tell the story revealing the truth. fuck that.#it's about being rejected SO much that you embrace it in many ways because it's familiar. and even instigate it so it was your choice.#but fearing the pain of being rejected by the ONE person whose opinion of you you ACTUALLY care about so much #that you choose to live in the familiar pain and refuse to risk that rather than believe the evidence before you and let them love you #And yes i know he didn't want to reveal Christian after his death as a way of 'honoring' him but he hides behind that as an excuse #he knew Christian wanted him to tell her. good god may i not be so stubborn #as my grandmother would say 'don't cut off your nose just to spite your face' and boy what a phrase for this play #anyway

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angorwhosebabyisthis · 1 year

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so there's something that's always stood out to me: whenever ivan kills someone or fights--in training or for real--he's described as having an emptiness in his eyes, or a 'dead look' on his face.

he's always been one of my favorite characters in LL, so i'd be fucked up about it anyway; it says some really alarming things about whatever's happened while adam wasn't around. but it also sticks out because to my knowledge no one else is described that way, except maybe vatborn. (and even then i haven't been able to find instances of that so far, i'm just going off what i remember.) something terrible has happened here, that much is obvious, but we don't see most of it; it's clearly been happening where adam mostly hasn't seen it either, or at least doesn't notice. so what gives?

...then i was looking back through the scenes where adam wakes up, and i caught this.

I imagine all the strength and combat training he’s been doing without me, likely coached by the General himself.

i'll toughen you up yet, he says after injuring adam during a sparring match, the one and only time in TFL where he says 'i' or 'me.' make your father proud.

oh.

#lorien legacies #ivanick shu-ra #adamus sutekh #andrakkus sutekh #adam makes it pretty clear that the general is in the habit of both hitting ivan and hiding it when other people are around #so it's not like there's no precedent of the general being willing to lay hands on him #bad things have been happening to this kid just offscreen and it fcks me up 🥲#especially when so much of the evidence we see for the ways in which he's been hurt comes from him hurting other people as a result #he was an abused kid whose combination of circumstances; personality; and personal flaws did not leave him the way out that adam got #instead other people pay the price for what was done to him and the guidance he did not get when he needed it #and you get a fourteen-year-old kid dissociating while he murders a little girl because his father beat him so badly he Does That Now #the sutekh-shu-ras and what they do to the people around them are a god damn tragedy to watch and 💔#abuse cw #child abuse cw #physical abuse cw #child death mention cw #LL tag #dyn: so glad you're awake

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firebirdsdaughter · 2 years

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Ya know…

… Given how much animosity he displays towards Fowler, I don’t think Peter completely believed that Neal had taken the diamond in 1x07.

But I do think he had to tell/try to convince himself he did. He didn’t really have many choices in that situation. Peter’s generally a stoic, he likes stability, and he likes rules. Legally, he was trapped. He could throw a fit about it, but, well, we see what happens when Fowler does get him to lose his cool. Peter’s options were limited, so I think he weighed going along w/ it as the better, less dangerous option for both of them (Peter putting up a fight might not/probably wouldn’t have stopped them sending Neal back to prison, and might’ve caused more issues). After that, there’s just not enough evidence and he’s under scrutiny, so it’s easier to just shut it down and say he believes it.

He’s protective of Neal when Fowler first starts questioning him, is even willing to take Mozzie as an alibi (curse Neal’s inability to lie to Peter, Mozzie would have backed him up), the extra ‘please’ about remaining silent, icily telling Fowler Neal did good work, blaming Fowler more for everything (‘I was working my ass off to keep this kid on the straight and narrow before you showed up’) after Neal escapes, being wilfully unhelpful in the search (I love how they reuse a line from the first ep to show you when Peter is covering for Neal—twice, in both s1 and s4)… That’s not the attitude of someone completely certain that Neal committed a theft of an insanely expensive diamond. If Peter believed it that strongly, he’d’ve arrested Neal at his house immediately, he wouldn’t waste time groaning about him involving El, and it takes one minute to talk him out of it.

To me, that’s more Peter coping the best he can w/ a situation he feels he can’t change, if that makes sense. He feels powerless, and that doesn’t sit well, so he has to tell himself that this is right, keep his personal feelings out of the equation. Once they have a lead on what’s going on, he immediately starts working on it.

So no, I don’t think Peter believed it as completely as he claimed—I think esp in the conversation he had w/ Neal in prison he was hurt by what apparently happened and that’s why he’s so upset there, and then later he just felt like he had no choice by to force himself to ‘accept it,’ even if deep down he wanted to and did ultimately believe Neal.

#White Collar #I mean #says a lot that Neal instantly went back to them even after escaping #like I said I think he puppy imprinted long ago #but yeah esp since this is s1 Peter #who I think is not quite up to the 'investigate on a hunch' task yet #I think he went w/ the option he felt was less dangerous and less painful #and he is HURT in that conversation in the prison #after that I think he did want to believe Neal #but he didn't feel like he could do anything #there was no other proof but Neal's word #and while that might mean something to Peter OPR isn't so willing #but then Neal actually brings him evidence and they find out his house was bugged and he has something to work w/ again #if any of this makes sense #it also occurs to me that maybe Neal came back to the Burkes bc he felt like he'd endangered them #like he knew Fowler had bugged their phone he was probably worried that even if he didn't #they'd be accused of hiding him or something or just that they wouldn't stop going after them #Adopt a Felon 101

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chstart · 4 months

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it's the way phoenix isn't as good a person as he might've once liked to believe he was & how, even though he's become better for the people that've become staples of stability in his life, he also has dropped the pretense that he's good enough a person to be above doing things not strictly considered the right thing. it's the way he's self-reflected & come to terms with the fact that yeah there's actually very few proper good people in the world & man, he's just not one of them. he's a decent person, nice, usually, even. he'll be polite to all the right people & try to prove the innocence of innocents & fight against injustice in the courtroom & all that, because he is a decent person. but he's not a good person, at the least not in his own mind, not anymore.

#nick's one of my fav characters of all time but also i have to laugh when i see ppl treat him as this golden boy of criminal justice #oh he'll say pre!disbandment he did shady shit like trespass & steal evidence from crime scenes bc Maya talked him into it #but that's just a convenient & believable excuse to hide behind while. throwing someone else under the bus about it #he'll make a big show of not wanting to go behind the police's back for shit around the kids bc he wants to show a good example #but the second he & maya reunite & are back on a case together all that's dropped & maya hasnt even said a word when nick's climbing a fenc #he makes sure not to do anything outright illegal (at least where he could be caught) but he jumps through a Lot of loopholes #thats not even going into how theres people he straight up does NOT want to defend or deal with because of his own biases #or because he just can't be bothered on the day that he's needed #so it's often someone else who Pushes him into doing the right thing where left to his own devices nick really wouldnt have bothered #there's executive dysfunctions there yes but a Lot of the time it's also just. truly not feeling bothered enough #he is by no means perfect & i will laugh out anyone who insists he's a pure uwu baby whos never done anything wrong #he has done. SO much wrong <3 #ooc. butterdog. the dog with the butter.#phoenix. study.

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moechies · 1 month

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morning sex w satoru + sugu (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) cw boys kissing

light peeks through the cracks of the curtains, painting both your skins with gentle streaks of golden yellow.

your boyfriend’s head hovers in the crook of your shoulder, short soft strands of his hair tickling your face and neck;

his thrusts are sloppy, yet deep, brushing over every little crevice of your sweet cunt. a thin layer of slick covers you and himself, low noises of ‘pap pap pap’ that can be heard every time you feel him slide in and out of you.

“satoru.. feels s’good..” you whimper out with a wanton moan, eyes fluttering shut with a weak grasp on his bicep.

he hovers over you, not allowing you to see over his huge body.

“know it does, baby. sweet cunt was made to take me, hm?” his voice rasps next to the shell of your ear; it tickles.

lost in your pleasure, you seem to miss the small noise; a ‘click!’ that comes from opening the front door to your shared home. but even with the sweet moans that spill from your mouth, and the soft creaks of your moving mattress, he seems to hear..

he slows his pace, causing you to elicit a whine with a small scowl,

“huh? wh-what did i do..? why’d you st-stop..?”

“no princess,” he chuckles, “it isn’t you. suguru’s here.”

“w-what? i didn’t hear anything.. s’okay ‘toru.. jus’ keep going.. please.?”

before he can argue back, a creak comes from your doorknob, evident enough to have you both turning your heads to the door,

“mornin’,”

your boyfriend’s best friend stands leniently against the doorframe, left hand holding 2 small bags of a type of pastry. you lay back down below your boyfriend, tugging the thick blanket over your body and over your head in a panic,

“suguru.. what are you doin’ here?” satoru asks, a question with almost no intent of asking him to leave. “brought you two lovebirds some sweets and coffee, but looks like you guys had other plans..”

the room silences, and you pull down the sheets in hopes that suguru has left, fully expecting to re face your boyfriend;

“hey darlin’,” suguru greets above you.

your face has never reddened faster, hands desperately searching for a grip on the blanket before pulling it over your face again; but this time it’s stopped by a big, warm hand.

“don’t be shy.. your boyfriend’s right here, what’s there to be so scared of, hm?” he taunts, a small smile at the way your face flushes in embarrassment, turning your head to shoot another mean scowl at your teasing boyfriend.

“i-i.. s-sorry suguru.. t-this is probably w-weird.. m-m sorry..”

you can’t look him in the eyes, but you feel your body getting warmer whilst being the main attraction of the 2 men above you.

“nothing’s weird, don’t you think?” he teases again, a small pout at your boyfriend’s giggle.

“anyways, i gotta be on my way. let me give you a kiss goodbye, yeah?”

you look at your boyfriend in a panic, eyes pacing back and forth, looking for anything on his face that hints for what you should say.

gojo can’t help but smile at your fawn-like innocence and worried eyes much like a deer in headlights , waiting for you to take initiative.

“n-no.. do-don’t wanna. satoru would never want me to do that.. ‘nd i don’t wanna.” you whimper, hiding in the chest of your boyfriend.

now suguru pouts, an almost comical sight to satoru. he lets out a small chuckle,

“it’s okay princess. give suguru a kiss.”

you look at your boyfriend with a questionable stare, silently questioning the strange approval. his eyes sparkle of nothing but love for you, not a single bit of faux intention, nor jealously.

his best friend wastes no time pressing his soft lips onto yours, eyes agape before slowly melting into the palm of his hand. your boyfriend brings a hand to stroke the soft of your cheek, whispers of ‘good girl,’ as you lose yourself in his best friends mouth.

suguru pulls away with a ‘pop!’ wiping his spit covered mouth with the back of his hand with a laugh,

“desperate little girl.”

satoru only laughs at the comment, turning his head to meet suguru’s, in which they press their lips against each other as well; swapping spit between all three of you guys.

“h-hey.. th-that’s my boyfriend..” you whimper, attempting to claim your boyfriend back. suguru only chuckles before pulling away,

“sorryyy princess, you can have him back.” he says, having you pull him back quickly with a huff, hiding your body against his as you shoot geto a mean glare.

“hey.. ‘s okay if you do it, but not me?” gojo teases, a light flush coming across your face.

geto laughs again, turning himself toward the door, “alright, i’m really off now.” he raises a hand, signaling a goodbye before pulling the door closed with a slight crack,

“and hey, you two need to shut up.. neighbors are complaining to me again.”

#jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru fluff #gojo fluff #geto fluff #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo jjk #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #getou x reader

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