#(( they have it so that killing something lets him take its strength like he levels up every time ))

[rennalaqotfm]

𖤓 DRAGONSPEAR | J.V (PART III)

Pairing: Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x Martell Princess! Reader

Synopsys: Upon discovering Aemond Targaryen's alliance with the Triarchy, the Blacks are pushed to the point of desperation. With the war looming over the horizon, they have no choice but to turn to an unlikely ally: House Martell.

Content Warning: Violence, blood and injury, mentions of death, alcohol consumption, angst, and a lot of 'fucking politicking,' as King Viserys said, (not proofread).

Dialogue in italics is High Valyrian.

WC: 5.4k

Series Masterlist

(A/N and taglist at the end of the chapter)

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon had always prided himself on being a capable fighter. Although Jacaerys' strength primarily lay in politics, he never let his swordsmanship fall behind. In fact, Ser Harwin Strong, the captain of the City Watch, and as many whispered, his real father,  had taught him everything about the art of yielding a sword. From the correct way of unsheathing the blade to keeping his knees slightly bent so he wouldn't stagger as easily. He still recalled how at the tender age of six, Ser Harwin kneeled to his level as he placed his heavy arm on his shoulder.

'A sword is but a tool. Its true power lies within the one who yields it. Visualise your desired outcome, and your blade will follow.'

Ser Criston Cole, however, had no patience for his idealised notions of battle. While Ser Harwin had taught Jacaerys the foundations of swordsmanship, it was Ser Criston who introduced him to the unforgiving truth of a real battle, proving that sparring with a straw dummy wasn't useful beyond the training grounds.

'When steel is drawn, a fair fight isn't something anyone should expect.'

He still bitterly remembered how Ser Criston had him spar against his uncle Aegon. Anyone who watched that scene would've thought it wasn't a fair battle. Aegon was already four-and-ten, much taller and stronger than he was. Jacaerys still remembered how Aegon's strikes had come faster and harder than anything he had faced before, especially the kick to his stomach that sent him flying to the ground with a thud, and yet, Aegon didn't cease delivering blow after blow with brute force.

'Is this what you teach, Cole? Cruelty to the weaker opponent?' 

The sting of defeat, the bruises that lingered for days, and the humiliation of being bested in front of others, particularly his grandsire Viserys, were all part of Ser Criston's lesson. And in that moment, Jacaerys came to realise that cruelty might be something he didn't possess.

Now there was no excuse. It wasn't going to be an unfair battle since Prince Elyas Martell was but a year older than him, and couldn't have trained any differently. However, Jacaerys had never killed a man with his own hands. Yes, he had led men into battle, but taking someone's life with his sword was something he had yet to experience. There was no doubt that killing was nothing more than just a mundane task for Elyas. Those Dornishmen seemed to take pleasure in the most outlandish ways, which made him question how strong of a warrior Prince Elyas was to defeat such great lords.

Then he recalled the story Addam of Hull had told them in Dragonstone, how the reason why Princess Y/n remained unwed was because his suitors had met the common fate of death. As much as he didn't want to believe those rumours, he had bitterly grown to accept that all those tales about the Dornishmen were nothing but true. 

The young prince frowned as he took in the arid, unforgiving weather. It would've been foolish to wear his full armour for the trial; the extreme heat would likely cause him to collapse before he even reached the arena. He sported nothing more than a Targaryen breastplate on top of a linen tunic, and his breeches. He considered sporting his gauntlets, but the sweat of his hands would affect the grip on his sword. Even with just the breastplate, he already felt how beads of sweat rolled down his back.

Jacaerys had been so fixated on winning the trial that he barely had any time to process his betrothal with Princess Y/n. He wondered if all of her suitors even wished for power, or mayhaps they were simply entranced by her beauty. Despite her attitude,  there was something enticing about the Princess he couldn't bring himself to deny. But what was he going to do if behind that beauty lay nothing but different ideals and hostility? What would the rest of the houses think upon finding out about their alliance with House Martell? How would the two of them rule the whole realm if the Princess put Dorne's interests before the rest of Westeros? 

Not to mention, even if he emerged victorious from the trial, he doubted Princess Y/n would be too pleased if her brother's life was the price. The thought gnawed at him as he fastened his boots. But what if he were the one to fall? He couldn't even begin to imagine the devastation it would bring to his mother, and the mere thought of her grief twisted his stomach. Daemon had offered to fight in his place, a suggestion his mother had eagerly supported. Yet, Jacaerys had refused, knowing that the Princess would never consider his proposal if he didn't prove his own worth in the arena. To win her hand without facing the trial himself would be dishonourable.

No matter what he did, all odds were against him.

"It's time," one of the guards spoke behind the door.

One guard led the way, as the other trailed behind him, with his spear in hand, ready to attack if the Prince even attempted to do anything. They walked through the labyrinthine halls of the Old Palace, adorned with pillars and chandeliers, lighting up the place as the blinding rays of sunshine met with the golden decorations.

They stepped into the flourishing gardens leading to the arena, where Rhaenyra and Daemon awaited his arrival. He could hear his mother's voice as they spoke in High Valyrian, unaware of his presence.

"I have lost too many children, Daemon. The thought of losing Jace—" Rhaenyra's voice faltered, her lip quivering as she fought to swallow the rising lump in her throat. 

"Elyas would be a fool to slay the Crown Prince," Daemon mumbled. 

"You, above all, should know what these people are capable of."

"But killing the future king of the realm is a line they would not dare cross."

"And yet, must the price we pay for this war be our children?" Rhaenyra's voice broke. 

"I was not aware how my death would be such an interesting thing to discuss," Jacaerys muttered bitterly.

"Jace," Rhaenyra turned to face her son, cupping his cheek. "For the last time, you do not have to do this—"

Jacaerys swatted his mother's hand off, his eyes full of contempt. 

"You have no right to act concerned, Mother. You pushed forward with this, knowing the risks, knowing that I might pay with my life. Whatever fate awaits me in this trial... if I die, my blood is in your hands. But at least I will have done my duty."

Before Rhaenyra could say anything else to her son, the guards urged him to move forward.

With a heavy heart, Jacaerys turned to face her mother one last time, but she was nowhere to be seen as they most likely had been taken to the gallery. Before the guards pushed the double doors they exchanged a look of pity, clearing a path for him. That didn't go unnoticed by the Prince, and it only added to the river of negative emotions he had been drowning in since they arrived.

As Jacaerys stepped through the double doors, the world around him was suddenly swallowed by darkness, with only a narrow beam of light from the distant end of the tunnel. The corridor stretched before him, its walls echoing with the muffled sounds of the world above. He could hear the creak of wooden beams straining under the weight of footsteps, making him wonder how many eyes might be waiting for him outside. The air was cool and heavy, carrying with it the scent of the arena's sands, yet the usual roar of a crowd was eerily absent.

Jacaerys took a deep breath before stepping into the arena. The sun was almost blinding, leaving him momentarily disoriented. Feeling like a caged animal, he scanned his surroundings, shielding his eyes with his hand. To his surprise, there weren't many spectators; he could only make out the members of the Martell council. Then, his eyes quickly found his mother, whose face was etched with deep concern and regret. Nearby, Daemon, unable to sit still, attempted to calm his nerves with a cup of wine. Not very far from where the council sat, there were three empty seats in the royal box, where Prince Qoren took his seat, with Farien on his lap. Jacaerys grew confused as he saw Prince Elyas take a seat next to his father, leaving one empty. Was he not going to fight for his sister? Mayhaps the Princess' champion was her sworn protector. 

A few moments had passed, yet the Princess was nowhere to be seen. Jacaerys' mind raced with doubts. Was she not going to attend the trial she herself had proposed? 

Suddenly, the double doors opposite him began to open and the Martells began to cheer. Prince Qoren wrapped his arm around Farien, who couldn't stop clapping as he bounced on his father's lap. Elyas signalled one of the servants to bring him a cup of wine, as he leaned back on his seat and looked at Jacaerys with a sneer. 

His eyes widened in shock as the figure emerging from the other side of the arena wasn't one of the twins either. 

It was Princess Y/n herself.

The Princess strode toward the centre of the arena, the sun-kissed amber fabric of her dress flowing like a whisper with each step. The high slits on either side of the skirt fluttered and snapped, revealing glimpses of her legs as she moved. With a fluid motion, Princess Y/n unsheathed the two golden daggers holstered on her thighs, playfully twirling them around her fingers.

"Princess Y/n Martell, the Dancing Serpent of Dorne, and Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, the Crown Prince. Let the trial commence," Ser Domeric Uller announced, earning another wave of applause from the Martells. 

Dancing Serpent of Dorne?

Jacaerys took an instinctive step back, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Two guards blocked the door with their spears, leaving no chance of escape. In the glaring sunlight, Princess Y/n appeared like an oasis amid the dunes, her bronze skin glowing with an ethereal radiance, akin to that of a deity. She moved with the lethal agility of a serpent, her eyes locked onto him, calculating, and ready to strike. A storm of doubts began to cloud Jacaerys. What was he supposed to do? Kill her? Maim her? 

He suddenly heard Ser Criston Cole's voice echoing in the back of his mind.

'Blades up. Engage.'

As if guided by pure instinct, the Prince unsheathed his sword, the sharp silver catching and reflecting a ray of sunlight. He quickly assumed a defensive stance, his eyes fixed onto the Princess. If he kept his distance, he should have the advantage over her. He lunged, aiming not for a lethal blow, but to knock the Princess off her feet, hard enough to force her to yield. 

He was not there to shed blood. 

The Princess easily dodged his attack as his blade slashed the air, and he quickly withdrew to his defensive stance. They began circling each other, eyes locked, neither daring to look away.

A bead of sweat trickled down Jacaerys' temple, his heart pounding as he watched Y/n assume a low, unfamiliar stance. She held both of her daggers up, poised like a serpent's fangs as she moved with languid grace, inching closer to him, almost hypnotically.

Before he could fully register the movement, a sharp pain sliced through his arm. Jacaerys hissed as Y/n's blade carved a deep gash, warm blood seeping through his white tunic and dripping onto the sand. He clenched his jaw, forcing the searing pain to the back of his mind, determined to ignore the Martells' cheers echoing around the arena. At least the arm wielding his sword was still intact.

The dance between the dragon and the serpent continued. Y/n darted forward, her twin daggers a blur as she unleashed a relentless flurry of slashes. Jacaerys struggled to block, each clash of steel sending vibrations up his injured arm. As she pressed her assault, he caught a glimpse of something feral in her eyes, a familiar look he knew all too well: bloodlust.

Growing weary of her relentless attacks, he sidestepped one of her strikes and delivered a swift, powerful kick to her side. The sheer force sent the Princess onto the sand with a grunt, one of her daggers slipping from her grasp.

Seizing the moment, Jacaerys lifted his blade to force her to surrender. But before he could strike, the Princess rolled to the side and kicked his shin, sending him stumbling backwards. In a heartbeat, Y/n was on him, knocking the sword from his grasp. She straddled him, raising her dagger high, ready to plunge it into his throat. Jacaerys reacted just in time, catching her wrist in a bone-crushing grip. Y/n cried out, the pain weakening her hold, and Jacaerys seized the opportunity. With a desperate reach, he grabbed the dagger she had previously dropped, which was just at arm's reach, and drove it straight into her side. 

"Sister!" Elyas stood from his seat, ready to drive a spear into Jacaerys' heart. 

The Princess wailed in agony, her body retracting as she recoiled from the blow. Jacaerys quickly rolled free and scrambled to his feet, retrieving his sword and pointing it at her, his chest heaving as he tried to keep her pinned under the threat of his blade.

"Princess, please, I do not wish to hurt you—"

Jacaerys' eyes widened in horror as he watched Y/n yank the dagger from her side with a wicked grin. Without hesitation, she drove it into his calf. He groaned in pain, nearly collapsing, and used his sword to regain balance, the blade trembling under his weight.

Princess Y/n stood up from the ground, twirling the dagger as she watched the Prince struggle to get back to a defensive stance. Blood trickled down her side, soaking into her dress and staining the sand beneath her a deep crimson colour.

Jacaerys clenched his jaw in humiliation, feeling how pathetic he must have appeared to his mother, Daemon, the Martells, and most of all, to Y/n herself. 

Before he could fully recover, Y/n moved like a shadow, slipping behind him. He grunted as she wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling him close. The cold edge of her dagger was pressed firmly against his throat, and he dared not move.

He caught a glimpse of his mother, restrained by Daemon and the guards, her blood-curdling screams piercing through the air. It was the last sound he wanted to hear in his final moments. Jacaerys squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown out the chaos and focus on memories that brought him comfort: the waves crashing against the cliffs of Dragonstone, the rhythmic beat of Vermax's wings cutting through the clouds, and Lucerys' carefree laughter.

As he opened his eyes and looked up at the sky, he smiled bitterly. The absurdity of it all nearly made him laugh. From the moment he had stepped into the arena, he knew he was doomed to fail. Yet, some foolish part of him had clung to the hope that he could make the Princess surrender. 

He felt the Princess' laboured breaths in his ear, sending a chill down his spine. He waited, and waited, and waited for the dagger to slash his neck, but the excruciating pain he had anticipated never came. 

Instead, a simple command reached his ears. One that, under any other circumstances, he would have defied without a second thought. But at that moment, his life was in the hands of Princess Y/n, and he dared not disobey her.

"Kneel before me," she whispered, making his blood run cold.

Jacaerys felt the Princess's grip loosen, allowing him to stumble forward. He turned back to face her, dropping to one knee, his gaze locked on hers. But in her eyes, he found no trace of mercy, nor cruelty. The bloodlust had drained away, replaced by a storm of emotions she herself couldn't fully comprehend.

That was the first time he had looked closely at the Princess. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, beads of sweat rolling down her temple as a few droplets of his own blood stained her face. There was something undeniably bewitching about her, a pull he couldn't fathom. As he gazed up at the woman before him, a creeping sense of fear began to coil in his chest as he came to realise the power she wielded over him. She was the kind of woman who could either plunge the Seven Kingdoms into chaos or unite them under her command.

"I choose Prince Jacaerys Velaryon as my betrothed," she declared, her voice echoing through the arena as her eyes locked onto Rhaenyra. "House Martell will stand with Queen Rhaenyra in the Targaryen Civil War. In return, we demand control of the Stepstones, the unwavering protection and loyalty of House Targaryen whenever called upon, and the unchallenged independence of Dorne once the war is won. And most importantly," she looked at her father, giving him a firm nod, "I expect an official acknowledgement of Dorne's sovereignty. Let this moment be written in history, for the generations to come."

The dining hall of the Old Palace was in full swing. Delicacies were served in abundance, and the servants scurried about, refilling cups left and right. The Princess was deep into her fifth cup, trying to numb the burning pain of her wound, which had been sewn and bandaged by Maester Kyce, and although her wrist was badly bruised, it wasn't dislocated.

Her gaze shifted to the erotic performance happening before them as they ate. A pair of men and women explored their bodies, trying the most peculiar positions that she never thought were possible. She could only chuckle, the wine painting the scene as the most amusing thing she had ever witnessed. She finished what she had left in her cup, before ushering the servant for more. 

It was the only thing that could help her escape the suffocating atmosphere at the round table. Her father wasn't particularly pleased to be sharing the table with the Targaryens, and the feeling was mutual with the Martells. She couldn't bring herself to look at Elyas, whose eyes burned with the desire to start a war. Rhaenyra appeared torn between wanting to have her publicly executed for hurting her son and embracing her for sparing his life—yet even then, Y/n wasn't sure if what she had done was truly an act of mercy. Daemon leaned back, indulging in the finest Dornish wines, smirking as he silently celebrated the small victory of his successful plan. The only person who could have made the ordeal more bearable was Farien, but he was already fast asleep in his chambers. 

Then there was Jacaerys. He sat stiffly, trying to focus on anything but her. Yet, there was something about her presence that commanded his attention, and his eyes betrayed him, drifting toward her against his will. Mayhaps her eyes lingered on him longer than she had realised, as their gazes suddenly met. He looked away, as though her eyes just scarred his soul.

"Well, isn't that pathetic..." she muttered under her breath.

That was the man who was to be her future betrothed, a prince who couldn't even meet her gaze without flinching. The thought of marrying someone like him left a sour taste in her mouth.

"Have you got something to say, Princess?" Jacaerys suddenly spat.

"Oh, I most certainly do," Y/n retorted, her lips curling in a mocking grin as she tried her best not to slur her words. Casymir helped her stand up. She took her cup and slowly raised it. "I wish to propose a toast," she began, trailing her eyes at Daemon and Rhaenyra before resting her gaze on Jacaerys. "After all, it's not every day that we witness such a... historic moment. The mighty Dragon, so fierce and proud, finally finds its place... on the ground, with one bent knee before the Serpent. To the ever-lasting and prosperous alliance of House Martell and House Targaryen." 

The room fell into an uneasy silence. Prince Qoren hummed in approval, raising his cup with a satisfied smile, while Rhaenyra and Daemon's expressions tightened in shock and disbelief at the blatant disrespect. Daemon's eyes narrowed dangerously, lingering on the knife beside the roast piglet, his fingers inching towards it. But before he could act, Rhaenyra's sharp glare stopped him. Jacaerys, however, had enough of her insolent attitude.

"I wish to propose a toast as well," Jacaerys stood up, wincing at the pain in his leg. "I wish to thank House Martell for their... overwhelming hospitality in receiving the Crown," he paused, taking his time to look at the Martells and each guard. "Not only have we been looked after with the utmost care, every single moment accompanied by the comforting presence of a spear at our backs, but you have also shown us that the great tales they speak of the Dornishmen are nothing but the truth. Fighting against the Princess herself has truly been an honour, and I am forever grateful for the mercy she has shown me. Mayhaps the Princess has a soft spot after all." 

"Oh, my Prince," her eyes narrowed, knowing all too well that the mercy Jacaerys had referred to was cowardice. "I would love to have another duel, but I'd much prefer you alive for our wedding."

Jacaerys' face twisted with fury, his anger momentarily blinding him. In a swift motion, he drew his sword. Y/n didn't flinch. Instead, she unsheathed her dagger instinctively, pointing it directly at his forehead.

"We should take this to the arena if the Prince dares, that is," Princess Y/n smirked. "Well?" She taunted, looking down on him.

Jacaerys' nostrils flared with rage, knuckles turning white as he tightly held the grip of his sword. His mother's comforting touch slowly calmed his inner storm, and with a sour look on his face, he put his sword away. 

"That's what I thought," she muttered loud enough as she sat back down.

"Aren't they lovely, both of them? Already bickering like an old, married couple," Prince Qoren laughed. "Speaking of, they should marry as soon as possible. The wedding of my beloved daughter should be an event to remember," he turned to the Targaryens. "What do you want, Y/n, dear? We should get a pair of fine Braavosi tigers and make the prisoners fight them in the arena—"

"We are at war, Prince Qoren, we have no time for celebrations," Daemon interrupted him.

"It is only a matter of weeks before Ser Tyland reaches the Free Cities if the winds are in their favour," Rhaenyra echoed Lady Mysaria's words, not able to hide her concern. "Rest assured, once the war has been won, the celebrations will be held in the Red Keep."

"But who can assure me the Prince will not die during this war?" Prince Qoren asked, shrugging his shoulders. "When do you suppose we have the wedding? Once the Prince is dead?"

The Queen's face hardened, her eyes narrowing at him.

"I could have your tongue for that, Prince Qoren," she said coldly. 

"I'm glad the formalities are off the table," he muttered bitterly. "Your war can wait. My daughter is of sun and sand and will be married here, in our lands, with our people."

Rhaenyra could barely contain her anger, too tired of hearing the Martells' unreasonable demands. The idea of postponing the war for a wedding felt like a mockery, a distraction from the battle that could determine the fate of her house.

Y/n fought the urge to roll her eyes, too exhausted by the entire ordeal, the weight of her choices, and the tangled mess she now found herself in. With a deep sigh, she drained her cup, forcing herself to adopt a more civil tone.

"As much as I'm enjoying everybody's lovely company, I'm not faring well with my wound. I shall go back to my chambers to rest," the Princess excused herself as Casymir helped her stand up, wrapping his arm around her for support. 

By now, the once lavish feast had lost its appeal. The delicacies had grown cold, and the appetite of those present had long since vanished.

"I'll see to it that my sister returns to her chambers safely," Elyas excused himself, rising from his seat and trailing after the Princess.

"Elyas isn't happy about your decision," Casymir said softly as he cradled the Princess in his arms. 

Casymir chose to take the long path through the gardens back to her chambers, where the light of the full moon bathed everything in a silvery glow, and the warm evening breeze carried the scent of blooming magnolias. The flickering torches along the way cast dancing shadows, soothing the Princess' spirits.

"I figured as much," she scoffed. "He'll come to understand in due time."

"I'm afraid he won't, Princess," Casymir teased, making her laugh. 

"Not even if I explain?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He'd understand even less," Casymir replied with a grin, his words drawing another burst of laughter from her.

At that moment, it was clear that Casymir was the only one who could truly reach her heart. She looked up at her half-brother, noting the familiar wild curls and thick brows they shared. Yet, unlike the brown eyes she and her other brothers had, his were a deep shade of blue, like the glittering Dornish waters on a sunny day.

"You should've been a jester instead, Cas," she murmured, her voice growing softer as the effects of the wine finally began to lull her into sleep. She nestled closer to his chest, allowing herself to relax completely in his arms.

"I'd rather be your shadow, Princess," his eyes softened, watching her doze off.

By the time they had arrived at her chambers, Y/n was already snoring lightly. Casymir raised his brow upon seeing his twin waiting outside.

"Leoran?" Casymir asked. "What are you doing here? Where's Elyas?"

"Inside. I'd hurry if I were you," Leoran said, opening the door for them.

Casymir stepped inside, only to find Elyas sitting on one of the seats. By the look on his face and the empty cup on the table, it seemed that he had been waiting for a while.

"What took you both so long?" He asked, looking at his half-brother in disdain.

"We were in the gardens, Y/n wanted to—"

"Leave us," he commanded.

"Very well," Casymir lowered his gaze and nodded. 

He laid the Princess on her bed carefully, brushing a strand of hair off her face, but she already seemed to have been awoken by Elyas' voice. Y/n sat up, rubbing her eyes, only to be greeted by a pounding headache and a sharp pain on her side. Once she spotted her brother with his arms crossed, sitting down across from her, she groaned. 

"Well?" He asked, expectantly.

"Not now, Elyas," she sighed. 

"Then when?" He stood up and kicked the chair aside. "When? When were you going to tell me what you and Father were planning?"

Y/n rolled her eyes, feeling her headache worsen as Elyas' voice boomed in her ears.

"Planning?" She scoffed. "Father didn't have a say in my decision. He gave me two choices, and I merely chose the one that wouldn't lead to bloodshed."

"Oh, really? What were these two grand choices?" He pressed.

"Side with the Blacks and keep our independence, or refuse, and face the Triarchy and the Greens once this war is over," she paused, gathering all of the patience she had left to keep going. "Do you understand what that would mean, Elyas? It means another war, right on our doorstep. For us. For Dorne. For our people. And tell me, what should I have chosen? More bloodshed? More meaningless deaths? You think that's what Father would've wanted?"

"If you had told me, then I could've helped you decide!" Elyas' voice cracked with frustration, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Help me decide?" She retorted. "And by that, do you mean killing the Velaryon boy?"

"Why not?" Elyas shot back. "You had the chance! You could've slit his throat and ended it all, yet you chose to spare that bastard's life."

"And what would that have accomplished?" She shouted. "Had I killed him, you'd be nothing but a pile of ashes right now. Rhaenyra would've burned us all to the ground before I could even take his head."

"She wouldn't have dared!" Elyas shouted back, his face inches from hers, as though she was the most foolish person to live. "The last thing she needs is another war on her hands, especially against us. Her own house is already tearing itself apart!"

"Very well. If you're so smart, what would you have done?" She scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Face the Triarchy and the Greens. We were victors in the First Dornish War, Y/n. We fought then, and we could fight again. We could win."

"You? Fight?" She sneered. "Tell me, when their dragons' flames rain upon our cities, our people, what would you do? Hide behind the walls of our palace? The same walls that would be turned into ashes? Listen to me. We are not made for wars like this, Elyas. We're not prepared to face something as devastating as another Dornish war."

"And that's why we have those people fighting for us!" Elyas retorted, pointing furiously out the window.

"Those people?" she asked in disbelief. "It should be us fighting for them under those circumstances! Do you not care about the lives beyond the confines of this palace?" She turned away, already feeling her tears pooling in her eyes. "No wonder Father doesn't trust you." 

"You both have no clue what you're doing. You're putting our house to shame by trusting the enemy," without warning, he grabbed her injured wrist, yanking her close. She gasped, a sharp pain shooting up her arm, but he didn't relent. "Tell me, sister," he hissed, his face inches from hers. "When this war is over, how will you know they'll keep their word? All those demands you made... you sounded so righteous, so powerful like you had the Targaryens wrapped around your finger. But you know exactly what they think of us. To them, we're nothing but foolish, power-hungry savages," he tightened his grip slightly, causing her to wince again. "And do you know what you've done, dear sister? You just proved them right."

"I'll have your whole arm if you dare lay your hands on me again," she tried to pry her wrist off of him, her voice quivering as her composure began to waver. "You're starting to forget your place, Elyas."

"And you're starting to forget what it truly means to be a Martell," he tightened his grip even more, watching as the Princess sucked a breath in through her teeth. 

Elyas let go of her with a push, making the Princess stumble back on her bed. Y/n massaged her wrist with her other hand as she buried her face in her bed, heaving, and squeezing her eyes shut. She flinched upon hearing Elyas' heavy footsteps leave, the door slamming once he left her chambers.

The Princess slowly got up to pick up the jug of wine lying on the table. Upon finding out it was empty, she flung the jug across the room with a frustrated yell. Her strength gave out, and she collapsed to the ground, burying her face in her hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her sobs filled her chambers. The soft knocks on her door went unanswered; she knew it was Casymir, the one person who could bring her comfort, yet she couldn't bear to let him see her that way. 

Her father's words echoed in her mind. She was destined to be the Princess of Dorne, a role she had fully embraced for as long as she could remember. Yet there she was, crumbling under the pressure, feeling as though every decision she made was beyond her control, burying her deeper into a grave she herself had dug.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thank you for being so patient with me. This chapter was a lot longer than I had expected, but here it is. Let's just take a moment and give our Princess Y/n a big hug, she needs it. I don't know why, but i'm having waaay too much fun making these extremely dramatic dialogues. and I live for their drama, tbh.

I also mentioned this before, but I'm having trouble tagging everyone. Some @'s would tag, but for some reason, some of the usernames just appear like normal text. I've double-checked every username and typed them over and over, but i still can't tag you all. Would be great if you guys could tell me how to fix this!

Taglist: @happinessinthebeing @deltamoon666 @dark1paradise @elz-zalarrr @v0dka4a @yohanseyebrowmole @dracaryxzs @ladyofvelaryon @burningwitchobject @lovelyteenagebeard @radtragedyarcade @dragonrider-3000 @labellapeaky @wintersoldier-101 @hummusxx @vastseamind @miksxz @cornbreadwithcheese @boiolay @op-oppai-blog @hajmola-vs-aamchaska @nichmeddar @ilovemingandming @Mgurl @marr3adsyou @lotus-888 @icarusvshozier

[rafayelsbelovedbride]

Lemurians and the Sea God

As the new branch revealed that Rafayel borrowed the Sea God's powers rather than being the Sea God himself, I want to discuss why the Lemurians needed this power in the first place.

So let's start by summarizing what we know so far, and what these things can imply.

First, Rafayel accepted the Sea God's powers with a price.

Rafayel accepted the Sea God's powers from the tome which had an aether core embedded in it. This implies unlike what was mentioned in the Forgotten Sea, Rafayel is not a god but a vessel for the Sea God's powers. And, he has to pay a price and obey the Sea God's will (the prophecies of tome of the Sea God) for using these powers.

I wonder why there was an aether core fragment in the tome. Did Rafayel receive the power through this aether core? And, was Rafayel drawn to that because he also possesses fragments in his heart, just like MC? Is that why he is the vessel? Can this also explain the strength of their bond that can bring Rafayel back when he was possessed by these powers? Can MC differentiate the frequency of Rafayel's heart and the Sea God's heart when she resonates? Does that mean there is a little difference between all the aether core fragments?

Rafayel and the Sea God are different entities as Rafayel can lose his control to the Sea God.

I think there is a reason why Rafeyel described the tome of the Sea God as the island's cornerstone that bore the weight of Lemuria's past and future. I think the original Sea God (maybe the first Sea God) was the core of the planet. The same core that was described to be empty and had long been exhausted in the Shooting Stars myth, which probably belongs to a timeline after Rafayel's and the last Sea God's death.

I think the Lemurians used the Sea God's power as a supply for the earth's core the same way the king of Philos wanted to use the aether core of MC.

Maybe many years ago, this whole thing started with Lemurians asking for a god's help when they faced with the fact that the earth's core was dying. And, the god accepted their prayers and made a vessel so that it could come down to earth and use its powers to keep the planet alive a little while longer.

This power is described as a great "flame" that has burned in Whalefall City's temple for thousands of years. And without it, the Lemurians are said to transform into hideous beasts. (wanderers?)

Also, I wonder if the vessels were created by the god from an aether core fragment. And to be able to inherit the Sea God's powers, their aether core needed to have a certain level of strength that could carry the Sea God, otherwise, the vessel would shatter when it was filled with its powers. And that's what the prophecy refers to. The vessels must increase their strength before they can fully inherit the Sea God's powers.

Rafayel was born in flames and he needs his most devoted follower's heart to gain strength. Also, when MC first met him, Rafayel said "You awakened me."

In Rafayel's case, he has to do it by getting MC's heart. I think the prophecy is a little misleading here. I think MC does not have to give her heart because she is the most devoted follower. Instead, I think she has to do that because the vessel needs the aether core's energy, that MC already possesses, to carry the Sea God's power. Prophecy refers to MC like that because that's just something that describes who MC is. There could have been no other devoted follower of the Sea God.

In addition to that, he then gave his own heart to MC, increasing the power of MC's aether core when he's supposed to do the opposite. And that's why, when they look at the tome in Sea of Golden Sand, the prophecy changes to "to take back what he's lost the God of the Sea must kill his beloved".

Also, I find it interesting that Rafayel said you awakened me when they first met. As Rafayel was said to be trapped in a place with very strong currents just like the blue hole where the tome of the Sea God resides, I think we can assume that this is the place where MC first found him. So, I wonder if Rafayel was awakened because he felt the power from MC's heart, the same heart that he needs to enhance his strength to become the Sea God in the future. I also wonder if MC found Rafayel that day because she was also drawn to his aether core by her heart.

Rafayel rewrote the tome of the Sea God and choose to burn away.

But Rafayel has never taken MC's heart. So he never fully inherited the Sea God's power to keep the flame alight and the earth's core stable. Instead, he rewrote the tome and gave away his life to keep the core intact for a while longer. And that is why he is the last Sea God. And when the energy he gave to the earth's core was exhausted at some point, the heart of Philos remained empty after him.

The heart of Philos is empty and hungry for energy. This energy can be supplied by ordinary human life or by the MC's aether core.

And that's how I connect Lemuria and Philos. I think in the beginning, Lemurians were the ones being fed into the planet's core and turn into wanderers until they found a way to inherit the Sea God's powers and use the aether core for the same purpose. But then Rafayel broke this deal with the Sea God and left the earth's core empty again until the core started to feed on people of Philos. To prevent this, the king of Philos decided to use MC and her aether core again.

So, in the end, even though Rafayel sacrificed his life to take MC's place, his sacrifice was not enough to keep her safe. And this is a very sad story.

[snvffsoda]

some random/silly headcanons for Fox!!

highly experienced knife fighter, and knows basic hand-to-hand combat with or without a karambit, don’t let his height and age fool you, years of using his wits and his strengths to his benefit have gotten him not only far in life but many many, many, victims nowadays he doesn't even need to do all the hard work, he can just point at whoever he wants to brutalize on his next stream and they're there, but his skills are no laughing matter, many have tried to fight back taking his height and age as a means to overpower him and while in very rare cases strength has won over skill (which is why he uses guards now) it usually ends with the victim being clawed out or unconscious by the end of it

locked away, in an old safe somewhere, ren still keeps strades old button up he just can't..let it go, no matter how hard he tries he hates the man, what he's done to him, the lies he fooled Ren into the belief that his torture was to become deeper, to have a bond no other could have, Ren knows to know it was just strades own selfish desires and its those desires that got him killed, he knows better to admire the man, but..even now, when he’ll sit in his penthouse and wonder, what could've been, he thinks if Strade would be proud of him, if he could see him now.

the reason he hasn't been streaming much as of late anymore is well, he's getting older. Don't get him wrong, he loves the thrill of it all! excitedly asking his chat and bidders questions to the highest seller like a twisted game of family feud, the blood rush he gets when he saws off the leg of a victim, or slices their throat all for the eyes of his viewers to see, he loves the thrill, the hunt, but sometimes, as much as he plans his schedules, and outfits, and ideas of torture, most days, he wants to enjoy the quiet, the sound of his favorite anime playing slowly while sipping coffee, the fun of taking a vacation simply because he can and he feels like it, he knows it's stale and boring but he likes it, and hopes eventually he can take some well deserved time for himself

always on time and on schedule with anything, and everything meetings, streams, handling his guards around, food, and doesn't like changing his schedule (he's a busy man) he doesn't like when he's late to something at all, or when someone else is, and will get irritated if someone or something, gets in the way of that, whether it be as simple as a scheduled limo being late, or a meeting that was postponed

even at the ripe old age of 47 (which he still denies being old) he still has amazing hygiene and grooming routines, but now he has the luxury of a hell of a lot more money than he did when he was younger, so his tail and hair is on a whole other level of soft, even when he isn't trying to, he's been told by not only his associates but his closer allies that being his guards that he always smells nice, never a smelly day for the fox, unless he gets too excited with a stream or two that is, then maybe with all the blood, and bile that gets spilled on him, he may not smell the best,

if he likes you, and keeps you to himself, he’ll spoil you rotten, whatever it is you want or desire he will make sure it's handled and given with care and affection, of course, some nights he may ask you to dress up for him, or maybe he’d bring his knife to the equation in sex or foreplay (he loves the way you bleed) but he's always sweet and comforting about it, sure you may see him be stressed due to a scheduling error, or his chat not being as active as they were a day before, but he always has a soft spot for you, even if he's angry.

loves rambling about his favorite anime to you and his affection towards the style of art as a whole, he loves just being able to be silly, watch his eyes light up as he talks about the newest episode of his anime and how he can't believe that character betrayed who and how much he loves this character, he's a weeb at heart, even now, and he accepts it, and is very passionate about it

has contemplated starting a separate gaming stream before, but knows that his type of content wouldnt work since it would be hard for a viewer to sped 1,000 dolars to see him gouge someone's eye out and then 2 minutes later that same viewer seeing Fox play genshin Impact, though he wishes he could just do it once in and while alas, he usually plays his games when off streams usually, but will occasionally forget to close them and it'll be left it on in the background while he does his snuff streams, the sound of peaceful anime tunes playing just subtly in the background for any eagle-eyed viewer of his streams to notice

since his job constantly has him being extroverted and charismatic to keep viewers and bidders entertained, when he's not working he is actually pretty quiet most times, of course, he’ll laugh and smile, and be joyful, he just naturally is, but there's definitely a noticeable switch in his personality when the cameras are on and when they're off, he just seems quieter, more likely to hum in response pleasantly to someone rather than give them a barking laugh with a smile, not that he's sad, he's just ‘recharging his social battery’ as he likes to put it

has an extremely keen scent and can recognize almost everyone he knows from their scent alone so if he's ever blindfolded (he could be for any number of reasons) his senses heighten even more and he can smell things perfectly and stronger, and when eating something really good that being his favorite raw meats or culinary dishes, his eyes will pinpoint and glow in excitement from the flavors and texture he can't help it when he does, and he’ll tend to make more animalistic growling feral sounds when he's eating something he REALLY LIKES whether that be chicken hearts, or your actual heart <3

[codacheetah]

Hey, so, the dagger conversation, right?

You know the one. You loop with tears 20+ times, Loop goes "haha tears so annoying right!" and then you pester Loop about being able to kill yourself with your dagger until. They get possessed.

Yeah, so, uh. Loop getting possessed. Why is that? What takes hold of them in this moment, and why is it now that Loop defying Siffrin is met with such severe pushback?

I think Siffrin accidentally bound Loop with a wish, in which they were forced to give Siffrin "permission" to use the dagger in order to fulfill the wish's conditions. (Explanation under cut.)

So. Wishes. What do we know about them? Well, we know that Wish Craft requires a combination of ritual and intent to perform. You must have a strong desire, and for this desire to reach the Universe, you have to perform some kind of action that opens the line of communication. We... don't know, fully, what rituals exist, but we do know that a significant part of Wish Craft rituals is repetition of certain numbers, one of which being three.

Now let's consider the dagger conversation. Loop asks Siffrin if they're annoyed yet, having to find a Tear every time they want to loop, before saying there's no faster way. You then have the option of agreeing, or mentioning your dagger. If you keep pushing, Loop gets angry and tells Siffrin that they don't want him to use the dagger. Something important to note about the following text choices is that, up until the third time you insist on using your dagger, you have the option to back out.

And then the third time. Loop gets angry at Siffrin for pushing the issue, and Siffrin replies "And who are you to tell me what to do?!" Loop tries to say something, before...

Loop gets possessed. Siffrin repeats his intent to do something (in this case, use his dagger to kill himself) three times, and Loop, on the third instance, suddenly loses the ability to defy Siffrin on the matter.

Recall the "SAY ITS NAME" sequence with the King. Siffrin and the King attempt to say the Island's name, violating whatever wish has its hold on the Island, and suffer physical injuries (to the point of death!) for doing this. Loop tries to rebuke Siffrin, and they experience sudden pain. And then... they loop. We know, because of the twohats fight, that Loop has the capability to loop independently of Siffrin. I believe that's what happened here, as well. They then are possessed, giving Siffrin "permission" to use the dagger, before looping once more.

It's just. I really don't know how to explain what happened to Loop without attributing it to Wish Craft.

Universe stuff indeed.

There is, of course, the question of "hey if Wish Craft can just Do That then isn't it likely that you could just force people to do whatever you want?!"

Well. I don't think that's likely. Remember Loop's role. They're here to help Siffrin. It's part of their own wish. And what constitutes helping Siffrin? Guiding them to keys, pointing out dead ends, giving you tutorials.

We know that combined wishes can have incredible levels of power. See: the timeloops.

It of course goes without saying that I sincerely doubt Siffrin would ever purposefully force Loop into this position, even at their worst. It's just not something he would do. We know Siffrin uses Wish Craft somewhat liberally and unconsciously, even within the loops, making a wish for strength/power/speed at the Change God statue, sharpening the KeyKnife. However, Wish Craft is... deeply caked in the general concept of "unintended consequences." I wouldn't put "violently taking over your mind and body" above the Universe.

TLDR; Siffrin holds the desire of "let me use my dagger" and accidentally Crafts it into a wish through the use of ritual (repetition 3 times). Loop is subject to "help" Siffrin, and through defying this role, they violate the conditions of Siffrin's wish. In response to Loop looping back to avoid physical injury/death, the Universe commands Loop's vessel to force the wish's conditions to be fulfilled in the most "direct" way possible.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Helloo !! ^^ Its me again ahaha 🙈

Feeling you with the number of RQs ! (': i have a lot of unfinished ones too, and I FEEL SO JORRIVLE FOR SENDING ONE in knowing that💔💔😭😭😭😭😭😭, but this has been in the forefront of my mind 😵‍💫. Please don't feel pressured to respond! 🫣 I won't blame you if you'd rather not to ☺️🙌//

...

Yandere Outlaw, having abducted reader, not at all having had anticipated the strength of their connections.

While reader isn't necessarily strong themselves, they have a strong family, a line of uncles and brothers that are feared across the West for their brutality, their violence, and most notably, their loyalty. This is especially jarring given that reader is the youngest in the family, so of course they would be overprotective over them, as weren't they just the baby of the family, their sweet lil pumpkin?

It's why they are second only to Outlaw himself in terms of criminality, notorious instead, however for how they are willing to kill for blood feud, and to wreak havoc in a bid to avenge anyone that crossed the path of their family member(s).

Now picture this: having heard of reader's abduction, to describe their reaction as fury, rage, even wrath, would all be an understatement. They would be getting together, coordinating a plan, and intending to shoot the damn bastard dead, as scum like him should pay for messing with the wrooong criminals.

Now this brings me to my question: what would Outlaw's reaction be to waking up one day to see not a trace of their darling, their hostage rescued by their cowboy brothers and uncles? (Or something more creative than this,, ^^"" ", i doubt that theyd leave him with lungs and eyes, let alone ALIVE after locating his whereabouts and saving their sweet lil pumpkin, thw baby of the family. My imagination can only take me so far an idk 😓💔)

Would Outlaw go after each individual member of the family down, on a furious witch-hunt in a bid to rescue their darling? After all, Outlaw has been on countless raids riding solo with nothing aside from a horse and his trusty shotgun, became infamous for being the West's deadliest gunslinger, has eliminated the wealthiest businessmen and robbed them of all their money, and made a career out of being a criminal.

Or would he accept defeat? This is clearly not a family to mess with, and it was a miracle that they hadn't put his beheaded head on a stake and set it on fire, condemnimg his corpse. He'd have to be a fool to risk this, wouldn't he? Was reader, his darling, really worth that risk?

Would love to hear your thoughts ! ☺️💞

ALSO SORRU FOE THE REALLY LONG ASKS I FEEL SO BAD BC I GDT CARRIED AWAY JDJSJAJAJASSS 😭😭🙏 PLS FORGIVR ME AAAAAAARRHEHSS

My sweet Anon, we simply must find a name for you ! Your ideas cannot go without an identity to which we can attribute their creation ^^. Thank you so much for sharing your wonderful mind with us <3 !

♡ This occurrence is very in-character for the Outlaw to encounter; albeit never on such an intimate level.

♡ He’s made enemies out of every criminal in the West – namely for resigning them to a life imprisoned while making off with his loot, gifting them a sentence he’d have served himself were he not so adept at the skill of escapism. In the early days when he first started working with other criminals, at least; he’d never make such a mistake now.

♡ You see, the Outlaw is the very definition of work smarter, not harder. So while he may seem as if he’s given up his pursual of you by hanging back, letting you go back to your family and re-integrate with civilised life, he’s tracking you. Watching you. Anticipating your every move.

♡ He’ll find you – eventually – but he won’t swoop in to retrieve you at the first opportunity; he knows that this will simply incur another rescue effort and his imminent execution.

♡ He’ll start to pick off the male authority figures in your family, starting with the weakest (however large and imposing they may be). 

♡ He knows that, without the leader, the pack will scatter, meaning that there will still be some of your family he missed during his executions – members who could still come looking for you upon discovering your kidnapping (again).

♡ Sure, picking off the weakest ones will put the strongest on-edge, but it keeps them packed together – around you – right where he wants them.

♡ The Outlaw knows of the Reader’s family’s reputation. He’s even met them during the occasional heist; opportunists by trade in their willingness to jump upon the corpse of the Outlaw’s victories as soon as his back is turned. But he also knows none are as keen and accurate a marksman as he, and he uses this to his advantage.

♡ While the Outlaw specialises in short-range firearms, he is more than capable with long-distance ones, too. And, once he lures your protectors away from you, he’ll ensure their execution is swift and unforeseen. He’ll perch atop a sturdy tree branch and steady himself, bringing the head of whoever fell for his diversion into the sights of a Whitworth he dusted off and brought from home.

♡ The minute he knows you’re all alone – that your uncles and brothers and cousins are too busy painting the town red with their bodies to stow you away – is when he’ll swoop in, plucking you out of bed and slinging you over his shoulder as he had all those months ago during your first meeting, winding you as he throws you atop his horse and bolting off into the horizon.

♡ So, to put it simply, Anon: yes. To the Outlaw, you are absolutely worth the effort.

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account

[moondirti]

I’m so down bad for Ghost 😭 imagine one day he catches on to the things his voice does to you, he’s talking to you one day and noticed the way you suddenly get tense the moment he praises you and then he takes it and runs with it, absolutely cocky at the fact he can ruin you without even touching you

Every time I hear a voice line or watch a cutscene with him, I get weak 😭 god just kill me pls

i listen to his voice lines to help me go to sleep at night. something about that accent, man

Ghost is not a verbal man. He's best known for his strength, brutal efficiency - that cutthroat quick thinking in moments that mean life or death. In the rare instances that his words don't form barked commands or interrogative jabs, he finds that they come out... awkward sounding. Like the consonants don't meld with the vowels, and two syllables make one. Praise, whispered nothings, affection; tender proclamations fit like kernels in the gaps between his teeth. He's just never had anyone to model it for him.

The most he gives you is a nod, a low grunt of approval when you pitch in with helpful insight during a debriefing. But for all his faults, he is nothing if not observant. Ghost picks up on the subtle hitch of your breath, the glossy sheen over your eyes that glints as you perk at the reinforcement. He's not dumb, either - he knows what it means. The rookie's got it bad; either for him, for his voice, or maybe just for any validation you can get your hands on.

It's not purposeful. At least, he doesn't intend to feed into your little secret. But it finds its way into his treatment of you, like a fixture gnawing on an ego he's tried to conceal eons ago. He hums contemplatively as you speak, echoes your advice as demand, even goes to the unprecedented extent of clipping out a husky 'good' when you hit a target right on the mark. He isn't just doing it to sate you. You're genuinely intelligent, and skilled, and absolutely fucking gorgeous when you try to hide your delighted grin behind a trembling hand.

So perhaps it's perversion. Perhaps he's an deeply disturbed individual who revels in the fact that a person as brilliant as you has likely never been told as much. He doesn't have it in him to care. It's his own little game, a whim to pass the time between gunfire and detonations.

That is, until everyone else starts to notice.

Because of course they do. Ghost rarely ever spoke before you, let alone gave out consistent praise. Consequently, they take it upon themselves to assume shit for it, crafting increasingly ridiculous rumours that put both you and him into question. It manages to inspire an acrid emotion inside him, a mix of unbridled anger and violence that has him seeing bright red. He shuts them down before they gain any traction, looming over officers who think they're being discreet. It's no wonder that, quicker than it happened, the gossip stops.

You're still outcast, though. Jealousy is a vile thing.

But it only means he has a larger chance to get you alone. And when he does?

"Chin up, sergeant. You're at a level they can never hope to reach."

The image of your parted lips sears itself onto the back of his eyelids. He looks for it in his most shameful points, a hand wrapped around his thick length as water beats down his back.

[cherrybomb107]

I see people saying that Silco ultimately had Zaun’s best interests at heart, but I disagree. I think HE definitely thinks that, but at the end of the day, actions speak louder than words. Silco didn’t act like a revolutionary. He acted like a wannabe Piltie who disguised his rhetoric with vague plans of rebellion and monologues 😭😭😭

Disclaimer: I love Silco! He’s one of my favorite characters in Arcane and I think he was a fabulous villain. Not quite THE big bad(that title is reserved for the institution of Piltover and its apathy and downright callousness towards the Undercity) but he was definitely a villain at the end of the day. No amount of “nuance” or “character complexity” is gonna erase that

Let’s start with the obvious: the fact that he fully planned on killing Powder before she launched herself into his arms and he realized how similar they were. I’m sorry, but in my mind, no one who’s willing to kill children is a revolutionary. Sorry. 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️Only reason why he didn’t is because he saw himself in her. If he truly believed in revolution, he could’ve done youth outreach programs to get young people involved in protests, and given them classes on what to do/how to prepare for when the enforcers show up to shut them down. That’s a real thing that’s been done before btw. I know Arcane is fiction, but it deals with politics that mirror our real world struggles. If Silco actually backed up his claims of wanting freedom for Zaun, he’d do things like this.

To continue this, the creation of Shimmer. Silco claims it’s needed in order to give Zaunites the strength they need to fight back against Piltover. Which, again, I’m sure he believes that, but come on. Creating a monopoly on a highly addictive drug that permanently disfigures its users when they take too much is not the way to go about it. Modeling the capitalist system of Piltover is ultimately not going to help. Shimmer does make people feel empowered, yes. But that empowered feeling doesn’t last long, and when you come down from your high, all you want is more, more, more. So where does that leave you?

It leads you to living out on the streets, willing to do anything for your next hit. That’s what happened to Huck, and we don’t even know how many others. Silco never once expressed concern for the wellbeing of the addicts that he created! What kind of revolutionary would toss his own people to the side when they’re no longer useful to him?

Speaking of the drugs, why does he have children working in his factories? Now, child labor is a very complex issue. I’m from the States, so we’re generally (or we claim to be anyway) against child labor. In other countries however, children not only work, but they protest and fight for their right to work. They take pride in their work. So I don’t want to debate the morality of child labor. I wanted to bring it up for the sake of the argument. Let’s say that child labor is a cultural norm in the Undercity. That brings me back to my original question: why does Silco have kids working in his factories? Child labor isn’t the issue; it’s the kind of labor they’re doing and the level of danger they could be in. What kinds of things are the kids that work in Silco’s factories responsible for? Do they get equal pay to their adult counterparts? Worker’s comp if something happens/they get injured on the job? Are there even protections in place so that there are little to no injuries? These are questions which we can’t even begin to answer, because Silco never brings it up!

He never talks about the ways in which he sets out to improve not just the lives of child laborers in Zaun, their adult counterparts, or people in Zaun, period! He only ever talks about “the nation of Zaun” in the abstract. Never once does he sit down and ask himself if this is the best way to go about it. I’m pro revolution. I absolutely believe that the people of Zaun have the right to fight back against their oppressors. But, with the way Silco was acting, he functionally became another oppressor.

Let’s say he was able to make a deal with Jayce and secure the Undercity’s freedom without having to sacrifice Jinx. What would that even look like? What does Silco know about running a government? How would he address the population of Shimmer addicts he manufactured? You can’t just get rid of/stop the production of Shimmer and leave those people without support! It’s true that the air was cleaner under Silco’s reign. But “cleaner” is the operative word. Doesn’t mean it was completely clean. And if people in Zaun didn’t even have clean air, who’s to say they had access to clean water and good food? Did Silco ever do anything to address those issues or did he, along with the rest of the chembarons, acquire enough capital to tell working class and underprivileged Zaunites “fuck you, I got mine”?

To summarize, Silco SAYS he wants freedom from Piltover’s oppression. He SAYS he wants to give his people the power to fight back. But actions speak louder than words. I can’t think of a single action that Silco took that benefited anyone outside of him and those closest to him. Realistically speaking he would have been a terrible leader for Zaun, and it all would’ve fallen apart when he died/was killed for his lack of leadership skills. It was only a matter of time imo.

Did he ever truly want to remove the boot from the Undercity’s neck? Or did he just want to be the one wearing it? I’m leaning towards the latter. But maybe that’s just me.

[obwjam]

a small surprise part 4 (gravity falls g/t)

back with a new chapter!! parts 1 • 2 • 3

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The fist came down at an alarming speed, like it had materialized out of thin air. Jay was thrown backwards, and her head instantly smacked against the table, causing stars to pop in and out of her vision. The only thing she could hear was a faint, dull static, like her brain was a television that wasn’t getting a signal. Her heart was pounding so fast she thought it would break through her chest. She didn’t have the strength to push herself to her feet. All of her limbs felt like they were paralyzed.

“Shit!” Stan yelled. Oh, he instantly regretted it. He didn’t even realize what was happening until his fist had already connected with the table. His subconscious must have saved him from actually touching her, but he got pretty damn close. He blinked, blinked again, and fully realized he almost just killed somebody. 

Again.

“Oh, god, kid, are you alright?” He bent down, putting himself at eye level with the writhing tiny. “Kid? I’m sorry, I didn’t — I wasn’t tryin’ to hurt you, I just — got carried away, that’s all!” She wasn’t responding, so he began to reach his hand out toward her, ready to nudge her back to reality. 

“DON’T!” she screamed, louder than anything he’d ever heard before. She managed to scramble farther away from him. “PLEASE! I–I’M SORRY – I WON’T – P-PLEASE! Don’t…”

Stan’s expression shifted. He knew what this was. She was begging for her life. Something had switched inside of her. Something Stan was not expecting. His hands were shaking, and he was unsure what to do with them. He hovered awkwardly, watching, before realizing that he suddenly felt grossly uncomfortable looming over her. The sheer force of his fist caused her to fall over. She was barely as tall as it. Stan could pinch her between his fingers and never feel the weight. She was miniscule. How was any of this real?

Jay was too busy rolling in pain to notice, but Stan sat in total silence for 10 minutes, his mind racing to figure out what to do next. Maybe Poindexter has some kind of cheat sheet on her somewhere. Maybe all those secret codes were about her and he didn’t want her to read them. How does she even read, anyway? The letters must look huge. Focus, Stan, focus. Maybe she needs some water? But I don't want to move right now. I could just ask her. But I don’t want to talk again. My voice might shatter her eardrums.

Eventually, Jay came to. She had shut her eyes tight for a while, hoping the pain would melt away on its own. Soon enough, it did, but even with her senses thrown off, the feeling of being loomed over was incredibly persistent. She didn’t want to see Stan, so gigantic and destructive, towering over her after he just tried to murder her. And she certainly didn’t want to hear his smarmy jokes about her begging for her life – the embarrassment of that was beginning to hit her hard. How could she even be in the same room as him ever again, knowing she had become the helpless, controllable little thing he so clearly saw her as?

Stan, trying to stay patient and silent, was only increasing Jay’s anxiety more. Why was he just… sitting still? She dared to take a peek and only saw Stan’s massive elbows pressing on the tabletop, his torso so big it looked more like an endless wall. She wasn’t prepared to hear him speak.

“Look, kid, I–”

But he stopped as soon as her eyes met his. The shock of her expression sucked all the air from his lungs. Her face was red and puffy, her eyes burning from tears. She was staring at him in horror, like he was some kind of – some kind of monster. Someone who acts so callously toward other people’s feelings and needs. A killer. Now’s not the time for this! But Stan’s mind wouldn’t let him rest. Not even as his hand twitched in his lap, unable to stay still. He jumped when she jumped; he had no idea how she was able to pick up on that movement. Disoriented and filled with anxiety, Jay slowly scrambled backwards until she found a stack of books to dive behind for cover. Stan just watched. There was nothing he could do.

Jay pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. Not being able to see Stan’s movements was probably a bad thing, but she couldn’t bear to be in his line of sight right now. She hadn’t cowered like this since first meeting Ford, and it all felt so eerily similar. Stan was just like Ford in as many ways as they differed – even if they didn’t share a face, she would be able to suss out their relation to each other. They both had this air of unpredictability and superiority, and Jay was now twice caught in the crosshairs. She had to get her hook. She had to get out of here. She had to…

Stan felt sick, just as he did in this very basement a week ago. It had been so long since he actually interacted with people, and he found that a lot of his survival instincts he prided himself on were not transferable to the real world; or even to tiny little people in the real world. Why did he think he needed to use violence to assert himself over someone as tall as a golf pencil? Why did she react so scared this time? Probably because you almost killed her. But nobody ever took him seriously. Why did she have to be different?

Stan sucked in a breath. Quit it, Stan. You can’t be doing this. But if he kept sitting there and staring at the books, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Fine. Then go work on the portal. Go be useful for once in your life.

It took Jay a while to notice he had left. She was too busy trying to stop her hands from shaking, and it took everything in her not to black out again from how fast the blood was rushing through her body. The sound of her own hyperventilating snapped her back to reality. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t even have any thoughts going through her head. It was completely, totally silent. She wasn’t even sure she could remember what words to use. But she eventually noticed that the vibe in the room had shifted considerably. The silence had become eerie, and the suffocating feeling was largely gone, replaced by an anxious panic. She hoped her senses weren’t betraying her, but a quick, subtle peek around the books confirmed that Stan was no longer sitting at the table, waiting for her to come out. She couldn’t see through the window, but a lot of clanging and a lot of cursing confirmed Stan had gone to work in the portal room.

Jay took the opportunity to finally stand up. She needed to grip the spine of the books to pull herself up because her legs were completely drained of energy. In a moment of panic, she thought she was maybe paralyzed from the incident, but she was able to take a few shaky steps. She blinked as her brain oriented itself, her eyes stinging, her world still turning. She didn’t quite understand why Stan had left the room, but she didn’t care. The only thing her brain had the capacity for right now was escape.

She stumbled over to her hooks, which were still woefully incomplete. Fuck it, she thought, wiping the sweat off her hands, I’ll just slide down the table leg – link these together, she managed to hook one piece of bent metal around the other with her trembling hands, then use this, she picked up, dropped, and picked up again what she had tied together for rope, and I’ll just wrap it around myself, and I can – I can – I just need –

Jay tried her best to assemble something that could get her safely down from the metal table, but she was trembling so hard that she could barely keep the hooks from slipping from her grip. And the more time she took, the more she panicked, and the more mistakes she made. The risk from falling from such a great height couldn’t be any worse than seeing Stan again. She had to hurry, quick, before he—

The stinging sound of scraping metal made Jay freeze so fast she could feel her blood turn cold. She was too numb to turn around, but having her back to him was even more terrifying. She slowly turned around, gripping her hooks so tight she thought she’d crush them.

Stan gaped back, eyes wide. It felt like he glitched temporarily before getting his ability to speak back. “Oh. You’re still here.”

She shrunk back, whimpering a bit and putting her hands in front of her chest in a protective position, tightening her white-knuckle grip on the hooks. She didn’t dare move an inch.

To her surprise, Stan, very slowly, lifted his hands up placatingly. “Don’t worry,” was all he managed to say in a scratchy, hoarse voice that barely sounded like his.

Jay couldn’t budge even if she wanted to. She was frozen.

“Oh. I see. The, uh, metal things,” Stan said clumsily, nudging his head at her hooks. “Yeah, I don’t blame you. I’d want to get out of my sight if I were you, too.”

Jay knitted her eyebrows. This was not the tone of voice she expected from him.

“Look, I didn’t – I didn’t mean to – I’m – I’m sorry, Jay,” he stumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Her heart skipped a beat when he actually said her name. “You probably won’t forgive me, and that’s alright, I don’t deserve it. It’s just – my life hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park. I don’t always… handle things the best,” he said, sounding profoundly embarrassed at admitting such a thing. “Never have, and I guess I never will. I’m just the Pines family screw-up.”

Jay arched an eyebrow. Her mind was telling her this was all an act – a pity party to draw her back in so he could do something awful. But her gut kept asking one thing: Why would he need to do that?

After a few tense moments, Jay lowered her hands and loosened her hold on the hooks. Stan, taking this as a sign of trust, slowly sat down, pushing the stool back a bit to put some distance between them. Now Jay felt comfortable enough to inch backwards until her back hit the stack of books. She didn’t even blink, in case Stan did something again.

“I know Poin–uh, Ford didn’t tell you anything about me,” he began, wringing his hands together, “but I, uh, don’t exactly have the most admirable past.” He took a deep breath. Why was this so hard? “I’ve had to do a lot of lying, a lot of stealing, just to scrape by. I lived out of my car for a while. Hah, I don’t even know how Ford tracked down the motel room I was staying in to send me that postcard.” He stole a glance at Jay, who wore the same skeptical look on her face. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s been a while since I’ve had… company. Or been around people who weren’t convicted felons. And when I came here, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else but Ford. And I sure as hell wasn’t expecting anyone three inches tall. So I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is, I just… need to remember how to act normal again.”

Jay was floored. The depth of sorrow in his voice was something she didn’t think a human was capable of. And as freaked out as she was, she could clearly see this was an attempt to reach out to her, to offer an olive branch without having to keep apologizing and reminding himself of the terrible thing he’d just done. He acted impulsively, and he knew it. Even after what he just did, he was making the effort to at least try and patch it up.

Ford did the exact same thing.

“I, uhm, I can relate. Kind of.” 

Stan’s eyes lit up for the briefest of moments at the sound of her voice. He didn’t think that would actually work. 

“Uhm..” Jay had to pause. This all felt so foreign to say. She had never related to a human about anything. “About the stealing part. And the not being used to company part.” Stan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Jay sighed. Was she really about to do this?

“I’ve told you a bit about… borrower stuff,” she said, keeping it vague in the hopes that he forgot most of it. “A huge part of the lifestyle – probably the biggest part, really – is the… stealing from humans part.” She gave Stan a chance to insert a witty remark, but he stayed silent. “We basically take anything and everything we can get while they’re not looking. Food, supplies… whatever we can get our hands on. And it gets pretty lonely, because most of us – we travel in small groups, or pairs. It’s not safe to be in a big group. I’ve…” She debated if she wanted to say this, but judging from the small tidbits Stan had revealed, she guessed it wouldn’t be so embarrassing to him. “I’ve been on my own for a while. It’s – well, it’s hard to remember times with other borrowers. I could go weeks without speaking, and it – it would have been normal. This… this is all pretty new to me, too.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s new to me. I know how to handle myself,” Stan interjected, immediately regretting his defensive tone when he saw her exasperated expression. “I mean… that sounds like it was really tough on you.”

Jay huffed a laugh. “Yeah. It was.”

There was an awkward silence as both of them tried to figure out what to say next. Stan was remorseful, and a little freaked out, but he just wanted to feel okay with himself as quickly as possible. He could barely handle the nervous side-eye she was giving him right now, and he wasn’t even doing anything.

“Look, uh, you don’t have t’be scared of me, okay? I did somethin’ stupid, I know I did. I shouldn't have tried to – it was just a reaction. I’m used to havin’ to punch my way outta situations. Sometimes I forget how… tiny you are.” Jay felt her stomach sink at the direct call-out to her size, and she shrank even more as Stan peered at her. “Like, I could breathe on you and hurt you.”

Jay crossed her arms. “Yeah, okay, I get it. Weak and helpless.”

“Well, you’re a pipsqueak, that’s for sure,” Stan said callously before shaking his head. “But no, you – that’s not it, I just – I know this is weird for you, but come on, you gotta admit it’s even weirder for me. Up until a week ago, I didn’t even know something like you even existed. Now I’m talkin’ to a person who can fit in my hand, and you… you’ve been hangin’ around Ford for months. I’m just a… different version of him.” A stupider, worse version of him.

Jay thought about it for a moment. She hated to admit it, but he did have a point. Stan wasn’t the first giant she’s ever dealt with, but she was his first tiny. And he just lost his brother after not seeing him for a long, long time. That was a lot to deal with. She didn’t really know what Stan had been through, but judging from the way he spoke about it… it didn’t seem normal by human standards.

“...I know,” Jay said quietly, sheepishly, but Stan still heard. “And I’m… sorry, for riling you up. I said those things to make myself feel better, because – you may think I have this superiority complex thing, but I mean, how else am I supposed to compete? You… Ford, Fidds, you guys are gigantic. You can do things I can only dream of doing. Hell, you do things I can only dream of without even thinking about it. It’s… hard not to feel worthless in comparison. It’s hard to feel like I even matter.”

Jay immediately flushed red. Why on earth did she just say that? Why was she confiding in Stan? She was saying things she had never even told Ford. This is so embarrassing. He doesn’t care! He doesn’t have sympathy for you! 

But to Jay’s surprise, Stan didn’t laugh at her or make another joke about her size. Instead, he sighed. “Trust me. I know how that feels.” Jay’s look of pure surprise and skepticism told Stan he needed to elaborate. “You only knew my brother for a couplea months, but I spent my entire life with the guy. I grew up in Ford’s shadow. He was the smarty pants know-it-all twin, and I was the trouble-making, dumb twin. My folks cared more about Ford’s homework than whatever I was doing.” Stan stopped himself. The last thing he wanted to do right now was relive this. Why was he even saying this to her? “Hah. Looks like we’re more alike than we thought, pipsqueak.”

Jay crossed her arms. “Woah, let’s not get crazy now,” she said, slightly defensive. But her small smile betrayed her. Stan smiled in return.

“Hah, right.”

Stan rubbed the back of his neck, and after a few seconds of silence, he stood up, ready to leave and be done with this. He said his apology – he said more than he wanted to, in fact – and that was more than enough. The exhaustion was clearly getting to him. He’d slept maybe a total of 10 hours over the past five days. Yeah, that was it. He was just tired, not thinking straight. He needed a good night’s sleep. Maybe a day’s break from code-cracking and journal reading and tiny little people who could sit in his palm would do him some good.

He made his way toward the exit, but stopped at the threshold. Something was nagging at him, and he needed a clear head.

“You, uh… you gonna be alright, kid?”

Jay’s eyes lingered on Stan. Her heartbeat still felt elevated, her breath hitching every time his fingers twitched as he wrung his hands together. The thought of being picked up by him again made her head start rocking. It took everything she had to look up at him, and even then, she could only hold her gaze for a few seconds before the bile started to rise to her throat. She had to take a few concentrated breaths once she realized her breathing was still shaky.

“Yeah,” she said finally. She wasn’t sure how much she meant it.

“Okay,” Stan replied. He wasn’t sure how much he believed her.

Stan stood for a few moments, sorting through his feelings. Nothing about this felt real. It was all happening so fast. But he would go to sleep tonight and wake up in the morning and she’d still be here while Ford was gone. Just like it had been for the last week. Just like it was probably going to be for the foreseeable future. It was stupid, and unfair. But Stan was used to unfair.

He found himself staring, still unable to process how he could barely make out her form among the clutter of the table. If he didn’t know she was there, he wouldn’t have noticed her. He hated how much that freaked him out.

Ugh.

“I, uh, I guess I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

Jay stared straight ahead, then down to the table. Her hooks sat on either side of her. She had tied up enough rope. She had thought everything out. She knew the way out.

But then she looked back up. Stan leaned on the doorframe, hands in his pockets, his expression cautious, his eyes hopeful. He regarded her with curiosity, not disdain. He was waiting for an answer. She let out a long, deep sigh.

“Yeah, Stanley. I’ll see you in the morning.”

[a-i-ngels]

Devastation

‼️‼️Non/con‼️‼️

sukuna x reader, implied geto x reader (major character deaths from shibuya arc mentioned!) This was an emotional Rollercoaster that just kept crashing so be warned!

I didn't proof read.

You stood there hiding in shock.

The scene before you making you tremble as you tried not to be seen by the man who stood there. Your face in absolute horror, eyes beginning to water as you gasped at the events that folded infront of you.

Your adopted girls, the ones you raised with the man you stood by since his death some years ago. Your precious girls, now lay dead infront of you. You stifled a cry for them as the man who did it just stood there, looking at their bodies as he held the device in his hand. You slowly trying to regain strength to carry yourself as he walked away. Not coming out until you didn't hear any movement anymore.

You carefully walked towards your girls, knees and body shaking as you approached them in a heap infront of you as you moved towards them. Shoes eventually stepping in their blood as you dropped, just a few inches away. Body shaking as your anguish finally let out. You sobbed and sobbed as you cried out their names, totally hysteric as you did. The feeling all to familiar to you when you did the same those years ago. Your husband was gone and now your girls, you have almost no one left. You continued crying there, not caring about anything or your surroundings anymore.

After some time you just sat there silent save for the occasional sniffle as you stayed there with your babies. Every memory passing through you as you looked at them, hoping now that atleast they got to see their father and be with him now knowing it's what they wanted. Numbness taking over you before it turned to fear as you felt a sudden presence behind you. Quickly turning to see the man who killed them looming over you. Red eyes staring emotionless down at you as you stared up at him. Eyes wide like a doe caught by its predator, not making a move as to not trigger an attack.

His face stoic, your heavy breaths from your grief, the only thing filling the space before he squated down to your level. You sat there until you two became eye level, his face still not moving almost looking bored as he stared into your reddened glossy eyes, observing your tear stained cheeks as he reached to wipe a stray one as it slid down your right cheek. Looking at the dampness between his thumb and pointer before looking at you. A wicked smirk slowly creeping onto his features before he suddenly grabbed your neck, lifting himself to stand up.

You holding onto his wrist as he held you up, struggling against him and his iron grip as you flailed, choking before he threw you across the station floor away from the area you were in. You struggled, gasping for air in your burning lungs as you tried crawling away from him as he walked towards you. That sinister grin never wavering, like if he was enjoying your fear, soaking it in when he grabbed your ankle and dragged you until he completely subdued you. You began to scream as you felt your clothes tear. Both hands being held behind your back as he tore away your garments, your body trying with all its might to escape but failing miserably.

Your breath heaving for a moment, body burning with strain as you still did your best to try and fight any way it could. Feeling his free hand adjusting you before hearing more ruffling, you didnt dare look at him from your side as you still struggled. Body slumping for a moment before you felt something hard against your core. Your brain going fully into flight mode now as you started up again. A sharp cry coming out of you as the man sheathed himself into you with no remorse. Legs trembling as he stayed there for a moment, hearing him groan as you screamed dryly at the burning sensation wracking through you.

He moved your hands to hold them down at each side of your head as he gripped your wrists tight. Moving his body to be completely on you as he began to move at a relentless pace. Body scraping against the tile with each thrust as you cried for him to stop. Feeling him slow a bit before he turned you over, now facing him as he regrouped your hands to hold them above your head with one hand as the other tore at your shirt to expose more of you. As sick as it sounds you were glad the girls atleast couldn't witness your defiling at the hands of thier killer.

Tears stinging your eyes as you noticed he stopped before he finally spoke instead of just hearing his deep grunts.

"You're taking me so well, maybe you can take me better if I was at my full form yeah?"

Your eyes widening as the man seemed to literally grow infront of you. His cock stretching you to your limit as you screamed in pain at the feeling. His free hand fondling your pearl as he hissed at your newfound tightness to try and relax your body abit as you clenched down on him. Finally relaxing abit enough for him to start up at a medium speed. Hitting your spot as he began grunting again, getting more vicious with each thrust. His form caging you in as he fucked you, your body limp, taking each thrust. The man kissing your forehead then making his way to your neck as he bit down. Earning a sob from you as you were being taken as he continued his assault. Telling you his name as he leaned up to admire his cock slamming into you, demanding you say his name as he rubbed your pearl as he felt you nearing your orgasm.

You tried not to but it was feeling all too much for you as his large thumb rubbed you, his cock print noticeable in your lower abdomen as he went in and out. A pink ring of your arousal and blood beginning to coat his cock as he continued to slam himself into your cunt. His larg hands holding on to your hips as his began to sputter. He sped up a little before you let go against your will. A sharp inhale before you yelled his name, signaling your finish as sparks filled your vision, his hips fucking you through your high before his load filled you. A deep primal groan sounding from the larg man above you.

You layed there, whining when his cock slipped out of you. Coated in a mixture of pink and white , eventually just rolling to the side and hugging into yourself as the man stared at you. Watching his seed spill out of you at the action. You began crying again, in your head, you were apologizing to Geto, to your girls, for what just happened. Hoping you'd maybe be able to join them as you heard the man move at your feet. He pulled you to face him as he shuffled to where you were facing.

"You took me so well, haven't fucked like that in a millennium. You would've made a great concubine, perhaps in the future. I must finish my mission first, however, if you survive after this. I shall come back for you, for you will become my first to take."

With that, he left you to challenge the one named Jogo, whom he deemed worthy for an apponent for feeding him the ten fingers. You stayed there on the cold floor, unmoving, tired and feeling your body fade as soreness began to take over you. Your body shaking as you cried there on the tile, eventually passing out, hoping death took you.

--------

Waking up, you felt yourself covered, your body being carried by someone in robes as you stirred. Lights blinding you as the man who carried you finally came into focus. Your eyes widening, breath hitching as you looked up at the person who was carrying you so gently. A stitching pattern adorning his forehead, a familiar smile on his lips as he spoke.

"You're awake! hello love. It's been a while."

Thank you! Hope you enjoyed!

[rahuratna]

Ikemen Kaisen

Chapter 2: Come into my Parlour

Cross posted!

Summary: A cursed spirit develops a massive crush on the 7:3 sorcerer while he's on a mission. Trapping him in its unique otome game domain, the spirit soon discovers that its bitten off a lot more than it can chew with this particular jujutsu sorcerer ...

Content: Humour, fluff, crack, otome game satire, Nanami has Rizz with a capital 'R', the first year trio obtaining front row seats to this absolute shitshow.

It had been there, for just a minute. Something tangible that had fled when he was frustratingly close. Nanami blew out a small, exasperated breath and continued his steady evaluation of the crowd before heading back up to the VIP box. Maybe a bird’s eye view might reveal something telling once again. The feeling of uneasiness did not leave him, though. If anything, the sensation of wrongness, of eyes with ill intent tracing over his form, grew stronger. Nanami had not reached the status of Grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer without listening to his instincts. Ignoring that inner voice was a surefire way to get killed in this profession.

Yuuji was now seated and making a show of wiping his brow and re-hydrating. The young sorcerer-in-training had done a commendable job of keeping track of the stage. He waved to Nanami when he caught sight of him.

“Nanamin! Do you want some candy floss?”

“I’ll pass, Yuuji. But you can hand over that soda.”

Sipping from the soggy paper straw, Nanami turned to observe their surroundings as Yuuji leant toward him and spoke in quieter tones.

“It’s not Ryo-ri. I’m sure of it. I watched him like a hawk the whole time he was up there. Especially when he called that girl on stage. There was nothing weird going on at all. The cursed energy spike was someone from the audience.”

“Someone or something.” Seeing Yuuji’s concerned look, Nanami shook his head. “If it was a person, I would have found them.”

“Wait, you’re saying it’s a cursed spirit?”

“Likely. The cursed energy was very subtle, definitely sensory in nature. It didn’t seem particularly strong, but raw strength is not always an indication of how dangerous something is.”

“It’s not? That’s not what Gojo-sensei said.”

“With all due respect, Gojo-sensei is the last person you should take your assessment of caution from. The entity, whatever it was, must have picked up that I was searching for it. There’s a level of awareness at work here that should always make one careful. “

Suitably chastised, Yuuji nodded. “Okay, okay, I get it. So what do we do now?”

“There’s something else I should mention too. Since I’ve been down there … I’ve been feeling a sensation of watchfulness. Of something waiting.”

The boy’s eyes widened slightly. “Is … is it …”

“Probably. But I can’t be certain. So, what do you think we should do, Yuuji?”

The boy sat up straighter, eyes taking in the crowd that was now thinning as people made their way back out of the venue.

“I wanted to say, maybe wait for everyone to leave and then search for cursed energy traces … “

“But?”

“But if you sensed something … waiting, then the girl who went on stage is priority, right? Even if we scared off whatever was here tonight, it might be waiting for an opportunity to strike. She could still be in danger.”

Nanami felt that small twinge of pride, yet again.

“Exactly so. She’s currently backstage, meeting with Takashima as part of her supposed package. We’ll place her under surveillance and won’t let her out of our sight until we’ve established that she is at no risk of being targeted.”

“But Nanamin … “ Yuuji still looked worried. “You said that the cursed spirit may be … aware. Intelligent, like those ones we met before. Won’t it just wait until it’s sure we’ve left and then go get her?”

“That’s correct, Yuuji. Which is why our surveillance isn’t just a means to keep her safe. We’re hoping that she baits the spirit out, somehow. The emotion this cursed entity may feed off is the heavy envy that was coming from the audience. That’s probably why it was difficult for us to identify. Spirits are harder to detect when in the overwhelming presence of the very emotions that birth them. Remember that. Away from the crowd, and with a single-minded purpose, it may be much easier for us to track and isolate.”

Yuuji nodded, eyes alight with renewed determination.

“Roger that!”

Nanami and Yuuji hung around the VIP box until the young woman who had been taken backstage to meet Ryo-ri exited. If they hadn’t been paying attention, she would have flown completely under their radar. The flowing, vivid green tresses had obviously been a wig, because her natural hair was short and dark. Her clothes had also disguised her athletic build. Yuuji put her down as a professional stage performer. She had a distinctly disgruntled look on her face, certainly a far cry from the tearful ecstasy she had shown during the concert earlier. Nanami rose, nonchalantly discarding the soda can and gestured to Yuuji to follow.

She was obviously in something of a hurry, her grumpy demeanour translating to a quick, impatient stride. They followed her at a safe distance, watching as she made her way through the conference centre main exit and out into the same street they had walked along earlier. After a short distance, she pulled her phone from her bag and began to text rather aggressively, then took a sharp turn and entered a Seven-Eleven nearby. Yuuji took initiative and popped into the store behind her. As he browsed the shelves, he glanced over her shoulder and saw that she was texting someone from her agency, judging from the symbol in the profile picture. He read the messages for as long as discretion was possible before moving past.

She’s pissed off because Ryo-ri didn’t even bother to meet her after the concert. And it sounds like she’s not too happy with the agency for the arrangement either.

Choosing a random packet of crisps off the shelf, Yuuji glanced out the window to where Nanami stood on the pavement a short distance away. The sorcerer was on a call and a deep frown was marring his brow. Once Yuuji was out in the street, Nanami turned to him with a displeased expression.

“Dang, what did Gojo-sensei do now?”

“How did you – never mind,” Nanami sighed heavily. “He’s received an urgent summons from Kyoto. He was supposed to be overseeing a training exercise for Fushiguro and Kugisaki. They’ll be joining us on our mission instead.”

“Oh! I mean, the more people, the better right? They’re both strong – wait. I see what this is,” Yuuji grinned. “He’s got you for babysitting duty.”

Nanami’s eyebrow twitched.

“I’m not denying that those two are capable students. They’ll be a help, no doubt. And as much as I prefer to keep to a specific course of action, I suppose this is unavoidable. Having said that, I can’t abandon our current target.”

The young woman they were tailing had now stepped out of the store and had resumed her walk. Yuuji nodded sharply.

“Understood, Nanamin. I’ll head to the station to pick up Kugisaki and Fushiguro.”

“You remember the tracking app we installed on our phones? I’m turning mine on right now. Use it to find my location once they’re with you.”

“Right!”

Now this. This was heavenly.

Fuck Ryo-ri. A sad, little boy like that, shaking his crotch at every other bitch on stage? What could he possibly offer? No, no, no. I won’t settle for that. How could I be so … blind. This. This is what it’s all about.

Now, just look. Here, in his natural habitat, we see an absolute S-tier, top class, prime specimen of a man. Look. Just look.

From the moment he turned to face me in the crowd, I knew. It must be fate. That chiselled face, that aristocratic nose, that firm mouth and that chin. Oh, that beautiful strong chin, just waiting for a feminine finger to trace its outline. Clean-shaven, too. Just imagine what he looks like, shaving in the morning. Standing at his sink in his vest and underwear, running the blade along his throat …

Oh my. I mustn’t get too excited, oh no. Earlier, I tried to measure how broad his shoulders are and I’m sure he sensed me. Heehee. Speaking of which … sigh. When he shrugged off that coat a short while ago …  

That. Ass.

Goddamn. Praise the celestial craftsman who moulded those exquisite cheeks. Wasn’t there a poem like that? Where did I hear it before? Strange. Something about ‘did he who make the lamb make thee?’ Oh! That poem.

Well, this tiger can bite me any old time. So tall, too. And his hair … like spun gold. So perfect. Look how it moves as he walks. It’s like every time he takes a step, the cherubs of the wind are blowing each strand gently back into place. This is … a real man. His essence is all man. The way he was taking charge of that pink-haired boy and looking after him too, ohhhh. Daddy material, absolutely so.   

And his walk! Ohhhhhh. His walk! So confident. I just know he’s big down th - wait. I mustn’t let my focus slip. This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for. There’s no better opportunity than this! Now, where did I put that phone … here it is!

Oi, bitch, pick up.       

Once Yuuji had left, Nanami had resumed the surveillance on the young agency employee. She was certainly putting in the miles today and her path had taken her away from the main thoroughfares to a less populated area downtown. Here, there were no fancy coffee shops and brightly lit boutiques. Most of the stores didn’t even put out signs to advertise their wares. Many of them were situated on the bottom floor or basement level of run-down apartment blocks. Nanami noticed that the woman’s pace had slowed somewhat, and that she would sometimes check her phone before moving on.

Is she looking for directions? Where to?  

The agency she belonged to was nowhere in the vicinity and she looked like she was a little unfamiliar with this area, so she was definitely not going home.

Even though the evening was chilly, the coat Nanami wore was a little too heavy for such prolonged walking, so he shrugged it off and slung it over his arm. The moment he did, something began to feel … off. There it was again, that eerie sensation of being watched. Of alien eyes crawling over his form. Was the cursed spirit here already? That certainly hadn’t taken very long. He took a breath and relaxed his muscles, allowing his awareness to filter into his surroundings. It was something he had learned in his younger days as a sorcerer, this release of tension before expecting an attack. It helped one be more reactive to danger from any direction.

And then, the woman’s phone rang. She answered hastily, irritation colouring her tone. Nanami stepped into a narrow alleyway nearby, close enough to listen in.

“Hi, yes, it’s me. I’m … yes, I’m on my way. Excuse me, but are the directions you gave correct? It’s just, I’m somewhere downtown, and I don’t really know any reputable agencies in this area. No, no, I’m not … listen. Yes, I’m interested in the audition, but I – oh. Well, all right then, I’ll be there shortly.”

An audition? Here?

Nanami was instantly on high alert. Something was very wrong. Even if she was contacted for an audition, this area was not likely to house some kind of performance art studio. Furthermore, the disappearances of the other girls had been kept under wraps by law enforcement and their own agencies, to prevent public panic. So she wouldn’t be aware of the danger she was in.

She’s been lured here. But by whom? Is this really a cursed spirit? Is it advanced enough to put into motion a plan like this? That would make it –

Nanami had just managed to rip the blade from its holster underneath his sweater before the domain expansion engulfed him and the woman, a shockingly subtle rush of cursed energy that barely rippled the surface of reality. There was no mistaking what it was, however. If the spirit did not possess high levels of cursed energy, like he had deduced earlier, then maybe he could break through with sheer brute force. He raised his blade, energy flaring to life in powerful currents beneath his skin, bringing it down in a heavy, measured slash.

The borders of the domain rippled before annealing in softly glowing edges. Nanami dashed forward, skidding to a halt beside the unconscious form of the young performer. He took up a defensive stance, eyes narrowing as he took in their surroundings.

“Show yourself.”

The voice that answered was surprisingly young and girlish, a slight lisp accenting certain words.

“You want to see me?”

“This is your domain. You’ll have to show yourself sooner or later.”

“Welll … all right then. If you ask like that.”

A form stepped from the shadows. Shadows that had not been present a short while ago.

“Welcome. I – “

Before the spirit could finish its sentence, Nanami had swung his sword in a horizontal arc, slicing the apparition in two.

“Who do you think you’re dealing with? Show yourself. I won’t be fooled by illusions.”

There was a short period of silence. The fabricated walls of the domain around them began to shudder, changing form. Nanami frowned as he picked up the sensory feedback from all around him. As he thought, this spirit was certainly driven by strong, uncontrolled emotion. His attack had made it … happy? And why was the domain itself so resilient, considering that this spirit definitely did not have a great deal of raw cursed energy and power? Where was it drawing its strength from?

He pushed one foot out, nudging into the slumped form of the young woman lying on the ground beside him. He had to keep track of her if a fight was on the cards. Instantly, the emotions reflecting from the domain around him changed to something distinctly less … pleasant.

“What is she to you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“That girl. There, on the ground. What is she to you?”

“I’m not sure I understand your question. All you need to know is that I will not let any harm come to civilians.”

“Oho. So that’s it. You are indeed an … upright man.”

Nanami had encountered a great many cursed spirits in his time, but there was something about the sibilance of those last words that made his hair stand on end. The domain was rapidly changing now, in a twisting, disconcerting manner that was dizzying to watch.

“First, let’s take things to a more … intimate setting. This place feels so exposed.”

Gritting his teeth, Nanami felt his legs root themselves to the spot, entirely not within his control. Something large and dark was rushing toward him and he leaned back, flicking his sword out in a fine, controlled line along the wall of the alleyway behind him. It was all he had time for before weightlessness took his limbs and darkness claimed his mind.

“Guess I’m stuck with you two goons. As always.”

Nobara unwrapped a chocolate bar and took a large bite. Beside her, Megumi scowled.

“I’m the one who should be saying that.”

“I said it first, buttface.”

“Your maturity never fails to amaze me.”

Yuuji looked up from his phone and offered a warm grin.  

“Let’s hurry guys. Nanamin’s signal hasn’t moved for a while now, so he must be staking out already.”

Nobara sighed.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this show on the road. But, hey! Why do you always get to go with Nanami-sensei? He’s so cool and responsible, unlike some teachers.”

They had already passed the Seven-Eleven where Nobara had purchased her chocolate for a quick snack. They were now making their way to the spot downtown where Nanami’s signal on the app blinked in stationary silence. Yuuji’s grin turned positively devilish as he turned to the brown-haired girl who strode quickly beside him.

“I mean, I didn’t choose Nanamin. Gojo-sensei assigned me to him. But yeah, going on missions with him definitely has its perks.”

He left the statement hanging, prompting Nobara to squint suspiciously at him.

“Eh? What kind of perks are we talking about?”

“You know the details of the mission right?”

Megumi frowned. “Of course we know. There’s some idol whose fans are disappearing. And the ones hired to get on stage with him are being targeted. What’s your point, Itadori?”

“Oh, just … I got to go to the concert and vibe for a bit. Nanamin got us VIP pass tickets, so we were up in the special box. And – “

“Now, just one minute,” Nobara’s expression had turned rather frightening. “You attended the actual concert?”

“Hell yeah. And I got lots of souvenirs and merch. Nanamin gave me an allowance, like always. I mean, it’s not like we were just having fun. I had to monitor Ryo-ri and talk to people. You know, network, just in case. For anything suspicious. Oh, and we went to Forty-two West – “

“The grill place?” Megumi interrupted, his own face morphing into something murderous. “The famous one that got all those five-star reviews?”

“Yeah! The same. Nanamin said we had to go because it gave us a good view of the stage set-up. But I’m not complaining. That trio of chocolate dessert was –“

Yuuji realised he had gone a step too far when his collar was roughly grabbed from both sides by his irate classmates. Nobara was fuming.

“You’re winin’ and dinin’ with Nanami-sensei while we’re trudging around the shittiest areas of Tokyo eating instant ramen that Gojo-sensei makes us buy ourselves?

“Even my shikigami get treated better.”

“Oi, oi, it’s not my fault Nanamin prefers the finer things – “

“Well then, I’m gonna put in a request for next time. I’ll make you stay with Gojo while Nanami-sensei takes me to the best nail salon and all those cute boutiques. And feeds me, too.”

“Now you’re making yourself sound like one of my shikigami.”

“Guys.”

The flat urgency in Yuuji’s tone brought them out of their small spat. They had arrived near the narrow alleyway where Nanami had encountered the cursed spirit earlier. Megumi and Nobara were instantly on alert, the traces of cursed energy subtle, but unmistakeable. And even if they hadn’t detected that, the phone with a shattered screen on the pavement was enough to give them pause. Yuuji gingerly picked it up, examining it from all angles. This definitely wasn’t Nanami’s phone. The small stickers looked familiar, though, and his eyes widened.

“This is that girl’s phone. The performer who went on stage with Ryo-ri!”

Megumi gritted his teeth. “So they were both attacked?”

“Looks like it.”

Nobara began to do a small circuit of the area, peering into the alley with close attention.

“Hey. Check this out.”

The two boys came to crouch beside her.

“What’s that?”

“This damage has traces of cursed energy, but I think it’s Nanami’s. Look at the marks here.”

Yuuji drew in a quick breath.

“The way those bottles and boxes are cut … “

“Yeah. They’re divided in a seven-three ratio. He’s letting us know he was still alive and maybe mobile when the curse took him.”

Megumi’s brow darkened.

“If this cursed spirit was powerful enough to capture Nanami, then shouldn’t we call for back-up?”

Yuuji stood abruptly.

“There’s no time. If we wait for back-up to arrive … I have no idea what could happen in the meantime. We’ve got to go in and do what we can. Isn’t that what sorcerers' have to do, even when they’re lacking in numbers and experience?”

Nobara nodded firmly. “For once, I agree with Itadori.”

Megumi sighed and straightened. “You’re right. But I think you’ve both missed something important.”

“Eh?”

“Itadori, how have you been tracking Nanami all this time?”

“What? By the app, obviously.”

“And you think a spirit or curse user, strong and smart enough to take them both, would just let you track Nanami’s phone?”

“Oh … “

Nobara hissed out a frustrated breath. “It wants to lure us in, huh?”

“If it knew Itadori was with Nanami, then that’s possible. I’m gonna send a message to Gojo just in case, and then we head in.”

This is so exciting! Now that the bitch is out of the way, I can focus on what’s important. That kid is on his way because of hot stuff’s phone tracker, but wait, wait … I didn’t expect two more to be with him. Hmmm. That’s fine. It makes no difference. Once they enter my domain, they’ll have no choice but to follow the rules. And maybe this handsome knight in shining armour will be more … receptive to my requests when they are present. Hahahahaha. How sweet it will be!

How sweet, yes, yes. Even sweeter? I get to finally see his eye colour when he wakes up! He was wearing those shades the whole time, but now … whoops! I’ve stolen them.

Hmm. Hmm. Oh, his hair! It’s so soft! I can’t … oh, this little undercut is so lovely. So cute. A jujutsu sorcerer, huh? Scarrrry. Hehe. But that wouldn’t make me change my mind at all. Oh no. It’s worth it. This power will be just what I need. He’ll be just what I need, forever and ever.

A powerful sorcerer like this … wait. Wait. Imagine what he’s built like? Oh, oh, he just gets even better. Imagine the definition he has under all that – he’s waking up! He’s opening his eyes! They’re … oh.

Oh.

Beautiful. Oh, wow. They’re upturned, just a little at the ends and, and, they’re hazel? Qwjecknblaargh …. Focus! He’s awake! I must not pass out from his magnetic stare. Breathe.

When Nanami came to, it was not in a setting he had expected. He was lying next to a lake, on a thick picnic blanket, a picturesque sunset adorning the horizon. He was instantly on high alert, reaching for his sword which, predictably, wasn’t there.

“Oh, come now. You won’t be needing that. I’m not going to harm you.”

That breathy, girlish voice sounded somewhere behind him and he spun around, bending his knees, muscles taut and ready to react. The cursed spirit had finally taken on a more tangible form. A woman’s form, quite short and delicately built, chestnut hair falling in long cascades on either side of its face. It wore a pastel pink shift dress and its feet were bare. The most telling features were the eyes. There were no eyes. Just a shadowed region, beneath straight brown bangs.

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point, huh? All right then. I want you.”

Nanami, sensing no immediate violent intent, straightened, but kept his senses alert.

“If you mean my life, please don’t assume that it’ll come easily.”

The spirit giggled.

“You’re so silly! No, no. No, no, no, no. Not at all. This is my domain, as you can see.”

“I gathered that much. Where’s the woman from earlier? What have you done with her?”

There was a distinct pout on the spirit’s face. It sighed petulantly.

“I thought you might ask that. Here.”

It waved a hand and a small window appeared in mid-air. It expanded until the ‘room’ beyond became visible. The stage performer, still unconscious, reclined in a large chair in a dingy space with dust covers over the furniture and the blinds drawn.

“Go on. If you reach through, you can touch her. That way you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

Stepping forward carefully, keeping the spirit in the periphery of his vision, Nanami placed his hand through the shimmering window. His fingers came into contact with the inert warmth of the girl’s wrist. There was a steady pulse there. He withdrew his hand and turned to the spirit.

“All right. I’ve confirmed that the civilian is safe. You can tell me right now what you plan to do.”

The spirit smiled coyly and brought something out of its ‘pocket’. It stroked a finger over the sleek, dark cover of Nanami’s phone.

“Ah, but it’s no fun if I don’t have help with my plans. So, I’ve managed to get a hold of this. Your dear little student and his friends are on their way to search for you. I’ve guided them helpfully into my domain. I think things will be more entertaining when they get here.”

Nanami gritted his teeth, but paused, choosing his words carefully. This spirit seemed to be fond of conversation. Maybe even willing to be distracted by it.

“The students have nothing to do with this. You said you wanted me. Well, here I am, and I’m certainly not going anywhere. I’m aware that domains like this one have rules. Why don’t you leave them out of it and enlighten me.”

The spirit gave another delighted laugh.

“Oh, you’re just … wonderful. As I thought. No, I won’t let them go. But I will tell you the rules. Such fun rules too! Maybe you’ll even learn to like them. I need you to play a game with me. Nothing violent, of course, or very physical. Well, maybe a little physical.” There was that spine-chilling giggle again. “Your students are even allowed to participate and help you along! Precious little helpers, just for you. The game is all about choices. I’m going to present you with scenarios, just some harmless make-belief, you understand? You have to play the role I choose for you, and then make the correct choices. Choosing options will eventually get you to the next scenario. And every correct choice gives me a massive energy boost. That is the nature of the game in my domain. But beware! Making the incorrect choices, or attempting violence against me, will alter the next scenario. If you keep making incorrect choices, you’ll end up with a bad ending. And a bad ending means …”

The spirit snapped its fingers and the window to the dark room beyond grew wider. Nanami clenched his fists. The girl from earlier was not the only occupant. At least five other dark shapes lay in various poses on the uncovered items of furniture around the room. The other abductees.

“They’re also under my control, you see. And for every bad ending you get, one of them goes poof! But don’t worry, I’m kind. I won’t harm your students in that way.”

Nanami turned slowly back to the spirit.

Kind?

As unfathomable as it sounded, there was a tone of sincerity, almost warmth, in the spirit’s voice. As if it really, really believed that killing others, but not Nanami’s students, was an act of kindness. As long as he had been in the business of exorcising spirits, Nanami had developed a certain instinct about how to deal with specific types of curses. A sort of unerring sixth sense about how to deal maximum damage when handling them; getting to the heart of their true nature through their weaknesses. Something, perhaps his own innate technique, was telling him that there was an exploitable crack in the armour here.

“I see. That is kind of you.”

The spirit immediately beamed, for all it didn’t have eyes to express emotion with. The dark window disappeared, and the sunset took on an even rosier hue.

“I knew you’d see things clearly!”

“Tell me more about this game. Most importantly, what happens when the game ends?”

“Don’t worry about the students. They’ll be safe and wake up somewhere. If you don’t get any bad endings, all the civilians will be returned safely too. But they won’t remember anything that happened to them.”

“And me?”

“I can’t tell you that yet. Will that be a problem?”

Nanami considered for a moment before shaking his head firmly.

“No. I don’t care much what happens to me. As long as you give me a binding vow, as we sorcerer’s call it, that you’ll let them go when the time comes.”

The spirit’s smile grew impossibly broad, and it let out a small, dreamy sigh.

“You’re … really something, Mister Sorcerer. Or should I say, Nanamin. I checked your student’s chat with you and that’s such a cute nickname!”

Nanami twitched slightly at the moniker, but did not react otherwise.

“Call me whatever you want. But please make that vow.”

“Of course! Anything for you.”

Stretching one hand out, the spirit waggled its fingers. Cautiously, Nanami held out his hand and they grasped each other by the wrist. The spirit was fully corporeal, at least in its domain, the flesh beneath his fingers firm and human-like. A shudder seemed to pass through the spirit as he made contact. They spoke the words of their contract and, within the confines of this domain, those terms were made binding. Nanami let go and stepped back.

“All right. Now will you give me some information as to the nature of these game scenarios?”  

“You mean you haven’t guessed already?”

“No, I’m quite at a loss as to what they could be.”

The spirit clapped its hands and laughed.

“Why, they’ll be romantic, of course!”

“… Romantic?”

“Yes! A truly tingling tale of true love and fated lovers. The universe may conspire mischievously to keep them apart, but their honest, raw emotions will prevail over all! At least, as long as you get the good ending.”

Nanami was silent for a bit. He seemed to be thinking deeply, but in reality, this information had completely thrown him. If he understood correctly, this spirit wanted him to perform some kind of … romantic roleplay with it? Had he been mistaken? He had been operating under the assumption that this spirit had be born of the envy and resentment felt by the idol’s audience, but what was this all about then? It couldn’t be. But then again, even the most experienced sorcerers had come up, eventually, against spirits that defied their existing knowledge and instincts. Taking a breath, Nanami looked up.

“Romantic scenarios. Understood. I’ll play my part accordingly.”

“Eh?” It was the spirit’s turn to be caught off guard. “You agree just like that? I thought you’d at least resist the idea.”

“I have no reason to. If the lives of civilians are at stake, then I, and my students, will perform whatever role you assign to us to the best of our ability.”

Nanami reached up and, in a controlled motion, smoothed back his hair. He lifted his sweater slightly and tugged on the empty harness for his blade, snapping it back into place before neatly rolling up his sleeves. He faced the spirit and folded his arms.

“I am ready for you.”

Something crimson and wet dripped from the spirit’s nose. It hurriedly mopped it up with the back of its wrist.

“Ah, er, well. Let me prepare a few things and I will … be back soon.”

The window behind it opened and it scurried through. Nanami raised an eyebrow.

Was that blush part of the act?

[eleanorfenyx]

I have finished Mysterious Lotus Casebook, and here are some of my thoughts! (Obviously not spoiler free)

The cases are absolutely batshit insane and I loved it every single time they were like 'we totally collected this evidence that incriminates a secret suspect, just believe us and also don't question when the fuck we had the time to do this or when we figured out that we needed to look for it'. 10/10 no notes, that's a hilarious way to have a genius detective. Show us nothing, tell us everything, YES king.

That being said, I could have done with a lot less standing around having the supporting cast repeat whatever Li Lianhua and Fang Duobing announce, maybe in an attempt to make sure their genius is clear for the audience? I get it, but at the same time it felt a little too hand-holdy for me, especially in scenes where LLH and FDB had already discussed their findings between themselves before presenting them to the concerned bystanders. I can read between the lines (or else understand what has just been explicitly stated) without having every conclusion filtered through a slightly different sentence structure to make sure I got it.

Di Feisheng amnesia arc my fuckin beloved

Di Feisheng destroying his 'father' and freeing everyone in Di manor in a vicious act of catharsis that tied nicely into the main Nanyin bug-mind-control-thing narrative my beloved

Di Feisheng my beloved

The amount of times I was like...genuinely surprised he and Li Lianhua didn't kiss is both embarrassing (because I do in fact understand censorship and what I sign up for with these dramas and yet and yet) and numerous enough that I could...possibly...theoretically..write a 5+1 fic of every time I want them to kiss about it. No one hold me to that but it's something I think I'd like to do.

Re: the above point: because what the FUCK was that ending?!!! EXCUSE ME?! I gotta FIX THAT SHIT.

There will come a day when the strength of my hope for an unambiguously happy ending in a queer(-coded? is the source originally bl or is this its own thing?) wuxia drama is rewarded....but it is not this day. I must fix this myself.

Jiao Liqiao's laugh is one of the most annoying things I've ever heard. I was reaaaaally hoping someone would just up and stab her during one of her little evil laughing fits. At one point I was shouting "KILL HER, KILL HER" at my screen because I could NOT take anymore of her (unfortunately, I did in fact have to take more of her).

I still think her insistence on being obsessed with DFS is hysterical when he is so VISIBLY only interested in LLH. Explicitly STATES that his only life purpose is to fuck fight LLH again. Babygirl (derogatory) he is so fucking gay let's get you a nice knife to the gut instead, okay?

I thought the whole Shan Gudao plot was interesting, going from looking desperately for his body -> putting him to rest -> hunting for his murderer -> finding out he's alive/the mastermind behind everything going wrong (which I was proud of myself for realizing before the reveal, I'm normally bad at that) -> thwarting him with sass and superior martial arts at every possible turn -> killing him stone fuckin dead with beginner level skills because he's so up his own hole he can't see that's what's happening - was really fun!

He also has a SUPER annoying laugh he can fuck off

OH OH OH MARTIAL ARTS SKILL OF TRANS YOUR GENDER?! I MARRIED HER SO HER AFFAIRS ARE MY BUSINESS NOT YOURS??? ASKING YOUR WIFE FOR HER FORGIVENESS AND UNDERSTANDING AS YOU LAY DYING AND SHE GIVES IT TO YOU?????? OKAYYYYYYY

The twist at the end that LLH is the one with royal blood was so funny to me. Like it's a good twist and I love that Shan Gudao was just quite literally always a fuckin try-hard loser in ways he didn't even know, but also it was SO funny. Granny coming in clutch at the last fuckin minute with secret knowledge she just literally never shared.

LLH is such a smooth motherfucker. Shame about his insistence on dying when quite literally everyone (bar the people who suck) is begging this man to just live. Just LIVE DAMN IT!!!!! I really liked it when FDB begs him to just consider his own life as important for ONCE and remember that people care about him because YES his self-sacrificing and committment to Chilling Out Farmer Style was not the mercy he thought it was!

LIVE AND GROW OLD WITH DI FEISHENG YOU DAMN IDIOT (the likelihood of me resisting the urge to write at least the one fic for them is zero to none)

Unironically love spitting up blood as a plot device and this show is no different. The Drama. The Panache. The desperation of everyone around you because you have BLOOD coming out of your MOUTH and you are FAINTING. Poison acting up? Spit blood. Someone bitch slap you with their magical palm ability? Spit blood. Get stressed? Spit blood. Get stabbed? Spit blood. It's always good!

Okay I think that might be all I've got for now, if I think of anything else I'll add them in a reblog. I thoroughly enjoyed it, would definitely recommend!

[athousandbyeol]

discussion #6 (only friends): boyfriend, bed friend and friend with benefit— are these colours a possible 'spoiler' to their ending?

three couple posters were released, and i'm thrilled to see three primary colours representing each pair. after sanray's green bed friend and topmew's red boyfriend were shared, i speculated bostonnick's to be yellow. one of the reasons this prediction arise is because of the nature of their relationship/personality and also my personal opinion on these pairs' possible ending.

however, i saw this tweet last night and i thought it was very insightful. thanks to op for sharing their input. it's interesting to observe these colours associated with each pair from the viewpoint of the traffic light. :)

thus, in this post, i wish to highlight some core points and assumptions about the dynamic/nature of each pair that corresponds with their designated colours; red, green and yellow.

as always, this (and any) of my discussion post is a space to welcome a disparity of thoughts from everyone who watches this drama. please take it with a grain of salt. :)

[warning: a very long post ahead].

let's begin.

topmew | boyfriend [jealousy and manipulation]

first and foremost, when this poster dropped, i was surprised. i didn't expect topmew to get this colour. i was expecting red to represent sanray because of their passion and overall fieriness. even in the trailer, we can see how tense those two are, like fire on fire, one inciting the flame and the other just making it worse.

however, after watching the trailer again, i understand the purpose of red as topmew's colour.

before we jump into the assumption, let's dive into the meaning behind the colour.

red: an emblem of true love and revenge

red often symbolises strength, passion, action and energy. the simplest example i can use in this context is the red rose. usually, a red rose is given to glorify the profound love a person has for someone. it's ironic considering red is also the colour of blood— and blood is somewhat a sacred and eerily beautiful symbol of infatuation in many love, tragic, horror and sad stories.

despite its positive connotations, red also means danger, anger, revenge and aggression. as i've mentioned, red is another classic symbol/motif/metaphor of anger used in many stories or movies— the best example is also blood.

why red is topmew's colour?

jealousy

interestingly, aside from the poster, there's something else in the tweet that needs attention.

เราเล็งใครไว้ ไม่เคยพลาดนะ translates to whoever we aim for, we never miss. this is the line top says to mew when they are playing laser tag (which looks so fun).

i find it fascinating when top says this because it happens after top catches mew hugging ray;

why does this matter? well, i believe this is the start of top's jealousy.

the clenched jaw, his body tensing, and a tiny bit of sadness in those eyes— i have to say, this is one of the points that can potentially be top's moment of epiphany. this (or the kiss in the shower) might be when top realises he likes mew.

additionally, it's very ironic that topmew are playing laser tag; a game that focuses on strategising and 'killing' your opponent. this somehow makes me view topmew's relationship as a hunter hunting its prey. however, in their case, top believes he's the hunter (as explained in top's introduction post, top is the top of everything). yet, top has never met the best opponent. not until mew.

p'book explained that mew is helpful and generous with his friends. but one thing he despises the most is dishonesty. people who take advantage of him will face the greatest disaster. these are very strong representations of mew's character, already denoting mew's colour as red. my initial thought was mew was generally blue (calm and level-headed), but his colour will change when his trust on top falters.

furthermore, as i've mentioned in my previous discussion posts, mew is more than what we think he is. the introduction post is already giving so much of mew's personality and vibe. he doesn't smile that much, and his eyes are very dark and hollow. the smirk he wears is not really evident, but it promises a sinister and potent impact. (once again, kudos to p'book for portraying these nuances of mew so well even in the intro video. i still get goosebumps when i watch it.)

top thinks he can outsmart mew. i believe he's going to eat his words someday.

side note: boston displays lenience when he's with top. boston is more of the submissive type with top, proof is taken when they had sex in the car, boston does all the work. this illustrates the power top has over boston and his reluctance to lose. it's also likely that boston was the one who called top that night, even though he (might have) known top was with mew before.

when top knows he likes mew— genuinely likes him and experiences jealousy for the first time— this is why he (and mew) represents red; you're mine. don't be someone else's. just mine.

manipulation

next, in the shower scene, top says—

—and is followed by a kiss.

as p'force mentioned in his intro post, the word love that comes from top's mouth is never sincere.

side note: i'm a bit conflicted when i learned about this because it made me think of two possibilities, 1) top genuinely falls for mew after they become boyfriends or 2) top never likes mew and he's just playing with him (like his other boyfriends/casual hookups). i hope top will like mew for real because if he doesn't, it won't really add much to his character— or simply, it'll just make him a flat character at the end. also, it doesn't give significance to mew's character as well, given his transformation is deeply rooted in top's dishonesty.

in both scenes, top says things that i personally don't understand its significance, but it's his way of claiming ownership and setting foot in mew's life, an indication that mew is his and he wants mew (and everyone) to know that.

it's a form of subtle manipulation from top— masked with sweet promises and again, (faked) honesty. top knows it's the only way to gain mew's trust: by making mew believe that top only sees and wants mew.

top surprises me in this frame because is that jealousy and anger on his face? (i think it is).

it's the way he says it. the slight quiver of his voice, the quietness of it almost brings forth his insecurity about losing mew's trust. although he's certain mew likes him too, ray is mew's friend and they've known each other longer than mew knows top. in one way or another, mew will possibly believe ray more than top, given mew hates dishonesty in a friendship/relationship. mew will treasure anyone who treasures him, but top worships and bends mew's trust simultaneously. something painful will be the price top has to pay after the truth unfolds.

another act of manipulation i noticed from mew is when top hugs mew and cries.

i believe mew might want a break-up at this point, but top doesn't want to. the little smile mew wears is an indication that mew knows he won this fight— he successfully manipulated top into thinking yes, i'm wrong. yes, i lied to you. yes, i can't live without you. an honourable mention includes mew's little smirk when top hugs him on the bed.

mew has it in him— that instinct— the hey, this top guy is interesting. mew keeps his cards safely in his hands, and once he thinks it's best to use them, oh, he will.

it's going to be very fascinating if this is the shift of mew's transformation— if this will be the second mew starts kicking off his plans on destroying top.

topmew's possible ending

as red signifies revenge, i think topmew won't be the endgame.

i personally think it'll be silly/unrealistic if mew still gives top a chance even after discovering about him and boston. it also doesn't add up to mew's personality as someone who is determined, resolute and sticks to his virtues. them being together at the end isn't what i want. the ending i want from topmew is 1) top will learn from his mistakes and 2) mew doesn't rely on love and friendship to determine the route of his personal life (he should take charge and make decisions for himself).

i assume topmew's break-up will be the start of mew's character growth and a revelation of top's true personality. but them being the endgame? i hope they won't. hehe.

//it's funny to me considering i adore forcebook but i don't want topmew to end up together...//

sanray | bed friend [safety and envy]

previously, i correlated sanray with greed and gluttony (thoroughly explained in this post). i view sanray as the right person and right time, but ray is somewhat too afraid to admit it, and san is somehow 'weak' to make ray believe it's true.

however, despite the turmoils they face in this relationship, there's a strong feeling of positivity i get from these two (and also bostonnick). why?

do you notice: sanray and bostonnick have always been honest with each other?

ray says he just wants someone to keep him company. san wishes ray can just focus on him. boston says he doesn't love nick that way. nick wishes boston can only love him. from the start of their relationship, they always vocalise what they really want from each other.

side note: topmew is different because they aren't honest, to begin with. we can expect a painful downfall from a relationship that is based on deceit.

but what is green, and why does it symbolise sanray's relationship?

green: a token of hope and balance

the colour generally has a positive meaning. green often resembles nature, and nature encompasses home, balance and relaxation. yet, green also means envy and judgement, hence the saying, green with envy.

why green is sanray's colour?

safety

ray (and i assume, top) are battling with different mental health issues. possibly, ray suffers from depression (assumption made by the bathtub scene when mew hugs ray),

and top is insomniac (pills scattering near the sink).

(i can be wrong).

what i'm trying to say is ray might feel 'bare' and 'naked' as his feelings for mew aren't reciprocated. this also roots in his insecurity in knowing that this won't change— mew won't ever like him— especially after he likes top. ray knows he no longer has a chance with mew despite still liking mew. and that messes with his head.

what does ray want in his life? security. a home. a place to be and feel safe.

i don't know if i can explain this well, but there's always dread whenever something doesn't go how we want it to be? i think that's ray's major problem: he can't come to terms with his feelings. he sees the world as a solid entity. he doesn't possess the fluidity to 'shape' himself differently from that belief. thus, this is why ray is so afraid of the growing infatuation he has for san, because san isn't in that box— it has always been mew. but mew doesn't want to be in that box— san does.

ray is a ticking bomb in the sense that he's very unexpected and volatile. there are many instances in the trailer that shows ray's explosive reaction and approach when he confronts san. one of the examples is when ray says having san in his life won't make it better (it's the opposite. ray knows this too.)

all he wants is safety and assurance. ray also wants clarity and an end to the doubts in his head. befriending san, having this 'bed friend' relationship helps ray see that it's possible. but as i explained, ray doesn't know if he can have that with san. it's a very sad and (twisted) understanding of love. ray believes he's 'cheating' on mew by having romantic feelings for san. yet, i reckon, mew doesn't want ray to feel that way. mew also wants ray to find his happiness, even if it's not from/with him.

i do believe ray's perception of love will change. there's going to be a cathartic moment he experiences one day that gives him the certitude he needs. san has always been the door that ray can open anytime. it's only a matter of acceptance and forgiveness that will save ray from his own devils. it's only a matter of time for ray to accept his feelings as they are— to take san's hands and walk on this journey together.

envy

envy is a potent driving force between san and ray. even though it's mainly from ray, san also shows nuances of envy.

in one way or another, san knows ray likes mew. but san likes ray— ray (who isn't ready) to like san back.

the pattern i see in every couple is they're each other's reflection. they might not realise it now, but they will when they're about to lose their other half.

in sanray's case, san hasn't fully grasped ray's train of thought. although he assumes he knows what ray is thinking, his speculations aren't entirely true. it's also because san has his own ideas about ray and how this relationship should work.

san wants to fit ray into his mould and expects ray to abide by it, but he knows too well that ray is still bound to mew. this will frustrate san the most and further amplifies his anger/despair/jealousy.

(why must first cry in every role he acts in? my heart is breaking for him...)

i guess it has to do with san's personality as a survivor (extracted from san's intro post). he battles with himself every day to make ends meet. he isn't financially well-off while ray is rich.

furthermore, from this line included in the poster tweet;

เพื่อนกัน เค้าไม่คิดตังค์เว้ย = friends, they don't think about money, parallel this scene—

—which adds another layer to san's character as a faithful/sincere/kind person/lover. he doesn't blur the lines between friendship and love if his feelings aren't involved (making him a bit selfish, but it's a given when a person so strong-headed and passionate like san starts loving something/someone). from the beginning, san never wants ray's money even though that's the most important thing in his life.

different living status promises a different set of challenges. i don't mean to be biased, but the reality is, the poor will always endure the toughest battle. therefore, san's insecurity is valid, and his confusion is necessary. why?

as san's feelings for ray grow, he starts doubting his worth. he doesn't have much to offer, only his body, soul and time— that's all. san will make deductions— am i just only that to ray? just a bed friend? can he ever be more than that to ray?

sanray's possible ending

sanray is the pair that i hope (and somehow confident) will get a happy ending.

there's so much to them that fits the holes and gaps in each other. they do feel like two people finally finding one another after all the chaos and heartbreaks. they make me want to root for them because the pain they've endured is just so gut-wrenching that i insist they'll be the endgame no matter the circumstances.

i also believe since green is their colour, sanray will achieve that balance and harmony in the end. despite not knowing how and when they'll get to that stage, i'm quite certain they'll be together. these two incendiary characters can finally simmer down the rupturing fire in them by being together, taking and discarding the positive and negative, and also achieving the clarity they've always wanted— together.

bostonnick | friend with benefit [happiness and egoism]

from the two trailers, we get so little of boston and nick's dynamic. it touches on the core elements; lust and envy (further explained in this post). we're seeing only the gist of what and who they are to each other and other people, which attributes to a wonderful surprise awaiting us once only friends airs.

i expected bostonnick's colour will be either yellow or orange, and i'm happy my assumption hit the jackpot this time hehe. although boston's character is likely the antagonist of the story, nick balances his negativity really well. nick's brightness manages to dull boston's darkness.

yellow: a sign of happiness and egoism

yellow is generally a happy colour. it reminds me of the sun; bright and hot. yellow is often associated with cheerfulness and energy. it's a colour that incites many good emotions.

even though this colour shines with positivity, yellow can also represent cowardice and lies; it also acts as a precautionary sign; kind of like the traffic light; yellow— prepare to stop (not to speed up hahaha).

why yellow is bostonnick's colour?

happiness (light)

i see bostonnick as yellow because i think they're genuinely happy when they're together.

boston to me is very red, and nick is somewhat white. they're from two different ends of the colour spectrum, with nick being the bright sunshine while boston is the dark clouds. however, i see only positive influences nick has on boston, mainly when they meet outside of the bed and in the red (developing) room.

their relationship might begin because of boston's habit/obsession with capturing moments of sex with his partners. nick might be the tech-savvy guy that is coincidentally working on the day boston pays a visit. the universe really wants them to meet somehow.

i can't exactly picture how they go from this;

to this;

i guess the attraction is mutual from the first encounter (or one of them is very horny at that time [read: boston]), and they begin to confide in each other afterwards.

although we know the foundation of their relationship is mainly boston seeking nick's help (with his equipment (?) and urges), there are also moments of them spending time with each other like how lovers do. the wakeboarding date (?) and other possible meetings are just happy days spent together.

moreover, it's evident that nick is happy to be boston's favourite.

regardless of boston still having an on-and-off connection with top, boston will cave into nick more and more because nick can give him everything he wants fast. nick's availability appeals so much to boston. this makes nick his favourite because again— boston and his idea of controlling the things he likes— applies to nick too.

side note: i don't know if boston is a sex manic or he's insatiable, but i assume nick doesn't mind feeding boston's constant need for intimacy (even though it'll hurt him the most eventually).

ego

boston has a big ego, and he knows this. that ego is one of boston's strongest (and toxic) traits. like top, boston believes he can have everything and anything he wants. why? because of his brazenness, boston doesn't really have much fear in him as well as decency. he's the go-big-or-go-home type of person. this portion of boston is also one of his most appealing qualities, and nick clearly takes the bait.

however, boston's ego is also his greatest downfall. he thinks he won't be affected if someday, nick decides to leave him for good (and go to p'papang's character, which i honestly approve of). when that day comes, it will make boston realise (hopefully) that the truth is; he does love nick all along.

but this is the thing boston and top have in common: they don't understand what love is. the concept of love to them is vague and stupid. they don't know if true love exists, and i'm guessing it has to do with their (painful? embarrassing?) past experiences. they perceive love in the same manner; sex. they objectify their loved ones to benefit their pride and ego. if they don't get something in return, it'll be useless. they won't use them.

boston says he never loves nick because he knows he has never given nick anything but pain and pleasure. a part of boston is aware that he's unforgivingly mean, but it's a feature he can't discard easily; this ego. boston can't see himself falling to his knees and acknowledging his feelings for nick because that hurts his pride.

boston is a walking disaster, and he doesn't want to lose that title— he glorifies that label— because it makes him feel powerful and in control, a common trait of a narcissist.

and because boston clouds himself by believing nick is just an object, he gets angry when nick stops serving his purpose; to satisfy boston. it infuriates boston that nick found his voice and wants boston to listen to his needs. boston can't let that happen, mainly because of his ego. he's just too prideful to be at anyone's mercy.

it's not because nick can't get enough of boston— it's boston who never thinks nick is enough.

side note: let's be real— top chooses mew. top wants mew. top sees boston as an object of lust. that's all. what he does to nick is what top does to him. it's like boston's cry of protest— feeling unwanted by someone he (thinks) he wants.

yet, boston also uses his ego to control, play and manipulate nick's feelings.

sadly, nick's honesty gets the best of him because boston prefers to overlook that sincerity; nick's desire for love.

กูแค่อยากให้มึงรักกูคนเดียว = i just want you to love only me; boston can't. his ego doesn't let him.

bostonnick's possible ending

i'm inclined to bostonnick having an open/ambiguous ending. like the colour yellow, there's going to be a balance of optimism and cowardice. nick might still want to be with boston despite the hell boston brings into his life because he really loves boston. unlike mew, nick doesn't have malicious intent (i don't see this in him, really) in seeking revenge etc. he reminds me of the character that is truly broken by a person they love the most. nick somehow illustrates how pure love is and how painful it can be.

also, it'll be exciting if there's a redemption arc for boston as he's likely the antagonist of this story (honourable mention will be mew). he might realise nick's worth and start things over. there'll be hesitation and doubts— does nick still loves me?— but if boston is honest and willing to fix this, nick is always open to accepting him.

nick has a soft spot in my heart and i'm genuinely hoping better days will come to him (because mark shared in nick's intro post, nick cried so much. it's rare to get a smiling nick).

conclusion

colours play an important role in telling or showing intent, purpose and significance. it's a widely used symbol/motif/theme/metaphor to give the audience a better picture of the storyline, plot, characters, etc.

as always, i find it interesting that these primary colours are so basic but it gives so much depth to these three couples. all of them are distinctly unique with so many humane attributes. it's riveting almost to see three different dynamics in a series.

their red and green and yellow will bring forward so many colourful emotions from us. are we ready to be painted black at the end of the drama?

side note: do you know? the first step in making black is mixing red, green and yellow.

(i tried it with pencil colours and it's almost black. all it needs is a touch of blue.)

what awaits us? are these colours the possible spoiler to each pair's destiny? let's find out starting this saturday. surely, it'll be a hell of a ride.

[1 | 2 | 3 | 4 (i) | 4 (ii) | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12]

references:

only friends twitter page

only friends pilot trailer

only friends official trailer

colour meanings: red | green | yellow

[7077070707]

geto’s downfall (unfinished)

a/n — hi guys!! sorry for disappearing suddenly. i made this fic ages ago, the plot being geto and how the whole backstory arc would effect him and his s/o with a heavenly restriction (like toji’s) knowing how his views on those without cursed energy changed.

i grew disinterested with the fic and jjk overall (dw, the hyper-fixation comes and goes) but i still wanted to post what i had already written, so here you go. i may or may not complete it one day, but who knows.

the world is a cruel, unjust place. 

“riko… let’s go home.” 

“yeah!” as the young girl spoke her final words, instantaneously receiving a bullet to the head, oblivious and unaware. 

the scene was too sudden to comprehend – with one moment filled with a heartfelt conversation, and the next with the murder of an innocent child. 

geto didn’t even have time to react, his face still stuck in a pleasant smile before realising what just had occurred. with the boy’s body still and unmoving, his eyes followed the direction of where the younger girl had collapsed and took residence on her newly lifeless body.

her eyes lacked the warmth of a soul, as they stared into nothingness. her crimson blood oozed from the bullet wound on her head. it was splattered sporadically along the concrete floor, which was eventually to be forever stained with her remnants and what went down that night. 

“riko?” was all that he could muster.

he noticed a large man carrying a gun stalking into the light, yet he was confused as to why he couldn’t sense him or his cursed energy. as far as he was familiar with, the only person he knew that lacked the presence of cursed energy was y/n.  the man spoke some words but all geto could hear was the ringing of his ears and a slight buzzing noise. 

with no regard to what the man was previously saying, the boy asked one question, “why… why are you here?” 

“why…?” the unknown entity pondered for a moment, “oh, gotcha.” 

“i killed gojo satoru.”

“is that so?” an unforgiving fury envelops the raven haired sorcerer as he summons his two strongest curses, rainbow dragon and kuchisake-onna, “then die.”

the rainbow dragon bursts through the walls, scattering heaps of debris and rubble everywhere. it catches the man in its protruding jaw and soars across the air, sending gusts of wind throughout the chamber. 

the man hangs from the dragon's mouth and shoots a few bullets directed towards the sorcerer with an absurd level of pinpoint accuracy. 

at this, geto quickly summons a small curse between his hands to shield himself from the incoming bullets. he dispels the curse and soars downwards towards the destruction in a ravenous manner.

landing in the corridor, he abruptly spins and watches as the rainbow dragon fades away. the chiselled man rested a hand on his hip, with the other holding his gun at his side. he bore a wicked grin and simply said, “don’t be so impatient.”

he turns to the side and begins to take slow strides, explaining something that geto had no choice but to listen to with a furious scowl on his face. he matches the slow pace that the opposing man took and walks with him from a large distance. 

one thing the man says particularly catches geto’s attention. “...and since i have no cursed energy, i’m like an invisible man.” 

‘just like y/n then… so he’s bound by a heavenly restriction too, huh?’ he didn’t fail to notice that toji was as fast as shit — obviously due to the physical empowerments he was gifted in exchange for his cursed energy. the same stuff applied for y/n too, and he could see the uncanny resemblance. the way they both moved so effortlessly – as if they were one with the wind. judging from the man’s monstrous build and heavenly pact, he could already assume that he’d have a sinister and terrifying strength to him. another thing he and y/n had resemblance in. 

and it was true, he was an invisible man. geto wasn’t able to sense him, despite the fact the man was around 10 feet away from him. he should’ve fucking known. he has experience in dealing with those without cursed energy – his girlfriend – so why? why was he so fucking useless? an innocent child wouldn’t have lost a life today if he had attuned to his senses a little more.

geto was livid.

the man says something about how wielding a cursed tool reveals his presence, but geto already knew about that. y/n taught him most of the basics and what there was to know about her and her heavenly restriction. it was a curse and a blessing. 

he had enough of the man’s blabbing and raised both of his hands. his dominant hand took position in the form of a finger gun, with the other hand situating itself underneath the ‘gun’ as a form of support. his hand illuminated a bright blue and he aimed upwards to where the man was. a bunch of small, squid-like curses shot from the barrel of the ‘gun’ and crashed into the ceiling.

the sorcerer lowers his hands and stares expectantly at the area he shot. his eyes widen as hears a voice from behind him, “now, there’s more to this story.” again, he jolts and abruptly turns to the source of the noise. 

he points towards his open mouth and continues, “see, i keep a cursed spirit capable of storing objects around.” he begins his slow stride once more and geto follows the action, “so i usually put my cursed tools in it when i’m walking around.” 

geto locks a hawk-like gaze onto the man and the man reciprocates – but instead with a lazy, careless one. he was smirking as if he greatly enjoyed this whole endeavour. 

“now i know what you’re thinking… shouldn’t the cursed energy from the spirit make him no longer invisible?” the sorcerer remains silent. this was unfamiliar to him, and you’ve never tried anything like it. to find a cursed spirit that is able to hold an inventory of weapons is… not unheard of, but rare. and yes, he did wonder as to why the spirit didn’t reveal the man’s presence, since it was indeed a curse.

geto’s train of thought suddenly stops as he watches the man throw something up. he bore a look of deep-rooted disgust on his face as he witnessed the scene in front of him.

in his palm, lay a small, ugly curse drenched in slobber. 

“the spirit shrinks by storing itself within its own body.” the man says, holding intense eye contact with the young sorcerer, “then i ingest it and keep it inside my stomach.”

that’s all he needed to know in order to connect the dots; and for the rest of the rambling, he didn’t care. the longer he stared at him, the more bile raised at his throat. his anger was accumulating just from the look on his face. 

and at the very back of his mind, another source of anger derived from the chaos and damage he managed to bring – despite not having any cursed energy…

he knew it was wrong to think that, after all, his girlfriend didn’t possess any cursed energy either; and he loved her so dearly. however… he felt the phenomenon to be… unnatural. actually, it was unnatural. how is it possible for one to not bear the power of cursed energy be so destructive? 

suddenly, he felt disgusted. he shouldn’t be thinking that. y/n isn’t unnatural, for god's sake! she’s perfect, funny, and powerful. the hideous man in front of him is the one to be blamed. he’s the one who killed riko, the one who killed satoru… the boy swallows and tries to bury the thought at the back of his mind.

“...reveal myself to the six eyes…” 

the sorcerer had enough. “shut up!” he yelled, enraged, “it’s a heavenly restriction, i know that! and like us, revealing certain information can give you an advantage. i’m aware of that too!” 

geto didn’t want to hear about the heavenly restriction, he was well versed in that subject. what he wanted to know was how on earth the man knew about the entrance into the tombs. he begins to ask about it, but then a realisation occurs. 

‘heavenly restriction… enhanced senses, right? those with heavenly pacts are able to sense things the average human can not. we must have left traces like footprints, and odor. for fucks sake…’

it must have shown on his face – a grimace, due to his daunting findings, for the man opposite him bore a devilish grin.

“i see that you have the answer. humans leave many more traces than just cursed energy, ya know. i also see that you’re quite knowledgeable regarding heavenly restrictions. why is that?” 

“like hell i’d tell you. scum.” 

“could it be… that you're familiar with someone who bears the same curse as me? an acquaintance, a friend?” he drawled and his grin grew larger, “perhaps a partner?” 

his hand glows once more, and he launches a curse towards the large man. the rainbow dragon tunnels through the countless thin doors and soars upwards – not without capturing the man in its mouth.

once more, he summons a dozen small curses, erupting from miniature black holes in the sky. they project towards the rainbow dragon and the heavenly restricted man, appearing as though they were quantities of blue laser beams. 

the man soared in the air as if he belonged in the sky, effortlessly dodging and deflecting the hundreds of attacks barreling towards him with his weapon – not without a sinister grin present on his face. 

he flips backwards and lands on top of a roof, causing the bricks underneath to crumble from the sheer force of his landing. 

geto crouches down and summons another curse. a gigantic one, at that. it erupts from below his opponent, causing him to lose his purchase and soar into the air once more. he seemingly does a flip amidst the air – which unnerved geto, since there was no footing to pull a stunt like that.

the man lands onto the thick, old rope that was intertwined around the large tree of tengen’s chamber. he evades the barrage of attacks sent by the young sorcerer, as if were an animal relying on pure primal instinct. how could a human possibly be capable of this?  

he jumps into the sky and unsheathes his large sword, swinging it in the sky. suddenly, he’s splitting the rainbow dragon open, dragging his weapon through the tough scales of its hide, an act that is almost deemed impossible. it’s purple blood splatters everywhere, raining down of the world below it.

the sorcerer’s eyes widen, and he’s immensely taken aback. 

‘the rainbow dragon has the toughest hide there is! how the hell…?’’ 

to geto’s chagrin, he again couldn’t help but notice the everlasting similarities you and the man held. it was eerie. the sense of deja vu was strong, and geto felt lightheaded. he had been in this position before – with you airborne and elegant, deflecting his multitudes of attacks ever so effortlessly. of course, this battle was not taken in a serious manner – it merely being some sort of training regime.

he remembers the times you’ve been able to slash and hack curses that bore the toughest skin with the utmost efficiency, the resemblance with the man uncanny.

his thoughts beginning to intrude in his mind, he wonders if you would ever be capable of wreaking mayhem like the murderer before him had done. his heart rate speeds up and he feels sick, the disgusting thoughts invading geto’s mind and etching onto each of his brain cells. he pleads for these thoughts to go away, yet they don’t – and he is distracted.

the rainbow dragon tumbles and descends into the ground due to the massive injury it had suffered – with it practically being split open. rubble flies everywhere but the sorcerer and the murderer are unphased, gravely facing towards each other amidst the chaos that reigned upon them.

[positivelybeastly]

As a Hank McCoy stan, I must ask your opinion on a little idea.

A fan film about Beast.

No action, no battle, some drama, but overall a far quieter X-Men film that explores a side of Hank we don't see much if at all. His parental side.

Maybe he finds a lost or abandoned child and takes them under his care. But because this new character is human, this causes some problems. But in the end, Hank and the child agree to face the future ahead of them, no matter how hopeless it may seem.

What's your input?

First off, nice to meet you! Always a pleasure to see a fellow Beast stan in the wild, so to speak - and I like that there seem to be more of us over time; we're gathering strength, it seems.

Secondly, I think there would be a lot of mileage in this sort of project! X-Men is, at its heart, a metaphor about racism, prejudice, civil injustice, and I think it would be really interesting to examine those themes through an under-explored lens (at least in comic books), that of interracial adoption and parenthood.

You would, of course, have to be careful about the line to be struck between allegory and reality - this is always something I try my best to keep in mind when writing Hank, because yes, he is visibly mutated, and yes, in-universe, he is subject to prejudice as a result, but you generally have to make the struggles unique to the mutant race while being reminiscent of the struggles faced by other minorities.

For example: when talking about the multiple mutant genocides that have taken place in X-Men comics, I've often perused quotes that I think would be impactful for Hank to use, to communicate his state of mind, and I come across quotes that I think would be apropos, but because they're specifically about the tragedy of, in that instance, Native American genocide, I've felt uncomfortable using them.

Yes, they would be impactful, but I personally feel (as a white cis man) that it would be inappropriate for me to use them in relation to a genocide against a fictional minority, especially in dialogue spoken by someone who is, when boiled down to it, also a white cis man.

You would have to be very careful about making creative decisions like this one if you wanted to make a fan film - this is the definition of delicacy and sensitivity, and it can be hard! I don't really agree with the idea of 'kill your darlings' in fiction, but when it comes to media that wants to examine societal themes, sometimes, you do have to cut things that you think would be really impactful because you have to consider how it reads to other, real minorities.

That being said! Don't let this idea discourage you. Examining the way that Hank would be perceived around a small human child, examining the potential prejudices that would be levelled against him if he wanted to try and formally adopt them, examining the way that it would affect his work and cross over into his heroic life - and, of course, examining the way that this interacts with his own concept of himself as a parent.

Remember, after all, that Hank has complicated feelings about parenthood, and for good reason.

Like, there's a whole thread to be unravelled here, about Hank's feelings that he can't be a good parent because he's (in his mind) a chronic screw-up, because his bestial mutation could pose a potential threat to the child if he ever lost control, because he's a publicly known superhero with enemies (including another self who wouldn't hesitate to kidnap said child for nefarious reasons, I'm sure)

And what would those doubts look like to the kid in question? Would they interpret it as a lack of desire for a child, a feeling that they're a burden, making Hank's life that much worse by being there and relying on him?

But then there's all the sweet things, too!

In summation? There's a lot to unpack here - but provided it's done with some real care and attention to detail and sensitivity, I think you'd be looking at something really quite special, with a subject matter that, quite frankly, no MCU-Hollywood movie is going to tackle in the same way.

[itjazzbicch]

Next Level

Pairing:  Renji Abarai x SoulReaper!Reader 

Summary: Wanting to become a captain but needing to gain some more strength, the reader spars with their partner, Renji, who is a challenge for them, but the reader takes things to the next level when they reveal something new...

Warnings:  Established relationship (Also, the bankai the reader has was just made up by me, so sorry if it seems odd). Other than that, none!

Word Count: .7k 

“If you’re serious about becoming a captain, you got to give it all you got, Y/N!”

I asked Renji to spar with me since there were open captain spots, and I was looking to take one of those seats; I still couldn’t believe I was struggling against him like this.

“Don’t count me out just yet,” I huffed while rising to my feet, pointing my sword towards him, “Let’s see how you like this.”

“I’m waiting,” Renji didn’t seem to take this seriously at that moment, his eyes going wide as he heard the distance:

“Bankai.”

I haven’t had my bankai for very long, but he wanted my best, so I gave it to him.

“Wait a second, did you just say-; NGH!”

Appearance-wise, nothing changed with my bankai form except that my sword turned a burning blue. With every strike I landed on him, that blue burned to be brighter.

I was moving so fast that he couldn’t comprehend it; he didn’t have the time to counter, and it was apparent how much weaker he was growing.

“Time out! Time out!”

Pulling back my arm before delivering a blow, Renji was down on his knees, using his zanpakuto to stand and question:

“What the hell is your bankai doing to me?”

“It takes spiritual pressure,” I began to explain, “That’s why you feel so weak. Have you noticed my zanpakuto getting brighter as we kept sparring?”

Realizing what my bankai’s abilities were, I went back to my standard form, seeing him like this making me feel guilty and apologize:

“I should’ve told you that. I’m sorry, Renji.”

“I understand, but you need to be careful,” Rising, he was serious when he warned, “It will surely work on your enemy in a battle, but it can affect your comrades too.”

“You’re right,” I said to him. I grew anxious while thinking about my bankai, anxiously asking, “Do you think that will prevent me from becoming a captain? Since its power applies to everyone around me?”

“They might put some restrictions on using your bankai,” He huffed, standing tall to smile, “But it’s awesome. I do not doubt that you can become a captain after a little more practice, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Renji,” I smiled back, hugging and keeping his arm, showing my concern, “Let’s call it quits for today. I can tell you’re a little worn from that.”

“It’s hard to explain how it feels,” He thought, trying to find the right words as we headed back to his quarters, “But I feel a little funny.”

“Well, let’s make sure you relax,” I sighed out of guilt, sitting him down on his bed, helping him out of the upper half of his robes, whispering, “I am super sorry. I haven’t had my bankai long. I should’ve been more considerate before pulling that on you.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Plopping on his back and closing his eyes, he was sure of his words, “The only way you’ll get a better handle on it is if you practice. As long as you don’t try to kill me, I don’t mind sparring with you.”

“I know, and I would never, Renji,” Sitting next to him and resting my head on his chest, I traced the line of his tattoos, saying for the first time in our relationship, “I love you, Renji. I only want to become stronger alongside you.”

“You’re stronger than you know,” He cooed, tilting my chin up so I’d meet his gaze, his cheeks forming a pink hue as he said back, “I love you too, Y/N, and you will become a captain.”

Flustered, I hid my face against his chest as his arms wrapped around me. Of course, he only made my heart flutter more:

“You have no idea how proud I was when I heard you say, bankai. It’s an incredible sight that I’ll never forget.”

Picking my head up, no feeling was as magical as our lips pressing together, soft and passionate, only parting to coo, “I promise I’ll make you even more proud, Renji.” 

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome 

[evilphrog]

Watching Wheel of Time without reading the books: Season 2, episode 1

I'm at it again! I know I never posted the season 1 finale review, and maybe I will go back and do that later. But for now, I just finished the season premiere, and I have to say, Perrin is 100% correct. The five of them are much more impressive together than apart. Which isn't to say I disliked it. They are all on the struggle bus, but that is where character development is at its peak, and where we get to see their true inner strength. Which is to say, I LOVED it. Bring on the angst!

The season opener with the round table of evil plotters was a fun and clever way to deliver some exposition without boring us. Having a little girl crawling under the table, disturbing the Very Important Shadowy Cloak Meeting really humanized every single one of them, and seeing the Fake Dark One be so gentle and patient with her gives some insight into how people can become dark friends. They are just concerned parents. I am now calling him Nancy Reagan, since he is their leader. I also definitely want to pet a trolloc. They look much cuter when they aren’t being ordered to kill everyone in sight. Are they tamable? Or...redeemable? I am still not sure of their level of free will/sentience, so I am not sure which word applies.

The first scene post-credits is Moiraine working hard to take her Very Sad Alone Time Depression Bath. Just one woman, chilling in a hot tub, cuz the water gets cold without magic. It was a very good idea to show the first hot tub scene in the recaps, so I could get the full emotional subtext here. Bathing is a communal activity in this culture, but she can’t handle having someone else see her in such a vulnerable position when she already feels so vulnerable all the time. But the longer she spends isolated, the more alone and vulnerable she will continue to feel.

She and Lan are hiding out with their friends, Sassy Twin, Serious Twin, and Tom. Tom is married to one of them, but I forget which one. Without the warder bond, Lan must have lost the rapid healing that allows him to withstand his severe clothing allergy. Good thing the Sassy Twin is there to helpfully point out additional clothes that might be hurting him, and to reassure him it would be fine to remove them in her home. She truly speaks for all of us. I’m glad Lan has these three friends around to support him as he supports Moiraine. This poor man is having to learn, at the tender age of forty-something, to use his words to describe how he feels. He is afraid for his best friend, he is hurt about being pushed away at a time when he would expect to be leaned on even harder, I am pretty sure he blames her for blocked bond because she had put the block up prior to being shielded, and he feels like he is losing his only purpose in life.

And in the face of all that, he has to exhibit so much patience as Moiraine acts like every insecure teenager ever and tries to push him away. His previous experience with teenagers taught him what this behavior is like, but not how to handle it. Her “I am so aloof and do not care at all about the feelings of others” routine was incredibly transparent to everyone except Lan. He really needed his friends to lovingly slap him in the ego and remind him that the only way to truly help her is to let himself be the vulnerable one, so she can see how it' it's done, and realize it's something she can live with.

But now he has to do it the old fashioned way, by walking upstairs to check on her. Good timing, too. Slightly worse timing for Serious Twin, but at least she could handle all the Eyeless. Hopefully one of the twins does healing.

Meanwhile, at Aes Sedai High, Nynaeve and Egwene are in novice training. Egwene is dealing with a bit of culture shock. She accidentally witnesses an actual, honest to Light, bisexual orgy on screen. She is going from being a big fish in a small pond to being a big fish in an ocean surrounded by other big fish, but she is handling it better than I expected. Nynaeve is handling the entire thing exactly as I hoped she would. While Egwene focuses on adding extra challenges by learning to weave with both hands tied behind her back, Nynaeve is semi-consciously stopping herself from doing any magic at all. Polly tries playing on her pride, by saying she is just scared, and Nynaeve responds by drinking dirty dishwater while making direct eye contact. Such a power move, there. Unfortunately, it leads directly to an unwanted face-to-face discussion with JK Rowling, which quickly turns into a surprise duel. I thought JK was torturing Nynaeve by hurting her, but my husband said she was only making the air too thick for Nynaeve to move through. And really, nothing could possibly torture Nynaeve more than placing an unwanted restriction on her. She did end up shielding her, temporarily, and that was described as one of the most brutal forms of assault. Pretty sick, but also pretty consistent with boarding school hazing rituals.

Later, Nynaeve and Egwene read the letter from Perrin, where he hopes they will all stick together. And JK Rowling goes down to her secret Man Dungeon For Men to read a heavily edited version of the letter to her prisoner, New Mat. And, to this I have to say, come on JK Rowling! Why do you go and pull a stunt that the actual JK Rowling also used in her own book? Your name is getting more and more accurate as time goes on, and that is not a compliment. Anyways, Mat responds in pretty much the same way Harry Potter did, by trying to break out of jail. I’m not sure how I feel about New Mat so far. He seems a bit like a soggy bed sheet, but he is also in the exact circumstances that would lead to soggy bed sheet behavior. His puckish attitude was mostly a mask he put on to lift the spirits of those around him, and his private moments were entirely spent dwelling on his own misery. Presumably the only person he has interacted with for months now is someone who actively feeds on that misery. JK Rowling is a cursed dagger unto herself.

We get a brief glimpse of Rand, with his new haircut. He is sad and has no lines. I assume he will be more present in future episodes. He lights a lantern, presumably for his mother, but maybe for the innocent version of himself that will never exist again. Maybe for his friends he thinks he can never see again. They light the lanterns for those they lost, which might not necessarily mean the ones who died.

Perrin, meanwhile, is on a quest to find Padan Fain and steal back the magic horn. He has found another Wolf guy, who seems to be teaching him how his wolf powers work. Apparently he can see the past? Maybe he is smelling the places where things used to be, like Angua does in Discworld? So then, is he a werewolf? This is a very confusing power that has still not been explained at all. I would have liked to see Perrin get a training sequence similar to Egwene and Nynaeve, but the defining trait of wolf guys is that they aren’t a chatty bunch. They find a bunch of bodies of the traitors from the final battle, presumably disposed of once they were no longer useful. The group holds a proper funeral for them, which confuses Perrin. He doesn’t understand how they can go to such effort for the people responsible for the deaths of hundreds. The prince guy responds that if his people spent their time seeking revenge on those who betray them, they wouldn't have time for anything else. It is more helpful to the ones left behind to let it go and focus on the mission. Sort of the way of the leaf, but with a more productive twist. Perrin is really on a quest for a moral philosophy that he can live with, and this one seems slightly more compatible with him.

At Bel Tine, he lights a lantern for his wife. The first time he has to do so. He places his wedding ring on the lantern, but takes it back at the last second. He isn’t ready to let go of his own guilt just yet, but at least he can move forward while carrying it now. Loial seems good for him. And Perrin is good for Loial. He’s way more likeable now that he has gotten used to the wonder of living in the human world, and stopped condescendingly and incorrectly explaining how it all works. They are both figuring that out together. I am not sure how he survived being stabbed with the cursed dagger. By all rights it makes no sense. So I guess… Loial returned somehow. And we are also moving on from it and focusing on the mission, even if we carry our confusion with us.

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