#I’ve been obsessing over master /sword for TOO long

[thenmichael]

Smth about ghiralink

[chadobi]

Okay, I’ve recently been in the mood to write something about 2012 Leo, so I hope you enjoy it! I’d also like to apologize for the number of tags in my previous posts, etc. I’m still learning how Tumblr works, so thank you for pointing it out, and I hope it’s all good now! Either way, happy reading!

“Letters Never Sent”

TMNT 2012 Leonardo x Reader

You never meant to find the box.

Really, you didn’t. You had just come by the lair to return Donnie’s tablet and maybe hang around long enough to catch Leo before patrol. It wasn’t like you planned to snoop. But when Donnie told you Leo was already out and that your missing notebook wasn’t in the lab, you figured—just maybe—it had ended up in Leo’s room.

The notebook was important. It had your training notes in it, doodles, even a few snippets of poetry you’d never admit to writing out loud. But mostly, it had Leo’s handwriting in the margins—small corrections, comments, thoughts from your shared training sessions. That made it special.

His room was tidy, of course. Not obsessively clean, but well-kept in that disciplined way that just was Leo. Sword racks on the walls. A few cracked comics under his bed. A blue blanket thrown over a floor cushion that doubled as a reading spot. The air smelled like old books, tea, and faintly of whatever incense Master Splinter had lit earlier that evening.

You were just about to give up when your hand brushed something behind a stack of old comic volumes on the shelf. A cardboard box—plain and unassuming—worn around the corners, like it had been opened and closed more times than it should have. You shifted it toward the light, blinking at the neat label stuck to the top:

To Y/N — letters never sent

Your chest constricted.

There was something achingly intimate about it, like finding someone’s diary with your name on the first page.

You hesitated.

Then you sat down on the edge of his bed and opened the box.

Inside were layers of folded paper—some crisp, some worn thin like they’d been read over and over. Napkins, corners of pizza boxes, torn notebook pages. One had a coffee ring stain on it. Another was sealed with blue painter’s tape. At the very bottom, there was a tiny origami turtle with your name carefully inked on its shell in looping, delicate script.

You stared. Then slowly, reverently, picked up the first letter and unfolded it.

Dear Y/N,

Mikey made a dumb joke again tonight—said Donnie should get a PhD in “Mutant Mayhem Management.”

Everyone laughed.

You laughed too.

I don’t think you noticed, but when you laugh, your nose scrunches slightly. Not in a bad way. In a way that makes it impossible to look away.

I laughed too, but not at the joke.

I was laughing because you were laughing. Because your happiness makes me feel like maybe the world’s not so broken.

— Leo

You swallowed hard.

This wasn’t just a silly crush. These weren’t random musings. These were confessions—tiny glimpses of thoughts he’d never shared, pieces of a quiet heart too cautious to speak them aloud.

Your fingers moved to the next one without even thinking.

Y/N,

We were on the roof last night. Do you remember? The wind was colder than usual. You asked if I was okay. I said I was fine.

I lied.

I’m not okay. I’m scared. I’ve fought mutants, robots, aliens… but this is scarier.

Because I think I’m falling for you, and I don’t know how to say it.

I’ve always been the leader. The protector. The strategist.

But around you… I just want to be Leo.

— Leonardo

You felt something warm and sharp and real press against your ribs. A ache, but not a painful one. You could almost hear his voice in the words—stiff, deliberate, like he had to wrestle each letter down on paper.

The next few letters spilled out more of the same: thoughts, memories, little daydreams. He noticed everything about you, from the way your hands moved when you spoke passionately, to how you always stood a little closer to him when the city felt unsafe. He wrote about the first time he saw you cry. About how he wished he knew what to say when you did. About how he practiced telling you how he felt but never got past “hey” before chickening out.

Some of them were funny. One was an apology for nearly knocking you over during sparring. One was a list of reasons why he wasn’t going to give you a letter, followed by a reason that simply said:

“Because you deserve someone better than me.”

That one made your throat tighten the most.

You didn’t hear the door open.

“Y/N?”

You froze.

Leonardo stood in the doorway—gear still on from patrol, blades strapped to his shell, blue mask untied and trailing behind his neck. His eyes went from you, to the box, and then to the open letters scattered across his bed like his heart had been spilled out in paper form.

His entire face went pale.

“I—” he stammered, voice cracking. “What are you doing?”

You looked up, eyes wide, caught in a mix of guilt and heartbreak. “I didn’t mean to. I was just looking for my notebook. Then I saw my name.”

Leo stepped forward slightly, then stopped like the floor might break beneath him. “You weren’t supposed to read those.”

Your fingers curled around the edge of one of the letters.

“Leo… these are beautiful.”

His mouth opened. Then closed. He looked away, jaw clenched.

“I was gonna throw them out,” he mumbled. “They were stupid.”

“They’re not.” You stood slowly, holding one of the letters like it might fall apart. “They’re… honest. They’re you. Why would you hide this from me?”

He gave a weak, humorless laugh. “Because I’m not good at this. I’m not like Mikey, or Raph, who can just… say things. I’m quiet. I freeze up. I overthink. I thought maybe if I wrote it down, I could get it out of my system.”

You stepped closer. “And did you?”

He looked at you. Really looked. And for the first time, his voice softened into something fragile.

“No. It just made me love you more.”

The world fell still.

Your chest rose with a trembling breath. Then you reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out something small—creased, folded, worn with time.

A note.

You placed it in his hand. “Then you should probably read this.”

Leo unfolded the paper carefully, fingers trembling.

I think I love the way he carries the world like it’s nothing.

I think I love the way he speaks like silence is holy.

I think I love him.

But I’m scared he’ll never feel the same.

His hands dropped to his sides, eyes never leaving yours.

“You wrote this?”

You nodded.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Then slowly—awkwardly, cautiously—he reached for your hand. His was calloused, rough from years of training, but warm and steady.

“You mean it?” he asked softly.

“I do.”

His voice cracked again. “Then I’m really going to kiss you.”

You blinked. “Okay.”

It wasn’t perfect. Your noses bumped a little. His hand hesitated at your waist, unsure if it belonged there. But when his lips touched yours—soft, gentle, reverent—it was everything you’d imagined in the lines of those letters and more.

When he pulled back, his cheeks were scarlet. “That wasn’t too weird, was it?”

You smiled and rested your forehead against his. “No. It was you.”

_____________

Later that night, the box remained on his bed—still open, no longer a secret.

You lay together under his blanket, side-by-side, fingers intertwined as you read every letter together. He buried his face in your shoulder each time you teased him, and you kissed the tips of his fingers each time he got flustered.

Some letters made you laugh. Some made you cry. All of them made you love him more.

Eventually, you held the final one in your lap, the tiniest origami turtle of them all.

“What was this one for?” you asked, lifting it gently.

Leo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “That was going to be the one I gave you… if I ever got brave enough.”

You smiled.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you whispered, leaning in.

“Why?”

“Because now I get to hear it from you.”

And he did. In whispers. In kisses. In quiet, unspoken promises sealed not with ink, but with arms around each other, breathing the same soft rhythm into the night.

[vintagerpg]

Strongheart is a dweeb. Always thought so. He is one of two or three of the original LJN D&D toys I owned as a kid and dang, why couldn’t I have Warduke (my parents were a little sus of the toy line, but a friend of the family gave me Sir Uptight and either the Young Male Titan or Northlord as a Christmas gift; I promptly lost Strongheart’s sword under the radiator in the TV room).

Anyway, NECA’s D&D Ultimates was three deep on Evil Action Figures, so I guess we needed a good guy and I guess you aren’t going to really come across a more gooder guyer. Undeniably a nice sculpt. The original LJN design is still recognizable but has been improved in every way. For instance, he’s no longer wearing his underwear over his armor. His visor moves, so if you don’t want to look at his face or want to pretend he’s a robot or something, you can do that. But! Something cool about this incarnation of the do-gooder: he looks a little bit like Thomas Magnum.

Now, I can hear you say “But Stu, you have a weird micro-obsession with Magnum, P.I., could this just be your own biases coloring your perception?” And friend, I thought the same exact thing. But trust me, I have it on good authority that the initial inspiration for Strongheart (2022) here was Thomas Magnum. He isn’t Thomas Magnum, but is meant to invoke him in the mind. And it worked for me! And it’s appropriate, too, because Magnum is a big nerd. In the season five episode “Little Games” (1984) we see Thomas playing a (fictional) computer game called The Dungeon Master. Now, there is no evidence that Thomas, T. C., Rick and Higgins ever threw dice in a session of Dungeons & Dragons, but playing a videogame like that, I’m sure Thomas wouldn’t have turned his nose up at the possibility. And, you know, just to sell you on the Strongheart/Magnum connection a little more: in season three, episode thirteen, “Of Sound Mind,” there is a costume ball in which Magnum clanks around in a a particularly silly suit of plate mail.

Long story short: I’ve come around on the old knight in shining armor. In addition to a good mustache, he comes with a longsword, a short sword, a warhammer, a shield, six total hands and a wire-rigged cape that I don’t think is detachable, but is cool enough to merit mentioning.

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirates Promise

Chapter 62.5 Part 5: Ichiji and Pudding

.A/N: And we are back with the last part of Ichiji and Pudding! I still have to edit my master list so thats a work in progress, but Now... we have official ended whole cake and are hitting WANO!!! now buckle up because Wano is about to be eventful! thank you guys for liking, sharing, reblogging, etc! two more chapters are going to be uploaded as we are no stepping Wano. but without further a do let the adventure begin!

Ichiji POV… 

As I stormed through the halls of Big Mom’s château, my boots echoing on marble floors, Father’s words still burned in my skull like acid.

“She’s changed you.”

Tch. I don’t need him telling me what I already know.

But what he doesn’t understand is—change doesn’t mean weakness. It means clarity. Focus. And when it comes to Y/N, I have never been more focused in my life.

I shoved open the door to our suite, and there she was.

Y/N.

Standing by the vanity, bare-shouldered, wearing nothing but that white lace set—delicate and dangerous, like frost over a flame. Garter belt teasing along her thighs, her back to me as she adjusted one of the silk straps.

Preparing for my failure of a brother’s wedding.

I didn’t even try to be quiet. I wanted her to hear me come in. Wanted her to feel my gaze on her skin. The moment her eyes flicked to the mirror, meeting mine, that spark lit between us again—volatile, undeniable, maddening.

All the teasing… all the tension that had simmered beneath our forced courtship… finally snapped.

I crossed the room in a blur, and this time, I didn’t hold back. I claimed her, the way only a Vinsmoke could—hungry, unapologetic, mine.

She tried to fight it at first—her pride burning hot, lips spitting fire—but it was too late. The pull had taken us both, dragging us into the chaos we’d danced around for far too long. Her defiance melted into something just as fierce—desire.

She gave in.

Not because I forced her… but because she wanted it.

Because whether she liked it or not, she was mine now. Not just in name, not just in title—but in body, breath, and heat.

And this?

This was only a taste.

Once Sanji is married off and handed over to Big Mom—once her army is under our command and her flag flies beside Germa’s—we’ll leave this circus behind. No Yonji. No Niji. No meddling father. And definitely no Sanji.

Just Y/N and me.

And a honeymoon where I can finally indulge in every hunger I’ve denied myself… completely.

And uninterrupted.

I could still hear her breath hitch, feel her nails clawing at my back, her moans echoing in my ears like a siren’s call. The way she gasped my name—desperate, wild, mine.

One thing about us Vinsmokes—we know how to please. And that night, I made sure she never forgot that.

Flashback

Her body trembling beneath mine, the moonlight painting silver streaks across her bare skin. I had whispered her name like a vow, her breath catching as my mouth found the soft curve of her throat. She arched against me, whispering my name like it meant something more than just possession. Like it was hers, too.

She’d begged me.

Not just for more, but to never stop.

And I hadn’t.

End Flashback

But now… she’s gone.

Because Big Mom turned on us.

We should have seen it coming. In truth, I did. But I let pride, greed, and Father's obsession with conquering the North Blue blind me. They wanted our technology. They always did. And Father was too arrogant to see the noose tightening around our necks.

They went after Y/N.

That was their mistake.

And ironically… it was our failure of a brother who saved us. Who saved her.

Back on Cacao Island, when the smoke had barely cleared and Katakuri had fallen, Y/N stood there—Sanji and his captain unconscious at her feet. Her sword dripped blood, and her eyes…

They no longer gleamed.

She wore a short black dress—thin straps clinging to her shoulders, a wide-brimmed hat casting a long shadow over her face. Her once long hair was cut short, strands falling across her cheek as she stood smoking, rage simmering beneath the surface.

She was no longer that girl who trembled in my arms.

She was a woman made of fire and fury.

And when she raised her sword to strike Oven, we arrived—my brothers and I, shielding her from the bullets that tore through the air.

“You guys came to save us?” Sanji muttered as he stirred, bloodied and breathless.

I didn’t even look at him. “Oh, Sanji. You’re here,” I said flatly.

“I came because these idiots owe us for that disaster of a tea party… and more importantly, for threatening my wife.” My eyes didn’t leave Y/N. “I received her distress signal.”

She froze, cigarette halfway to her lips. “What?” she snapped, turning to face me fully. “Are you out of your mind?! I never sent any distress signal!”

I stepped toward her, took the cigarette from her fingers, and dragged from it slowly—never breaking eye contact.

Then I kissed her.

Right there.

Amid the chaos.

The taste of smoke still on her lips. The fire, the fury… all of it mine.

“I don’t need you to send one,” I murmured. “I always know when you’re in trouble.”

“Sanji, leave… this doesn’t concern you. Take your captain and my wife out of here.” My voice was sharp, firm—commanding—as it should be. I was the leader of Germa 66, and this battlefield was no place for indecision.

“Sanji, Princess, get moving already!” Reiju barked, her eyes flicking toward the sky as our forces began clashing with Big Mom’s children.

Sanji clenched his jaw, but he knew better than to argue. With a grunt, he lifted his captain’s unconscious body over his shoulder. Y/N hesitated only for a split second before running beside him, and together they launched into the air with the help of the raid suit’s boosters.

But it didn’t last long.

One of Big Mom’s snipers aimed for her—a clear shot. My blood ran cold.

I moved without thinking.

Yonji, Niji, and I struck at once—obliterating the attack before it could land. Y/N stabilized herself mid-air but landed soon after, now on foot, weaving through the chaos, searching for Sanji.

Explosions rang out. Fire. Smoke. Screams. Big Mom’s children were merciless in their pursuit. Y/N was fast, her body moving with elegant brutality, dodging and striking back, but the moment I saw a crater open beneath her feet, I moved.

I yanked her into a nearby alley just before she could fall further into enemy hands.

Sword drawn, she spun, ready to strike—but I laughed.

“Is that any way to thank your savior?” I teased, a smirk tugging at my lips, expecting her usual sharp reply.

But instead—she dropped her blade.

She stepped forward and kissed my cheek.

My breath hitched.

“Damn it… it’s happening again… my heart…” I thought, barely able to process the way her hands curled into my coat, holding me like she didn’t want to let go. I wrapped my arms around her tightly, protectively. I didn’t care who saw.

I never wanted to let go.

But she pulled away, eyes soft, conflicted.

“I have to go back to my crew.”

I didn’t hide my anger.

“Of course you do,” I muttered bitterly. “Of course you’d choose them.”

But I knew her reasons. I knew she wasn’t someone to cage or possess completely—no matter how much I wanted to.

Didn’t mean I agreed with it.

Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell.

She looked down at her hand—the ring I gave her glinting in the fading light. Embedded within it was more than just gold. It held a direct link to my modified abilities, and her custom-designed raid suit, coded to her DNA.

“To tell you the truth,” she said quietly, her voice trembling just enough, “I had a lot of fun… I understood what it meant to have a partner… and for once… I wasn’t left wondering if I was enough.”

Those words shattered something inside me.

And yet… they pieced something new together.

I cupped her face, my voice low, raw.

“You were more than enough… you still are.”

“But I’m still a Vinsmoke,” she said softly, her eyes never leaving mine. “And if you ever happen to be on a specific island… the one I know you know about… look for John and Dominik. Let them know La Princesa sent you.”

She lifted her left hand, her fingertips brushing the red engagement ring I gave her—custom-forged, embedded with both emotion and technology. Her thumb lingered on it for a second longer, like she was memorizing the warmth before letting go.

“La Princesa...” I repeated under my breath. The name she took in quiet defiance of a world that tried to break her.

She stepped closer, close enough for me to feel her heartbeat. Her lips found mine—firm, aching, final.

And just like that… she kissed me.

Not out of obligation. Not out of pity. But because she still loved me… even if the world, her crew, our bloodlines—everything—stood in the way.

When she pulled away, I wanted to chase her. To scream. To order her to stay.

But I didn’t.

Because love without choice… isn’t love at all.

So I watched as she turned, her silhouette vanishing into the smoke of Cacao Island’s battlefield—leaving behind only the echo of her voice and the scent of her perfume.

And I swore on that blood-red ring… I’d find that island one day.

And when I did, I wouldn’t come as a Vinsmoke.

I’d come as her man.

No more interruptions. No more wars. Just us.

Just Ichiji and La Princesa.

Soon enough, I saw her and Sanji reunite.

“Come on, Nami, you think I’m that careless…?” she teased over the transponder snail Sanji held, her voice lighter than her condition as they ran—Luffy slumped over Sanji’s shoulder like a ragdoll.

But I noticed it immediately.

The way she winced.

The way her hand clutched her side tightly.

“Damn it.” I muttered under my breath, activating my thrusters as I shot into the air.

In a flash, I swooped down and scooped her into my arms just as her knees buckled. Reiju did the same with Sanji, lifting him up gently before looking over her shoulder.

“Goodbye, Sanji…” she said softly. “And take care of her, Y/N. You too.”

As we landed safely aboard the Straw Hat ship, I looked down—Y/N’s body trembled. Blood trickled from her side, soaking into my gloves.

She coughed, hard. Her breathing ragged.

“Damn it… what was in that bullet…” she gritted, struggling to stay upright. Then I spotted another injury—a deep scratch along her arm, leaking some kind of dark residue.

Sanji immediately knelt beside her. “Chopper! Do something!” he yelled.

The raccoon-looking doctor shook his head, panicked. “It’s reacting to something in her bloodstream. I need time—more time than she has right now!”

Y/N collapsed forward onto her knees.

Her lips were trembling.

Her eyes were glassy.

“Just… just take the bullet out… please…” she whispered, coughing more blood as she leaned into Sanji’s shoulder. “I… I was shot once by Pudding on the same side... but this one burns...”

I could see it clearly now: the entry wound was infected with some kind of toxic compound. Maybe poison. Maybe technology. Whatever it was, it was eating her from the inside.

“Don’t worry, we’re on it, okay?” Sanji said, grabbing her hand and holding it tight. “We’re right here. Just hold on.”

I rolled up my sleeves. “Hold still. I’m taking it out.”

Sanji nodded. “Do it.”

I plunged my finger into the wound.

Y/N let out a stifled scream, teeth clenched so hard I feared she’d shatter them. Tears streamed down her face, but she didn’t flinch away.

God, she was strong.

She always was.

But even the strongest break when it’s too much.

“I got it!” I snapped, pulling out the bullet

“This bullet… it’s larger than normal. And look here,” Chopper said grimly, holding it up with a pair of tweezers. “There’s a strange coating on it. I think it might be laced with something dangerous.”

Y/N shuddered, the sweat on her brow catching the sunlight. “That explains the burning…”

“Don’t worry,” Chopper replied with a resolute expression as he began cleaning the wound and stitching it carefully. “I’ll get this cleaned up. But you need to be careful for a while—whatever was on that bullet could still affect you. We won’t know the long-term effects just yet.”

I knelt beside her and, with quiet precision, placed her down gently on the deck of the ship, letting her rest.

I knew what I had to do.

“As much as it pains me to leave my wife,” I said, my voice edged with reluctant pride and deep regret, “I have a mission to uphold.”

I stood to leave—no drawn-out goodbye. That wasn’t my style. But before I could step off the ship—

“Ichiji!”

Her voice cut through me like a blade. I turned, half-expecting—half-hoping—that maybe she’d ask me to stay.

But instead… she walked up, her steps weak but determined, and wrapped her arms around me.

I froze for a moment, startled.

Then I exhaled, and hugged her back, letting myself indulge in the warmth of her presence just a moment longer.

“Thank you… for everything.” she whispered.

I closed my eyes.

My heart… I thought, the familiar ache settling in my chest. The one I always tried to silence. The one I thought I’d trained myself to ignore.

But not with her.

Never with her.

“Always,” I murmured against her hair. Then, just loud enough for only her to hear: “You were the one thing I got right.”

Y/N had told me once—if I ever stepped foot on that island, the one she called hers, to ask for Dominik and John.

I hadn’t forgotten.

But in that moment, as I looked back one last time from the edge of the ship, I saw Sanji. His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed—not with rage, but with something deeper. Something I understood far too well.

Jealousy. Pain. Maybe even guilt.

After all… she’s still my wife.

Even if this whole thing started as a forced arrangement, a political maneuver, a move on the chessboard of Germa's ambitions—Y/N… she taught me something real.

She was never meant to matter.

But she did.

And for that… I turned to Sanji, said nothing, but met his eyes.

"You won." I thought, the admission as bitter as it was honest.

As I boarded the ship, I heard her laugh echo faintly on the wind—light, sharp, and real. That sound trailed behind me as I headed back into the fire. I had a job to finish. Buy them time. Hold the line in Cacao Island.

Y/N left me thinking while I fought Oven. Fists and heat clashing, the taste of ash thick in the air. And through it all… I kept hearing her voice in my head.

“She was always enough…”

No—more than enough.

If anything… I’m not man enough.

But at least she’s safe. That ring—my custom design—keeps me updated on her vitals. Her pulse. Her health. I can even send voice memos through it, not that I ever know what to say.

And just then… the transponder snail buzzed to life.

“Strawhat’s ship has escaped Big Mom’s territory.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

“She’s gone. And safe…” I muttered, low, to myself.

Then, more commanding: “Return to the ship, Germa 66! Mission complete!”

Yonji, Niji, and Reiju nodded, exhausted, their armor scorched, their faces tired. We turned our backs on the burning island. Father stood at the helm, watching it all with unreadable eyes.

I removed my white glove, staring at the ring beneath. My thumb hovered just a second longer over the red stone—our signal, our lifeline. I pressed the center crystal. A soft red glow blinked once.

Voice memo recording started.

"Stay safe, Princess. You’re always in my thoughts."

The message sent with a soft chime. That’s all I said.

But there was more I wanted to say.

There’ll be time for that.

Or at least, I’d make time.

I turned, half-expecting silence again. But then—the ring vibrated against my finger.

"She must’ve triggered something." I thought, eyes narrowing as I lifted my wrist.

“Tiger,” her voice came through, soft, a little strained but real. “Don’t know where you are… but I hope you’re safe.”

That damn smirk tugged at the edge of my lips before I could stop it.

She still called me Tiger—the one name no one else dared use.

That meant something. Even now.

Just then, Yonji and Niji approached me, covered in scratches and burns, armor scraped and dented. Their faces were unreadable.

“You gonna be okay, or are we planning a second rescue mission just to get your heart back?” Yonji asked, trying to lighten the mood, though his eyes flicked to my ring.

“Or maybe we start mass-producing emotional trauma raid suits,” Niji added dryly. “Might sell better than our tech.”

I rolled my eyes and turned away, stepping toward the railing of the ship.

“She’s safe,” I said quietly. “That’s all that matters.”

They didn’t reply, and they didn’t need to.

Because even with the battle behind us and Big Mom’s territory burning in the distance, I knew one thing:

This wasn’t over.

Pudding POV… 

I don’t get it.

Why am I helping him? Why am I helping her?

That damn princess. She ruined Mama’s tea party—our perfect plan. I should hate her. I wanted to hate her.

And I understood why Mama needed her. The tech in her rings, the weapons she carried—if we had that… if Big Mom had that, we’d be unstoppable. Her alliance with Germa 66 would’ve tipped everything in our favor.

But instead of capturing her, I helped Sanji.

And I hate that I did.

Every time I tried to understand it, the memories came flooding back… his smile, that infuriating kindness, the way he treated me like a person—even after I showed him my third eye. Even after I lied. Manipulated. Hurt his friends.

Even after I slammed y/ns head into the ground three times...

He still looked at me like I was worth something.

When we baked that cake, I thought… maybe this is it. Maybe this is what love feels like. I watched him, flour on his cheek, humming like he didn’t have the weight of the world on him.

And I couldn’t stop myself.

But the moment we got to his ship—the moment I saw him run straight to her—her, bleeding and unconscious and in his arms…

And then—then he fed her the cake.

The one we made together.

I should’ve screamed. Should’ve burned her where she lay.

But I didn’t.

Because when our eyes met, hers and mine, something… passed between us. A moment. A thread of understanding I didn’t want, but couldn’t ignore.

We were both just girls caught in this nightmare. Playing roles bigger than us. Chosen by families, by fate, by expectation.

And then... Cacao Island.

I didn’t want to say goodbye. Not like that.

I cried in front of him.

Me, Charlotte Pudding—crying like some lovesick fool. Because despite everything I’d done, everything I was, he still looked at me with grace. That same gentleness that made me fall in the first place.

So I asked for one favor. One final request.

"Let me kiss you, Sanji."

Just once. Not for anyone else. Not for the plan. Not for Mama.

Just for me.

He didn’t resist. He let me.

And as our lips touched, I poured everything I couldn’t say into that moment. And when it ended—I did what I had to.

I erased it.

From his mind, from his memory—from the timeline of our story that never really had a chance.

Right up until the moment we arrived.

He looked confused, like something was missing. Like there was a hole in his heart he couldn’t explain.

I ran.

He tried to follow, called my name—but I didn’t stop.

Because if I had, I would’ve shattered.

And when I heard later that his ship escaped Mama’s territory… that they escaped together…

I let the tears fall.

Not because I lost him. But because I’d let him go.

And maybe that was the one unselfish thing I ever did.

"Vinsmoke Sanji... you left your mark on me… and that’s something I’ll never forget," I whispered into the silence of the dim hallway outside Mama’s chamber. My fingers traced the edge of my third eye absently.

"You were the first person to ever show me kindness… even when you saw all of me. Even with this eye—this curse I’ve hated my whole life. You didn’t flinch. You smiled."

The memory burned in my chest.

"And even if I’m evil… even if I was raised to be nothing more than a puppet in Mama’s game… you saw more."

I shut my eyes. His laughter echoed in my mind. His gentleness. His quiet heartbreak as he chose her.

"And Y/N…"

I said her name like an ache, like a wound I gave myself.

"You caught me… you bested me. You survived me. You still held his heart even after everything I tried to do. And yet—somehow—when I was bleeding inside, you looked at me not with hatred… but pity. Or maybe it was something worse. Understanding."

A tear slipped down my cheek. I didn’t wipe it away.

"I erased some of your memories... I couldn’t bear for you to know what really happened that night. Not the way it truly was. I left you with fragments... with the night Sanji and I were intimate, but not the truth of how I stole the moment you two had together."

The guilt clawed at me, sharp and unrelenting.

"I'm sorry."

I didn’t say it aloud. The walls didn’t deserve to hear it. But it throbbed in my heart like a wound that would never close.

"I wanted him to choose me. I wanted to be enough. But he looked at you the way I dreamed he would look at me. And maybe… that’s why I let him go. Because I knew, deep down, that no amount of memory wiping could ever change what his heart already knew."

I placed a hand over my own chest.

"It was always you."

And with that… I turned away from the past and walked into the uncertain future Mama had left behind.

.

.

.

[sapphicseasapphire]

So- I had a question regarding someone else’s question on Sky doing a duel wield on Fi and (I think it was Wars, forgive me if it isn't-) but since Ghirahim was left in the past at the end of Skyward Sword, will he be somewhere in the feature? If he's no longer alive, will his sword fragments (like an artifact) be somewhere in anyone else’s Time Era like a museum, or will it be in a forgotten temple for the chain to find? Would Sky be able to see the so-called “Red string of fate” that would lead him to the sword?

If so: How would Sky react to seeing Ghirahim’s sword? Would he be scared and immediately get away from it? Would he try and fix it outta guilt for how Ghirahim’s fate turned out to be? Or would he feel sorry/ nothing at all for how Ghirahim turned out?

But-

If Ghirahim was still alive but just badly wounded that would take X amount of time to heal (Like the Master Sword did in Tears of the Kingdom) do you think he would actively try and seek out Sky to end his life for revenge for his fallen master? (If so would he be close to ending Sky but would still be too weak to actually properly kill him and just end up nearby waiting for a chance to end him?)

Or: Would Sky find/ spot Ghirahim and offer to wield his sword in order to save him, or, would Sky give the sword spirit mercy and put him out of his misery and finally put him to rest? (If so, how would Wars [or whoever it was rip my memory] react to seeing Sky put another sword spirit out of their misery even if they were badly wounded/ hella sick?)

Sorry, this is so long! I wanted to be clear on what I was asking and what your thoughts were based on these two scenarios!

I have to be… really, really careful with what I say here.

First off, I am a Skyward Sword FANATIC. I’m obsessed with Skyward Sword and have been since I was quite literally seven years old. There’s a reason that the majority of my ideas are about Sky. So this is gonna have some Skyward Sword spoilers!! Just putting that warning in!!

At the very end of Skyward Sword, when Demise is dying, his sword is the first thing to be destroyed. He stuck it into the ground to lean on, and then it literally disintegrated. Into dust. Gone. Demise watched it disappear and then cursed Sky, and then he himself started to disintegrate. After all that, the dust the Demise became was absorbed into the Master Sword to be destroyed over time. Fi did not say how long it would take for Demise’s remains to be destroyed, but she was pretty clear in her purpose.

My entire life, I’ve kind of operated in the belief that Ghirahim was also absorbed into the Master Sword and destroyed. But maybe that’s not the case? Maybe the remains of his sword still lie within the Battlefield of Demise, where the Goddess’s power cannot reach. Maybe he’s recovering, biding his time, maybe he has been rebuilding himself for thousands of years. Maybe he did get absorbed, but has not been destroyed (as he is not Demise). Maybe he’s just trapped within the Master Sword, weakened and shattered, strapped at the side of the unknowing Chosen Hero.

Bro, I can’t tell you what exactly Demise did to Ghirahim. When he pulled the sword out of his chest??? And then took his spirit into the sword??? How Ghirahim laughed??? That traumatized me as a kid and it’s still burned into my memory.

It also traumatized Sky. I’m not going to reveal all of my cards right now. But I can tell you- what you mentioned about guilt- that’s a HUGE part of how Sky remembers Ghirahim. Sky hated Ghirahim. But he truly believes that he did not deserve the fate that befell him. Sky just stood there. He stood and watched as Demise- did Demise kill him? He heard that manic laugh, the silence that followed it. Silent in a way it never was with Ghirahim. It still echos in his ears. He has nightmares about it.

In all honesty, if Ghirahim were still alive, he’d make it his goal not only to get revenge on Sky, but to destroy Fi. After all, the remains of his Master are sealed away inside of her, and if Ghirahim is still living, then there’s a chance that Demise is, as well.

And if Sky were to ever see Ghirahim/Ghirahim’s sword, his first reaction would be fear. And what is Sky’s fear?? It becomes power. Sky is the Godkiller, and he will not be underestimated again. Ghirahim… will not underestimate him again. The fight would be real. Ghirahim’s not playing anymore.

Neither is Sky.

This is all hypothetical, of course. I can make no promises about Ghirahim’s status. Is he alive? Is he trapped? Is he coming back? Does he exist only in Sky’s nightmares? The world may never know.

(I know)

The main thing I want to focus on here is how his memories of Ghirahim affect his relationship with Warriors. Sky has Ghirahim nightmares… a lot. And I don’t want to minimize the pain of the rest of the Chain, but Sky’s nightmares are objectively the worst. He gets them frequently, but the thing that really makes them worse than the others’ is that sometimes, he genuinely can’t tell if he’s just having a nightmare or seeing a prophecy. He doesn’t know what’s real or not and that sucks.

He has a nightmare one night. He’s fighting Ghirahim- Sword Spirit form Ghirahim (like the final battle)- and he thrusts his sword into the diamond on his chest. Ghirahim would cry out as the diamond cracked and broke, as his form wavered. Sky had won. But then he’d blink, and suddenly it’s not Ghirahim’s chest that Sky had stabbed his sword into, it’s Wars’. And Sky watches as his friend shatters around his blade.

When he wakes, it’s with tears on his cheeks and nausea swimming in his stomach. He can’t talk to Wars that day, but he finds himself staring at that diamond. Wondering if the Goddess had shown him that dream as a warning.

Is… Is Sky the monster?

With Fi gone and Ghirahim… gone, the only Sword Spirit in his life is Warriors, and he clings to Warriors for dear life. He’s so scared that his new friend will meet the same fate as the other two: either willingly going dormant or forcefully becoming a weapon. Sky will do anything to keep Warriors safe- safe from a fate that the Sword Spirit doesn’t even know about.

I know this probably didn’t answer your question. I want to be careful not to spoil too much. And also I got very caught up in my rambling. But yeah, if Ghirahim came back, Sky would fight him because Ghirahim would not give him any other choice.

If Ghirahim were too hurt/sick to fight, Sky would probably still kill him just to be done with it. Warriors would be surprised, for sure, but he trusts Sky. (And he knows how awful Ghirahim is).

Sky would never side with Ghirahim and Ghirahim’s soul purpose is to revive his Master. Which means… going after Fi, which Sky will not stand for.

Sky does feel guilty, but that manifests itself in how he interacts with Warriors, not sympathy for Ghirahim.

[robininthelabyrinth]

👌👀🤞CQL AU where the sect leader who becomes obsessed with finding and refining the Yin Iron is Jiang Fengmian.

ao3

It helped a little, Nie Huaisang thought, that Jiang Cheng looked about as unhappy to be here as anyone else – though of course it wasn’t the same at all, what with him being the leader of the indoctrination camp and the rest of them hostages against their families.

Attempt the impossible, indeed. If Jiang Fengmian thought that the Yin Metal would be able to keep Nie Huaisang’s brother from getting revenge for this, he had another thing coming.

Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang thought, knew that.

He stood in front of them during the day, saying the words he had presumably heard from his madman of a father a thousand times – we must have peace in the cultivation world, he said, eyes fixed firmly over their heads, face set in a grimace. Conflict between us leads only on the road to death, whether to our sects or to the rogue cultivators that travel outside. It will no longer be tolerated. If the rest of the world won’t agree to peace, we will give it to them; there is no line that we cannot cross to achieve our goals.

Personally, Nie Huaisang didn’t think Cangse Sanren’s death was as much of a loss as all that – with all apologies to her son Wei Wuxian, who seemed like a perfectly pleasant person if one ignored the fact that he, like Jiang Cheng, was currently acting as their jailor, albeit part-time – but he admitted that he was biased on account of, well, her having died due to finding the stupid Yin Iron sword and that being how Jiang Fengmian got into the whole business in the first place.

And now here they were, the heirs of all the Great Sects, kicking their heels while being indoctrinated. Even Wen Chao was here, looking pissy as always, and that must be driving Wen Ruohan utterly mad – say what one would about the man, murderer that he was, he hated being insulted, and forcing him to hand over one of his sons like this was an insult.

Maybe he and da-ge will be able to resolve the feud long enough to rescue us and defeat the Jiang sect jackass – I mean, sect leader, Nie Huaisang thought, not optimistically.

Still, he reassured himself, it could be worse. He, at least, had figured out how to survive.

“You said something about liquor that tasted like candy?” Xue Yang asked, appearing like a ghost by his side. It was a move meant to frighten, so Nie Huaisang played along, jumping into the air and pretending to lose his head like a small child dealing with his first ghost; it made Xue Yang – a descendant of Xue Chonghai, the original Yin Metal bastard – smile like he was a child himself.

“I did,” Nie Huaisang said, brushing the dust off himself. “I also have porn, if you like.”

Xue Yang did like. Xue Yang was Jiang Fengmian’s Yin Metal expert, whether willingly or unwillingly, and that was useful, so Nie Huaisang put up with these little annoyances.

For all his clever planning, though, he hadn’t been expecting Xue Yang to know how to share.

“– he doesn’t even like me,” he heard someone say as they approached the room Xue Yang had picked for their little party, sounding full of despair, and the only reason Nie Huaisang was saying ‘someone’ rather than Jiang Cheng, whose voice it pretty obviously was, was because he didn’t understand why Jiang Cheng would be saying that.

“Jiang Cheng, it’s not that bad,” Wei Wuxian said immediately after, destroying Nie Huaisang’s remaining illusions. “You’re his son, of course he likes you –”

“He doesn’t, though. He drove my mother out back to her maternal parents, such that jiejie and I haven’t seen her in months – he doesn’t mind jiejie, because she’s like him, but I’m like my mother. He hates me! That’s why he put me here to be in charge of this stupid camp…no, don’t. I don’t want to hear you say that it’s a gesture of respect, that it shows he trust me, because it’s not. I’m only here because he can’t find a good reason to throw me in among the rest to be a prisoner.”

“You exaggerate,” Wei Wuxian said. “Uncle Jiang –”

“He wishes he were your father instead,” Jiang Cheng said, sounding tired. “You smile at him, you have a sense of humor like him, you’re brilliant and accomplished – you’re even helping him refine the Yin Metal in all sorts of new ways. The only reason you’re here at all, rather than working on the Yin Metal by his side or leading our armies, is because you asked to be here. Tell me that’s not true, if you dare.”

Wei Wuxian’s silence was damning.

“I just don’t know what I can do about it. I don’t – I’m not even expecting him to like me, you know? Not anymore. I’ve given up hope of him treating me like a son.”

“Jiang Cheng –”

“Shut up. You’re just like him! For all your talk of being righteous, you go along with what he wants just because it’s him asking, or else you wouldn’t be helping with this stupid plan of his.”

Wei Wuxian sighed. “Jiang Cheng, he’s your father and my benefactor. We have to be filial! There’s nothing to be done…where’s Xue Yang? He said he’d be bringing us something fun. That’ll be a good distraction.”

Wei Wuxian’s words were light and breezy, but he sounded disturbed, too. Like he agreed with Jiang Cheng’s conclusion that they weren’t being righteous, and it bothered him, and he wanted to find something he could do about it.

Perhaps Nie Huaisang had written the two of them off as stupid and self-absorbed jailors a little too soon.

He put a bright scared smile on his face and followed Xue Yang in. “Uh, hi!” he said, and the two young masters of the Jiang sect looked at him with circles under their eyes. “I brought liquor and porn. Do you have any snacks to go with it?”

[cqlfeels]

@lansplaining encouraged me to finish this random meta nobody asked for, so let's talk about Meng Yao, Meng Shi, and 孟母三遷 (mèng mǔ sān qiān), a proverb about good parenting.

A warning: this is super long (even for me!) and is less quality meta and more my ADHD brain jumping around a maze of loosely related ideas. Proceed with caution!

Let me start by briefly going through why I decided to write this, because it’s important. In haunting Meng Shi’s tag in my starvation for Meng Shi content, I’ve multiple times come across the idea that Meng Shi pushed Meng Yao too hard, that she should’ve been more careful with teaching him to seek his father’s approval at any cost, and that she was too naïve. I’ve never reblogged this kind of post because 1) I personally think it’s rude to go out of your way to ramble about how much you disagree with someone on their own post and 2) if this was an isolated incident I wouldn't care either way, so I didn’t want to direct this rant at anyone in particular. It’s more to do with a tendency, primarily (as far as I can tell) from fans who haven’t had much contact with Chinese culture, to oversimplify Meng Shi and make her relationship with Meng Yao slightly disturbing, and I think part of it is due to CQL basically cutting out her entire storyline (so fans simply don’t have info about her to assess her fairly) and part is due to misunderstanding what a good parent is supposed to act like in the context of Ancient China.

[Of course, Ancient China is not a very useful historical concept, not any more than “ye olde Europe” - things change a lot based on time and place - but you know. It’s fantasy. Extremely broad trends are okay in this case.]

Anyway, the idea behind the posts I mentioned is, basically, that Meng Shi (usually through no fault of her own) is to blame for Meng Yao’s obsession with power, since his desire for approval was inherited from lessons she taught him. Just to start with, I’d argue that Meng Yao isn’t power-hungry as much as he craves security and respect, but that’s a different meta. Let’s assume that she really did teach him to be Like That. Was she wrong to do so? I’m not looking for “does that make for a happy, well-adjusted childhood?” or “would you raise your own son as Meng Shi did?” - I’m trying to figure out, would she have been considered a bad mother in the context of the society she lived in? I don’t think she would’ve.

It is surprisingly hard to find texts about the obligations of parents in Ancient China. Their main obligation is to raise filial children, but I feel like that’s not very useful: whether or not parents are good parents, children are expected to be filial, so a child being filial really says more about the child than about the parent. Maybe the parent completely missed the mark and society at large was what taught the child to be filial!

We can assume, of course, that parents were to raise good people, and that by learning what a good person looked like, we could figure out whether the parent was successful, but once again, I feel like that’s pinning things on the outcome, not on the process - the best of parents can end up with an awful kid and vice versa.

While thinking about all this, it took me a frankly embarrassing amount of time to remember the story of Mother Meng and Meng Zi, but once I did, it wouldn’t leave my mind - in part because the Meng here is the exact same Meng of Meng Shi and Meng Yao (yay! fun if useless parallel!), and in part because this is a story about how a woman can successfully raise a son by herself.

Okay, so important note: one of the most influential ancient Chinese thinkers is Meng Zi (孟子 Mèng Zǐ), who is known in the West as Mencius. If you've never heard of him - he's perhaps second in importance only to Confucius. When Mencius was still a young child, his father died, so he was raised by his mother, who is usually known only as Mother Meng (in Chinese, 孟母 Mèng Mǔ.)

Mother Meng's story is told in Biographies of Exemplary Women (列女傳 Liènǚ Zhuàn), which for around 2000 years beginning around the 18th century BCE, was the most commonly used book used to educate women. The book is divided into sections, each one showing a different way women could be honorable and good. Mother Meng's story is told in the Maternal Models section (母儀傳 Mǔ Yí Zhuàn.) The story has a few parts, some of which I'll quote, always from Kinney's 2014 translation.

Before I go on to quote it, though, I'd like to establish that Mother Meng's story is so, so famous that even if Meng Shi had never read this particular book, I'm almost certain she would've been familiar with at least the outlines of Mother Meng's story. I'm not cherry picking a suitable chapter from the book, I'm literally going with the most famous story in it because Meng Shi would be most likely to know this one if she knew no other story.

Okay, the first part of the tale takes place when Mencius is a young boy and Mother Meng is a widow raising him.

The mother of Meng Ke of Zou [a different name for Mencius] was called Mother Meng. She lived near a graveyard. During Mencius’ youth, he enjoyed playing among the tombs, romping about pretending to prepare the ground for burials. Mother Meng said, “This is not the place to raise my son.” She therefore moved away and settled beside the marketplace. But there he liked to play at displaying and selling wares like a merchant. Again Mother Meng said, “This is not the place to raise my son,” and once more left and settled beside a school. There, however, he played at setting out sacrificial vessels, bowing, yielding, entering, and withdrawing. His mother said, “This, indeed, is where I can raise my son!” and settled there. When Mencius grew up, he studied the Six Arts, and finally became known as a great classicist. A man of discernment would say, “Mother Meng was good at gradual transformation.”

According to the translator's footnote, "gradual transformation" is "a childrearing technique, whereby a child is morally formed through daily exposure to correct models of behavior."

From this story comes the proverb 孟母三遷 (Mèng Mǔ sān qiān) - "Mother Meng moved three times." It's come to mean that a parent - especially the mother of a male child - should spare no efforts to provide an environment that will give their child a good education, paying particular attention to what models are surrounding them.

I'm sure I don't need to say if Meng Shi was at all familiar with this proverb (and she would probably be), she must have been very stressed out over literally raising her son in a brothel. (Here I must mention sex workers in ancient China were often essentially owned by the brothels, so literally "moving three times" wasn't really an option for Meng Shi even if she could miraculously pick up another trade.) Meng Shi did however at least try to surround Meng Yao with the accomplishments appropriate for the son of a cultivator:

Xiao-Meng, are you still learning those things lately? [...] The things your mom wants you to learn, things like calligraphy, etiquette, swordsmanship, meditation… How are those things going? [...] His mom’s raising him as a young master of a wealthy family. She taught him how to read and write, bought him all those swordsmanship pamphlets, and even wants to send him to school.

Meng Yao actually talks a little bit about “those swordsmanship pamphlets” in the only time in canon he directly shares memories about this mother:

Lan XiChen, “Your [guqin] skills are also considered quite fine outside of Gusu. Were they taught by your mother?”

Jin GuangYao, “No. I taught myself by watching others. She never taught me such things. She only taught me reading and writing, and bought a handful of expensive sword and cultivation guides for me to practice.”

Lan XiChen seemed surprised, “Sword and cultivation guides?”

Jin GuangYao, “Brother, you haven’t seen them before, have you? Those small booklets sold by the common folk. First jumbled sketches of human figures, then deliberately mystified captions.”

Lan XiChen shook his head, smiling. Jin GuangYao shook his head as well, “All of them are scams, especially to fool women like my mother and ignorant children. You won’t lose anything by practicing them, but you definitely won’t gain anything either.”

He sighed in a rueful way, “But how could my mother have known this? She bought them no matter how expensive they were, saying that if I returned to see my father in the future, I had to see him with as much competence as possible so that I don’t fall behind. All of the money was spent on this.”

See what’s happening? Meng Shi cannot physically take Meng Yao to cultivators, but she spares no efforts in giving him the closest thing she possibly can -- figuratively, we might say she moved three times.

Of course, these booklets don’t work, but as Meng Yao says, how could she have known this? The cultivation world is very closed off - think of how the entire Mo household gathers to see Lan juniors, and how Wei Wuxian mentions once that “Cultivation families, in the eyes of common folk, are like people favored by God, mysterious yet noble.” Not just noble, but mysterious. That tracks, too - I mean, they live in inaccessible households and mostly leave to night hunt or visit each other, neither of which is an activity that would allow commoners to get much more than an occasional glimpse of them.

Now, if Meng Shi doesn’t even know that a pearl for Jin Guangshan was just a trinket, if she doesn’t know even the wealth of a major sect, how can she read booklets and decide whether that’s genuine cultivation or not? All that she sees is a chance for Meng Yao to be surrounded by the ideas and skills of the people she wants him to emulate - cultivators - and therefore she does everything she can to get him that chance. Mother Meng moved three times.

Okay, but maybe the argument is not “Meng Shi shouldn’t have pushed Meng Yao to cultivation” but rather “she should’ve pushed him, just not too hard." To that, I present another tale from Mencius' childhood:

Once, when Mencius was young, he returned home after finishing his lessons and found his mother spinning. She asked him, “How far did you get in your studies today?” Mencius replied, “I’m in about the same place as I was before.” Mother Meng thereupon took up a knife and cut her weaving. Mencius was alarmed and asked her to explain. Mother Meng said, “Your abandoning your study is like my cutting this weaving. A man of discernment studies in order to establish a name and inquires to become broadly knowledgeable. By this means, when he is at rest, he can maintain tranquility and when he is active, he can keep trouble at a distance. If now you abandon your studies, you will not escape a life of menial servitude and will lack the means to keep yourself from misfortune. How is this different from weaving and spinning to eat? If one abandons these tasks midway, how can one clothe one’s husband and child and avoid being perpetually short of food? If a woman abandons that with which she nourishes others and a man is careless about cultivating his virtue, if they don’t become brigands or thieves, then they will end up as slaves or servants.” Mencius was afraid. Morning and evening he studied hard without ceasing. He served Zisi [a great scholar whose grandfather was Confucius] as his teacher and then became one of the most renowned classicists in the world.

Notice that Mother Meng moved three times to ensure Mencius would have the highest of aspirations - to become a scholar. But just aspiration isn’t enough. Not by any means. Now that Mencius is actually studying, Mother Meng is willing to take an extreme action to ensure he's taking it seriously. Mencius doesn't have a father to smooth his path to success. He has to learn that aspiring to greatness isn't enough. He'll have to put in the effort as if his life depended on it. And if he doesn't persist in his hard work, everything he's done thus far will be useless. Sounds like a lesson imparted on young Meng Yao, doesn’t it?

A lot of fandom rage towards Meng Shi would apply to China's Best Mom Contender, Mother Meng. She gives her son big dreams, and teaches him how to go about achieving them in a society where failing is easier than succeeding. Yes, it's fair to say that Meng Shi taught Meng Yao to refuse to settle for anything less than being “Jin Guangshan's son, a respected cultivator.” Yes, it's also fair to say that she probably didn't allow him much time to play like children his age did. But unfortunately, in the world of MDZS, poor children probably wouldn't get to play anyhow, the difference is that they'd usually be working, not studying. Studying is a privilege! It’s a privilege Meng Yao could not afford but was given to him anyway, through his mother’s many sacrifices. We can even say that while she was alive, Meng Shi was trying to ensure Meng Yao would one day have a better life, at the expense of a fun childhood - and that's very Mother Meng of her, whatever our modern Western sensibilities might have to say about that.

Finally, I’d skip other tales (which show Mother Meng and an adult Mencius) and go straight to the poem that ends the Mother Meng section:

The mother of Mencius

Was able to teach, transform, judge, and discriminate.

With skill she selected a place to raise her son,

Prompting him to accord with the great principles.

When her son’s studies did not advance,

She cut her weaving to illustrate her point.

Her son then perfected his virtue;

His achievements rank as the crowning glory of his generation.

I’d like to focus on the last verse - “His achievements rank as the crowning glory of his generation.” All that Mother Meng wanted was for Mencius to not completely ruin his life, but he became great. You can so very easily see a parallel with how Meng Shi hoped Meng Yao would be a cultivator but he became Jin Guangyao, Chief Cultivator, styled Lianfang-zun, one of the Three Venerable, hero of the Sunshot Campaign.

Of course you can say “Jin Guangyao did many Very Wrong Things to get there, though!” Which, sure, okay, fair point. How many and how wrong depends on which canon we're discussing, and your own interpretation, but there’s no version of the story in which Jin Guangyao is 100% an innocent child uwu. But blaming that on Meng Shi is just... straight up weird? I don’t see anyone going “If Jiang Fengmian hadn’t adopted Wei Wuxian, he’d never have dared become Yiling Laozu!” and that’s pretty much the same logic. Would street kid Wei Wuxian have invented a new type of cultivation if he had never been taken in by the Jiang? Probably not, but raising undead armies is very much not something Jiang Fengmian could’ve predicted. In the same way, how could Meng Shi have predicted that teaching her pre-adolescent son “You are the son of a cultivator, act like one and earn your place in society” would’ve ultimately resulted in innocent deaths? How could she predict “You’re not destined to having the same horrible life I did, you can get something better than this” was a bad thing to teach? I quite honestly don’t know.

Finally, I'd like to point towards a much flimsier evidence that Meng Shi did great as a parent. And that is Meng Yao’s love. Nie Huaisang at some point comments Meng Shi is someone who Meng Yao "cherishes more than his life," and I think his assessment is correct.

Even putting aside the fact he built a whole temple to get his mother to reincarnate into a better life, and even putting aside how he refuses to flee the country without her remains, there's still crystal clear evidence that Meng Shi must've done something right. Because a lifetime of people using his mother to bully him doesn't seem to have made Meng Yao resent her. Had their relationship not have been very strong, odds are he'd feel bitter and/or ashamed of her. That doesn't seem to be the case. He's attached to her even decades after her death.

I want to be very careful with equating mutual affection with good parenting, though. When I was a rather rebellious teenager, my mother (in typical Chinese fashion) used to say that parents and children don't have to love each other as long as they're dutiful to each other, by which she meant that a parent-child relationship isn't informed by warm and fuzzy feelings, but by whether you'd be willing to do anything for each other. Specific to my case, she meant "I don't care if it makes you hate me, you will do as you're told because that's what's best for you." (That may also be the reason why people more familiar with Chinese culture see the Jiang family less as outright abusive and more as #complicated, but that's another meta.)

Whether your kid wants to hug you every time they see you is of no consequence to traditional Chinese thought - raising them to be the best they can is all that matters, because at the end of the day, you won't be around forever, but you can definitely set up your kid's life so that it goes smoothly and virtuously. How that's accomplished varies depending on many factors, but to have the goal be "I want my child to love me" rather than "I want to raise my child right" would've been considered selfish as hell.

So even if all that Meng Shi had given Meng Yao had been stern lessons about the need to go get his birthright, she would've still have been considered a good mother!! In fact, she would've been doing everything she was supposed to do, under extremely difficult conditions! (Remember the importance of environment? That Meng Yao grew up to want to be a cultivator despite having probably never even met one speaks wonders about Meng Shi's childrearing powers!!)

But just based off how over the top Meng Yao's filal dutifulness is, I'd go a step further and say that even as she did the impossible, she was also loving enough to inspire genuine affection. This is complicated because children who have present fathers could expect their mothers to be tender with them. The first century BCE text 禮記 Lǐ Jì or The Classic of Rites says that:

Here now is the affection of a father for his sons - he loves the worthy among them, and places on a lower level those who do not show ability; but that of a mother for them is such, that while she loves the worthy, she pities those who do not show ability - the mother deals with them on the ground of affection and not of showing them honour; the father, on the ground of showing them honour and not of affection.

But when the father figure is lacking for any reason, the mother must abandon her tenderness because someone must guide the child, and without a father, the role falls to the mother. A single or widowed mother had to be very careful to not smother their children with affection and raise useless, spoiled kids, or so it was thought. (The presence of Qingheng-jun and Lan Qiren is why Madame Lan can be so affectionate with the Lan boys, by the way - if she was raising them by herself she would've been expected to be much more practical. AUs where she just gets her kids and runs away could do very cool things with this idea. But I digress!)

Where was I? Oh, okay. Because Meng Yao seems to not just respect, but actively miss her, it seems that Meng Shi somehow managed to deal with her son on the ground of both honor and affection, to paraphrase.

So basically, all things considered, it seems not only would Meng Shi have been considered a great mom (if people could look past her being a prostitute, anyway) but she also went above and beyond the bare minimum. She truly spared no efforts on any front to make sure her son had everything your average gongzi would have - someone to teach him and someone to love him, access to education and confidence in his birthright. That she couldn't actually make him a cultivator, that she couldn't actually raise him in a proper home with no one being cruel to herself or him - that's immaterial. Even Mother Meng couldn't control what her neighbors did, only what she taught her son! The key point is Meng Shi tried. She did everything she could to educate her son right. You couldn't ask more of her, and quite honestly, you should probably be asking less.

Of course we can't err on the other extreme and say she was Perfect. Given MXTX only ever writes flawed characters, we can safely assume that if we'd known more about Meng Shi, we would've seen many flaws. Indeed, just the fact she didn't teach Meng Yao the guqin when he apparently wanted to learn it might point to some conflict we don't know enough to speculate about (maybe she focused too much on cultivation when Meng Yao's interests lay elsewhere? Maybe she wasn't able to sufficiently shelter him and he felt it'd be a burden to ask her to teach him anything? Maybe maybe maybe, go wild with your fics.) Nevertheless, I would never hold a female character to a higher ideal than a male character - if the male cast of MDZS can be a hot mess and still be admirable for what they're trying to do, then so can Meng Shi.

At the end of the day, when I look at Meng Shi - and I've made myself a document with all the references to her in the novel canon so I could easily contemplate her life and character - all I see is a woman every bit as determined and resourceful as her son, willing to do everything it took to raise her little boy into the sophisticated and ambitious man he became.

Finally, here's a fun little parallel that I'm 100% sure was unintentional but I still love. I said Meng Shi couldn't have moved three times. She couldn't, but I think maybe she taught her son he was worth moving three times for. Qinghe Nie. Qishan Wen. Lanling Jin. Isn't that super fun to think about?

Alternatively, tl;dr: Oh My God I Can't Believe We're Blaming Women For The Actions Of Their Adult Children In The Year Of Our Lord 2k21, Meng Shi Was Doing Her Best, Chill!

[pregnant-piggy]

The Crow’s Nest

The Crows x reader

words: 12.1k

warnings: underage drinking, fire, character death, guns

A/N: am I slowly indoctrinating you with my pirate obsession? perhaps... ;) this is based on a dream I had while reading the first book and it wouldn’t leave me until I had written it. Let me know what you think of it! <3

translations (part real languages, part fictional):

Teufel -- devil

Fortell meg -- tell me

Jer elsker pe -- I love you

Faen -- fuck, damn

Goede morgen -- good morning

The grey waves hit against the hull of The Teufel, rocking the ship back and forth in the restless water. The howling wind creeped around every corner, finding even the warmest spots to cool the air and sparing no one from its breeze. The old sails fluttered in the force of the wind and loud slaps could be heard whenever the canvas hit against the mast. Little raindrops were falling from the sky, creating a layer of damp on everything in the open. 

Thunder sounded far away in the sky, back in the open sea, but The Teufel was going the other way. Kerch was approaching steadily and if the winds didn’t turn suddenly, the ship would reach land before the sun had fully set. 

The coastline of Ketterdam, the city The Teufel would arrive at, was peculiar with its high buildings and built-up streets. The lights of the city lit up the sky like an orange halo in the darkening heavens. 

You leaned with two arms on the railing of the ship, watching the city approach over the water. Behind you the strongest members of the crew were working on the sails, steering the schooner into the right direction. You listened to the shouts and orders with half an ear, imagining what the city of Ketterdam would be like and where you would go after the ship had moored. Unlike many of the older ones in the crew you had never been to Kerch before. In the last two years The Teufel hadn’t gotten close to the island, finding enough profit near the coasts of Novyi Zem. Three weeks ago, however, the captain had ordered to turn the sails and head South, much to your delight. 

Your entire life you had heard stories about Kerch. When you were very little, you had asked your grandmother over and over again to tell you about her trips to Ketterdam. Though you had been too young to understand most of what her stories meant, you had adored how your grandma was able to take you to a different world with her words only. It was a gift that you most admired and one that she had passed on to you. 

Your parents passed away in a futile attempt to protect the town against the brutality of the land’s council. You had been just seven years old and the surviving neighbours hadn’t known what to do with you, so you had been sent to a boarding school in the countryside. Far away from the danger of the city they’d said, but you had known it was just to get rid of you. You had grown up in a strict environment, in a house full of stern teachers and meek children. But even there you hadn’t forgotten about your grandmother’s stories. Although the students thought you were odd, they would all gather around you in the sleeping hall after midnight when the teachers were to bed and you would tell them a story the same way your grandma had told them to you. 

The older you had gotten the more trouble you’d seemed to cause. Obeying the rules had soon proven not to be something for you, at least not when you thought the rules were useless. With every year you’d grown older, you had found more ways to plant mischief. The punishments had gotten harder every time but you had refused to bend to their rules. Eventually they had been the one to give up and they had kicked you out of the school. At the age of fourteen you had been a homeless orphan only good for trouble. 

For weeks you had travelled on your own and you had ended up at the harbour, where you had stumbled upon The Teufel. At first the captain had refused to take you on; he had no use for a child. It had been your talent to speak Kerch, Ravkan and a little bit of Fjerdan that had gotten you on board the ship that would become your new home. 

For the past two years you had travelled along with the crew, learning to live on the ocean. Not a moment you had regretted your decision. The crew had accepted you as part of their family. The captain, Nerseh, had taken you on as his own daughter, learning you the tricks of maintaining a crew. Mayranoush, the quartermaster, was a strict woman who had at first scared you because she had seemed to be so much like your teachers at the boarding school. After a while you had gotten used to her, however, and it was from her that you had learnt how to shoot and how to read people’s faces like an open book. From the sailing master you learned how to read maps and the gunners had tried to teach you how to aim, but you had never mastered that skill. Stefan had taught you how to fight with a sword, Marina taught you the ropes and Hai learned you basic first aid and other cures that were necessary in combat. 

In two years you had learned enough to make yourself useful on the ship and you had grown from just their translator to a valuable member of the crew. The Teufel was your home and you could not think of a better place for you. 

“Are you excited?” Stefan stood next to you and followed your gaze to the skyline of Ketterdam. 

You tore your eyes from the city and looked at the big blond man with his bright blue eyes. When you first stepped on the ship he was the first one of the crew to approach you and you had been surprised by the Fjerdan’s conviviality. Your teachers had always taught you that the people from Fjerda were cold and distant. But ten minutes spent in Stefan’s company proved all of that wrong. He had guided you in your first weeks and now he was your best friend, and your first friend. 

“I am,” you nodded. “I’ve been dreaming about this place since I was a toddler. I can’t wait to see what it's like.” 

Stefan smiled at you and leaned down on the railing next to you, his arm against yours. A warm feeling washed over you and sparkles shot through your upper body. The wind had died down to a light breeze and your hair wavered behind your neck as the wind blew directly into your face. A scent of smoke, burned sugar and oil filled your nose and you closed your eyes, taking in the smell and registering the different scents. This was the essence that your grandmother had talked about and now you were experiencing it yourself. 

When you opened your eyes you noticed that Stefan was watching you intently. You smiled and raised one arm from the railing so you could turn to him. He wanted to say something to you, you could see it in his face. “What is it?” 

“Nothing,” he stammered, his pale cheeks blossoming red immediately. 

“Fortell meg, Fjerdan,” you ordered Stefan to tell you and, though you didn’t think it was possible, his cheeks got even redder. 

The big, blushing man looked away from you and cleared his throat. His gaze was pointed at his feet and then he turned it to the horizon. The wind was playing with the blond curls of his hair, that looked golden in the light of the setting sun. He cleared his throat again and then he mumbled something. 

“I can’t hear you, doofus,” you laughed and nudged your shoulder against Stefan’s arm. “A little louder, please.” 

Stefan sighed and turned his head to look at you. He took a deep breath and placed his hand on your upper arm. The feeling of his warm hand on your bare arm made your heart flutter. Your lips parted and you sucked in a little breath. 

“Jer elsker pe,” Stefan whispered. I love you. 

Your heart stopped. The pulse in your chest disappeared for a moment and when your heart beat again, it did twice as hard. Stefan was no Heartrender but you were sure he could hear your heartbeat too. 

“Stefan, I—” you started, taking Stefan’s other hand in yours. 

However before you could go on, Captain Nerseh appeared from his hut and started shouting over the main deck. “Stefan! I need you up front!” Nerseh said and he walked to the forecastle deck, ordering the rest of the crew on his way. Stefan was still standing in front of you, your hands holding his but his face turned to the captain. This one turned around. “Now, please!” 

The Fjerdan let go of you and hurried away, leaving you on your own. You held onto the railing for support as you felt your weight shift to your legs. All the excitement you had felt just mere minutes ago had now completely vanished and you looked around panicky. Not even a lifetime on sea could have prepared you for that. 

-=-=-

The Jolly Roger was changed for a neutral flag with the colours of Novyi Zem and The Teufel navigated into the Fifth Harbour of Ketterdam. Once the anchor had been lowered and the ship lay still, a small party was sent out to get stock while the others were free to go wherever they wanted. 

Stefan was sent with the quartermaster, Mayranoush, and Hai for food and ammunition and he was off the schooner before you could follow him. You watched him leave the Harbour, standing on the main deck. His blonde hair shone in the last rays of sunshine and he was visible for a long time, until his figure disappeared in the bigger crowd. Gone before you could talk to him. 

“I want y'all back at twelve bells,” Captain Nerseh said and he waved the rest of the crew off. 

Hesitantly you walked off The Teufel onto the docks. The first few steps were wobbly and uneven, as it had been a few weeks since you had last walked on land, but after shaking your feet and legs, you got used to walking again. Those familiar tingles, that you always got when walking on shore after so long on sea, shot through your legs and you were filled with a mix of anxiety and excitement. 

Here on land the scent was even stronger, luring you into the streets. You glanced back at The Teufel over your shoulder and shrugged off the uneasy feeling you got at the thought of leaving your home behind in the harbour. Pulling up your boots a little, you turned away and stepped into the city, finally experiencing what you had dreamed of for so long. 

The streets of Ketterdam were unlike any other place you had ever been. Big crowds of tourists and inhabitants were moving as one through the small streets of the Lid. Men, women and children all walked through each other, barely taking notice of the persons passing them. The lights coming through the shop windows casted yellow and white shapes on the cobblestoned ground, with which the shadows of the people danced. 

You followed the crowd into the buzzing parts of town, falling in step with the other tourists. Many years ago your grandmother had told you that the Lid was filled with gambling houses and it was the place where the most tourists stuck around. And indeed, as you walked on the crowd gradually got thinner with people leaving right and left to fall into the temptation of the colourful buildings decorated with bright lights. Faint music combined with the loud chatter of people in all languages hung in the salty air, like a blanket that was thrown over this part of the city. 

However, all that you could think of was Stefan’s face and his words. Jer elsker pe. In a haze you walked through the busy streets, hearing Stefan’s voice over and over in your head. His touch was imprinted on your skin, the place where his hand had been was burning hot on your arm. 

You had known, that was the worst part. For a few weeks you had known. You had sensed it whenever he was looking at you or when he was touching you. The look on his face was different from before. There had been a softness on the Fjerdan’s face that hadn’t been there before. A weakness. It was an undeliberate thought, but it made its way in your mind anyway. If the past ten years of your life had taught you one thing it was that you had to hide your weaknesses. From enemies and friends. 

It had been a particular hot night at the boarding school and you hadn’t been able to sleep. That day a new girl had arrived at the school and she’d sat down next to you at breakfast. Many of the others had scowled at her but she had ignored them and instead introduced herself as Lotty. It was the first time that someone had voluntarily come to you and the rest of the day you had spent getting Lotty familiar with the school and its surroundings. 

You’d heard the girl stirring next to you and padded over to her. Upon seeing your face, a smile had spread on Lotty’s face and you had whispered: “Want to get out of here?”

Very cautiously you and Lotty had left the sleeping hall and on your toes you had run through the empty corridors of the school building. All the teachers had been asleep already and the big clock in the hall had showed that it was two hours after midnight. 

The front door had opened with a small squeak and the dark night air had welcomed you and Lotty outside. The gardens of the boarding school surrounded the entire building with grass, flowers and low bushes. A sweet, humid scent had hung in the air, the result of the sun that had shone on the flowers all day. 

You and Lotty had sat down in the middle of a flower bed and you had told her about everything. For the first time in your life you’d felt like you had a friend and you had trusted her with some of the secrets you knew about the school’s building. For hours you two had sat outside, until the sun had started to rise and the petals of the flowers had started to collect the morning humidity. As you had gotten up, you’d put your hand on the ground to push yourself up and you felt something crawl under your palm. You had squealed and stumbled back quickly, staring in disgust at the place where you had put your hand. There on the ground a thick spider had quickly crawled away under the flowers. 

Lotty’d started to laugh and you had scolded her. Spiders had always scared you and no matter how much you’d tried to get over it, whenever you saw one you couldn’t help but shudder. 

Back at the sleeping hall you had fallen into a restless sleep for the last few hours, dreaming of a thousand legs and jaws. When you’d woken up, Lotty hadn’t been there and at breakfast she had sat with the other children, not with you. 

The next morning you had woken up with something crawling up your arm and the sound of laughter. 

And now Stefan had shown you his weakness. Though you would never use it against him like Lotty had done to you, there was something that bothered you now you knew his weakness. What if unintentionally you would cause him trouble or danger?

“Watch where you’re going!” a man sneered and he roughly pushed past you. 

You shook your head out of your thoughts and looked around. The bright gambling dens had been replaced by small, tall and crooked houses made by all different sorts of bricks and wooden beams for support. The streets were still busy but this was a different crowd. People with comical masks and cloaks moved in little groups, quickly and rushed, as if they were afraid someone would stop them. A few people wore gaudy suits and moved proudly over the streets, their hands in their pockets. The others wore more ragged clothes in dark colours and they walked with their heads down to the ground. 

You were in the Barrel, undoubtedly. The gambling houses were still there, but more scattered. Still they weren’t much different from the ones on the Lid; a lot of dramatic lightning and flashing colours, all so that the most people would come in. 

The East Stave was on your left. You had refused ever to step foot near the brothels on the West Stave. The horrid stories that your grandmother had told you had already been enough to keep you away and the rumours you had heard from the crew on The Teufel had only added to that. 

Your legs were getting tired from walking so much and the unnerving thoughts were still whirling through your head. On The Teufel you would have searched for Stefan and gotten drunk with him hidden somewhere on the deck, but Stefan wasn’t here and The Teufel was far back in the harbour. So instead you searched for the least ostentatious building and eventually settled on a gambling club called the Crow Club. 

A silver crow hung over the entrance of the club and you looked up to it as you walked under it, entering the building. You stepped into a big hall that was parted in two by a lowered floor in the back. The black lacquered walls had no windows and all sense of night and day was lost as soon as you stepped inside. The little clock around your neck told you it was little after ten bells. That meant that you had one hour and a half before you had to go back. 

You sat on one of the crimson stools at the bar and ordered a drink from the man behind it. He eyed you for a moment and you noticed he was contemplating whether to give someone your age a drink, but he seemed to decide that profit is profit and poured you a drink. You watched him while he worked for a moment. He was not as old as you had thought him to be. The only wrinkles in his face were near the corners of his mouth and the cracks next to his eyes. His skin was dark bronze and his hair pitch black, almost like the walls around him. And what he lacked in height he seemed to be making up in strength, as his arms were muscular and he looked strong enough to throw a man twice his size out of the place. 

The drink burned in your throat, but you threw it all in anyway. For a moment your gullet was on fire and the next moment it was gone. The years among a group of adult pirates had learned you how to take your drinks. 

You asked the bartender for another and you didn’t miss the surprise on his face, but turned the other way, looking at the parlor around you. Most of the tables in the lower part of the room were occupied by a variety of people. In the left corner of the room sat a couple, their feet entangled under the table, but their eyes fanatically looking at the other. 

At a table closer to you sat a woman in a bright red dress with feathers in her hair. From your place you could see the cards in her hand and if you stretched your neck a little you could also see the cards of her neighbour. The table was playing Ridderspel, a simple card game played with the lower numbers of the cards. It was a game to make little money quickly and one of the most played card games in gambling houses everywhere. 

The woman had two sevens, an eight and a four of the crow-marked cards in her hand and she pushed forward four little red chips when the dealer asked to place the bets. Her neighbour pushed forward two grey chips and the man opposite of her one grey and one red one. The dealer collected the chips and stacked them in the middle of the table. 

On The Teufel you had played many games of Ridderspel with the crew. However, after a while they had banned you from playing games for money. It hadn’t taken long for you to see connections between the faces of people and their cards. You could see a pattern in the order they played their cards and knew after showing the first card of the game who would win.

It had started with Ridderspel. One dark night under the light of a lantern you had been playing the game with Stefan and two others of the crew, Vinay and Cilka, when you had noticed that whenever Cilka got her cards the lightest frown would form on her face if she didn’t get good cards. It was invisible to anyone else, but you saw how her eyebrows would twitch shortly. You knew that everyone had their tells, some more obvious than others, but after that night you had searched the others’ signs. Vinay’s shoulders would slump a little if he had bad cards and Stefan’s eyes would flicker shortly over the table if his cards were good. 

After you had learned their signs, you’d noticed that there was a pattern in the way they played their cards. If they had bad cards, they played the highest first, hoping to at least get a little out of the game. If they had good cards, they would hold their highest cards for the end, but they wouldn’t play their lowest card first either. It was a complicated strategy, a difficult trick on your mind, but after months of examining the game, both playing and from afar, you found the pattern. From there on it wasn’t difficult to find the patterns in other games and soon you were banned from playing games on the entire ship. 

However, whenever you were on land and there was a gambling house in the city, the crew would often ask you if you could just play some games so they could get some money. You knew that with you playing at the table the game wasn’t fair anymore, but you would do it night after night if that meant you could do something for your crew. 

Now, you knew that the woman in red had a good chance of winning the game. She tapped her fingers on her thigh and kept staring at her cards. So much for a bluffing face. The dealer asked to play the first card and the woman threw one of her sevens on the table. Not the highest and not the lowest. Her neighbours answered by throwing an eight and a five. 

The next round was played and now the woman played her four, receiving another eight and a seven. She is playing out her opponents. If they wanted to win, they would have to change the course, but you feared it was already too late for them. The woman threw her eight on the table and the others a seven and a five. The last card was played and at her seven, the woman got a six and a four. 

As the dealer started to count the points you turned away; you didn’t need to count the points to know that the woman in the red dress had won the game. 

“Another one, please,” you said to the barman in Kerch and he nodded at you. Curiosity could be read off his face even by those who didn’t have your talent of understanding facial expressions. 

When he gave you your glass his eyes lingered on your clothes and you realised how idiotic you must look in this environment. Though the people in the hall weren’t all wearing evening dresses or three-piece suits, you knew that someone in a black jacket and leather boots to their knees would stand out. Consciously you stroke a hand over the braids in your hair and looked at the bartender. 

“Don’t worry,” he said as he noticed your looks. “Many tourists come dressed up.” 

You tilted your head to the side and hesitated telling him the truth. Figuring there wouldn’t come much trouble from doing so, you sat up and shook your head. “These are my normal clothes.” 

The barkeeper cocked an eyebrow and then went on with cleaning the glasses. You stared at the brown liquid in your glass before you knocked it back and softly placed your glass back on the bar. The movement caught the attention of the man behind the bar and he lifted the bottle, silently asking if you wanted another one. 

“Sure,” you answered and pushed your glass forward. 

The way the man filled the glass reminded you of how Stefan used to fill your glass. While you preferred to drink straight from the bottle, he would always insist on taking glasses from the galley. 

“We can at least pretend we’re fancy,” he’d say, as you were hidden in the shadows of the back of the ship. 

A faint smile played on your lips as you thought back of Stefan, but your inside burned as you heard his last words back in your head. Jer elsker pe. The truth was that you weren’t quite sure if you loved Stefan back. He had always been close to you and you appreciated him being such a good friend to you, but you didn’t love him the way he loved you. At least, that’s what you thought. You had never really experienced love before, so how could you know what it felt like? 

“Maybe you should slow on those,” the bartender said as you placed yet another empty glass on the bar. 

“No,” you rasped, fighting the burn in your throat. “I’ve had worse.” 

“I can stop giving you, y’know?” the man said as you lifted your glass again for another. 

“And not get paid? You wouldn’t.” 

The barkeeper laughed and poured you another glass. This time you didn’t immediately drink it all, but you turned around on your stool and looked at the biggest table on the floor. It was an oval-shaped table, lined with the same crimson of the seat you were sitting on, and around it sat seven people. Dice lay in the middle of the table, surrounded by grey, black and red chips and a stack of cards. 

Even in the noise of the other tables and people walking between them, the conversations at the big table were clear. 

“You’re bluffing!” the man on the right shouted. He was big in all aspects someone could be big. The hems of his trousers were too high up his legs and the sleeves of his jacket were too short. The golden buttons of his blouse were about to burst and his hat kept sliding off his head because it didn’t fit well. His appearance was only mimicked more by his dark red cheeks and the little drops of sweat that were rolling down his face. 

“Am not,” the lanky, dark brown man on the other side of the table said. He had a wicked grin on his handsome face and seemed to be in his element. His feet were lying on the edge of the table and he held his cards loosely in his hand, like they were to fall any moment. 

“How could you—? You don’t— No one—” the big man started and the colour drained from his face. You had missed what the beginning of the conversation was, but surely it was not something the big man wanted to come out. 

“Maybe you should try to keep such information to yourself,” the tall guy said. “Now, are you in or out?” 

The surrounding men at the table nervously shifted in their seats as they looked at the big man. He patted his head with a silk handkerchief and stared at his cards for a moment. A new set of sweat seemed to pour over his forehead and eventually he threw his cards open on the table. ‘I’m out.’ 

The man got up from the table and he hurried away, followed by the other five men. They walked past you in a queue outside and when they were all gone, the guy at the table smiled pleased.

“He was bluffing,” you noted, after taking a quick glance at the cards that were lying open on the table. 

“What?” the barman asked, who had watched the play with you, and you were reminded that you were not alone. 

A warm rush spread in your cheeks and you turned your head to the bartender. “That guy was bluffing to scare the man away.” 

The man squeezed his eyes at you and said a little too late: “Why’d you think that?” 

“Look at the cards on the table,” you said and peered back at the big table. “That man on the left had two of the highest and the person two seats from him had another. I can’t see the cards on this side of the table, but whatever they are, this guy can never have enough to win.” 

The barman looked at you for a few seconds. “How do you know?” 

You looked out over the hall, scanning the games on other tables. “You learn things,” you shrugged and then nodded to a little table closer by. “See that guy? How he is glancing between his cards and the dealer’s hands?” The barkeeper leaned forward over the bar and looked at where you were pointing. “He has good cards and is trying not to let anyone notice it.” 

The man leaned back from the bar and filled your glass without you even asking. He rested one hand on the bar and looked at you. “Where did you learn that?” 

“Well, you have to do something on a ship,” you said, swirling the drink. “Eventually staring at the stars all night gets a bit boring.” 

The barman snorted laughingly. “You’re from a ship?” Then he looked at your outfit again and he nodded. “Now that makes a lot more sense,” he mumbled. “When did you arrive?” 

“About an hour ago,” you answered and pulled the clock from your blouse. 

Meanwhile, the handsome guy from the big table walked to the bar and he greeted the bartender as he sat down one seat away from you. You looked at him from the corner of your eye and stopped at the guns on his hips. The clock lowered without you realising and you gave up on trying to hide your stare. 

The two pearl-handled guns shone in the light from above and you shook your head in disbelief. Zemini-made revolvers were rare, and you would know. You had heard stories about them from your mates on The Teufel, but none of them had ever even had one in their hands. Only Nerseh in his younger years had owned one, but he had lost it in a battle. The Zemini guns were feared among your crew and there were two of them right next to you now. 

“See anything you like, darling?” the guy asked and your eyes shot from his revolvers to his face. He had that same mischievous smile on his lips and there was a glimmer in his eyes as he raised his eyebrow at you. 

“Those are pretty rare guns,” you said, ignoring the guy’s suggestive tone. 

He took one of the revolvers from the holster and let it twirl in his fingers. Though you didn’t want to, you felt a shiver run down your spine at the ease with which the boy handled his guns. You had gotten quite familiar with your own guns, but you had yet to learn that. 

The boy must have seen your googling eyes because he smiled a bit more real now and said: “I know, Zemini-made. You don’t find that very oft—” 

“Faen!” you interrupted in Fjerdan, using the word that you had heard Stefan say so often. You had looked at your watch and realised that it was much later than you had thought it was. It was already a quarter till midnight and it would take you at least twenty minutes to get back to the harbour. You jumped from your seat, threw some coins on the bar and straightened your coat, mumbling: “Stupid windowless walls…” 

Without sparing another look at the two guys you left behind you stormed out of the Crow Club into the street. Rain was pouring down from the sky and you shivered at the sudden cold. For a second you looked around and scanned your surroundings and then you hurried off in the direction you had come from. 

People passed you in a blur of colours and shadows as you ran over the streets, desperately trying to find a way back to the harbour. The captain wouldn’t appreciate you being late and it would most likely cause you a night scrubbing the deck on a night you actually had been free. But perhaps Stefan would accompany you. 

Your mind automatically seemed to find a way to think of your best friend. The situation in the gambling hall had taken your mind off him for a minute but now your logical senses were numbed by the alcohol the Fjerdan was back again. Stefan could’ve easily found his way back. The boy could find a route almost everywhere, even in a place you had never been before. He would just follow the direction of the sun or look at the leaves on a tree and know where you were. 

But Stefan wasn’t there to guide you back. He was probably already back at The Teufel, waiting impatiently on you. 

Every alley looked the same and all the gambling houses had the same flashy lights. You didn’t know if you were moving forward or just running in circles. Somewhere above in the sky you heard the twelve bells that told you you had to be back already. With the feeling you had passed the house on the corner of the street three times before, you ran on, ignoring the protesting people if you ran into them. You almost fell over your own feet and nearly stumbled into a girl dressed all in dark clothes. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, pushing away from her softly but when you turned around to her she was nowhere to be seen on the street. You were too much in a hurry to worry about that and ran on, sighing in relief when you saw the fluorescent lights from the Lid. 

The Lid was filled with more people than the Barrel you ran from and it was harder to manage a way through. You pushed and threw yourself between people, growing a little nauseous from the smell of so many bodies together combined with the smells that came from the kitchens around. As you hurried through the tourists, your breath was high in your throat and you could feel your heart beating in your head. Heavy breaths fell over your lips but you refused to take a moment to rest. 

The glittery lanes were soon exchanged for the dark open space of the harbour. The cobblestones echoed the sounds of your footsteps as you ran. People shot you weird looks as you raced past them. 

The closer you came to where The Teufel lay, the busier it became, but instead of searching for a reason you just hoped that you could still make it past them. However, the crowd became too big for you to run as fast as you had and you slowed your pace slightly. You zigzagged between people and pushed them aside, getting various insults thrown at your head. As you came closer to the inner circle of the crowd, you realised that they weren’t just randomly standing there; they were standing around The Teufel. 

You stopped running completely and approached the busiest part of the crowd at walking pace. Now you weren’t focusing on your own thoughts you heard that the people were all muttering and talking with each other—and that the people closer to the water were screaming and shouting. 

The few people that stood in between you and your destination you pushed aside softly and the closer you got the more you felt a strange heat on your face. When the woman in front of you stepped aside, your jaw dropped. 

There, in the water, right where it had been when you left earlier this night, lay The Teufel completely in flames. Not a single part of the main deck had been spared, flames were reaching high up in the sky, eating the masts like a monstrous creature. Thick dark grey clouds hung above the ship in the dark blue night sky. The flames curled around the hull of The Teufel, like a devil claiming its prey. Wooden walls collapsed, iron melted and ropes caught fire, sending the flames up to destroy the crow’s nest. 

Among the chaos on the shore and the sound of the fire, all you could think about was one thing. My family. The shouting and cackling couldn’t drown out the screams of terror that came from the belly of the ship. Cries for help, prayers to all gods and saints. Your crew was in there. Your people were inside of a burning ship. Your friends and family. They were all trapped. 

It could have been you. If you hadn’t lost track of time, you would’ve been there with them. You would have arrived before the twelve bells, gone inside with the others and would be trapped in there now. It could have been you, but instead it was your crew. And you didn’t know what was worse. 

There was nothing you could do. No way to run on the ship and free your mates without catching fire yourself. No way to stop that fire that was capturing The Teufel. No human could do it, no grisha either. This was more than an accidental fire, this was controlled. Don’t fight a bigger power without knowing its weaknesses. It was a phrase your father would say to you whenever you had been mad at the world as a child. The advice he had ignored before he had gone to fight his way into death. You didn’t know what the fire’s weaknesses were, if there were any weaknesses at all. All you could do was stand on the shore with your hands clasped over your chest and your eyes stuck on what had once been The Teufel. What had once been your home. 

The screams of the crew were engraving themselves in your mind, cutting you open and leaving deep wounds. The last bit of your hope had been left behind on that ship and was now burning away, leaving nothing but a hollow chest. 

Time passed by as you stood on the shore, watching the last remains of your home falling apart. You didn’t look away when the fire burst through the portholes in the hull of the ship and you didn’t flinch as you heard the last sounds you would ever hear from your crewmates. You took it all in, soaked your mind in the pain, feeling the shock and terror making place for fury. One day, you promised yourself. One day you would find a way to get revenge. 

You knew that in a city like this news would spread fast. Surely before sunrise all the people in Ketterdam would know of the ship that had burned away in Fifth Harbour. You wouldn’t be safe; not from the questions of the people and not from whoever had done this. You were sure that they wouldn’t be too keen on having missed someone from the crew before they blew it up. Chances were big that, if anyone ever found out that you had belonged to The Teufel, your days would be numbered. 

Fortunately you hadn’t told anyone you were part of The Teufel’s crew. Anyone but the barman at the Crow Club. You hadn’t literally told him, but you were sure he could put two and two together. 

Once the fire had been settled and the ashes of the wood were only still smoldering, you straightened your back. You would find the barman and ask him not to tell anyone. Or perhaps you would find your ending in the streets of the Barrel. The Teufel had been your home for two years, but it was time to get moving. 

-=-=-

The Crow Club stood proudly in front of you. Rain was running down your face, following the lines of your neck into your blouse. You were cold and your entire body was shaking but you knew that was more from the shock than the rain. In the back of your head you still heard the screams but you tried to block them out as you stepped to the gambling house. 

As you walked closer to the entrance, a boy stepped in front of the door, blocking your way. He was huge with arms full of tattoos and a mouth full of crooked teeth, some of them missing, and when you approached him you realised he was watching you. He expected me. This guy had been waiting for you, he had known that you would come back. How could he?

Hesitating you went forward. You had already seen the gun on his belt and you were quite sure if you turned around and walked away he wouldn’t be afraid to use it. In front of the boy you stopped and leaned to the side to look inside the building. 

“I’m sorry, could I go inside?” you asked, your voice mellow and innocent. “I would really like to warm up a little.” 

The man just tilted his head to the side and his lips turned into a stupid grin. His hand rested casually on his gun, though you knew that all his moves had been precisely calculated. Whether by himself or someone’s orders was your next guess. 

“You better follow me,” the boy said and his eyes glassily looked at you. 

“Do I have a choice then?” 

“No.” The man took his gun from his belt and easily pointed it to your chest. If he shot now he wouldn’t kill you, just harm you. So he wants me alive. 

“Fine, fine,” you mumbled and lifted your arms in the air to show you were defenceless. 

The guy roughly pushed you away from the door and held the barrel to your back as he led you away from the Crow Club. 

You weren’t sure why the boy didn’t just put a bullet through your head. If he was part of whoever had burned down The Teufel, why would he want you to stay alive? The rest had been murdered mercilessly, what did they have in mind for you? 

However, if he wasn’t not part of the fire, why did he want to have you at all? You couldn’t think of anything you had done wrong or of any danger you could be. You were pretty much just a harmless teen in a strange city. 

The man pushed you through the street and over a bridge. You made a few turns into small alleys and streets, passing houses in all shapes and kinds. Behind some windows flickered a soft light, others were dark. You heard screaming from one house and music from the house next to it. Laughter of children and cursing from adults. 

You stopped in front of a house that looked exactly like all the others; crippled and on the brink of collapse. The guy held his gun to you as he kicked open the door and then pressed the barrel deeper in your back to make you walk. Slowly you passed over the threshold and stood still in the hall of the house. 

Much different from what you had expected, the inside of the house was not damaged like the outside. While the colours and construction did look old, the house was built to survive for longer than just a few years. 

“Up,” the man mumbled and he nodded to the stairs. 

You followed his order and headed up the stairs, feeling your legs ache from all the walking on land you had done in the past hours. Though you got used quite fast to the difference, a sudden change from sea to shore did have its effects on your body. Especially if you crossed an entire city twice in one night. 

The staircase led to a landing with many doors. The house wasn’t particularly big and with that many doors, you figured the rooms must be small. You wondered what this house was used for. It almost had the feeling of a hostel, but there wouldn’t be many guests if putting a gun to someone’s head was their way of advertising. 

“That room,” said the guy and he gestured at one of the doors in the corridor. 

The wooden planks creaked under the weight of your body. The door of the room was closed and the man with the gun knocked on it with much more restraint than you expected from someone who had just abducted you from the streets. 

It was silent for a moment as you and the man waited for the door to open. Your heart was beating in your throat and you swallowed deeply. Nerves were running through your body, sending tingles down to your fingertips. 

The door opened and before you had time to look inside, the guy pushed you inside and closed the door again behind you. You were inside a small room, with a bed, a chair and a closet that put half the room in shadows. On the wall opposite of the door was a little window, showing the side of another building that stood next to the house. The window reminded you of the portholes inside the hold of a ship, your least favourite place as there was very little light. 

However, the room didn’t have much space in your mind as your attention was caught by the person in the room. He could not be much older than you yet it felt like this boy had more character than an old man. His face was hidden in the shadows but you could make out the hard lines framed by sleek black hair. His eyes shone like emeralds under his dark brows and there was a malicious glance in them when they rested on you. 

“Sit,” he spoke and the rock salt rasp of his voice sent shivers down your spine. “Please.”

You sat down on the simple wooden chair in the middle of the room, though you rather would’ve kept standing. The boy was towering over you now, standing in front of you, leaning on his cane. Your eyes slid to the silver handle under his gloved hands. It had the shape of a crow’s head.  

 “Who are you?” you asked, trying to calm the nerves you felt rushing through you. You weren’t necessarily afraid of the boy, but you also couldn’t deny the unease in your body.

The boy cocked his head to the side and the smallest wicked grin played on his lips. “An hour ago a ship was set ablaze in Fifth Harbour,” the boy said and you looked away from his stern gaze. “The Teufel. A rather bold way of naming a ship, after the devil, isn’t it? Nothing is left of The Teufel, no plank, no crewmate. Or at least, so is said. That is why you are here, not y/n?” 

Your head snapped up to the boy and your eyes narrowed at him. “You know my name?” 

“I know lots, y/n, and your name happens to be on that list,” the boy said and it was a little harder for him to hide his smirk. He’s enjoying it, you realised in disbelief. This is what he’s trained for. “I also know that you are the only living crewmate and that you visited my club this evening.” 

“Your club?” You frowned—he seemed way too young to have a successful gambling club. 

“Yes, my club,” the boy repeated and he shifted his weight, letting a sigh fall from his lips. “You sat at the bar and ordered more drinks in two hours than an average adult would in four hours.” 

You looked back at your feet. You knew you had trouble staying away from the drinks, but that didn’t make it any nicer when someone pointed it out. At sea it had never really mattered—the others had drunk with you and as long as you did your duties successfully the captain didn’t care if you were sober or not. 

“You spoke with no one and just watched the games, until my barman got some information out of you,” the boy went on and you felt his gaze on you. “He said you were able to determine the outcome of the game after just the first card was played.” 

“So?” you shrugged. Surely that was not why the boy had gotten you there and it was definitely not something that was on your mind right now. All you could think of were the screams and the longer you sat in the dark room, the more cramped it became. 

“Can you?” 

“I don’t see how—” 

“Answer the question.” His voice was hard and cold, but laced with curiosity that he failed to hide from you. 

“I guess I can, yes.” 

The boy stayed silent for a while and the tension in the room reached for your throat. You had never been one for small rooms, that’s why you had chosen for the sea. And now the anxiety of all that had happened that night was piling up on your chest, like someone pressing down on you. The walls were closing in on you, leaving you gasping for breath. Your clothes were still wet and your hair stuck to your forehead and neck, but you were no longer cold. 

You clenched your hands around the fabric of your blouse, feeling it crumple between your fingers. But even in your panicked state you could see the change in demeanor in the boy. He planned this. He had known this would happen, he had deliberately put you in this room, knowing what it would do to you. 

“What do you want from me?” you breathed, looking up to meet his eyes, and then added with an intensity you didn’t know was in you: “Did you kill them?” 

The hard expression on the boy’s face fell for a moment as he looked at you. For a minute he turned into a boy his age, someone with a soul. “I promise you I didn’t kill them. I had nothing to do with the fire.” Then he straightened his back and slammed his cane on the floor, pulling himself out of the moment. “I have business. We’ll continue in the morning.” 

The boy limped to the door and the cane suddenly made more sense. He pulled the door open and stepped through it when you interrupted him. 

“Who are you?” 

He looked over his shoulder and casted a dark glance at your figure. You had stood up from your chair and were still holding onto the back for balance. There was an expression on his face that you couldn’t read and you feared that it wouldn’t be the last time that happened. 

“Kaz Brekker. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

-=-=-

The mattress you were lying on was lumpy and hard, forcing your back to straighten in a way it never had to. The blanket was itchy and heavy and pressed hard on your chest, not allowing you to take deep breaths. 

You were shifting in and out of sleep, unable to tell reality from imagination. One moment you were staring at the dark ceiling above you, the next you were sitting alone in the hold of The Teufel. The room around you moved in front of your eyes, the shadows dancing on the walls. In the ship, water slowly rose around you. You tried to get up, tried to run away, but it was as if you were glued to the floor. Unable to move you sat waiting for the rising water to reach for your throat. 

Something moved in the room. It was a flicker of a shadow in the corner of your eye but enough for you to notice. You forced your eyes open, but the water was rising so quickly it was impossible for you to focus on anything else. The water level was at your jaw now. You took a final breath and the shadow in the room moved again. Closing your eyes against the water, it rose above your nose. 

Then there was more movement. The shadow was coming closer to you, moving with the grace of a cloud. 

Feeling the water on your face, you opened your eyes and shot up in the bed. The water disappeared and you were in the dark room again, shaking and coughing. Yet the threat wasn’t gone; the shadow was still in the corner. 

You shifted to the side and rested your back against the cold wall, looking at the shadow in anticipation. While your heart was beating in your throat, you calmly looked ahead of you until the shadow moved from the corner. 

“How did you see me?” the shadow asked and you shrugged. 

“You move like a spider.” And I’m afraid of spiders. 

Out of the shadows stepped a young girl, hidden in a flowy cloak that moved along with her. The lack of light threw a veil over the room, covering it with a black and white filter, but still you could make out the brown skin of the girl and her almost black eyes, that were staring right at you. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, though it would be no surprise if the girl had something to do with your meeting with Brekker a few hours ago. 

“Look,” the girl said and she moved to sit next to you on the bed. You caught a shimmer of something near her wrists, but when you looked at her she was wearing a light smile. “This isn’t the worst place to end up. You have walked through these streets; you know where you could have ended.” 

You thought back of earlier this evening when you were walking through the roads of the Barrel for the first time. The girl was right; if you hadn’t been brought to where you were now you could have turned into the colourless types that you had seen or, worse, you could have ended up in one of the brothels. 

“Kaz doesn’t just take anyone in,” the girl continued. “He must think you have some use, or he would have left you on the streets.”

You snorted; that wasn’t exactly a much better prospect. 

The girl must have guessed your thought because she chuckled shortly. “I know it does not seem like it now, but trust me—this is the right place to be.” 

Silence filled the room for a minute as you thought about the girl’s words. Instinct told you that you could trust her, and that her trust once lost, was lost forever. There were so many questions you wanted to ask her but you were afraid of the answers. You preferred mystery over knowledge right now. 

The shadow girl was looking at you with pity on her face, like she felt bad for your situation. There was sympathy behind her eyes and compassion in her touch as she placed her hand shortly over yours, giving it the lightest squeeze. 

“What’s your name?” you asked, your throat tightening at the threat of tears. 

The girl stared at you for a second and then she gave you a smile. “Inej,” she said. “But you might hear of me as the Wraith.” 

Inej got up from her place on the bed and walked to the door. Her cloak fluttered behind her through the air as she walked, falling against her legs when she halted. She turned around to you. “Kaz will send someone to get you in the morning.” 

“What will happen?” 

“I don’t know what he has planned,” Inej sighed. “But I advise you to go along with it, or it might be the last you’ll do.” 

She shot you a final smile and left the room silently. The shadow disappeared as quietly as it had come. 

-=-=-

You didn’t know if you had slept at all. Undoubtedly you had dozed off for a while, but for most of the night you had just lain on your back staring at the stains on the ceiling above you. When the morning sun had brightened your room, the hope that it might all be a dream had disappeared when reality came in crashing hard. 

The clothes you had worn last night had dried from the rain, but they no longer brought the comfort they used to. Here wearing those clothes meant that you stood out; you couldn’t blend in. When the same guy as last night had knocked on your door and ordered you to follow him you had left your jacket behind, deciding that the rest of your outfit was conspicuous enough on its own. 

Last night in the dark the house had been silent, but now you heard noise everywhere. There were many more doors than you had thought and behind every one lay a secret. The house seemed bigger now it was light. Although there was no direct sunlight in the corridors you could sense that it was day. Last night you had felt mystery as you had walked through the corridors but now it felt more like the boarding school you had gone to with all the whispers. 

“Where are we going?” you asked the boy who had brought you to this house. 

“Crow Club,” he grumbled and then kept silent. 

You walked the same route you had last night, but now the streets were deserted and the houses quiet. The Barrel was the part of Ketterdam that lived at night. 

The big, silver crow that hung above the entrance of the Crow Club like a guardian quickly came to your sight and you shivered lightly. Entering that club was what had gotten you in this situation and you feared you would only get deeper in this mess when you entered again. 

However, the big guy behind you left you no choice and before you even had time to think he had already pushed you over the threshold. 

Stumbling inside you were greeted by the same black, windowless walls and the same stuffed scent. The crimson stools at the bar were unoccupied but the tables on the gambling floor were played on, despite the early hours. Games of Ridderspel and Spijker were in full motion as you were led through a door on the side of the room. 

“Close the door behind you, Pim,” a voice from the shadows said and the boy who had led you there, apparently named Pim, closed the door. 

You looked at the strange scene in front of you. You hadn’t known what to expect but it sure wasn’t a gambling parlor. There was one big table in the middle of the room and around it stood eight chairs. Only one of the chairs was occupied and with a jolt you recognised the boy from the Zemeni guns. 

“Goede morgen,” he smiled at you as he leaned back in his chair. “Care for a game?” 

“What?” You stood rooted to the ground, staring in confusion at the guy at the table. 

From the shadows on the side of the room Kaz Brekker stepped. The loud, rhythmic thud from his cane on the floor was the only sound in the room as he walked to the table. He stopped in the middle and looked up at you with his hard cold gaze. 

“Play a game,” he said, resting his two hands on the crow head of his cane. 

“I don’t understand,” you tried. 

“It’s easy,” Brekker said. “You said you were good at card games, right? So prove it—play a game with Jesper.”

Jesper, the boy at the table, flashed his smile full of white teeth at you and raised his eyebrows. It felt like a trap, but you couldn’t forget what Inej had said to you that night. I advise you to go along with it, or it might be the last you’ll do. An invitation to a game wouldn’t be your end. 

Behind you Pim stepped closer to you and put his hand on your shoulder to push you forward. Within a second you had turned around and taken hold of his arm, twisting it dangerously close to breaking. The boy looked at you with somewhat of fright on his face and there was a little wave of triumph in your stomach. The emotions of the situation got the better of you and your heart was racing as you felt the anger rushing through your veins.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed through gritted teeth and pushed his arm a little further. “Understand?” 

Pim’s eyes flashed to the two people behind you and he recollected himself. He pulled his arm from your grip and stepped back to the door, avoiding your eyes and looking gruffly ahead. 

You turned around and found Jesper looking at you in awe and even Brekker couldn’t hide his surprise. Then you nodded at the two men and took a seat on the opposite side of the table. “Let’s play then.”

Brekker nodded approvingly and shuffled the cards with his gloved hands. Your eyes were glued to the smooth movement of the crows imprinted cards. They slid through the fingers of the pale black-haired smoothly like water. 

“I assume you know Ridderspel?” the gloved dealer asked as he placed four cards in front of you on the table. 

“Of course,” you said, watching Jesper intently as this one got his cards. 

Because everything in the situation was new for you, it would take you two or three rounds before you would get used to the game. All, from the cards and chairs to your opponent and the dealer, was unfamiliar to you and combining that with the pressure of supposably your life on the line only made it easier to overlook things. 

Therefore you had to pay extra attention, and mostly to Jesper. His easygoing attitude and big smile were dangerous tricks that could throw you off without any difficulty but you wouldn’t fall for them. You were looking for little things that would give him away, like the slightest falter of his smile, a tiny frown or nervous twitch. 

Jesper picked up his cards and you watched him from the corner of your eyes as you pretended to look at your own cards. For this round however those wouldn’t really matter. First you had to find Jesper’s tell. That you might lose and give him confidence was only an additional benefit; people made more mistakes when they’re blinded by the price. 

At first nothing seemed to happen. Jesper kept the same smirk on his face and played the round with nonchalance, taking all but one pair in the game. Triumphantly he leaned his chair back on two chair legs and stacked his chips in front of him. 

“Don’t worry love, you’ll get it later,” he said, giving you a wink.

You shot him a sweet smile back and took the new cards off the table. After one look you had them memorised and you looked at Jesper. He was looking at his cards with sparkles in his eyes, but yet again it was no different than before. 

Silently you cursed yourself. Last night he had seemed so open and easy to read, but you realised now that there were many more layers to the guy with the pearl-handled revolvers. 

Again you lost the game, now with all your cards being lost to Jesper. His pile of red chips was building and yours was only getting lower. You looked at your chips. If you didn’t win soon the game would be over and you’d lose, and you didn’t want to think what consequences that had. 

The third game were the last cards of the deck before it was shuffled again. Your hand was to your benefit with no card lower than six. You knew there weren’t many high cards, if any at all, left in the game since Jesper had beaten you with high numbers every time. That meant that he would have low cards and now was the perfect time to watch his reaction. 

You took a new approach to finding his tell. Instead of focusing on his facial expressions, that he proved to have under control, you now concentrated on his body language. His shoulders hung relaxed and his arms were resting on the edge of the table. Though you couldn’t see his legs under the table, you knew they weren’t standing neatly on the ground but were instead crossed or at least moving. Nothing in his posture gave him away. 

Until it did. It was a flash of a second, if you’d blinked you wouldn't have seen it. For a fraction of time Jesper’s shoulders fell and his arms stiffened. No one else in the room noticed it, but your senses became hypersensitive. 

Then, when you looked at his face, you saw more. His smirk wasn’t genuine anymore and the sparkles in his eyes weren’t as bright as before. It were minuscule changes, but big messages to you. 

“I raise,” you spoke calmly and you pushed forward the last of your chips. It was all or nothing. 

You saw Brekker raising his eyebrow in the corner of your eye, but you were focused on Jesper. His brows furrowed a little and he pushed forward the same amount. Though he had chips left, if you won this round you would have much more than he, meaning you won this game. 

“Let’s play,” you grinned and opened with your six, your lowest card, but still a rather high card. 

Jesper’s card would be crucial. If he had higher than a six, he would play that and you wouldn’t win the game. If he had a six, he would play that one  and the cards would be evened out, but you would know that the six was his highest card. If he played anything lower than a six it would mean that you had won the game, for no one would lose a round on purpose and play a lower card when they had a higher one. 

Expectantly you looked at Jesper. His smirk had gone and made place for a frown as he looked at the card on the table. His joyful bluffing face was nowhere to be seen and a sigh fell from his lips when he realised his defeat. He threw a five on the table and sunk back in his chair. 

With a grin on your face you played the rest of the round and won all Jesper’s cards. At the end of the game, you rested your chin on your folded hands and smiled at Jesper. “You know what?” you started and Jesper looked up at you. “I think I got it.”

-=-=-

Kaz and Jesper had left the room after the game and Pim was standing on the outside of the door, making sure no one would get in. They had not said a word to you when they left and now you were alone in the silent gambling parlor. At least, that’s what they wanted you to believe. 

“Inej,” you said. “Come out please.” 

No matter how focused you had been on the game, you hadn’t missed the little shadow sneaking inside near the end. And you hadn’t missed how Brekker’s eyes had shifted to one particular corner while he was watching your game with Jesper. 

The girl appeared from the shadow and silently walked over to you, giving you a small smile. “How did you know I was here?” 

“Because you wanted to be seen,” you simply said and by the way her eyes widened you knew you were right. “I don’t really know you, but I have the feeling you can be really invisible if you want. Me seeing you is not a coincidence or special talent of mine. You wanted me to see you.” 

Inej chuckled softly and shook her head. “How do you do that? Knowing what I feel by just looking at me?” 

You smiled and shrugged. “I had a tutor,” you said. “Mayranoush was her name. She taught me how to know people before they even see you.”

The memory of The Teufel’s quartermaster hurt. The weird situation you were in had taken your mind off the loss for a moment, but now there was nothing to distract you the pain came double as hard. 

You thought of your crew and how much you already missed them. Captain Nerseh and his brusque manners but warm heart; Marina and her cheerfulness; Vinay, who was the only one who still had wanted to play games with you. You missed them all so much and you couldn’t believe that they weren’t there anymore. 

But the one you missed the most was Stefan. He had been your best friend for the past two years, you had spent every day together and never had you thought you’d have to say goodbye. You thought of his last words to you. Back then you hadn’t known what to say, but now as you were sitting there without him you knew that you loved him too. But it was too late. 

“Jer elsker pe,” you whispered to yourself. 

“What?” Inej asked and you looked up. You had forgotten she was sitting next to you, so silent she was. 

“Nothing,” you mumbled and then turned to her. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Inej answered and she smiled at you. 

“Have you ever loved someone?” 

Inej’s eyes flickered to the door Kaz had just left through and then she looked at you in silence for a minute. “No,” she said finally. “Never loved like that. Why?” 

You stared at the upholstered table in front of you and swallowed away the pain in your throat. “I just… It hurts so much. Everyone always says that love is the most beautiful thing in the world, but no one ever mentions the pain…” 

“Maybe the pain makes you appreciate it more,” Inej said. “Often we don’t see what we have until it’s gone.” 

A tear rolled down your cheek and you shook your head. Inej was right; you hadn’t known you loved Stefan until he was gone. But that didn’t matter anymore. There was no way you could get the Fjerdan back and you wouldn’t turn into a mess trying to find one. You would keep your love for him deep in your heart until it was nothing more than a memory. 

“Life’s not fair,” you said and you wiped the tears from your face. “But I’ll get my even.” 

“How?” Inej asked and you turned to her. 

“I will find who burned down my home and I will destroy them to the ground they’re standing on.” 

“I suggest you find help for that,” the cold voice of Kaz Brekker said. 

You looked to your side to meet Kaz and Jesper. Pim was standing inside of the room again, still avoiding your eyes when you looked at him. Jesper was watching you with a smirk and he winked at you when he caught your eyes. 

Finally you turned to Brekker, who was looking at you with a peculiar expression. There was something playing around his lips that you would almost call a smile and his eyes had lost the ice cold gaze. 

“Who do you suggest?” you asked, looking up at Kaz. 

He shrugged half and said, before he walked away: “I have some connections.” 

Pim and he disappeared behind the door and you were left dumbfounded with Inej and Jesper. The latter placed his hand on your shoulder and chuckled. You looked between him and Inej and raised an eyebrow. “What just happened?” 

“I think you just became a member of the Dregs.” 

- - - - - 

special thanks to @awritingtree​ for the support and encouragement <3

there’s no taglist yet, but let me know if youw ant to be added to the SoC-taglist!

MASTERLIST

[celepeace]

A monster-taming game recommendation list for fans of Pokemon

Whether you're a pokemon fanatic obsessed with all things pokemon past and present, or a veteran fan disillusioned with GameFreak's recent adoption of monetary philosophies and strategies reminiscent of other major game publishers, or looking for a monster-taming fix as you await new Pokemon content...

I'm compiling here a post of little-known games in the genre that Pokemon fans are likely to enjoy!

Under readmore cause long, but some of these games really don’t get the attention they deserve, so if you have the time, please read!

(I am also likely to keep updating and editing this post)

First up is Temtem!

Temtem is a game made by and for Pokemon fans, from the spanish indie developer Crema. Temtem is currently in early access on Steam and PS5, and is likely to remain in early access until sometime late next year. Full launch will include a Nintendo Switch release, too. Despite this, it has plenty of content to explore before full release. The developers are active, release new content on a semi-regular basis, and are responsive to the community as a whole and individuals if you happen to come across a bug you want to report.

Temtem boasts a wide variety of monsters to collect and train. It takes place in the Airborne Archipelago, a system of floating islands that orbit their star, the Pansun. The monsters inhabiting the archipelago are called Temtem, or tem(s), for short.

As far as game mechanics go, it has many similarities to Pokemon, but also many important distinctions. The biggest one, in my opinion, is that the element of chance has been removed from battle entirely. Moves cannot miss, have the same power constantly, and status afflictions have an obviously displayed countdown to when they will wear off (for instance, sleep lasts as long as it says it will last. Not 2-4 turns). PP does not exist, either. Your tems can battle for as long as their HP holds out. In place of PP, a new system called Stamina exists. Stamina is an individual stat, like HP and Attack. Each move costs a certain amount of stamina. If you go over the amount of stamina your tem has, the deficit is detracted from your health instead, and that tem cannot move next turn. Stamina passively regenerates a certain amount each turn, and items and moves exist that can heal stamina. All battles are also double-battles, you and your opponent will typically have two tems on the field at a time. This is just a few of the differences Temtem has from Pokemon, but they're some of the biggest ones.

Temtem is also a massively multiplayer game. You complete the storyline independently (or with a friend through co-op!), but in the overworld you can see other, real players moving around and interacting with the world. There is also public and area-specific chat you can talk to other players through. Despite this, all multiplayer functions are (currently) completely optional. You do not need to interact with others to complete the game.

Overall, Temtem is suitable for the Pokemon fan who is looking for a more challenging experience. Temtem is not a walk in the park you can blaze through with a single super-strong monster. For one, individual tem strength is more well-balanced than it is in Pokemon. There are very few (if any!) completely useless tems. Even some unevolved tems have their niche in the competitive scene! Aside from that, enemy tamers are scaled quite high, and you typically cannot beat them just from the exp you get from other enemy tamers. You have to do some wild-encounter grinding if you want to progress.

Temtem is a very fun game and I've already gotten over 100 hours out of it, despite only 3/5-ish of the planned content being released!

However, I do feel obligated to warn any prospective players of one thing: the current endgame is quite inaccessible. After you complete what is currently implemented of the main storyline, there is still quite a lot left to explore and do, but much of it is locked behind putting a lot of hours into the game. You kind of have to get perfect temtem to do the current PVE (and this is also somewhat true for the PVP too). By perfect I mean you have to breed a good tem and then train it to get the preferable EVs (called TVs in temtem). This takes... well, for a whole team... tens of hours. Of boring grinding. Some people enjoy it! But I don't. Regardless, the game was still worth buying because the non-endgame content is expansive and fun.

So overall, pros & cons:

Pros

Battle system is more friendly towards a competitive scene

Cute monsters

Lots of gay characters, also you can choose pronouns (including they/them) independently from body type and voice

Less difference between the objectively bad tems and good tems than there is in Pokemon

Lots of stuff to do even in early access

Most conversations with dialog choices have the option to be a complete ass for no reason other than it’s fun

Having less type variety in your team is less punishing than in Pokemon due to the synergy system and types overall having less weaknesses and resistances

At least one major character is nonbinary

Cons

Falls prey to the issue of MMOs having in-game economies that are only accessible to diehard no-life players

Related to the above point, cosmetics are prohibitively expensive

Endgame CURRENTLY is inaccessible to most players unless you buy good monsters from other players or spend tens of hours making your own. However I must add that the grind is great if you like that kind of thing and is quite easy and painless to do while watching a show or something.

Here is their Steam page and here is their official website.

Next is Monster Hunter: Stories!

This is a spinoff game of the Monster Hunter franchise released for the 3DS in 2018. If you're anything like me, and you've played the core Monster Hunter games, you've often thought "Man, I wish I could befriend and ride these cool dragon creatures instead of killing or maiming them!"

Well now you can! In Stories, as I will be calling it, you play as a rider rather than a hunter. Riders steal monster eggs from wild nests to raise them among humans as companions and guardians. And yes, egg stealing is a whole mechanic in of itself in this game.

This game works pretty differently from most monster-collecting games. You do battle (usually) against one or two wild monsters using your own, except you fight alongside your monsters too. With swords and stuff. There's armor and weapons you can smelt to make yourself stronger. Type match-ups also kind of don't exist in this game? Except they do? But not in a way you'd expect?

The vast majority of attacking moves you and your monster use fall into categories reminiscent of rock-paper-scissors. Moves can be categorized as power, speed, or technical. Speed beats power, technical beats speed, and power beats technical. The matchup of your move vs your opponent's determines how a turn will go down. If one move beats the other in matchup, then the winner's move will get to go and the loser doesn't get to do anything. If you tie, you both get hit, but for reduced damage. There's also abilities and basic attacks, with abilities basically being the same as pokemon moves, and basic attacks just being "I hit you for normal damage within this category". Also, you don't control what your monster does all the time in battle. You can tell it to use abilities, but what kind basic attacks it carries out is determined by its species' preference. Velicidrome, for instance, prefers speed attacks, but Yian Garuga prefers technical. Stamina also exists in this game in a very similar manner to Temtem.

Overall this game carries over a lot of mechanics Monster Hunter fans will find familiar (how items and statuses work for instance). You don't have to have played a core Monster Hunter game to enjoy Stories though! It's fine and is easy to understand as a stand-alone.

The story has some likable characters and is rather long (it was actually adapted into an anime!), for those of you who enjoy a good story.

I'd really recommend this one especially. If it sounds fun to you and you can drop $30, just do it. I bought it on a whim and I got a few weeks' worth of playing almost nonstop out of it, and I didn't even get to do everything! (I got distracted by Hades, oops)

Stories is also getting a sequel later next year on the nintendo switch! How exciting!

And yes, you do ride the monsters.

Pros & cons:

Pros

Large variety of cool monsters to befriend and raise

Pretty lengthy story

Every tamable monster is also rideable

Deceptively simple combat mechanics, easy to be okay at, hard to master

Incorporates some mechanics from early turn-based party rpgs like Final Fantasy for a nice twist on the monster collecting genre

Cons

Many monsters are objectively outclassed by other ones, making what can be in an actually good team more limited than you’d expect

3DS graphics inherently means the game looks like it was made 7 years before its time

Here is the Monster Hunter Stories official 3DS product page.

And here is Monster Sanctuary!

Monster sanctuary is a game that just had its 1.0 launch- meaning it was in early access and no longer is! Although the devs say they still plan to implement a few more things into the game in future updates. It is available on Steam, Nintendo Switch, Xbox One, and PS4.

Monster sanctuary is a metroidvania twist on the typical monster collecting game, meaning it is also a sidescrolling platformer in which you use abilities you gain throughout the game to explore the world around you. The abilities in this case are the monsters you get! Every monster has an ability that helps you traverse the sanctuary.

Speaking of the sanctuary, the game is set in one. The monster sanctuary is a magically shielded area, cut off from the rest of the world, created by an order of monster keepers, people who befriend and protect the mystical monsters inhabiting the world. Humankind encroached too far on the natural habitat of monsters and were hostile to the native wildlife, so the keepers created an area of varied environments to safely protect and preserve the remaining monsters of the world.

Unlike many other monster collecting games, this game only has 5 types: fire, water, earth, air, and neutral. However, the types themselves do not possess resistances and weaknesses. Instead, each monster has its own assigned weaknesses and resistances. And yes, this can include things like debuffs, physical vs special attacks, and the typical elemental types.

All battles are also 3 vs 3! And unlike in pokemon, where you can only hit the enemies nearest, all monsters have the ability to hit any opponent they want. Turns also work a little differently in that speed doesn't exist, you just use 1 move per monster in your turn and then it goes to your opponent's turn. Your monsters hit in whatever order you want them to.

There is also a quite important combo system in this game, where every hit builds a damage multiplier for the next. Moves often hit multiple times per turn. Healing and buffing actions also build this combo counter. So what monsters you have move in what order really counts!

But the main mechanical difference between this and other games in the genre is how it handles levels and skills. Instead of learning a set move at a certain level, this game incorporates a skill tree, and you get to allocate points into different skills as you grow stronger. And jeez, these skill trees are really extensive. Monster sanctuary is a theorycrafter's dream. Each monster has a unique, specially tailored skill tree, making every monster truly able to have its own niche. You can make use of whatever monster you want if you just put thought into it!

And like Temtem, this game is not made to be beatable by children. I'm sure a child could beat it, but it's not made to be inherently child-friendly like pokemon. It's honestly quite difficult.

On top of that, you are actively encouraged to not just be scraping by each battle. Your performance in battle is rated by an automated system that scores your usage of various mechanics like buffs and debuffs applied, type matchups, and effective usage of combos. The rating system directly influences the rewards you get from each battle, including your likelihood of obtaining an egg from one of the wild monsters you battled (no, you don't catch wild monsters in this game, you get eggs and hatch them). If you're not paying attention to how the game works and making good, effective use of your monsters, you'll have a hard time expanding your team!

The music is also really good, it's made by nature to be able to play over and over and not get old as you explore each area, and the composer(s) really did a good job with this. Some area songs, namely the beach one, I especially enjoy, so much so I've actually played it in the background while I do work.

This is a game I would really recommend. If I made it sound intimidating, it is by no means unbeatable, you're just gonna have to put some thought into how you play. At no point did I actually feel frustrated or like something was impossible. When I hit a wall, I was able to recognize what I did wrong and how I could improve, or I could at least realize something wasn't working and experiment until I found a solution. It's challenging in a genuinely fun, rewarding way.

Pros & cons:

Pros

Extremely in-depth combat system

I genuinely don’t know if there’s an objectively bad monster in this game

Evolution exists but is completely optional, as even un-evolved monsters can be great

Entire soundtrack is full of bangers

Large and diverse variety of monsters to tame

Cons

Story is a little lackluster, but passable

That’s the only con I can think of

Here’s a link to their Steam page and the game’s website.

A kind of unorthodox recommendation is the Pokemon Mystery Dungeon series!

Likelihood is that everyone reading this has heard of this series already, but just in case anyone hasn't, I thought I'd include it! I would categorize this as a hybrid between the mystery dungeon genre and the monster collecting genre, because you recruit pokemon as you play and can use those pokemon on your team!

If you're unaware, the mystery dungeon genre is a small subset of dungeon crawler games where you progress through randomly generated levels called mystery dungeons. Throughout the dungeons, there will be enemies to fight and items to collect. The challenge of these games is mostly due to the stamina aspect of them, in that you have to manage your resources as you progress through the level. If you go all out in each fight, you will inevitably lose quite quickly. You have to learn to win against enemies while balancing your use of items and PP, so you have enough for the next fight, and the fight after that.

Pokemon mystery dungeon in particular is famous for its stories, the likes of which isn't seen often in Pokemon games. They are hugely story-driven games and are notable for the emotional depth they possess. It's pretty normal for the average player to cry at least once in the span of the game. There's lots of memes about that specifically.

This entry in my list is also unique for being a series. So, which one should you play first? It actually doesn't matter! Each storyline is entirely self-contained and requires no knowledge of prior entries. The quality of each entry varies and is a point of contention among fans. I say you should play all of them, because they all have their merits (though some more than others.... coughgatestoinfinitycough). They're mostly distinct for the generation of Pokemon they take place in. Rescue team is gen 3, Explorers is gen 4, Gates to Infinity is gen 5, Super Mystery Dungeon is gen 6, and Rescue Team DX is a remake of a gen 3 game but has the mechanics and moves of a gen 8 game.

My only real caution is that you play Explorers of Sky, not Darkness or Time. Sky is basically a combination of the two games with added items and content. It's an objective upgrade over its predecessors, and I honestly wouldn't waste money on the other two. 

I’m not going to include a pros and cons list for the PMD series because I’m incredibly biased and it wouldn’t be an honest review.

Next is Monster Crown!

Monster Crown is a monster collecting game that seems to take heavy inspiration from early-gen Pokemon games in particular. It is currently in early access on Steam and is not expensive. I learned about it through the developers of Monster Sanctuary, when they recommended it on their official Discord.

The game has lots of charm and interesting creature designs, and an entirely new take on monster typings as well. Instead of monster types being based off of natural elements like fire, water, electricity, etc. Monster Crown uses typings that seem to be influenced by the personalities of the monsters. For instance, Brutal, Relentless, and Will are all monster types!

It also captures a lot of the charm many of us look fondly upon in early GameBoy-era games. The music is mostly chiptune, with some more modern backing instruments at times, and the visuals are very reminiscent of games like Pokemon Crystal in particular. Monster Crown is definitely the monster collecting game for fans of the 8-bit era!

The thing that stands out the most to me about this game is the breeding system. Instead of one parent monster passing down its species to its offspring, you can create true hybrids in this game.

However, it is very early access. I would consider the current build as an alpha, not even a beta yet! So temper your expectations here. I have not encountered any major bugs, but visual glitches here and there are quite common. The game also could definitely use some polish and streamlining, and is quite limited in content currently. But the dev(s) seem quite active, so I fully expect these kinks to be worked out in time!

The reviews are rather positive, especially for being in early access. I'm all for expanding the monster collecting genre, so if you're looking to expand your horizons in that sense, I would recommend you at least give this one a look! I personally had quite a bit of fun playing Monster Crown and am going to keep an eye out for updates.

Pros & cons:

Pros

Charming artstyle, appealing monster designs

Faithful callback to a bygone era of gaming

Controls are fairly simple and easy to get the hang of (and are completely customizable!)

Cool breeding and hybridization mechanics

There's a starter for each monster type!

You can choose your pronouns, including they/them!

Cons

Inherent nature of being very early access means can be clunky and unpolished at times

Also not much content as of right now, see above

User interface could use some redesign in places

Here’s their Steam page and the official website!

Here’s an oldie but a goodie, Azure Dreams!

This is one I actually haven’t played, mostly because it’s really old and therefore only practically accessible if you play it on an emulator, unless you're one of those old game collectors. Azure Dreams was developed by Konami and released for the PS1 in 1997. My impression of it was that it either didn’t sell well or only took off in Japan, because it’s actually really hard to find any comprehensive information about it on the internet.

Azure Dreams is a monster collecting - dating sim hybrid. You can build relationships with various characters and can pursue some of them romantically, although that isn’t the main draw of the game. There is also a stripped-down version that exists for the GameBoy Color, which forgoes the dating portion of the game entirely.

Azure Dreams is kind of like a mystery dungeon game in that you progress through a randomly generated, ever-changing tower using the help of the familiars you have accrued throughout your adventure. Similarly to Monster Hunter: Stories, you yourself also take part in the fighting alongside your monsters. Each time you enter the tower, your character’s level is lowered to 1, but your familiars keep their experience. Thus, progression is made through strengthening your monsters. To obtain monsters, you collect their eggs, just like in Monster Sanctuary (which, turns out, was at least partially inspired by this game!)

Due to this game being very old and on the PS1, the visuals leave a lot to be desired... but if you can get past that, Azure Dreams has lots of replayability and customization to how you play the game. To this day, it appears it has a somewhat active speedrunning community!

If you don’t mind the effort of using an emulator, and like old games, Azure Dreams just might be that timesink you were looking for in quarantine.

Honorable mentions:

Pokemon Insurgence (or any Pokemon fangame/ROMhack, really!) is a Pokemon fangame that introduces Delta Pokemon, which are really cool type-swapped versions of existing Pokemon. It’s sufficiently challenging and has a lot of variety in what you can catch in the wild, so you can pretty much add whatever you want to your team! The story is quite good, and the main campaign is multiple times longer than a typical Pokemon game’s campaign. Download it here!

ARK: Survival Evolved is NOT a monster collecting game BUT you do get to tame and fight alongside a lot of really cool extinct species, including but not limited to the dinosaurs we all know and love. This game is genuinely fun as hell, especially with friends, but I must warn you: never play on official servers. I highly recommend singleplayer, playing on a casual private server, or making your own server. Here’s the Steam page.

[nessinborderland]

Ronin (浪人)

Pairing: Samurai!Last Boss x Kunoichi!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: You finally meet again after a decade apart. Takatora is set on never being apart from you again. Ever.

Warnings: mentions of prostitution, sex (but nothing too explicit), 16th century Japan, forbidden love, mentions of underaged intimacy between consenting teenagers

Notes: @adarlingmess​ asked: I'm gonna feed your Takatora Samurai AU with this request: Samurai!Last Boss having an affair with the ninja his clan hired, Kunoichi!Reader 👀 KCJDKXJX YOUR BRAIN SO SEXY 🤩 I love this idea so much, fuck yeah. Tysm for feeding my obsessions 🥺 Again, this turned into a one-shot lol. Hope you enjoy! (And please don’t be shy, lemme know your opinions on this 👀)

Takatora waited.

The cheap brothel he was in was a small two-story building, a bar on the ground floor with a few rooms above. It served low-quality sake and the floor was mostly dirt and hay, but it was clean and he knew people there minded their business.

He made sure to pay the old lady behind the counter enough money for that.

The establishment was full at that hour of the night, with customers drinking and flirting with the women that walked around in skimpy clothing. The prostitutes smiled and laughed, searching for a man to spend an hour or two, and hopefully make some money out of it.

They knew not to approach him.

"You're looking awfully lonely."

At least some did.

He glanced at whoever spoke to him, ready to send them away, when his eyes locked on your face. He was unable to do anything but stare, mouth agape as he took in your features. You looked different, you sounded different; but it was you, without a doubt.

"Y/N–"

"I'm assuming you got my note?" you asked, eyes nervously glancing around you. He did the same, quickly assuring himself that no one was paying attention to any of you. He nodded and retrieved a small piece of paper where you had scribbled a code.

"You remembered..." he said. After so many years, he would never believe you to still know the code that you had invented as love-struck teenagers.

"Of course I do," the smile you send him took his breath away. Your hand raised to lay on top of his, still holding the cup of sake, sending an electric-like sensation throughout his body. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears as you pressed yourself against his side, mouth so close to his own that he felt himself get hot all over, "I've missed you, Tora."

Your kiss was exactly like he remembered; soft, warm and passionate. It set his body on fire, a burn that grew into a desire so big he could barely control himself from taking you right there on the counter.

You broke the kiss before he could pull you into his lap, pressing your cheek on his as you took deep breaths.

"We shouldn't do this here," you whispered in his ear, "If Lord Takeda finds out–"

"He won't, I made sure of that."

It only took a look between you for him to stand up and take you upstairs. You walked through the narrow hallway, him pulling you by the hand as you hurried to a room at the end. Moaning and giggling could be heard on either side of the hallway, shadows visible through the paper-thin sliding doors.

You were kissing the moment you sled the door of your room shut. You undressed each other’s kimonos like ravaging animals, hungry for each other's touch, each other's body, each other's kiss. It had been so long.

Your body felt and looked different after all those years. You were a grown woman now, body full of curves and skin still soft but tarnished with scars that weren't there before.

You were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on.

"I missed you so much..." he whispered against your lips, gently laying you on top of the simple futon that was the only barrier between your body and the tatami-mat floor.

You moaned, gripping his long hair as his hands started touching all over your body, big palms kneading your breasts as his tongue tasted the saltiness of your skin. He got drunk on your words of praise and lust, wanting this moment to last forever.

It wasn't long before you felt him against your core, hard and leaking as he positioned himself in-between your legs. He shoved himself inside you at the same time he groaned into your mouth, swallowing your moans as he filled you to the brim.

Being inside you again felt like a dream, warm and wet cunt gripping his length like you wanted to keep him inside you forever. He took deep breaths as he slowly started to move, afraid he was going to finish before he had barely begun.

"Please move...Tora, please," your words made it impossible for him to control himself for much longer, lost in your body and all the pent-up desire. So he did what you told him to do, more than happy to obey.

That's what he did best, after all.

But not always.

"What do you think Lord Takeda will do if he finds out?" you asked after you were both satiated and spent, lying in each other's arms as you regained your breath. He took his time answering, not wanting to think about it. Even the possibility of it made his stomach turn.

"He will have me killed for laying with his favorite kunoichi," he said, arm tightening around your shoulders in an unconscious gesture, "But I like to think that he will have mercy on you."

"You know that I tried to come back to you..." you whispered after some time of nothing but complete silence. He hummed in acknowledgment, and you continued, "But I had missions to complete every time I tried to come back, and in the rare times I was here you weren't, and–"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," he interrupted, "I know Lord Takeda went to great measures to stop us from seeing each other..." it hurt Takatora to think about it like that, but it was the truth. When they grew up, his childhood friend – Takeda Katsuyori – became the daimyo of the clan while he – Samura Takatora – became his samurai. The fact that they both loved the same girl only strained their relationship further, "He loves you, you know?"

"But I chose you ten years ago," you said with a kiss to his chest, right on his tiger tattoo, "I chose you tonight," a kiss to his neck, "And I will choose you ten years from now."

He hungrily kissed you back when you reached his lips, already burning in desire for you. You made love again, so desperate and passionate like only two forbidden lovers could be.

"Run away with me," he blurted out hours later when you were both on the verge of falling asleep. But he couldn't. He couldn't rest knowing that there was the possibility that he would lose you again.

He meant what he said. He would rather become a ronin and be with you, than continuing to live without you by his side. You stared at him with wide eyes, and he waited, hopeful and terrified of your answer.

Then you nodded and smiled, a beautiful grin that made him sure that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who dared to stop you.

Anyone.

You parted ways before the sun was up, with a kiss and the promise to meet again that night when the moon was at its highest.

He spent his day thinking of you, anxiously waiting for the time where he could inconspicuously flee the castle. When that time arrived, he grabbed the few belongings he had and his treasured daisho set, stole a horse, and went to the agreed place.

Takatora waited. But you never showed up.

So he drew his katana and did what he had to do and. 

A Ronin had no masters, after all.

Kunoichi: female ninja

Daimyo: Japanese feudal lords

Daisho swords: set of long and short swords, worn by Samurai warriors. The long sword is called Katana and the short one is called Wakizashi.

Ronin: a samurai without a lord or master

[anthemxix]

So... how far did Cia go exactly? I haven’t played hw but I’ve read several fics, and she’s always very... extreme.

hi anon! thank you for your ask!

by “extreme,” i’m thinking you mean stories where she’s a psycho who tortures link or forces unwanted sexual advances on him. which makes for fantastic angst! but that characterization of cia has never felt quite authentic to me.

in the game, she has a roomful of his portraits, like a shrine. that’s extreme. she technically starts a war because of him, which is very extreme, but i don’t think that’s about lusting after him, as people often joke. she says some off-putting stuff, and you could infer that she behaves in an inappropriately “seductive” way, but. she doesn’t really. do anything, like fics might imply. she’s creepy and lewd. i’m sure she makes him uncomfortable as hell. but as for what she does, the extremeness in fics is mostly fan extrapolation.

that’s my short answer! but i kinda got carried away while responding to this, and. um. wrote a lengthy character analysis of cia? XD i thought about not including it, but i spent so much time thinking about/writing this that i’ll go ahead and share.

in my opinion, hw does not present a clear picture of cia, and it skews fan interpretation of her.

(putting this under a cut because it got long 😅)

the story the game gives at the start is straightforward. there's a "guardian of time" (whatever that means) who watches over everything but never interferes. she admires the purity of the hero's spirit. she comes to love the heroes, then to want them. she's lonely. she doesn't want to just watch anymore. she wants to experience love.

gradually her desires become something darker. she doesn't only want the companionship, she wants to possess.

ganon sees this darkness in her heart and causes a split. the darkness separates from her, becomes its own person (a la dark link). the "good" part is lana, the "bad" part is cia.

for ganon, this is all part of a larger plan. in hw, his spirit is divided into four fragments that have been sealed away in different eras. he manipulates cia and gets her to open time gates so he can gather all the fragments together. a key fact: one of the fragments has been sealed away by the master sword, so ganon needs a hero to draw the sword.

cia willingly allows herself to be ganon's pawn because in so doing, in starting a war to force the hero to emerge, she thinks she'll get what she wants. throughout the story, she gives more and more of herself to ganon, fracturing her own spirit further and further, because she is so desperate to claim the hero for herself, to own him. lana repeatedly warns her to stop before she does irreparable damage to herself, but she doesn't listen, and ultimately she...well, dies, i guess. fades from existence. (that's how the original hw ending goes. they added stuff on later that changed this.)

ok, so. we have some interesting stuff going on here. arguably, cia is a tragic figure. a victim even. her underlying motivation is loneliness. viewing it through this lens, the story becomes an exploration of what isolation does to a person. how desperate it can make us. how we become willing to sacrifice anything for love--and i mean "love" broadly, not in a romantic sense. how it makes us vulnerable to manipulation and abuse.

let's also not forget the whole reason she focuses on the hero's spirit to begin with. after witnessing all the atrocities of history, she admires the purity and goodness and self-sacrifice of the hero. it has nothing to do with link being attractive. in her temple (the temple of souls), she has statues of different heroes from different eras, including wolf link and oot/mm link. she is certainly not lusting after an animal or a child, i assure you.

so why does she have frickin portraits of hw link, specifically, (not any other hero's spirit incarnations) plastered all over her walls, if not for lusty purposes? why does she dress so damn seductively? i'm not claiming lust isn't part of it, but i think there's more. she wants to feel surrounded by him, you know? she wants to feel like he's looking at her the same way that she looks at him--with desire. it's delusion.

and holy hell, she's nothing if not deluded. some examples of her actual in-game dialogue: "no matter what betrayals I may suffer, at least I know the hero will always love and protect me." and [to herself, as she's losing a fight] "the hero is still by my side... the hero is still by my side..."

and it's sad. she pretends that he loves her, that he will protect her, because she doesn't have any real love in her life. she doesn't have anyone.

and what's even sadder is that she's condemned to all these feelings and delusions because that's who she is. she is corruption and darkness personified! she's doomed to this lonely hell, to being ganon's servant, to self-destruction.

that's how tragedy, and tragic figures, are defined: hubris. characters that have an innate flaw that inevitably leads to their downfall. that's what a traditional tragedy is.

don't get me wrong here. i'm not saying she had no choice, or that she had to start a war. she can be tragic and we can sympathize with her while also accepting the fact that she's corrupted beyond redemption. morality isn't black-and-white. our understanding of characters, or of real people, isn't black-and-white.

...but. BUT. there is a major "but" here. the game sabotages its own character and its own story. the game opts for the path of least resistance. screw grey areas of morality, screw the tragedy of loneliness, screw exploring vulnerability and abuse and hubris... they sensationalize. cia is a joke.

have you seen her frickin outfit? her character design? she's an uber-sexualized caricature. all those portraits of link in her temple can easily be viewed as a joke, too. "lol, look at this crazy, horny bitch." hell, they even have her say innuendos about the master sword, like, “come show me what your sword can do” or something to that effect. 🙄

it's all very surface level. they don't go deep at all with cia. they give us no substance, only these little bread crumbs of information that i've laid out for you. and not only that, they set this up so that it feeds into old stereotypes. the salient details easily allow us to interpret cia, consciously or not, as an embodiment of feminine hysteria, a woman guided by irrational emotion and obsession, fixated on winning the ultimate prize of a man's love.

so koei tecmo's own confused presentation of this character muddles up fan interpretation and has us falling back on the familiar stereotypes we know and understand. that’s the basis for these depictions of cia as extreme. that’s what fans are extrapolating from when they try to imagine how she might act or what she might say. so in the end, she isn’t really depicted with accuracy. she’s like a caricature of a caricature at that point.

…or at least, that’s my opinion. 🥴

[another-tmnt-writer]

You Fell From the Sky

Leonardo x Reader

Author: Admin Mo

Prompt: okay this'll sound real dumb bUT- this universe!reader meets bayverse boys? like maybe reader wakes up in the bayverse and is very aware about the turtles? i dunno it sounds confusing but maybe it's an interesting prompt?

Note: I love this concept. I’ve dipped my toes in the water before, but this time, I’m going all the way. Also, I know you didn’t specify a turtle, but I zoned it in on Leo. I can definitely write another if y’all want more because I’m obsessed with this idea. <3

Warnings: Some language…

Word Count: 1.9k

“Okay, guys, don’t crowd her. I’m sure she’s gonna be disoriented, and-”

“Donnie, is the angel alright? It must have hurt, falling from heaven.”

“Get outta the way, Mikey. Go wash the pizza off your hands.”

“Could we give her some room, please?”

The voices echoed around in your head, which was pounding painfully. You opened your eyes and everything was blurry. You were just about positive you were hallucinating, because when your vision finally started to come into focus, you were surrounded by four very tall, very familiar mutant turtles.

“No fucking way…” you murmured, looking up at each of them. They were even more detailed and lifelike than they were in the movies. Which was to say, very lifelike.

“Not the reaction I expected, but I’ll take it.” Mikey smiled, shifting to present himself to you. “The name’s Michelangelo, but the ladies call me—”

“Mikey, yeah, I know.” You cut him off and he gaped at you, his blue eyes wide.

“Are ya psychic or something?” Raph asked. You stared at him for a long second. His muscles were impossibly large, his eyes just as green as you thought they’d be.

“N-No, not exactly. I…well, I’m pretty sure I’m from an alternate universe. Or something.” You looked at Donnie, who was furiously taking notes and way taller than you expected him to be, and then to Leo, whose arms were crossed, his clear blue eyes analyzing everything you said. “Because where I come from, you guys are fictional.”

“Woah. I did not expect that.” Mikey said, looking at Raph for some sort of reaction from his older brother. “Bro, did you—”

“Shut up for like two seconds.” Raph snapped, his attention turning to you. “Can you say that one more time?”

“You guys are fictional. When I was growing up, I watched your cartoons, collected action figures, read your comics…This is unreal.”

“Comic books?” Donnie inquired.

“Cartoons?!” Mikey’s eyes widened.

You nodded.

“So…you know everything about us?” Leo asked, a twinkle of amusement working its way into his icy gaze. He wasn’t quite convinced yet, but he had to admit you were convincing at the very least.

“I mean, not really. Kind of. Maybe?” You shrugged. “I know you have a bonsai in your room.”

You didn’t think it was possible for them to blush, but after that comment, Leo proved you wrong, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Just about everything then, yeah.”

“So what happened, Donnie? Why am I here?”

Donnie straightened up when you addressed him by name. “Uh, well, I was trying to figure that out, actually. We were out on patrol and there was a bright flash in the sky and you fell from it.”

“Leo caught you even though I called dibs.” Mikey pouted.

“You saved my life.” You gasped and looked up at Leo. “Thank you.”

“I couldn’t just let you fall, ma’am.”

“(Y/N).” You introduced. “My name is (Y/N).”

“Well, (Y/N), I hope ya like the smell of sewer.” Raph chuckled. “If not, you’ll get used to it.”

***

The turtles spent the rest of the day asking you lots of questions about your world and the representations of them that were in it. You told them that the universe they were in was closest to a series of movies by Michael Bay, which, Raph and Mikey found exciting given their love of the Transformers movies.

Leo didn’t say much, but he was always in the room, listening. When night came, Donnie was the first to leave the room, retreating to work in his lab. Then Leo went to his room to sharpen his swords and water his bonsai. Raph went to sleep next, and Mikey stayed up the latest, playing Mariokart with you until pretty close to dawn. You’d almost forgotten that the boys usually slept during the day.

When you were out alone in the living room, Leo came into the room, holding a large knitted blanket and a pillow, a tentative look on his face.

“Hey.” He approached you quietly. “I figured you’d need these. It gets kind of cold down here.”

“Thanks, Leo.” You tucked your hair behind your ear. “I really appreciate you guys letting me crash here.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least we could do.” He shook the blanket out and draped it over your legs. “If you need anything, my room is over there.” He pointed back towards where he’d come from.

“Thank you.” You smiled. “I’m sure Donnie will figure this all out soon enough and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Well, you’re welcome to stay for as long as that takes.” Leo smiled and then added, “Good night.”

“Night!”

Once he was gone, you laid down on the couch and stared up into the darkness for a little while, thinking about the events of the day. You were stranded in the Bayverse. And…well, actually, you weren’t all that upset about it.

***

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you half expected it to all have been a dream. I mean, that was the only logical explanation, right? Well, then you took a look around at your surroundings and realized that it was three in the afternoon and you were in the lair instead of your bedroom.

Once you stretched and got your bearings, you got up and walked to the kitchen, where Splinter was pouring tea from a teapot.

“And you must be the girl who fell from the sky.”

You had to stop and admire him for a second. Master Splinter, the boys’ dad, a wealth of endless support and wisdom. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t looked up to him when you were young. Hell, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t look up to him now when you needed advice.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” You were shaking. “I’m not sure if the boys told you where I’m from…”

“They have, yes.” He nodded. “Donatello told me of the alternate universe you came from.”

“You helped me through so much when I was growing up. You all did. It’s really surreal being here.”

Splinter smiled and stroked his beard, that wise twinkle in his eyes. “I’m glad you found your way to us, child. We’ll make your stay here as easy as possible.”

“Thank you.”

“(Y/N), I made eggs.” Leonardo’s voice from behind you scared the hell out of you.

You jumped and turned around, laughing as your racing heart slowed back down to normal.

“Sorry. Do you like eggs?”

“I do, yeah.” You chuckled. “Thank you, Leo.”

“Of course. They’re on the stove.”

“There’s cheese on the counter!!” Mikey added, already sitting at the table. “I saved you a chair over here, angelcakes.”

You had to admit, hearing him say that in person did make your heart flutter a little bit. You put some eggs and toast (with jam, provided by Donatello) on a plate, sprinkled some shredded cheddar on top and settled into the seat Mikey had saved, conveniently located between the youngest brother and the leader in blue.

“So every day, you guys wake up this late?” You asked, still a little bewildered that breakfast was at three in the afternoon.

“That’s just the downside of living in the shadows.” Raph shrugged. “But it ain’t so bad.”

“Right, of course. It’s just different than what I’m used to is all.”

“So what do you do, normally? Like, in your world, I mean.” Donatello asked. He didn’t have his notebook on hand, but you could tell he was taking mental notes.

“Well, I’m a student. I’m in college. I read comics and watch movies, and sometimes I write in my free time.”

“Comics about us?” Mikey raised an eyebrow, smiling knowingly.

Your cheeks burned red and you laughed. “Maaaaaaybe.”

Leo let out a little sigh and shook his head. “That’s still so weird to me.”

“Let me tell you, that’s a two way street.” You chuckled. Even thinking about it was still almost too weird to comprehend. You pulled out your phone, which still worked, fortunately, and went through your photos, scrolling all the way back to Halloween. You held it up to show them. “My roommates and I were you guys for Halloween.”

“And you were Leader Boy, huh?” Raph pointed out. “Noted.”

“I mean, yeah.” You didn’t think your face could get any more red.

“Wait, Leo’s your favorite?” Mikey pouted. “Aww…”

“I don’t think it’s fair to pick favorites. I like all of you guys for different reasons.”

“It’s alright if you admit you had a crush on Leo.” Raph whispered, cupping a hand around his mouth.

“Alright, alright, enough of that. She’s our guest. We’re not gonna grill her. She just got here.” Leo stepped in, a faint blush on his cheeks. He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t get the picture of you in a blue mask with little foam katanas out of his head.

“Right, there’s a two week minimum before we get to grill her.” Donnie added, grinning as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Aww, how considerate.” You laughed.

The rest of breakfast was pretty uneventful. You finished eating and then went out to the living room and settled onto the couch. Luckily, your backpack had made the trip over with you, so you had your laptop and some of your homework. Not that you could get online and get in touch with people from your universe, but at least you could get some writing done if you wanted to.

Leo wandered out, his muscular arms crossed over his chest, a soft look in his eyes. He hovered behind you for a few seconds before finally speaking. “Hey.”

Unaware that he had been there, you jumped. “Jesus! You guys are quiet, holy fuck.”

“Sorry about that.” He laughed, carefully sitting on the opposite end of the couch, giving you space, but still sitting close enough to make your heart flutter the teeniest bit. “And, uh, I’m sorry about them earlier. Raph specifically. I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable or—”

“No, it’s fine. Really,” you said. “But thank you for checking. I appreciate it.”

“Of course.” He was quiet for a few moments before he asked. “Do you believe in fate?”

“Until yesterday, I’m not sure I did. But there’s gotta be something like that out there for me to end up here of all places.”

“For the record, I’m glad you ended up here, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. His blue, blue eyes met yours. “Is it selfish if I say I wouldn’t mind if you stuck around for a while?”

“Is it selfish if I agree?” You replied, causing him to laugh.

“Glad we’re on the same page, then.”

“Me too.” You smiled and just spent a few long moments admiring him. The movies truly didn’t do him justice. Honestly, it was the truth: you wouldn’t mind sticking around for a while. For a long while…

Part 2

[psychopomp-namine]

I should probably revisit this topic again when I finish books 4 and 5 because an analysis would be incomplete without finishing the novel. But for now, I’ve been thinking some thoughts.

I think the play between free will, fate, karma, and luck in the novel is super interesting. Something about Xie Lian trying to find the “third path” and Shi Wudu defying fate and Hua Cheng’s uncanny power over luck... like, with all these elements, I’m sure. I’m sure if I think about it hard enough, I can understand why the motto of the book is “no paths are bound” even though time and time again the characters keep telling Xie Lian and the reader that there is suffering when you fight fate and that, conventionally, you shouldn’t meddle with fate. Xianle is proof of this.

Yet Shi Wudu was able to overcome fate (at the cost of a scholar’s misfortune and that of his family’s). And he was successful for a long time too! He would’ve gotten away with it if He Xuan wasn’t resentful enough to power his way through death and come out of it as a calamity with an obsession with revenge.

Hua Cheng was supposed to live a life of misfortune too, I believe (Star of Solitude baby). But when we meet him in the book, he’s already a wealthy and powerful ghost king with all the power of luck in his hands.

I posted this on reddit but I think (??) that’s what the problem of two cups is about?

So my reddit response went like this:

Interestingly, Xie Lian as LQQ's Guoshi gives a similar story. Two people are hungry and trying to rob each other of food. Guoshi!Xie Lian posits that to solve the problem, the third person must give food from their own purse. Similarly, his two sword attack that saved LQQ's life twice only works because the third person (Xie Lian) absorbs the attacks. We're starting to see a pattern here.

When Guoshi!Xie Lian finishes, LQQ asks what would happen if the third person didn't have enough food to provide. Xie Lian asks, "What do you think?" and LQQ answers, "Maybe he shouldn't have intercepted from the start."

Sounds familiar? The problem of the two cups foreshadows how Xie Lian handles the fall of Xianle. It's even more on the nose when you think of how Xianle's doom started because of a drought. Yong'an was thirsty, there are only limited resources, and it's not like the king didn't try to mitigate this (although imo he was still fairly incompetent as a ruler). Xie Lian's solution was to create more rain with the Rain Master's help. To "provide another cup" but that cup is not enough, may have even been too late. We all know how Book 2 ended.

Throughout the book, Xie Lian says he wants to save the common people, but he doesn't always have the power to do so. Nobody does and it's ridiculous to put that burden on just one person. That's what Xie Lian did to himself, what Xianle did to Xie Lian. He was put on a pedestal and doomed to fall because, god or not, he's only human and could not provide another cup.

There is another thing to point out, but I don't think I can speak on it until I finish the novel. Xie Lian's answer, to "give another cup," is him trying to choose the (impossible?) "third path." I've seen this mentioned in the novel several times.

When Xie Lian tries to solve all the problems of Xianle and keeps failing, Mu Qing admonishes him, "THEY REACHED THEIR BAD END, WE’LL ALREADY HAVE PERISHED! YOU DON’T HAVE A THIRD PATH AND THERE IS NO SECOND CUP OF WATER. WAKE UP, YOUR HIGHNESS! YOU’RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME.”

When He Xuan exacts his revenge plan and Shi Wudu tries to bargain, He Xuan says coldly, "Did I give you a third path?"

When White No-Face meets Xie Lian at the Kiln, he offers Xie Lian a third path (for XL to kill himself then kill White No-Face and escape the Kiln as a Supreme).

In other words, each time a "third path" is presented, the novel posits that it's an impossibility. You have to work with the choices presented to you. And any time you mess with fate (Xianle, Wuyong?, SQX, etc.) it always ends in suffering for someone. You can't please everyone.

Interestingly though, TGCF's motto is "no paths are bound." And there is one person whose fate was changed for the better: Hua Cheng. Hua Cheng was born under the Star of Solitude and is supposedly destined to live a life of misfortune. And yet now, he is the Supreme Ghost King with all the wealth and power and incredible, incredible luck. In many ways, Hua Cheng for some reason (because he was saved by Xie Lian, a “savior” to nullify the Star of Solitude’s fate?) was able to defy his predestined fate of misfortune.

And oftentimes, it's with his intervention (his luck?) that Xie Lian in the present can freely explore his third paths.

Now, I'm still procrastinating on Book 4 and 5 so I can't definitely say yet what the conclusion of the novel is yet with regards to the theme of choosing a third path. Maybe Xie Lian makes a "third path" solution work for him one day? I know some spoilers and can think of a few possible answers to this, but I can't say until I finish the novel.

But yeah, I think that despite what Guoshi probably wanted to teach us, we should still keep in mind that one of the novel's themes is, "no paths are bound" :D

So! All that said, I’ve been thinking some thoughts, as one does. I’m not sure if I’m reading too much into it, if I’m biased and reading with an agenda lol. Again, I’ll revisit this when I finish books 4 and 5.

But I’m thinking about how Hua Cheng respects Xie Lian’s decisions and is always there to unconditionally support him unless it ends in self-harm. All the times they “shared spiritual energy”

Book 3 is titled “No Paths Are Bound.” Let’s go over some events. When Xie Lian was at the lake trying to catch the fetus spirit, he had a dilemma. If he should come up for air, he would swallow the spirit, so naturally (in his eyes) he could just swallow Fangxin too. Otherwise, he’d drown. But Hua Cheng arrives and gives him another option: he could just give him air, duh!

In the Black Water arc, Hua Cheng urged Xie Lian not to meddle too much. When SQX gets kidnapped by the Reverend, they could either try to find them on their own (a futile effort) or let them be. They can’t report to the heavens because Shi Wudu was preparing for his heavenly calamity. But then, Hua Cheng shares his spiritual powers to Xie Lian that allows him to explore a third option: why not just switch places with SQX? Brilliant!

So idk how the novel will wrap up its themes, but I’m thinking that if we continue in this direction, one way we can see this end is like this. The premise is: you can’t save the world alone. Sometimes kindness and hard work alone is not enough to overcome fate, because fate intertwines people and taking something for yourself means taking something away from others. But. But. If fate intertwines people, then if those people could work together, would they be able to change their future? If luck works like karma, if it works to balance things out, then can it be shared?

I think this is how the book will end (lol if I’m wrong then welp, take this whole essay as a joke, it’s fine) because it ties very, very neatly with how Xie Lian first meets Hua Cheng at the ox cart.

On the way to Puqi village, they discover that it’s the Zhongyuan festival and they must be careful not to cross over to the ghost realm. In the forest, they meet a fork in the road that splits into two paths. Xie Lian takes out a fortune shaker and lets fortune decide their path.

“By Heaven Official’s Blessing, no paths are bound! Every road leads to heaven, may they all be walked! The first stick left, the second stick right! We’ll go the path with the best fortune!”

Naturally, his sticks always have the worst of luck. But Hua Cheng intervenes and tries his luck, and of course, his luck is always good. I’m not sure if the point of this scene is that their lucks cancel each other out, but regardless, isn’t it so lucky for them to meet in the first place? Or maybe it’s fate after all?

Either way, point is, if Xie Lian tried to save the two of them alone, fortune says they will meet a bad end. Or, well, they will go through an unlucky path. Xie Lian tries to give another cup, a third path, and like a magic 8 ball, fate says “that’s a bad idea, no”

But Hua Cheng goes, “nah, we’re in this together” and helps him out. And the thing is. I don’t think it’s even a matter of Hua Cheng overpowering Xie Lian’s fate, because time and time again all he really does is let Xie Lian decide where to go and he just follows. He doesn’t solve Xie Lian’s problems for him, but he shares the burden. And maybe. Maybe that’s the point?

If two people are thirsty and there’s only one cup of water, and the one who drinks lives and the one who doesn’t dies, as a god who would you give the cup to? Well, why not let them share the cup? If changing the fortune of one person reverses another person’s fortune, why can’t those two people work together and ping-pong those fortunes back and forth to each other and create their own future together?

There’s something to be said here about agency and whatnot but my brain is scrambled and this post is too long. But at least, I think I’ve successfully procrastinate from starting book 4 with this internet essay lol

[faean]

Prince Sidon x Male Reader (Part 1/2)

Rating: T; Mentions of Blood/Death

Word Length: 1,960 words

Title: The Prince’s Folly

             -----

          “What’s a Hylian doing in Zora’s Domain?”

          “Isn’t he the one who used to live in Hyrule Castle teaching magic?”

          “Didn’t he travel the world? Why’d he choose to stay here after the Calamity?”

          “Did you hear? King Dorephan tasked him with slaying the Lynel since it’s been resurrected. I hope he survives...”

          “The council is hoping he doesn’t make it. They’re still so angry at the Hylians and their Champion, even after Mipha’s spirit told us not to be remorseful.”

          “I can’t believe it! He actually slew the beast! The Prince even saw him deliver the finishing blow. He’s been telling everyone about it.”

          “For a Hylian, he sure ages like a Zora. It’s been over 50 years and he doesn’t look a day older. He’s even taller than the average Hylian. I wonder if it’s because of his magic.”

          “Do you think the rumors are true? They say he isn’t interested in women. There have been a few female Hylians, Gerudo, even female Zora and Gorons approach him and he’s politely declined them all.”

          “I think the rumors might be true. He acts differently when around the Prince, and the Prince has been spending more time with him, too.”

          It’s been almost 75 years, and every day still brings something new. Sometimes it’s the council coming up with some asinine task for you to complete to get you to leave the domain, even if you always complete them with little difficulty. Sometimes it’s patrolling the borders and the dam. Sometimes it’s going out for more supplies. And, after every blood moon, you leave to confront the Lynel that terrorizes the Zora atop Ploymus Mountain. After so many decades, the fights end swiftly and without incident.

          Until recently.

          The Zora Prince, Sidon, has been spending every bit of free time with you. He joins you on patrols, short trading journeys, and the tasks the council sends you on, much to their dismay. Unfortunately, their hatred against Hylians seems to overrule their worry about the sole heir of the Zora. Either they are resentful he holds no grudges against Hylians like they do, or they actually recognize your skill and don’t fear for his safety. Hopefully, it was the latter.

          You didn’t mind his company, of course. For a while, most of the Zora were wary of you, though the younger generations, including Sidon’s, were much less discriminatory and more friendly, even going so far as to argue against some of the council’s decisions. There was one thing about Sidon’s presence that bothered you, though.

          You were hopelessly in love with him, and you had the sensation that he knew, considering the rumors surrounding your interactions with female suitors. It wasn’t until your most recent excursion to slay the revived Lynel once more that everything was brought to light…

          Many decades ago, back when I first moved to the Zora’s Domain after the Calamity, King Dorephan asked me to fight a Lynel atop a nearby mountain that had been terrorizing the Zora after the power of Calamity Ganon brought it back on a Blood Moon.

          As a Hylian, the shock arrows it fired would not be immediately fatal to me, and my prowess with magic was renowned, having granted me longevity and the opportunity to teach Princess Zelda (though, her obsession with ancient Sheikah technology limited my involvement). For me, (Y/N) (L/N), the Master of Magic, it would have been easy.

          Would have been.

          During the battle, I managed to avoid every one of the beast’s attacks, and had dealt several serious blows; however, the Lynel’s natural resistance to all the elements drained me of my energy as I used stronger and more costly spells to counter it. I had received some training with spears, bows, and blades, but not enough to rival that of a savage and cunning Lynel. Near the end of the battle, a certain young Prince had become entranced and stepped out further from his hiding place where he was watching.

          The Lynel did not hesitate to take aim, and the young Prince was frozen in fear. He didn’t see what happened next, too afraid to open his eyes until he heard my voice softly comforting him.

          There was no sign of the Lynel, just a jagged pillar of earth and the spoils of the slain beast. The Prince completely forgot his fear and was gushing over me and the battle, unaware of the cost of my victory. I escorted him back, presenting the spoils to the King as proof before leaving to my own home. Once alone, I uttered a few cryptic words and my clothing turned a deep crimson red.

          Now, he joined you again, but with your knowledge and the intent to fight. You instructed him on the beast’s tactics and abilities, as well as your usual strategy. You would wait until it put away its sword and shield to charge at you, and you would proceed to meet it head on by sliding underneath it to slay it in a single blow. Expending most of your magical energy, you focused it in between your hands before expending it all in a single devastating strike, piercing through its underside and disintegrating most of its body.

          With the Prince at your side, and with his skill with a bow, he’d get the beast’s attention before you struck it from behind. A simple diversion, yet wholly effective in theory. Even if the Lynel charged him, the Prince was more than capable with a spear.

          At least, that was the idea.

          The Lynel, in its cruel intelligence, was aligned perfectly with the Prince, preventing you from delivering the final blow. It cocked its shock arrows, ignoring the Prince’s own shots. Without hesitation and further thought, you dashed in front of the of the Prince and took the hit, just like you did all those years ago.

          Sidon’s eyes went wide with fear and realization as he saw the electricity course through your body, three arrows embedded across your chest. He watched as you shakily stood and proceeded to take a deep breath, blood pouring from your wounds as you raised your hands. He shielded his eyes from the bright light that followed, and when he could finally see again, all that was left were the creature’s weapons, parts, and a sizable crater in the ground from your attack. He meant to congratulate you, but you staggered and fell before he could, staining the grass blood red.

          -----

          “You have scars on your thighs… This isn’t the first time you took a Lynel’s arrows for me, is it?”

          The Prince was sitting at the foot of the large bed you were in, having brought you back to receive medical attention. He wouldn’t meet your gaze as you sat up, wincing at the pain and holding back a string of swears. You looked over at the Prince, saddened by how hurt he looked. He always wore a smile on his face, bringing cheer to the Zora people and working to keep the peace. He was treasured among his people, and even Lurelin Village and beyond, having saved them from a massive Octorok.

          But now? He had no smile; his eyes were dull, and his shoulders slumped.

          “My Prince … do not blame yourself. I made my choice that day, just as I made my choice today. It’ll take a lot more than a few arrows to take me down, and I would gladly take another if it meant keeping you safe.”

          Sidon was silent for a few moments before he wiped the tears from his face, turning to you with a bright smile and saying, “Have I told you just how much I appreciate everything you do? Because I really do appreciate all you do!”

          Admittedly, it was a little forced, but you still thought it admirable.

          “All right, now that that’s out of the way, I need a nap. I’m exhausted, and this isn’t my bed.” You breathed out as you rolled your shoulders.

          There was a brief pause before Sidon sheepishly told you that it was actually his bed you’ve been resting in for the past few days, since the healers thought it wasn’t a good idea to carry you all the way to your house while injured.

          “Wait, if I’ve been out for several days, then where have you been sleeping?” You asked, more worried about the Prince’s sleep than your own self.

          “… I’ve been here. I couldn’t bring myself to leave your side. The healers said you might not pull through, and I prayed to Mipha’s spirit to watch over you… The King … My father says it was survivor’s guilt, but I… (Y/N) … It was much more than that…” Sidon made his way around the bed to sit beside you.

          A massive blush spread across your face with how close he was, fortunately, he was looking down at the bed and not at you, though you would rather he met your gaze.

          “(Y/N), for an awfully long time now, I have been wishing to spend every day by your side. It’s why I join you on your assignments and invite you to every event I must attend. It’s why I convinced you and my father to let me fight beside you, but…” Sidon, without realizing it, took your hand in his, holding on to it as he spoke.

          “When you protected me, I remembered … I remembered when I was young and watched your fight with the Lynel for the first time, much like my sister had with the Hylian Champion. You had protected me back then, and you hid your injuries from me and even walked me all the way back home…” You felt him squeeze your hand as he continued, and you instinctively moved closer to him, coming to lean against him.

          “In that moment of realization, I knew exactly why I wished to be with you.”

          He turned to face you, taking your other hand is his own and leaning down, his eyes closed by the time his lips connected with yours. You melted into him, happily kissing back.

          -----

          Several (more) years went by, and you could not be happier. You and Sidon were officially a couple, and although the King was hesitant about your relationship at first, he saw how much joy you brought to Sidon, and that showed in everything he did. He accepted it, much to the further dismay of the council. Also a few of the female Zora who were huge fans of the Prince, but most were simply happy that he was happy. Sort of…

          -----

          “(Y/N), my beloved! You’ve returned! How was your trip?” The Prince asked when he reunited with you, sweeping you off your feet as he enveloped you in a hug.

          “Hot. Cold. I always forget the extremes of the Gerudo Desert until I inevitably return for some supplies. I’m just glad my contact is still willing to trade on my behalf. Anyway, let me drop off some things and I’ll meet you back in your room.” You punctuated this with a quick kiss to Sidon’s hand as he let you go.

          He was more than excited that you were back, not because you’ve been gone for a couple of weeks, but because he had been planning something special to mark your next anniversary, which takes place just a few days from today. The two of you have been through a lot since you got together, you more than him with how the council acts, but it bothered him more than you, funnily enough. Especially when they tried to convince him that conceiving a future heir was more important than love and happiness.

          Which got him thinking…

          -----

          Part 2: TBD

[pl-panda]

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 11

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 11

----------

The Akuma turned toward the three superheroes and scowled. A phantom butterfly appeared over her face. 

“So you’ve come to ruin my great day!?” She screamed. Her hand turned into bubbling energy and extended unnaturally, sailing at the heroes who had to scatter to avoid it. It smashed into the wall, burning it slightly. 

“This is Vicki Vale, reporting live from Wayne Manor, where the Charity Gala was interrupted by the attack of a supervillain. We can now see not one, but three new superheroes appearing on-site to stop them. The feline theme seems to be prevalent in this group, but it is the hero in red that took charge of the situation. Aaaah!” The large other arm sailed toward the reporter and her cameraman, enveloping them and burning them. Some of the bubbly mass remained there, slowly reforming into… something. 

“This Akuma is overpowered! Shapeshifting, reach, super-healing, and minions?” Ladybug whined. 

“Focus. We need the object.” Black Cat cut her off. 

“She had nothing on her. Only the… Of course, that stupid alley-cat would do this.” She moaned. “It’s her dress. That bastard made her dress into the akumatized object.” 

“Then we cut it to pieces.” Pink Tigress scowled. Her chakram sailed through the air at the Akuma, but it was easily avoided.

“You’re all just fake…” She didn’t get to finish before the sharp projectile bounced and returned at her, smashing into her back. Black Cat and Ladybug used the distraction.

“Lucky Charm!/Cataclysm!”

The destructive energy formed in his paw just as Ladybug got a fire extinguisher.

“Won’t be needed, beloved.” Black cat spoke too soon because purple energy surrounded the Akuma and the heat became harder to withstand. The wooden planks caught on fire.

“Is it just me or is she getting hotter with time?”

“Ladybug! Don’t flirt with the villain.” Tigress snapped, but the way she was smiling told the young couple she was just joking.

“Tt. Let’s just get moving.” He scoffed. Just then, the shapeless mass that was the reporter and the cameraman finally became active. The two blobs looked exactly like they used to before, except for violet eyes. They charged forward, forcing the heroes to scatter. As soon as they crashed with the wall, it started to slowly heat until it burned too. 

Ladybug started looking around. She needed to get access to the Akuma, but when they were distracted, it created more minions that now stood between her and them. The clock pointed at almost half an hour to midnight. 

The plan formed in Ladybug’s head. 

“Cat! I need your tail. Tigress! The strength would be nice.” She ran to grab the items needed. A tail was wrapped around the fire-extinguisher and the hand of the clock was put inside the pin and tied to the sash. 

“Power Up! Strength!” Pink Tigress shone with pink light. Getting at what her daughter planned, she grabbed Black Cat who rolled in a ball. 

“Tt. For the record, I hate these types of plans.”

“Less complaining, more… Now!” Ladybug shouted suddenly before making the fire extinguisher roll like a bowling ball right under the group of minions and toward the Akuma. The heat was visibly weakening the metal around it. When it was close to the enemy, she pulled back the sash with one swift move and plucked the safety pin. Then, she quickly tossed her yo-yo.

The weapon struck the already weakened metal container and everything nearby was covered by red foam, putting away the flames and momentarily stopping the heat.

Seeing her cue, Pink Tigress tossed Black Cat through the air. The strength gave her enough power for the throw to pass over all of the minions with enough velocity that he surprised the Akuma. His open palm clashed into the orange dress of the Akuma and it crumbled to pieces. Quickly, Ladybug grabbed the now-extinguished curtain and tossed it over the victim. 

There was no catchphrase when she activated her yo-yo and captured the purple butterfly, or when she released it. 

“Miraculous Ladybug!” 

The swarm of magical bugs swept over the place, fixing the damage and returning everything to where it was supposed to be. At least most of it.

“Ladybug?” A voice came from under the curtain, which thankfully remained in place. The face that appeared from underneath was that of one Lila Rossi. “Oh no! It was… I was… Oh no!” She started crying crocodile tears. 

Ladybug was clearly unamused. Because of course, The Liar would be the first from the new batch of Akumas. Unceremoniously, she tossed her the dress and walked away. 

Outside, the press already gathered together with a group of police officers trying to stop anyone from rushing inside. 

“Miss.” A man in a brown trenchcoat and with a bushy mustache came over to the three heroes. “Commissioner Gordon, GCPD. I must ask you three to come with us.” 

“Tt. No.” Black Cat protested before either of the females with him got a chance. 

Ladybug put a hand on his shoulder and made him step back. “Commissioner, could you send a team of paramedics inside. There is a girl that is probably in shock still inside. She was a victim of possession by Akuma.” 

Gordon didn’t respond verbally but waved his hand and a man and a woman went inside the mansion. “Now, can we move somewhere more private?” 

Just then, Batman glided down from the rooftop. “Nightwing and Red Hood stopped any car movement in and out. Red Robin is already tracing the feeds. The civilians are secure. Ladybug,” He turned to the spotted heroine with no small amount of respect, “is the situation inside resolved?” 

“I purified the Akuma if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Batman? You know those three?” The police commissioner asked.

“Yes. Ladybug is a superhero from France. She received my authorization to enter Gotham in pursuit of dangerous international terrorist Adrien Agreste, the son of another terrorist, Gabriel Agreste.” Batman explained. 

“And to think I used to wear his cologne…” Gordon muttered. “I would really appreciate the heads-up though.”

“We would definitely send such if we had time.” 

“We were in Tibet when the Akuma Alert came.” Black Cat lied swiftly. 

“Um… I’ve never been a master of geography but…”

“Magic. We use magic, Mr. Gordon.” Pink Tigress decided to take charge of the conversation with her assassin attitude in full force. From Bruce’s tales, James Gordon was a good man but sometimes too cynical. “The terrorist we chase also uses magic. We’re ready to co-operate with the police force as long as you turn out more cooperative than Parisians. We will need city-wide surveillance enhanced with the Akuma-detecting algorithm. You will get the program by tomorrow. Akuma Shelters would help minimize the strain during the attacks. And Arkham Asylum is to be on total lockdown. If possible, send the saner part to Black-gate. The rest is to be kept under wraps or in medically-induced comas. If even one of those madmen is corrupted…” She was narrowing her eyes to the point she almost closed them. Her fists were making a crunching sound as bones withstood great pressure. Pink Tigress was out for blood. 

“Agreste preys on emotions. Today’s attack was purely made out of spite and we suspect he didn’t even plan it. The girl he obsesses over announced her relationship to the public.” Ladybug stopped her mother before she said something she would regret. “We need to find him before he entrenches and it turns into a siege. We know who he is this time, but not who he works with…” 

“Known weaknesses? Ways to prevent possessions?” Gordon asked, scratching the back of his head. 

“We will send everything tomorrow. We need to go before the magic exhausts us.” Ladybug saluted before she and Black Cat leaped onto the top of the manor and disappeared in the forest behind it.

Pink Tigress smiled behind her mask and disappeared inside the Manor. Nobody saw her after that. 

---------

The couple arrived at the garden gazebo Damian showed her the first day and dropped the transformation. It was cold, but a small herbal fire burned inside and warmed them. Damian took off his jacket and put it over Marinette’s shoulders. She cuddled closer to him still, shaking not only from the temperature.

Silently, she cried for a good ten minutes before her eyes ran dry. 

“It will be okay, Habibti. This time, you’re not alone. And when we find him… He won’t walk out of there.” He muttered the last part low enough that shaken Marinetet didn’t hear him. She just wanted the comfort of his body heat and the embrace. She could hear his heartbeat and it served to calm her down. 

“I wanted this to be over. We were supposed to have peace… I can survive the occasional supervillain attack. But not… not him,” she sniffled. “Why…”

“Don’t worry angel. He won’t hurt you. Not today and not ever. By my sword I swear it to you.” 

“Damian… Thank you. You… We are in this together.” She smiled weakly. He pulled her closer. Simultaneously, their phones vibrated. 

Damian felt something shift and saw two steaming hot cups of hot chocolate in Ladybug-themed cups. From behind the fire, Tikki and Plag winked at the couple and hid again. 

“Happy new year Angel.” He gave her a cup and kissed her forehead. 

“Happy new year, grumpy cat.” She joked, hoping to light the atmosphere. Before Damian could protest she pulled him by his shirt into a searing kiss. 

Any protest he would have had over that nickname died before it could properly formulate. His mind shut down for a moment and he embraced his wife. They stayed like that for a long time. Just the two of them, the fire, and the steaming hot chocolate. 

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

Masterlist // Next

[robininthelabyrinth]

Sufficiently strong emotionally-charged moments of physical contact can occasionally forge long-term telepathic bonds between cultivators. These bonds are usually based on positive emotions like familial or romantic love, or deep feelings of friendship, but the emotions don’t necessarily have to be positive to forge a bond. Wei Wuxian is very upset to find out that punching Jin Zixuan in the face apparently counts as a sufficiently strong emotionally-charged moment of physical contact.

on ao3

Wei Wuxian had been obsessed with the idea of a resonant bond ever since he first learned about it.

Sure, it was a rarity. It was easier for a cultivator to find a friend, a lover, or even a soulmate than it was for them to create a resonant bond, which required not merely liking or understanding or even love but rather a single moment in time in which two cultivators were on exactly the same wavelength.

Their cultivation strength, their frame of mind, the state of their bodies, the exact way in which they touched – in that one moment, everything would be exactly the same, and the Heavens would forget for that brief moment to see the two as separate, like two separate raindrops merging into one before the moment passed, some difference introduced, and they were broken apart into separate beings again. Yet even after they separated, they would irrevocably retain some aspects of the other, a connection that generally manifested, it was said, as a mental bond that could not be broken, a tie that would keep them bound together no matter the distance.

Such a thing could not be worked towards, only hoped for; it was a matter of luck.

Wei Wuxian had never wanted anything more in his life.

The thought of never being alone again – it enticed him, it excited him. Jiang Cheng could wrinkle his nose in distaste at the idea that he might not be alone in his mind anymore, that someone would see all the stupid or terrible things he sometimes thought, but to Wei Wuxian that was the best part: that someone would see you and know you and you would see and know them, too. To have someone to accompany you through the best and worst moments of your life, always at your side…

To never fear abandonment, to never need to worry about someone going out only for a little and then never coming back.

It would be amazing.

That was what Wei Wuxian thought.

Well, that was what he thought right up until he punched Jin Zixuan in the face for insulting his shijie, his whole heart burning at the unfairness of adults who didn’t understand, at other boys who didn’t appreciate what they had, at everything all around them and at his own weakness in not being able to do more, and something just –

Clicked.

-

“Hey, wake up! Wake up! Are you all right?”

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes, only to be assaulted with what felt like double vision. Above him were Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang, hovering and looking anxious, and from the corner of his eye he could see Lan Wangji, who he so enjoyed teasing, was sweeping over to them with a grim expression – and yet at the same time he thought he could perceive different faces above him as well.

Three young men and two women, all looking down at him with smiles like sharks, ready to devour. Each one of them draped in the gold they lusted to take from his hands –

What the fuck? Wei Wuxian thought groggily. How did I end up on the ground?

Good question. I didn’t think I got punched that hard.

Wait, Wei Wuxian thought. Hold up, I got punched? I didn’t even see the peacock lift his fists!

…Wei Wuxian? Is that – you?

Wei Wuxian’s eyes went wide when he realized he hadn’t said any of that out loud, that to judge from Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang’s chatter they hadn’t heard either him nor the other voice. Which meant that the voice had to be...in his head. Is this – this is a resonant bond. We formed a resonant bond!

Shit, Jin Zixuan thought, because it was Jin Zixuan, wasn’t it? Shit, shit, shit. Please don’t say anything about this to anyone!

What? Why?

Please!

Wei Wuxian hadn’t even known that the peacock knew that word.

Fine, he said, feeling generous on account of the whole bond business. I won’t tell. For now.

“Wei-xiong?” Nie Huaisang asked, looking worriedly fretful. “Are you all right? You haven’t said anything.”

“I’m fine,” he said, rubbing his head and trying to think of a lie to explain why he fell over like that. “I think the peacock must’ve had a talisman or a defensive weapon or something. Whatever it is, I’m fine now.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re all right,” Jiang Cheng said, looking deeply relieved. And then, a moment later – “Because I’m going to kill you - !”

There wasn’t too much time to talk after that. Wei Wuxian was sentenced to kneeling, and then his Uncle Jiang arrived and Sect Leader Jin arrived – oh no, oh no, oh no, I fucked up, Jin Zixuan thought hopelessly, and Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but feel a bit of the same – and the next thing Wei Wuxian knew, the engagement between Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli was broken and he was being sent to pack up his things, to be taken home at once.

Jin Zixuan was swept away by his father, too.

“A pity about the engagement,” Sect Leader Jin remarked idly as they walked together. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have said such a thing. Your mother will be disappointed.”

Wei Wuxian could feel the way that that jabbed at Jin Zixuan’s heart like a stab with a sword.

“Still, it’s no harm,” the man continued, indifferently ignoring the impact his words had had on his son. “One could even call it a gain! You won’t be burdened down with that shrew’s daughter anymore.”

That what?!

Tune out of this conversation, please, Jin Zixuan said, his thoughts dull and sluggish and resigned. It’s going to get worse from here on out.

It did.

Sect Leader Jin commented at some great length about his views on Madame Yu’s many faults – her temper, her strength, her nosiness, her thought that she was worth anything other than a pair of legs and an inheritance – and contrasted it with some salacious comments on her positive traits – mostly the legs, with a few comments on the upper half as well – and then he started speculating about Jiang Yanli, too, in a way that made Wei Wuxian’s blood boil.

It’s not about her, Jin Zixuan told him, his voice a little desperate in a familiar way – he was used to having to defend his father, and just as obviously didn’t want to. He’s building up a defense.

What?

For my mother. She’ll be angry at him for agreeing to break the engagement, so he’ll say that it was my idea, say all this stuff, and then she’ll be angry at me for believing it, instead, even though I don’t. This isn’t what I wanted at all.

Wei Wuxian frowned. You wanted to marry my shijie? You sure didn’t show it!

No, I just didn’t want to marry anybody, Jin Zixuan said, and…okay, fine, that was a pretty respectable position. Wei Wuxian didn’t particularly want to marry anyone yet, either. I just got angry when everyone was talking about how it was a done deal, that’s all. Just one more thing that got picked for me.

Wei Wuxian had heard Jiang Cheng complain about similar enough things – how much of his life was selected in advance, how much was organized for the benefit of his sect rather than his own interests, how little choice he got. How even if he’d been as good as Wei Wuxian, or even better, he still wouldn’t have been able to go out and hunt pheasants all day the way Wei Wuxian did.

He refused to feel sympathy. Well, you shouldn’t have taken it out on my shijie!

Probably not. Jin Zixuan was silent for a moment. It probably doesn’t help, but I’m sorry for my rudeness.

Wei Wuxian hated it when people were reasonable. It made it so much harder to stay angry at them.

Are you going to tell me why I can’t tell people about this bond yet? he asked. You’d better have a good reason, I had to put up with an entire scolding from Jiang Cheng because I didn’t have a good excuse!

Later tonight. I promise.

That night, Wei Wuxian excused himself early and hid himself in his room on the boat. He knew that he was giving both Uncle Jiang and Jiang Cheng the impression that he was feeling deeply guilty about having broken the engagement, thereby making them feel bad about it, which he didn’t intend, but he really wanted to hear the reason. If it wasn’t good enough, he’d really break Jin Zixuan’s nose this time!

It really is a good reason!

Well, then? If it’s so good, don’t keep me in suspense!

Jin Zixuan sighed. Wei Wuxian felt it like an exhalation on his cheek, as if Jin Zixuan were right there beside him. You know how a resonant bond is supposed to be equal?

What do you mean ‘supposed to be’? Wei Wuxian asked, and felt something cold in his belly.

There are forbidden techniques, ancient ones, that are designed to manipulate a resonant bond into an unequal state. To make one side the master and the other the slave.

That’s disgusting!

If we told anyone, my father would find a way to get one, Jin Zixuan said, and he wasn’t guessing. His voice was utterly certain. There’s very little money can’t buy, and he wouldn’t be able to resist the idea of having a spy in the very heart of the Jiang clan.

Well, then just don’t tell him!

Just like I didn’t tell him about what I said about your shijie?

Wei Wuxian got tripped up by that. It was true, Jin Zixuan hadn’t said a word about what had happened, and yet his father had already known every last detail. How..?

One of my ‘friends’ told him, of course. Probably more than one, actually – I wouldn’t be surprised if they all passed it along. It’s what he pays them for.

He pays for your friends to spy on you?!

I already told you that there’s little money can’t buy. Why not friends?

I wouldn’t be friends with people who accepted money to spy on me. Why do you?

If it’s not this set, it’ll be another, and it’s all the same. If they won’t be bought, then I can’t be friends with them…anyway, I’ve gotten used to these ones.

All of them? Wei Wuxian asked. Even Mianmian? She didn’t seem the type…

Her name is Luo Qingyang, and yes. Her parents are sick and my father’s paying for the treatment; if she doesn’t tell him everything, he’ll cut off funds…she told me about it, though. Said that if there was ever a time that I wanted her to ‘forget’ to report something, she could do that. That’s more than most would do, and probably about as much as anyone can expect –

Have you ever had a friend that wasn’t bought? Wei Wuxian asked. I mean…ever?

Jin Zixuan was silent.

Well, that wouldn’t do.

Well, I guess you have me now, Wei Wuxian thought, with only a tiny amount of self-pity for the stupidity of agreeing to be friends with Jin Zixuan. Still, if he’d survived his efforts at being Lan Wangji’s friend, he could survive anything. No one’s going to buy me!

But –

Nope! No take-backs! We have a resonant bond, peacock. You think I’m going to waste a gift from the Heavens like this just because it’s with you? You’ve got another thing coming!

…can you at least stop calling me a peacock?!

-

Madame Yu made her displeasure clear enough when Wei Wuxian returned, ordering him to kneel all night and do every available chore and things like that, but Wei Wuxian didn’t take it to heart – he never did, really.

Like Jiang Cheng, Madame Yu’s bark was worse than her bite: for all that she hissed and spat and punished him with kneeling or holding up weights, she’d never denied him resources, kept him back from training, or even denied him the spot of head disciple to promote another less qualified in his place, which she very well might have if she were a bit pettier.

So he didn’t take it personally, even if Jin Zixuan seemed indignant on his behalf – you were defending her daughter! You’d think she’d give you some leeway for that, at least! – and at any rate it was better than Jin Zixuan’s slow meandering way home, with his father disappearing every night into a brothel or the bedroom of some innkeeper’s daughter or something like that.

It was better than Jin Zixuan’s mother’s reaction, too, which was to scream and shout and say vicious nasty things, to smash plates and vases against the walls right over his head, and then to pull him into her arms and make him promise over and over again that he would never betray her.

I think I suffered more in terms of physical exertion, but you get full points for all the emotional devastation, Wei Wuxian said after Jin Zixuan returned to hide in his bedroom. Does she do that a lot?

All the time, Jin Zixuan said. All the fucking time.

After a moment, he added, guiltily, It’s only that she loves me –

Ugh, don’t even start with that, Wei Wuxian said. Complaining about awful parent-related trauma is boring, I get enough of it from Jiang Cheng. Help me figure out what I should do tomorrow: flying kites, swimming, or hunting pheasants? Oh, or fishing!

…seriously? Do you spend any time cultivating?

Oh, come on. It’s my first day back!

That just means you have more you need to catch up on!

-

Your shijie is really nice.

I told you!

You didn’t! You just hit me!

-

Wei Wuxian loved having a resonant bond.

Sure, it wasn’t with someone useful like Jiang Cheng or even wonderful like Lan Wangji – I can hear you, you know – but it was kind of nice to have someone to complain to when it would be awkward to put it onto Jiang Cheng or Jiang Yanli.

The other half being Jin Zixuan was also not as bad as he had first thought it would be. Sure, he was just as spoiled, arrogant, vain, and deeply cynical about human nature as Wei Wuxian had thought – I can still hear you! – but he was also an awkward introvert with no social skills and an over-active guilt complex – fuck you too, Wei Wuxian – and, in the sum total of things, surprisingly tolerable. Thanks? I think?

It’d certainly made the indoctrination camp more tolerable, even if it did mean having two people talking in his ear about how he needed to think more about the consequences of his actions and how it might reflect on his sect, and certainly having Jin Zixuan confirming that the other disciples had made it out of the cave and were moving at full speed to try to get help made the days he was waiting with Lan Wangji a lot less stressful, and their ensuing rescue a lot easier.

But sometimes –

This is a terrible idea! You can’t do it!

You don’t get a say! Wei Wuxian snarled. This is my decision.

Fuck you, Jin Zixuan said. A moment later, quieter: Is this because I couldn’t make it to you in time to help?

Wei Wuxian swallowed, feeling his eyes burn. The Wen attack was a surprise to everyone, he said. Even if you were able to convince your father to let you go help with everyone you had, it wouldn’t – you wouldn’t have made it in time to do anything.

After his father had refused, Jin Zixuan had snuck out of Jinlin Tower through what he’d thought was a secret passage and tried to go anyway, only to be caught and dragged back. Wei Wuxian appreciated the effort, even if it didn’t make a difference in the end.

When they were on the run from the Wen sect, after, Jin Zixuan had encouraged Wei Wuxian to head to Lanling, swearing that he wouldn’t allow anyone to turn them over to the Wen sect, but they hadn’t gotten that far.

And now…

It’s my choice, Wei Wuxian said. You don’t get a say.

Fuck you, Jin Zixuan said again, but his voice was softer. Fine. But I’m here for you.

Wei Wuxian smiled, just a little bit, and told to Wen Qing to start.

-

I’m going to murder my father, Jin Zixuan said, conversationally. And then go to the hell reserved for patricides and be reborn as a chicken right before slaughter.

For shame, Wei Wuxian said. Not even a lamb or a goat?

No, I want to be able to bite someone and mean it, and chickens are better at that than goats.

Wei Wuxian giggled, a little hysterically. It’s fine, he said, looking around the Burial Mounds. It’s fine that he won’t let you come to my rescue immediately. Not like I’m going anywhere.

He’d thought – they’d both thought – that the resonant bond would break or maybe transfer to Jiang Cheng along with Wei Wuxian’s golden core, but it hadn’t.

Wei Wuxian had been depressingly grateful for it, for the by now familiar Lanling cadence of Jin Zixuan in his head. It made the horrible quiet empty of the Burial Mounds a little more tolerable, a little less awful.

Anyway, he said briskly, shaking off his terror at being here alone but for the voice in his head. I have an idea…

-

I feel like if I knew Chifeng-zun looked like that I would’ve made befriending Nie Huaisang more of a priority when I was younger.

I know, right? Wei Wuxian thought back. Just…wow.

A moment later, he added, a little irritably, I thought you were into my shijie again?

I am! I’m allowed to have eyes, okay?

Not if you’re surnamed Jin you aren’t.

Fuck you.

Nope. And Chifeng-zun isn’t going to, either.

He could feel Jin Zixuan rolling his eyes. I don’t even want him to, I was really just looking. Anyway, how’s Lan Wangji doing?

Lan Zhan? He’s – well, he’s always bothering me about going back to Gusu with him, talking about how my demonic cultivation is dangerous to me, but oh, you should have seen him when he joins us to fight..! You can forgive anything, really, just to watch him move – Wei Wuxian paused. Wait, why are you asking?

No reason.

Jin Zixuan! You tell me this instant -

-

Jin Zixuan was locking Wei Wuxian out of his head again.

It was a technique they’d worked on developing together – with some assistance from Wei Wuxian’s brilliance and Jin Zixuan’s ability to find and purchase extremely rare reference texts, whether on resonant bonds or just more generally, including when Wei Wuxian had needed some help figuring out some things about demonic cultivation while trapped on the Burial Mounds – as it had become moderately urgent following Jin Zixuan’s first spring dream involving Jiang Yanli, and even more so once he’d decided that he really did want to marry her, actually, if she’d be willing to have him.

There were some things Wei Wuxian did not need to know about his shijie.

Still, it was unusual for him to block him during the day. One might even call it suspicious.

I’m sorry, Jin Zixuan said abruptly. It had to be done, and you weren’t going to do it.

Huh? What are you talking about…?

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng shouted, and Wei Wuxian turned, surprised. His shidi’s eyes were red as if he’d been crying, and he ran up and pulled him into his arms. “Wei Wuxian…!”

“What?” he asked, puzzled. “What’s this about…?”

“How could you?!” Jiang Cheng demanded, weeping into his neck. “You should have told me – you had no right to – to give me – Wei Wuxian!”

Wei Wuxian’s back went stiff. You didn’t!

It was the truth or you getting kicked out of your sect! He needed to know!

Fuck you! It wasn’t your choice to make!

I’m not going to stand by and let you get schemed against, Jin Zixuan said. Certainly not by my own father. I won’t!

I’m going to make you pay for this, Wei Wuxian said darkly, then looked down at Jiang Cheng in his arms. And possibly thank you for it. But I’m definitely going to make you pay!

-

This may sound weird, Jin Zixuan said. But I think I’m being poisoned.

Based on what I know about Lanling Jin sect and its politics, it’s not weird at all, Wei Wuxian said instinctively, then frowned. Are you serious? It’s not just baby fatigue or something?

That’s what I thought at first, too. But now I’m not so sure. He was silent for a moment. I don’t want to sound like my mother, but…

You think it’s Lianfeng-zun? I’m not saying he doesn’t have the most motive for it, but do you really think..? He seems so nice.

He is, most of the time. Jin Zixuan sighed. Maybe I really am just tired.

Wei Wuxian didn’t think so. He’d had a half-dozen years of listening to the backstabbing, vicious world of Jinlin Tower under his belt by now – had fought bitterly in the war only to fight even more bitterly for something like the right to attend his own shijie’s wedding, something that ought to have been his by right – had nearly suffered an ambush when he tried to attend Jin Ling’s first month party, with Jin Zixun attacking him and Wen Ning going unexpectedly crazy and Jin Zixuan rushing over as fast as he could to make them all stop. If he hadn’t already known about Jin Zixuan not knowing about this, if he hadn’t felt something go wrong and thrown himself in between them without thinking, Jin Zixuan might’ve died there and then on the Qiongqi path.

If Jin Zixuan thought he was being poisoned, he was probably being poisoned.

I’ll come visit you and look into it, Wei Wuxian said. We can pretend that I’m there to visit shijie.

They’d long ago confessed the truth to Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, of course. For some reason, neither had looked all that surprised.

With your reputation, even if you figured something out, who’d believe you? Jin Zixuan asked. Ask Hanguang-jun if he’ll come, his reputation will bear up.

Lan Zhan? Sure! I’m always happy to work with him. But you know, he’s been ignoring me recently…I don’t know why…

Tell him about the resonant bond.

What? I thought we were still keeping it a secret.

Tell him. He doesn’t tell anyone anything.

Good point, I guess. You think that’ll help him stop ignoring me?

Yes.

Wei Wuxian generally trusted Jin Zixuan’s reading of people, now that he was mature enough not to let his personal feelings cloud his judgment. All right, I will. Can you tell me why?

You’ll find out when you tell him.

Unhelpful.

Noted and ignored.

Fuck you.

Yeah, you too. See you soon.

-

Jin Zixuan?

Yeah?

Thank you for my love life, but also, FUCK YOU.