#I'm sorry if this makes no sense it probably doesn't

[nemisuki]

Good Soup

Fantasy AU | In a world of whimsical wonders and magic, the only thing you're curious about is why the blonde suddenly got shy at a simple goodnight. The language barrier between them is what keeps them closer. 

᧔o᧓ || Katsuki Bakugo x f!reader, no manga spoilers, no nsfw, pure fluff, no angst, aged up, mutual feelings, split pov, language barriers, bkg learning english, silly bestie kirishima included, love confessions gone wrong, oneshot, bkg is a softie, 2.1k word count

"Go on! You can do it!"

An encouraging smile forms on her face. Her hands clasping together as she practically jumps up and down from mere excitement that he finally agreed to her request. 

Her eyes are completely on him, not wanting to look away. 

It takes a moment for Bakugo to register her words. Attempting to recall what she's been teaching him. 

He assumes she's saying something encouraging, given that bright smile of hers.

He can't believe he's doing this. If it was anyone else he wouldn't even be attempting this shit. But one look at her excited expression made his mind think otherwise.

Plus she's been bothering him about this for weeks now. 

Under his breath, he grumbles a handful of curses in his native language, courtesy of his tribe. He switches his weight onto the other foot, crossing his arms over his chest.

She is quick to notice his sudden fidgeting. A sign of discomposure.

But she thinks it's charming. So she'll keep it to herself.

Y/N takes a step forward in his direction, softening her eyes at the sight of him. Realizing she may have unknowingly put too much pressure on him, "Oh I'm sorry! You don't have too, if you don't want to-"

"N-ɳαɱҽ.... αɾҽ... Bαƙυɠσ Kαƚʂυƙι...."

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

Her heart hastens at the sound of his deep voice. His slow and hesitant words echoing in her ear. The foreign accent made her skin tingle with bliss.

After his words, she lets a few giggles escape her lips. Not directed at him, but because the way he avoids eye contact was simply adorable.

She can tell he tried his best.

"Almost!" she says while gently taking a hold of his hand. His body tensing as she makes physical contact.

His eyes darted back and forth between her hand and delicate eyes. She speaks gradually to correct his wording, "my name.... is.... bakugo katsuki.”

She nods in his direction for him to try again.

The sensation of her much smaller hand holding his, the warmth of it, gives him an odd sense of tranquility.

How stupid.

"M-Mყ ɳαɱҽ ιʂ Bαƙυɠσ Kαƚʂυƙι"

"Yes! You did it!"

She squeals with delight. Having to restrain herself from pulling him into a hug. Knowing he'll probably shove her off not a moment after.

So instead she simply squeezes his hand. Honestly a bit shocked he hasn't pulled away yet-

Without warning, she can feel his fingers slowly intertwine with her own. Causing a shiver to go up her spine. 

What is he...

"Gσσԃ.... ɠσσԃ ɱσɾɳιɳɠ"

Huh?

Y/N stares at the blonde, now perplexed at his words. He must've picked it up from their travels together. But does he know what it means? It's not morning but night time.

She tilts her head and lets out a small laugh. How refreshing.

"Hm? Did you mean goodnight?"

The tips of his ears quickly turn red as he hears her laughter.

“Gσσԃɳιɠԋƚ" he says, tightening his grip on her hand. Looking into her eyes, now a bit more sincere with his words.

"Ah- you're going to sleep already? I suppose you do sleep early" she hums while nodding in his direction.

"Goodnight Bakugo!"

She's about to pull away yet his grip on her doesn't lessen. His eyes slightly widening at her words.

The blush from his ears immediately spreads across his cheeks in a light dust of pink.

"G-Gσσԃɳιɠԋƚ Bαƙυɠσ?" he mumbles to her in slight disbelief.

"Huh? Uh- yeah... Goodnight Bakugo" she says now bewildered by his reaction.

He doesn't move for a few seconds but then his own eyes soften. Completely catching her off guard.

She's never seen such a calm look on his face. And she didn’t know how she lived up til now without seeing it. 

Y/N watches as he pulls his hand away from hers. Now feeling cold without the physical contact. Her fingers twitch, wanting to feel that warmth again.

He takes a hold of the red necklace that's resting along his collarbone. Tugging it off and draping it over her head instead. Lifting her hair so it could sit perfectly around her neck.

She can feel her cheeks warm up at the gesture, "what- your giving this necklace to me? But it's yours" she says, looking down at the red pendants hanging off the black string.

"ʏ/ռ Gσσԃɳιɠԋƚ"

His hand lifts up to gently touch her flushed cheek. Only making her more bashful by the minute. 

What's up with him?

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ  ⎯⎯ ✦

The next morning was quite chaotic.

Y/N emerges from their tent, still feeling drained from her sleep. They’ve been traveling a lot recently and haven’t had the chance to rest up properly. 

She steps over to the campfire, joining Bakugo and Kirishima for some breakfast. Seems like the blonde is cooking some soup. 

"Hi you two" she says, yawning and attempting to rub her eyes awake.

She didn’t even have the time to sit down when-

"Y/N?! Why are you wearing Bakugos necklace?!" Kirishima quickly whispers to her, looking baffled and sending a suspicious look her way. 

Kirishima was completely fluent in the English language unlike Bakugo. Apparently when dragon kind are mere fledglings, they're especially quick to pick up multiple languages.

Hence this left Kirishima to be the translator for the trio. 

The duo found Y/N a few months ago, a rogue traveler who enjoyed exploring the world. She practically clung to the two after they helped her take out some bandits, who previously attempted to steal her rare items such as unicorn hair and some potions. 

She grew fond of the duo and decided to tag along ever since. At first Bakugo was completely against the idea. But the red haired dragon took a quick liking to her. So against Bakugos will, Kirishima allowed her to join them.

And so they’ve been traveling together since then. Exploring the world and taking on quests for gold. 

For now they needed rest, so they set up a little camp for a few days. 

"Huh? Oh this!" her hand gently traced over the variety of red beads. A sheepish smile sneaked on her face as she recalled yesterday's events, "Bakugo gave it to me last night when you went out to collect more firewood.”

The blonde ignores the whispered chatter behind him, continuing to stir the pot of soup around. Well not like he could understand what they are saying anyways. 

Meanwhile, Kirishima practically jumps out of his seat from her words. Looking at Y/N as if she had two heads.

"Kirishima? What's wrong?"

"You're telling me Bakugo willingly gave that to you?! Did he tell you anything else?!"

"Uh- well... he just told me goodnight is all"

"Goodnight?"

But before she could respond, Bakugo was already walking towards them. Holding two bowls of warm soup and handing one to Kirishima. 

His head then turns to look at Y/N, holding the other out to her. He seems to be in thought, trying to recall the right words to say, "...ԋι... ʂσυρ... ϝσɾ ყσυ?"

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

"Good Morning Bakugo! Ah thank you so much" she takes the warm bowl and looks back up at him. Feeling her body tingle with joy. A warm smile displayed across her face. 

Kirishima's eyes are practically bulging out of his sockets as he looks between the two. Having a sudden realization.

He quickly looks in Bakugos direction and starts speaking in their native tongue. 

"BαƙυႦɾσ! Aɾҽ ყσυ ƚɯσ σϝϝιƈιαʅ?!"

The blonde's mood suddenly switches as he stares at Kirishima. Immediately soured at the dragons words, "Tƈԋ ɳσɳҽ σϝ ყσυɾ ԃαɱɳ Ⴆυʂιɳҽʂʂ ʂԋιƚƚყ ԋαιɾ!"

"Hσʅყ ƈɾαρ ყσυ αɾҽ! Yσυ ɠαʋҽ ԋҽɾ ყσυɾ ɳҽƈƙʅαƈҽ αɳԃ ιƚʂ ƚɾαԃιƚισɳ ιɳ ყσυɾ ƚɾιႦҽ ƚσ ɠιʋҽ ιƚ ƚσ ყσυɾ σɳҽ ƚɾυҽ ʅσʋҽ! Cσɳɠɾαƚʂ ɱαɳ!" he shines an excited grin and pats Bakugos back encouragingly. His wings fluttered involuntarily with pure delight.

"Hαɳԃʂ σϝϝ ԃαɱɳ ιƚ!" Bakugo yells back, trying to shove his hand away. Followed by a couple of empty threats directed at the red head. 

After a few seconds, confusion suddenly dawns on Kirishima. He takes a peek back at Y/N who is sitting down on a log calmly eating her soup. Already used to the twos bickering so much that it doesn't faze her. 

"Wαιƚ, ԋσɯ ԃιԃ ყσυ ƚɯσ ҽʋҽɳ ƈσɳϝҽʂʂ? Dιԃ ყσυ ƚҽʅʅ ԋҽɾ ιɳ Eɳɠʅιʂԋ?"

"Lιƙҽ I ʂαιԃ Ⴆҽϝσɾҽ! Nσɳҽ σϝ ყσυɾ Ⴆυʂιɳҽʂʂ!"

"Aɯ ƈ'ɱσɳ BαƙυႦɾσ! I'ɱ ƈυɾισυʂ!"

The blonde lets out an annoyed sigh. Knowing Kirishima won't stop his pestering anytime soon unless he answers. So reluctantly he speaks in a quiet grumble, "I ʂαιԃ.... goodnight ƚσ ԋҽɾ"

A moment of silence passes between the two. 

Kirishima tries processing his words but he furrows his brows completely lost, "Uԋ σƙαყ? Sσ ɯԋҽɳ ԃιԃ ყσυ ƈσɳϝҽʂʂ ƚσ ԋҽɾ?"

"Hαԋ? I ʝυʂƚ ƚσʅԃ ყσυ ʂԋιƚƚყ ԋαιɾ!"

"Wαιƚ- ɯԋαƚ?! Nυ υԋ!"

"I ƚσʅԃ ԋҽɾ goodnight! Aɳԃ ʂԋҽ ʂαιԃ ιƚ Ⴆαƈƙ!"

"Hσʅԃ σɳ, ԋσʅԃ σɳ! BαƙυႦɾσ! Wԋαƚ ԃσ ყσυ ƚԋιɳƙ goodnight ɱҽαɳʂ?"

"Eԋ? Wԋαƚ ƚყρҽ σϝ ϙυҽʂƚισɳ ιʂ ƚԋαƚ! Iƚ ɱҽαɳʂ I ʅσʋҽ ყσυ ιɳ ҽɳɠʅιʂԋ!"

Kirishima couldn't believe what he was hearing. From Bakugo out of all people. 

The dragon practically bursts into a fit of laughter. Holding his stomach and wiping tears from his eyes that started to form at this revelation.

Bakugo stares at him baffled then a look of embarrassment forms on his face,"ԃσɳ'ƚ ƚҽʅʅ ɱҽ-"

"D-Dυԃҽ! Goodnight ԃσҽʂɳ'ƚ ɱҽαɳ I ʅσʋҽ ყσυ ιɳ ҽɳɠʅιʂԋ!" Kirishima manages to say in between his relentless giggles.

"Mρԋ-" Bakugo quickly turns around to hide his face. He couldn't believe it. But it makes sense now, last night's look of confusion on her face.

The way she went straight to the tent after he gave her the necklace. He just assumed she was just as shy as he was. 

"Hey what are you two talking about?" Y/N says walking in their direction with a look of interest in her eyes. 

"Nothing, just Bakugo thinking he confessed-"

At the sound of his voice, the blonde spins around and slaps the back of Kirishima's head. Not understanding much but knowing he's up to no good. Making the dragon stop mid sentence to whine and rub his scalp.

Bakugo eyes travel to Y/N, more specifically the necklace around her neck. His necklace. 

He huffs and points at the piece of jewelry. Then proceeds to open his hand at her. Asking for it back silently.

He waits, expecting her to hand it back. 

The blonde was beyond embarrassed that she didn't understand his motivates yesterday. Thankfully she seemed oblivious to it all. 

In his tribe, it's tradition for males to pass on their necklaces to their lover, signifying eternal devotion and trust. Yet the two weren't official after all like he originally thought. 

He'll just give it to her another time. When he learns how to properly confess.

But then all his thoughts pause when he sees Y/N pouting and shaking her head no. Holding the necklace closer to her body so he can't snatch it away.

"I want to keep it please" she says softly to him, hearing her own heartbeat in her ears from the nerves. She doesn't know why he wants it back, but she feels closer to him this way. It's the first thing he's ever given her.

Kirishima being the third wheel, quickly translates to Bakugo with a sly grin.

Bakugo listens then lets out a sigh of defeat. Waving his hand dismissively to her, allowing Y/N to keep it. She smiles brightly and nods towards him, “thank you bakugo!” 

He grunts in response and walks away to serve himself a bowl of soup. Or perhaps to hide the flushed look on his face. 

One day he'll learn how to confess. Maybe he’ll ask Kirishima for some help later on. 

What a pain.

But little did the blonde know.

Y/N was already planning to ask Kirishima the same thing. Trying to learn Bakugos native language in hopes of confessing her feelings. 

Kirishima could only bite back his tongue to hide his knowing smile. Looking at the oblivious pair as they all eat breakfast around the campfire.

Though he couldn't help but to let out a small chuckle at the sheer coincidence of it all.

"Hm? What's so funny Kirishima?"

He dismissively waves his hands at Y/N's comment and smirks, "nothing at all, just realized I forgot to say goodnight to you yesterday" he says, holding back a laugh as Bakugos head snaps in his direction. 

The blonde sends Kirishima a deadly glare. Standing up to teach him a lesson. Seems Bakugo reached his daily limit of the redheads teasing, "Yσυɾ ԃҽαԃ ʂԋιƚƚყ ԋαιɾ!"

That's how Kirishima ends up hiding behind her as Bakugo stomps towards the two. Leaving poor Y/N as a human shield.

She still has no idea what's going on but laughs alongside Kirishima as the three chase each other around the campfire. 

What a good day…. and night?

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ     ⎯⎯ ✦

A/N ||| This fanfic was inspired by a Fantasy Bakugo x Reader piece I read a LONGGGG time ago on Wattpad. When I was younger, I was obsessed with this fic as a newbie reader & mha fan. Unfortunately it never had a proper ending, as it's incomplete like many other forgotten fanfics out there. I’ll add the link here to credit them but please remember it's INCOMPLETE! And the author won’t update it anymore so fyi! This was oddly healing to my younger self, kinda funny how I went from being a reader to the writer :)

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Cold Jealousy

I am back once again with more Silco brain rot. Feeding all of you who need the content as well as myself.

Summary: Who knew jealousy was all it took for to have your first kiss with Silco?

He hates the coiling in his stomach that arises whenever you laugh at something a patron says. It sickens him, seeing you lean in so close to another man, your lips moving as you say something and then smile, causing the table to burst into laughter. He knows you're simply close friends with them, after all they are your childhood friends, people who grew up with you, so of course you'd act overly familiar with them but he can't stop his chest from tightening, his fingers twitching.

The nib of his pen pierces through the page he was writing on and he scowls angrily at the mess, trying to drown out your voice but it's intoxicating, a melody that snatches his attention away from the numbers in his notebook. Your laughter is like a drug, leaving him wanting more every time he hears it, and the thought that it's someone else eliciting it drives him insane.

"You alright there?" Vander slides him a glass of scotch, worry clear gentle grey eyes.

"I'm fine," Silco spits back, a little harsher than intended. Of course Vander would notice something was off, Vander knew him way too well. He turns back to his notebook, trying to suppress the whispers that begin to cloud his mind and stares at the numbers, willing them into his brain.

"You know they only have eyes for you right? They don't look at anyone the same way they look at you." Vander glances over at the table where you're currently playing a game of cards, and from the looks of it, losing.

"I know," Silco scowls, stabbing the page with his pen. Vander simply huffs and turns to attend to the customer who just pulled up at the counter. Silco rolls his eyes and closes the notebook, he's done for the night. There's no way he can continue concentrating when you laugh like that, when butterflies flutter in his chest and turn to stone as he remembers you're not laughing at something he said or did.

"I'm going to get some air," he grunts, slipping out the back door.

Out of habit, he makes his way to the rooftop, sitting at his usual spot and looks out at the sprawling underground city beneath. Neon lights flash from various stores like stars, illuminating figures as people walk past but the silhouettes disappear just as quickly, fading back into obscurity. It's the same pattern every night, he's memorised some of the figures already, knows the habits of certain individuals, and has noted the important ones. He spots the lady with twin brown hair buns who frequents the brothel opposite, the two enforcers who always sneak into the nearby drug store during their nightly patrol and nearly misses the sound of your footsteps.

"Hey." You take your seat next to him.

"Y/N." He barely spares you a glance before looking back at the city below. The night wind whistles through the air, sending shivers through his body and he curls up, hugging his knees to his chest. Dammit, he forgot his coat. The air here is chillier at this time of the year, being so far away from the hustle and bustle of the city's nightlife, but it brings a sense of peace that he treasures, especially when it's with you. Tonight, it just feels cold, probably from his lack of a coat, but there's a numbness he can't explain.

The clink of glass snaps him out of his thoughts and he glances up to see you produce a bottle of wine as well as two glasses.

"Sorry, I couldn't swipe a bottle of scotch so I grabbed the next best thing before anyone could catch me," you smile at him and pop the bottle open. The red liquid sloshes in the glass as you fill it up and hand it to him, "peace offering?"

He wrinkles his nose but takes the glass anyways, mumbling a thank you before letting the liquid slide down his throat. It doesn't have the same burn as scotch does, but there's still a pool of warmth that sits in his belly, although it does little to alleviate the chill he feels.

You smile and pour a glass for yourself, taking a sip, following the direction of his eyes. Silco swirls the red liquid around in his glass, biting his lip. The silence is awkward, but he won't be the first to break it, his pride won't let him. Fortunately, you shift closer to him and shrug your jacket off, wrapping it around his shoulders.

"Don't catch a cold on me."

He snorts in response, tugging your jacket tighter around himself. It smells nice, smells like you with a hint of his cigar's smoke. He can pick out the scent of wine, the smell of the soap you use to wash the jacket, the remnants of Piltover's smell from your afternoon stint and a small smile makes its way onto his face as he remembers the way you threw yourself at him, clutching a bag of freshly baked bread, laughing as you yelled at him to run for his life. The pool of warmth resting in his belly spreads to the rest of his body, sending tingles up his spine as he buries his face into the jacket's fabric. The fabric is worn but still maintains a certain level of softness, and it feels as nice as it smells.

He watches as you finish your glass and exchange it for the bottle, remembering his own unfinished glass and takes another sip. Scotch was still the best drink, a shame you didn't manage to filch a bottle of it. You down half the bottle in one go, sighing in satisfaction and gesture at his glass.

"You don't have to force yourself to finish it, you know?"

He scowls, and finishes the rest of his wine, all the while staring right at you. "As if I'll let you have any of mine."

You laugh, and he finds that your laughter sounds better when it's because of something he said than when it's because of something someone else said, besides, there's the added bonus of giddiness that fills him. He smiles, for the first time tonight and sets the glass down next to yours. The awkwardness has been broken, much to his relief and he feels as though he can breathe easier.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" You gesture towards the myriad of lights. "Piltover's lights can't compare to this."

"That's because most of their lights are the same colour," he snorts, "but yes…it is beautiful."

You beam, taking another swig from the bottle and set the bottle down, leaning back on your hands. The night breeze ruffles through your hair, playing with its strands and Silco watches as a couple of strands fall between your eyes, causing you to huff and puff at it until it falls off your face. The next gust of wind is stronger and you shiver, shifting closer to him. He shakes his head and throws the left half of your jacket over your shoulders so it covers the both of you.

"Don't you catch a cold on me either."

"Thank you for sharing my jacket." You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your own. He nudges you back, the back and forth going on for a while until the jacket slips off your shoulder and he leans over to pull it back on. Electricity crackles from where his skin brushes against yours and he feels his heart leap into his throat when he looks up at you, realising how close the two of you are.

Sure, the both of you know how the other feels, knows the unspoken truth but continue to dance around each other, fearful of what acknowledging the feeling would bring, but tonight just feels right. He feels your hand intertwine with his and he leans in, throat bobbing as he swallows hard. You lean in as well and your lips meet for the first time.

The feeling is addicting, Silco quickly learns. The way your lips lock with his perfectly, the way you lean in as his fingers run through your hair, the way your free arm wraps around his waist, pulling him closer, all of this makes him wish this moment will never end. Unfortunately, the both of you need to breathe and so he reluctantly parts from you, pressing his forehead against yours. It feels natural, to feel your warmth, to hold you underneath your jacket, and from the way you're looking at him with such adoration in your eyes, you feel the same way.

It doesn't need to be said, nothing needs to be said, the only thing he needs to do is close the gap once more and taste the wine on your lips, savouring the sweetness of it all. This is the one time he will admit that wine tastes good, but he still prefers scotch.

Your hand gently cups his cheek and he finds himself leaning into the touch. Your thumb runs over his skin, brushing along his cheekbone and he sighs, surrendering to your warmth. A small smile graces your lips and he can't help but smile back, although his smile is rather lazy.

"We should head back before Vander has to come and haul us away," you murmur and Silco reluctantly extracts himself from your touch.

"And before he closes the bar up so that we don't have to wash the glasses." He picks said glasses up, nudging the empty bottle towards you. "You are still going to throw the bottle away, I'm not touching that."

"Why? You were so eager to touch my saliva just moments ago," you tease, mirth decorating your features.

"I'm not about to deny you your responsibilities." He ducks out of the way as you try to shove the empty bottle into his arms, quickly making his way back into the bar before you can succeed in making your problem his. He hears your annoyed shouts behind him and laughs, sliding into the bar's counter.

Vander raises an eyebrow as Silco places the glasses in the sink and darts off, then shakes his head as you come barreling in, demanding that Silco help you as payment for the wine he drank. He grabs the both of you by your collars and drops you both at the sink. "I believe washing everything in the sink will suffice as payment for the bottle of wine."

You groan when you see the amount of empty cups in the sink and Silco laughs, turning on the water tap. At least you're trapped in this with him, the washing should go by faster.

As the both of you hunch over the sink, you give him a little nudge with your elbow. "Next time, if you're jealous, just step in. I'll leave with you, I promise."

"Jealous?" He splutters. "I wasn't jealous!"

"Sure you weren't, Mr 'angrily stabs an innocent piece of paper with his pen'. Keep trying."

He huffs, turning his attention back to the glass he's currently wiping dry. "I wasn't jealous."

"Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that. I doubt that changes facts though."

"Nobody said that was a fact."

You lightly punch him in the shoulder with your damp fist and he mock glares at you, smacking your arm with the drying cloth but can't stop the smile that's forming on his face.

"Don't ever doubt yourself," you say softly. "You mean everything to me."

And you mean everything to me too.

[silcoitus]

Hello! I think I'm doing this right but if not, I'm so sorry:

What do you think Silco would do if he found out, years later/during Act 2, that a fling he had when he was alot younger and dumber, resulted in him having a Son/Gender neutral child living in Piltover?

(how this is discovered can be completely up to you)

Would the angst of them being a Piltovian(?) citizen permanently leave their relationship undefined or would he push away his hatred of Piltover and try and meet them?

Better yet, how would Jinx react to this?

Just a bit of potential angst to spice things up I guess haha.

Thank you!

Thank you for this amazing prompt, anon! It's one of my favorite ones I've ever received! Why does writing angst soothe me? It doesn't make sense.

Summer's Ghost

Masterlist | AO3 link

Rating: Mature

Tags: Silco, original female character, original child character, angst, depression, reference to character death, character study

Word count: 2.7k

Beta reader: @juniper-sunny

Silco receives a curious letter from a Piltie boy claiming to be his son. Spurred by lingering bitterness and unresolved anger, Silco visits Topside for answers and to finally speak his mind to the woman who left him so many years ago.

Dear Mr. Silco,

I'm not exactly sure how even to begin this letter, so I’ll start with the part that is most relevant to you:

I am your son.

I know, I didn't believe it at first either. But if you keep reading, I can tell you how that happened.

My mother was a brilliant woman, born and raised here in Piltover. She was the top of her class and an artist. My grandparents tell me that, in her university days, she had a bit of a rebellious streak. She ran away from home to live in the Undercity. Over the course of a summer there, she met a man. And fell in love.

You probably know more about how the rest of this story goes than me.

After that summer, my mom had a change of heart. She returned home with a new bundle in tow: me. And while she never told me, I assume she left the Undercity in order to raise me here.

But you probably don’t care about all that. You just want to know why I’m writing to you. 

Well, first off: I'm not asking for money. My mom (and grandparents) provided for me and I have a comfortable life here in Piltover. 

I don't want anything from you. Not really. I wrote because… well… My mother died recently. It's actually how I found out about you. My birth was a closely guarded secret and it was only when I was cleaning her stuff out after her death that I learned. She had a box of things from her time with you: a diary, some photographs, a bracelet. I thought you might want them.

I don’t know what your relationship with my mother was like or how it ended, but this seemed like something she would want me to do. If I crossed a line, I’m sorry. 

I've attached her obituary. It has her final resting place. If you want to collect the box, I've left it on her grave. If you haven’t taken it by next week, I’ll assume you want nothing to do with it. And that’s okay, too.

Sincerely,

M.

P.S I also included a photo for proof. You can hold onto it. I already made myself a copy.

When finally Silco lifts his eyes from the letter, it's with slightly parted lips and inward curling eyebrows. Visions of memories long ago flick across his mind’s eye unbidden, released like water from a dam. 

Setting the letter down, he retrieves the other effects in the pneumatic tube. Fingers tremble as they pull out a small photograph. It's worn around the edges and the ink has faded significantly, but the image is unmistakable: it's him in his early twenties, standing next to the woman who left him.

He remembers that summer clearly, the memories vivid and the feelings so strong it could power a Hexgate. He remembers the late nights talking, the sound of her laugh, the way she was always sketching in her notebook. He remembers the first time they kissed, followed quickly by the first time they made love.

Silco’s lips press into a thin line, something bitter bubbling within him. 

He remembers his desperation when he ran through the Lanes, searching for her. He remembers how he couldn’t sleep for days, worried something had happened. That someone had taken her. Or worse. He remembers crying so hard that he could feel it in his teeth, his cheekbones feeling as if someone was pressing their thumbs to them with the aim of crushing them. He remembers drinking.

And drinking.

And drinking.

Drinking to cope.

Drinking to forget.

Drinking to wash down the bitter taste of the knowledge that he had let someone get so close to him so quickly, only for them to rip his heart out and slash it to pieces. And to add insult to injury—

My mother was a brilliant woman, born and raised here in Piltover.

He stares at that word again.

Piltover

Hand shaking violently, he picks up the pneumatic tube and hurls it across the room. It breaks on impact as it hits the office door, glass shards flying through the air.

Of course.

Who else could chew him up and spit him out? Who else but a Piltie? His home—his life—nothing more than a tourist attraction to her, a vacation away from her cushy, privileged life. 

How could he have been so blind?

How could he have been so stupid?

He can feel his heart rate rising, chest heaving as his breathing grows unsteady. Good eye fluttering closed, he puts one hand out, signaling himself to stop.

Slow down.

Breathe.

He takes one long inhale through his nose, holding it for a moment before blowing it out his mouth through pursed lips. When he opens his eyes, his jaw is set, decision made.

He snatches the letter, photo, and newspaper clipping off the desk, shoves them into his coat pocket, and walks out the door.

As far as final resting places go, this certainly is one of the more luxurious ones. Even in death, Topsiders can’t help but preen and self-aggrandize, if not with their bodies, their tombs. Each gravestone seems to be attempting to outdo the next, growing larger and more gaudy in size as Silco walks down the rows of graves. Subconsciously, his nostrils flare and his mouth twitches into a snarl.

When he finds her name among the dead, he’s surprised to see not a tombstone but rather a park bench. Constructed out of blue pearl granite and polished to a brilliant shine, her name, date of birth, and date of death are carved into the back. The soil around the bench looks freshly turned over and the carved letters barely have any dust or dirt accumulated in them. Studying the dates, it would seem M did not lie; she had died two weeks ago. 

And there—sitting on one end of the bench, waiting for him—is the box.

His chin lifts as his mismatched eyes scan his surroundings, looking over his shoulder, his ears alert and listening for any signs of other visitors. Certain no one is nearby or within eavesdropping distance, he turns his attention back to the bench.

He could just take the box and go. There’s no need for him to linger here. But as he stands staring at her name—carved with such finality into that unmoving stone—he can’t bring himself to leave.

And yet, it’s odd, addressing a bench. On his way over, he had envisioned himself spitting on a tombstone with great satisfaction. But now, as he’s faced with something as welcoming as a bench in a beautifully maintained cemetery, he feels stuck. Any anger that had been boiling in his abdomen before has simmered down, upended by the unexpected appearance of his former lover’s grave.

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieves the photograph. After propping it up on the bench, he addresses the woman who lies six feet underground. 

“You…” He can’t even bring himself to say her name, both hands balled into fists in his coat pockets. “You’ve been here this entire time.”

Both eyes roll as he realizes the error of his statement.

“Not here, but in Piltover.” He brings one hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, good eye squeezed shut. “I searched for you for weeks. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat. I thought someone had taken you. I thought you had—”

Died.

Well.

It’s accurate now, isn’t it?

“Typical Topsider,” he spits out, one hand gesturing as if throwing something away, like the way she had thrown him away, “You come to my home, promising a bright and brilliant future, but all you do is leave destruction in your wake.”

He steps back, pulls his head back, and spits onto the freshly dug soil.

“Disgusting,” he snarls. “And to think, I had lov—”

He pauses, unable to finish the word.

He was young. He was ignorant. That was not love he felt for her. Nor adoration. That was infatuation; merely a young man’s naive idea of what love was.

What that was—it was Not Love.

Silco pulls his fingers through his hair, collecting himself.

“Why?” His hand curls into a fist again. His tone is bitter, full of anger, growing in volume. “I don’t care why you left; I know exactly why you left.” 

As he continues to speak, his concerns about being overheard are overcome by the thundering emotions swelling inside him, churning and bubbling after years of dormancy. “You didn’t want your son to grow up to be a street urchin like his sumprat father. No… all I want to know is…”

His next words are bellowed out, the sound coming from deep within his lungs, each word punctuated with a pregnant pause, as if he means to put his entire body into every syllable.

“Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Me?”

There’s a flurry of wings as nearby birds take flight, spooked by the sudden noise. 

Silco’s good eye flutters closed again and he takes long, deep breaths, recentering himself. His hand comes up, forefinger pressing to his sternum. There’s a desperation to his voice now, a yearning. Mourning something he didn’t even know he had until a few hours ago.

“I had a right to know.” He opens his good eye, staring at the photograph. Staring at her. “He is my son. He is my blood. How could you have kept him from me for so many years?”

He gathers himself, eyes casting to the ground. 

He had so much more he wanted to say. Years of anguish, torment. But now that he’s here, he’s forgotten them all.

He feels empty.

Finally, he slumps down on the bench, next to the box. It remains untouched beside him. He sits with his shoulders sagging forward, both elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together as his head hangs low. 

It’s quiet in the cemetery.

He turns his face toward the photograph, addressing the woman in it with a whisper of a voice. “All I wanted was for you to be okay. For you to live a good life.”  He lifts his head toward the great, open sky of the City of Progress, free from smoke and fissure gasses and ash. “And I suppose I got what I wanted.”

He hangs his head once more, speaking to the ground at his feet.

“You just did it without me.”

A stiff breeze blows through, tugging at his coat. He makes no move to bundle himself up further, letting the chill air surround him, seeping into his bones.

He sits.

And remembers.

After a few moments, he hears movement. Ears prickling and head whipping up, he spots a boy walking between some nearby tombstones. He looks to be a teenager, fifteen—maybe sixteen—years of age. The boy pauses at one of the graves, looking at it silently, his hands shoved into his pockets. After a moment, his eyes lift and meet Silco’s.

Silco meets his gaze, unblinking. The boy doesn’t seem at all fazed by Silco’s corrupted eye, giving him a small, polite nod. Silco nods in return before tearing his eyes away.

Ocean green and volcanic orange eyes pause on the small wooden box on the bench. 

Mahogany. Expertly crafted. Like the bench, it’s beautiful in its simplicity. Unbidden, Silco’s throat bobs as he reaches for the box and gingerly places it on his lap.

After taking a deep breath, he lifts the lid.

The first thing he sees is a bracelet. Black in color and made of thin strips of leather with small circular charms along the strings, it’s plain and modest. The surface of the leather looks almost brittle, worn around its edges from frequent use.

Underneath, there’s a stack of photos. Lifting them, he recognizes the first as one he had taken. The late woman stands laughing beside The Last Drop’s jukebox, Felicia grinning widely next to her. Vander can be seen in the corner, caught mid-sentence as he speaks with whom Silco can only assume is Benzo. Setting down that photo, Silco’s eyebrows lift when he sees the next one.

He doesn’t remember this photo being taken at all, which is curious given the fact he’s the one and only subject of the photo. Silco—sporting long hair tied back in a low bun—sits at the bar, pouring over his notebook. His right arm is wrapped in strips of off-white fabric and in his hand is a pencil, which hovers over the page, posed to write. 

Silco remembers this night.

It was the night Felicia told him and Vander she was pregnant with Violet. It was the night everything changed.

Funny, how the night he learns of one pregnancy happens to also be the night his lover leaves him because of hers.

He hums, continuing to study the photograph.

He had forgotten what he looked like at that age, so used to seeing his marred reflection in the mirror. So used to covering half of his face with foundation just to regain some semblance of normalcy.

Silco’s about to look through the rest of the box when he sees movement out of his periphery. Quickly, he shuts the box and looks up to see the boy from before, standing in front of him.

“Sorry,” he says, voice quiet. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t,” Silco replies simply. His good eyebrow lifts in silent question.

“Is it okay if…” The boy gestures to the empty spot on the bench. 

Silco stands, hand offering the seat, the box neatly tucked under his arm.

“Oh, you didn’t have to leave,” the boy says, scooting over to leave some room. “I just wanted to sit for a little bit.”

Silco eyes him for a moment, then, against his better judgement, sits back down. The mahogany box feels heavy in his lap. The boy’s eyes look at it briefly before looking out into the rest of the cemetery.

The pair sit in silence, the only sound the rustle of the leaves as the wind rushes through the nearby trees. Silco’s hand covers the box, fingers idly smoothing over the carving of a rose on the lid.

He doesn’t know why he does it, compelled by a nagging curiosity, but Silco breaks the silence.

“Do you have family here?”

The boy nods. “My grandpa.”

Silco hums.

Silence falls between them again.

“Do you?” the boy asks, eyes lifting to meet Silco’s.

Silco’s lips press together, the tip of his chipped tooth catching the inside of his mouth a little.

“In a sense.”

The boy sighs. “At least it’s a pretty nice view.”

Silco follows his gaze.

“It is.”

“Well, except for that.” 

The boy points to a large tombstone made of porcelain with gold accents all along its edges. Every inch of it seems to be covered in some sort of design, painted in blue. But the patterns come across as less elegant and more like visual noise; the eye given nowhere to rest, the senses overwhelmed by all the complicated shapes and textures.

Laughing, the boy makes a retching noise. “It’s so ugly.”

Silco’s lips pull into a smirk, head tilting.

“There’s no accounting for taste.”

“Yup.”

The boy abruptly gets to his feet, seemingly satisfied. Turning to Silco, he puts his hand out in offering.

“I’m Marlow, by the way.”

“Marlow.” Silco takes his hand and shakes it. “Nice to meet you.”

The boy nods, seemingly out of words. After offering a small smile, he turns on his heel, heading for the gates.

Silco continues to sit on the bench, thumb rubbing absentmindedly on the box’s carvings. After a moment, his eyes widen and he reaches into his coat pocket for the letter, eyes darting down to the bottom.

M.

He looks up to find the boy has disappeared. He lets a short chuckle out of his nose as he shakes his head, rising to his feet.

After one final look at his ex-lover’s grave, he starts his trek back home.

He has a feeling this won’t be the last time he visits this cemetery.

And it won’t be the last he’s seen of that boy.

Taglist: @averagecrastinator @mazikomo @writingmysanity @insult-2-injury @ariaud @jennrosefx @ins0mniac-whack @steponmesilco  @sherwood-forests @leave-me-alone-silco @givemebeansnow @aeryntheofficial @dreamyonahill @lostbunn @whatisafandom @violet-19999 @juicboxd @sageandberries-png @sirenofzaun @blissfulip @mutedwordz @fly-like-egyptian-musk @jennithejester @mrsdelirium @witheringblooddemon

Join my taglist!

[seriousbrat]

Why do people like Lily? From what we've seen of her in the books she seems like a charming and good hearted person but also someone who is shallow, judgemental, a social climber, a classist and immature. Why do people make her out to be this feminist, kind hearted role model that is always morally above others and everyone likes her because she is oh so kind and great? It makes me cringe. From the text we can see that she had a black and white thinking, was shallow and probably self righeous, always thinking she's right and not being able to see the perspective of others. (We can see this in her interactions with Snape) So why do people love her? Do people really need a 'girl boss' in every fandom? There always seems to be one that's just made up by the fans. It looks like people just need a character they can point at and say "see we care about female characters, this one is oh so great, she can't do no wrong, worship her please." 🙄

Look, no offence, but... what? 'Shallow, classist, judgmental, social climber' what? Where are you getting this? Because she stopped being friends with a boy who literally called her a slur? Because she criticised that boy for defending and befriending people who were bigoted against people like herself? Like sorry but I think I'm entirely the wrong person to come to with this kind of thing. I fully disagree. I could not disagree more.

Black and white thinking? The opposite. Lily remained friends with someone who espoused the exact opposite of her beliefs for way too long. Not just her beliefs, but her right to exist. She tolerated Snape (and I do love him as a character, but still) way more than she should have, objectively speaking. That's the opposite of black and white. She was way too understanding, way too empathetic with him. She didn't judge Snape hard enough, in my opinion.

Nah, look idk what you were hoping with this ask but I'm sorry, I'm generally a staunch Lily defender and I heavily disagree with what you're saying. It's not that I think she's a perfect person, she certainly has her flaws like anyone. I don't think that she should be idealised, I think she should be given complexity like any character, but neither do I think she's classist (esp since she's meant to be working class) nor particularly judgmental nor shallow nor immature. I love Snape but he was terrible to her. He befriended people who wanted her dead. Lily didn't owe him anything, and her """righteousness""" as you say is not only entirely justified, but objectively speaking she should have dropped that bitch way earlier.

Why do people (including myself) love Lily? Because she was a good person. Because she was brave and decent and kind. She remained friends with Sev for years despite peer pressure and common sense and she defended him without hesitation. She dedicated her life to fighting for what was right. Lily is a good person. She's not inherently, morally above others, she's not perfect but she was a good, kind person, the way her son is a good, kind person.

Not that difficult to understand imo, unless you have way higher standards for male characters than female characters. Not everyone has to like or be interested in Lily but pretending she's somehow worse/less worthy of interest than Snape, James, Sirius, Regulus, etc (and I imagine you've got to be a fan of some of these marauders era characters if you're reading my blog) because she dropped a guy who wanted to join a fascist group that wanted her dead is absolutely ridiculous.

Lily is so kind and great. Her act of bravery and sacrifice is what kickstarts the entire HP series. Sorry. Like absolutely not, I completely disagree with you about Lily's character. People liking a female character doesn't mean that they have a shallow 'girl boss' approach to that character, and I find that a condescending explanation for why people like myself might be fans of Lily Evans. Maybe, and you perhaps should consider this, us fans of Lily just enjoy and are interested in female characters the exact same way we might be interested in male ones.

Look I don't want to be mean, but can't you tell from my icon, which is clearly supposed to be Lily, that I love Lily? Lily is one of my favourite HP characters. I really don't want to be rude but I'm absolutely the last person who'd share this viewpoint.

[silverynight]

Tempting

Viktor gets startled when he hears rushed footsteps in the hallway, he doesn't even have the opportunity to turn around before someone runs inside and puts his broad arms around him. There's only one person who likes to do that, so Viktor relaxes immediately.

"I thought you were going to be back next month."

"I missed you, Viktor," Jayce whispers in his ear, instead of answering the question.

He tries to turn around on his seat to face him, but his partner refuses to let go of him.

"Jayce, let me see you." Viktor has learned that he responds better to words. Even thought he's not used to tell or ask people what he wants from them, this is the only thing that seems to work with his friend.

Jayce finally steps back, albeit reluctantly, so Viktor can turn around and see him. It looks like he came straight to the lab as soon as the ship arrived because he's tired, hungry, hasn't rested properly in days and it's written all over his face.

But there's something different about him. Before he can think about what he's going to do, Viktor's hands cup Jayce's face; he starts stroking the other man's beard with his thumbs. He's not sure why, but he finds the sensation pleasant and soothing.

It doesn't occur to him that what he's doing might be weird until he notices that Jayce is slightly bent towards him, but completely still. He looks like he's in shock.

"You're touching me," he blurts out, still surprised.

"I am," Viktor says back, realizing just then that he had never initiated physical contact with Jayce, in fact, he has never touched him on his own before. "I'm sorry."

Before he can take his hands off his friend's face, the other man grabs them and presses them a bit harder against his cheeks.

"No, it's fine!" Jayce assures him, looking a bit desperate for a moment. "You can touch me as much as you want."

"Thank you, but we can't stay like this all day."

"Why not?"

Viktor chuckles at that, noticing that he's in a good mood now; he was feeling down last week and he's beginning to think it was because Jayce wasn't at his side.

"I have a lot of things I need to show you," he says instead, trying not to smile when he notices Jayce's pout.

"So you like it?"

"What?"

"The beard."

"Yes, I think you look good with it," he says absentmindedly, turning around to check his notes again.

It never occurs to him, even as a few days pass, that Jayce's choice of keeping the beard might have something to do with him.

Because it doesn't make sense.

But he does notice that he touches Jayce often now, especially when he leans over Viktor's shoulder to comment on something they're working on, and his face is right next to his. It's really easy to lift his hand and place it on his cheek and stroke his chin just to feel the facial hair there so Viktor does that; it quickly turns into a habit that he does without thinking.

Jayce doesn't seem to mind, in fact, he looks a lot pleased with himself now. Viktor is not sure why he's so smug about something like that.

However, after a while, Jayce starts getting strange ideas.

"You should kiss me."

Viktor drops the screwdriver in his hand before turning around to face his friend.

"What?"

"To feel this against your face," Jayce says, pointing at his beard. "Aren't you curious?"

"I wasn't..." But now he is, unfortunately. "I don't see why kissing you would be the best way to try that."

"It is, trust me," Jayce assures him, leaning dangerously close to him.

Even though the mere thought of his partner being attracted to him is ridiculous, the excuse he just used is so stupid that Viktor has no other choice but to consider the first option.

It's a difficult choice; this will probably change everything between them, and they have to keep working together.

But Viktor's rational inner voice is not that loud that particular night; the temptation to feel Jayce's face against his is stronger than anything else.

Without a warning, Viktor gives him a quick kiss on the lips, the rough sensation of the beard against his smooth skin makes him giggle.

"Well, that was–"

"Not enough," Jayce cuts him off before pulling him into his arms to give him a proper kiss.

The idea of Jayce liking him makes so much sense now that Viktor can feel his partner's hungry lips moving against his.

But he's not going to complain about that.

At some point, they have to breathe, but Jayce decides to press more kisses against his jaw and neck. The beard rubbing on his skin sends shivers down his spine each time.

"Let's go to my room," he almost growls, desperate. "Come on, Viktor."

"Wait... we should think about this first. We have a project together."

"It's okay, Viktor," Jayce cups his face before pressing their foreheads together. "We can be life partners too. We'll make it work. Trust me."

Viktor does. He has always trusted him.

"Alright. Let's give this life partnership a try."

[olderthannetfic]

Sorry in advance if my vent/rambling doesn't make much sense, it's 4am in here and my mind just exploded after seeing the recent asks.

The resuscitated "content" wank reminded me my days where I posted in a contained archive for a pretty rare ship. I never expected people to actually read it, much less comment on the fics, but they did. It was awesome, to have people to talk to in comments --they commented on the fics because they liked it, wanted to support me and keep me going on writing; and I responded to all of them because I was so, so glad people were motivating me.

With this I want to say that I'm sad because this type of fan exchange appears to be so... transactional nowadays. Conditional. I know a lot of readers don't comment because they're shy/don't know what to say, this is not meant at them. I also know that the next subtype of readers are rare, but I've encountered so much of them in a row and I wanted to vent. I've seen readers say that they don't comment *unless* the author responds and that, to me, it's... odd. It doesn't feel... right. Is like the fic doesn't matter, it doesn't matter that you already gave something to your fandom, it only matters if you can give something to *them* specifically.

The people who commented on my fics on that different archive, and I who commented a lot too in others' fics, didn't have in mind the fact of the author responding or not, they had in mind the fic that was already out there and the fics that, giving incentive to the author, could be written afterwards (and the possibility of no more fic for an specific author was fine, since the first one was there).

But that's apparently not enough anymore (for some people)? You not only have to write a fic, but also own the readers a special only-for-them response if they comment, and if you don't respond (never or in a limited timelapse) then you're not *worth* of more comments. And I don't like this kind of framework --of being "worth" or not of something. The thing with commenting is not because the author is "worth" of your comment, is because you liked the work they already did and put out there for the whole fandom to see and you thought "yeah this is good!" and you *want* to thank the author for it, with the possible future in mind of them writing more fics that you'll probably like too.

--

[chokisnumber1fan]

reblogging this at 2 am so my thoughts are SUPER incoherent and very offtopic and tangential, sorry about that </3

this is such a good analysis of nagi's possible backstory! and while i haven't read past the BM v MC match yet, to me this gives a lot more depth to the relationship that nagi and reo have. i might be delusional since nagi is one of my favourites and also since i don't know much about the later chapters other than a really vague direction but i think this serves as a good reminder that neither nagi nor reo are inherently 'bad' or take up an antagonistic role— they are just two boys that got too codependent and need some space away from each other to develop on their own.

i see a lot of people jump to antagonising either nagi or reo, or judge their duo as a good/bad one, but imo it's more important to view them from a more neutral lens since this isn't just about football or just about their personal lives outside of it— we can see just how much their 'personal' affects their 'field relationship' and vice versa.

from here on out i'm probably straying from the main point that OP is trying to make, so you've been warned!!!

also, if we were to assume that nagi is indeed one of the neglected to some extent kids— then i believe that chris and agi could truly have done better with how they handled nagi. it's pretty obvious that nagi is heavily dependent on reo, but instead of cutting reo out entirely they could have trained the two of them together in a way that allows them to still play together but not be completely dependent on the other. but then again i can see why this would be a much harder task to pull off because of their respective goals and their feelings towards each other (more specifically, reo's feelings towards nagi) that would definitely get in the way. like, reo is entirely capable of scoring goals on his own but he chooses not to because his main objective has always been to assist nagi— and because of this, nagi's had everything handed to him on a silver platter by reo. their formation served them well in the initial stages of blue lock but it's falling apart now, in major part because it was mostly an emotionally driven formation, which makes it a lot easier to predict especially if you're someone like isagi who knows them and their relationship.

nagi and reo are somewhat unique in that their struggles are against their own inherent natures and pasts and not because of them lacking in some sort of skill or whatever. nagi doesn't have the drive to do anything unless he has a solid goal that he wants to reach— he just won't bother putting in effort it (just like OP mentioned).

reo is willing to give nagi the attention and validation he needs; and while this was fine in the beginning, you could say he's almost starting to smother nagi now— almost mirroring the relationship reo has with his own parents, ironically enough. it's gotten to the point where reo cannot be trusted as a narrator since he let his feelings distort the words that nagi really said to him at the start of the second selection. he projected his worst fears regarding nagi and made them true in his mind. i think that reo has a problem with idolising and devoting himself to people to the point of detriment, especially to himself.

lord help me i have rambled so much about this, honestly i don't think i'm even making any sense right now. i feel like that deranged connect the dots meme man right now. somehow this all links up and makes sense in my head so i hope my disorganised addition to OPs post will somehow telepathically make sense to anyone else reading this too 🙏🙏🙏👍👍

I have this foreboding feeling that while we are prepared for Sae's and Shidou's backstory, Nagi's backstory is going to sneak from behind and punch us in the gut.

No, I don't think it's going to be straight up depression like Kaiser's, but I do think that it'll hit close to home.

You see, Nagi got Laissez-faire parents which means they never really interfered with his life. Like, these type of parents—as I have read on some websites—will basically set their child free and let them do whatever they want with no or very few rules/restrictions. They will not tell you, "Oh! You should do this!" or "Oh! You shouldn't do this!" They will simply let you figure out your life all by yourself.

I'm not an expert on this and I'm not calling this type of parenting bad in any way. Every child is different with different needs, and I'm sure there are many who grew up in this kinda family and liked this parenting method. However, I do think that Nagi didn't like it that much, and I got two reasons to think this way:

1. "That's nice."

When Reo said that his family constantly meddles in his life, Nagi's immediate reaction was, "That's nice" instead of being surprised or disgruntled. If Nagi really liked his parents NOT meddling in his life, then he should've said something like, "Really!? Sucks to be you, Reo. I can't imagine living a life like that!"

You getting me?

Also, we all know how Nagi is—he definitely feels that telling someone to do or not to do something is a hassle, so he, probably, feels that if someone is doing all this for you, then you are important for them.

And before any one says, no, I don't think Nagi was tying up his tongue thinking, "They are his parents. They wouldn't want anything bad for their own child, right? I shouldn't say anything against them and should say good things about them just to be safe." I don't think he has this kind of filter in him.

2. "Don't die ."

So, why would you not want someone to die? Of course, because you care for them and want them to be with you.

"Want"

That's really what I'm tryna highlight.

It's a pretty common knowledge that some children are just naturally more independent while others are a bit more dependent and seek guidance from the elders. Considering Nagi's first reaction to knowing about Reo's parents' meddling, I think that Kiddo!Nagi falls into the latter category—someone who likes to be guided and helped by the adults. Now, place Kiddo!Nagi with his Laissez-faire parents... You are getting where I'm going with this one?

That's why I think that Kiddo!Nagi, probably, thought that his parents didn't love him/care for him. And what happens if someone doesn't love you or care for you? Yeah, they don't care if you die which, somewhat, explains why Older!Nagi was happy to hear, "Don't die [before us (probably)]" from his parents.

I have already talked about his potential backstory before too, so it was actually when I heard he had longer bangs as a child that made my head turn to him again—something felt odd.

I understand that having long bangs is not a big deal—Niko's bangs literally cover his eyes, but having it as a kid is way different, y'know. Once you are like 12-13, you somewhat become capable of doing your own hair and clothes by yourself, so you can manage whatever aesthetics you prefer. However, for a kid younger than that, it's the parents' responsibility to look after his/her hair and clothes, and we all know that long bangs are quite bothersome—blocks our vision, sometimes stabs the eyes, and even irritatingly itches the nose.

All in all, till his backstory drops, I'd firmly believe that he was, though unintentionally, a neglected kid—at least, emotionally.

Now I can't get this image out of my head where Kiddo!Nagi is longingly staring at other kids in a park where everyone is learning things like riding a bicycle or maybe playing baseball and stuff with their parents while he is just.. there, probably, all alone.

[coddda]

Hiiiiiii. Episode 25/26 lawlight analysis rant thingy here. I don't know how to write an intro for this so let's just get to it LOL

I think one of the reasons that the rain/foot scenes stick out so much (the. Sheer insanity of a Foot Massage Scene in an anime revolving around two guys trying to kill each other aside 💀) is the fact that the anime specifically suffers a bit in terms of adapting a few of the "emotional" moments in death note.

And I don't mean "emotionally impactful" exactly. For example I think the adaptations of scenes like Raye and Naomi's deaths were very impactful and the atmospheres of their final scenes were great, but I mean more from a characterization standpoint (if that makes sense). Being more focused on mind and logic games, Death Note as a whole isn't as invested in individual characters' deeper feelings as it is in its action (which isn't necessarily a criticism per say, it's simply part of the nature of a mystery thriller series). But just because they're fewer and farther between doesn't mean there are none at all. In the manga we do get to see, for example, how much Light actually cared for his family and especially Sayu, and how he actually felt more conflicted and suffered lack of sleep/appetite when he first used the Death Note.

The anime specifically as an adaptation is pretty good at adapting the main mind fuckery and action of Death Note, but its lacking in properly adapting scenes like the ones I mentioned above is a criticism I see somewhat often, and it's pretty fair imo. Compared to all the other adaptations, it certainly seems to fall short on an emotional level: the musical has entire songs going in depth about the characters feelings and relationships, the 2015 jdrama is. Insane and has its emotional moments in spades (because it's a TV drama, which are more focused on portraying emotional conflict and the like), even the 2006 movies has its emotional beats and L Change the WorLd is. Well. Oh Man.

Anime Light to a lot of people is like. Light but he's "already evil" (which I have my own thoughts on but I digress). Light but after using the Death Note for like 2 minutes he's already like "fuck yeah time to kill criminals". Basically the anime doesn't take as much time to delve into his less cynical sides or really delve into his already vague and harder to decipher feelings in general, he is noticeably colder from the get-go here, etc.

But that's part of why I think episode 25 manages to stand out so much tonally (apart from it being, y'know, the episode L literally Dies). I love the episode so much and could probably rant for hours about how much I love the artistic choices made in it but what I'm trying to get at here is that it's one of the very few moments where the show tries to go deeper into specific character's emotions, and one of the very few moments where the show Attempts (emphasis on "attempts" because, well, you'll see in a bit) to get more in-depth into Light's feelings apart from his cynicism/apathy/justice. ness.

L in these two scenes in episode 25 is, well, pretty damn open about how he feels. It's usually interpreted as him knowing that he's going to die, and you can see it. He visibly looks/sounds lost, somber, etc. He never really had much to hide around Light to begin with (since he doesn't really care about hiding himself the same way Light does) but especially not now and it Shows, and I personally thought it was pretty cool to delve into his thoughts/show how he feels this way. The somberness can be felt throughout the entire scene, even people who don't already know the plot of Death Note from the manga could probably tell that he's about to die.

In the manga, once L starts suspecting Misa again and Rem realizes what Light is trying to do, it goes straight to Watari and L's deaths, but the anime instead gives a distinct and unexpected pause in the middle of this where L contemplates his own death. It's fucking great, and the shift from straight action to slower emotional weight makes these scenes stand out a lot, since, like I said, the show usually focuses more on the former. But it's kind of ironic, too.

Not only does the anime open up L's feelings more in these scenes, but it also tries to dig deeper into Light's feelings as well through L. And it's really funny honestly because while, yes, these are the more "emotionally open" scenes of the anime Light still manages to be Incredibly avoidant and contribute almost nothing to the entire ordeal.

L is visibly upset -> "Yeah Ryuzaki, you're not making any sense at all" (Not addressing the obvious conflict from L)

"Tell me, Light. From the moment you were born, has there ever been a point where you've actually told the truth?" -> "[The most stale, over-explained, avoidant answer to a "yes/no" question that you could ever hear + blatant attempts to reframe the question]"

(L's half-smile here kills me) "I had a feeling you'd say something like that" -> [Nothing]

"I'm sorry" -> [Nothing]

"It'll be lonely won't it? You and I will be parting ways soon" -> [Nothing]

^ From this point Light continues to say literally Nothing for the rest of the scene. I'm not even joking, from then on the rest of Light's voicelines are reduced to nothing but vague noises of confusion.

Everytime L calls Light out as a person ("Has there ever been a point where you've actually told the truth?" / "I had a feeling you'd say something like that." / "Won't it be lonely?") he doesn't actually acknowledge anything. Out of those three lines, he only answers verbally to if he's ever told the truth, and even then it's the most blatantly people-pleasing answer ever, as it usually is with Light. And I don't think it's because Light just. Doesn't care about any of what L's saying at all, or that he doesn't know what the hell he's talking about (questioning Light's authenticity as a person, saying it would be lonely when they part), instead he's choosing not to acknowledge any of what this means about himself or him and L at all. He's like a fucking wall.

And like, for the truth question in particular, the show makes sure that you know it's not something that Light just. Doesn't care enough about to answer. The hard cuts to silence are a very rare but extremely effective way that the show conveys an extremely important moment (see: Light regaining his memories, Matsuda noticing Light opening the warehouse door before he escapes (not as much of a "direct" cut to silence but still)), and cuts to multiple angles/framings/zooms of the exact same shot are also used for the same purpose (see: Light hugging Misa when she was crying, Matsuda aiming his gun to shoot Light, Light regaining his memories Again). Just like the scene where Light gets his memories back, the moment L's question finishes the show utilizes both. That question cut Deep. There's is a solid Almost 5 seconds of silence before the sound of the rain gradually starts fading back in, and honestly that should be telling enough as is (but of course Light doesn't actually admit that. Or anything at all really, so). Oh also another fun detail! We do not see Light's face At All (except for the shot where you can see his mouth moving but not his eyes), for the Entire time that he's going on his spiel to L. We Will Be Revisiting This Later, by the way. This is not, in fact, the first time you're going to see this detail from Light.

The only sort of reciprocation that we see from Light during Any of these two scenes is when Light dries L's hair while L dries his feet. Biblical meanings/references aside it's interesting because it's the only time he directly does anything "for" L in these scenes, but even then he doesn't try to pass it off as anything meaningful really the same way L does ("You're still soaked", a purely neutral and factual statement. It doesn't Add Anything compared to L's. Sin atonement loneliness grieving stuff. While Light is showing his own reciprocation to this more personal moment he also tries to keep it impersonal enough that it doesn't actually have to mean anything deep). And when L says "I'm sorry" after he once again gets no response from Light. It's also after this that L gets that pained look on his face, like he knows that at this point he's not actually going to get anything meaningful from Light (again, very significant and rare from L in the show. We've seen him in distress (see: when Ukita died, hell, when Watari dies), but even then he mostly manages to keep his usually neutral expression), we never see him "look sad" like he does here):

I just think it's interesting that this is one of the few scenes in this particular adaptation of Death Note where they try to open up the character's thoughts/feeling (especially considering the fact that they. lowkey blunder in adaptations of original scenes from the manga), and L himself is being rather open (not that he ever really tries to hide what he thinks nearly as much as Light), and yet all Light contributes to it in return is like. Actually nothing. Bro fumbled it. There is no resolution to any of this, to any of what L asks at all, to any of the many opportunities for a meaningful conversation, and the only thing even relatively close to an answer that you can get from Light is what you can infer from how he acts in the episode after L dies, where he's just going through the motions, but hardly acting as if he's actually living at all.

(Honestly I think the transition from this scene with the taskforce to the subsequent scene with Misa says enough on its own. Light's expressions and tone says everything:)

(Oh sidenote but. This shit again:

"Light, this is our first date in forever. can't you enjoy yourself a little more?" ('Why don't you seem happy? We can finally be together since L is dead') -> No response, Light instead changing the topic to him wanting to move in with Misa without changing his mannerisms at all

Also there's that one detail again. You pretty much don't see Light's expression when he speaks here at all, except for one shot of his eyes, which is quite literally the exact same shot they used when he "saw" L, just altered for the new setting. You have No idea what he looks like when he's responding to Misa, although it's probably fair to assume that it's the same empty stare he has for the whole Two Shots where you can clearly see his whole expression in the entire scene.

Something something Light Yagami bad at feelings I think you get the point though)

I guess Light's Kind of showing what he's feeling now? He'll admit to himself that it's boring without L, but no more than that. Light never actually admits to anything "significant", and L's dead already anyway, so what would that even do?

And then we get, uh. Basically nothing from Light. For the next 5 Years. Except that he joined the NPA, so, uh, yay? Good job, Light you totally nailed it! Thank you for allowing us as an audience to delve deeper into your inner thoughts and feelings as a character so we can find out more about you as a person! Very helpful! Thank you for not sabotaging one of your few dedicated opportunities to look into yourself as a person and reflect on your relationships with others and being 100% honest with yourself! We stay winning guys.

Anyway, this got way too long for a scene that's over a decade old, and I've probably just said everything that everyone else has already said in this fandom before. But unfortunately this has been living in my head for way too long and I must scream. I just think this episode's neat is all :)

tl;dr Part of the reason why the rain/foot scene (tbh episode 25 in General) stands out so much is because the Death Note anime specifically was a bit robbed in terms of its more emotional character moments compared to the other medias, which makes more somber/introspective scenes like the ones in episode 25 stand out a Lot in comparison. But it's also incredibly ironic because it's one of the few moments where the show (or specifically L) tries to look deeper into Light's character, but because he is so avoidant for the entire duration of these two scenes he adds basically nothing at all. It's almost funny. Mostly sad. It's also very gay. Aand post

Okay actually nevermind one more thing I talked about how the jdrama is supposed to be more emotionally in-depth because it is a TV Drama and just for the record, same thing happens there! I could probably do an entire analysis of the Blue Scene in this context like I did with episode 25 but I'd literally be here forever, so uh, just take this iconic line as my main example:

Same Thing. L's statement "I wish we could have met some other way" is personal. It's his own wish, his own regret that he is expressing to Light. While Light's reply obviously has that same regret implied it's also phrased in a specifically impersonal way. It's closed off. "This is the only way we could have met" it closes off the topic and simply renders L's wish as ultimately futile. Light does not say that he Also wishes he could have met L a different way even if it was likely impossible, instead it's a cold statement of cynical fact.

Idk just. Something something L being able and Willing to be more openly sentimental/emotionally open towards Light/about Light vs. Light's inability to be honest with anyone including himself and his own nature preventing any form of meaningful reciprocation. Something something self-sabotage, y'know the drill. God don't even get me Started on how sincere L's tone is when he says "It'll be lonely won't it?"(at least in the eng dub) in the anime I could talk about his tone in that scene for ages. Also yes all of this relates to L Change the WorLd too by the way. Don't ask how it just does okay.

I do think that scenes like these (rain/foot scene, The Blue Scene. Uh. L Change the WorLd The Novel Adaptation) show, at least in those adaptations, that L does genuinely care for Light, and show that he values him as a friend not just in the mindgame-equal sense but also just like, a more sincere sense you know. Idk if that made any sense and that's a whole other topic for another day but you guys just have to believe me on this one alright please please believe me buries head in hands. Okay post over finally thanks for coming to my tedtalk hope you enjoyed my very-unnecessarily long analysis of the week

[hoofpeet]

I'd probably have to read the printed version and web version back to back at some point to note all the differences but... ough

[flowerakatsuka]

[ messy ass sprite edit ] youkai au, but if it was cooler & sexier ( aka they let these losers have anything besides their fuck ass bowl cuts. )

[longer-than-i-should-admit]

Okay so here it is. Had to work through my emotions first so I've found my equilibrium.

I really liked how Neve's narrative turned out as a whole. I didn't expect to get along with her because she seemed kind of cold at first but honestly? She's for the girlies. I love her. So warm once you get to know her. She's such a bestie, comparative to Leliana in DAO imo

The section I was missing was in the Heights of Athim where the well is. Killed the demon, found the chests, got the last of the statues. I didn't expect to get that achievement so I was quite proud of myself.

I didn't 100% everywhere, I'll probably try to do that next run tbh. By that point I just wanted to see what happened, and...oh boy.

I was honestly 100% happy with the game 'til I got to the third act. Now that I've stewed on it I'll confidently say it's only dropped to 90%, but that's only because I'm of the rather rose-tinted persuasion of despising even "necessary" or "worthy" character deaths. I was NOT expecting to have Davrin die (which...Lace is the alternative? my heart!). Him AND Assan, too? After everything? I know that's the whole point of sacrifice, "whatever it takes", but...idk, it just didn't sit right with me. It felt squandered. But I know that's just my opinion.

And, speaking of squandered...Varric. I'd had the gut feeling that there was more to his situation than he was letting on, especially given Solas’ little "[he] is...quite practiced at shading the truth himself", so I was thinking "oh the only reason he survived was that he got tied to the Lighthouse's energy somehow and can't leave" or “he had a reaction to the dagger like Lace did just slightly different” or smth, but the longer the game went on the more details I noticed. Lace's reaction in the start confused me. There were just enough references to him throughout to mollify my suspicions, but then I got the codex about Xenon trying to buy Bianca and Lace almost gutting him for it. Also no one ever looked at him during the table meetings, and in the scenes he spoke to Rook he waited 'til everyone else left. That all was adding up, especially when I realized that Neve had healed completely, yet Varric was still as weak as he was at first with the casts and bandages and getting tired.

So. It didn't really surprise me when I got to the Fade mission and found out the truth, but...it still upset me. I know he's been in BW's sights for a long time but I hoped he would be the one character to make it out unscathed tbh. So I accepted it, thinking that it must be worth something, that once Rook brings it up to Solas it would help to persuade him, but...nothing. The companion banter in Minrathous didn't trigger for me, so other than Rook initially confronting Solas about it I didn't get any sense of lingering remorse from Solas, which I felt was out of character for him, especially given the circumstances. (I saw Lace's dressing down later, which helped me resolve it all in my mind. It doesn't fix the fact that no one really talks about it very much, but it made me feel a little better hearing Solas say he was sorry. Really sorry.) Ultimately I felt that it was a bit cheap overall since even the Inquisitor doesn't really bring it up, so I'll be discarding that in my AU. No thanks, BW. I want my bestest dwarf intact, thank you. Moving on.

Now, the rest of Solas in the third act? *chef's kiss* Did not see him leaving us in the Fade coming at all, especially since I got the "you have earned the respect of the dread wolf " message. In retrospect I should have expected it, but I guess I forgot I was looking at him through Rook’s eyes, whom he doesn’t know, and not as "me" (who I guess I associate with the Inquisitor more atm, ironically), so it makes sense that he still doesn't necessarily trust her and was manipulating her. The blood magic thing got me, too. And what fooled me was how concerned he genuinely seemed before, like after Weisshaupt, especially when he distracted Elgarn'nan on our behalf. So it fits him, and it gave me the good moment of like "fuck you. that was clever, Dread Wolf, you got me. but fuck you."

Fade mission was the closest I got to crying the whole game. Well written, most definitely. Still don't like the character deaths but c'est la vie. Not that big of a deal since I've seen that others appreciate the stakes being so high and there actually having to be that choice. To each their own. (I'll be changing it in my fic eventually regardless lol)

Emmrich's romance got me dude. The little argument before the island genuinely had me so worried, and then them making up once she escaped the Fade? *chef's kiss* The coffin slew me on sight though lol, it was so funny to me. He's so sweet I love him so much I swear. Definitely already a favorite and I haven't even experienced the others yet lol (Lucanis will be next, for whom I am so excited)

Minrathous was crazy. I believed Solas that time, too, so caught up in his sad little puppy dog eyes. I even noticed the "by my hand" comment and thought about it and then just dismissed it like "whatever you say king I am at your disposal". Woof. Getting to fight with him again, especially at full power, was so...well, empowering. Like I said, I didn't get the banter (since I had Lace and Emmrich with me), so it felt a little empty. I'll make sure to wait for it next time. (AND I SO CALLED IT THAT HE AND EMMRICH WOULD GET ALONG. WHERE ARE THE FICS OF THEM GETTING TO INTERACT, HUH? W H E R E)

I'm so glad Bellara turned out okay, I didn't think I could handle losing her, too. And Enaste in the middle of it all? Poor baby. I wanted to hug her so bad. Morrigan calling her out was funny though ngl

I got the rune of Felassan from the Caretaker, but I had really hoped that the spirit would have some sort of greater impact on the narrative, like appealing to Solas on our behalf for our help in the Crossroads/for the spirits, or with the rune actually summoning some spirits to help fight Elgar'nan like it sounded when the caretaker described it. A little thing, perhaps, but I thought for sure the Caretaker would have a greater narrative impact than that.

And boy. Oh boy. Getting to see the Dread Wolf was something. Big boy. Big pupper. That was so badass.

By the time I fought Elgar’nan I had mostly gotten the hang of the combat so it wasn’t too bad. I really like him and Ghil as villains overall. Just the right balance of real tangible threat and silly evils.

Oh and Solas clinging to his duty right until the end? I was so scared I wouldn’t be able to convince him when I first saw the trick or fight options, but then I realized I got the good ending from Mythal’s essence and I was so relieved. And boy? Let me tell you.

That entire scene had me almost in tears. It was so good. The angles and the lighting and the voice acting and the interactions and...everything. It was everything I wanted. So heartfelt and brought such good closure. And Lavellan getting to be with him in the end is actual perfection.

So, overall, I'd say I am mostly satisfied with the game personally. It was a product of a decade of ups and downs and while it is by no means perfect, I am so grateful to have had the chance to find "canon" closure and experience this game (mostly) spoiler free the first time. To me the world building we were afforded feels more like cherries put on top of the cake that was already there rather than baking something new, although there are of course some completely understandable nitpicks I have seen other people make. However, for what it is, and where it leaves us, I am content. Even if they don't make another game, I'm glad we got this one.

Anywho...I have already started my second playthrough with my Mournwatcher rook and have already started tweaking my AU/fics to accommodate the new information we got. :)

Thirteen (point six) hours in now that it’s finally downloaded…I tired…I’ve been up since seven am lol, it’s so much better than I expected!🥰

I’ll post better images once I figure out where in the hell my screenshot folder is but my baby Fenalan turned out so so gorgeous oml🥹

Spoilers mentioned under the cut:

I’m so glad Varric is okay. He gave Fenalan a little pep talk when she cracked under the pressure a bit so she’s doing her best to hold it together for the team. She left the mayor bc he’s a shithead and she’s generally been rather purple-coded, as I thought.

She has also given Solas a hard time at first, as planned. I wasn’t expecting him to clap back like he did in that second scene lol, but now that Varric has given her more insight into Solas’ personality she’ll be more cooperative going forward (while still being a lil shit of course).

God I know I’m waiting to romance Lucanis for Khalida but I understand why people are so I love with him. He went grocery shopping for them🥹and the delight in his voice when Fenalan got him the wyvern tooth dagger? Oh my lanta, my heart. And the fact that he noted her favorite drink being tea? That slew me on the spot. By god I am going to smooch you so hard next time. Get ready for it. (Rn he and Neve are flirting up a storm and it’s so damn cute I want to die.)

Honestly all the companion missions so far have been so sincere and sweet. I can’t wait to see more! I’m starting to get all the little side missions branching out so I’m trying not to get overwhelmed with them all by taking them one at a time. I think I’ll tackle more of arlathan forest first thing tomorrow.

I unlocked the memory where Solas fights Elgar’nan, so is the elf who was with him Felassan? I’m assuming it’s Felassan. And if that’s Felassan I am going to cry bc he seems so nice and outgoing.

Also who summoned the fish in the Lighthouse? (I think it was Felassan lol, he seems like an agent of chaos. The “you summoned them, you’ll have to feed them” line took me out.)

I’m mentally cataloguing all the little differences I’ll be making with Khalida, who is more of the soft-spoken, shy, diplomatic type. Her favorite drink will be the “something sweeter” option, she’ll have supported Varric’s plan, and she’ll be more open to Solas’ input off the bat once she gets over her initial fright of him. She’s such a sweet little thing and Lucanis is going to be an utter disaster with her since she’s a bit oblivious lol

God idk if I’m going to be able to sleep after all this but hey, here’s to trying lol

On nydha, lethal’len!🥰

[merlins-strawberriesandroses]

TO be honest. I don’t understand what it means when people say Merlin was Arthur’s bane. Mayhaps I misunderstand but. Arthur was a bit of an assassination magnet (not to mention all those magical creatures and bandits... so many bandits), and Merlin actively prevented Arthur's death for years, which would have occured without him anway in the very first episode. I can see why one might argue that Merlin was just delaying the inevitable, or that he didn't succeed in keeping Arthur safe until Arthur could enact the golden age, but certainly I don’t see how he could have been Arthur’s bane.

Also, it’s implied in the last episode that the golden age does occur, but under Guinevere. Which makes sense as she knew Merlin was the sorcerer and that she was pleased about it (and I recall it was confirmed in interviews), so I also don’t follow the twin train of thought that Merlin was his own bane or even Camelot’s. Camelot was already bane-d(?) under Uther. But partly because of Merlin's steady friendship, Arthur matured into a king who was kinder than his father. He also actively sought magic's aid on multiple occasions, so he knew magic had potential for good (like healing his queen) without Merlin needing to tell him about his magic.

I don't think it's fair to say Camelot's laws on magic remaining relatively static was because no one close to Arthur came out as having magic. There was still much risk in that, and for Merlin a lot at stake, not just his life. A law change was still possible (and almost seemed to be set up that way) without Arthur needing someone he was personally close to having to do the work to humanize it for him (in the sense that the episodes with the druids, the druid boy with Elyan, and the dolma seemed like they were pointing to a law change because Arthur sees the diversity of magic and those who have it).

At worst Merlin’s efforts didn’t change the status quo, but we do have things indicating that they did. And Merlin was not single-mindedly serving Arthur at the expense of everyone else. He saved Camelot as a whole multiple times. He was also very willing to stick out his neck for many others even during the height of his anxiety and agitation in season 5. (Also only being slightly silly when I say this, but he was also THE wingman for Arthur when he was getting with Gwen, so in a way Merlin’s help led to their courting being a success and thus contributed to her being in a great position to change the laws. so personally I give points to Merlin for that). Most of the decisions centering Arthur's safety seemed to stem from the fear that Albion would crumble before it began if Arthur were to die, so he tried his best to prevent that from happening in any way he knew. (Like, when Arthur is dying, Merlin asks "So I failed?" regarding the whole golden age thing, which I think is telling that the prophesy and his role in it was still VERY much at the forefront of Merlin's mind).

And this is a digression but I know people think Merlin should have done more for Camelot, or for folks with magic (like, as a revolutionary or something akin), which I understand but no one reached out to network with him really? It'd require resources, people (always confused why there weren't a whole bunch more folks offering Merlin material/intellectual/emotional support if they thought he should be the one to bring about the golden age. all he was told was that the forseen way it actually happens succesfully is through Arthur), time (I doubt it’d have been much of a ‘quicker’ way necessarily), and incredible planning + foresight if it's meant to be something that works out effectively + long-term. Okay I think I've digressed enough now. This is a whole seperate thought that I don't think I'm gonna do any justice here lol, and I'm already rambling, so I'll stop now :,)

But anyway, in terms of being his own or Arthur’s bane, we know Arthur will return, and we don’t know how Merlin spent his years. His magic can play with time and maybe he learns how to control that, or he could have entered a stasis like in various legends, etc etc etc. And I mean it is tragic on many levels, and it’s sad we didn’t see Arthur’s arc completed, and that Merlin sacrificed so much for a goal that didn't get much acknowledgment by the show at the end, but still. I don’t think Merlin was Arthur’s bane, or Camelot’s, or his own.

[mickeytheticklee]

MICKEYY YOUR TICKLE FICS ARE SO ADDICTIVE OMG. AND SINCE BOTH OF US ARE IN A RENEÉ RAPP ERA RN?! I BEG IF UR GONNA BE ACTIVE WRITE FOR LER!REGINA AND LEE!Y/N (THAT FIC MADE ME BLUSH SO MUCH😭😭)

I have been summoned for more fics (not rlly I'm bored)

You're like in love with me

Pairing: Ler!Regina George x Lee!Reader

Summary: Regina is randomly in a lee mood while being on her period

Warning: Tickles, mouth tickles, Regina being soft and clingy, my bad writing I should add

An: Anyone who's reading this deserves to be tickled by a mean girl who's secretly a soft lee

You play well to the act of people thinking you're the one obsessed with Regina. Behind closed doors it's another story.

It was a late Friday night. You two were bundled up in her thick sheets, watching cartoons during the night hour. Regina wasn't really into cartoons, she rather watch and disect any Real Housewives series, seeing which Housewife she can relate to. She said yes only for you, only because she had a habit of never saying no to you. She can say no to anyone if they were caught using her stuff, even Gretchen. Yet you ask and all she does is roll her eyes and say fine.

Regina was going to have a night out with her friends, partying and seeing which high school football player she might snatch next. But unexpectedly she started her period, so those plans were immediately thrown out the window. Regina isolates herself on her period, she rather eat spiders than let everyone see her in baggy sweats and no makeup. You knew she looked beautiful even on her rough days, you made sure to text her that whenever her self esteem was declining. Which explains why she'd invite her tonight, being vulnerable enough to snuggle next to her, caressing her hair after buying her chocolates and fixing up a cup of tea.

Regina was resting your head on your lap, her hand fitting perfectly under your shirt for warmth. Your lee demeanor was off so it didn't tickle. Although you wish it did by how pointy her nails were and how close it was pointing your skin. You ignored any tickle thoughts you had for tonight, knowing it wasn't right with Regina physically being in pain from the period cramps. She got up, immediately you were in your overprotective mode, asking if she needed anything or if her cramps were coming back.

“Babe what's wrong? Do you need your heating pad?", You ask, holding her waist in making sure she sits back down. She whines, which is the first. You thought Regina might be groggy from the tea or from the boring cartoons. Thinking it was her becoming tired she gets closer to your face, giving it tiny pecks until she reaches your neck. She straddles your waist, kissing your neck until you give in to the ticklish sensations. You were holding yourself together with how tense your body became. You let out a few respectable snickers, but those quickly turn into giggles by how her fingers started scribbling around your side.

“Babe let go- hehhehhHAHAHAHAHA!!", Even on her period she was strong, trapping you in her arms with side and back scribbles while still kissing your ticklish neck. You push away, not too much since you were secretly loving her tickles. But you needed her to stop so she can focus on resting.

“I'm serious babe you need to get some rest and try not to move so much."

“But I wanna give you tickles.", Regina says, her voice softening. It wasn't rare to see Regina in her clingy side. When she's on her period it's like a different persona overtakes her mean girl complex. Of course she's needy with you now but during these times she wants extra attention and extra love. Both you didn't mind, despite her barely being affectionate the height difference makes the hugs ten times bettee. But you've never seen her this clingy to where she's begging to tickle you.

“You can tickle me once you feel better.", You say but Regina is not listening. She sits her head on your tummy, drawing circles and pouting that she couldn't tickle you. She felt every twitch on your stomach towards every circle and star drawing she was making. You were holding back your laughter hard, inches close to just freely laughing and her taking the lead of all the tickles. But again, this night was about Regina, not you.

Yet her hand makes it away under your shirt, being sneaky and having her finger in your bellybutton. This time you did laugh, kicking your feet a bit and not making any sudden movement to your upper body. Regina may have been facing the TV but you can feel her smirking at you.

“Your belly is so warm, like a heating pad.", Regina says, continue to rest her head on it, the little hairs that sticks out tickling your stomach. Her hair was in a messy bun, probably even messier as she's been laying down the past few hours.

“Babe, why do you wanna tickle me so bad?", You say, trying to stop Regina's hands from creeping up on your sides again.

“Can't I reward my girl for taking such good care of me?", She looks at you with the up most smile. A natural adorable smile, not the fake smile she uses whenever she's with the plastics.

“You can't wait until tomorrow where you'll feel better?", You say, pouting back.

She sits back up, getting centimeters close to your face. You can feel the pink rush thru your cheeks over the intense moment. She was hating that I was denying her tickling me and had to use her flirting skills to the test. “You know what I'm craving right now? A delicious tummy with a side of ribs and raspberries. May even want your toes too. Now, care to be a good darling and lift up your shirt for me?", Regina's voice so hypnotizing you do exactly what she says. You slowly lift up your shirt, giving her access to a range of spots that she immediately puts her lips on.

“Be careful with the RIBS HAHAHAHAHAH!!", You laugh, but not too loudly, it's mostly squeaky laughter over the mixture of soft tickling and evil teases. She was nibbling at your ribs, not too hard, Regina isn't the type to be extremely hard to your spots. You were laughing, not necessary caring about the volume of the TV. You weren't squirming that excessively, you were afraid it bothered Regina by how uncontrollable your body was when being tickled. She then squeezed your tummy like a stress ball, making you scream with laughter and your legs kicking up in the air in a cartoonish way.

“HAHAGAGAHAHHAHHA!!"

You stopped to look at her, feeling bad for the extra kicking that shook the bed. “Sorry.", You apologize but Regina lays on her side, admiring your ticklish self.

“Its okay baby you don't have to apologize, it's cute what my tickling can do to you.", Regina says, stroking your hand. She brings her closer, still tickling your tummy while trying to figure out the plot for whatever cartoon you two are watching. You both weren't focusing, Regina was busy from watching you turn into putty from all the tummy tickles. You were too ticklish to focus on how the show might end.

“I think- I think heheghhehehe...", You keep trying to form a thought but the tickles keep fogging your mind. You were speaking in giggles as Regina nods, thinking she understands what you're saying. Acting like she wasn't scribbling all over your tummy and poking your ribs.

“Yea? So what happened next?", Regina asks, interested in what you were giggling out. When it was over and you finally had a thought about the show she surely again was tickling your tummy, squishing it like a stress ball almost. Like those ASMR slime videos. Your legs kicked back up in the air with screeches filling up the bedroom walls. Once the squishy tickles were finished your legs return back down, but once back up again as she continues them to tease you.

“This is so satisfying, I can feel my cramps going away.", You however might gain cramps for the amount of laughing done. She stops again, calming you down with pecks and tummy rubs. You kiss her, thanking her for the unpredictable tickles that came of tonight. You bring her back to the covers, bringing her back to your chest so she can sleep, even if you were the exhausted one from the tickling.

“Gosh, you're like in love with me aren't you?"

“Shut up."

[transmascutena]

Good evening (or morning, depending on your timezone).

Absolutely no hate, but I want to ask how you reconcile your enjoyment of the show with the reality of what Ikuhara has (most likely) done?/gen

I understand Death of the Author, but what drew me to Utena in the first place was its theme of critiquing the patriarchy and calling out abuse, which feels somewhat hypocritical now. I resonate with this show, and many of Ikuhara's other shows, on a personal level, which is why I am especially disappointed with the accusations since I now have to wonder how that reflects onto me as a person...?

Obviously I don't know you personally, but you seem to spend a lot of time and care on your analyses (which are great btw) so have you also struggled with this?

Again, there is like zero judgement when I say this and I'm absolutely not trying to come off as hostile (in case that is how this reads). And, there is no pressure on you to answer this and I'll completely understand if you want to ignore the ask.

Thanks.

hi, i've been thinking about this as well since yesterday, and it is kind of tough to figure out how to feel about. i think it's important to remember that ikuhara did not make revolutionary girl utena alone, for one. he had a whole team of writers and animators and producers and so on, that it would not exist without. obviously ikuhara played a big part in the show's creation, but far from the only one (if it was, i have no doubt it would be very very different), and . idk what my point really is here but i don't think his actions reflect on the show as a whole. it still is what it is, it still says the same important things about our society's systems of abuse that we've always talked about, even if the director didn't understand it or didn't want to understand it or however you want to put it. and by extension i don't think it reflects on to all the people who have enjoyed the show, who have seen their experiences in it, who have learned from it more about how this kind of abuse works and so on. and i think we need to be aware of what has (allegedly, but again, i believe it) happened, but i don't necessarily think we need to write off the show just because he had a hand in making it. because it is just as important as we've always known it to be, you know? though i think there are (as there has always been and there always is in anything) elements of the show to be critical of, and maybe some new things as well in light of this. i'll have to think about it more.

[silusvesuius]

n*loth not being able to bag anyone over the (human term) age of 25-30 at most is the only logical and real conclusion to me because it can be just explained away as him wanting to prove and control everything and anyone (Cus he's a man!) but being stuck in that demographic because his unbearable and vile personality is a force that nobody can look past once they've outgrown the possible fear and idolization period of anyone but also n*loth in particular.

[tunaf1sk]

In my restless dreams, I see that town. Flordaddle.