#Let me say the weapons these Canon puppets are holding

[jeankluv]

The prophecy - Gojo Satoru

summary: Gojo Satoru knew he was the strongest, he perfectly knew. But that didn’t mean he didn’t cry and that night while everyone still preparing to fight Sukuna, he cried. He cried because he felt completely alone and only seen as a weapon

paring: Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

tags: angst, canon universe, manga spoilers, Gojo centric, lyrics, fluff, mutual feeling, no use of y/n, Gojo thinks reader hates him, open up for a second part.

note: i wrote this some time ago and never actually posted, everything i have to say is that I love Gojo Satoru so much and i miss him like crazy. If y’all like it I could write a second part and explore more about this pair, but this part is mainly focused on Gojo’s character

words: 1,7k

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist | part 2

“I’ve been on my knees, change the prophecy”

Gojo Satoru only cried four times in his life. The first time he was 5 years old and he wanted to learn to ride a bicycle, but he fell to his knees and bled. The elders of the clan and his parents always told him that he should not cry and that he should be strong, but that day when he got to his room he cried hugging his favorite puppet. 

The second time was when he was 17 years old, Suguru had left and he didn't understand why, again he cried alone in his room wondering if he could have done more for the one who was once his best friend. 

The third time he was 27 years old, it was after killing Suguru, he stood there statically looking at the lifeless body of his old friend and let the tears run down his cheeks. 

The last time was now, when he was 29 years old. And once again he was alone.

He always wondered if his whole life was already written, if there was a prophecy that said that he who possessed six eyes and limitless was destined to always be alone. That was the burden he had to bear for being “the strongest.” 

He wondered if he would be able to change jujutsu society and thus change everything. That if someone in 100, 300 or who knows when had the same powers as him again, they would not have to be alone, that they would not have all that burden from the moment of birth.

Satoru was born with a price on his head, he was used by the higher ups since he was 15 and now he was facing what could be his last battle and ironically if he died they will continue to use him as what they have always made him believe he is. A weapon.

Satoru did not mind dedicating his life to exorcising curses, in fact he liked it and they satisfied him, especially if they were of a high level. But he wanted to stop being alone, he wanted to stop being seen as the strongest, as a weapon to use.

When the idea was proposed to him, the first thing he thought about was what would happen to Yuta. He knew that Yuta could only replicate the techniques for 5 minutes and then he lost them. In the best case scenario, he would return to his original body, right? The second thing he thought was that it wouldn't be necessary, and he was prepared to beat Sukuna, he wasn't going to lose. And the last thing he thought was that he would once again be used.

Now there he was in his room, alone, crying because he just didn’t feel like anyone really cared about him. Why didn’t Shoko object? Why didn’t anyone object to the idea? 

He sighed and throw himself to the bed, looking up to the ceiling of his bedroom, preventing his tears from falling down. 

“Don’t want money, just someone who wants my company”

The door opened letting in light from the hallway, Satoru did not move, he knew the cursed energy immediately. He let you come in and sit on the bed a little away from him.

“I think it’s an awful and dehumanizing plan.” You said.

Satoru chuckled, holding his tears, the room was dark but still he didn’t want you to see him crying. “Can’t believe you are the one standing for me.”

“Don’t get over your head Gojo and besides one of your kids, Yuta also stood for you.” You said. “And I’m pretty sure Shoko hates the idea but believes in you more than anyone else.”

“Really?” He whisked.

“You don’t think like that?” 

“Well…” He sighed. “After feeling all my life used as a weapon by this cracked society, I wasn’t surprised if people were willing to use me as a weapon even after my death.” 

You fell silent, processing Satoru’s words. “Satoru…” He hummed. “You feel lonely?” 

Satoru turned his face towards you, thanks to his six eyes he was able to see you clearly. And why were you crying? You off all the people? You who hated his guts? Why?

“Why are you crying?” Satoru inquired and you wiped your tears away.

“I’m not crying and besides it’s dark you can’t know.”

“I have the six eyes, I see everything.” 

“I doubt…” You whispered.

“What?” Satoru stood up and moved closer to you.

“Nothing.” You tried to avoid him. “Do you like plan B? Be honest.” 

“To be honest, I don’t know.” He sighed. “If I lose… that might be the only way to kill Sukuna and bring Megumi back but I’m worried about Yuta, it would be awful for him to get stock on this body, although I’m pretty handsome.”

“You are not serious.”

Satoru chuckled. “But for real, if that’s the only way… then it’s okay.”

“But it’s not.” You said. “You want to be used as a puppet? As a weapon?!” 

Why were you so sad? So angry?

“All my life it’s been like that, it’s like a prophecy and maybe if I let them use me one more time maybe I can redo that prophecy, so no one else has to go through what I, we went as kids.” 

You stood up from the bed and walked away from it. “I hate you…” You whispered but still Satoru was able to hear you.

“I know you always say how…”

“No.” You shook your head next to the window. “For you to have the six eyes, you’re pretty blind you know?” You chuckled. “You once said that you had the theory that love is the most twisted curse right? Well you were right.” You laughed. “Love really consumes you, especially when the person you love won’t look at you the way you want them to look at you.”

Satoru's heart started to rise with each one of the words you were speaking. He was still confused and overwhelmed by what you were saying.

“It’s funny right?” You said once again. “I’m such a coward and selfish person, silent for over 10 years and now that you are about to face the greatest threat of your life I’m here, making everything about me and my feelings.” You look down. “Please Satoru, let someone assist you during the fight, let me assist you.” You were on the edge of tears. “I’m also a special grade, my kitsune fire technique could help…”

“I work better alone.” He cut you off. 

A silence fell between you too and your nails dug into your palm, causing small wounds. “That’s what everyone has always told you.” You whispered. “But you don’t have to be alone. You don’t have to hold all that weight alone.” 

“Who do I have to speak to, about if they can redo the prophecy?”

Satoru took a deep breath and with a shaky voice, spoke. “I’m the strongest, it’s what I must do, so everyone is okay, so everyone can…”

“Stop with that Satoru! Stop…” You throw your hands to the air. “What about you? I don’t want you to die Satoru, I don’t want you to be used as a puppet.”

“Enough.” He said your name in a whisper. “The decision has been made, I don’t care.” He stood up and walked towards the door.

“You do care…” You whispered. “Because then why would you be crying here, alone?” You walked. “Hiding all your burdens, all your pain for just yourself. Why?” 

Satoru stopped himself and tried to catch his breath but it seemed like the room was running out of air. You walked to him and took his hand on yours and rested your forehead on his back.

“I’m here Satoru…” You whispered against his back.

You felt his grip tighten around your hand and you held onto him tightly as well, letting him know that you were there.

“What should I do?” He whispered.

You stayed silent for a moment and then spoke. “What if you do a binding vow? Just in case Sukuna…” You were unable to say those words.

“A binding vow…”

You nodded against his back. “I know that for it you need to give up something and you probably won’t want to give up what I’m about to suggest…”

“I will.” He turned to look at you. “You suggest that I give up the six eyes, to come back alive.” You nodded. “I will do it.” 

You felt like crying. “Good…” 

Satoru smirked and kissed your forehead. “Thank you…”

“I hope you don’t have to lose it…” You whispered. “I hope you kill Sukuna off and you come back to us, to me.” You whispered the last part.

Satoru hugged in a hug that almost hurt, but that you knew that the both of you needed. 

“It’s late, I should…” 

Satoru didn’t let you move. “Stay…” You froze, not sure what to say or what to do. “You said I never looked at you the way you wished, but…” Your heart started to pump in your chest, you could almost hear it in your ears. “Stay with me tonight, pretend like I’m yours for tonight and let me pretend like you are mine.”

You swallowed and hugged him back. “I don’t want to pretend.”

He giggled with a sad tone. “You will have to wait…” He whispered.

You thighed the grip, not wanting to let him go, afraid of him leaving. “Have you been sleeping?” You whispered.

Satoru shook his head. “Badly… really badly.” 

You caressed his back gently. "Try to sleep." You said and he responded humming. “I hope you can break that prophecy, Satoru.” You whispered and Satoru wrapped his arms around you tighter. 

Satoru hid his face on your neck and in silence he also hoped for that, he hoped to return alive and to be able to finally have someone besides him. To be loved and to be cherished. He hoped he didn’t have to beg anymore and no one else in the future needed to go through what he went through. 

That no was seen as a weapon for the Jujutsu world and their youth was never taken from them. 

Satoru Gojo just hoped for that, for the prophecy to stop, to break. To be happy with those he loved.

[bibibbon]

What gets me about seeing Yuuta and Maki again in the most recent JJK chapter is Yuji defending Yuuta's stint in Gojo's body to Maki and how he helped them in battle... like umm... isn't this OOC?

This is Yuuji Itadori we are talking about, Yuuji whose whole thing was about giving others a proper death so do you really think he would be happy with Yuuta desecrating Gojo's corpse and using him as a weapon? I certainly don't.

That whole scene felt like Gege pupeteering Yuuji while slapping the audience with "see Yuuji, despite not being told of the plan for Yuuta to puppet his beloved Sensei's corpse, was totally ok with it! Honest!"

An in character, Yuuji would have likely at least not said anything in defence of Yuuta while Maki verbally tore into him at least or at most joined in, but Gege can't have Yuuta looking bad at all 😒.

I know that this ask was posted around the time we had chapter 269 came out but here iam responding to this 4days after jjk has ended (sorry about that anon!).

I have read both the official and non official translations of chapter 269 specifically the bit with maki shouting at yuta and yuji.

Here is the unofficial translation 👇

And this is the viz manga translation 👇

One thing is that yuji never directly defends the decision of yuta taking over Gojo's body at all however, he does indirectly do that by saying thay 1) yuta's cursed item was able to hide yuji's fingers and 2) yuta did stop sukuna's second domain expansion from happening.

While these two things are true I agree with maki and think that they could of happend without yuta taking over gojo's body (i dont hate yuta but i hate the creative decsion) . I have said this before and I will say it again yuta taking over gojos body was a horrible creative decision rhay didn't benefit the storyline at all since yuta never receives any lasting consequences. A better idea would be to have kenjaku take over gojos body and this would still show the things like gojo satoru is the strongest because he is gojo, it would show that gojo is still being used as a puppet however, this would also allow for a much more emotional and anguished reaction from yuji who has the whole family thing going on (which is annoying since its never addressed in Canon properly) and from the other students.

I would say that I feel like all of the characters have lost what made them so special to me and what made them pop when it came to the last few chapters since like you said we never get to see yuji's reaction about gojo. We do see a glimpse of yuji's visibly distressed face in chapter 236 when gojo dies but we don't see his reaction to when yuta takes over gojos body while this is understandable that we don't see it during the fight since yuji can't cost to lose concentration we don't see his reaction even after the fight.

In the last chapter we do see a flashback conversation between gojo and yuji and ultimately I love gojo and yuji interactions so much, I love the vulnerability and the honesty in the conversation. I think it was a but of a lazy way but it wasn't a bad way for yuji to still hold onto his promise and let gojo's dream still live on, to let his legacy still live on. This whole thing parallels what yuji did with nanami in the end of the shibuya arc.

However, iam still pissed that we didn't get a proper confirmation of gojos death in a form of a funeral where he is properly mourned and burried. I think a scene like that would of been painfully ironic since it was supposed to be yuji in that coffin by the end of the series but its gojo and I think it would of been an interesting way to interpret yujis grandads words in a way where he did help people and in a way helped gojo die surrounded by people (this doesn't make sense I don't think)

Ultimately its a shame that we didn't get to see yuji distraught and verbally expressing his anger and grief over gojo's death. ACTUALLY IT PISSES ME OFF THAT WE DONT GET TO SEE ANYONE PROPERLY DISTRUAGHT (I hate it)

[mxtxfanatic]

If you don't mind answering, if you have the knowledge. Can you clarify something for me. I saw someone say that Wei Wuxian came back not quite human and that is why low level walking corpses are scared of him. I also saw someone post that he holds resentment energy in his body, which I think is incorrect but I am unsure.

Could you weigh in with your knowledge. Please and thank you 😊🙏!

I don’t mind at all! Those things you mentioned are popular fanon (which can be interesting if you want injected angst), but canon directly disproves these. Wei Wuxian came back a whole person with nothing denoting that there’s anything “not quite human” about him. Low-level corpses fear him because they do not have enough resentment to have the capability or desire to act as the weapons he needs, and this is something he knew about his cultivation from his first life. We are explicitly told this during the Mo Manor Arc:

He usually didn’t need complex incantations to control these corpse puppets—a straightforward command would do as well. The walking corpses in front of him moved a few quivering steps. But, as they approached Wei WuXian, their legs grew weak and they collapsed onto the ground, as if they were real humans.

Wei WuXian found it both funny and annoying. He clapped his hands again, this time lighter. However, these walking corpses were probably born in Mo Village and died here as well, not having experienced life fully. They instinctively followed the summoner’s commands, but were also horrified at the summoner, lying on the ground and afraid to get up.

The crueler the being was, the better Wei WuXian could control it. These walking corpses hadn’t been trained by him and couldn’t withstand direct manipulations from him. He didn’t have any materials on him, which meant that he couldn’t immediately make tools to ease the walking corpses. He couldn’t even muddle and assemble bits and pieces.

—Chapt. 5: Aggression, exr

…but this isn’t the only place in the story this is mentioned.

As for the other point: no Wei Wuxian does not hold resentful energy in his body; that is literally the antithesis to the core of his character—“letting go of resentments.” If he was capable of holding onto resentment and harnessing it as energy for his cultivation, he would have had no use for the Stygian tiger seal or the blood pool to imbue resentful energy into non-fierce-level corpses. In fact, if he could hold resentful energy in his own body, low-level corpses wouldn’t even have the chance to run from him if he truly needed their services. He could just turn them violent enough to become mindless killing machines.

[magnoliabutters]

• AS THE WORLD BURNS •

pairing: kas!vamp eddie munson x (she/her) reader

summary: the consequences of love are not always easy...

warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; canon divergence, season 4 spoilers, violence (vecna level), gore (blood), choking, angst/hate, near death scenarios, toxic/anti-hero relationship, y/n count: 1, etc.

word count: ~9.2k

reblogs, comments, & thoughts are so so shmo appreciated

• stories of eddie munson series • season two • previous part •

note: herro! it feels so good to post again! lots to unpack in this part and its quite long! i apologize if its a bit confusing with referring to some memories. as always, feel free to share your thoughts or ask any questions you may have! i did want to share that my characterization of vecna is probably on another level and die hard v-daddy fans may not enjoy this version - fair warning. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy!

Screams. Screams gargle out of your throat before you even notice. Your heart beats heavily within your chest. The pain shoots up your thigh and into your stomach, as well as down your entire right leg. Your hands push against his head fiercely. You are desperate to rip his teeth off your thigh. You feel his mouth latch harder onto your skin, causing a screech to escape your lips. The blood slowly trickles down your leg, an uncomfortable and nerve-wracking feeling. You scream, “Kas,” as you struggle against him. 

Your head shoots up, looking for something to help you - anything. You reach up to grab a baluster off the staircase. You pull as hard as you can in hopes of ripping it off the handrail. With eyes desperately searching for a weapon, your gaze falls upon Vecna. A sickening smile before you. His eyes completely fixated on Kas and his heavy bite against your thigh. Your stomach drops as you stare into the burned pile of flesh before you. He is enjoying this. It disgusts you. Anger slowly fills your body as you struggle against holding the wood above you. 

With a yell, you release all your undeniable anger. Your body tensing. Your muscles firm. You rip the baluster out from the stairs and drop it heavily against the back of Kas’ head. He shuffles back on his knees. A hand quickly pressing against the mark you made on his cranium. The blunt weapon falls from your hands as he releases his grasp on your thighs.

His eyes slowly raise to you. Those brown chocolate eyes now indiscernible. Red replaces his honey - his sweetness, his innocence. Another stab in the chest, reminding you that Eddie is no longer. You hope he found peace, and that you will see him soon. 

“You bitch,” Kas hisses out. “Fuck you,” you mutter with heavy annunciation on the f. Fueled with anger and pointing towards Vecna, you add, “Funny you’re calling me the bitch when you’re so clearly his. You’re a fucking puppet and a fucking disgrace to Eddie.” He stands up, a finger to your face, as his nostrils flare. 

His quick movements scare you as you wince in his presence. He steps forward in your space. You try to hold your ground, but you step back defensively. “Watch your mouth,” he demands. “Why? Aren’t you about to kill me? I’m going to do whatever the hell I want to do with my last moments,” you scream back. The anger now rings true throughout your body as you take a step forward.

Kas steps back, sucking his tongue to his teeth as a slow smirk appears on his right side. “You have no control here,” he says calmly. Your eyes squint with rage. “You don’t get to decide whether or not you speak before you die. I could just as easily bite off your tongue or rip away a chunk of your cheek,” he lists off as he runs a finger down your cheek bone. You pull away sharply, only making him smile more. “I’d like to see you try to speak then.” You breathe out heavily through your nostrils as you struggle to keep your body from shaking. You refuse to let him see the fear he causes within you. 

“Oh, and one more thing, darlin’,” he states. His index finger and thumb squeezing your chin as he pulls your attention back on him. You struggle to pull away, pain radiating across your jaw, but he holds you right where he wants you. “Eddie was the fucking disgrace. Everything he did and everyone he loved led to him being left to die on that floor,” he continues with a laugh. He takes another step forward, only a mere inch or two away from your face. “What disgrace? You couldn’t even save him. Where were you, huh?” he taunts. “Where were you when he was dying on that slab of concrete? Where were you when he was calling out for you, desperate to have you sit by his side as he left this world? Where were you when he was screaming your name-”

You slap him, hard, before you even knew it. The burning on your palm fuels the hate you feel so deeply within your heart. Kas is stunned before you. His hand retreating as it applies pressure against his face. Shock courses through your mind that he was seemingly bothered. You can barely see out of the tears piling within your eyes, but a part of you worries if you went too far. That very same part replays the unforgivable words spoken, and you are reminded of your hate.

“You disgusting bastard,” you mutter. “Why does it bother you SO much when I talk about him? Is it the constant reminder that, even though he’s gone, he is and always will be a better man than you? Is it because you know the love we had and how you’ll never have it?” A smirk suddenly falls upon your face. Your own eyes turning red, if they could. “Or is it because you know how much better he is at fucking me? That I faked it-“ 

Kas’ hand immediately rushes to your throat. You gasp, letting out your final breath. The pain is excruciating, but completely worth it. You give him a deep smile as you watch the anger flow into his eyes. “Do you ever stop talking?” he spits out through gritted teeth. “Fuck you, Munson,” you grumble out, twisting the knife in his side. He squeezes harder in retaliation and you immediately feel faint. You choke, heavily. Fear in your eyes as you feel the blood halting at your neck, disconnecting from your brain. 

You are going to die, but you already knew that. You haven’t said everything you needed to say. One last love note to beautiful Eddie before you see him again. 

And almost like a switch, Kas’ eyes widen at your reddened and horrified face. He pulls back his hand violently. You immediately collapse to your knees, choking out heaving breaths as your finger nails dig into the hardwood floor. 

Kas steps back, a traumatized look to his face. Never once has he felt regret. Never once has he experienced the fear that spreads like wildfire in his victims’ eyes. And he did this to YOU. The one person in this world that he doesn’t hate with every fiber of his being. Your words stung, hurt like a mother fucker, but he knew they were just words. He loves you, but you make him so angry. And he feels everything so deeply now - now that he knows. He regrets it. He regrets hurting you like that, despite having every intention to kill you at that very moment. 

“Kas, what did I say about playing with your food?” Vecna asks amusingly. His voice careless, as though he has better things to do. It pulls Kas out of his thoughts, which was his intention. You shoot your head towards him, giving him the deadliest stare you could muster. “I am not food, you fucked up burnt pile of shit,” you scream. You are tired of him, tired of him enjoying your death. There is no way in hell you would be letting anyone minimize your existence, certainly not this skinless fuck. 

Vecna’s eyes fall on you sharply. The muscles of his brow pulling together as his haunting stare consumes you. You gasp in response as your heart races. His hand slowly raises. With that, Kas’ face turns pale. He immediately turns to you, trying to push you out of the way, but it was too late. An invisible force floats you in the air. Your breath halts as you attempt to tremble, but you can’t even do that. Your arms are spread from your torso as your heels click together. Your eyes peer down at that horrible face, seeing nothing but absolute ruthlessness.

Kas watches a tear fall down your cheek as you struggle to grasp an understanding of what was occurring. His heart sinks as he watches you raise. He knows what happens after this. He usually enjoys the brutality, mentally taking notes, but as he watches you there, bright flashes wrack his head. 

He pins his chin to his shoulder as he receives painful glints of a blonde girl. He is brought back to the living room that will never be the same again. She floats above, just as you are now. He feels the fear, the terror envelope his body. An involuntary hand hits his chest. Screams, he is screaming. 

The girl he has known since the fourth grade is dying right above him, and he cannot do anything about it. She is the nicest girl, always has been. Anger, resentment, the need to have justice fills his soul. She did not deserve this. She was innocent, absolutely innocent. 

Like you… you didn’t deserve this. 

It did not matter how much you hurt him. How much you broke his heart. How much he despises your existence. How much regret he holds from saving your life that first night. You were innocent. He should have never brought you here. He should have left you alone. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Kas stands beside Vecna with eyes of horror. His widening gaze peering up at your body as he attempts to process the sight before him. You are conscious. Why is Vecna leaving you conscious? His eyelashes fluttering as tears well in them. What the fuck can he do? You pissed Vecna off, the god of this shithole. He is scared, horrified even. In the face of death, he suddenly realizes he can’t lose you. He won't lose you. 

But he is frozen, frozen with absolute fear. Upon seeing that memory, on top of the anger, resentment, and justice, he feels fear. Vecna destroyed such a precious life so viciously. What could he do with Kas’ meaningless life? He brought him back into the world. He could surely take him out of it. 

Vecna slowly walks up to you. His clawed hand almost encompassing your chest. His head tilts to the side as he watches your terrified eyes. “You are mine, little girl,” he whispers. You tremble as you struggle to bring your eyes to the deadened form below you. Your chin held up by the invisible force. Do you regret what you said? Hell no. This pile of uncured meat is the reason your entire life went upside down. 

“Fuck you,” you muster. 

Suddenly, you feel like your bones were lit on fire. An unbearable wound against your shin and knee. The pain is overwhelming. Enough that your body is so overloaded that you didn’t even notice you were screaming again. Screaming at the top of your lungs as you still struggle against a force holding you against nothing. 

Nerve endings wrack your skull. Your body falls in and out of consciousness. You try hard to let yourself fall out of it, but HE keeps you in. You can feel him deep in your mind. His fingers wriggling within. Any control you had was surely gone. A sickening feeling you wouldn’t wish upon anyone. You truly were his, whether you wanted to be or not. You seek repulsion against the feeling of him in your veins. 

Kas watches you in absolute terror. A memory come to life once again. He can see your snapped leg out of his peripherals but he desperately keeps his widening eyes on your face. He shakes. He shakes as he sees your face pale. His lips tremble. He reminds himself that he did this to you. It may not be his hands, but he put you in this situation and now he is forced to watch your execution.

“Which one next?” Vecna asks lightheartedly. He slightly turns his head towards Kas. His eyes still glued to you, but he manages to pull away. Kas notes the increased excitement in Vecna’s eyes. He despises it, but can’t look away. If he does, then he would have to look at you. However, he can’t escape your crying, your pleading, your begging ringing in his ears. The sound somehow converts into daggers at his side. It causes a worse wound than his death AND rebirth. 

“Please!” you scream with a voice ripped right from your chest. Kas bites his lip as he stares at the floor. The damage to his system abundant in his face. “Just,” the word falls out of his mouth before he could stop it. Vecna turns faster than the word is spoken. “Just what?” he says slowly. He faces him now, full on. Kas could see you starting to fall unconscious from your pain in his sidelines. He is beyond thankful. 

Kas takes a deep breath before drawing his glance back towards Vecna. “You need to stop,” he says. He decides that honesty, something that does not come naturally for him, is his best path ahead. “Something inside me cares for her and I-I can’t have her die like this.” His eyes fall to the ground as he inadvertently becomes vulnerable. He relinquishes his power as he slightly bows before his alpha, his “savior.”

Vecna’s human eyes fall into the depths of hell as disappointment claws across his face. “She left you for dead,” he spits out with a waver to his voice. With a quick shake to his head, he reaches his arm out, undoubtedly to break another one of your limbs. Kas catches his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He quickly looks at your resting body, ensuring he did not do anything within that fraction of a second. “She is the only thing that’s made me feel alive since you brought me back,” he musters. “You will not take her from me.” 

A deep, grumbled scoff falls from Vecna’s scorched lips. He pulls harshly from Kas’ grasp, as though his touch was poisonous. Kas awkwardly places his hand back at his side, still ready for the offensive, but suddenly extremely careful with where his hands were. “You are telling me you haven’t had any fun since I brought you back?” he clarifies with a laugh. “I saw you smiling while a man’s blood fell from your lip. Your laughter now haunts the New World, as does mine.”

A wince squeezes his face as Kas shakes his head. “Killing is different from living,” he whispers. “You don’t get to decide that,” the deep and overpowering voice emerges. Vecna hasn’t used this voice since they first met. He hasn’t heard him like this since Kas last asked a question or attempted to have any semblance of autonomy. “The only way you can live is if you kill her,” he continues. “Kill her for me.” 

Vecna closes the space between them, leaving Kas to shudder at his increasing voice volume. “Kill her, for me,” he says as he steps away from your unconscious body, still floating above the ground and destined for death.

A haze of a memory as you slowly open your eyelids to watch the two below. Just a few moments and you will cease to be. “I’m crazy about you, Eddie,” you whisper.

And then everything went dark. 

Your cheek rests against a warm and soft surface. It is comforting, familiar. Squelches are heard from, what you assume to be, mudded ground beneath you. Normally, you would be overly curious as to where you were, where your body was headed, who you were with - but not today. You are beyond exhausted, beyond lethargic. Your mind shattered in a million pieces, accompanied by a wretched headache.

A cheek bounces off the warmth as your body sways. The taste of metal fills your mouth. You smack your lips, attempting to get the taste off your tongue. Immediately, a giggle fills the small area between where your head and hand rest against the firm skin. This peaks your interest as you slowly open your eyes, peering your chin up naturally. 

You see the beloved curled locks you long for gracefully brushing against your forehead. A strong jaw line as it clenches, painfully holding back any more laughter. A quick movement of the Adam's apple as he swallows. You curl deeper into the warmness. Nuzzling deeper into his skin as a little grumble leaves your lips. Why would you ever pull away? 

“God, you’re so cute,” you hear Kas’ voice echo within the space. Your mind immediately panics, wriggling your limbs about until he drops you flat onto the ground. The pain resonates through your right hip, but you quickly push the thought away and prepare yourself for his attack. You spin upon your knees and grab hold of a nearby rock, throwing it at him. Naturally, he laughs as he dodges your attempt easily. “I like you better when you’re asleep,” he mutters with a thick upper lip. 

Your eyes rapidly scan the area around you. You find yourself in the woods, but recognize that Vecna’s demonic presence has not impacted the beauty of the nature around you. Were you out of Hawkins? You turn around and note a large plain of tall winded grass and a grand scene of bright light blue across the sky. Freedom. “We’re almost out,” he announces with a deep and confusing sigh. We? you question in your mind. Last you knew, he was about to kill you and now there is a “we?” 

“How did we get here?” you ask, returning your determined eyes upon him. Your body remains defensive, ready to strike if deemed necessary. Kas looks to his feet, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. The top of his shoe hits against the sole of his other. His hands resting at his back, exposing his bare chest. He stands awkwardly, uncomfortably … vulnerable in front of you. Your breathing intensifies as your eyes meet his. “Last I remember, you were about to kill me,” you say quietly. Your hand slowly crawling towards the next nearby rock. 

His eyes widen before you as he takes a step forward. Your body involuntarily shudders at his approach. Your grip tightening against the rock, almost painfully. “I was never going to kill you,” he replies softly. His body language retreating, as he leans heavily against the trunk of a tree. “Bullshit,” you throw out as your teeth grind. Anger reverberates throughout your body as you struggle to keep yourself calm. 

Kas pushes off the tree with closed, tightened fists. “I was never going to kill you,” he enunciates. “As much as I wanted to,” he whispers under his breath. Your breathing heavies as you watch him begin to pace. “Am I supposed to thank you?” you spit out, terrified to stand from your kneel. “I wouldn’t mind a thank you,” he says sarcastically. “But I also wouldn’t mind you believing me.” You immediately laugh, following his words closely. “Believe you? You must be joking,” you huff with a lowly chuckle. “You left me to die,” you say sternly. The rage within your chest builds your courage as you stand before him. 

“Left you to die? God, how dramatic are you?” he mumbles, throwing his hand up in the air. You step forward, your hands clenching. You forget the rock piercing your palm. “You left me, crying - devastated,” you yell, tears welling in your eyes. “Are you serious, y/n?” he says sternly, entering your space. 

His rage boiling over, equal to your own. The way he says your name is unfamiliar, uncomfortable. “You thought I was him!” he yells. His face is so close to your own that you could note the small hints of pain within his eyes. “You said you didn’t know him,” he growls, his upper lip lifting on one side. 

“I said, I didn’t know who you were,” you yell. Your frustration is as clear as a bell. You push against his ribs, giving yourself a bit more breathing room. Kas’ devilish smirk, the one you swear is plastered to his face, disappears. His body halts after taking a step or two to gain his balance. A cold rush flows from his head to his feet. You find yourself curious, almost concerned, but you quickly remind yourself of the pain he’s caused you. Your worry just as easily turns into enjoyment. 

“You’re right,” he mumbles. You scoff, the words sound absolutely foreign coming from his obnoxious mouth. However, he stares at you. He stares at you blankly - with no indication of what he is thinking, what he is feeling. Your smile slowly forms into a line. “I didn’t know who you were,” you repeat softly. His eyes solemnly rake over your body until they fall upon your lips. He avoids eye contact as you continue your thought. 

“I knew the man, I-,” you start to fumble on your words. “I knew who you were talking about.” For some reason, you feel the need to be truthful, to clarify his twisted idea of what occurred. “I knew you were asking if I knew Ed-” you take a sharp breath. His name hurts - a new sensation that you immediately despise. “Eddie,” you let out in a sigh. The only way the name would fall out as you exhale from the pain it causes. “But I knew you weren’t him, even in that first moment. I lied to myself, I can see that now.” You peer down at your anxious fingers as they dig into your nail beds. “I wasn’t ready to accept the truth, but I didn’t lie to you,” your voice growing more clear and confident as you end your statement. 

A wave of emotions floods Kas’ brain. He can’t ignore the pain you caused. The crack in his heart that caused him to leave you in a puddle of your own tears. But can he really blame you for what you did? For thinking he might have been the man you loved. For being confused. Exactly how he is not to blame for the intense fire within his chest anytime he catches a glimpse of you. 

Eddie may be dead, but there is a part of him that is fresh and beating within Kas’ chest. He loved her. Loves her? He squeezes his eyes shut as he runs his fingers through his hair. He slowly lowers into a crouch as he ponders over her words. He tries desperately to keep Vecna’s out… She did this. She left you to die.

“Now, it’s time for you to tell me the truth, Kas,” you demand with a wobbling voice. “What the hell happened back there?” He pulls his head out from his hands as he looks back up at you. You try to suppress the anxiety that presents at the bottom of your throat. “You loved him,” he whispers as he grips harshly against his chin. Any reference to Eddie also pains Kas, like acid in his mouth. 

With a quick movement, Kas stands before you, straight and tall. “When you would sleep together,” he starts. Your eyes harden as your brows pull together. Upon the sight of you, Kas chuckles. “When you were actually sleeping, darlin’,” he corrects with a smirk. Your face softens as you nod in encouragement for him to continue. He looks off, behind you, almost as though he can see a picture of the scene before him. 

“You would always wake him up with your snoring,” he laughs, biting his lip. “But he was grateful. It always gave him a chance to watch you. You - you looked so peaceful, you know?” His smirk transforms into a smile of remembrance as his eyes quickly pan over to you. “He loved pushing this silly strand behind your ear,” he says as he slowly reaches for your face. You instinctually pull away, but slowly allow him to touch a piece of hair dangling before your face. He places it behind your ear with a gentle finger. 

“He was crazy about you,” he says softly, as though the words mean nothing. But you know better. Those words mean everything to you - to you and Eddie. Those words are gut-wrenching to hear, but you do your best not to show it, still unwilling to expose your vulnerability.

“In the cafeteria, he would watch you. Always making sure that his girl was alright,” he chuckles. “Even before you were really his.” Your face twitches in confusion as the feelings coursing through your veins continue to contradict each other.  “He always watched you,” he says as he closes his eyes. “Catching glimpses of your smile in between the chaos of that room. He didn’t even know your name yet.” His face contracts, as though he is also confused. “How did he know he loved you without even knowing you?” he asks as he finally opens his eyes. Genuine curiosity fills those deadly chocolate eyes.

Brown, they’re brown - not red. Not anymore. 

The silence brings your attention to your wobbling bottom lip. Your brows push together. You are sure there is a wrinkle forming between them. “He told me he was always curious about me,” you start self-consciously. You wanted to know more - to hear more, but you didn’t want to give Kas any more than you needed to. 

“I remember the first time he saw you,” Kas starts with a lighthearted breath. Part of him hated this. Hated talking about the man he could never be. Another part felt happiness, an overwhelming feeling that floods through his body. It grows as he recognizes the same happiness within your eyes. Even though he is split, he must continue - for you. 

“You were this nervous girl, tightening the straps to your backpack when you walked down the hallway,” he continues. He gestures a line between them as though he is mapping out the school’s halls. You watch his hands intently. “He was a junior. He knew he shouldn’t even be looking at you - fresh meat and all.” He immediately acknowledges the confusion on your face and clarifies, “Dibs go right to first year Hellfires, but you…” He chuckles with a shrug. He tsks between his cheeks as he beams into a smile. “For you, he’d break all the rules.” 

Kas analyzes your reaction. Concern washes over him as he watches a tear stream down your cheek. To his surprise, a smile immediately follows. A smile that he is sure you are not even aware of, which makes it that much better. He could see why he loved you. Why he fell for you the second his eyes landed on yours. You are beautiful, despite your annoying, strong headed attitude. 

“Then that night, you called him up on your birthday,” Kas adds with amusement. “He was shocked that you even managed to get his number. He was devising a plan to get yours for the past year and a half.” His eyes widen at the sound of a small giggle falling from your lips. You are still enthralled with the memory, not yet ready to fall into reality. Fall back with Kas. You wanted him. “When he finally got to talk to you, he knew,” he shares with his smile closed and pulled to the side. “I don’t know how, but he did.”

He stops speaking, leaving silence to fill the air. He watches as you slowly flow back into real life. He notes the point where your happiness dissipates. Your eyes fall upon his, leaving that visual imaginary world depicted by his words. You are reminded of where you are now, and how much you wish you could go back. Go back to that opening in the woods, to that bench. You are hesitant of the memories he has shared, of their purpose. But above all, you are grateful. 

“Thank you,” you whisper as you nod, looking everywhere but his eyes. “You’re welcome,” he responds with a hint of confusion. 

After a brief interlude of awkward silence, you say softly, “Kas, can you please tell me how we got here?” You take a step to approach him and his tree. He straightens up, hopeful of you closing the distance between your bodies. Finally, your eyes scan his chest and note the many pink scratches across his skin. Taking another step, you slip upon a branch. Your weight shifts quickly and you feel a soul-crushing pain exude up your right leg. The pain brings along the memory of you floating in front of your two killers. 

In a panic, you immediately look down to note that your leg is fine, and that you, too, have a pink scratch against the side of your shin. “What did you do to me?” you scream as fight or flight ensues. You squeeze your eyes closed, begging for your memories to share some insight into what happened to you - desperate not to depend on just Kas’ recollection. 

Kas stands with eyes to the ground once more. You begin to notice this guilty tell of his. “You don’t need to remember that. You should just go - go now,” he encourages. His palms towards you as he approaches, turns you around, and attempts to walk you out of the woods. “No!” you exclaim as you pry his hands off of you. His solemn face drops as he realizes there is no getting out of this.

“Tell me what the hell happened, Kas! Now,” you demand as you point to the ground with a stomp. Your entire body fuming as you struggle to find peace with what you have learned. “Okay,” he says calmly. “But promise me, after I do, you’ll leave this place.” You take a deep breath, biting your lip as you watch him with fury. After he tells you what happened, you would have no reason to stay here. To stay in this fucked up version of Hawkins. You would finally be free from this never-ending shit show. Finally, you would be free to grieve. To mourn.

“I promise.”

“Kill her, for me,” Vecna booms with excitement in his eyes. Kas could not help but notice the odd interest he had in him. Almost as though every interaction was an experiment meant to be further analyzed and studied. Usually, the words ring true in his mind anytime Vecna speaks. But this time, the words were rotten. They were impossible to follow. An impenetrable idea in his heart and in his mind that the girl before him cannot die. And most definitely not by his own hands. 

Kas has never disobeyed an order. He killed as easily and as quickly as the words fell from Vecna’s mouth. He did it without regret, without remorse. He killed with laughter, enjoyment. Just as Vecna taught him. He particularly enjoyed the fellow students who recognized his former self. Each one assumed that he would help them, save them. Yet, they all called him a freak, a satanist, a murderer. They were right about two of those things anyway, and he made sure to prove it to them with their slow deaths.

But now, he is stuck - desperate for a way out. Unsure of the safest path forward. The path that will bring you to the sanctuary you deserve. He caused your pain, the least he could do was get you out of it. His eyes travel from the horrific sight before him to Vecna’s melted flesh. A twinge of pain in his brow as he attempts to gather the words. Naively hoping that maybe, just maybe, Vecna will understand and let you go. 

Before he can do anything, Kas hears a simple whisper fall from your mouth. A whisper so sweet, so soft that it sounded like it came straight from the heavens above. And with those words, the words you thought would be your last - “I’m crazy about you, Eddie,” his heart filled with undeniable love. 

A flash of your smile floods his mind. Laughter that he would be lucky to listen to for the rest of his life. A moan so sexy and daunting that he had to hear more. Another flash and he stumbles back, almost in pain. Hands rushing to his head as he presses the base of his palms against his brow bone. He is transported back in time. Back to you...

“Hey, don’t forget the popcorn, babe,” he says while munching on the last kernel. What appears to be an action movie blasts loudly across the screen. Kas recognizes the space - it’s HIS trailer. He looks to his right and lands on your beautiful smile. He almost doesn’t notice that you were wearing his t-shirt, strawberry printed panties, and fuzzy long socks bundled at your ankles. You jump over to him in excitement. The popcorn nearly falling out of the bowl. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” you say with increasing volume. Your hand rests lightly upon his chest as your other hand gestures towards the tv. Your eyes are on the movie, but his are glued to you. “This is my favorite part,” you gleam as you softly pat his chest. “I’ll be back,” you imitate in a low-toned and thick accent. 

This was the moment. The moment he knew, without a doubt, that he loved you. From that moment forward, he had every intention of making you his life partner - his wife. He had met his soulmate and he was beyond thankful, knowing that not everyone is as lucky as he. 

“I’m crazy about you, girl,” he whispers as he pushes back that familiar strand of hair that always falls in front of your face. Your smile grows as crimson rises to your cheeks. Your chin pins to your chest as you express a sweet mix of appreciation and embarrassment. 

“Oh, my love,” you whisper as you cup your hand to his cheek. He could feel your warmth. He leans into it. In this simple embrace, you have given him everything he has ever wanted. “I’m crazy about you, Eddie.” He rushes into the kiss, almost as though you may disappear before his very eyes. His hands grip tight around your waist and lower back, determined to never let you go as long as you wanted him. He loved you from the day he saw you, but this was the day he knew you loved him back. 

Kas winces, pulling out of the memory as he stumbles a few steps back. An ambiguous streak of concern riddles Vecna’s face. Save her, a familiar voice rings clear through Kas’ mind. Vecna immediately replies, “No, you must kill her. Kill her for me.” Kas could not even comprehend that Vecna was answering his thoughts. His heart shreds, splitting in two as he struggles to find solid ground. Save her, the voice enunciates once more. 

His eyes flick up towards Vecna. Eyes glowing red as they stare into the soulless being. A subtle shock is depicted upon Vecna’s face in response to Kas’ physical defiance. With a quick outward throw of his hand, Kas’ energy propels Vecna out of the home and straight into the ground a few meters down. Broken wood falls everywhere. Insulation slowly seeping from the cracks.

Kas stares at this hand curiously. He did not know he was capable of such power - power comparable to his. He never needed to use it. Most definitely not when met with Vecna. With a quick glance to his incapacitation, Kas jumps towards your still floating body and wraps his arms around you. His forearm supports your neck, while his other holds your knees. He tries his best to avoid the sight of your damaged leg. It evokes a confusing and distinct feeling within that pangs his sternum.

He holds you tight against his chest, primarily for his own benefit. The warmth you exude transcending deep with his own skin, providing the comfort he desperately sought for. Before he could step out the door, Vecna gracefully lifts from the ground with ease. He lands gently before the two of you, despite the fury building within his expression. 

All Kas could do was watch in horror. He has never once felt vulnerable before, and yet, here he is - with the most important being in the world within his arms - within harm’s way. With a simple firm hand, Vecna flings Kas against the living room. His back bounces off the wall as a ragged and pain-filled grunt drops from his mouth. 

A vengeful force pinning his head against the peeling and painted walls. Your body left rigid and exposed across the floor. He tries so desperately to pull his crown from the wall’s surface, but the power was too strong. All he wanted was to ensure your safety. 

Vecna comes into view. Those blackened eyes piercing right into Kas’ soul. “What have you done?” the low, booming voice echoes within the space. It leaves shivers down Kas’ spine. “Let us go,” he spits out through grinding teeth. Suddenly, Vecna raises his clawed hand, causing pain to electrify each and every one of Kas’ pain receptors. Open wounds spread across his chest. The oxidized air stinging the bloodied rips. A scream stills the room, a scream that only the two of them can hear. 

“Us?” Vecna says with an amused tone. He pulls his hand from the traitor’s face. A displeasing taste in his mouth. A sudden shift to his voice and Vecna’s anger appears ten-fold. “You don’t even know who she is,” he whispers as he leans into Kas’ face. His eyes admiring the pained response of his clenched jaw. “I don’t,” Kas struggles to say. He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping that it may distract from the pain. “I don’t know you either,” he manages to let out with a gasping breath. 

Vecna’s eyes harden as he stares within Kas’. A slight head tilt and the pain disappears. Kas takes in a heavy breath, still pinned forcefully against the wall. “You know me,” Vecna mutters as he turns back to your lifeless body. He wishes he could kill you right here. Snap all your bones until you were an unidentifiable pretzel. But in order to do that, he would need to make you conscious, just for the sake of enjoyment in your death. But the thought of your aggravating voice was enough to put the pleasure of torture out of his mind. “No, I know what you want from me,” Kas whispers back. 

With heavied breaths and a tightened neck, Kas manages to lift his head from the wall to stare down onto Vecna’s burnt skull. A slight uptick of Vecna’s brow revealed the impressiveness he saw within Kas’ strength. Impressive, yet worrisome. A slow burning smirk and he returns his hollowed eyes back to the man before him. “And what do I want from you?” he says amusingly as he slowly returns his hand to Kas’ face. 

Kas immediately makes eye contact with the daggered fingers. His heart racing as he takes a loaded breath in through his nostrils. He returns his eyes towards Vecna’s, courage pouring from his irises. “You want a lieutenant. Someone to lead your armies,” Kas spits out with disgust. “You want someone to stand beside you as the world burns.” A bellowing laugh erupts from Vecna’s chest as the hand carelessly falls from Kas’ cheek. “I don’t need someone to lead,” he laughs effortlessly. The words falling without care. “I can lead.” 

Twisting his head, Vecna pushes in closer to Kas’ face. Kas still manages to hold his head a mere inch away from the wall, but nothing more and nothing less. Only what Vecna allows. “Then why did you bring me back?” Kas hisses. His nostrils flare as he stares down his lifted chin. He desperately holds on to any autonomy he can get. 

“I need a partner,” Vecna answers softly. The bit of disdain within his voice can almost be mistaken as vulnerability. He pulls his eyes from Kas’ before he could recognize the twinge of pain within them. He walks back towards your unconscious body. He rakes over you, questioning what Kas saw in you. “You were right about one thing,” he continues as he speaks over his shoulder. “I do want someone to stand beside me as the world burns.” 

Vecna swiftly turns back to Kas. The quick movement almost berating his body with an impenetrable force that flew his head back against the wall. A soft hiss falls from Kas’ lips as he sears from the blunt pain. “What did she do?” Vecna asks as he takes another step towards him. “What did she do that made you give up on everything that we had?” 

Kas begins to feel a tightening against his neck. He coughs as he struggles to gather his breath. He tries his best to calm his body, not wanting to show any response to Vecna’s abuse. “Nothing,” he whispers with a strained voice. “She did absolutely nothing to pull me from you.” 

After a laugh of disbelief, Vecna sucks his tongue against his bottom teeth with a clenched jaw. “She had to do something, Kas,” he says with pseudo-encouragement in his tone. His boisterous attitude disappears just as quickly as it emerged. A wash of despair falls upon Vecna as he slowly realizes what you gave Kas. A thing that he could never give. Kas scoffs, enjoying the pain that resonates on the face before him. 

“You kill innocent people,” Kas asserts with a hindered voice. Now it was Vecna’s turn to laugh. “Innocent? There’s no such thing as innocent people,” he grumbles with another painful chuckle. Kas’ lips form into a solid line as hatred fills his lungs. “Chrissy Cunningham was innocent,” he spits out loudly. Vecna grumbles as a slow smile forms on his face. “Who?” he asks sarcastically. Kas hisses immediately, almost as though he was ready for Vecna’s dismissal. “The girl you killed in front of me,” he retorts. 

Vecna’s back immediately straightens as he stares at Kas in incredulity. “You remember?” he asks quietly. “No, no. You were perfect,” he attempts to understand by speaking aloud to himself. Kas lets out another bustling laugh despite the pain it caused in his wounded body. “How many times did you kill me before I was perfect?” Kas asks nonchalantly. 

The words penetrating Vecna’s thick armor as he stumbles a step back. “How long did it take you to realize that I remembered before you sicked your bats on me? Before you brought me back again and again?” Kas lets out a simple chuckle, feeling the strength holding him against the wall weaken. He stretches his neck, hearing a clear crack in its side. “You killed me and then expected me to call you my savior,” he mutters in disgust. 

As anger boils the blood that courses through his veins, Kas pulls harshly away from the wall. The feeling no different than peeling his skin off of a burning stove. He struggles to muffle the scream forming in his throat, but his eyes are set upon Vecna. He lands harshly onto the floor, evaporating the force that held him up. 

Vecna’s expression rests in a fixed state of complete bewilderment and determination. “You may despise me, but you do love her,” he whispers in a clear monotone. His quick disconnection from reality settles in as his hand slowly raises - and you along with it. Kas’ eyes widen as he watches your lifeless body raise behind Vecna’s shoulder. 

“Would you like to feel the pain you just caused me?” Vecna says carelessly as a sadistic smile pulls to the side of his face. Kas’ eyes quickly scatter between yours and his. His entire body fuels with adrenaline as he watches your body destined for death within the hands of his “savior.” “Wait,” he pleads. His mouth immediately fills with regret as he slowly returns his eyes to the soulless pair before him. “Don’t.” 

Vecna continues to stare into Kas. He internalizes the twitches of his face, all the pained lines drawn upon his skin. A small part of him wonders if Kas will ever care for him as much as he does for you - if he ever has. The words drop as quickly as the thought fades from his mind. “Don’t what?” he mocks. Kas winces as he begrudgingly returns his sorrowed eyes to Vecna. “Don’t hurt her,” he whispers with a lack of intonation to his voice. “I will stay with you, but only if you let her go.” 

A heart flutters faster than intended. Faster than he ever remembered it could. Vecna swallows his pride as he slowly lowers the desolate girl behind him. “Take her to the border,” he instructs as he steps out of Kas’ direct path towards you.

Kas nods as he rushes to your side. His fingers gently brush the hair from your face as he desperately searches your skin for abrasions. “You’re okay. You’re okay,” he says softly and repeatedly. He tucks his arm underneath your neck. Another arm hooks beneath your knees as he slowly lifts both your bodies up from his crouch.

As he heads towards the door without any intention of looking back, Vecna adds, “If she returns, I will kill her.” Kas slowly turns around, following the ear closest to Vecna as he ingrains the threat into his memory. “If you don’t return, I will kill her.” Fear pangs his heart. It is almost audible as his eyes fall to the ground. He slowly turns, careful not to make sudden movements, as he and you both escape death. Vecna watches him as he carries your undeserving being through the threshold. 

As soon as he made enough headway from the now demolished house, Kas bolts into a sprint to create as much distance between you and his maker. He takes you to another piece of the fallen Hawkin’s border. Your body often smacks against his chest within his haste. The sounds are almost reminiscent of the previous night, but he pushes the thought far from his mind. 

Finally, Kas finds an abandoned church along the way. “Saint Jude’s,” he reads aloud as he walks down the stoned pathway. He finds irony in the idea but pushes through the big double doors with you in his arms. He lightly lays you down upon a pew. Another finger brushes the soft strand out of your face - a now involuntary and automatic act of care. His eyes rake your body, assessing the damages. The majority of your skin was racked with bruises. However, the biggest concern was, of course, your broken leg. 

With a heavy breath in preparation, Kas finally takes in the sight of your distorted leg. The image hurt him more than he could have ever imagined. Seething in hot breaths, he raises his wrist and bites harshly against it. Softly, he raises your head to his inner wrist. Your pretty mouth resting nicely against his wound. 

In your woozy state, you push him away. Some part of your consciousness awakens as adrenaline bursts through and your fists begin swinging. He holds you down, despite the blood falling from his forearm. “God, you’re unbearable even when you sleep,” he grumbles. Your defenses slowly soften as you slip back into unconsciousness. He raises his wrist to your mouth once more. His other hand slowly caresses the back of your head as his fingers trace through strands of your hair.

As soon as a drop of blood falls upon your lips, your body craves it. Suddenly, your hands were holding the back of his wrist and pressing his forearm against your face. He tries his best not to find the interaction incredibly arousing, but your embrace, light sucks, and little nibbles make his head swoon. You took as much of him as you needed, falling back in exhaustion once finished. 

Kas hovers over you for what seemed like hours, but is truly only minutes. A smile forms on his face as he watches the bruises slowly disappear from your beautiful skin. “You’re okay, darlin’,” he whispers. The words finally feel true. He places a gentle kiss on your forehead. A kiss you will never know of. 

With that, he carries you up to his chest once more to finish the trek to the border. He cannot help the smirk that plagues his cheeks as he feels you nuzzle against him. A clear, but subtle smile forming on your own lips. 

“And then he let us go and I healed you with my blood,” Kas states matter-of-factly with a shrug. His back still leaning heavily against the tree trunk. Arms and ankles crossed as he slowly raises his eyes onto yours. 

You stumble back, placing a hand against your stomach. Nausea washes over your head as you attempt to process the information provided. You quickly drop to your knees. The movement is sudden enough that Kas jumps from the tree, desperate to catch you. “I’m okay,” you say as you swat his hands away. “I-I just,” you start, breathlessly. “I just need a second. That-that was a lot.” He steps back slowly and hesitantly. He gradually falls into a squat in front of you as he mindlessly picks up random leaves to play with - giving you the space you asked for. 

Your mind feels fixed, almost as though you cannot trust your own memories. What Kas says happened sounds familiar, yet unfamiliar all at the same time. You also cannot forget that the truth does not come so easily from those particular supple lips. You push your fingers through your hair, trying not to burst into sobs over the lack of control. It is not easy to accept being a toy in someone else’s game, to accept no longer being the main character. 

From what Kas shared, you should be safe. You should be free, yet - you feel anything but. Something was not right. “Kas,” you whisper, breaking the silence. His head pops up almost immediately. “So, Vecna tried to kill me. He-he broke my leg,” you attempt to recollect. The words all feeling familiar. “You both fought and then he just agreed to let us go?” you ask in disbelief. Kas nodded, gesturing a compressed shrug with his hands. 

“I don’t believe you,” you say lightly with a shake of your head. 

Kas scoffs as he pushes his curly hair back. The smile almost juvenile as he looks back at you with distrust. “Believe what you want, darlin’,” he shrugs once again. He stands up, making his way back to his trusty tree. “No,” you say abruptly, standing yourself. “There’s no way he would let us go without anything in return,” you murmur to yourself, thinking aloud. “What did you do?” you ask with horrified eyes. 

He deadpans as soon as your question hits his ears. With a deep breath, he whispers, “I got us out.” You walk towards him with a stubborn, determined pace as your palms press against his chest. “What did you do, Kas?” you ask again as you watch him stumble back from your push. With a look of annoyance, he rushes you with a finger pointed in your face. “I saved your life and this is the thanks I get,” he yells with hands out to his sides. “God,” he scoffs, pulling away from you and throwing a hand up. “I did what I had to,” he mumbles as he adds more distance between you two. 

You follow him, a gentle hand to his wrist as you turn him around. Those gentle brown eyes that you know so well staring back at you. This time you recognize Kas within them. “Kas, what did you do?” you ask calmly. His gaze falls to your hand. He slowly lowers your fingers and intertwines them with his before flicking his eyes back to you. “I have to go back,” he whispers, like an innocent boy admitting his wrongs.

You take a sharp breath as you try your best to keep calm, but your head is already involuntarily shaking no. “It’s okay,” Kas murmurs as he tightens his palm against yours. “I’ve made my peace.” Your eyes swiftly fall upon his, tears welling. “No,” you muster. “You don’t have to.” The unbearable weight pressing against your chest has only just lifted, and yet, another hundred or so pounds are added on. A man who pained you so harshly, who then saved you, is going back to hell for you. The words are beyond confusing to think about, but it does not change the feeling of hope you have towards your new ally. 

“You don’t have to go back,” you whimper as your other arm rests against his back and pulls him into a hug. The warmth of his embrace confirms that bit of his story within your own memory. “If I don’t go, I am setting up some other miserable fuck for hell on Earth,” he whispers in your ear as his chin finds a spot upon your shoulder. His hand pressing against the base of your skull, supporting you. “I won’t do that to someone else.” 

You pull away, shaking your head again. His forehead falls against the crook of your neck, almost naturally. “Aren’t you supposed to be the bad guy?” you ask incredulously. His head lifts as confusion presses his brows together. “Why do you care what happens to the next guy?” A smile pulls to the side of his face as he presses his hips against yours. The largest space between you two rests between your chests as you hold each other tightly at the waist. “You must be rubbing off on me,” he mutters softly. 

“Come with me, Kas,” you say as you break away from the embrace. Your fingertips brushing against his as you attempt to walk into the field. The sun is starting the set and the light blue sky fills with orange. As you continue to step into the field, you swear the air tastes different. “I can’t,” he whispers as you pull away and he chooses not to chase you.

The act stops you in your tracks as you look back at him. You take the second to think, to devise a plan. “If I promise you that we can kill him, maybe not today or tomorrow, but some day we will come back and kill him - then, would you come with me?” you ask hopelessly. You have absolutely no idea of how that might happen. How you two might accomplish such a feat. You have never known the need for revenge until meeting Kas. Nothing will stop you from finding out how to put Vecna in the ground, and suffer as you do it. 

Without thinking, the words fall from your lips all with good intent, “I promise you. Will you come with me?” You walk back to the border, only a step away from the impending doom that is Hawkins. Your hand extended for someone who is just as capable of that same doom, and yet, you pray he will take it. You hope he will join you in this world and that he will help you defeat your lover’s killer. All you can do is hope. A hand falls into yours, breaking your string of thoughts. 

“I will,” Kas says softly as he steps into the orange glow of the sunset.

note: how we feeling? what are we thinking? we have 3 more parts to go and best believe the gang will be making an appearance! thank you for taking the time to read 🤍 i hope you will share your thoughts!

next part • feeling everything •

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• nav • no-no plagiarism • series • requests open •

[talesofsonicasura]

MFN/Transformers: Reader

I noticed my post yesterday is blowing up up why not go further into the concept? Like I said before, THERE ARE NO SPOILERS. Anything I mention from the game is info established from the demo, trailers, steam page and synopsis.

Let's get started, shall we?

Reader is going to be gender neutral or preferred gender. They're very close to Optimus Prime but you won't be seeing any romance in the main story. If I do a pairing then it'll be in a side story. There will be lighthearted teasing for both Reader and Optimus but everything remains platonic.

You can't tell me none of Prime's fellow bots tease him about a possible interest. Especially when his sporadic visits begin to seem suspicious. As for Reader, blame Ricky. I don't think something like a possible crush or love is gonna escape his radar. Luckily the sock puppet has some tact to keep the more childlike puppets from hearing.

Now for the actual post itself:

Reader is like Mary Poppins. They have a mysterious magical connection with My Friendly Neighborhood. Any magic is imaginative and harmless to those around them. Optimus wants to explore the place? He just has to close his optics and let Reader hold his servo. When he opens them, the Autobot is now human sized.

It's much more stronger in the Neighborhood as they can subtly alter reality around them to suit their needs. The further Reader is from the place though, the weaker it will be. Weakest being only able to conjure letters for ammo. Imagination, childlike whimsy and positive emotions does help restore their magical power.

Like Mary Poppins, Reader is a kindhearted individual. Willing to help others with their problems or give them a hug if need be. Reader does have all the weapons from the game but only for protection outside the Neighborhood.

Getting clocked with metal alphabet letters at a high speed are more painful to someone not made out of cloth and felt. One good headshot is enough to induce unconscious for a human. Letter to an optic will definitely break it.

They rather not expose the puppets to any violence if possible. Should everyone need to hide then there are spots Reader made specifically for evacuation purposes. Trust me when I say they have all sorts of non-lethal ways to handle dangerous intruders. Once the aggressors are knocked out, Reader wipes their memories involving the Neighborhood, destroy the evidence, then dump the blokes far away from the place.

They also carry an umbrella to travel around since the magic needed isn't too much. Reader sometimes carry a small 'birdhouse' for Ricky to emerge from. Optimus is later given one too when he contemplates telling the truth to his companions.

For Bayverse, Knightverse and Prime, Reader allows Team Prime asylum near the Neighborhood until they have a safer place to stay. You can bet bots like Ironhide or Jazz are scolded multiple times for nearly breaking the bad language rule. No one wants Junebug to run around spreading a swear she overheard to the other puppets.

Reader is practically the 'mom friend' of the group once the secret's out. Absolutely dolting on the bots and their human companions.

'Ironhide, have you consume any Energon today? If not then go refuel.'

'Hey Bumblebee! Raf is waiting in the backyard for you with Norman and Junebug. Take a break and go play some games.'

'There you are, Mirage! Everyone is worried. Want to talk buddy?'

Overall, Reader is going to be a whimsical delight amongst the cast.

*If anyone is wondering about canon deaths like Jazz. Reader can revive them if they're brought to the Neighborhood. It does take a massive strain on them but the more intact the body is, the smaller the cost. The three main components of a Cybertronian have to be in good condition or repaired. Substitutes for those work fine as long as it matches the individual's nature. EX. Ratchet: Medical Equipment like a heart pacer for Spark Chamber. Jazz: Performance items such as a boombox.

If push comes to shove, Reader can store their soul inside a puppet but they can't leave the Neighborhood. They need to be in their actual body as these are temporary vessels that need constant magic to survive. Let me paint the image of a puppet Breakdown and Knockout staring at each other. Also they will scold Prime Optimus if he pulls that endgame stunt.*

That's it for now! Until next time folks, continue to be good neighbors to those around you. Now transform and roll out!

[frustratedasatruar]

The us-and-them dichotomy is, of course, typical of cultish organisations. The 'us' are morally superior, pure, intelligent, right and good, and the 'them' (Israel/Jews/Zionists) are morally inferior - corrupt, evil, wrong and bad. And language comes into this, too (the redefining of Zionist, and use of words like Israhell). It's absolute. There is no nuance, no recognition of the other's humanity. And 'the other' isn't worth listening to, because of course they're liars or fools.

Something just clicked for me.

This is how you describe various fictional supernatural antagonist factions, like Mordor or 40K's Chaos.

Mordor is inherently evil, its slaves degenerated from an earlier, higher state.* Negotiation with Mordor is essentially useless; ruled by Sauron, former right hand of Morgoth (Eru's Own Traitor), whose evil is only lesser on the technicality that many of Sauron's crimes were theoretically in the service of another, while Morgoth only ever served himself. Sauron is ontologically Evil, he cannot be convinced to mitigate suffering.

*(If I was to argue with this assertion Watsonianly, I would point out that this is canonically true of literally everyone in Arda. However, I'm speaking Doylistically, so set that aside.)

Worse, and this is critical, Negotiation with Mordor opens you up to being corrupted by its Evil. Innately, and through no fault of your own, permitting information flow from Sauron to yourself will ultimately twist you to Sauron's will. Simply; Sauron's charisma score is in the ionosphere, and He can will convince you that up is down if you just let him run his mouth for a bit.

This concept is perhaps best summarized with the term Infohazard. The most secular example of the concept I've ever heard posited is Instructions To Create a Thermonuclear Weapon. An Infohazard is knowledge which is, in itself, Bad to disseminate. The Enemy (Sauron, Tzeentch, The Mother Of Puppets, etc) has the ability to create these at will.

Innately, the only winning move is not to play.

You beat Tzeentch's manipulations by not giving a shit about it or anything it-or-its-(perhaps-unwitting)-agents might be trying to communicate; all communications directly to spam. Even if it had an insightful and accurate thing to share, and you somehow had a way to confirm the accuracy of this information, Tzeentch would only ever share this as a mechanism to manipulate you towards advancing its Malevolent ends. You must decide in advance not to be convinced by anything it says, regardless of any and all accuracy, and hold yourself to that. "Thought-terminating-cliches" are your only way to protect yourself. And even then, you'd have been better off just not hearing it to begin with.

Notably, in settings with these kinds of threats Free Flow of Information is thus inherently a bad thing. If Darkseid tries to post the Anti-Life Equation on Twitter, this can only be stopped from lobotomizing humanity if the heroes preemptively possess a mechanism to suddenly, unilaterally shut down the internet.

You may think I'm building towards the obvious point that the pro-Hamas crowd treats the entire war as a fandom, with preferred fanon interpretations of their woobiefied blorbos who can do no wrong, in-real-time mentally retconning anything to the contrary.

Actually, this isn't my point.

My point is that this is just a description of the Christian Devil. They've looped around back to "The Jews Are Working For The Devil," and dressed it in a semi-secular hat.

There's a thought I've repeatedly had over the last few months regarding the constant refrain of "genocide" coming from the pro-Palestinian Left towards Israel, despite the utter lack of evidence substantiating that accusation.

Back in 2020, towards the end of the George Floyd protests, the cop who murdered Floyd, Derek Chauvin, was charged with Unintentional Second Degree Murder, Third Degree Murder, and Second Degree Manslaughter.

And the response by some people was incredulity at the charges. "Clearly they're trying to get him off! Second degree murder? Third degree murder!? What kind of game are you playing here? This is clearly First Degree Aggravated Murder!" were common claims, along with similar such statements, including some that petulantly (and memorably) claimed that it was somehow a sign of disrespect to Floyd that his murderer wasn't being charged with first degree murder with all of the trimmings.

And sometimes these people listened to the more legally-inclined voices who patiently explained that first, second, and third degree murder and manslaughter are not gradiations on "how cruel and brutal the murder was", but are "how pre-planned or intentional the murder was".

It's really the same pattern here. It can't be "war crimes" or "callous disregard for the safety of the human shields" or any other of the actual crimes that Israel has committed in this conflict. Not, it has to be the Worst Possible Crime, Murder In The First Degree With All Of The Add Ons, For An Entire Population.

And this time, they're not listening to the more legally-inclined voices at all.

[twillightteaparty]

Yandere Seduce Me Boys When Reader Starts Dating a Coworker!

Anonymous Asked:Yandere head canons Seduce me the otome brothers when you start dating a coworker???????

(Post glitched and would let me edit it so my apologizes)

Yandere is a fictional trope that should stay fictional. It is inherently a Toxic relationship dynamic and shouldn’t be sought out in real life. The following post Contains the following: Toxic relationships, manipulation, suggested murder or murder threats, gaslighting.

James

James thinks of himself as a mastermind puppeteer when it comes to his yandere tendencies. He whole heartedly believes that he controls every part of your life. He's not extremely up front with his manipulations per say, but if you paid attention you would be able to tell that James's definitely doing something shady

So when he finds out that you are dating one of your coworkers James finds himself thrown for a loop. He didn't really expect you to date someone else. But in his eyes, your current relationship status is a temporary set back. A momentary loss if you will.

James of course sets back to work, pulling strings, cashing in favours, and splashing around as much cash as he can feasibly afford to spend without drawing any outside attention. All in an effort to draw you back to him, proving that he, James, is the better choice for you romantically. Not that silly little coworker of yours.

What? Your coworker suddenly lost their job? And they got evicted from their apartment? Oh that's so sad. Such a shame isn't it. What a ridiculous thing to happen to an independent adult. You know, really should date someone who's smart and responsible, someone like James.

Erik

Erik likes to believe that he is the best person for you, and that no other could hold a candle to his passionate love for you. So the idea that you would even think about dating another person never crosses his mind.

So when you do date someone else, a coworker no less, its easy to say that Erik was shocked.In Erik's mind its cute you pretend someone so inferior could hold even the slightest candle to him. Was this a cry for attention? Has he been neglecting you enough that you've gone and decided to try and make him jealous?

It doesn't matter if that was actually your plan, in Erik's eyes you definitely succeeded in gaining his attention back. So he'll play up his charm even more, focusing on you completely. He knows he's attractive and charming, and that fact is his biggest weapon

With all the attention and affections he's giving you, in front of your coworker no less, Erik hopes to once again prove that no matter who you pick, they could never compare to him. And in his gut Erik can't help but feel, that soon, you'll find yourself once again enamoured with him.

Sam

Sam is and always has been aggressive in his display of affection towards you. He wants to prove that he's devoted to you and willing to do absolutely anything to make you happy. Even if it gets his hands dirty by doing it. As long as he's making you happy, Sam thinks it's worth all the effort and pain.

So when he hears that you've gone and started dating a coworker? Well Sam gets a little mad. After all he's done for you, this is how you repay him? By dating the first person who comes along.

Sam will not stand for this disrespect. He believes he's done so much for you, he'd even killed for you! Can this idiot say the same? Does he even have the stomach to do everything necessary to make you happy. Absolutely not!

Which in Sam's eyes means, he needs to end this relationship by any means possible, as soon as possible. Soon enough that coworker of yours will find themself shaking in fear at even the thought of speaking to you. Never mind actually dating you!

Matthew

Matthew knows he's considered childish. And despite wanting to fight against that assumption most of the time, he's happy to play up the more innocent aspects of his personality if it means you'll be his.

So you dating a coworker, who does in fact act like an adult around you is a bit of a nightmare for him. Which means Matthew has to pull out the big guns and he knows exactly what to do.

You see Matthew is very good at playing to people's expectations of him and using that to manipulate them into doing what he wants. All the while making them think it was their idea in the first place.

So all Matthew needs to do is to come to you crying with lies about how your coworker is taking you away from him. And that they threatened him! Saying that if he even came close to you they'd make sure he would never ever see you again! And you'd come crawling back to him. After dumping your coworker, that is~

Damien

Damien is far more subtle with his yandere tendencies compared to the rest of his brothers. Preferring to act as one would expect a regular person would act with a crush. All the while subtly steering people who might reveal his less than normal infatuation with you away from you.

He wouldn't completely isolate you, no thats far too obvious as a scheme. But Damien definitely encourages you to refer to him when it comes to allowing new people into your life.

All this is to say, Damien wouldn't allow this relationship you have with your coworker to get past the first date. After you come home and sit down to tell him all about the date, he scans your thoughts on the date so that he can steer the conversation to go how he wants it to.

And with Damien encouraging you to talk about all the parts of the date and coworker you disliked, it's easy to get lost in the conversation. Especially with him focusing on his "observations" of the coworker, ones that are really only the negatives of the date you thought of. Damien leads you directly to the conclusion that he most wants, for you to never see that person again.

---

- .... . ... . / -... --- -.-- ... / .- .-. . / .- .-.. .-.. / .--. . .-. ..-. . -.-. - / -... --- -.-- ..-. .-. .. . -. -.. ... .-.-.- / -.-- --- ..- / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. / -.. .- - . / - .... . -- / .- .-.. .-.. .-.-.- / .-.. . - .----. ... / -- .- -.- . / - .... .. ... / - .-. --- .--. . / .- / .-. . .- .-.. .. - -.-- --..-- / -.-- --- ..- / -.. . .-.. .. -.-. .. --- ..- ... / -- --- .-. - .- .-..

... .. --. -. . -.. ████████

[pantheon-god-of-war]

If possible, are there any Pantheon skins that you wish to be Canon?

Just give us a Legendary The Warrior skin of Pantheon reborn.

Lore wise it could be after the Ruination. Atreus has expelled Pantheon from his body with his own gritty resolve, Pantheon requires a vessel to take form in mortal shape but the war of the Ruination has caused so much havoc and strengthened him so much that he manages to keep a corporal form for a brief while. He retreats to the peak of Targon and to spite Atreus revives his long-dead friend Pylas to possess and mold his flesh to the war gods needs. Pantheon is fully in control because Pylas has long since died, only using the body himself.

Now Pantheon pursues the interests of Targon and his own dark desires while Atreus tries to actively counter the War god. Both will still fight the darkin, but for different reasons. Pantheon will do so because they threaten Targon Prime and Atreus does so to save the humans that's would undoubtedly die in the wake of the darkin.

VOICELINES

Pantheon differs from Atreus in a few key aspects (heh) where Atreus is noble and stalwart, Pantheon is deliberate and ruthless, where Atreus anger towards the gods is a cold and determined hate Pantheon's contempt for mortals, darkin and all those who would face him is clearly made evident, he speaks with pride, being condescending to everyone he encounters, thirsting for another challenge to vanquish. His LoR voice lines already highlight his personality quite well and I think the sound effects work perfectly for him, that could all be ported from LoR into league to replicate the sound effect. Voice line wise he could have interactions with the following:

Pantheon (Atreus) - While Pantheon does not outright hate Atreus like let's say Aatrox for example he sees the mortal man as a failure of a warrior, knowing only defeat his entire life. Interactions would be more condescending.

Ascended Pantheon - Here Pantheon would see Ascended Atreus as a worthy challenge, something along the lines of "Perhaps now you can prove yourself worthy." Or something more condescending. "No matter the cosmic might you hold, you will always be a mortal."

Aatrox - He loathes Aatrox with a passion for what he did to him, but also realizes that the Darkin might be his only true equal combat-wise.

Leona - Pantheon would be fond of Leona, applaud her for her fine work, call her the daughter of Targon, and that the sun is proud of what she has wrought upon the Mountain. He would tell her that she is right, that she needs to defend her people from the coming darkness and not grow careless upon her golden throne. He would support the militaristic order of the Solari and goad on their zealous witch hunt as in the end all he cares about is war and the more carnage Leona causes on the mountain in the name of the sun, the stronger he gets.

Diana - Diana is the same as Leona, he would tell her to keep fighting, to hold on and think of her people. That he can see the cracks in the Solari foundation and that soon the moon will triumph. Much like Leona, these are sweet lies to goad both of them onward to fight harder and grow more reckless in their pursuit of victory.

Taric - Taric is the antithesis to Pantheon, championing love and life against his war and hate, He would call out Taric and try to kill the noble hero because he spits on the ideals Taric protects.

Soraka - Pantheon would be disappointed in Soraka, to have forsaken the stars for these mortals, he would never understand and while he is not hostile he also tells her that she is dead to him. Just another mortal.

Zoe - He would want to know how Zoe sealed the Darkin away, and if there is a way to make them disappear forever. He would also be annoyed by her childish appearance/demeanor since Myisha was a lot more mature than Zoe.

Aurelion Sol - He would remind Aurelion Sol that with his return the tether locking him to Targon grows stronger again. It has been Pantheon for ages to bind Aurelion to Targon and now with him returned Pantheon will make sure Aurelion is put back in his place.

Other Darkin - He would simply tell them that their end is nigh, that Pantheon has found them, and that they are about to expire.

Other Gods/Demi Gods - here it depends on how many interactions would be wanted, he could comment on the powers of the sun disc being borrowed from the Sun/Solari/Leona's aspect or challenge Volibear to a fight. Lots more here if interactions need to be stretched out.

Sion - Pantheon looks kindly on Sion, a beast revived for war, its very humanity dull and eroded where only violence and anger remain. Pantheon would call Sion his champion of War and tell him to go slaughter in the name of war.

Other Warriors (Garen/Tryndamere/Darius/Olaf/etc) He would salute them and challenge them to combat, noting how a death at his feet is the greatest honor they can wish for.

A cool idea for VO would be that he gets a Taunt like normal champs but then you get different voice lines for ally champions when you hit taunt.

Example

Enemy Pantheon - "Atreus, you come before me again, with my very own spear. Kneel boy. A dog should recognize it's better."

Ally Pantheon - "You feel the power, let loose Atreus, show me your rage and perhaps you will be worthy of my favor."

Enemy Aatrox - "Another one of your flesh puppets for me to rend Aatrox? Pathetic!"

Ally Aatrox - "You and me against them?! Who can stand against Aspect AND Darkin?"

Enemy Leona - "You say you burn as the sun does! So then, show me your fire girl!"

Ally Leona - "The daughter of Targon and War eternal who could hope to stand against such a phalanx of spear, sword, and shield?"

I always wanted to have more interaction with allies, since you only see enemy champions every now and then, and even if you do they mostly attack you and never let you enjoy the interactions. Whereas if you play with friends you can actually enjoy this content of ally interaction. Idk why Riot has not done this before.

MODEL

The base design doesn't have to differ so much from the Legends of Runeterra Warrior design. (KEEP IT RED) Red stands for hot-headed aggression, red stands for fire, red stands for blood. Red is a color much more fitting to war than blue and the argument that Pantheon's cape is blue to show his allegiance with the stars is null and void since LoR showed us all HOW GOOD red looks on Pantheon. It fits so much better.

Some small tweaks here and there perhaps but overall the base model looks great. If the cape would be longer and more flowing like Yoric it would be great, aside from that there could be small visual design changes for reaching levels 6/11/16. Also as a longtime Pantheon main I really love the aesthetic of his face being shrouded, I dislike the new post rework Pantheon skins for that very reason. Pulsefire, Ruined and even Ascended Pantheon are all marred by the face that they show his face, when his facelessness was something that made him stand out. In this skin he should absolutely not have a face since he is a divine being that helmet should be his face, the face of war, nothing else.

The colors get brighter and hotter, to signal that Pantheon is getting supercharged with the psychic energies of war, colors would go from red-orange to bright yellow, additionally, the number of spears in his cape could also increase from 2/4/6 at levels 6/11/16 with small edits like the passive fire on spear and shield and the fire plume increasing in sizes slightly.

ADDITIONALLY

There could be a number of smaller tweaks to make the VFX stand out. Like pulling a new spear from his cape after Pantheon throws it. Or that Pantheon doesn't even throw the main spear but shoots a spear forward from his cape as he can manifest them. Voicelines like "Unstoppable, War eternal an Invincible!" could be added to his E whenever he uses it as if he mocks whoever dares attack him. "Here mortal, or just Heel!" when he stuns you.

His ult could be Pantheon coming straight down where the spear lands, instead of in an angle, and the angle is then covered by either a spear storm or meteorite shards. The straight-down Pantheon landing being a homage to Grand Skyfall. He does not land sooner and he still shoots down a spear first, but this time he just lands from above.

As for the dance, either you give him some workout to flex on people or you give him the Ricardo Milos dance. Which let's be honest, everyone wants to see.

Lore wise I think Pantheon is very important. Currently, we have Pantheon (Atreus) Diana and Taric who are all outright heroes. Aphelios serves under Diana and Zoe does not really care she does whatever she wants. Soraka while a hero lives secluded. Targon only has Leona as a villain and the celestial Pantheon would fill that slot very well. He is the god of war, he would try to rouse them all against one another and also give them a reason to unite against him. To fight together, and perhaps even be incentive enough for Leona and Diana to lay down their weapons and join forces.

Additionally, all it takes is a skin to create a champion's worth of impact on the league universe. There doesn't need to be a new champion from Targon to push the narrative forward which means less time that needs to be invested on Riots part.

Thank you for your time, I will be sitting here on my mountain top, waiting and hoping that I started a fire.

[askaceattorney]

Dear Asexual-Deesasters,

Mod Edgeworth: 

If you want to know the answer to that question, go to this link.

Dear Skibot99,

Co-Mod: I’m fairly certain it was The Mod, but I don’t know for sure.  He actually had another one before it, made from an old Ace Attorney musical animation.  I haven’t been able to locate that video, unfortunately, but here’s the old banner:

Ah...  Those were good days.  Good days.

Dear Dawsongfg,

Co-Mod: It’s fine.  Besides, it won’t be too long before those letters are accepted, so maybe we’ll hold onto them until that time.

Dear skibot99 again,

Mod Edgeworth: The Lost Turnabout hands down. All logic is thrown out the window the moment Phoenix had amnesia. It’s clear the Judge knew something was wrong with Phoenix, so why didn’t he call for a recess or check on Phoenix? Not to mention Wellington was annoying. He’s probably the only character I would be hesitant to play as when answering letters, if only because he was so unbearable.

As for Turnabout Ablaze, I do agree that it is a drag to get through in the end, though the entire game of AAI was boring, aside from the game mechanics. As a case by itself, I wouldn’t put it as my least favorite, if only because I did get some funny parts out of it.  It also contributed to the overall story, whereas The Lost Turnabout could just be taken out and it wouldn’t effect the overarching plot.

Co-Mod: I’d probably have to go with Turnabout Big Top.  I honestly couldn’t figure out the part where you have to present Max’s poster without consulting a walkthrough.  Why couldn’t we just present Max himself?  Besides that, the ending was largely underwhelming -- the murder weapon was hidden under Acro’s blanket the entire time, but instead of seeing a screenshot of it there, we just have to imagine it.  Maybe it was a filler case, but that was no excuse for it to end so poorly.  Not to mention one of the witnesses was a literal puppet.

It’s hard truth, Trilo.  Live with it.

Dear skibot99 and Anonymous,

Mod Edgeworth: I… think I heard from her when the localization of DGS was announced? I know Mod Kristoph and Mod Maya introduced themselves when I came into the group. There’s a third person, but I only heard from her once. As for what’s going on with her… I don’t know.

As for the flooding the inbox, it’s fine. I won’t promise a letter or two won’t be deleted, but we may make an exception and I’d hardly consider 4-5 different letters flooding the inbox. However, I do highly suggest lowering your letter sending to no more than three a day to prevent deletion of your letters. The only time I’d say your letters are flooding the inbox is when you’re sending 10-20 of them, especially of the same letter, and we have to scroll down for a while to get to the next letter. We will only choose three out of that pile and delete the rest.

And yes, we do have a few that send us 10-20 of the same letter to multiple characters in the span of five minutes. Geez.

Co-Mod: Mod Paups has had to remain absent for personal reasons, and sadly, has recently communicated to me that she wishes to leave the blog entirely.  Thanks for all you’ve contributed to this blog, Mod Paups, and best of luck in whatever you do next!

(Referenced Letter)

Dear mungeondaster,

Mod Edgeworth: Since I answered this one, I shall answer your letter.

(^ Why do I always use this sprite? ^) Actually, the localization never specified if Manfred Von Karma was born in Germany or not. In fact, we never knew the German part until Justice For All when Franziska Von Karma was stated to have flown all the way from Germany. It never specifies any reason for this and fans were quick to jump to the conclusion that it means the Von Karma family were German, which… isn’t entirely true? Manfred Von Karma never said he lived in Germany and, for all we know, Franziska could’ve lived in Germany to study law or something.

Now, the OG does give us more specific detail on this, being why I answered this the way I did. In the OG, both Von Karma’s were born Japanese, but lived in America or at least have an estate there. It specified that they were originally born in Japan, which would be translated to LA, California in the localization. While using the OG canon isn’t normal here, I will use it, if the localization doesn’t specify things. In this case, it never specified if the Von Karma’s were born in Germany or if Manfred Von Karma lived in America. Since he had to wait out the Statue of Limitations for DL-6, we can assume he lived in LA for 15 years or more. That means he’s American.

I am still getting the hang of writing letters, but I try to stick to canon as much as possible. If you believe we’ve made an error in our letters, feel free to let us know, but also show proof, if we go against canon. We’ll be sure the letter is sent to the right mod or else fix it.

Dear  Bluedragoncody,

Mod Edgeworth: I... don’t know how to feel about that.

Also, I accidentally deleted your previous letter before this one when trying to post it on here. I’m so sorry about that. If you could remember it, would you send it again?

Co-Mod: I’ll just respond to this with an old classic:

Dear Aceattorneyismyjam,

Mod Edgeworth: I-I’m not a pro! I accidentally deleted an important mod question from bluedragoncody, because of my inexperience. Oof! Again, so sorry!

Granted, I am good with digital art and writing essays, but I’m still trying to get the hang of being a mod here. Believe me, I do get corrected on several mistakes I do here. I can’t really call myself a pro just yet. I’ve only just started becoming a mod here last month lol

Dear Dahlia,

Mod Edgeworth: I thank you for your support of this blog and my essay. Manfred Von Karma is also my favorite villain and someone I do feel is underestimated as a one dimensional villain. I think people hate him so much, because of how he ruined Miles Edgeworth’s life without looking at the bigger picture. They focus on the bad things with their black colored glasses without dissecting Manfred Von Karma’s character as a whole. 

One thing I love about this blog, even before becoming a mod, is that no one here ever portrayed Manfred Von Karma as the one dimensional villain. He can be snappy at times, but as proven in many of our previous letters, he’s also portrayed as being calm when threatened, polite at times and absolutely loves his wife and children. Yes, he’s a terrible person, but that’s what makes him so interesting. He’s a bad, evil person that does good things from time to time. It doesn’t justify any of his horrible deeds, murder included, but it does make him human.

Co-Mod: I’m...going to assume you’re a different Dahlia.  (I’m grabbing a Magatama of Parting just in case, though.  I’m sure you can understand.)

Anyway, thanks for being such a loyal follower!  This blog’s been through a lot of changes since it began, and since I joined it back in 2017, so I’m glad it’s still a good source of enjoyment for you.  I’ve seen all sorts of cringe by now, by the way (some of which I wrote myself), so don’t worry about it.

I’m also glad that the characters still sound like themselves and not like us.  The hilarious personalities and quirks given to them by Capcom’s writers, as well as the humanity in so many of them, make them easy to relate to, and thus fairly easy to mimic.  I may have said something like this before, but I see myself in a lot of them -- in Athena’s fear of inadequacy, in Apollo’s desire for justice in a world where it’s hard to find, in Sebastian’s confusion about where to go next after his world falls apart, and possibly even in the von Karmas’ desire for perfection.  I of course identify with their positive feelings as well -- Phoenix’s smugness when he gets things right, Athena’s joy after pulling off a victory in court, Adrian’s pride after her self-confidence is restored, etc. -- but there’s something about the struggles they face that make them easier to relate to, on top of being that much more awesome in the end.

Unfortunately, I can’t promise anything about this blog continuing on in perpetuity.  For one thing, I don’t plan on being around forever (I’m fairly certain the other Mods don’t, either), and for that matter, there’s also no telling how long Tumblr will be around.  All I can promise is that I’ll give my best while I’m here, and that the love from you and everyone else who shares it here is sure to be what keeps us going.  Thank you for your contribution!

Dear TurqouiseJavelin,

Mod Edgeworth: Hm... not bad ideas. Though, we mods choose our own mod names under the condition that it doesn’t match anyone else’s mod name.

Co-Mod: What Mod Edgeworth said.  Choosing the name “Mod Athena” may or may not increase your chances of being hired, though.  *wink, wink*

Dear Anonymous, 

Mod Edgeworth: Actually, Gregory was stated in the Autopsy to have died by a gunshot. However, you do bring up something interesting. If Gregory Edgeworth realized he was dead and last remembered Robert Hammond strangling him, he wouldn’t think “I died by the shot of a gun.” Since the Detectives weren’t aware that victim had died unconscious, they’d assume the victim would recall being shot and killed. This makes me wonder if Gregory Edgeworth was channeled, but never brought to court to be cross-examined.

There are still holes, but I do like your aspect on DL-6.

Co-Mod: Dang...  No matter how many times you come back to this game, there’s always something new to think about.  I honestly hadn’t considered those details about Yanni Yogi’s trial.  Your explanation makes the most sense to me, but there’s one other possibility regarding Gregory’s testimony -- he may have chosen to lie about who murdered him in order to protect his son from a murder charge.  That’s all open to interpretation, of course, so your guess is as good as ours.

It’s a good thing we’re not actual defense attorneys, huh?

-The Mods

[thesilentem0]

👀👀👀👀✨✨

OH MY FUCKING GOD, YESSSS!!!

THIS IS PERFECTION

ABSOLUTELY PERFECT

WAITWAITWAIT

Then that means the unreality puppets and the trio puppets are there... then that makes Mortibitch suffering even BETTER

And Yes, the new nickname of Canon Mortimer is Mortibitch

because he is such an ASSHOLE AND A B I T C H .

For the weapons tho... 👀👀👀

OMG guys if this post gets 10 likes I'll write a one shot where Unreality Mortimer kills/beats up Canon Mortimer!

(this is a joke, I'll probably do it regardless sjdjxkskskksskk)

[classysmashy]

Into Each Life...

#3/??? of Nuclear Winter

ZoNa Holiday 2020 Entry Prompt 3 (Ornaments / Tradition)

@zonamievents

One Piece in Fallout Universe (kinda~)  [I do not own One Piece or Fallout]

AN: There was something in particular I wanted to convey about Nami with this one, but after this there will definitely be more Zoro. So, I have ideas of how to explain the devil fruits, fishmen/mermaids, and sky natives into the Fallout universe for this and it’s pretty exciting. I don’t know when I might try to get into moments to explaining them out, but I might do future chapters (after the holiday event is over) to do flashbacks that put key moments into this universe since this is supposed to take place six years after Luffy originally started his journey. If I do these, I might build up a wayyy longer chapter for those moments to try and keep them from taking away from the main story being focused later in the timeline compared to the past. Again, sorry for this being late, I had my ideas for these, but it was a matter of putting everything into the words I wanted. The original Fallout 1 and 2 games had much darker themes than the newer ones and I want to try and incorporate that, but not too heavy outright.<3

Rated: T for Blood, Heavy Violence, Suggestive Themes

Word Count: 4,379

*****

Ever since she was younger, Nami understood that bad things must happen for the good times to come rolling in. That was the second lesson she had learned from the death of Bellemere. The first lesson had been that she had to keep living, for being alive meant something, even when you don’t necessarily know just what that something is.

A part of her wanted to rip the world to shreds for the death of Bellemere and believed Arlong deserved the most cruelest, torturing death for the crimes he had committed to her hometown. And for so long Nami lived with that spite building inside of her, brimming over the top at times and causing her to lash out upon herself.

The first time she went wild with her anger, it happened while she had been visiting Nojiko and storing away some of the money she had stolen. Nami had lost it in a fit of rage, putting her fist through a flower vase, the broken ceramic cutting at the skin of her hand, and smashed up the kitchen table with one of the dinning chairs.

It was during those times that Nojiko started making sure Nami was voicing herself to the older sister, since bottling those feelings away inside was destroying Nami each time she felt helpless. 

Nami never cried though. She would get angry, break things, lie about being happy, but she would never let the full extent of the misery hiding inside to be released out for anyone to see. 

This had went on through the years, her deceiving charms becoming her main weapon to steal from unsuspecting raiders —after she had gotten used to their behavior and could trick them to not shoot at her. Eventually, the most normal occurrence seemed to be stumbling on the newer recruits of the raiders to swindle, stealing their money and valuables to sell.

Those years of experiences is what had paid off when she met Luffy that very first time in Orange Town, the idiot so unaware of what people could do to those who were too naïve. Nami used him like a puppet to gather up Buggy’s recent escapade of cash and stash, but had felt horrible when it seemed the guy was going to be killed, and that was another first time for her. Quickly, her fingers had already reached out to stop the refashioned canon from shooting at Luffy locked up in a cage. 

He seemed to make his mind up about Nami in that moment as well as the rest of Buggy’s men who were racing onto her form, ready to slash and make her one with the wasteland. 

Yet, that death never came back then. 

And that was how Nami met Zoro the first time, her back to him, clutching onto a lit string, and him with all of his swords out to stop the fighters in their tracks. 

That one moment in time seemed to set off a chain reaction. Zoro was constantly the one saving Nami from danger during their travels together, always seeming to run his lost feet right to where she was in need of help.

Robin passed on a comment to her about the action when he still seemed to find himself saving her randomly after all of them reunited. “If Zoro has no sense of direction, possibly it means his internal compass is set wrong. And I believe that internal compass is set to find you when you’re in danger, hm? It’s only a small theory, but one that holds merit with the actions he has presented.” The small chuckle Robin had hid after walking away from Nami and leaving the girl with just that, still echoed her mind.

All along through the years of being with the Strawhats, there did seem to be something odd about how often Nami and Zoro seemed to be thrown together when the two had clearly been offsets to one another, ideologies varying drastically and causing constant arguments between the two. The fighting between them had begun to die down some when they all came back together after two years. 

Whether it was because of herself or Zoro, she had never picked up on. The swordsman didn’t even seem to end up around her much at first, but when they were together he had seemed so... calm. Zoro had a different air around him, everyone did, and the way Zoro seemed to change had put him at ease about what his true mission was now with being a part of the crew. 

Protector. Zoro decided during the time apart that he was and had to be the one who was the full protector of the crew, of Luffy’s dream, and carry the burden of keeping everyone alive. The idiot became ready to throw his life down just to keep the others safe.

Nami had been pissed off by it.

A protector in her mind would never let themselves die so easily, never give up on their own dream like that, wouldn’t throw everything away in a blink of an eye.

But, that was exactly what Bellemere had done for her and Nojiko.

When she realized how much Zoro was becoming like Bellemere in that sense, she avoided him and kept distance between the two. Frightened. She had been frightened imagining the crew going through a death like that, Zoro’s death. And it was the pain she imaged Luffy had felt after their initial break apart when Ace died.

Losing Zoro would be hard, as a close friend and even worse on the dynamics of all the Strawhats. It was her realization of this that had brought on their first fight since everyone got back together.

During one of his nightly workouts while on watch, Nami had stormed Zoro and began questioning him about if he planned to roll over and die. 

To say the least, he was stunned at Nami for it, and he lashed back with his own yelling. Damn if it woke anyone up on the ship, the woman was talking mad.

Zoro would yell about how it was impossible for him to die so soon and he wasn’t giving up on his life that easily and Nami would yell back with how he had changed his philosophy, that she wondered if he truly wanted to be the greatest swordsman throughout the wasteland still. The moment she had brought his dream into question, he cuffed her wrists above her head and pushed her body up the wall, leaving her feet dangling off the floor. 

 Before, she had been frightened about his death, but this was the first time she was actually scared of Zoro’s actions. Her breathe had been caught in her throat and leaving her speechless as Zoro closed in around her, caging Nami upon the wall with a deadly look in his eye. The look that most experienced just moments away from him bringing great pain into the life of his enemies.

“I don’t question you about your dream, why question me about mine? You don’t know a damn thing about me right now through that clouded gaze of yours. Die? I’m not planning to go anywhere, so get used to it, witch.”

If anyone were to ask her about it, Nami would deny the fact that there had been a small heat that swallowed her insides when Zoro hung her out to dry then.

He seemed to gather some wits about the predicament he had placed both of them into, releasing Nami to stand back on her feet and turning away again to his weights. 

Zoro had promptly ignored her for the rest of the night, even as she burnt holes into his back until the wee hours of the morning.

*****

Winter was always harsh back home, even before Bellemere had been murdered. The income for the family would dry up as the mikan trees couldn’t bear fruit during the cold season and had to be watched over carefully. That also meant the family dinners would be kept small and that Christmas presents for little Nami and Nojiko would be drastically different compared to the kids of the rest of the villagers living in the town.

Nami was always rougher during winter, making a comment every single day about how Bellemere had to be upset about raising them and them eating up all of her money and time. Bellemere simply ignored it though, until spring would finally break the clouds above and Nami would drop the subject of money from her mind.

She couldn’t be upset about the traditions that Nami held for winter, just as Nojiko became more clingy and stuck to Bellemere’s side when winter rolled around. 

There were many traditions that the little family held together with their heartstrings on the line. Like how Nami and Nojiko would bake a tiny cake that would cut into four adequate pieces, how Bellemere would bake up the pretty ham Genzo brought over, how the four of them gathered together in a pray that Genzo asked of them to do around the food before eating. 

Four people just enjoying being together for another year, smiling and laughing for the whole day without any issues. Christmas was the one day that fighting wasn’t allowed, the day was to be sweet and jovial with nothing weighing down on the bright mood. 

But, the good times had came to an end after Arlong showed up.

Many people throughout Cocoyashi had stopped celebrating any holiday all together, in favor of saving up that bit of extra money to pay for their keep the next time Arlong’s goonies came to collect. Genzo would rest a slice of ham and pour a bottle of booze over Bellemere’s grave. Nojiko would spend time out with the mikan trees and would take the very last one of the year to Bellemere’s grave, returning on Christmas day and talking with her through the night about Nami. 

And Nami would stay away from home until only a few days were left of the year. There was a guilt that Nami carried for giving herself up to Arlong that she couldn’t shake off and she never wanted to disrupt a nice day for Bellemere, so she waited for the holiday to pass before making her own visit with a bouquet of flowers.

Each time she wanted to cry out, bawl until the ground became so wet it would sink beneath her and swallow her whole with the grass and mud and dirt, bringing Nami to be one with Bellemere’s body beneath. 

But she wouldn’t let those tears fall down, she would recap the bottle on her heart even tighter and chug down bottles of whiskey and vodka until her throat burned too much and passed out. Maybe, it was because of Christmas that Nami had developed her tolerance over time, each year drinking more and more and  pushing out how long it would take to reach the tipping point.

Things became different around Christmas after joining up with Luffy and Zoro in Orange Town.

As the crew built up more and more, the holiday came around just before they had reached Sabaody Archipelago the first time, and they had stopped for a few days to celebrate together.

It was a weird time for all of them. The only ones who was close to having a proper Christmas in the past years was Chopper and Franky, Chopper because of him living in the cold climate that was constantly set in Christmassy time and Franky because of how his “family” would booze it up and gamble money off together on the holiday.

Nami knew that Robin hadn’t celebrated the holiday in her life nor had Zoro either, Sanji didn’t count into having celebrated since the Baratie only had special Christmas dinners for customers and not actually anything for themselves. Usopp didn’t get to celebrate as a kid with his mom sick and nobody wanted him around during their Christmas dinner because of his lies, which would leave him all alone. Luffy had actually never told them if he had celebrated before and Brook was so old that he forgotten about the last time he had a Christmas, so it was a restart for him.

The whole thing went well though, super in fact, as Franky liked to put it. 

 Sanji cooked a feast after him, Zoro, and Luffy had a hunting contest. Franky couldn’t find any lights, but cut a tree down for them to settle around. Nami, Robin, and Chopper would work on cutting up fabric to hang around the place they were hunkered in to make the scene just a bit more festive. Usopp had been the one to tell all the jokes and stories that gave everyone hearty laughs and looks of disbelief as they ate and drank. Brook would be playing Christmas tunes on his violin through the nights, whisking them to sleep with the beautiful melodies.

That was their first time celebrating Christmas all together and after being apart two years, when Christmas rolled back around, they did it again. This time more people were celebrating with them, Jinbe, Law, people that Luffy had dragged into his life deciding that from this time onward, they were his friends whether they liked it or not.

Those traditions built of being together as a family of friends were beautiful and she would look forward to when the time would come and she would be able to get actual gifts together for all of them.

*****

A cool, wetness dragged across the skin of her cheek, the dishrag scratching at the blood splatters covering her face. Another one was wiping away at the blood all over her hands, gently tugging between fingers and nails to remove the evidence of the crimes that just happened.

Zoro’s bracelet was still on her wrist, the gold tainted by brahmin blood that had collected inside of the gold plates that hung from it. 

Nami’s eyes were out of focus, a blur of frames moving at turtle speed, unable to look at the two men cleaning her. But she didn’t need to see properly to know the horrifying sight laying out before her on the highway. 

Like cattle to the slaughter, they had been leaving Sabaody when hell broke loose, a rainfall of bullets scattered down, two dozen gunners giving their hiding places up. There was screams that came from a few of them about how Nami and the settlers had killed their friends so now it was time for revenge.

Nami had ducked away behind a car, a bullet hitting straight into her left shoulder and as she hit the deck, she realized there was a sliced up body impaled on metal poles along this stretch of highway. 

The settler she had sent back first had his body torn apart, limb for limb, with each one stabbed through with the metal poles. His torso had a metal chain shoved through it and tied to the poles with his arms, lifting it up for crows and bloodbugs to get their pickings in. The most disgusting part was the short metal pipe shoved into a right angle down what was left of his throat and his head had been decapitated to screw the settler’s head onto the pipe and making the pipe poke out of his right eye, mouth left open in a scream, and Nami wondered how much of the torture he was alive for.

Just from the sight of him, it was clear that there was no hope left for them.

One by one, the three settlers left succumbed to the bullets, unable to get away in time, and the screams of pain would probably haunt Nami’s nightmares for years to come. The poor brahmin came to run and hide with Nami, but it was brought to the ground when her back right leg was shot off and the brahmin fell with moos and groans of agony.

It was a pitiful sight and made her heart ache as hot tears slid down her jaw. She kicked herself up, bringing out a boot knife to stab into both of the skulls of the brahmin, giving the girl the peace she deserved, the noises silencing and chest growing still. The oozing blood from the brahmin sliding around on her hands when she shut the eyes of the animal.

A swarm of four gunners were suddenly on Nami’s body, guns beating into her flesh, and preventing her from doing anything to get out of their grip. She felt one of the male gunners swipe his hand over the front of Zoro’s jacket that was zipped to the top, his hand close to grabbing a full feel of her breast.

When a slash of a sword cut him in half, body sliding off of itself and spurting blood all over her body, and it was going to be over quickly now, she had decided.

Luffy was running headfirst at the rest of the gunners on the highway, she could hear the screams from them, the impact of the blows suffered by Luffy’s strength, and the flops to the ground in their death.

Before her was Zoro, a wicked glint to his eye, slashing away over and over and over again at the gunners that had surrounded her. Nami watched as his focus shifted to be on the one who had planned to assault her, puke rising and burning her throat as she watched him chop the gunner into pieces.

And into more pieces. Blood pouring out over the concrete, running over her shoes, splashing on her face and body.

Nami remembered that stare, from that night on his watch when she had set him ablaze with anger. Blood was everywhere. Everywhere.

The more the two went at it with their brutal strength, Nami retreated into herself, shaking uncontrollably and losing sense of what was going on around her. She didn’t want to see them like this, it wasn’t the matter of being scared, but seeing what Luffy and Zoro were capable of reminded her of rougher days in her early life.

Every time Zoro went for such a grotesque kill, she had the image in her mind of seeing the smoking gun in Arlong’s hand. The way Bellemere’s body caved in on itself, shoes flying in the air, the black ring of hole left in her forehead and more smoke pouring out. Bellemere’s blood had ended up on her face in that moment, as well as on Nojiko. 

Just like now. The blood from each cut and stab Zoro produced was in close proximity to her, painting her. It was too much for her senses to handle and her eyes slid shut, hiding away from the massacre.

Luffy and Zoro would always be a deadly pair together. More so than Sanji could ever hope to achieve by teaming up with the two because Sanji had his limits to how far he would go while Luffy and Zoro didn’t. This was especially true in the case of something involving all of their friends, but the two had also made it clear that they wouldn’t take anything happening to Nami and would act like this.

Right now, Usopp was properly working with Franky with what could be spared to decorated until the new materials got back to the settlement. Robin and Chopper would be preparing gift ideas for the boys who would have no clue about what to get. Sanji would be placing in orders for different ingredients and checking stock for the dinner. Brook would be cleaning and tuning instruments, deciding the order of the classic songs and writing his own. Jinbe would be picking up the slack that anyone needed and making sure people were getting done what needed to be. Law was probably trying to figure out a way to run and how long he might be able to hide out before Luffy found him.

Some time passed ever so slowly. Nami pushed out the noise of gushing blood and gurgles of pleading by placing her mind somewhere else.

A week and half would be Christmas, by this much time having passed, the tradition during this time was to be preparing for the Strawhats Christmas celebration. 

“People should stick to their traditions.” Luffy was the one to be dead-set in making Christmas happen every year. It wasn’t like this world really called for the holiday, the world was too destroyed for the majority to have the time to think on the holidays. 

Luffy was the one wiping the blood from her hands. A weird sight to see him so calm, but it was soothing to know the captain cared to be careful of the discomfort that radiated from Nami’s body.

Zoro cupped her chin with one hand and the other was cleaning the blood away from her face. She wondered if he realized the effect his skills had on her and not the good effect. Well, it was good to know he could keep her safe, yet there was a fear of what the man held inside.

He probably contained his own anger at times, like Nami did as a kid, and that anger led to who he became today. When Nami went the cunning route to counter what happened in her life, Zoro had built up a steady resistance in him and strength to demolish whatever stepped in his path again.

The two of them, Luffy and Zoro, they were made for this world, created for this wasteland. The two could survive without issue, it wasn’t the same as to how Nami’s main way to protect herself was by tricking the enemies or standing beside people for safety, rarely she could survive by her own hands, though during their past travels she had been better at it than now.

This was the wasteland.

A brutal and bloody mess, normal humans sent into a world of monsters and having to become monsters themselves to survive. The raiders were drove to drugs and insanity. Gunners fighting for the hell of it and for the money. Super mutants had been normal humans, subjected to experiments to make them into the monsters they were. The brahmin and radstag were normal animals in a lost world, now they were their own monsters by being mashed with one of their own breed, two cows and two deers forced into twins. The ghouls were normal people as well, the radiation seeping into their bodies so much that their skin was now papier-mache and slowly rotting their brains. Domesticated robots having codes changed to murder on sight, new robots created as pure killing machines. Synths would be used to kidnap the normal humans and replace them, driving fear into every single person that no one could truly be trusted. 

Just as Luffy had created traditions that they would all follow at their home, the wasteland had its own traditions.

If you can’t kill, you get killed.

Lately, Nami had been spending time out and about, but it had been nearly a year since the last time she went out before getting the feral ghoul blood with Zoro. She had grown so used to the setting of being inside walls and being away from reality. 

The life being built was worth the payoff, but it was destructive for her wellbeing.

“Nami,” Zoro’s lips were pressing at the skin behind her ear, Luffy had clasped their fingers together and circled her legs. “Where are you?” She turned into Zoro’s warmth and felt her eyes shaking.

The promise to Bellemere was that she wouldn’t cry. Nami broke that when she asked the first time for help against Arlong. A high rule for herself was broken because of the trust she had gained in all of her friends.

“Why are you here?” She bit the tears down, she did trust them, but now wasn’t the time to reveal all of the trouble inside.

“Mm, materials for Franky, lots of money, stories to look into...” She needed to hurry up and move on, get the bag of materials for Franky down from what was left of the settlers torso and go forward, not backwards. She needed to be away from her own head.

“It doesn’t matter,” Luffy said, catching onto Nami’s eyes and holding her gaze, “Did the trade go well?” Distraction, don’t think about this if it’s taking a toll on you, gather yourself.

Zoro tore away her hand from Luffy, lifting it to see the cleaned bracelet jingle against her wrist. “It looks better than I thought it would.” A smile stretched on his lips, pressing them into the skin just beneath her palm with a hum. “Your heartbeat is starting to even out, that’s good. You don’t have to be scared.”

He knew, of course he knew. The swordsman could always read her at nearly any given moment, only missing at certain times, that was part of the dynamic that Usopp would never understand. 

If she had half a mind of her normal senses right now, Nami would say that the two had been following along around her or ahead of her for a reason. The fact that Shakky said they went to the bar and the fact that they had been here to save her now.

Everything was everywhere in her mind, lost in a state of confusion she still couldn’t break.

Why had she been thinking so much about the past? Why did she have such bad luck to get the people she was supposed to protector murdered instead? Why, why, why?

Nami was spinning, she wasn’t sure if her body was even actually moving, she could barely make out Zoro saying something about her heartbeat, her pumping blood.

White. The sky was white, all the blue drained away and the sun hidden deep in the clouds. Snow was trickling down in shimmers, slow and unsure of the places that they wanted to stick to.

Nami’s breathing had increased, she had to be hyperventilating, her mind numbly noting the change.

Both Zoro and Luffy’s faces flooded her sight, their mouths were moving, but she didn’t hear a word. Then her eyelids slid closed and she felt the darkness flood her.

[creativeskullcreations]

Outside chapter 20: Hosts, Awaken

Whoops, Hosts are awake and everyone's starting to group up. And Scout's not as good of an actress as she thinks. Even if she'd been better at controlling her Host, she may never have been able to really join the Handeemen...

And we also see a look at Will's really like. He hides it well, with medication and acting, but what happened when he was a child scarred him mentally. Or maybe it didn't...

Will came to while horizontal, muffled voices above him as he struggled his way back to consciousness. He curled his left hand into a fist, faintly startled when he found he couldn't feel his right hand. He ignored it, however, as the voices began to get clearer.

"-and it is no trouble at all to remove you!" Someone, a woman, was saying. "So stay in line and remember to rhyme!"

"Yes ma'am." A younger sounding voice to the right mumbled. It wasn't in rhyme, but the first voice accepted the answer.

"Excellent! Now to prepare your Host for orientation! With four at once, maybe it can be a competition." She sounded excited at the prospect, even as Will's blood ran cold. There wasn't an answer, but he could vaguely feel his arm lower and rest against the cold metal table. Something distinctly Scout-shaped laid across his stomach, and it took everything he had to keep his body relaxed.

Footsteps, first going away and then approaching his head. A cool rubber glove pressed almost gently against his chin, tilting his head up. Something tiny, cold, and sharp pressed against his mouth-

Will stared up into the eyes of a startled Riley Ruckus, free hand gripping her arm like a vice as a needle fell beside his throat. For one, infinitely long second, nobody moved. And then Riley's Host reacted as Will slipped his other hand out of his Puppet and grabbed at her throat.

He missed, grabbing her shoulder instead as he rolled off the table, masked Host making a mad grab for where he'd been laying. The smaller puppet fell to the floor as he stood up, giving a deft twist-and-tug that tore the wooded arm apart at the elbow. He tossed it aside as a screech of pain rang out, then dodged as she charged at him.

The Host was clunky, and Will wondered why they even bothered with them when he knew Scout was more agile than that. He watched as they almost tripped over the table, then slammed the Host down onto it. The whole fight took maybe fifteen seconds, if he was being generous.

It took some creativity, and climbing on top of them, but he managed to get both Riley and her Host strapped awkwardly onto the metal slab. Watching her struggle to get free, all he felt was cold rage, the kind he hadn't felt in a long time. A glance around the room showed a wide variety of medical and power tools. One of which was a saw that he picked up.

"Scout told me you liked taking people apart." He told her, voice low and dark. He stepped forward and pinned her still-whole arm down, pulling off her glove and pushing up the sleeve of her lab coat. "I like taking stupidly arrogant Puppets apart." He went to make a move, but paused. He picked up the discarded glove and forced it into her mouth, then picked the bone saw back up.

Canon listened to the muffled screams and cries from where she lay under the table, staring blankly as her mind filled with fear. Soon there was a dull thunk of wood hitting metal, and the screams stopped even as the sawing noise continued. A minute later she watched as Riley's freshly removed arm hit the floor and was kicked away under a metal cabinet. She thought about following it, but felt frozen in place.

The choice was taken from her when her Host leaned down and stared at her. She stared back, neither of them blinking. Eventually he sighed, and reached to pick her up with a surprising gentleness.

"Come on, let's go find the others." He told her quietly, almost cradling her against his chest as he walked out of the lab. "They can't be too far away."

She hoped they never found the others.

-----

Sammy did not like being sober. He liked it even less when carting around a loudmouthed brat with anger issues. And she did. Not. Shut. Up.

"Host! Host! Look. At. Me! Hey! Hey, Host!" He tightened his grip and once again looked for something to tie her up and gag her with. Nope, still nothing. "Hoooooooost!"

"I have a fucking name!" He finally snapped. "And it is not 'Host'!"

"And I don't fucking care." She glared up at him, almost daring him to do something about it.

Sammy groaned. "I need some more weed..." He moaned quietly as he picked his way through the rubble. He would also like nothing more than to chuck the little annoyance away but every time he'd tried he found he just... couldn't.

'Why can't I just be rid of this thing?!' He wondered. 'Maybe it's what made Stacy keep Scout, even though she hates puppets and dolls. I never saw her treat one with such care, not since we were little kids...'

He was brought out of his thoughts by soft fists beating on his arm, and he glared down at the tiny red head. "What now?" He asked, irritated.

She said nothing, just pointed ahead of them. When he looked up, he saw a hulking monster with a yellow sock on one hand. For a heartbeat, nobody moved. And then it charged at them.

"SHIT!" He screeched as he turned and ran down a side corridor. The thing was hot on his heels, and he had no clue how to lose it.

"In there! Gogogogogo!" He turned into the room the Puppet indicated and slammed the door shut behind him, tipping over a nearby shelve to keep it closed. He backed away as the thing banged and smashed against the door, nearly breaking it from the force.

"Holy shit..." He sank to the floor, dropping the Puppet and leaning forward to dry heave. She tugged on his sleeve, pointing towards a door on the opposite end of the room.

"What the hell are you doing?! We've gotta get out of here! Now!"

"Hold on!" He gasped. "I need a minute..."

"We don't have a minute!" A fist smashed through the door, and Sammy scrambled back to his feet. He snatched the Puppet and sprinted out the other door as the monster made it's way into the room, tripping over the shelves. In an instant it was on his ass again, chasing him deeper into the warehouse while his Puppet tried to guide him through the maze like halls.

It was all for naught, however, as he came upon a dead end with a door that was locked.

"Nononono" he chanted as he tried to force it open. The knob wouldn't even turn, however, and he could hear the thing getting closer. Giving up on escape he searched for a weapon, finding a fire axe on a wall. Flinging his Puppet up onto a nearby stack of boxes, he yanked the thing off the wall and turned to face his death.

He raised the weapon over his head, and the door next to him flung open as six loud gunshots rang out. Two of them hit the monster, and it fell dead immediately. Sammy turned to see his savior, and cried out in joy.

"Stacy!" He dropped the axe and pulled her into a hug. "Holy shit thank God, Satan, and everybody else! I thought I was dead!"

His poor cousin looked stressed beyond belief as she laughed out a sigh. "N-no problem." She gave him an awkward pat before he finally released her and grabbed the blue puppet down from the boxes. He saw Stacy's face light up when she spotted the thing, which was odd cause she didn't even look like Scout.

Come to think of it, Stacy was moving weird, too. Like she wasn't used to walking. And she was holding the gun wrong. And her eyes...

He leaned in close to her face, and she stared back in confusion until he spotted what was wrong.

"Your eyes are yellow!" He shouted. "You're Scout!"

"What?! No, shut up!" She tried to cover his mouth, but he dodged her attempts as the Puppet stared up at her.

"Holy shit." She muttered looking between Stacy and Sammy. "Can I do that?"

"No! No you can't don't even try, Bit!" She snapped, and Sammy pointed at her in victory.

"You know it's name! You have to be Scout!" Sammy declared triumphantly, and she finally gave in.

"Fine, yeah, I'm Scout. Stacy's... Stacy's with Mortimer and they're planning something. We need to get everyone out of here! Now!"

"Yeah okay just stop pointing that thing at me." He redirected the gun, then just pulled it out of her hand. "Actually do you have more ammo for this thing? I could use this."

Wordlessly, she pulled a clip out of her pocket and handed it to him. He stared down at it. "... This is the wrong kind of clip."

A few minutes of frantic sorting later and Sammy had two more clips to the pistol. The rest were for other guns that Scout had left behind. His possessed cousin held the fire axe in her hands, as he figured that was better for her to use than the gun. His Puppet, Bit, had settled into the hood of his hoodie and seemed content to stay there.

Scout, meanwhile, had pulled the hood of Stacy's hoodie up to try and hide her eyes, having pulled some hair into her face as well. It didn't hide them completely, but so long as nobody looked too hard her eyes looked green enough. It would at least fool the others for a while.

As she led the way, Sammy took note of her scratching her metal fingers on her flesh arm. Counting back, he wondered when Stacy had last taken her meds. He decided it didn't matter, and sped up enough to walk beside Scout, grabbing her hand in his. Her other hand was holding the axe, so he felt confident she couldn't scratch like that.

She seemed confused, but brushed it off and quickly pulled him down a hallway. They had to find the others, or everyone would be doomed.

-----

Bonzai did not like that his Host was Awake. He especially didn't like that he was being carted around in a box with Stitch, though at least it had given him a chance to untie her. Too bad the box was sealed so they couldn't Jump out, unless they wanted to go straight up.

Above them, their Hosts were talking quietly, but not looking at them specifically. The box was being held by Stitch's Host. 'Good.' Bonzai gathered himself up and aimed. 'That means the box won't drop.sw'

One, two, three, four, on the fifth try he Jumped onto his Host's head, flopping down over is eyes and grabbing blindly anywhere he could. The Host freaked out, yelling and trying to pull him off it's face. Bonzai resisted, though, and instead bit down as hard as he could through the Host's nose.

Sadly for him, blunt, fabric covered teeth are useless against a fully grown human. Mason wasn't even scratched as he ripped the apparently feral Puppet off.

Though tempted to just fling him back into the box as hard as he could, the Host instead held onto the little guy. Held securely in his arms, all Bonzai could do was struggle uselessly. Taking the cue, the other Host grabbed Stitch out too, discarding the box with a huff.

"Now how are we supposed to fight?" She asked, only half sarcastic.

"We aren't supposed to fight, Lisa! It's just a quick in-and-out to get Scout back." He hissed, and Bonzai stopped his escape attempts to listen.

"I know that, but what if we come across something we can't outrun?" She sounded worried, and Bonzai didn't have to wonder why. If they were caught, Riley would take them all apart to find out why the Hosts woke up.

"Then... then we hide. Until it loses interest or gets distracted or something." He told her. "Or until Will finds us. He does this kind of thing all the time, so he knows how to handle it." He spoke with confidence, but the other Host, Lisa, didn't seem convinced.

"I don't know Mace. Every job he's done was, like, Scooby Doo shit almost." She shrugged. "I just don't know how much help he's gonna be for this."

"You just don't know him like I do, Leese. Trust me, you get William M. Carson pissed off and nothing can stand in his way. It is beautiful and terrifying all at once." A pause, as he considered. "I once saw him calmly go up to a doctor and stab her in the eye because she didn't take what he was telling her seriously. That got him solitary for a week. And new meds."

Well, that sounded horrific, and Bonzai found himself shrinking back at the words. Whoever this Will guy was the Puppet wanted him to stay far away from him and his sisters. Though, from the sound of it, he'd already been around Scout.

'Well doesn't this day just keep on getting better and better?' He huffed out a sigh, bracing his cheek against one hand. He took notice of Stitch, and how gently her Host was holding her. She still looked just as scared as she had earlier, though now Bonzai wasn't as worried about her. 'I hope the others are doing better with their Hosts. I think mine and Stitch's are bound for Riley's table after this.'

[highladyluck]

For the fic title meme: Lay Down Your Crown and Sword

So, I was thinking maybe this is about Aviendha's feelings about Rand when they're in the Aiel Waste... just kidding, I know what the people want from me.

Wheel of Time, Mat/Tuon, post-canon, ANGST. This is one take on a scenario where Mat attempts to achieve his stated relationship goal, which is convincing Tuon to abdicate and run away with him.

(This sucker is LONG and SPOILERY so I’m putting it under a cut.)

It's ~2 months after the Last Battle. There's growing danger to Tuon- an almost-successful assassination attempt (my money's on Moghedien) that scares Mat, Selucia, the Deathwatch, and maybe even Tuon herself, just a little. The sul'dam secret is leaking out and emboldening the faction that wants to kill her, there's worry it'll lead to local rebellion, plus there's still the Seanchan homeland power struggle. Mat uses all this to convince Tuon that she needs to lie low for a while. His idea is for her to fake her own death, install a puppet successor secretly loyal to her, and go hide out with him in a place no one will be able to find them for a few months.

She's not thrilled about it initially, but it's not like she hasn't faked her own death before (love that about her!) so she agrees to Mat's plan, which is 'hang out in a Portal Stone alternate timeline'. (Mat would not come up with this on his own, Mat does not like Portal Stones, but Min suggested it and he eventually agreed it would suit their needs.) Tuon would prefer something where she could keep an eye on political conditions more easily, but she feels safe with Mat & appreciates that this is definitely a secure option, and she's been out of contact with home base before for a while and been fine. Selucia stays in the palace, to keep an eye on things and do intrigue (and also give Mat and Tuon actual alone time- I am entertained by the grudging truce between Mat and Selucia, but her chaperone services are not needed this time around.)

They've got an official pickup scheduled in a few months, about a month before Tuon's due; Mat thought about waiting more time to go back but he'd rather have the option to call in trusted medical help for the birth and he wants to leave a wide margin of error for the actual due date. He intends to rope in Nyneave if it seems necessary, although he doubts he'll be lucky enough that Nyneave would help Tuon out of the goodness of her heart or even as a favor to him. More likely Nyneave's help would cost Tuon in political concessions, which he will have to either convince Tuon to accept- assuming she's in a position to make that kind of choice- or negotiate on her behalf, if she's in too much immediate danger. Either scenario keeps him up at night, but the alternative is worse. Also, he hasn't run this contingency plan by Tuon yet- likely because he isn't totally against the idea of extracting political concessions from Tuon, so there's guilt as well as fear of how she'd react. The other thing Tuon doesn't realize about this vacation plan is that Mat is hoping to convince her to move there forever- if it's nice- or at least to keep faking her death and start a new life with him somewhere in disguise in their reality.

The Portal Stone world is one that's relatively close to their world, so it has people and feels fairly familiar, but the apocalypse hasn't happened yet and doesn't appear to be doing so in the near future. (For fun let's say the obvious divergence is Damodred-related; maybe the non-asshole Damodred branch is in charge, so you don't get Laman's Sin and/or Tigrane is actually happy in her political marriage, so the Dragon hasn't been reborn yet.) Tuon's ok with the 'vacation' vibe at first, we get some cute romantic bonding moments between her and Mat as they do normal people things, they have some cute dates in taverns or whatever. But Tuon becomes increasingly bored and anxious and frustrated about not being able to keep tabs on what's happening- probably some residual trauma from the last time she went AWOL with Mat, and came back to find her homeland in shambles and her family dead. So that's a source of conflict, especially since she doesn't actually confide that in Mat. She also keeps wanting to hash out political/military plans for when they get back, but Mat keeps trying to distract her, or makes arguments she doesn't like (re: Seanchan policy reform). Maybe Mat brings up the Nyneave contingency plan because he got worried about her health, and Tuon's like 'uh how long have you been sitting on this idea, when the fuck were you going to run it past me, the person it most concerns?'

Their relationship has always had an element of conflict in it, but back then they were strangers, had rules of engagement constraining them, and a kind of shared purpose. Their conflict was a kind of game that they played together, and it drew them closer. Now they know how to get under each other's skin and aren't constrained by witnesses or promises, and they have a shared mission (keeping Tuon safe) but don't agree on who is in charge of it. What's holding them together still is their own compassion and affection for each other, but they're not great at communicating it with words and now they're using words as weapons sometimes, so most of the reconciling is with gestures/gifts/actions. In general, things are tense and there's not much going on outside of their own interactions to distract them; Tuon's temper is flaring, she's feeling powerless and like her personal integrity is being attacked sometimes; Mat's being propelled around by his gut reactions and he's scared of losing her (and the baby), in any number of ways, and mad that she doesn't want what he thinks is best.

Finally the scheduled transit date arrives and they pop back to their original universe and get caught up on the news (maybe from Min?) Over in Seanchan, possibly emboldened by news of Tuon's 'death', a warlord has consolidated most of the warring factions. Now they know who to go after, and a war in Seanchan would help unify the Seanchan in the westlands; the Seanchan military-industrial complex loves a good patriotic war. Things domestically are a little better than before they left. Selucia flushed out the network from the earlier assassination attempt and is generally keeping things running and the puppet ruler honest.

Tuon's relieved; she was really worried that everything was going to fall apart when she was gone and now she's kind of grateful for the break. She tries to tell Mat this without actually admitting that she's got trauma around it, because the Empress doesn't admit weakness and Tuon the person is extremely bad at talking about feelings anyway; she's like "Ah, that's much better news than I came back to last time you kidnapped me. I'm glad to be back to work again, let's get to it." Mat's irritable, not catching on that she was actually really worried about it based on her previous experience, and thinking she didn't appreciate the break, and also worried that his plans to convince her to leave with him aren't going to work. Tuon catches that he's cagey and unhappy and not getting her jokes, and she remembers that this was what he seemed like when she first saw him in the Tarasin Palace. Mat argues that they should at least wait until the baby comes, that the person she put in charge is doing well, they can certainly let them rule a while longer. He says he's not sure it's the right time to attack Seanchan, he'd need to check the troops out, sniff out local sentiment. He's not decisive or commanding or focused when he says these things- it's stalling, it's bravado covering panic. It dawns on her- oh shit, he's gonna run.

Tuon's spooked. She KNOWS Mat now, but that doesn't mean she knows what to do to hang on to him. She doesn't know how to deal with a loss of control in her personal life, so she turns to what she knows she can control- the empire, her role, her property. She takes refuge in past promises. She tells him they will discuss the disposition of the army and the prosecution of the war in Seanchan once her heir is born and she's officially 'off the hook'. Mat looks grim.

Tuon wanted to announce that she's back immediately, but she starts having contractions and Mat's like 'you are absolutely not going to return from the dead right this second, you're super vulnerable right now.' They stay in a relatively secret spot in Tuon's territory with a small coterie of loyal retainers until the baby is born; it goes fine. There is one (1) cute bonding moment between Tuon and the baby and Mat; then the baby vanishes. Mat was on guard along with the usual people you'd expect to be on guard (not Karede, Selucia, or Min though). Tuon FUCKING KNOWS Mat did it with Aes Sedai help, she's initially furious and betrayed, but Mat isn't admitting it and within the extremely tight circle of people who know about the vanished baby, he's doing a reasonably convincing job looking as freaked out and upset as everyone else, and she's still hoping she can resolve this privately without any drastic public actions.

She takes Mat to a private place and she tells him that she has always, always been able to trust him. She trusts him so much it terrifies her. She does not know if this is what love is, but it is what she feels for him. She asks him to honor that, to honor himself, and not to lie to her. She then asks him why he kidnapped their child. Mat staggers, and blurts out that he can't bear the thought of their children constantly at risk of assassination, from strangers or their own siblings. He has nightmares about their child beginning to channel, or being able to learn, and what that means for them in the Empire. Tuon's made her choice and he'll respect that, though he hates the risks to her, and what the Empire does to her and others. But their child deserves the choice Tuon didn't have. He loves Tuon, but he cannot love the Empire, and he will not fight in the Empire's wars, and he will not let the Empire own his children, whether that's as royalty, sul'dam, or damane. He says he trusts she'll come to the right decision about what to do with this information.

The next scene has Tuon in mourning white. It's neither Tuon's nor Mat's POV- probably Karede, or maybe Min. In front of the whole court Tuon, as Empress back from the dead, bestows the Bloodknives ring and blessing on Knotai, and orders him to take a few members of the Deathwatch (the ones on watch the night the baby vanished, our observer notes) and assassinate the warlord in Seanchan on her behalf. She says she trusts he will succeed. They stare inscrutably at each other. The court is shocked into silence at first, but the whispers rise behind Mat as he straightens from his extraordinarily polite leg and heads out of the chamber. It is left up to the reader to decide if this is an elaborate plan to fake Mat's death and set him free, or his execution.

--- You may notice this is suspiciously fleshed out for a prompt I received this afternoon. XD I've been kicking around some of this premise for a while, though this ask made me finally come up with the circumstances that get Tuon to actually agree to temporarily leave her job, as well as most of the details. The main emotional beats came from stringing together several Mountain Goats songs, because of course it did. The whole sequence is Twin Human Highway Flares, Riches and Wonders (Eliza Rickman cover), Alpha Incipiens, Fault Lines, New Britain, Family Happiness. I’m not sure if I’ll actually turn this into a finished story with description and dialogue and everything, but it’s possible. This is also not the only Mat/Tuon post-canon idea I have kicking around! It’s not my ideal scenario for them for sure, but it’s a lot easier to write a ‘bad ending’ for them than to work on my ‘good ending’, because I have a lot more emotional investment in the ‘good ending’... perfectionist problems. :/

[snuggleboots]

I saw in your tags you want to write more Sasori, how about him in a relationship head canons?

I’m sorry this took me quite a while, but thank you so much for the request! Sasori really intrigues me, and I enjoyed having the chance to sit down and really think about his character like this! I hope you like the headcanons!

Sasori

Sasori is not the type of man to mince words. He’s blunt, he’s abrasive, and he does not aim to spare anyone’s feelings. This includes his S/O. You need to understand that you are not exempt from his personality- and while you do get to see him at his best, chances are you’ll unfortunately see him at his worst, too. It may be rare for him to have his temper flare enough to lash out, but his occasionally short fuse makes it inevitable that you’ll experience some of it. Even if it isn’t directed towards you, he wants you there to listen to him seethe and rage and get the worst of it out of his system. Ideally you will understand that what is said when he’s tipped over the edge is not directed towards you, unless you’ve done something heinous enough to garner his ire. 

-

There are things you will never understand, there are people you will never meet, and there are pieces of Sasori that he may never be willing to share with you. Sasori runs the monopoly on classified information- not to mention his eternally-parched lust for knowledge reliably leads him into even more forbidden knowledge you have no business poking your nose into. Certainly he cares about you- deeply even, but expressing that to you is a task nearly insurmountable. Sasori keeps these secrets from you because he cares. There’s already a target on his back- no need for you to have one, too.

-

He will never admit it, but he appreciates having someone to keep him on his toes and challenge him outside of combat. Hold him accountable when he’s being cruel or rude for no real reason. Being an asshole isn’t a personality trait, and you would do well to remind him of that on his bad days. Debate him. Ask questions, share your own discoveries, achievements, and knowledge with him! Likely he knows most of what you’re telling him, but he liked you enough to pursue you romantically- so he absolutely likes you enough to listen to you pour passion into your interests, skills, and hobbies. Even if you’re someone who might bounce from interest to interest, hobby to hobby, Sasori will still take the time to sit you down and hear what you have to say. He’ll only do it once though, most likely. He may have some patience, but he doesn’t have any desire to hear the same information dumped onto him over and over again. 

-

For the most part Sasori would consider himself to be touch-repulsed, but there are still days when the planets align just so, and he feels the long-suffocated yearning just to be touched. Despite lacking the flesh and blood to feel, he still relishes in those rare times when he can beckon you close and draw you in with a cold, unyielding hand and curl up in the safety of your arms. There is no machismo that makes him ashamed to admit that he prefers to be held, rather than hold you. It’s not meant to hurt your feelings if you’re the type that likes to be the recipient of cuddles, but there are specific ways Sasori approaches things like the physical aspects of a relationship. For the most part he demands absolute control. Tender embraces and long hours spent just sharing a snuggle are the only exceptions. It reminds him of home.

-

While Sasori expects you to be capable of defending yourself, he is still a very territorial man. Not jealous by any margin, just protective- in his own way. Would he care if he somehow witnessed someone trying to butter you up with stupid flirtation? Not at all. You have the integrity and loyalty to turn them down. Will he demean and insult the flirt for his own amusement after you do so? Absolutely. Hiruko wasn’t built to be attractive or appealing, so he is completely aware of the fact that anyone who approaches you without knowing Sasori would get to witness themselves losing to something as aesthetically hideous as his puppet armour. If you were ever in a situation that meant your life was endangered, that is where you would come to understand the territorial nature of the puppet master. Get out of the way and let him rain down his fury and hellfire through the art of breathtaking puppets with their caustic weapons and poisons. Watch him reduce the assailants to a putrid black lump of tar, clotting the dirt with melted flesh and splintered bone. 

-

On your bad days, if you have any, Sasori will offer you his ear if you ask. He’s not so selfish that he would deny you an outlet- and you can trust that he would keep your frustrations to himself. He does not kiss and tell. Instead he offers his own advice, which may be extreme or underwhelming depending on the situation, but always somehow helps. Honestly, his most common advice is probably ‘ignore it’- because most of his more mundane problems are literally just mouthy, overgrown children- and engaging problems such as that just creates more problems. 

-

Dates are very unlikely. A night well spent is best spent working, in his opinion. So you would have to take initiative and approach him with ideas- and he’ll likely turn you down more often than not, but when he’s willing to set some time aside to spend an evening with you it’s still spent somewhere incredibly private. Deep in the woods, or behind closed doors of a room rented for the occasion. Bring tea, and maybe a snack for two- he won’t eat it because he can’t, but he’ll appreciate the sentiment. Then, spend the starlight hours deep in conversation, or quietly enjoying one another’s company. 

-

Touching on the topic of love languages, Sasori’s is complicated. He enjoys acts of servitude, and deeply appreciates physical displays when he requests it. He hates receiving gifts- but may or may not enjoy giving them from time to time. He will tell you what he appreciates most about you, and will point out the features of yours he finds most beautiful and unique. To majority of people he would be a very unfulfilling lover, because you must be able to see the subtleties of his love and affection to appreciate the unique elements he brings to the table in a relationship. 

[blightarts]

Blades of Order & Chaos

Chapter Title: 8 - Rival

Previous Chapter: Lion VS Bear

Word Count: 5239

Disclaimer: All rights belong to Pixelberry. This is my version for the upcoming sequel of Blades of Light & Shadow. I am not claiming this to be the canon story of the book. This is only written to increase the hype for the actual sequel.

MC/Pairing: Kite (Blue Elf Male MC) / Kite x Nia

Taglist: @princessstellaris​ @mechaspirit​ @brightningstar​ @cal-north​ @lxdy-starfury​ @tyrils-star​ @imturaxamara​ @kelseaaa​

In the middle of the Vishanti Kingdom market square, Kade comes face to face with the former prince of Morella, Aerin Valleros. While Threep glares along with Kade, Kite and Bella are left confused.

Kite: Kade, is this person a danger to us?

Aerin scoffs.

Aerin: I’m hurt, Kite. After a year of not seeing each other, you’ve forgotten all about me?

Kade: Kite lost his memories.

The prince raises his eyebrow.

Aerin: Oh? That’s quite unfortunate.

Bella steps up.

Bella: Hold on. Is there some romantic tension that I’m not gettin’ here?

Threep: This young man is Aerin Valleros, prince of Morella, who betrayed his people and aided the Shadow Court in their return.

Bella tenses up upon hearing the words, “Shadow Court”, but composes herself before walking up to Aerin and grabbing his collar.

Bella: So, this li’l fella is a problem to you guys then? Should we throw him off the mountain?

Aerin chuckles and sarcastically raises his hands in defeat.

Aerin: Easy, easy. I’m not even showing any hostility towards any of you… yet.

Kade: What are you doing here? How’d you even survive the Empire’s attack on Whitetower, let alone escaped your prison cell? Did they let you out and got you a spot in their ranks?

Aerin: What’s in it for me if I tell you?

Bella: We don’t let gravity decide your fate.

Aerin rolls his eyes and shrugs.

Aerin: Alright, fair enough.

Bella lets go of Aerin as he dusts himself off.

Aerin: A year ago, after you lot had your first encounter with that coward, Laundsellyn, he took me from my cell and dragged me into the Shadow Realm.

The prince then turns around for a stroll, signaling the party to follow him.

Aerin: After that, I thought I was done serving jail time, but no, they threw me into another cell for my failures in defeating you.

Kade: Well, it serves you right for joining the wrong side.

Aerin ignores Kade’s rude comment.

Aerin: I stayed in that cell for about three months and during that time, I’ve heard from one of the Shadow Guards that once served under me, mocking me and laughing about the news that Laundsellyn killed my father.

Kite notices Aerin clenching his fists in anger.

Aerin: Upon hearing my father’s name, visions began to clutter my mind, visions of the past that I cannot even recall, visions of me… and my brother, Baldur… actually getting along during our childhood…

Threep: I thought you two were at odds with each other until you plunged the Blade of Shadows unto him.

Aerin: That’s what I thought as well. For years, I believed that my brother had always been a condescending jerk who treats people who are beneath him as insects. But no, my memories proved that to be wrong as when we were young, he offered me to be his right-hand man, his closest advisor once he becomes king.

Kade: So, what you’re saying is that the Dreadlord somehow manipulated your memories, as well as Baldur’s in order to tear yourselves apart and use one of you as a puppet?

As the party nears the kingdom’s gates, Aerin stops walking.

Aerin: I don’t know. That’s what I intend to find out.

The prince moves forward once more.

Aerin: I spent my three months in solitary, recalling my memories and struggling from countless headaches, but I could not make any progress whatsoever. And then… he came along, Ignis…

Shivers run up everyone’s spines while Aerin clutches his chest.

Aerin: He visited my cell and “offered” me to join his ranks in exchange for my freedom.

Kade: Well, seeing you here right now means that you’ve obviously said yes.

Aerin turns to Kade with rage.

Aerin: I was not even able to give an answer!

Kade flinches as Kite gets between him and Aerin. Citizens begin to stare at the party.

Aerin: I was dragged out of my cell before that accursed devil casted a spell…

Aerin then tears open his shirt, revealing a Nerada Stone still etched onto its chest while small purple sparks surge through it.

Aerin: …on this damned thing, making sure that I get in line and follow the orders of the elf that killed my father, else I get electrocuted to death!

The prince then grips his hair as he starts to lose it.

Aerin: After that I was worked to the bone, slaughtering innocent people who refused to bend to the Empire and conquering peaceful lands across Morella, all while suffering from the headaches caused by those visions and the shocking pain that this stupid stone keeps bringing unto me!

Aerin then grabs Kite by the collar. Bella grabs onto one of Aerin’s arms.

Bella: Hey! No bright ideas, royal boy!

Aerin: How do you even live while you’re suffering like this, Kite?! After everything you’ve been through, being betrayed, being separated from those you love, being beaten to a pulp, and having your memories lost! How are you still moving forward?!

Kite is speechless while Aerin keeps rambling in tears.

Aerin: I’ve thrown it all away… I’ve surrendered myself to darkness… I’ve betrayed the people who once saw me as their friend… I’ve let my own father die under the hands of the elf I now work for… I’ve killed my own brother all because a dark entity severed our bonds and manipulated our memories…

Threep leans in on Kite’s ears and whispers.

Threep: We should leave quickly. Everyone has their eyes on us.

Aerin: The nesper is right.

Aerin sniffs and wipes his tears before letting Kite go.

Aerin: This should not be settled by just words.

He turns away.

Aerin: Meet me outside of town.

Aerin then walks off while buttoning up his shirt. The crowd avert their eyes from the group as the tension dies down.

Bella: Jeez, that was one helluva ride.

Kade: We can’t let him get away.

Threep: I believe that he wants to settle things with Kite through combat.

Kite watches as Aerin disappears into the crowd.

Kite: I’ll do it.

The party look at Kite with surprise.

Kade: What?! You do know it’s a trap!

Bella: Yeah, he’s with the bad guys, whether he likes it or not.

Kite: I don’t care. I can tell from how Aerin looked at me earlier. It’s like… he’s asking someone to save him.

Kite runs ahead to chase after Aerin while the party hesitates for a second before following suit. Threep gets on Kite’s shoulder.

Threep: I hope you know what you’re doing.

Kite: I am. You guys have to trust me.

Minutes later, in the outskirts of the Vishanti Kingdom, Aerin sits on the snow, gazing at the sky. His head begins to pain as a vision flashes in his eyes.

Aerin: Tch! Not again!

In his vision, he sees his young self being bullied by three kids in the town square of Whitetower.

Bully 1: Go back to your lush life in the castle, Valleros!

Bully 2: Yeah, no one wants you here!

Bully 3: Weakling!

Suddenly, Baldur appears, pushing the bullies away, and gets in between them and Aerin while holding a stick.

Baldur: Hey! Get away from my brother! He may be not as strong as any of us here, but he is sure as heck smarter than the three of you combined!

The bullies approach Baldur, cracking their knuckles.

Bully 1: Now, you’re asking for it, Baldur.

Baldur turns to Aerin.

Past Baldur: Stand up, Aerin. We can take them on together.

Past Aerin: O-Okay…

Aerin stands up and shyly raises his hands in self-defense.

The vision fast-forwards, minutes after the two brothers faced off against the bullies. They have a few bruises scattered around them, but they were victorious in the fight. Baldur is giving Aerin a piggyback ride.

Past Baldur: Good job handling yourself out there.

Past Aerin: You did most of the work…

Past Baldur: Nonsense. It was smart of you to poke their eyes, giving me time to whoop their butts. I’m proud of you.

Baldur grins while Aerin becomes flustered.

Past Aerin: T-Thank you…

The vision ends as Aerin is snapped back to reality and his headache fades away.

Aerin: How…? Where did it all go wrong…?

The prince turns around to see Kite and his friends standing behind him.

Aerin: You’re here.

He stands up and cracks his knuckles.

Kite: I’m guessing you wanna settle this in a fight?

Aerin: Yeah. Once I defeat you, the Hero chosen to defeat the Empire, right here, I will go back to Shadow Realm and claim vengeance!

Aerin puts his hand forward, materializing a polearm surging with Shadow magic. Kade grits his teeth.

Kade: A new weapon from Ignis, I presume?

Aerin: More or less. It’s called the Blackcliff Polearm.

Kade, Bella and Threep steps back.

Kade: Is it really okay for us to let this fight happen while not worrying about an avalanche?

Bella: It’s alright. The Vishanti placed wards around the mountain to prevent avalanches from occurring, guaranteeing the safety of their kingdom.

Threep: That’s a relief.

Kite unsheathes the Mirror Claymore, piquing the interest of Aerin.

Aerin: So, that’s the Mirror Claymore of the Vishanti. Quite the Sacred Treasure.

Aerin begins the fight by charging towards Kite and performs a few swings and thrusts with the Blackcliff Polearm, but the latter uses his elven senses to avoid all of them.

Aerin: Tch! Alright, how about this?!

Aerin leaps up and attempts to plunge the polearm on Kite, but again, the latter hops back, evading the attack.

Aerin: Got you now!

Aerin lets go of the polearm while it is planted on the ground before kicking it.

The polearm spins vertically towards Kite who blocks it with the Mirror Claymore.

Kite: Damn!

As the polearm begins to slow down in spinning, Aerin suddenly lunges forward and grabs it, surprising Kite.

Kite: What the—

Aerin then uses Shadow magic, transforming himself into a purple bolt of lightning, before traveling upwards. Kite and the party look up in awe.

Kade: What the hell is that?!

Threep: He has become stronger since we last saw him!

Three duplicates of the Blackcliff polearm rain down from the sky and plant themselves around Kite. Sparks then begin to appear on their tips. Kite attempts to block the incoming attack with the Mirror Claymore, but Aerin proves to be quicker as his lightning form comes crashing down onto the duplicate polearms acting as lightning rods. Kite gets electrocuted and hurled from the point of the attack, where Aerin is seen crouching down and holding his weapon, plunged onto the ground.

Bella: Sheesh, remind me not to mess with him when he’s this worked up.

Kite gets up while still recovering from Aerin’s attack. The prince stands up and pulls out his weapon from the ground, boasting about his successful attack.

Aerin: How was that?!

Kite: Tch! Not bad.

Kite gets up and dusts off his shoulder.

Kade: Wait, why was the Mirror Claymore not able to absorb the magic attack?

Threep: I believe that Kite was expecting Aerin to strike from above, even though there were duplicates of the polearm around him. However, when Aerin dropped and struck Kite’s guard, it wasn’t a magical attack, it was instead a physical attack. So, it didn’t count to the magic absorption power of the Claymore.

Bella: Then what caused the electric surge?

Threep: Electricity ran from the tip of Aerin’s weapon towards its duplicates while avoiding the Mirror Claymore, overloading them with magical energy to the point where they would explode.

Kade: That was… actually clever.

Bella: He managed to bypass the insane power of the Mirror Claymore.

Aerin rushes towards Kite once more, but the latter stays composed.

Kite: Aerin, you’re not the only one that has grown.

Kite raises the Mirror Claymore and slams it on the ground in front of him, scattering the snow and obscuring himself from Aerin’s sights. The elf then quickly casts a spell.

Kite: Chaos Magic: Moonlight Circle – Mirror Mirage.

Aerin: You can’t hide from me!

Aerin slashes the thin snow wall between him and Kite in half. As the snow parts, the prince comes face to face with multiple duplicates of his opponent, each holding the Bow of Gal’dariel in hand.

Aerin: Wha—

Kade: He used Mirror Mirage!

Threep: An excellent strategy. This should buy the real Kite some time to strike back.

Aerin stops in his tracks.

Aerin: So, this is the spell you used to escape the clutches of the Empire.

Kite and his duplicates draw their bows and arrows while aiming at Aerin.

Aerin: I know that most of those arrows are not real, but one of them can still pierce my body.

The arrows are let loose as they fly towards their target.

Aerin: So, as long as I find the real you…

Aerin does a forward flip, avoiding all the arrows, before slamming his polearm on the ground, unleashing arcs of lightning towards Kite and his duplicates. The arcs pierce through each duplicate as, one by one, they fade from existence, however, as the last duplicate fades away, the real Kite is nowhere to be seen.

Aerin: What?! Then… where is he?!

Aerin looks around, searching for the real Kite, when suddenly, the snow beneath him begins to move. He looks down.

Aerin: Can it be…?

Kite leaps up from under the snow, equipping the Gauntlet of Pain, and sucker punches Aerin, launching him far away.

Bella: Oof, that’s gotta hurt!

Aerin gets on his feet and wipes off the blood, dripping from his lips.

Aerin: But still not enough to make me concede.

He rushes to Kite, who unsheathes the Mirror Claymore.

Aerin: I will...!

Kite swings the Claymore like a baseball bat, but Aerin leaps to avoid it, ready to plunge his polearm.

Kite: Damn!

Aerin: …surpass you!!

Kite swiftly grabs the sharp end of the polearm using the Gauntlet of Pain, stopping Aerin’s attack, before hurling it behind him. Aerin ends up plunging his weapon on the snow.

Aerin: Tch!

He flips away, giving himself some distance from Kite. The two stare down at each other, waiting to strike.

Aerin: Why don’t we both bring out everything we’ve got?

Kite deeply inhales before casting Lion’s Pride, raising his physical attributes. Meanwhile, Aerin channels his Shadow magic, causing purple electricity to surge throughout his body, increasing his speed and agility. Bella steps in front of Kade and Threep.

Bella: We gotta stay back. When their attacks clash, it could be dangerous for us.

The party steps back a few feet and as soon as they did, Kite and Aerin charge at each other. They both swing their weapons, causing a strong shockwave upon collision. The two keep clashing, trading minimal blows and parrying each other’s attacks. While Aerin has the speed to strike before Kite could defend himself, the latter has enough endurance to not flinch from the attack and strike back.

Aerin leaps up, transforming into a bolt of purple lightning once more. This time, more than three duplicates of his polearm drop from the sky and surround Kite.

Kite: Tch!

Kite hops back, trying to get out of the field of polearms, but Aerin quickly descends from the sky, releasing magical energy to the polearms, causing them to burst with electricity before Kite could escape the area of effect.

Aerin: I’m impressed that you were able to survive that.

The light from the electrical surge fades, revealing Kite shielding himself with the Mirror Claymore as it is filled with magical energy that came from Aerin’s attack. However, the elf is left with burns across his body.

Kade: Kite!

Unconcerned with his own well-being, Kite swings his weapon, unleashing a magical projectile, shaped like a crescent and filled with Shadow Magic, towards Aerin.

Bella: Again, with that recklessness. Has he always been like this?

Threep: Sadly, yes, but it’s what got him this far.

Aerin imbues his polearm with Shadow Magic and uses it to cut the crescent in half, avoiding the attack, but as the crescent parts, Kite comes up right in front of Aerin, catching him by surprise.

Aerin: When did you…?!

Aerin then notices Kite conjuring a ball of Cleansing Fire from his hand. Kite swings his hand down, attempting to slam the fireball onto Aerin’s head, but the latter leaps back, evading the attack.

Aerin: It takes a lot more than a ball of fire to knock me down, Kite.

Kite looks at Aerin with a smirk.

Kite; What makes you think that it was going for you?

Aerin: Huh?

Kite slams the fireball onto the Mirror Claymore as it absorbs the magical energy, imbuing it with flames. He then charges forward while Aerin is still in mid-air, in the midst of avoiding the fireball.

Aerin’s Thoughts: Shit! I can’t dodge it! I have to block it!

Aerin holds his polearm up to block the incoming attack, but…

CLANG!!

…Kite disarms Aerin and sends the Blackcliff Polearm flying through the air, startling the latter.

Aerin: No!

The party starts cheering.

Kade: He did it!

Threep: Kite has the advantage now!

Bella: Nice!

As Aerin lands on the snow, Kite kicks his leg, forcing him to kneel in pain.

Aerin: Aah!!

Kite: Aerin… if you let only your emotions fuel your false resolve…

The elf then pulls his weapon back, ready to swing it.

Kite: …then you do not deserve to win this fight.

Aerin stares in disbelief before slowly lowering his head in defeat, accepting his demise.

Kade: Wait… is he gonna…?

Kite grips the hilt of the Mirror Claymore tight before swinging rapidly, aiming for Aerin’s neck, as if he’s trying to behead him.

Threep: Kite!

Fortunately, Kite stops short, with the blade of the Mirror Claymore almost touching Aerin’s neck. The prince’s heart momentarily pauses as he just looks at Kite, with an expression of pity on his face.

Aerin: W… Why’d you stop…?

Kite sheathes the Mirror Claymore before turning away and rejoining his friends. Aerin grits his teeth and stands in anger.

Aerin: Hey! Don’t walk away from me, Kite! Why didn’t you kill me?!

Kite stops in his tracks.

Kite: Because I cannot kill a man who is just asking for a death wish.

Aerin: What do you mean…?

Kite turns to Aerin, who was speechless.

Kite: Defeating me or the Empire? Can you even do that? Or are you just looking for an excuse to get yourself killed to end your suffering, even though it doesn’t work that way? You weren’t even giving your all during our fight.

Aerin: I…

Aerin trembles, slowly realizing how correct Kite is.

Kite: The fact that you can’t even take it upon yourself to end your own life and instead relying on others to do it, means that there’s still a part of you that wants to live on.

Kite turns back to his friends.

Kite: Once you’ve found your real self, the Aerin before the Empire of Ash, before the Shadow Court, before all of this, then come find me.

Kite continues to walk towards his friends.

Kite: I’ll be sure to fight you again… to settle this properly.

The party gathers around Kite, making sure he’s okay, while they all walk away from Aerin.

Kade: Are you hurt?

Kite: I’m fine.

Threep: Did you really intend to kill him?

Kite: I wasn’t trying to.

Bella: Are you sure you wanna face him again?

Kite: As much as I need to until he’s saved.

As the party disappears from Aerin’s sights, he grabs his weapon, before walking the other direction and wandering to himself.

Aerin: My… real self…

As the party and Aerin part ways, Laundsellyn watches from the sky, laying down on a hovering Blade of Shadows.

Sir Laundsellyn: Hehe, that was fun.

He squints and smirks at the party.

Sir Laundsellyn: Now… where could that Priestess be?

————— END OF CHAPTER —————

[whumpster-fire]

More on Redemption Arcs

So, there’s something else I want to say about Enemies to Lovers / Enemies to Friends / in general redemption arcs, and in particular those where a character who’s previously been hurt by a villain or their associates is now in a caretaking role for that villain.

Obligatory no one is obligated to forgive someone who’s caused them trauma, or go through the emotional labor of supporting them, or ever interact with them again. But, IMO, it works better if you approach it from the perspective of: “Okay, so why would the traumatized character want to interact with the source of that trauma?” Think about something positive they’re getting from this relationship, from the character’s perspective, and/or think about it in terms of what would establish a bond between them that would cause character A to not want to say: “Okay I don’t care if they’re reformed / reformable, they’re someone else’s problem.”

And obviously there’s better and worse, or at least healthier and less healthy reasons for this. One good one is to have circumstances / the plot force them to grit their teeth and work together, causing bonding through alliance (I dunno the actual term), and at some point during or after this they go “Oh shit we’re actually friends now” (CoughZukoCough). Another of my favorites is to have characters bonding through a shared trauma. This could be a “we’re all in the same boat” situation like I mentioned above but instead of succeeding together they suffer together, or it could be through similar circumstances but not actually the same event, or it could be they’re both abused and traumatized by the same Even Worse Villain and the subordinate villain ends up standing up to their abuser and helping the hero. (E.g. @wildfaewhump’s Iesin and Talvos storyline here on Tumblr, go check it out).

Here’s a couple of case studies of this with redemption arcs I’ve written avoided writing like 90% of the actual recovery phase of, which I’m putting below a Keep Reading both because we’re several paragraphs in now and because one of them spoils the canon material, and also yeah I’m being obnoxious writing long-winded essays about my own fics even if it is my blog. Fics are linked to Ao3, check the tags and summaries on there for trigger warnings and read at your own risk.

Case One: Resurrection x And x Reconciliation

This is in the Hunter X Hunter fandom, and it’s a Gon & Neferpitou friendship, which if you’re familiar with the canon material sounds like the worst fucking idea ever for an enemies to friends arc. Long story short Pitou killed (and also reanimated as a corpse puppet) someone close to Gon, and the trauma of this utterly broke him, to the point of being so obsessed with revenge that he pushed away and hurt his closest friend, took an innocent person hostage for leverage, and basically snapped and went to utterly insane lengths to kill Pitou that it would have caused him a slow, horribly painful death if it weren’t for circumstances.

Okay, but long story short, the person whose death set this all off later turned out to have somehow reincarnated himself into another body, and Gon already processes stuff in really weird ways, so he was now left struggling to process the delayed realization of all the fuckups and reckless and harmful things he’d done, and the trauma of the actual “fight” against Pitou, and meanwhile Pitou got the fun experience of experiencing grief and loss and a near-death (technically actual death) experience for the first time and starting to process that she’d caused that kind of trauma for hundreds of thousands of fully sentient people. And also it turned out that they both sacrificed their lives to kill each other and accomplished absolutely nothing in the process, because the person Gon was trying to avenge turned out to be still alive, and the person Pitou was trying to protected turned out to already be fatally injured.

So this is kind of the exception that proves the rule because Gon and Pitou’s friendship is absolutely 100% born of shared trauma, it’s just that a major part of said trauma was mutually inflicted on each other, and supporting each other kind of helps them heal. This isn’t necessarily actually psychologically healthy or a good idea, but it’s pretty well established in canon that the only thing worse than every single adult in the setting’s track record at supporting people during mental health crises is their track record at stopping Gon from doing whatever the fuck he decides to do, and no one wants to deal with Pitou either.

Case Two: La Resistance / Fresh Ink

This is in, uhh, the Warner Bros Cartoon Universe fandom / Who Framed Roger Rabbit fandom, but by nature the canon material doesn’t have much of a plot for the former and the later is really just the setting. Lemme try and summarize this: in the final battle against the terrorist group that was creating Toons (living cartoon characters with reality warping powers) as living weapons in an attempted genocide against other Toons, the only two surviving toons on the villain’s side, Wendy Weasel and Riley Raccoon, were semi-adopted by some of the protagonists: Yakko, Wakko, and Dot Warner, and Slappy Squirrel. At first mostly Wendy because in the immediate aftermath of the battle Riley was in the ICU.

Okay, why did they spend their time dealing with her? This one’s different because Wendy herself didn’t really cause that much in the way of direct trauma to the characters who ended up supporting her - the ones she really hurt didn’t have much to do with her - however she’s just a fucking chore to try to get along with because she’s passive-aggressive, aggressive-aggressive, destructive-aggressive, and her main defense mechanism is to intensify these traits even further so she was just a hostile brat most of the time.

Well, this starts as a “Forced together by external circumstances” plot, of a sort: Wendy ended up as a prisoner after the battle - she defected, but never actually surrendered because she knocked herself unconscious while killing the main villain. The FBI did not want to have to deal with a prisoner who could teleport through walls, pull weapons and tools out of thin air, Jedi Mind Trick guards, etc. etc. etc, and the Warner Siblings just happened to be in a possession of a tailor-made prison designed to hold creatures like her (originally meant to contain them, they broke out but refused to move out) and were among the like 5-10 people on the planet who could actually fight her, so the Feds basically went: “Your problem now,” or just as accurately, the Warners and Slappy were not letting what was obviously an indoctrinated child soldier who defected and helped them get deemed “Too dangerous to let live since we can’t keep her contained long enough to have a trial” as a matter of principle.

But reason B, especially as they interacted with Wendy, is that the Warners and to a lesser extent Slappy knew what it was like to be drawn into existence and surrounded by people who hated them, feared them, or at least didn’t respect them. Again there was an attempt to seal the Warners permanently in an inescapable prison, and this was before a method of actually killing Toons was invented so they’re pretty sure the humans would have preferred to straight-up murder them for being too powerful and out of control... which was also the exact same ideology held by Wendy’s creators. And they also really empathized with the strong “sibling” bond she had with Riley (not actually supposed to be siblings but drawn by the same animator so sort of siblings and they just kinda decided they were) because it reminded them of themselves as well. This is self-explanatory with the Warners, with Slappy, in the fic she and Screwy Squirrel were siblings, and “Gee wouldn’t it be terrifying if a character as chaotic and sadistic as Screwy Squirrel was a villain was literally the starting point for Wendy’s character concept.

Also reason C is “Obnoxious child using passive-aggressiveness to mask trauma, anger, and need for love and attention” fit right in in the WB Studio Water Tower.

Anyway tl;dr that’s another example of a potential motive behind the caretakers in a redemption arc: if the characters sort of identify with the villain due to similar backgrounds to the point where they sort of go: “That could’ve been me in different circumstances.”