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redtsundere-writes · 2 months ago

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Part 22: Mutual

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. Beta read.

Word Count: 3732 words.

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"Bastard, bastard, bastard…" You muttered to yourself, thinking about what had happened with King Sukuna a few hours ago.

You paced back and forth, biting your nails and frowning as your mind stormed in a whirlwind of thoughts. The tyrant’s actions had been disconcerting, contradictory and hypocritical. One moment he was romantic, protective and kind, and the next, cold, pedantic and cruel. A clumsy juggler, delighted in dropping one of your fragile feelings only to see it explode. Every time they took a step in that confusing relationship, Sukuna took three steps back, as if he didn’t want, or was afraid, to reach the goal. You had never wanted to punch and understand someone at the same time.

Not only his actions, but also his words were a turbulent sea. After ignoring you for a whole month, he would return with whispered sweetness that didn't seem to fit his rough character. It was as if he immersed you in a warm sauna only to suddenly throw you into a rapid river. He could fulfill all the promises of luxury and riches he once made you, but none of it mattered to you anymore. Not the jewels, not the dresses, not the flowers...

You stopped next to the vase that stood elegantly next to your bedroom window and noticed that, among the bunches of yellow tulips, daisies were hidden. They weren't red, nor blue, nor yellow. They were white, twenty in total. Now that you thought about it, all the bouquets in the castle treasured white daisies among the refined arrangements. That morning you would have thought they were just another flower in the pile, but after hearing the king's words that were still fresh in your mind, they took on another meaning. You grabbed the bow, another gift from the tyrant, and examined the hilt: a daisy engraved on the wood. “White daisies are a symbol of purity and innocence,” you quoted in your mind.

“Pure and innocent…” You repeated with an offended smile on your face. “So he thinks I’m easy to manipulate.”

It was the only explanation that made sense of his disconcerting attitude. He lured you in with promises, luxuries, and sweet words only to snatch them away later, leaving you with the insatiable desire for more. After all, he was a tyrant. He knew well how to manipulate his subordinates, how to squeeze every last drop of use out of those who were caught in his trick-filled game.

You plucked a daisy and sat on the windowsill. You twirled the stem between your fingers, mesmerized by the swaying of the petals as it spun before your eyes. Gently, you took the first petal and gently plucked it, feeling it slip through your fingers.

“He loves me.” You plucked another petal. “He doesn’t love me.” Another one. “He loves me.”

Petal after petal, they slowly fell out of the window. They tumbled down along with your hopes that the king would ever see you as an equal. You held back the urge to cry as you realized how naive you had been to think, even for an instant, that he truly cared about you. But just as you could accept that Yorozu was a trashy bitch who deserved her tragic end, you could also admit that Sukuna was nothing more than a terrible king, who never cared, cares nor would never care about you.

There was only one petal left on the flower. The reality was clear, and there was no turning back. The war may not have started yet, but the game was already underway. On this board called life, the first move is always crucial. Many believe that chess begins when the first pawn advances; in truth, the game begins when you come face to face with your opponent. When you shake your opponent's hand and study their face in detail. Before making your first move, you had to shake the tyrant's hand, with the understanding that this game had already begun as soon as he sat down.

"He doesn't love me." You sighed from the depths of your soul before throwing the last petal out the window.

The next morning, you walked with a determined step through the cool halls, looking for the king. The morning breeze filtered through the large windows to counteract the afternoon heat. Before leaving, you had sent Mrs. Inoue to the beach to collect seashells, an errand with the simple purpose of distracting her away from your affairs for a while. She refused at first, but agreed when you told her that they would be for the servants in Sukuna's kingdom. Upon reaching the hall, you found Kenjaku, directing curses that were cleansing the imposing fountain at the entrance.

“Good morning, young lady,” your tutor greeted you with a wide smile.

“Have you seen the king?” You asked after greeting him with the same energy.

“He went out to get rid of rebel groups, he will be back in the afternoon.” Kenjaku answered. “Did you need him for something?”

“I wanted to see if he wanted to come with me to the beach, but it seems that will be another day,” you lied.

"I doubt he'll have time, we're all very busy with the organization for the coronation and the renaming of the kingdom," Kenjaku explained, disappointed to disappoint you.

"Don't worry, I understand," you hugged him by the arm that held his documents. You managed to read that the coronation would take place in a couple of days.

The king's absence from the castle was a valuable opportunity that you didn't intend to waste. You quickened your pace through the halls, trying to get to his office before anyone could see you. With relief, you noticed that the door was open. You quickly looked to both sides, making sure that no one was watching as you infiltrated like the breeze itself.

Studying the enemy: the first step, the most crucial. Your gaze studied the place completely. The walls were clean, there were only a few tables with small rock decorations, and there was a large desk in the center of the room. The absence of eccentric luxuries made it seem like no one had been there in a while. You sat down in the leather chair in front of the desk. The surface was bare, but the 7 drawers hid secrets, you sensed it. There was one along the desk and three in each column. You noticed that they were all protected with four-digit combination locks. There were 9,999 possible combinations, and the potential answers seemed endless. Important dates? Memorable events? Even numbers? Consecutive numbers? The possibilities were endless, but time was still running out. The king could return at any moment; you needed to act quickly and accurately.

You began guessing, inserting the code 0500, the year King Sukuna conquered the Kamo Kingdom to make it his own. None of the drawers opened with that hypothesis. Then you entered the date he conquered the Jogo Kingdom, 0998, just last year. Nothing. You sat down on the dark leather chair, thinking of what other possible combinations you could introduce. You held your head before sighing heavily as you realized, again, that you didn't know the king well. You probably never would.

You quickly realized one very important factor as you looked at the volcanic rock decorations. This had been King Jogo's office before your king came. This was the old desk where the volcano king had ordered more humans to be killed to satisfy his curses. For that reason, the tyrant didn't make the combinations. You weren't supposed to think like King Sukuna, but like the late King Jogo.

You realized that was why everyone knew the story of King Jogo, to open the 7 drawers that hid his secrets after his passing. You remembered the mural, made by Kenjaku, that told his story to glory. King Jogo was born on the 22nd day of the seventh month of the year 330, you entered the code 2207. The safety latches clicked, opening the first wide drawer completely before you. There were only office supplies such as fancy pens, reams of blank paper, pencils and official seals. It was the first drawer, you couldn't give up now. You were on the right track.

Day 8 of the eighth month of the year 450, King Jogo led the curses of the southern forest to new lands to the west. You opened the second drawer to discover ancient documents of the late king with no current value. You had to keep trying. On The 30th of the fifth month of the year 455, the Kamo kingdom declared the bloodiest war in history on King Jogo. The third drawer opened, nothing related to King Sukuna again. You went through the important anniversaries, but each drawer contained nothing about the upcoming war. You opened 6 of the 7 drawers with the information available on the mural, but none of them had anything useful to you. Only one drawer was missing, and you had no idea what the passcode could be.

“Think, it must be just as obvious,” you motivated yourself in a whisper, hitting your forehead gently with the palm of your hand.

You reviewed the mural in detail that went from his birth to the creation of the volcano. A record of his entire immaculate life. Everything was there… except his death. It was impossible for King Jogo to know the date of his own death, but the one who defeated him did.

You entered the date of King Jogo’s coronation again. It was a shame that 04/13 would now be remembered as the date of his death and renamed as the day King Sukuna took the lands that King Jogo had spent his entire life to build as his. You couldn't help but feel sorry for King Jogo, it was unfair that someone would come and take in less than a year what another took centuries to create.

You opened the drawer to find a single document. A thick 80-page portfolio titled Phase 3, with that font you already knew so well. You smiled in relief, you had found what you were looking for. Now you understood why Sukuna had spent a month hiding in his office. The document was gigantic and eerily perfect. It was a war plan so detailed, bordering on macabre, describing everything from how he would study the Zen'in's terrain while everyone was busy dancing to the declaration of war after a surprise attack on the castle.

It was impossible for you to read the entire plan before the king arrived, so you only focused on the eye-catching headlines. When you looked at it that way, the plan was relatively simple. Step 1: Study the Zen'in. Step 2: Create the heir. Step 3: Ensure that the heir can replace King Sukuna in the future. Step 4: Surprise attack the Zen'in. Step 5: Declare war on the sorcerer kingdoms.

“He’s going to declare war on the entire world?” You stammered in shock.

This was much worse than you imagined. The king was confident enough that he could defeat the most powerful sorcerers in the world to conquer their lands. You clenched the document in an attempt not to throw it across the room from the helplessness you felt. You were on the side of the greatest monster in the new world. The thought of Sukuna sitting on the corpses of all the kings in the world twisted your stomach.

Despite being a single plan, it was divided into several sections in case something went off the original plan such as: what to do in case the Zen’in or another sorcerer kingdom attacks first, what to do if he doesn’t find a mother for the heir soon or what to do if his future heir dies in infancy. The king seemed to have everything under control. If some of his plans failed, he had already planned his success.

You turned the pages carefully so as not to bend any page or leave any mark that you read it. Something that caught your attention was that the entire document was written in pencil, which was rare for Sukuna because he always uses ink to write his official documents. So this had to be a copy. If this was the copy, the original had to be in the castle of Sukuna's kingdom. That didn't matter now. You already knew the plan, it was time to make the first move. But now you weren't fighting for yourself, but for humanity.

Sukuna returned to the castle after an extensive inspection of the kingdom, making sure there were no more rebel groups that threatened his imminent coronation. He hadn't found a reason to kill any curse, which was favorable for future order, although unsatisfactory for his growing boredom. It had been a long time since he had slit someone's throat, and he was beginning to miss the feeling of possession he felt over the lives of others. Kenjaku greeted him with a solemn bow, accompanying him along with Mahito and Hanami as they made their way through the vast halls of the castle.

“Do you want to eat, a bath, or both?” Kenjaku offered.

“Just the bath,” Sukuna replied as he climbed the spiral staircase to the second floor. “I’ll be writing the log in the office,” he announced.

Sukuna walked through the remaining halls until he reached his new naked office, taking a moment to get used to the space that so reflected his dominance. Opening the door, he paused upon noticing your presence. There you were, leaning over his desk, trying to force open the top drawer with obvious frustration. It seemed you hadn’t yet realized that you had to use a password to open it. With your brow furrowed and whispering threats into the drawer as if you could intimidate him, you had an adorable, defiant air that almost drew a smile from him. But, of course, that wasn’t the point.

"Oh, welcome back..." You stuttered nervously, stepping away from the drawer as if you weren't doing anything wrong.

"Who told you could be here?" Sukuna scolded you coldly, entering the place.

"Nobody," you murmured, avoiding his gaze like a dog who just bit its owner's shoes. "I just wanted to borrow a paper and a pencil."

"For what?" Sukuna crossed his arms over his chest, not very convinced of your true intentions.

"For…" You quickly looked for a good excuse. "To do the homework Kenjaku asked me to do," you answered confidently.

"Nice try. I asked Kenjaku to stop the lessons so he could focus on preparing for the coronation," Sukuna explained. “Damn! Now how do I get out of here?” You were in quicksand, one wrong move, and you'll sink into your own trap.

"You're right, you caught me," you stammered out a confession. “I’m just… planning a surprise for him,” you whispered secretly, even though no one else was in the room.

Sukuna frowned, puzzled. A surprise? For him? Why? He actually hated surprises; the idea that something happening outside his control was deeply irritating to him. However, the fact that this surprise came from you sparked an unexpected and captivating curiosity in him.

“What kind of surprise?” He arched his eyebrow. You let out a laugh full of tenderness.

“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise anymore,” you chuckled.

Sukuna blushed slightly in embarrassment when he realized how silly his question had been. He avoided your gaze completely so that you wouldn’t notice.

“I just need a sheet of paper and a pencil, please,” you asked him politely, smiling from side to side.

Sukuna looked you up and down, evaluating you with that relentless gaze that seemed to cut through any hidden intentions. To his bewilderment, in your eyes he found only an imperturbable innocence, devoid of ulterior motives. Resigned, he walked over to the top drawer and, without further ado, entered the passcode you already knew, unlocking it with a light click. He pulled out a single blank sheet of paper and a black pencil, and handed them to you silently.

“Thank you, my king,” you said goodbye before leaving the office.

You closed the door behind you and smiled at the sight of the materials in your hands. He had taken the fact that you needed only one sheet of paper literally, but it didn’t matter, that alone assured you that the first step would go perfectly. “Twat,” you mocked silently, before hurrying to the library. Thus began phase one of your war plan. Sukuna would never see it coming.

Meanwhile, hot water enveloped Sukuna’s body, scented candles filled the surrounding air, and a damp towel covered his tired eyes. He took a deep breath, letting himself be carried away by the tranquility of the bubble bath. Without realizing it, he had fallen asleep under the soft sound of the fountain in the bathtub. It was not intentional; his eyelids simply closed little by little, and suddenly, the weight of royalty, the pressure of the coronation and the desire for everything to be perfect seemed to abandon him for a moment. The last few months were piling up on him: the planning of the war, the conquest, the imminent coronation... and you. Especially you, who with your innocent look and your strawberry-flavored words had taken him out of his comfort zone, challenging him in a way he was no longer willing to ignore.

He opened his eyes heavily as he felt the cold water that was once warm. He remembered that day when he took a bath with you that he once considered ordinary. His mind conjured up your image. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, your soapy hair, your bare skin shining against the water, your arms wrapped around your chest in case he tried to do something lustful. You slowly approached him, positioning yourself between his thighs. You brought your wet fingers to your parted lips to kiss them softly. Sukuna gulped at the sight, his heart in his throat at what was about to happen.

“May I have a kiss, oh my great king?” You asked innocently as you tried to join your fingers to his lips in an indirect kiss.

Sukuna kicked the water out of anger as he returned to harsh reality. From the reflection of the mirror in front of him, he saw his cheeks flushed as he remembered you in such a lustful way when it hadn't happened like that. He only showered you because it seemed annoying to see you dirty, that was all. He threw in the towel so he wouldn't see himself in that hole of love he had sunk into before realizing it. He shook his wet hair like a dog before getting out of the tub. He hung the towel around his waist and reluctantly dried his hair with a smaller one.

He laid down on the bed to watch the starry night that peeked out from the balcony. He was tired of how every time he tried to emotionally detach himself from you, nothing worked. And it was all your fault. Even though he ignored you, was cold to you or left you aside, you still treated him with the same tenderness as always, even more than before. Why couldn't you act like a scared little mouse, like when you were his servant? Had he lost his touch?

Sukuna pulled one of his pillows to lie down comfortably, not taking his eyes off the firmament that accompanied him in his concern. Suddenly, a crunchy sound caught his attention. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of the stowaway in his bed. It was a heart-shaped letter. He immediately took it and sat up to inspect it. It was a square sheet folded in four that was cut at the corners so that it was shaped like a heart that when opened would form a flower. It had a cute frame made of small hand-drawn flowers. It had no name, but it was obvious who it was from. His fingers caressed the paper, wondering if he should open it. He shook his head to think clearly, it was stupid that he was so nervous about opening a stupid letter. He gathered his courage and unfolded it:

Dear King Sukuna:

I hope this letter finds you well. I know I should be brave and tell you this to your face, but I don't have the guts to do so. My heart overflows with excitement and nervousness every time I see you pass by, it is so full of you that I can hardly call it mine. It beats like crazy until I beg it to stop before it kills me with love. It may seem strange to you, but you have grown flowers in my deserted heart. Sometimes I cry out to the moon what I feel for you, and she tells me about the sun in understanding. This feeling confuses and torments me, but I am willing to lose myself for you. I hope you understand my feelings, although I don't expect you to reciprocate, I just wanted to make sure you knew.

With all my love, you already know.

The towel fell from shock, as did his cold demeanor. He read the letter over and over again until he memorized it. His entire face and neck turned a deeper shade of crimson every time his matching eyes reread the letter with great attention. His feet swung in the air like a teenager in love. He had forgotten for a second that he was a cruel tyrant who was capable of killing a nation to transform into a man in love with a sweet princess, something out of a fairy tale. Never in his life did he think he would receive a love letter. A physical proof that someone wanted to be by his side for the rest of their lives. Someone loved Sukuna. That simple sentence sounded like something surreal. Sukuna rolled around in bed as he squealed with excitement, knowing that you felt exactly the same as he felt for you. He laid back down on the bed with a big smile plastered on his face.

“I love you too, Y/n,” he whispered, hugging the letter to his chest.

Masterlist.

taglist:

Tag list: @bbnbhm @pxnellian @kbirdieee2540 @konigswifeyforlifey @kyo-kyo1 @calico-cheriies @imas1mpp @alone-the-honored-one @vlads-dracula3 @bigraga-sk @neeke-lilac02 @shaazd @airandyeah @energiepie @awkward-walking-potato @delightfully-studying @catobsessedlady @danniwerner

(let me know if you want to be tagged in next chapters!)

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totheidiot · 1 month ago

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even though i think that even if they both lived and started getting romantically involved, they would never be the type to have children, a mikalight child is still. a very funny concept to me. take a walk with me and hear me out.

this child is the product of light and mikami, you bet your ass that kid is going to be a Perfectionist. a Total Freak about it as well. the most meticulous and pedantic child you have ever seen in your entire life. top of the class, student council president, to the point where it's annoying. very academic individual, very smart.

light and mikami would totally try to rub their beliefs onto that poor child. from a very young age, they are going to have strong and vocal beliefs about justice and good and bad, very knowledgable on those stuff as well. there is this person on tumblr who will sometimes make jokes about having a marxist son and one of the posts were something about the son talking to their classmates and the classmates bring up the topic of cartoons or other children stuff but all the son is allowed to read. is the communist manifesto. i imagine that mikalight child is something like that, except with law. their classmates will be talking about something like pokemon and they'll turn to the mikalight child and go, "hi :) what's your favorite pokemon" and the child will stare at them and go "oh i don't watch that stuff" and in order to continue the conversation, the classmates would ask "oh! what do you like to do then?" and child is going to pause for a moment and go "hm. lately i have been very interested in analyzing the constitution of japan."

like mikami, i think this child would also help the bullied and the tormented kids as well but they wouldn't get bullied for it though. in my mind, light is like. those monster PTA moms, if a single thing happens to his child, he is going to blow a gasket and start threatening to sue. he would be a very scary parent, people will not be going against his kid.

as for mikami and light as parents: i think they'd be middling. high expectations for their child, they would want them to be a certain way and if the child goes against that, they'll get mad. light as a parent in general, he would definitely follow after soichiro's footsteps exactly. soichiro is the very foundation, he is doing exactly what his father did when he raised him. mikami on the other hand, hm i am not sure how he would do exactly. i do think he would be the antithesis to his own mother. between light and him though, i actually think mikami would be the one more interested in instilling a sense of justice into that kid. light would also try too of course, he would make his beliefs clear and try to set an example for his child but mikami would be the one who is more overzealous about it.

#🍂 arian's shit #death note #yagami light #light yagami #teru mikami #mikami teru #mikalight #i would love to hear more thoughts on mikalight parents and their child !!!#ALSO. OOPS. in the middle of writing the post i literally remembered that light kinda has a child #and mikami is that child's foster father #uh hm do with that detail whatever you will

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notmorbid · 8 months ago

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the verifiers.

dialogue prompts from the verifiers by jane pek.

you look like someone who makes lists for everything.

i'd like to hear your opinion before i tell you mine.

you're too nice for our family.

you act like you don't know me at all.

how strange that i used to worship ____.

we're not friends. we just pretend.

it's not a proper family gathering until everyone is upset.

killed anyone lately?

that's what i aim for: to be just a little less shitty than people expect me to be.

i feel sort of sleazy.

you're right. i haven't been fully honest with you.

i'm still figuring things out. what they might mean.

between deceiving and being deceived, i prefer the second option.

it always surprises me how surprising death is, when it's the one thing that's inevitable.

you don't know shit. don't try to pretend you do.

not all mistakes can be fixed.

neither admit nor deny. that's a very lawyerly approach.

take it, please. i'll feel better.

believing something for its convenience is at best negligence, and at worst culpability.

i don't trust anyone, except you.

how do you know what i like to read?

do you want me to help you take a picture?

it looks like your party's a success.

you're even sneakier than i thought.

i hate being told what to do.

guilt is the currency that our family traffics in.

i feel like i could ask you about anything, and you'd have something interesting to say.

walk it off. nothing hurt, right?

you've never known any of us.

well? aren't you going to say anything?

you never do anything for me.

don't tell me what i can and can't be like.

you don't deserve it. the way ____ loves you.

writers always talk about their characters like they're real.

let's pretend we're tourists.

i've been all fizzy with happiness, ever since we met.

you call it like it is.

i never meant to hurt you.

you can't always pick your weapons in your duels.

it's too late to change anything.

what if we take turns? we can answer each other's questions.

i know the truth is right there, but i can't see it.

here i am, crazy as ever.

all those little lies just make the truth feel worse.

i didn't mean anything by it. i just wanted it all to go away.

i love you, you little brat.

if you ever went away, there would be a hole in my world.

you millennials are unbelievable. all laziness and instant gratification.

i see you couldn't wait to get into more unnecessary danger.

is that a threat or a warning?

if i tell you, i'll have to get rid of you.

this is bigger than you know.

if you go any deeper, forget about getting out.

is there anywhere to eat in this wasteland of a neighborhood?

why do i feel like i've missed something?

did the english major make you such an annoying pedant, or were you always that way?

what's the point of knowing, if you don't do anything about it?

i always knew you were a romantic.

try to grow some balls.

you love me. i'm sure you do.

you become something, if you act that way for long enough.

is a digression into backstory really necessary?

can we get to the action?

you can be very persuasive.

we told each other everything.

you only ask to hang out when you want something from me.

i want someone like you. who isn't you.

are you having a quarter life crisis?

no matter what, you'll be okay. i'll make sure of it.

i'm having a bodysnatcher moment.

this would make a fantastic setting for a murder mystery.

people are constantly mistaking me for someone else.

i wish more people could think like you.

still trying to save the world?

i want the best for you. i always have.

damn, you're ruthless.

maybe i still don't know you at all.

you have to tell me the rest of it.

people tend to hear what they want to hear.

who do you think i want you to be?

#rp meme #sentence starters #ask memes #rp memes #rp prompts #inbox memes #ask meme

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longer-than-i-should-admit · 3 months ago

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(Mildly spoilery ramble about Solavellan and that damned lyre in [one of] Solas' hideout[s] below the cut.)

I am an inconsolable mess thinking about this sad old bastard knowing how to play that thing. For someone several millennia old it only makes sense he might have picked it up at some point a time or two. It's then only a logical extension of supposition to conclude that he might be able to sing, as well, as eloquent and measured with his words and cadence as he is. (Yes this is a Hallelujah post bc the brainrot's real.)

Imagine Rook freeing Solas from the Fade prison in preparation for all the stuff going on. He's weak and tired from the experience and needs to recoup a bit—not bedrest, but Rook hounds him to relax around the Lighthouse for a while and take it easy.

Lavellan's back, advising Rook or helping Varric or w/e. She's doing her best to give him space. It's awkward and it's tense and they barely even exchange words when they do happen to cross paths. (Did this place feel so small before? Rook wonders.)

Solas is obviously going stir crazy. He's read all the books in the library numerous times before. He cannot cast very much if he's to conserve his mana for whatever threats they face. He's decidedly a little burnt out on exploring the Fade, just for a while. He starts micro managing the crew, pedantic and critical at his worst due to boredom, stress, and worry all at once. They plead Rook to distract him, take him out to town somewhere to shop or some shit, anything.

So Rook brings him the lyre from his hideout in Minrathous. It's dusty by then and horribly out of tune, but no one dared to touch it. Rook isn't even sure that the Dread Wolf has any musical capabilities, wonders if this was part of one of his many ruses (never trust the humble guises of Fen'Harel, they think), but it's something to keep his hands busy, his mind occupied, and his mouth shut for a time.

Solas looks displeased, unimpressed. Put upon by Rook's unspoken meaning to keep himself busy and occupied and out of their way. He's unused to relying on others to carry the weight of such a task, but he acknowledges by now that the Veilguard knows what they're doing and does it well. Better than he could manage by himself.

So it works, for a while. They don't see him out and about. He recluses himself into his rooms and only emerges when he's hungry or someone comes to ask him for help—which does visibly improve his mood. Oftentimes he has pigments staining his hands and plaster smudged unconsciously across the glass-sharp arches of his cheeks, too. The furrow between his brows aren't so deep now that he's had some time to decompress, even if it was unwilling at first.

It doesn't last forever. Something happens. Rook defers to Lavellan. Solas overhears and protests. He doesn't want her involved, and Rook knows keenly by now that it's only in vain effort to keep her away from the immediate danger that the Evanuris pose. It's among the first times they've actually had an extended conversation and it's to argue. Varric told Rook that was normal for them—debating was one of their favorite pastimes, once upon a time, though for different reasons. Lavellan would provoke Solas into ranting to ruffle his feathers and to hear his passion. Solas would cave because he knew that even if she did not end up agreeing with his viewpoint on things, she would still hear him out and give him credit where it was due. A balance of the difference between knowledge and wisdom, a scale of moderation between righteous indignation and the humility of admitting the limitation of one's perspective and experience.

It's rife with undertones, however. Pointed remarks that Rook doesn't readily understand but can intuit easily enough. Rook didn't have to know that they were in a complicated (romantic?) situation to tell that there was much tension, history, and uncertainty in the undercurrents of their bickering. Rook steps in before it gets too vicious, watching with trepidation as the battle of wits and logic gave way to old hurts and unhealed wounds of emotions too strong to ignore during as dire times as these.

They part and put the length of the Lighthouse's grounds between them to clear the air. Rook sighs and wonders how in the Void they would be able to stop the end of the world if two lovers could not smooth things over long enough to cooperate.

That night, at supper, Solas emerges with a brumous cloud brewing over his shoulders (not literally, but just about; Rook can feel the charge of his mana as acutely as the tumult of his thoughts in the back of their mind) and takes a set next to the hearth, lyre in hand. Lavellan stiffens from her seat at the end of the table, watching him with wary and skeptical eyes. Solas' fingers thrum over the strings lightly, filling the abruptly silent room with a rasp of harmony...

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And he began to sing.

Rook doesn't recognize the song at first, but within the first couple of lines they watch Lavellan's eyes mist over. Soon enough, the meaning becomes clear: it's the tale of the Inquisitor—and thus her connection to Solas, the most he's ever revealed to any of the Veilguard intentionally or indirectly both. But Rook can tell that it means more to the Inquisitor than anyone else. His voice is plaintive and sincere, reverent like he uttered a benediction. Rook sees for the first time the strength that lay between them, the intimacy, the unique relationship only two unwilling religious visionaries could share.

Despite the tears glittering along her lashlines, Lavellan offers Solas a watery smile once he finishes and clears her throat before asking him if he remembered the shanty Maryden used to play in the Herald's Rest. Which one? Solas asks, looking an odd mixture of embarrassed and relieved at once with his ears flushed bright pink. Any of them, Lavellan supplies. I never knew you played. You never asked, Solas says, then amends with a gentler tone, but I never offered, either.

Things get better after that. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief that the two finally found some common ground upon which to make amends.

They learned that Lavellan could sing, too.

Their harmonies echoed through the arcane-saturated stones of the Lighthouse on some occasions after that, filling the empty rooms with steady rhythm, but not always in melody. The same cadence that guided Solas' ode to his once unwitting Herald seeped into their every shared conversation, be it about the Fade or anything else.

Rook found that it became one of their favorite songs—a missing piece they never noticed before. That Solas eventually thanked them for it was an added side benefit.

#fisara's scrawlings #dragon age #dav #dai #headcanons #the dread wolf | solas #the inquisitor #dav spoilers #the rook #Youtube

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kefirsart · 1 year ago

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Your favorite Jojo/Bro pairing? Can be romantic or platonic

My actually only Jojo × Jobro couple that I ship and my favorite of all is Jotakak!

I had a brainrot for them since 2020 when I watched the series for the first time and still didn't lose my interest.

Always liked the contrast between a rebelious always deadpan partner and that one nerdy and pedant that can bring at least some expresion on the other's face.

Yeah, I have a favorite dynamic...

#jotakak #jotaro kujo #noriaki kakyoin #my art

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eisforeidolon · 1 year ago

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Forgive me for restating the obvious, but I was reading through an old post and it just kind of hit me in a way it hadn't before: One of hellers' most fundamental disconnects with the show (and media literacy in general) is how they try to insist parallels establish romance.

SPN used parallels to couples and romantic tropes a lot in regards to the brothers. But it was never meant as a signal that they were romantically in love or to tell you something you otherwise couldn't figure out. It was to underline what we already knew from the entire rest of the story about how they were the most important people in each other's lives. It used romantic relationships because that's a central status typically reserved only for romantic relationships - that was part of the point.

Let's take an example or two. Dean compares himself and Sam to Jesse and Cesar from The Chitters. After interacting with them for a while, Dean is like, 'Haha, you fight just like brothers, almost as bad as Sam and me' and they say that it's more like an old married couple. This is Dean comparing an exact thing that actually happens between him and Sam, silly petty bickering, to something that exactly happens between a married couple. Likewise, let's take Dean's expression and the script note he's thinking about Sam's close call in Red Meat. Michelle is talking about watching the man she loves die and how nothing can be the same, and Dean is thinking about how he believed he lost Sam earlier that same episode and reacting to what she's saying. No one is under the impression that these are signposts telling you for the very first time that Sam and Dean are weirdly, claustrophobically close in a way that compares to romantic couples. They're quick moments which draw an underline on what you already know from the way they've acted towards each other for the entire preceding (and following) length of the show. If you cut either of those moments? It would change nothing about what we understand of Sam and Dean's relationship, because that's how using parallels in storytelling actually works.

Hellers want to insist that romantic couples and tropes being parallels to D/C in and of itself proves that D/C is romantic. Why else would SPN use couples and romantic tropes?!? Well, because SPN does that all the fucking time, maybe? Which is even before you get into how superficial the basis for their supposed parallels typically are.

Let's take an example or two. Hellers want to insist that Dean and Castiel were paralleled to David and Violet from Bloodlines because and I shit you not, one of them wore a tan coat. As well as the absurdly generic dialogue line, "I was there, where were you?" being used both in the backdoor pilot and in 6x20 by Dean. Aha! David and Violet are clearly stand-ins for Dean and Cas, and they were planning to run away together, so D/C is clearly romantic, BOOM! Except literally nothing about Dean and Castiel's actual relationship lines up with that. In no sense were Dean and Castiel ever planning to run away from their families together - not at the point where Dean was calling Castiel out for pretending he didn't know where Dean was if he really wanted advice or otherwise. Unlike the actual parallels with Sam and Dean, there is no underlying narrative base. Likewise, hellers want to insist that Castiel is Dean's Colette. Aha! Cain said Dean is living his life in reverse, and he killed Collette last and his brother first, so since he said Dean would kill Castiel before Sam, Castiel=Colette, and Colette was a romantic partner, so Dean lurves the angel! BOOM! Just for the sake of being pedantic, let's break this nonsense down one more time. Cain lists Crowley as well as Castiel as people Dean will kill before Sam. Collette was special to Cain because she saw everything he was, never gave up on him, and was able to get him to drop the blade. Which is literally what Sam does during the time Dean has the Mark - meanwhile Castiel tries to get Dean to not go and slaughter the Stynes and fails and is ready to give up and kill Dean after he goes demonic. Which doesn't even get into the part where ... Cain is literally just wrong in telling his little fairy tale. Dean is not him. When given the choice of killing his brother, Cain does it. When given the choice of losing control, Cain does it. Dean tries to get Death to shoot him into outer space and then kills Death rather than actually kill Sam. Dean and Dean's love for his brother are both far stronger than Cain is capable of understanding. So the parallel life thing? Is fundamentally hooey anyway. Again, there's no narrative there for a parallel to be drawing an underline on because none of their cobbled together meta resembles anything going on in the actual text. That's not how storytelling uses parallels or any other kind of subtext, by creating something entirely separate and expecting the general audience to decipher it. Though it's no surprise they try to insist that a show would do that, because they have nothing else.

TLDR; Their entire argument is that a comparison to a romantic couple makes two other characters' relationship automagically romantic because reasons. Which even putting aside the lack of validity in their parallels ... continues to be a boldly idiotic statement given the number of actually textual comparisons the show makes between Sam & Dean and romantic couples. Again, it's no wonder they freaked the fuck out over that forehead touch, because they very fundamentally refused to understand what SPN was actually doing on literally any level.

#destihellers #destiew #long post

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physalian · 7 months ago

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What No One Tells You About Writing #7 —The Editing Edition

Today’s list is all about the post-draft process, as I slog through another round of it.

Part 6

Part 5

Part 4

1. No one cares about your book baby as much as you do

Trying to say this as objectively as possible, but it remains an ugly truth. Your WIP might very well be the most important project on your mind for months. Unless you have a significant other totally and completely invested in your writing journey, no one else will have the same priorities you do concerning your beta readers and editors. They all have their own lives and jobs to think about.

Whether it’s your editors not approaching your book with the same level of emotion as you do, or not working on your timetable as quickly as you’d want them to, your book’s biggest cheerleader will remain you, the author, and no one else. Doesn’t mean your book is bad, niche, or boring, it’s just not as special to anyone else as it is to you.

2. Your editors will have their arbitrary hills to die on

I have said this in other ways before, but editors aren’t robots (or at least they shouldn’t be), and we all have our own reasons for not liking books, and those reasons probably aren’t reflective of you as an author. You can have an editor with moral objections to some of your themes and characters, but who is still quite competent at critiquing pacing and flow.

Or one who just fundamentally dislikes a side character or a romantic subplot, while agreeing that it is well-written. Or one who does not agree with how a scene should be told, what elements it should include, what they deem offensive, etc. This is why it’s important to have as many eyes on it as you can for a full spectrum of opinions. One editor might hate a scene that five others love. You can’t please everyone.

3. This is where you will hate your own narrative the most

The amount of times you will read over the same lines of dialogue, the same jokes, the same introspective pining, the same gushy romantic scene, can be incredibly frustrating and demoralizing. You’ll second-guess yourself constantly. You’ll wonder if it really is that funny or that romantic or that compelling. You’ll convince yourself that it’s dumb or pedantic or pretentious and consider deleting entire scenes and characters.

When you’re neck-deep in cleaning up crutch words and fixing syntax and arguing with yourself over the placement of a period or a comma or whether or not to use “said” or a different verb, there’s not much fun to be had. Go slow, step away from the project when it gets too much, and come back with fresh eyes later. You do your book baby no favors editing with an attitude.

4. Your favorite elements will end up on the cutting room floor

This is why I think it's important to archive your deleted scenes. Some characters, important lines of dialogue, or themes and motifs get axed as a byproduct of deleting the scenes that contain them. You can either shuffle those beats around to other areas of your book, or save them for a later WIP, or a sequel.

Sometimes your book isn't what you thought it would be, and that doesn't make it any lesser for what it is.

5. However long you think it’s going to take, guess again

As mentioned above, no one works on your time table. Beta readers can be very hard to find as the definition of what beta reading looks like isn’t very set in stone. How I beta read is very different from the work delivered by some that I hire as we all have different elements that we focus on.

Some try to edit your book into a story they want to read, overriding your voice as an author. Some only give line-edit feedback where you’re looking for more big picture notes, or vice versa. Some give less feedback than you think the narrative warrants.

Some skip entire scenes and leave you unknowing if there was just nothing special to say about them. Some will miss important edits that later editors slap with valid criticisms. Some just quit, and you have to start over. Some will give you vague feedback, or contradictory feedback, or feedback that just isn’t helpful and you have to do your best with what’s been given to you.

Editing is a very long and tedious process and vetting editors can get mighty difficult when we all have our own stipulations for what we think a quality edit means. It costs a pretty penny, too, if you’re like me with WIPs that consistently top 100k words.

—

In the end, editing remains vital to any story, original or fanfic or otherwise, if you want it to be as successful as it can be. I don’t think there is a perfect, flawless narrative out there, even by the greats. You’ve already dedicated so much of your time and effort into your work, do it justice by giving it the TLC it deserves.

#editing #book edit #writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #what no one tells you about writing

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