#also like. how... how was she allowed to post this

[thedreadvampy]

The (133k 💀) notes on this post are FULL of people referencing 1984. Like I would guess about every third reblog with tags/comments mentions 1984.

And I'm not saying 1984 doesn't have relevance but I'm actually genuinely interested that in like 60k reblogs, I'm not sure anyone's made the literary comparison I would make, which is Farenheit 451.

See, cause 1984 is about state suppression of information. But Farenheit 451 is about the idea that, as the state of the world gets more distressing, people become increasingly hostile to the idea of discomfort, and refuse to acknowledge or speak about things that affect them. The first event of the story is the main character's wife attempting suicide, but when he tries to talk to her about what's wrong, she reacts as if the only problem is that he's talking about something negative.

So I kinda wonder why so many reblogs agree that 1984 is the reference point for this

maybe some of it is the role 1984 plays in the cultural canon and some of it is that, while it's a good book, a non-zero amount of F451 is also based on 'political correctness gone mad! shakespeare is cancelled because of Woke!'

but also

I think it speaks to the difference between what I was thinking of when I made this post (that people tend to a) confuse discomfort with harm and b) treat the word for a subject as the source of discomfort about the subject) to how the majority of people seem to read the post (social media censorship is stealing our language)

cause 1984 is about imposed censorship. and the majority of discussions mentioning 1984 on this post are referencing social media companies and occasionally governments legislating against certain language or topics. language is Taken From You by others, with the deliberate purpose of silencing dissent.

but Farenheit 451, while it includes very similar types of state suppression and manufactured consent, doesn't really frame the problem as originating from a dictatorial state but from our own communities' fear, looking for a target and for ways to feel comfortably innocent. That's not necessarily a more complete read than the 1984 one but it's closer to what I was originally thinking of.

Not talking about rape doesn't protect people from the effects of rape, just like not taking about depression or war or pain doesn't stop the characters in F451 trying to kill themselves to the degree there's a special emergency service devoted to undoing suicides. But people react as if it does.

And there's a whole lot I could also get into about how I think both this problem and the literary comparison connects to things like cosy fandom culture, and the proliferation of blockbuster franchises, and the fact that people are more up in arms about ship wars than actual genocide, and the Sex Scenes In Media discourse, and the discomfort around public expressions of 'deviant' sexualities or gender, and how we discuss discomfort as if it was harm, but those are different posts and this post is about language.

and 1984 is a perfectly apt (or doubleplus good) comparison, I just think it has the potential for fully externalising something which we need to also take some direct community responsibility for. It isn't just about what you're Allowed to say or what people say to you, it's about what role discomfort plays in our own minds and whether we feel it's an inherent evil to be uncomfortable.

you gotta be able to say "die"

you gotta be able to say "suicide"

you gotta be able to talk about "sex"

they're uncomfortable topics, YEAH for SURE

because LIFE is uncomfortable. Death and suicide and sex and pain are straight up going to happen. not having words for the way it discomforts you doesn't make it more comfortable, it just makes you less able to reach out about it.

even more vital, you gotta be able to say words like "rape", "abuse", "queer" or "racist". cause we fought fucking hard to name those experiences. to identify "rape" as distinct from "sex" and "racism" as distinct from "acceptable behaviour" and "queer" as distinct from "invert"

like the function of communication is not to minimise immediate discomfort. we gotta be able to talk about stuff that's hard or sucks or causes difficult conversations.

[chronicsyd]

I'm gonna be so serious, y'all are remembering POWDER and Ekko and not JINX and Ekko when screaming about how much you "wanted Timebomb endgame over Caitvi"

shoving JINX in a relationship with her current mental state is not a good writing choice whatsoever, because Ekko literally had to keep rewinding time because she kept trying to kill herself. If Anything, That relationship would be rushed and fanservice because they would have jumped the gun in 2 episodes vs the 2 seasons it took for Caitvi and showing their ups and downs throughout their whole relationship.

The alternate universe works because Powder doesn't become Jinx and the two don't separate, unlike this universe where the two have been at odds for 7 years and almost kill each other back in Ep 7 of S1.

"But Cait never said sorry!" she didn't really have to, because Vi never stopped being in love with the girl that she Knows Cait is at heart, the Cocktail Molotov scene in Act 2 makes that VERY apparent. Cait saying that she was waiting for Vi to recover to address Jinx is the start of it because Act 1 Cait wouldn't have even Considered doing that, because she was so gung-ho about putting a bullet into Jinx that she Demanded Vi move out of the way for her to do so. She holds herself accountable with the mistakes she's made ("We can't erase our mistakes. None of us." that wasn't just a line targeted at Jinx to prove a point, there's deeper meaning behind it), and moving the guards out of the cell proving that she trusts Vi and her judgment on Jinx is that apology, Caitlyn has always been an "acts of service" kinda person over being a "verbal" kinda person; it's all over the place in S1 but Especially here in S2. But even after she takes Vi's shirt off, you could tell by her eyes and body language that she was most likely going to stop herself again to apologize for hitting her because the wound was in the same spot she initially hit, which was part of the lead up for This wound to even happen, but Vi's the one that just pulls her back in instead.

I'm also gonna add on that Vi thinks she made the wrong choice in trusting Jinx and thinking Jinx's changed because Jinx locked her in the cell and ran away again. So why in the Hell would Vi go chasing after her Again to be met with the same result time and time again? Vi isn't responsible for Jinx's mental health and y'all saying that are just weird. And I think it's apparent that Stillwater probably wasn't even in the top 10 things in her head being with Caitlyn, she was just running wild on emotions that she hasn't allowed herself to feel like-- Ever. And even if it Was Vi probably would have said she wasn't comfortable being in a jail cell of all places.

What was I talking about? Oh right, Timebomb.

Like Yes, it's shitty that Ekko doesn't get a happy ending considering he's the most unproblematic in the entire show. But people tend to forget that at the end of the day, Arcane is a TRADGEDY. It's not She-ra, it's not The Owl House, it wasn't going to be wrapped up in a neat little bow where everyone gets to smile and walk into the sunset with their loved ones, especially considering the fact that this season's being used as build ups to other stories, it's relatively clear that this isn't the last we're going to see of a lot of these characters. When they come back into play? well... who's to say?

But also, let's address that a lot of the Caitvi hate is just straight up homophobia at this point because a lot of people can understand Mel's admission to manipulating Jayce as an apology but Cait's actions we're suddenly braindead and need shit completely spelled out. like good lord I'm so tired of this. Y'all would NEVER have survived Catradora let me tell ya...

(My next post is gonna be a long winded rant about Maddie so stay tuned for that...)

[kadytimberfox]

fuck I'm thinking about the last page of unveiling again and how it's literally The Point of The Video Game Destiny condensed into like maybe 8 paragraphs

like THAT'S IT!!!!! THAT'S WHAT WE LEARNED!!!!! THAT'S THE POINT OF IT ALL!!!!!!!

the interesting thing about this passage is that you absolutely can just replace the word "Darkness" with the word "Fascism" in the last graf there but the Darkness in Destiny is NOT synonymous with fascism. Mara Sov is absolutely NOT saying that "a balanced world needs a little fascism in it to keep things honest". In fact, that kind of thinking is what allows for unchecked, thriving Darkness in the real world.

No, the Darkness is not fascism. The Darkness is Memory, which is co-opted by fascism. "Remember when life was great?" "Don't you want to just live in that great moment forever?" That's exactly what the Witness offers, in the end: to be frozen in time in the exact moment of your greatest joy, dead but never dying, trapped in amber and never permitted to live again. Because to live would be to acknowledge the impermanence of that moment, the reality that existence is not and cannot be one single glorious moment. One Final Shape, you might say.

What is it that Riven said? "Even paradise is a prison if you can't leave." She was talking about a literal paradise that was a literal prison for her but that's okay, the metaphor is good too.

I think that Destiny thinks that Memory is necessary and good for humans to have. But Memory is not an ideology. Memory does not grant the power to end suffering. Memory isn't even real. Not the way Life -- existence -- mortality -- Light -- is real.

Anyway that's why Destiny is anti-fascist. There are also a lot of other reasons why Destiny is anti-fascist like the Worm Gods and the Hive and Sword Logic as an extended metaphor for late-stage capitalist society but that's for a different post. Plus someone else who's better at writing than me has probably already said everything I would've said about that.

[mythalism]

in my rook hating mindset now after that post this morning and cannot stop thinking about how they are literally the worst protagonist maybe in any story i have ever experienced JRHGKJERHGJERG. and like if you love your rook i am not saying you shouldn't. if you love your rook i am so so happy for you genuinely but you are also probably brilliant and have a huge brain because what the game gives you to build off of is so abysmal.

i literally cannot stop thinking about how insane it is that rook literally causes a double blight and worldwide catastrophe on a scale which thedas has not seen probably since the creation of the veil itself and just. experiences no remorse. and the story tries to tell us thats a good thing and makes them better than the villain/their foil. JHREGJKHERGJKHERG. HELLO?!!??!?!?! literally no one ever goes "hey maybe you shouldnt have done that" except solas and hes framed as the VILLAIN!!! WHAT!!!!!!!!!! hawke blames themselves for not putting the pieces together fast enough when a bouquet of white lilies arrived at their door? the narrative gleefully condemn anders with the immediate opportunity to kill him for his crimes. nearly every single character in origins immediately puts the entirety of the responsibility for the fifth blight on loghain's shoulders, regardless of the CLEAR SUGGESTION that the battle at ostagar could never have been won. and all of these makes sense for the world and characters!!!!! of course hawke would blame themselves for their families deaths when they were given the role of protector by leandra after malcom dies. of course the city of kirkwall is going to want anders dead for his extreme act of violence rather than start the uncomfortable process of acknowledging the beloved chantry's complicity in large scale abuse happening in the mage circles!!!! of course alistair and the warden are going to blame loghain for the blight and cailan's death!!!! it doesnt matter if they are right or wrong, it makes sense for their perspective and worldview to feel this way!!!!

have yall gotten the low approval conversations in inquisition????? solas's "Inquisitor. Tell me. How does it feel? Being you. Are you blissfully unaware or, deep inside, is some part of you banging on the walls, screaming?" cassandra getting drunk and practically spitting in your face how she regrets raising you up to such power? blackwalls' "Are you proud of yourself, of what you’ve built here? How about the lives you’ve destroyed along the way? Given much thought to those lately? Is this Inquisition all you wanted it to be? Because I’m disappointed. All I see is a gang of thugs led by a self-serving tyrant." and these SCATHING comments from those who once believed in the inquisitor enough to join their cause come from decisions that affect a fraction of the population that dies under the southern double blight. people will rip the inquisitior to fucking shreds when they fuck up. THATS THE ENTIRE POINT OF THE TRESPASSER DLC EHRGKJHERGKJHERG. like holy shit every decision carries the weight of "oh my god whos gonna hate me. who is going to die because of my choice. how is this going to come back to bite me." have we forgotten what its like to return to varric after leaving hawke in the fade and confess what we did? the call we just made? to look him in the eye and tell him that we sacrificed his best friend? WHY IS ROOK NEVER ASKED TO PARTICIPATE IN ANY OF THIS INTROSPECTION?????????? TO EVALUATE HOW THEIR DECISIONS AFFECT THOSE AROUND THEM BOTH PERSONALLY AND SOCIETY AS A WHOLE????? OH MY GODDDDD

the regret prison scene is so insane. first its insane because its solas at his best and most cunty. but secondly it makes no fucking sense even if im largely distracted by pookie being fun and villainous. solas tries desperately to play up rook's regrets during their conversations and we are supposed to believe that it was that manipulation that allowed him to swap with them in the prison. how does this actually work? blood magic? dont worry about it, kitten. but then when we get into the prison.... the only two regrets that manifest are things that just happened within the last 3 hours - your two party sacrifices. lets be clear that these are not even real sacrifices because literally all of these people volunteer to go and then argue about why they should go. this is so fucking stupid. then rook looks at the statues and says "i dont regret this because this was your choice". YEAH????? OF COURSE YOU DONT FUCKING REGRET IT WHY WOULD YOU. HELLO???? THIS WAS NOT ROOKS CHOICE THIS WAS ROOK JUST SAYING "SURE I GUESS". AND THEN THATS ENOUGH! THEY JUST LEAVE BC THEY CONQUERED THEIR REGRETS!?!?!?!?!??! WHAT!!!!!! there is no discussion of rook being responsible for the blight in the south that we find out via ooc inquisitior letter has KILLED LITERALLY EVERYONE. no suggestion that their recklessness and willingness to act WITHOUT ALL THE INFORMATION at the ritual is the reason for every single thing the evanuris do following their release.

and let me be very clear bc i know this was causing drama on twitter last week. i am not saying the double blights is rook's fault. i actually dont think it is their fault, although i do think they are stupid and reckless and shouldn't have acted so carelessly. but although rook is responsible for ghilly and edgar breaking free, rook is not responsible for the their actions following that freedom, and rook is not at fault for being put into an impossible situation (the need to stop solas's ritual) without all of the information on what the ritual was and what stopping it might incur. however, the double blight is rook's fault in the same way that the veil, the fall of the elvhen empire, elven mortality, and every demon's existence is solas's fault; which is to say, it is and it is not. solas was backed into a corner, in a desperate situation without knowledge of the potential consequences, and was forced to make a decision for the good of the world when he imprisoned the evanuris and blight with the veil. rook was backed into a corner, in a desperate situation without knowledge of the potential consequences, and was forced to make a decision for what they thought was the good of the world when they interrupted solas's ritual. but while solas feels immense guilt and responsibility for the choice he made, rook feels.... absolutely none. and the game tells us that... they're right? people should just not take accountability for anything? i will give credit where it's due here that varric's contribution to this scene is quite good and his line where rook tries to take responsibility for his death and varric says smth like "no, that was my own choice and you dont get to take that from me" is B A N G E R. WHERE WAS THAT ENERGY IN THE REST OF THIS FUCKING GAME!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?

THAT was the lesson solas needed to learn, not that his regret was wrong but that it was MISPLACED!!!!!!!!! and that is why it is mythal acknowledging that their burden is shared and not his alone is the culmination of his entire story and what finally allows him to move on. pride stands alone, wisdom seeks out the input of others to make an informed and wise decision. this is also why he leaves such breadcrumbs for the inquisitor (a high approval one, at least) because he respects their opinion and their input and their existence and the way they treat him turns him back into wisdom from pride. this is why a romanced inquisitor mentions his name being pride and how its possible that hes not even CAPABLE of changing his mind because it would be so against his nature, and he needs someone whose opinion he values to show him the way. his flaw is his SELF INFLICTED LONELINESS!!!!! NOT HIS REGRET. varric even fucking says this in some random banter you get with his ghost in the infirmary but im too lazy to go find it on my desktop. its something about how he sees attachments as a weakness rather than a strength. his pride causes him to take on responsibility that is not his, his wisdom -> pride corruption has led him to believe he is the only one capable of fixing the world's problems and he will destroy both himself and those he loves in the process. he asserts that he is just a man but is unable to stop making decisions for the world like a god.

THIS is the solas/rook foil that should have been: rook relies on their friends and that reliance is ESSENTIAL; after all, the neve/bellara and davrin/harding sacrifice is essential to win. in contrast solas refuses to rely on anyone, and this isolation makes him increasingly cruel. when he has no one to mirror the way a spirit should, he becomes Pride, too proud and too god-like. his attachments make him more human. he is terrified of depending on others and will kill them rather than risk the vulnerability of dependence after what it has done to him (mythal, felassan). he has to unlearn this avoidance and fear, he has to admit that there "could have been a better way" that someone else saw and he did not. he must learn that he does not have all the answers. he is not Pride. its NOT that rook doesnt experience regret and doesn't take accountability for mistakes while solas is trapped by his own regrets. the message we got instead is so incoherent. but it was SO CLOSE TO BEING GOOD. the bones of this are littered everywhere in both the game and in the datamined content and for some reason it just could not be brought together in a way that makes sense.

the message that rook is "right" and better for not having regrets is genuinely insane, especially when the "regrets" they have to conquer are literally just. other peoples decisions. the fact that rook has the audacity to say to solas that he could never escape the prison while they could so easily because he is trapped by his own regret as if rook is better than him is genuinely so fucking dumb it makes me want to claw my eyes out for having been forced to read it. rook sacrifices nothing and learns nothing. the sacrifices within the game belong to the characters that make them, rook does not order people to their deaths in the same way that solas or even THE INQUISITOR do. rook never is asked to grapple with the fact that they ACCIDENTALLY unleashed a double blight, no matter how good their intentions. WHY DOES NO ONE BLAME THEM FOR THIS???? regardless of if it is their fault or not, the objective truth of fault does not matter, what matters is that you make decisions and PEOPLE JUDGE YOU FOR THEM!!!!!!!!! THIS IS LIKE FOUNDATIONAL TO THESE GAMES JEHRGJKREHGJKRHG. this is what the entire game is about doing to solas. judging him. based on his choices. and the game clearly wants you to have empathy for him in the end. but its so OBVIOUS that the vessel for building up that empathy should have been ROOK EXPERIENCING THE SAME THING!!! THE SAME JUDGEMENT!!! THE SAME GROWTH!!!!! FEELING THE BURDEN OF THE WORLD ON THEIR SHOULDERS. FEELING THE DREAD OF GUILT AND SHAME AND REGRET. TRYING TO DEFEND THEIR INTENTIONS!!! I DIDNT MEAN TO I DIDNT MEAN TO IT WAS A MISTAKE!!!! LEARNING THAT THEY HAVE TO OWN UP TO IT BUT THEY ALSO HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO MOVE FORWARD!!!!!! HELLO!??!?!?!?! they BARELY even express remorse for the treviso/minrathous sacrifice, even when faced with neve/lucanis's anger they just go "a decision had to be made and i made it". well. YEAH? LIKE YEAH THATS RIGHT BUT HUMANS HAVE FEELINGS??? YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE A PERSON, NOT A BLANK SLATE VIDEO GAME PROTAGONIST!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ITS OKAY TO FEEL BAD!!!! YOU MADE A DECISION THAT RESULTED IN PEOPLE DYING. ANY HUMAN BEING WOULD FEEL BAD ABOUT THIS. ITS KIND OF FUCKING WEIRD THAT YOU DO NOT. HOW IS ROOK JUST BORN BEING OK WITH THIS. ITS SO ROBOTIC AND ARTIFICIAL LOL

rooks actions are such a clear, perfect parallel to solas putting up the veil and the guilt that haunts him afterwards that i KNOW it was intended that way and somehow it just got completely shafted. it literally feels like they did have a coherent parallel going and for some reason were forced to change directions last minute and thus we got some mish mashed barely cobbled together incoherent nonsense with clear echoes of its former self. instead rook has no flaws, makes perfect judgements at all time, has unconditional support from all of their friends who also make perfect judgements, are immune to making mistakes, and the message is its actually just really easy to not have regrets if you just choose right every time and refuse to take responsibility for anything as long as you had good intentions :D

[warblogs17282]

Satan, the courts and classism against imps.

My mind is going through 50 different thoughts right now, so I thought I'd make a post on the classism seen within the courts.

Short answer: Satan and the people within the courts are quite classist, with there only being a few examples of people not being classist within the court sequences.

Long Answer:

Let's start with the first instance of classism we see within the courts, Loona gets treated differently because she's a hellhound. Sure while they share a few rough similarities with dogs, and people do put muzzles over dogs to prevent them from biting, that really isn't needed here in the slightest, it just really feels like Loona is getting degraded here, being treated worse than the imps, with Loona having more restraints than the imps purely because she's a hellhound and nothing else.

Blitz objects to what Andrealphus is saying, and he's almost instantly told to shut up, having a magical gag or whatever that this placed over his mouth, not letting Blitz make his own arguments, with the courts instead letting the higher-up Goetia speak his mind without allowing Blitz to object to any of it.

Same thing happens again with Moxxie, Moxxie objects to what Andrealphus has to say, and he also pretty much instantly gets told to shut up as well, by Satan himself.

Even further unnecessary restraints on Blitz, because he's naturally objecting to what Andrealphus is saying, further showing that he doesn't really get a voice in the trial, not being allowed to speak his mind and object to what Andrealphus is saying.

A bit of corruption as well, what this shows is that deals like this can be made with witnesses to give testimony, which just opens up a whole can of worms of corruption, considering Andrealphus knows that the witness is lying here, he's basically told Striker to go against Blitz in exchange for immunity, when they both know Stella hired him.

So, while I do admit only Striker and Andrealphus were the ones that knew Striker was told to commit perjury, it still proves the system is inherently exploitable for the people of higher-class, screwing over the people at the bottom in most cases. The court system is rigged for the upper-class. Hell, everything I've mentioned so far shows that the system is rigged against the lower-class, and I'm getting back to this point later in the post.

This scene is the only example of anyone who actually speaks up in favor of Blitz, the only one, and it's incredibly short-lived as Mammon very quickly interrupts the two to make a classist statement.

Mammon instantly proceeds to interrupt them by saying they 'enjoy slumming it with the lower class plebs.', and calls Vortex a 'mutt', purely because he's a hellhound, more casual classism in the court, although they both do fire back at Mammon because well, Mammon is being a cunt here.

Satan calls Blitz an 'Imp bastard' and instantly proceeds to ignore any possible due course that should come with court proceedings, aka, the 'hours of testimony' purely because he's hungry and wants to eat lunch. Instead being completely willing to execute an 'imp bastard' with zero due course because again, he's hungry and wants to eat his lunch. Only Bee, Asmodeus, Moxxie, Millie, Loona and I presume Vassago as well actually want the due course to happen, with literally every other demon in the room (with most of them being Goetia members) voting to prematurely execute Blitz, an 'imp bastard' as Satan puts it. (Yet another example of how the court system is rigged against imps and the lower-class)

'You should've remained in the place that is expected of a low-class imp.' is basically what this scene amounts to. 'When lesser demons try to step out of line.'

And we having people literally celebrating the execution of a few imps and a hellhound, which really gives me the vibes that they're being incredibly classist here as well.

'To remind all imp-kind why you should never challenge the people above you in the hierarchy, why you should never challenge the more powerful people to you, why you should never challenge our authority.'

This screams of authoritarian behavior (is that the right word in this context?), to attempt to scare the imp-kind into being little obedient creatures to them, to scare the imp-kind into staying in their expected place in hell's society, which is obviously very much classist.

Even if Satan is completely lying about this claim, it is still incredibly fucked up and classist that he says he created them to be obedient, just straight up admitting that he expects and demands obedience from imps, not being afraid of using his powers to do so as well.

Outside of Satan just straight up saying he doesn't give a shit about Blitz's final words, Blitz drops a mention of the hierarchy, the hierarchy enforced by the Goetia and above, the hierarchy that forces imps and such into the place that the Goetia and above want them to be in, and that Blitz was trying to rise above that place that them all forced him into.

This alongside Satan admitting that he doesn't care about Blitz's final words, just further shows us how little Satan, and by extension, how little the court system cares about what the lower-class have to say, with that being something I've shown multiple times throughout the post already.

Stolas does lean into the inherent classism the Goetia has during the song, although he's not being classist here to be a dick, it's all an act to save Blitz from execution, but it does to add the general classist vibes of the court, and you clearly see Blitz getting quite pissed off during this part of the act as well.

And Satan quite literally just says that he's the judge, jury and executioner in the courts, leaning further into the authoritarian behavior that I mentioned earlier, because he literally says that Satan himself is the law, which is obviously quite authoritarian.

'You are demon royalty, sooooooooooo... your life has actual worth.', which quite heavily implies that Stolas' life only has actual worth because of the fact he's royalty, a prince. Which also implies that anyone below demon royalty, such as imps and hellhounds for example, their lives don't have any actual worth as Satan calls it. Plus, Blitz gets executed for the same crime Stolas took the blame for, and Stolas' punishment is lesser, only losing his powers, title and such for 100 years instead, and while you can't apply Stolas' punishment to Blitz, the fact the punishment is different for the two of them shows a clear double standard, all because Stolas' life has actual worth, while Blitz's does not to Satan.

Finally, we have the news article Blitz pulls up on his phone, "making them the first hellborn to ever survive after being sentenced to death by a deadly sin.", Blitz is a historical exception, a true one-of-a-kind here, but the fact Blitz is the first, purely because Stolas took responsibly for it still speaks volumes to the lack of care and lack of due process within the courts, and further speaks to Satan's ruthlessness and classism as well. With this further backing up my point that the system is generally rigged against lower-class demons, like imps.

In conclusion: I have shown in multiple ways how Satan, and most of the people within the courtroom contain very classist views, making the court system extremely classist as a result, and I also believe I've shown pretty well that the court system is generally rigged against against lower-class demons, and generally rigged in favor of higher-class demons, like demon royalty for example, with me showing exactly how Andrealphus' and Striker's deal inherently makes the court systems exploitable and corrupt, again, generally in favor of the higher-class demons.

Yikes, even Phoenix Wright couldn't save this kangaroo court, and that's saying something if you've fully played through Spirit of Justice.

[iz-star]

About Zayne's nightmares...

The most unrealistic thing about Zayne is that he's a functional working adult that seemingly has put his life together at 27 not because he's young or a prodigy but because he's said to have nightmares since he was 12?? Like... I feel like this theme might be a bit overlooked but just think about it deeply, having constant nightmares fucks your mind like really REALLY bad, I can genuinely say this by experience and also as someone who has had trouble to have a healthy sleeping schedule since I was at highschool (like, for example, right now, I should be sleeping instead of writing this...).

There was a time I would have nightmares almost everytime I went to sleep during a really hard time in my life. Of course, the topic about those nightmares was almost always the same, not like the nightmares repeated themselves but they always revolved about the same things that I was actually working in therapy at the moment. Back then I was jobless and medicated most part of the time, I was pretty dysfunctional.

I suppose that's why when I listened to "Fragmented Dreams" for the first time it was the time I said "Yeah, this is my man". I love how he's always nagging MC about sleeping early because I know by experience that not sleeping properly can mess up with your mind pretty bad, and probably he knows it too. It truly is a showcase of love how he worries about her sleep like that and it also showcases how strong minded he is for enduring too much stress and remind kind constantly.

I love how healthy he is. I like to think that he's overcome all the stressful stuff he's gone thru bc of his discipline and healthy life style, but realistically it would take him some more to deal with all of that.

Yes, all of the guys have been through some very rough stuff and they all need therapy, but my point with Zayne comes with the fact that not having a good sleeping schedule and on top of that having constant nightmares can mess up with your perception of reality and induce you a bad depression or other mental health issues. Everytime I remember Zayne's main story branch when they're trapped in Zayne's dream and MC leaves him alone and he starts listening to Willian, Georgie and his Mom so he has to remind himself "It's not real, it's not real" I deeply feel that and I just want to hug him so bad :(

I think I'd like to see a card where they explore the consecuences of their past in their psyche more deeply. I can't help remembering this post which was one of the first posts you unlock with Zayne:

It was there when I just knew that even if he looked quiet, he had a lot to say but didn't know how to express.

Another thing I'd like to highlight about this is that actually I love the emotional maturity that Zayne displays about dealing with such issues like nightmares, traumatic experiences and literally being exposed to see people dying 24/7 while being someone that feels a lot yet says little. He's dealt with this the best way he can, no wonder why he came to be quite serious and inexpressive or sarcastic. Not allowing himself to express other emotions than seriousness or sarcasm was like keeping himself in check so he wouldn't spill everything he feels and considering how stressing is his job already, it just makes sense, but that didn't mean Zayne didn't feel because he feels too much and too deeply and worries sick about ppl and especially about MC.

Of course, bottling up his emotions wasn't the best way to deal with them but he never used any unhealthy coping mechanism neither, like alcohol, for example (My teetotaler King ❤️) etc. Yeah, his workaholism isn't exactly healthy but not something toxic to his mind and relationships, and I've always had a feeling that he's a big foodie and addicted to sweets to give himself that boost of serotonine he needs so bad.

That's why he compares MC with sweets, being her his favorite dessert, bc she's brought all that serotonine to his life naturally and has helped him let go little by little. When he opened to her about losing Dulcie, I had a feeling that Zayne always wanted someone to listen to him but he didn't know how to ask for it and ppl around him was too afraid to even dare to suggest it. I think even in one of his anecdotes, it is said that sometimes Dr Noah wanted to tell him something but at the end ended up saying nothing.

The fact that Zayne bottled up his emotions didn't mean that he wouldn't willingly share them, he wanted to but wasn't used to it. With MC, he's slowy started to let it go and enjoy life more, allowing himself to be sad in front of her, to express his fears (about losing her) or to express his childish tantrums and indulge in his softest side. That's why also she's not only his favorite dessert but also his best painkiller ❤️

And just to finish, I've always thought this quote by Kafka fits him so well:

"Remember, you should sleep more than other people, for I sleep less than most. And I can’t think of a better place to store my unused share of universal sleep than in your beloved eyes."

[shouyuus]

counting stars

violet; 4,988 words; hurt/comfort, fluff, slightly suggestive moments, no "y/n", wlw (duh), self-indulgent to the point of lunacy, lots of kissing, mentions of bodily harm (not self-inflicted), teeth-rotting fluff mostly, popstar!reader x vi au

summary: when vi shows up at your door, what to do but to let her in?

a/n: bc nothing bad is allowed to happen to vi in my fictional world(s). and also im literally cackling ofc the fic that ppl r the least interested in posted first is the one that i post first; i guess i just like to be contrary but also i want to spoil vi and this is the only way i know how

─── Ⅵ SHE SHOWS UP UNANNOUNCED, split lip and bloody knuckles, leaning against your doorframe on a thursday night; you answer the door in your sheer pink nightgown and fluffy slippers, a bottle of rose chilling in a bucket on the table.

“vi?”

“hey princess —” she clears her throat, her smirk going lopsided as she tries to hide a clear wince. a bead of blood seeps out the corner of her mouth as she sucks in a shaky breath, “miss me?”

your lashes flutter with worry as you step aside to let her through — there’s a distinct limp to her gait that she can’t quite hide with her usual swagger.

“what happened?” you ask, letting the door click shut, following half a step behind her as she drags herself into your penthouse flat, letting out a low whistle as she looks around.

“nice place you got here. fits though, pretty castle for a pretty princess —”

“violet…”

you reach out with delicate fingers, taking slow steps forward; she hisses out a breath, her eyes sharp and wild as a wounded lion’s, her mouth a blunt-edged slash as she swallows, gaze flickering between your fingertips and your face as if she’s unsure what you might do.

she winces as you rub a light thumb along her cheek; your finger pulls away red.

“sorry —” the word rips from her at your touch. her eyes drop, her whole body shakes. “i — i didn’t know where else to go — and i — i remembered seeing that stupid 100 questions video you did here for —”

“for the fashion magazine, yeah,” you say, your voice soft as a baby’s breath. your hand lingers, a palm against her cheek. she leans into your touch, the movement small as heartbreak, but just as heavy.

“c’mon, lets get you cleaned up.”

you let your hand trail down her arm till your fingers link, and you lead her to you expansive couch, pressing her down firmly even as she frowns at her grime-covered clothes against your pristine white sofa.

“i’d offer to pay for dry cleaning but —”

you cut her off with a sharp look.

“don’t you dare. and plus, i’ve been meaning to change up the upholstery forever.”

you grab a bottle of vodka from the top shelf and a box of cotton balls, plopping down across from her on the couch in a flurry of pink-colored satin, inching forward till you’re nearly parked in her lap.

vi’s eyebrows hike as you pop the top off the vodka bottle, a grin twitching at her lips.

you roll your eyes.

“it’s not for drinking —” you soak a few cotton balls in the vodka even as vi’s expression falls. you lean in; vi’s hands find their way to bend of your waist, settling there as you daub gingerly at the blotches of drying blood on her face.

“ouch —” vi winces dramatically as you press down on a particularly deep cut, her lips pushing up into a pout, “not even a little bit? might help dull out the pain —”

she cuts off as you swipe a thumb along her bottom lip, breath hitching as you frown slightly, making to tug away for a fresh cotton ball.

“don’t — don’t leave —” her voice comes out harsh, desperate. you still, expression softening impossibly.

“i’m not,” you say, patient. she finds her fingers digging into your hips but you only smile. “i’m not going anywhere. promise. but i do need another cotton ball.”

she worries at her bottom lip, and already, you can see the fresh blood collecting in at the corner of her mouth. you press back into her space, wiping the blood away. her entire body slants towards you, her shoulders tight, her arms flexed, as if she’s bracing for a punch or a kiss.

you nudge her nose with yours, lifting up ever so slightly to press your lips to her forehead.

the dam breaks — all the pieces falling, her head tipping forward onto your shoulder, her hands wrapping around you tight, and then tighter. you feel yourself being hauled into her lap as she buries her face in the crook of your neck, a sound caught halfway between a gasp and a sob wrenching from her throat.

“f-fuck — shit —”

there’s heat to her skin, the roughness of her bandages, fraying at the edges, the worn-in material of her pants, the damp streaks of her hair tickling your cheek. her breath is uneven as it splays out against your collarbones, and when she finally tugs away to wipe at her face with the back of her hand, looking anywhere but at you, her lashes blink away wet.

“sorry — god this must be real sexy, right? mm — fuck —” she sniffles, shaking out her hand, her other one coming up to caress your cheek. her gaze is unfocused even as she skims her fingers over your skin. “god, you’re so soft. it’s like you’re made of — of marshmallows or something —”

you catch her hand with a tiny sigh, letting your gaze flicker over the bloodied bandages before you rub a thumb along an unmarred patch of skin.

“and you can be too. if you ever wanted to learn.”

she goes quiet then, the bravado bleeding from her as you continue your quiet work of cleaning all her varied injuries, disinfecting the cuts and bandaging the bruises. for the most part, she stays quiet, offering up the bloodied parts of herself for your perusal without resistance. it’s only when you shift back or make to tug away for a second that she jerks forward, resolute in her all-consuming need to keep you close.

“there. that’s about as much as i can do right now,” you say, heaving a sigh as you brush away several strands of black-pink hair from her face, letting your thumb skim over the tattoo on her cheek.

“thanks.” her voice comes out slightly hoarse, her eyes cutting away from you for a second before flickering back.

“i’d say it’s nothing but…” you let your thumb trail down the line of her jaw, tracing over her fluttering pulse as you work your slow way down her neck, “i mean —” you let out a soft laugh, hiccupping slightly as she takes the chance to tug you even closer, pressing you to her, chest to chest, so that you have to brace both your palms against her shoulders just to keep steady. neither of you mentions the fact that her arms are shaking.

“it was a bad night,” she says. and it’s all she offers for a few minutes, but you don’t push her, content to rest against her, let her run circles into your skin with her fingers against the small of your back, her breaths evening out till she looks back up at you with a wry grin.

“let me guess,” you say, linking your fingers behind her neck, “you should see the other guy though, right?” you drop your voice in a mocking imitation; it sounds nothing like her but it manages to draw out a laugh, the sound ricocheting between the pair of you like an echo till it dissipates, leaving the air somehow slightly warmer than before.

“yeah. somethin’ like that,” she murmurs, leaning forward to nudge your nose with hers, eyes going dark.

you cup her cheeks and let her kiss you, lips on lips and gasping breaths, till her fingers are inching up the thin material of your night dress, bunching it up, her thumbs tracing the ridges of your ribs, the weight of her body pressing you back into the plush couch, far too big for the pair of you —

“v-vi — wait —” you gasp away from her, fingers tangled in her oil slick hair, her mouth trailing hot and wet down the side of your neck. she makes a grumbling sound, nipping at your collarbones before resting her chin on your sternum, her hands still grazing further and further up your nightgown.

“c’mon princess — you got to play doctor, so now lemme pay you back proper —“

“vi.” the sharpness to your voice jolts her, and a frown creases her forehead as she blinks up at you with her gunpowder eyes, her fingers now still against your skin. you puff out a breath, pushing yourself back up to cup her cheeks, squeezing them slightly between your palms.

“i don’t want you to ‘pay me back’ for anything.”

hurt and confusion chase each other in a butterfly-wing flutter of emotions across her eyes before she pulls back.

“you don’t want this?”

you fight back the urge the roll your eyes as you sigh, reaching out to tug her back, this time, it’s you crowding into her personal space, leaning in to kiss her solidly on the lips. you feel her go soft against you, her hands cupping the ridges of your ribs once more.

“of course i want this,” you murmur against her lips, “but i — i don’t want it as ‘payback’ for anything. i…” your breath catches as vi leans in to nip at your bottom lip, heat pluming up the back of your neck, cresting into your chest as you blink at her, “i want this… if you want to give it. and — and i want it because — because i want you.”

she makes a strange, pitched noise in the back of her throat as she crushes you to her, her mouth slotting over yours so desperately that your teeth clack, but when she pulls back, she’s shaking her head, resting her forehead against yours with a sigh.

“shit princess — you can’t say shit like that and not expect me to lose my fuckin’ mind — fuck —“

you let out a tinkling laugh, fingers now massaging the cords of muscle at the nape of her neck. a shiver runs through her, her lashes a sweep of ink and shadow.

“relax… i’m not going anywhere. promise,” you remind her even as she tips into you once more, a whine working from her throat into yours as her fingers dig into the supple skin of your waist, dragging you down the length of the couch till you’re pinned beneath her thighs.

she pulls away panting, your own chest a staccato rise and fall. but your eyes are steady when she finds them again and you reach up to trace her cheek.

“when’s the last time you’ve had a bath?”

the question catches her off-guard, making her jerk back slightly, a frown ticking down between her brows.

“what?”

you giggle, “a bath. like, a proper one.”

one of her eyebrows kick up, “you sayin’ i smell or something?”

you sigh, yet again fighting the urge to roll your eyes as you push yourself up onto your elbows, your pink nightgown rucked up to your thighs, your hair falling out of the messy bun you’d twisted it up into earlier that evening.

“no,” you let your voice linger on the word, pinning vi with a look, “but you do taste like the inside of a paint can so.”

her eyes narrow but she lets you wiggle out from beneath her, your fingers trailing down her arm to tug her behind you as you lead her into the master bathroom. the light clicks on and vi scoffs.

“wow.”

“pick a bubble-bath, any bubble-bath — my favorite’s the —”

“rose one?” she finishes, lifting up the nearly empty bottle of light pink bubbly water displayed on a white marble shelf full of multi-colored liquids.

you allow yourself a blush as you shrug, twisting on the taps and testing the temperature, drying off your hand before turning back towards her.

“so i know what i like. sue me.”

vi smirks in honest this time, uncapping the bottle and wafting it beneath her nose.

“mm, delicious.”

you don’t miss the licentious lilt to her voice, nor the flicker of dark, hungry light in her eyes.

you turn away, leaning across the vast bathtub to grab a white can.

“if you think that’s delicious — wait till you see the sugar scrub — oh!”

a pair of arms snakes around your middle, pulling you back against abs and a bandaged up chest. vi’s voice is hot by your ear as she noses into the side of your cheek.

“yeah? is it gonna make me taste less like the inside of a paint can?”

“mhm,” you say, letting your free hand rest naturally over both of hers, the other hand dipping into the sugar scrub to swipe a dollop of sticky white crystals onto her nose. she gasps, jerking back for just a second, going slightly cross-eyed before a mischievous expression eclipses her features and she hoists you up into her arms, holding you suspended over the slowly filling bathtub.

“don’t play this game with me, princess — there’s only one way it’ll end.”

you let out a bright peal of laughter that echoes around the soft marble walls, looping both your arms around her neck.

“try me.”

for a second, she makes as if to drop you, but she pulls you back into her chest at the last second, cradling you against her.

“alright princess, let’s see how good this bath is,” she says, her voice soft as she sets you back down on your feet. you lean up to give her a quick peck before taking the rose-scented bubble bath and pouring it into the swirling water.

by the time the tub is filled, the room is filled with a thin gauze of steam, and when you turn, you find vi standing awkwardly behind you, watching with one hand on her opposite elbow, rocking on the balls of her feet.

“in general,” you say, pushing to your feet, “people take baths with their clothes off.”

vi’s cheeks go blotchy, and her eyes skitter about the room.

“what, i’m just supposed to strip here and —”

her words cut off abruptly as you turn your back on her and tug your night gown from your body, stepping into the bubble-filled water, glancing over your shoulder.

“you coming?”

vi nearly trips out of her tight-fitting pants, tugging haphazardly at the bandages wrapped around her torso. when she finally steps into the water opposite you, she drops down with a soft splash, a loud groan rolling from her as her eyes flutter shut.

when she forces them open again, it’s to find you watching her with your round doe eyes, a sweet, knowing smile perched over your very kissable lips. she wonders at the heat in her cheeks, at the way it prickles at her skin, thinks to herself that it must be the steam, must be the hot water currently melting away at the knots that had braided themselves into her muscles the past few weeks, but she when she feels your calf nudging against her’s she can’t help the way her breath skids inside her chest.

“c’mere,” you motion, and vi blinks at you for a second before shifting till you’re face to face, her hovering uncertainly between your legs before you jerk your chin for her to turn around.

the bathtub is more than big enough to fit the both of you, and for a while, a comfortable quiet settles as she leans her back against your chest, your fingers dancing up the length of her arms, trailing warm water along her shoulders, tangling in the rapidly lightening tips of her hair.

the dark dye runs off her, pluming in the water like spilled ink. you steadily work your fingers through her tresses, smoothing out the knots, occasionally letting your nails scrape against her scalp.

“holy fuck that feels nice…”

you smile, washing as much the dye out as you can before rubbing your thumbs into her shoulders, feeling the tightness coiled there like springs. she grunts, shifting beneath your touch.

“y-you don’t have to do this y’know —” she tries to pull away, only to have you click your tongue impatiently and tug her right back.

“lemme know if i’m hurting you, okay?” is the only thing you say as you continue to massage her shoulders.

she softens, letting out a long sigh and a small chuckle.

“you’d have to try real hard to manage that, sweetcheeks.”

you puff out a tiny breath before digging your thumb into a particularly tender knot, her entire body buckling away from you.

“ow!” she twists around, eyes wide, even as you cast her a look that has her turning back again, but not before she flicks a bit of water at you, her other hand resting easy on your knee, bent next to her hip as she leans against you once more.

“this is the first thing they teach you how to do in a brothel,” you say, your voice light as you slowly work the tightness from each of vi’s muscles, applying gentle pressure, using the bubbles as lubricant.

“wait what?” she tries to turn around again, only for you to pinch lightly at one of her loosening knots, tutting.

“stay still and i’ll tell you the story.”

she stills, though her breath is still short, and the hand that had so recently been lolling against your knee is now stiff, her fingers wrapped around your limb as if to brace herself for what you’re about to say next.

“most people don’t know this, but i’m actually from the undercity — all my earliest memories are of the brothel, the girls there braiding my hair, or letting me sit on their vanities, smearing bits of lipstick on my cheeks as rouge. i think my mother must’ve been one of those girls once but… i never knew her. and it didn’t really matter anyway — i think… i was one of the lucky ones. at least i always had water and a hot bath when i wanted it.”

vi’s fingers tighten on your thigh before she lets up her grip, sighing as she presses her back more firmly against you.

“i’m sorry.”

you shrug, shifting a bit of hair from one shoulder to the other as you continue to dig your meticulous fingers into her weary muscles.

“don’t be. like i said, i was one of the lucky ones. but… i always knew that we were living a hard life. sometimes, one of the girls would vanish and… we’d never know where she went. sometimes, a guest would get a bit too rough and —” you let out a tiny laugh, “well i got pretty good at patching up cuts and bruises.”

you flatten your palms against her skin, running them along the expanse of her shoulders before pushing down her arms to squeeze at her firm biceps.

“there. how’s that feel?”

vi sits up, rolling her neck and shoulders with a loud groan.

“damn. that feels amazing but —” her expression softens as she reaches for you, running tender thumbs along the bend of your cheek.

“you — you don’t have to tell me this if you don’t want to.”

“i know.” you catch her hand in yours, fingers curling in. all around you, perfumed mist hangs light in the air, hazing out the already diffused lighting. “but i want to.”

vi smiles, nodding.

you take another breath. your interlaced fingers sink into the murky water.

“when i turned thirteen, they started teaching me the ropes — massages first —”

“thirteen,” vi’s voice is harsh in the mist-hung room, the syllables cracking as they reverberate against the slick tiles.

you lilt your head, “how old were you when you ran your first job?”

vi stares, her mouth agape, “b-but — that’s — that’s different!”

“is it?”

she sputters for a few more seconds before deflating, shaking her head, tugging her hand from your grasp to splash water into her face, running both hands over her eyes with a groan.

somehow, she could picture it perfectly, you with your sweet smile and darling eyes, running deft fingers over the shoulders and necks of the unnamed girls at babette’s as they talk you through how to press just so, how to lull someone into your lap, and later, into your bed.

“but like i said… i was one of the lucky ones. really, really lucky — because one day, while i was refilling the water and tidying up the rooms, a guest heard me singing and… he offered me a gig topside.” you let yourself sink into the slowly cooling water, your hair flowing in a soft halo around your shoulders.

vi watches you with an inexplicable expression on her face — half-sadness, half-wonder.

“and the rest, well —” you flick a bit of water towards her; she blinks it away before pulling you into her chest, “you know the rest. or, i mean, i don’t know if you watched that entire 100-questions video —”

“i did.”

vi loops her arms around you, hooking her chin over your shoulder.

and once again, the quiet settles around you both, hanging solid in the air like so much dissipating steam.

“all that to say…” you murmur, turning slightly to face her, searching her eyes with your own, “you don’t have to pretend with me. not with me. not when it’s just the two of us.”

you watch her eyes widen ever so slightly, watch as her lips part and she hesitates over the words hanging at the tip of her tongue.

“thanks,” she finally manages, “for… for telling me this.”

you smile, pulling back to reach for the white can, unscrewing the top.

“okay. sugar-scrub time.”

by the time the pair of you leave the bath, the water’s cooled to a tepid chill at best. you offer vi a fluffy towel, wrapping one around yourself as you pad from the room in search for some clean loungewear.

you return with a large t-shirt and some shorts, which vi eyes for a second before pulling on, her cheeks darkening as she sees you watching her.

“quit looking at me like that…” she huffs as you tug on a loose shirt yourself, pulling on a pair of pink, lace-trimmed panties.

“like what? like you deserve to be looked at?” you ask, voice even as you run a towel over your damp hair. vi crinkles her nose, frowning down at her dirty clothes, piled in a lump on your bathroom floor. you shrug.

“leave it. that’s a tomorrow-problem. c’mon, bed-time.”

vi sighs, ruffling at her hair with the white towel, staring at the gray streaks she leaves behind. she glances up to find you standing by the bathroom door, a hand outstretched behind you, waiting.

she licks her lips before tossing the towel over her pile of clothes and reaching out to take your hand.

your bedroom is dark, lit only by the scatter of city lights from beyond your windows. through it, the city is a pulsing maze of tiny lights and spectral towers. you pause, glancing towards the skyline with a sigh.

“it’s a beautiful view,” vi says, coming up to stand behind you, looping an arm around your waist. you lean into her touch, her warmth, turning slightly to find her eyes just as faraway.

“yeah,” you grin, reaching up to touch her cheek, “you are.”

she turns, blinking at you for a second before your words register. she groans even as you laugh, the sound fizzling through her till her skin prickles with warmth and goosepimples.

“c’mon. bed.” she says, and you grin, allowing yourself to be led to your own bed, pulling back the silken covers, slipping beneath and watching as vi inches in next to you, pillowing her cheek on her arm. you angle your body towards hers, letting out a long, steadying breath.

she mirrors you — one breath, then another, then another.

“thanks, princess,” she says, after a few long moments.

you shuffle forward beneath the blankets, reaching out to wrap an arm around her waist. she closes her eyes, bending her head till you’re nose to nose.

“for what?”

vi lets out a puffed laugh, her lashes fluttering open again.

“for… letting me in.”

you press you lips, your eyes searching her’s. and here, in the dim moon-lit night, her eyes shone like twin stars, bright as firelights. you inch just a bit closer, letting your foreheads press as she shifts an arm to slip around your waist as well.

you hook your ankle over hers, shimmying till you’re hip to hip, your bodies arched into each other, bend for bend. she bites down on her lip, if only to stop it from quivering. you graze your hand up her arm to rest on her cheek.

“you know you’re always welcome here.”

vi laughs, the sound strangely watery as she blinks away the hot prickle biting up the back of her throat. it’s been so long since she’s had anywhere to come back to. and here you are, offering it up to her on a gold-gilded platter.

“yeah?” she says, even though her voice shakes and she has to swallow hard over the lump in her throat as she coaxes your chin up, angling your lips towards hers, “careful… i might actually take you up on that.”

“whatever’s mine is —” your breath hitches high as vi tugs you into her, crushing your lips to hers, a thick groan working it’s way through her chest. you taste salt on your tongue, even as she trails her mouth along your jawline to suck a dark, blossoming hickey into the side of your throat.

“— yours.” you finish, spearing your fingers through her hair to pull her back, your eyes soft in the gathering darkness. vi lets out a tiny, pitched whine as she buries her face in your chest, her body curling in on itself. you rock her against you, letting her grapple her fingers into your nightshirt, clutching you to her even as you sooth your palms over her head and neck, shushing her gently.

“fuck, princess…” she says, her voice slightly muffled, “you’re tryna spoil me rotten, huh.”

you smile, letting her pull back just far enough to catch a glimpse of your face.

“well, someone’s gotta do it.”

vi chuckles, the sound rumbling from her chest to yours.

“yeah well… i’m glad you’re the one angling for the job, sweets.”

you hum, letting your eyes fall shut as vi’s grip on you loosens, and the pair of you sink into the liquid warmth of each others bodies.

vi shifts, tucking you deeper into her arms as you content yourself with sighing into her skin, and it’s an almost automatic spin-click of both your bodies, your limbs settling into and against each other, your torsos turning to just the right spot, just the right angles to fit against one another.

you settle, and feel the world settle around you — time itself seems to breathe and slacken, the evening-shaped seconds and minutes ticking each into its own place, like the teeth on a set of cogs, catching one rung into another, spinning one after the other till everything starts to hum into place.

sleep slips its gossamer gauze over your eyes and vi shifts, her lips ghosting your forehead.

“whatever gods up there that put you in my life…” she whispers, her voice tight, you make a soft noise, like a question, or perhaps a confirmation, leaning up to level your faces once more. your eyes open and vi finds her own reflection staring back at her, the shape somehow softened by your gaze, and she wonders, not for the first time, what you see in her, what you’ve always seen in her, that makes you so…

“there’s already a shrine set up for them in the living room,” you murmur, and for a second, vi stares, her own mind quiet for the first time in a long while. you smile sleepily at her confusion, nuzzling her nose with yours, “what, you didn’t know? i’d been thanking them for you since the first day we met.”

vi makes a sound like a hiccup, shaking her head as warmth bubbles through her, a champagne-colored shake-fizzle-pop of emotions welling up behind her eyes, making her head spin.

“well shit —” she grins, tugging you ever closer, “you’re always one step ahead of me, aren’t you princess?”

you hum, carding your fingers through her hair as she settles against you once more.

“mhm,” a tired little yawn, “and maybe tomorrow morning, if you’re feeling up to it —”

“yeah?” vi’s voice is soft, is sweet, is almost reverent as she kisses the skin of your sternum, her lips lingering right beneath your collarbones.

“i could show you some of the other things i picked up at the brothel.”

vi groans, her fingers digging into your hips at the tantalizing thought.

“mm, you mean other than giving people amazing shoulder massages?”

you laugh, and outside, a large neon sign flickers off, tossing the room into a deeper, richer dark.

“yep. but for now…”

“sleep?” vi asks.

you nod, watching as her eyelids flutter shut, and you let yours do the same. your fingers find hers beneath the blankets; your palms press and she gives you a tiny squeeze. you squeeze back and smile.

“sleep.”

[anumberofcatschilling]

[Image Description 1 of 2 from alt text: reblog by car dentist that reads, "fellas, I hope you all realize that avoidance is Also a system" /. End ID 1 of 2]

[Image Description 2 of 2: tumblr post from she-waves-at-cats that reads,

I think it needs to become common knowledge that "inability to read social cues" can show up as overcompensating.

You don't know how much misbehavior is allowed, so you become the perfect child who never tests rules.

You don't know if someone is irritated with you, so you'll be extra generous and self-effacing.

You don't know how much is expected of you at work so you'll kill yourself in a minimum wage job and not notice that nobody else is working like this.

"Hardworking and quiet" should be as much of an autism red flag as "ignores rules and doesn't know when to stop talking". Or why don't we just start using words to communicate so I can stop tracking everyone's eyebrow twitches, that would be great.

/. End ID 2 of 2]

generally speaking when it comes to mental and physical health, if you're asked "do you struggle with this" and your answer is "no, Because I Have A System," then your answer is actually yes

[quillandtea]

Tonight’s thought

Let’s talk about Nicola Coughlan, Jake Dunn, Luke Newton, and this whole messy situation. Because, honestly, I’m baffled, frustrated, and trying to make sense of what’s real versus what people want to be real.

First, let’s address the Lukola fans (myself included): there’s this belief among some fans that Nicola and Luke are secretly in a relationship. The proof? “Crumbs.” Literally crumbs. What are crumbs, you ask? They’re the little moments people cling to: behind-the-scenes clips, interviews, photos where they’re smiling at each other, or moments where their characters (Colin and Penelope) are obviously acting and showing their chemistry. And yes, their chemistry on Bridgerton is undeniable—it’s what makes Polin work. But let’s be real: they’re actors. Their job is to sell their attraction so people will watch the show. That’s the point of their work.

Outside of playing their characters, WT (walking and talking outside of work or being seen interacting) is also thrown in as “evidence,” but even then… they’re colleagues! Of course, they’re going to have some level of friendliness. So where’s the solid proof? Why is this idea of them being secretly together so persistent? Why do we cling to the crumbs but never acknowledge the lack of an actual loaf?

Now let’s flip the narrative to what everyone is actually talking about: Nicola and Jake Dunn (JD). There’s been so much speculation and, honestly, the evidence there is glaring. Pictures of them in Malta, NYC, concerts, dinners with friends—and not just casual group shots. There’s that one where they’re holding hands outside a restaurant, and you can’t convince me they were expecting paparazzi there. And her phone screensaver? Him. She even just posted a photo to her 6.5 million Instagram followers with him casually in the background. Are we really going to pretend she didn’t know what she was doing there? Isn’t that confirmation at this point?

Here’s where I’m stuck: if Nicola wants to keep her life private (which is absolutely her right), why is she feeding the narrative of being in a relationship with JD? She hasn’t done anything to deny it, and her actions seem to support it more and more. Posting a picture with him in the background, allowing herself to be seen holding hands with him in public, attending multiple events together—these aren’t the actions of someone trying to shut down rumors. If anything, it feels like she’s subtly confirming the relationship without outright saying the words. Why is she adding fuel to the fire if she doesn’t want people talking about it?

And let’s be honest, if she were doing all of this with Luke—public outings, dinners, intimate moments, social media posts—the fandom would absolutely lose its mind declaring them a couple. So why is the narrative different because it’s JD? Why is this relationship so downplayed by some fans when she’s doing all but holding up a neon sign that says, “Yes, I’m with him”?

Here’s where I’m torn. Do I want her to be with Luke? Absolutely. They’re adorable together, their chemistry is off the charts, and yes, it would be a fan dream come true. But… if she’s with JD, it’s honestly upsetting. Let’s address the elephant in the room: he’s 13 years younger. Thirteen. That’s not a small age gap, especially when she’s closer to 40 and he’s just barely into adulthood. It’s hard not to feel frustrated about it. The power dynamics, the life experience gap—it just doesn’t sit right with me.

And what if she comes out she’s actually with JD and confirms a long-term relationship? What excuse would fans have then? How would Lukola survive off these crumbs if the whole loaf is clearly JD? Would people still deny it or cling to some “oh, they’re just friends” narrative?

This whole situation is just confusing. I like Nicola and want her to be happy, but the mixed signals are maddening. If she’s with JD, I can’t help but feel disappointed for personal reasons (again, that age gap). If she’s not, why does it look so much like she is? Why is there so much effort in keeping it vague? And why does Lukola live off crumbs when there’s clearly no solid proof?

Maybe I should just leave and block anything related to Nicola and stick to reading Polin fanfiction. At least there, we know how the story ends. This is what happens when you ship real people—it’s exhausting, messy, and makes you question why you cared in the first place.

[beware-of-pity]

You believe me like a god

(I destroy you like i am)

Your family was dead; everyone had been killed. The war had been fought, many had died, and the victor had ascended the throne in the name of Rhaenyra Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Everyone was dead…..except you, your mother and your little niece, Jaehaera.

Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

TW: Self-hatred/Implied Self Harm. Complicated family relations. The reader is a Targtower.

A/N: This is a blend of both the show and the book, so if most characterisations (mostly the greens) don't add up to you, it's because of that. (since the show has been....something, as of late). Also, Silverwing is now your dragon, for story's sake.

Cross posted on Ao3 : Chapter 1: I fell in love with a war (nobody told me it ended)

Chapter 1: I fell in love with a war (nobody told me it ended)

Your family was dead; everyone had been killed. 

The war had been fought, many had died, and the victor had ascended the throne in the name of Rhaenyra Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. 

Everyone was dead…..except you, your mother and your little niece, Jaehaera.

After the Blacks captured the capital and killed your brother Aegon and the rest of your family, your sister ruled the Seven Kingdoms unchallenged. Prince Jacaerys, her son and your nephew, was named the prince of Dragonstone in front of the whole of the realm. Her other sons were given high places of honour at her court, her family was praised and became the subject of songs and tales through the realm, while you and your remaining family became royal afterthoughts. 

Rhaenyra had been unsure of what to do with you when she had taken hold of the capital. At the time, you had the comfort of your older sister Helaena, who you comforted and held most of the time, especially after she had fallen into the grief of madness at the death of her eldest son. She had allowed you relative freedom, more than your mother was allowed, as she had been confined and chained to the dungeons of the keep, gaining her the name ‘The Queen in Chains’. In her ways, you suppose, she had tried to get close to you in an effort to reconcile the break the war had caused to your family, and despite how you had never seen her in the same way your mother had all her life, you remained unresponsive to her approaches. The wounds were too deep, and you weren’t sure you could forgive what had taken place the night Blood and Cheese stormed the castle, even with the knowledge that she had not been the one to orchestrate the siege but rather your uncle Daemon, in the name of revenge for the death of your nephew Lucerys. 

But when Helaena had thrown herself off the highest window of the keep, losing her life after getting impaled by the spikes surrounding it, Rhaenyra had given up hope for reconciliation.  Helaena was the closest family member you had, after your mother, never properly gettin' along with your brothers, except for Daeron. Safe to say, her death had broken you and left you unresponsive to each news of peril coming to your faction. 

When the news of Aemond’s death at the end of your uncle Daemon reached you, you did not shed a tear, and when Daeron died you said you had no time for them. They would be futile, tears did not reach the dead, after all. 

Amidst bloodshed and warmongering, there was but one person you allowed in the solitude your life had taken hold of; Your nephew, Jacaerys. 

It was he who had dismissed the attempts of his mother’s council of sending you away to Old Town to become a Septa or making you a lady in waiting to his step-sisters Baela and Rhaena, who they too took no comfort in the notion. You were their prisoner, yes, but no one must forget that you and Jaehaera were their family, of royal blood, and with peace now upon the realm, proving discord lingering still was not how the House of the Dragon would rebuild itself.  

Jacaerys had convinced them to keep you hostage, using you to keep in line the great houses that had fought alongside the greens - but that was a notion he used only for his allies and councillors. You were more than just a hostage for him, always having been. You were his aunt, one he cherished so. 

Since you were the same age, you had grown up together. You shared a wet nurse in infancy and were often taught your lessons by the same measter. 

You never shared the same dislike your brothers had for him and his brothers, and even so, you thought the notion of Jacaerys stealing Aegon and Aemond’s birthrights, which they and your mother believed in, to be utterly ridiculous. He couldn’t steal something that was not theirs in the first place; he got what he had from his mother, your sister, who had rights over the iron throne long before they were even born. To say you were heartbroken when your sister had taken residence on Dragonstone, taking her children with her, would be an understatement. You were more pained when the next time you saw him was the same night Aemond lost his eye. 

Aemond played the helpless victim of a deliberate attack by your nephews and cousins in public as he spouted devious words about them in private while gloating at his great accomplishment, claiming Vaghar for the greens. Words you tried to reprimand him for, which, in turn, turned his anger to you. It’s not that you didn’t condone his lost eye, but for him to be rid of guilt and his part in the ordeal always ticked you in the wrong way. His anger had always been his least strong suit, narcissism only growing from there, thinking himself invincible, which only resulted in him making rush decisions that gained him but a brief advantage, such as marching to Harrenhall and leaving King’s Landing undefended, giving the perfect opening for your sister to fly and claim as her own. 

You had been among the few asking for Aegon to send for peace. The damage was done, the throne was usurped, though everyone refused to call it so, and you couldn’t do anything about that. When Helaena suggested peace terms, she did so with your support as well as that of your mother and grandmaster Orwyle.

 But Aemond had to go and ruin everything. 

You thought of escaping then, wanting to bring along Helaena and her little ones, flying on Silverwing and Dreamfyre to Dragonstone, bending the knee and seeking protection before Rhaenyra’s wrath befell your family. But how could you? Helaena and you have been separated from Rhaenyra since you two were young, occasionally seeing her when her family visited King’s Landing, you didn’t know the woman or how she would react to you showing up at her doorsteps. 

Besides, you two had been securely under Alicent's thumb for your whole lives, and the thought of your mother thinking you a traitor filled you with panic. You couldn’t betray her or make her believe you had. You and Helaena had been robbed of autonomy your entire lives, but you did try to help Rhaenyra when you two could. So, when Helaena was punished alongside Aegon for something Aemond had done, you felt all the more guilty for not having done more for your siblings. 

If before you had been worried about losing everything, now that you had nothing, you spent your days mute, not doing anything. When your mother was allowed to visit, you turned her away, not wanting to hear of her maddening and secretive plans to place you or Jaehaera on the throne. 

You were told she mostly cried, ripped her old gowns and threw the books given to her out of the windows of her room. You cared for her still, but not enough to deal with her when you too were not doing any better. 

You were not allowed outside, in case you tried an escape, unless Jacaerys or a group of guards accompanied you. You were not allowed to dine with everyone in the great hall and most of all you were deprived of Silverwing. The last you saw or rode her was before Rhaenyra had taken King’s Landing…..and how long ago was that? A year….two? You couldn’t tell….you had lost perception of time.

Jacaerys always proved courteous and kind, just as he had before the war. Even when you were stripped of your room and placed in a smaller one, your staff diminished to only a few trusted maids of his mother, and your gowns relegated to simple, black ones, he always made sure you had everything you needed, which you were grateful for. What he couldn’t give you though, was the thing that pained you the most. 

He brought you books, needles and points to pass your time, and kept you company when he was free of his duties. But it was all futile, nothing could quelch the sting of pain in your heart. 

You wandered the halls like a ghost, the black of your gowns making you blend in the darkness. Some say you were dead inside or having died the day your sister had. Nevertheless, Jacaerys’ attempts at bringing light to your life never ceased. He brought you flowers which you kept in vases in your room, but that with barely any light or air in the smallness of it all, died by the days. As so, he’d let you plant your flowers in the gardens of the Keep. Even though you barely spoke after the death of your entire family, taking care of the flowers made you happy.

You were allowed to bring Jaehaera with you, the little girl taking to you as if you were her mother, and if you were mute, she was another case altogether. Jaehaera was born tiny and slow to grow. She did not cry or smile or act as babies normally would. Her lack of emotion continued as she grew older. She is sweet but a simple girl in mind.  She loved the flowers you planted, which you encouraged for her to pick and take with her to her room.

You two were often asked to attend court, to remember others of your presence and what they meant. Jaehaera would clutch your hand as you held hers, standing as close to you as she could and more so she could hide behind the panels of your skirt. Those days were those she dreaded most; she hated being looked at, especially by so many people, but your presence beside her gave her enough strength and courage to withstand the ordeal. 

Those were also the days you had begun begging your sister to allow you for things. You would kneel, if necessary, in front of the iron throne which she set upon, asking her in front of the eyes of the court to allow you for simple things, the simple pleasures you had long forgotten the taste of, such as one more gown for you or Jaehaera, the companionship of more maids, or for you to see your dragon.

She would accept every request of yours except for the last, she never accepted the last. But you held the same stubbornness every Targaryen was born with, one she had, and saw in her children too. Your requests became more frequent, sometimes, they were frantic, at times, you cried, while at others, you just asked with the monotony of a dead woman. How low of you, some thought, a royal princess, the daughter of a King long gone, having to beg her sister on her knees. 

While it pained Rhaenyra to turn you down, the pain you felt was one she would never understand. Jacaerys would watch from the sideline all the time, knowing he couldn’t interject with his mother’s word, but none of it made it easier for him to see you so torn down by the reality which you now lived in.

So, one night, he went to his mother, suggesting the one thing he could only come up with.

“Let me take her on Vermax” he had said “if you’re worried about her flying away, with me beside her and on a dragon not of her own, she surely will have nowhere else to go”

Rhaenyra couldn’t object to her son’s words, as so, she relented, though not without a few warnings and orders on her part, which Jacaerys was more than happy to relent to. 

At last, when he came to your room the morning after, he did so with an air so light, it startled you. 

“You wouldn’t mind dressing in your riding fit, would you?” He asked, taking you by slight surprise 

“What do you mean?” You didn’t know if he was making fun of you, and if he were you thought he was doing so in a really bad taste

“I want you to come ride with me” he walked closer, taking your hand in his “Fly on Vermax with me. I know you wish to take to the skies, and Mother has agreed to my request,” he said.

Vermax was small, having grown only to the size of a middle-sized dragon. When you sat upon his saddle, which was tight for two people, such as you and Jacaerys, you only reminisced about Silverwing’s leathery one. Only having to hang around the handle, not being able to pull at the reins or command the dragon, only deepened your yearning for the many rides you had taken in the past and the freedom to do so again. 

You had thanked him, but the gratitude felt hollow when your heart ached so much, and perhaps he had seen through you too. You felt guilty for complaining about such an opportunity and the rarity you had been given. You should be grateful, but what was here to be grateful for when you were a caged bird, in a golden cage, whose wings were ripped from its body? 

You had become hot-tempered, wishing harm on others and yourself, cursing in despair, and picking up one of your mother’s most destroying traits, her nail picking. Your cuticles were often raw and bloody from you either picking at or chewing at them. You did the same to your lips, pulling at the dead skin, drawing blood, the sting making you hiss and following you for days.

You ordered for the curtains of your room not to be drawn, preferring the glow of candles and the scent of incense, even during the day. You visited the sept, the royal one in the Red Keep, not the Grand one in the city, always followed closely by your Septa and guard, lighting candles for the lost souls of your family and for those that had fought for you.

You picked at your food, often leaving it untouched; you had no fondness for meat and mead, leaving you famished and pushing down food when your stomach was begging you for substance. 

Eating yourself alive was the last thing you thought you would be doing if you were to look into your future long ago, but now even the feel of your skin made your fingers crawl over it with the intent to rip and tear apart. How hypocritical of you to send your mother away because of her descent into madness when you were carrying yourself down your own. 

But you weren’t mad, you were unhappy, and unhappy people often were also depressed, which you were.

You only wanted to be happy, to be free, to do as you pleased after years of having been conditioned to the bids of others. First, it was your mother’s, and now they were Rhaenyra’s and her family's. You dream of a time when you could live for the simple pleasure of living, not someone else’s life but your own, not the one others envisioned for you but the one you dreamt for yourself. To breathe the open air, to walk where you wished, whenever you wished so. 

Was it so wrong of you?

The gods are cruel, that’s why they’re gods, and the curse of your family being usurpers now laid all on you. You suffered from the sins which your mother perpetuated, from those her own father sowed the seeds he planted with his ambitions in the dirt laid and worked by your ancestors. You held the rage of all those women before you, your mother’s, her mother’s too, that of your sister and the people at her heel and call. 

All because of who you were. 

[rekino2114]

Training with fem!gojo

A/n:Enjoy my poor attempt at writing a fight scene because I've been seeing way too many gojo vs sukuna edits(guess who's back in his jjk phase). Also, if this does well, I might make more fighting based posts for this au cause I really liked writing this so if you have any ideas for what y/n's cursed technique might be I'd love to hear them

(This is part of my "fem!gojo with a reader stronger than her" au here's parts 1 and 2)

"Allllright everyone are you all excited for today's super special lesson?"

"Well sensei......you haven't really told us what the lesson is about"

".......Oh really?"

"Yeah, you just dragged us here without explanation. This better be good. I skipped my training for this"

"Calm down maki, I'm sure it's gonna be fun"

"It will be, yuta, I can guarantee you that....well for me at least"

".........what?"

Gojo ignored megumi and walked away, turning back to her students after a while

"For today's lesson, we have a very special guest, the strongest sorcerer of today, not to mention my boyfriend:y/n l/n!"

She moved out of the way to reveal you, who just yawned in response while she was hyping you up

"Oh is l/n-sensei going to be teaching us?"

"Nope we're going to fight"

"...........what?"

"I thought that seeing a fight between the strongest sorcerers would be a great alternative lesson. You can learn new stuff and have fun, well I'll have fun"

"I only agreed to this because I was bored, fighting weak curses all the time gets repetitive quickly"

".....that's-"

"AWESOME! I can't wait to see it"

"Very well, I knew you'd be excited"

"Wait, wouldn't a fight be useless since we know y/n is stronger?"

"To make things fair, I'm not allowed to use any of my innate techniques, and satori can't use her strongest ones like her domain or purple"

"OK get away a bit, I wouldn't want you to get caught in the blast"

Before anyone had any chance to complain, all of the students backed away as you and your girlfriend got into position

"You ready with the barrier, ijichi?"

The man with glasses nodded and proceeded to make a large barrier to defend the students.

Seeing this, gojo smiled and started to take off her clothes, leaving her in a tight black shirt (which made you blush a bit as it hugged her muscles and curves perfectly). Meanwhile, you started stretching to get ready

"Be sure to not hold back, I won't even if you're my girlfriend"

Satori smirked at your words and took off her blindfold, throwing it away

"Don't worry, we both know......I never hold back"

You both got into position and immediately ran at each other at blinding speed. She started throwing punches that you dodged. You tried to do the same but were blocked by her infinity

"Tch"

You sprinted away from her and began thinking

'Just as I thought, her infinity is as annoying as always'

You made a fist with your hand as it started glowing with (your favorite color) colored cursed energy

'Luckily, I know just how to counter it'

She teleported towards you and punched you unsuccessfully. You swung your fist at her again, but this time, it started putting strain on the invisible barrier. However, gojo teleported away before it could connect fully

"W-what? Did you see that? He was about to touch gojo-sensei!"

"Did she deactivate her technique?"

"No, the barrier was still there. It was just being weakened, was that one of y/n's techniques?"

"But he said he wasn't going to use any"

"No.....he said he wasn't going to use any that were exclusively his"

"Domain amplification Eh? Can't say I'm surprised"

'Because he's not using any innate techniques, he can focus on using domain amplification all the time,at this rate he's going to go trough infinity soon it's better to deactivate it and focus on blue for now'

"Can we get sushi if I win?"

"Hm?"

"It's been a while since we went out and I want sushi, If I win can you pay?"

"What are you talking about? I always pay anyway"

You cracked a small smile as you got into a fighting position again

"Eh, true"

You raced at her, and you started trading blows at each other like before. Only now, you could freely touch her

'She stopped using her technique?.......good'

You focused all your energy in your punches and continued aiming at satori who couldn't keep up with your strength

"It's insane! the moment he figured out she stopped using infinithe immediately amped up the cursed energy in his fists by undoing the technique, he's so fast"

"And his strength is absurd, he's definitely winning in terms of hand to hand combat"

Just as yuji said that gojo tried to land a punch on your stomach but you blocked it with both hands, thinking she had a chance she raised her other fist but you ducked causing her to lose her balance, you grabbed her by the arm and raised her in the air before making her fall and pinning her to the ground

"You know, I'd actually quite enjoy this position if we weren't fighting"

"Shut up"

"Very well"

You saw her raise her fingers and move them to the right

"Blue"

you were flinged to your right by an invisible force. You put your hands on the ground to stop your motion, but before you could even move, you saw more blue energy form right where you landed

"Ugh!"

"Cursed technique amplification blue maximum output"

You were swept up in the blue sphere of energy that formed under you and that engulfed even the ground beneath you, after playing with it for a while satori threw her blue right at the edge of the barrier, damaging you.

'She's keeping me away because she knows I'm stronger in a close ranged fight, and because I can't use my techniques, I don't have any ranged attacks. she has a big advantage......well, that just means I'll have to get closer one way or another'

You wiped a bit of blood from your face and smirked

".......thank you, this is what I wanted to see, thank you for not holding back"

You suddenly punched the ground with great force,making the rubble and dust spread everywhere, making a veil

'Is he trying to conceal his position? Did he forget about the six eyes?'

Gojo used blue to move the dust and debris out of the way, and to everyone's surprise, you weren't there

"W-what? where did he go?"

'Wait I figured it out! Before, when I used blue to move the rubble away, he got moved too. He used my own technique to move out of my six eyes range........that means'

"Look!"

A mere second before yuta yelled, satori turned her head, but it was already too late as she saw you standing behind her with a fist full of cursed energy.

The honored one tried to activate her infinity to stop the punch, but that was futile as you immediately started using domain amplification when she did. You landed the most powerful punch you had thrown in a while on gojo's back, causing her to spit blood

"That punch.......even I can tell how strong it was"

"It probably would have killed a grade 2 curse, at least. and it wasn't even a black flash"

"Wait, it's still not over"

"Eh?"

The students looked in shock as you didn't even let the special grade sorcerer fly away from the punch because immediately after it connected, you grabbed her by the hair threw her to the ground punching her in the stomach when she landed.

"THIS IS THEIR TRAINING? HE LOOKS LIKE HE'S TRYING TO KILL HER!"

You stood over her body as you looked at her bloody face, mentally apologizing even knowing she definitely wouldn't mind

"We can finish this if you-"

"This is why I love you"

"Eh?"

"Every time I fight you, I feel this sensation....I have only felt with toji, you....you make me feel so understood.......so ecstatic!.....I'm so glad I find you"

You saw her smiling at you. It warmed your heart, and a small smile crept up your face

"You didn't figure it out, did you?"

You suddenly got worried as she kept talking

"Immediately after your first punch, I deactivated infinity so I could focus on expanding blue and red's outputs"

She raised her arm and did a finger gun gesture with it, aiming it at you

"And I haven't used red yet"

You tried running but a red light started to glow from her finger and engulf your vision

"Cursed technique reversal red maximum output"

Gojo fired off an incredibly large red, which hit you directly in the face and sent you flying away, but before you could hit anything solid, gojo teleported behind you and kicked you making you fall to the ground painfully

You stood breathing heavily for a moment, blood dripping from your face before you smiled back at her once again

"Hey, can we allow RCT since the fight is truly getting started?"

The moment you said that you saw gojo heal from the wounds you gave her which prompted you to do the same

"I don't see why not"

"Good........then can we also throw all the rules out of the window since it's getting serious"

Gojo's smile got even wider as she knew what you meant. She giggled a bit before holding her hand up

"I thought you'd never ask"

Everyone who was watching gasped as satori did the hand sign they were so familiar with. you held your hand(s) too in another gesture that everyone could deduce the use for

"Domain expansion: infi-/domain expansion:(doma-"

As you were about to expand your domains, you both saw the barrier being lifted as you grunted in confusion, gojo turned towards ijichi and saw that Yaga was now with him

"Hey what's this? We were just about to get to the good par-"

"What's this!? How about you look at what you did!"

You both turned to see the area of the courtyard you were fighting in completely destroyed

"You decide to have a fight with y/n without asking me in our courtyard!?"

"Well, it wasn't for nothing, you know? My students have learned a lot from watching us"

Gojo looked at them with an hopeful look that they didn't reciprocate as all of them shook their heads simultaneously

".............."

".............."

"S-sorry sensei I was also going to say, wasn't me watching this fight a bit risky since sukuna is inside me and could learn all of your techniques and counters by watching the fight?.......hehe....."

"..............."

".............."

You and your girlfriend seemingly ignored everything everyone said and started walking away unconcerned with your hands behind your head

"So which sushi restaurant you wanna go to?"

"Does that even count? We didn't finish the fight"

"Eh, who cares"

".......you were going to buy me sushi no matter what happened right?"

"Awwww, you know me so well"

She gave you a kiss on the cheek, and you blushed while the principal continued to yell at you two

"HEY WAIT, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?"

In response, gojo simply held your hand and waved at everyone there before teleporting both of you out of there

"..........are they serious?"

"How are those two the strongest?"

".......wait gojo forgot her clothes and blindfold........who wants to give them back to her?"

Everyone present sighed, knowing how much of a bother it was to deal with you and satori

[crumblingsugarcookie]

The wild thing is that Azula is most similar to Sozin! Both of them were constantly compared to their sibling, with them being the stronger bender but not good enough to be a decent firelord (although Azula's weakness was her belief that domination was the only way to rule).

At the same time, because they were the stronger bender, they were favored by their father and pushed to be "perfect". Being perfect meant being ruthless.

That ruthlessness extended to their loved ones. We have them both caring about their friend(s), yet being willing to abandon them for their vision of the future. Especially once they realize that their friends were capable of stopping them. The love and care did not disappear. But there was no room for disappointment The only difference is that Azula didn't leave Mai and Ty Lee to die (or try to kill them).

I think is where Ursa's side kicks in, which means Roku. Azula is strong in her beliefs and her ideas of what the world needs, which pushes her to be firm and force people to submit to her. Roku could've killed Sozin, but instead let him go with a warning because of their relationship. Azula could've killed Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee for their betrayal. But chose not to.

Azula would run around saying she was going to become an only child, but now it sounds more like when Arthur told D. W. that she would "be a lonely child" once he sold her. She would never kill him. But she would capture and take him in if it meant sticking to her beliefs and dreams for the world.

Even when she hit Zuko with lightning, she knew he wouldn't die. Although she was definitely going to maim Katara. PLUS, how she treats the gang is something to be considered. Like, my girl definitely could've killed them.

She was definitely focused more on capturing them. If Azula was like Azulon or Ozai, then Zuko, Mai, Ty Lee, and the gang would've been dead 10x over. It's so interesting. Because everyone kept seeing Roku in Zuko and kept pushing the idea of getting to choose your bloodline.

But Azula was written off because she showed the more ruthless and firm sides of both Sozin and Roku. It's clear that Roku's traits shine through. No one cared enough to look because she was Ozai's favorite. Like, fuck Iroh lowkey. Imagine being a war criminal, who was favored by his bloodthirsty and callous father because of Iroh's bloodthirsty nature. And then looking at young girl, who is essentially just like you, and writing her off as evil.

All in all, I don't think Azula is like Ozai or Ursa at all. She's not bloodthirsty or ruthless enough, has principles, and cares about others and how they view her (why she was struggling on Ember Island). Unlike Ozai, she doesn't believe herself to deserve the best because it's her right. She believes she deserves the best because she works to be the best.

She's not soft or sly enough, selfish, or jaded. Unlike Ursa, she's rough and approaches dislikes and confrontation head on. Azula speaks and takes action, rather than being resigned to her "fate". Unlike Ursa, Azula can live with tough decisions and the terrible things she does. Azula doesn't hide behind her hard life. She knows she's doing fucked up shit and stands 10 toes down because those are her PRINCIPLES.

Ruthless. Caring. Overly conscious of her position and who she is as a person. In many ways, Azula is the perfect combination of Sozin and Roku. Although Sozin and Roku ended as enemies, they were friends because they were similar. Their visions for the world were the only thing that drove them apart.

Imagine what Azula could have been if she was given a fraction of the empathy Zuko received (from other characters). I could see her being a great addition to Zuko's administration.

people keeping arguing about if azula is more similar to ozai or ursa but I don’t think we’re considering the potential of azula being most similar to azulon

[ktlurksforsomereason]

A few new thoughts + theories about obxanon and Rudy's departure

I keep seeing the same angry, recycled theories on obxtwitter without a lot of critical thought, which like fine, people are mad, I get it. But I've been really trying to take my emotions out of the situation and just consider how this could realistically have happened, and I have a few theories that I want to put out there.

I think #obxanon is Lilah Pate, OR someone very very close to Lilah or the Pates. Why do I think this? For one, #obxanon mentions Lilah far too much. Like I'm sorry, she's just not that important lol. She's a nepotism baby riding on daddy's coattails, and she was not a major player in any of the bts drama until #obxanon mentioned her specifically in their first (now deleted) post. #Obxanon also seems to know a lot about the personal relationships between cast members, far more than a crew member or a producer might know (specifically in the way they describe Rudy and Madison's history/feelings towards each other). This tells me #obxanon is someone who personally spent time with the cast, especially in the s1 era. Finally, in a previous post, I've talked about how #obxanon is very bias against Rudy and for the Pates. I believe SOME of the facts they present (a lot of it is bullshit and opinions), but I think whoever is behind that account has personal anger towards Rudy and Elaine, especially Elaine. #Obxanon mentioned personal conflict between Elaine, the Pates, and LILAH. Why is that even important? Because Lilah thinks she's important, and Lilah is #obxanon.

2. In saying this, I think #obxanon's first post in August leaking JJ's death was an intentional move by the Pates (and maybe Netflix) to sus out how audiences would feel about JJ dying. I just can't believe that Netflix/HR wouldn't be cracking down on every single person who could know this information if they weren't already allowing it to be leaked. Like the first post? Huge leak of insider info. But ok, JJ death theory was gently leaked during Morocco filming so maybe not a drastic break of HR policy. But the second post after s4 part 2 dropped? And continuing to post answers to fan questions up until very recently? There's just no way. Someone would be getting sued. A crew member would be out of the job. The Pates would be putting a stop to it. Unless it was intentional. Unless it was Lilah. Who wanted to

a. gently prepare audiences for JJ's death,

b. get a feel for how angry people would be, so they could edit/prepare to launch their bullshit PR "he was always gonna die" statement,

c. know whether they should renew the show for 1 or 2 more seasons, depending on how much viewership would be lost,

d. maybe even try to convince/guilt-trip Rudy into changing his mind based off of fan response? And if that last ditch effort didn't work,

e. proactively shift the blame onto Rudy to redirect fan outrage, meaning the writers/showrunners could take slightly less heat.

The show getting renewed for a 5th and final season BEFORE part 2 dropped and all hell broke loose? This tells me that they had a solid idea of how bad it might be and opted out of the original 6 season plan. They probably didn't know it would be THIS bad lol, but clearly the writers have their heads up their own asses and don't know how shit they actually are, so they underestimated big time.

And before people start saying this is a conspiracy and couldn't be PR, I really wouldn't underestimate how involved marketing teams can be, especially for a high budget #1 show on Netflix. The Pates mention all the time how they read and monitor fan feedback. Like, if the obx twitter account can interact with fans the way they do? They can definitely be sneaky about leaking info on tumblr through an anonymous yet extremely, SUSPICIOUSLY informed source.

And finally,

3. I think the reasons for Rudy leaving (and I absolutely believe that he left) are far more complicated than simply "Elaine was jealous." I think the way he handled it was messy and shitty and immature, but I've tried to theorize WHY and I've come up with a few intersecting reasons. I want to preface this with I DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW. But I like trying to understand people's decisions, it makes them more human to me and allows me to move forward with empathy rather than anger. So here's what I think:

a. He and Madison were previously FWB. I can't pretend to know the timeline or why it ended. But it happened sometime in 2019/2020 and Elaine was unaware of this (or at least how strong the feelings involved were) until later on in her and Rudy's relationship. Elaine not knowing about their fwb arrangement is alluded to in multiple Deuxmoi blinds over the years. Just feels too consistent to not have some truth to it. I can see how finding this out could blindside Elaine, make Rudy feel ashamed and uncomfortable, and contribute to growing jealousy and tension throughout years that finally hit a breaking point. I'm not saying jealousy is acceptable, especially because portraying a believable Jiara romance was Rudy and Madison's JOB. Obviously the healthiest decision is either break up or make peace with it. But I think this could at least explain why Jiara upset Elaine so much. She felt lied to. Also if Rudy actually cheated on Teo, that would increase Elaine's insecurity even more (once a cheater always a cheater). AND put pressure on Rudy to prove that he won't cheat on Elaine, making him all compliant and weird n shit towards Madison. The whole thing is just messy.

b. Rudy did not want to do Jiara in the first place. He didn't even sign up for it when he joined the show. Their "chemistry" in s1 was a literal representation of Rudy and Madison's chemistry in real life, likely due to their fwb arrangement. It wasn't JJ and Kiara liking each other. It wasn't planned. (I hate how Kiara asking John B "Did you tell JJ" is literally always used as proof against this, but I always saw that as Kiara not wanting to admit she actually did like John B and wanted to keep shit on the down low until they figured it out. That's totally how it's written. But the obx writers suck and don't elaborate on that ever again, so it gets misinterpreted). Regardless, fans saw their obvious chemistry and SCREAMED for JJ and Kiara to get together. They also screamed for Rudy and Madison to get together, which was probably fun until it was awkward. But Rudy literally NEVER actually liked it as a plotline. In interviews for S1 and S2, he talks about how JJ is not ready for a relationship, maaaaybe endgame could be them hinting at getting together but he just didn't think it made sense with the storyline. And Cleo was getting written in as JJ's actual love interest. And Kiara had already kissed John B AND Pope. It was not the writer's original plan, and Rudy has said that he thinks the show should not be swayed by fan desires. Except the writers are spineless and lack creativity, so instead they chose to listen to the fans and pivot their entire storyline to make Jiara happen. Which Rudy was contractually obligated to then do. Unwillingly. For 4 seasons.

c. Outside of Jiara, Rudy hated the writing on obx. And who can blame him? Everyone hated the writing on obx. The plotline has been getting more and more unrealistic and ridiculous since S1. If there was no bts drama and JJ lived and the show was renewed for 3 more seasons, season 4 would STILL be hot smelly garbage. Rudy has been getting increasingly more and more vocal in interviews about how he hates bad writing, he respects good writing, he wants to participate in art that moves people, means something, makes a difference. He basically calls out the obx writers in that Larry Moss interview for being trash. It is absolutely implied. The fan service of Jiara and the deterioration of the plot and the absolute destruction of his character JJ who he loved dearly and put so much effort into? God, that would piss me off too. Total opposition to his values. We all heard Rudy talk about JJ's storyline in S1 interviews as a nod to trauma survivors and how respectfully he tried to portray that. Only to have the writers not give 2 shits about any of that. I can totally see why he stopped giving a shit too. By s3 interviews, he literally repeats "my job is to do what the writers tell me" over and over. Dude was done long before asking to leave s4.

4. The final tipping point? The hate that Elaine gets. I'm not defending the girl. I think the whole conflict/tension/jealousy thing is wild. Hard to know what's actually true, but I think it's fair to say she doesn't make the healthiest choices (her launching her bikini line while Rudy is getting dragged by the media and fans?....wow.) However, the absolute visceral HATE Elaine has been getting for literal years, unwavering, unfiltered, unending? No one deserves that. Especially not for the petty shit she supposedly did (the girl posted some ignorant shit as a 17 year old on facebook in 2013. Like come on, she's not Kelly Osbourne saying Latinos only clean toilets on literal live TV). You can't make me believe that hate like that for 4 years straight on every possible social media platform wouldn't impact your mental health. You can't tell me it wouldn't make Rudy hate the fans, and hate the show, and hate social media. He would feel guilty, like it was his fault. He would want to protect her. They would both be so powerless to stop it from happening. Like, it literally killed her photography career before it could begin because her social media platforms were just bombarded with hate. And not just hate, but embarrassing, cancel culture accusations. If that was my partner getting treated like that because of my job? I think I'd leave too.

All of this combined = creates a total shitshow that Rudy probably couldn't wait to get away from. He's talented. He's passionate about acting. He likely wants to do other projects while he's still young and fit and eager. OBX contracts stopped the actors from doing any other work that conflicted with obx scheduling (filming and press). That reeeeally limits their other opportunities.

So I really can't blame the guy for leaving. I just think the way he did it was shitty. If he had just told them he wanted to leave before S4 was written and already filming, I think things could have been a lot more amicable. But I guess money complicates everything. Dude probably made a good mil a year with obx, that's hard to leave.

Soooo yea. Just my theories and thoughts. I could be totally off, a lot of it is hypothetical. But I haven't seen a lot of these theories fleshed out as people talk about everything, so thought I would add my 2 cents.

[twstfanblog]

*~Thanks Give Me~* Pt 2

A/N: Second part ready and served! The third part will be posted tomorrow, so look forward to those vignettes XD Word Count: 5.1K Pairings: Barely seen Ruggie/Leona Warnings: Swearing

Prev/Next

The two weeks leading up to the dinner were surprisingly peaceful. Everyone took their tasks seriously, even Leona came to Ramshackle to offer more monetary support a day after the meeting.

(“Just use my card to buy food for the dinner. Seven knows that Ruggie can eat…”

“Oh don't worry, he already gave me your bank info.”

“...”)

It was endlessly entertaining to watch both Sebek and Silver struggle to not spill the beans to an excited Lilia. The retired general hadn't figured anything out as far as they could tell, but he could see their friend group were all prepping for something. It was also hilarious watching Malleus launch his godfather into the stratosphere whenever Sebek nearly told the smaller third-year about the dinner.

Rook had disappeared for nearly a week, only returning with a massive freezer chest and a profound sense of pride a few days before the dinner. Inside said chest was a plucked turkey the size of a small velociraptor. The junior was all too pleased to recount the method of how he got the bird. His eldest sister, Reine, had been eager to let him hunt down a very aggressive tom on her wildlife preserve.

Yuu was just lucky Rook had provided the magically chilled chest and that their oven knew when best to defy the laws of physics.

Cater had been texting them almost nonstop, trying to clear up what his job task of ‘gay cousin’ was even supposed to mean. Yuu would simply respond with winking emojis, much to his displeasure.

Kalim had contacted them the night after the housewarden meeting, sounding pitiful as he promised he was able to complete his task. He simply had no idea what China was. Though he wanted to do a crystal set, it would take time to get so many plates, glasses, and platters all custom carved. Not to mention the short notice.

(“Oh that's right, China isn't a place here…um…It's porcelain dishes…Chang’an?”

“Ooooooooh. Yeah I can get us a really nice Chang’an set! With lots of designs and pretty red flowers! Red is a color I can use right? Or maybe traditional blue? I wonder if I can get a full gold set-”)

Jamil had dropped off the set a few days later, stacks upon stacks of gold-rimmed dishes with center designs of a painted red flower in bloom and deeper red swirls along the edges. Just as they had requested, there were plenty of matching serving platters and pots of varying sizes. The vice warden also asked for Yuu to find something for him to do. While he wasn't tasked with a job, he felt uncomfortable coming to dinner offering nothing.

Yuu told him if he had to do something, he was welcome to help them clean and sort the metric ton of silverware they still needed to look through for the party. A long afternoon task that ended with Jamil lovingly stating she was complete shit at polishing silverware.

More people were invited, both intentionally and surprisingly. Yuu had approached Crewel, Trein, and Sam privately to ask if they'd like to attend the dinner. They of course had their tasks as everyone else did. Trein was pleasantly amused to know his simple task was ‘Grandpa’ and that Lucius was also invited. Crewel didn't respond but he also didn't throw the invite back in Yuu's face hearing his job was ‘Wine Aunt’. Sam could barely hold in his laughter at his assigned task of ‘Cool Weed-smoking Cousin’.

Jack had called them, asking if his younger siblings could attend the dinner. He had contacted his mother to send her recipe for poached pears, leading her to trap him in an hour-long story that ended on her saying the twins' babysitter had canceled at the last minute. After learning the day in question was the same as the dinner, Jack had offered to bring his younger siblings to NRC for the day if allowed.

Yuu quickly agreed, already reworking the dining room to make room for a kid's table. Along with sending a message to Falena about the dinner and how Cheka would be welcome to come. (Leona texting them only a few minutes later with a variety of foul language).

Before they knew it, the day had arrived. Sebek spent the entire day beforehand and slept over, helping in prep and making the long list of foods that Yuu knew to be holiday staples. Waking up at 6am the day of, they both walked back into the kitchen to continue cooking and verbally clawing at each other until others started to arrive.

The Heartslabyul crew all stood on the Ramshackle front porch, dressed in button-downs and a variety of semi-formal wear. Ace messed with his bow tie, raising an eyebrow while Riddle politely knocked on the Ramshackle front door, “So…why are we here dressed up and with two pies?”

Trey spoke, holding his glass container up, “This is banana pudding, not a pie.”

Deuce frowned, glaring at Ace while he lifted his own container in his hands, “And my eggs!”

“I don't even want to know why you have deviled eggs, Juice. What are we doing here?” Huffing, he raised an eyebrow at Cater primping his own semi-formal clothing, “I hate to ask it, but shouldn’t we be in class?”

“For the dinner. Just try to be on decent behavior.” Riddle looked through the side window of the door, concerned at hearing Yuu and Sebek screaming at each other as he knocked again.

“D-Dinner? What dinner? It's 10am!?”

Trey opened the door after no one answered, keeping a firm grip on his container of pudding, “Yuu? Sebek? We're here.”

The clattering and yelling stopped for a moment, the Heartlabyul crew looking confused at the uncharacteristically closed doors of the kitchen. Yuu opened the double doors, a splattered apron over their pajamas, greeting them with a big smile, “Hey guys! Thanks for coming by so early. Trey, Riddle, you guys can put your stuff in the dining room, I’ll be messing with it to make it all pretty later on.”

Deuce spoke up, holding his container up proudly, “I made deviled eggs!”

Yuu laughed, taking the Tupperware from their friend, “Thank you, Deuce. I’ll make sure to put them in a nice dish. Me and Sebek are still cooking everything else so could you guys make sure Grim hasn’t ripped apart the lounge in protest of being told to wait?”

“Of course. I know my task is to call everyone to the meal, but is there a certain time we join to eat?” Riddle questioned, handing his pie to Trey.

“Hmm. My family normally ate around two or three. But if me and Sebek keep up our pace we should be done by noon or one.”

Ace spoke up, looking around in pure bewilderment, “Tasks? You have guys had tasks?”

Yuu hummed, looking Ace up and down in barely concealed annoyance, “Ace, happy to see you’re on task.”

“I had a task!?”

Sebek’s voice called out from the kitchen, anger clear in his tone, “Stop fraternizing and continue with your own task!”

“Sebek, shut the fuck up and focus on the damn potatoes! And I swear to GOD, if you’re not using the goddamn ricer.” Yuu had started to walk back into the kitchen, brushing off Ace’s confused sputtering as she slammed the kitchen doors behind her.

“I don’t need to use the ricer!”

“You don’t need oxygen!”

Ace turned to Cater, raising an eyebrow, “What was my task!? Be confused!?”

Cater was tapping at his phone, texting Idia to remind him he had promised him he would come to the dinner, “Actually, it was you ‘weren’t invited and came anyway’.”

“...What?”

“Be happy, mine was ‘Gay Cousin’...”

“What?”

More knocks come from the front door, Riddle running over to open it. He smiled, “Oh, you made it-”

“Move, Riddle.” Ruggie shouldered his way past the housewarden, already speed-walking into the dining room.

“...” Riddle turned to the other two Savanaclaw members still on the porch, “As I was saying, welcome. The meal isn't ready yet, so we're gathering in the lounge.”

Leona sighed, eyes almost glazing over, “Of course, we gotta wait more…”

Riddle folded his arms, tilting his head, “Isn’t your job to be a couch potato?”

Leona pointed to his front, “I gotta get this thing entertained and fed…” 

Gripping onto Leona’s two braids like they were handlebars was Cheka in more formal wear than Riddle had ever seen him. The five-year-old swinging lightly but greeted him in joy, “Hi Mr. Riddle!”

“Hello, Cheka.” Riddle looked to Jack, raising an eyebrow seeing no one else with him, “Jack, were your siblings not coming?”

At that moment Riddle finally took notice of two pairs of tiny hands gripping onto each of Jack’s shoulders. Almost in sync, two coal-colored heads peek from under their brother’s hair, big amber eyes blinking at him. From what he could see, they had the same spikey hair pattern as their brother. Both with wolf ears still slightly too big for their heads, one of them having ear tips that matched with Jack’s grey hair.

Jack held up a glass container, “I brought the dessert Yuu asked for. Is there a place she wants me to put it?”

“Hmm…She said to place our dishes in the dining room, but she also wanted to place Deuce’s deviled eggs in a separate dish.”

Leona finally grabbed Cheka, silently demanding the child let go of his braids to hold him properly, “Where is Feral anyway? Aren’t they supposed to be hosting this dinner?”

Riddle looked to the closed kitchen doors, expression vaguely concerned, “Well-”

“Sebek, you better be basting that turkey the same way Silver basts your face! If that turkey is dry, I will marry your mom!”

…

One of Jack’s siblings pulls themselves up higher on his shoulder, gently tugging on Jack’s ear to whisper to him loudly, “What’s basting?”

Jack shoved the container into Riddle’s hands, speed walking down the hall and away from the kitchen of profanity, “Hey, Yuu has a TV. You guys wanna watch Lara the Explora?” Sighing in relief as the six-year-old twins cheer at the idea of watching their favorite cartoon.

Cheka looked at Leona, opening his mouth to also ask, only to have Leona quickly cut him off as he walked deeper into the house.

“Don't even ask me.”

Trey had luckily been in the dining room and dragged Ruggie out before he could touch a single one of the serving dishes. Each platter remained with their tops on and magically locked to keep warm until opened again. The second-year almost scandalized hearing he needed to wait until everything was done. Dejectedly, after a weirdly intense stare from Trey, Ruggie backed down and joined the others in the lounge. Managing to wedge himself between one of Leona’s knees and the armrest of a three-person. He really took his task of ‘Spreading it’ seriously.

Sam had arrived, passing out little candies to Grim and the children as a way to tie over their appetites. He had only popped in the kitchen for twenty seconds, delivering a block of cheese Yuu had ordered that finally came in, only to rush out like his life depended on it. His only explanation being the kitchen was filled with malicious intent…

The Octavinelle trio had arrived while Sam and Cater were discussing their semi-shared task of ‘Cousin’ and all it entailed. Floyd holding a container close to his chest and keeping a vicious glare leveled at his twin, Jade pouting and glaring right back as he made small lunges. The two feuding eels leaving Azul to bring a chilled chest of drinks up the stairs himself.

Riddle stopped Floyd from entering when he opened the door, pointedly staring at the container in his arms, “What is that? You weren't tasked to bring anything.”

Floyd's scowl turned to Riddle, stepping away from the smaller sophomore and clutching the container even closer to his chest, “Shrimpy had no right saying I can't be trusted. So I made fried chicken.”

“And Jade…?”

Scoffing, Jade walked into the house, casting one last glare over his shoulder before cracking open one of the double doors to the kitchen to peek in.

Snickering, Floyd handed his container over to Riddle to finally help Azul with the container of drinks, “I locked him out of the lounge kitchen this morning. He didn't get to even try anything since I messed all his stupid boxes up last night too.”

“You nearly destroyed my Lulu Lazerus mushroom…If I hadn't managed to get it settled in a new terrarium I would be an only child right now…”

Floyd's only response was to make a face, groaning mockingly while he rolled his eyes and let his tongue hang out.

Jade had just started to ponder the idea of ripping Floyd's tongue out of his mouth when the kitchen doors opened fully. Luckily, Yuu and Sebek weren't yelling anymore but instead speaking to each other in intense tones.

“Suck it the fuck up, Sebek. I'm fucking tired and hungry too. Stop eating all the pineapple slices, those are for the fucking ham!” Yuu smiled at Jade, pointing behind them, “Come on, you can make the mushroom gravy since I suck at cooking them.”

That single prompt had flipped Jade's mood completely. The eel now smiling and already rushing past Yuu and into the kitchen. Their smile turned to Floyd and Azul, raising an eyebrow.

“What you make, Floyd?”

“Fried chicken...” Floyd frowns, putting together just what had happened, “Hey, wait a minute-”

“Yeah, I played you both. Go hang out in the lounge, there are small children in there.”

“Oh? Cool, I love playing with guppies!”

Riddle quickly followed after Floyd rounding back to place the container in Yuu’s hands, already scolding the laughing eel as they made their way to the lounge, “Please don't throw any of the children.”

Azul tapped Yuu on the shoulder, making sure to not get any food on his pressed dress shirt, “There are…children here?”

“Is that a hint of fear I hear, Azul?”

The housewarden sputtered, waving his date-mate's teasing expression away, “I'm not afraid of children. I just didn't bring more child-friendly beverages…”

Yuu opened the chilled chest, frowning as they took stock of the various bottles Azul had brought, “Zulie, I said booze and non-booze…”

“And I have! Must I remind you that the dietary expectations for children here are different from your world?”

They were in all fairness. Most commercial food wasn't as processed as what Yuu was used to. Even the most ‘unhealthy’ junk food was still leagues better than what Yuu would find back in their old world. Food geared toward children had even stricter social guidelines; juices were expected to be whole fruit juice and even blended with vegetables to ensure a well-rounded diet.

Sighing, Yuu tapped their chin, “Yeah…I can fix this. Let me help you get these all set up in the dining room. I gotta call Kalim and hope he and Jamil aren't on their way yet.”

Azul raised an eyebrow, following after Yuu, “I assume we're putting them on a table or people would pour their own drinks?”

“Don't worry, I'll show you where to put everything.”

Azul was surprised to see the chandelier of the dining room was also a drinks dispenser. The bulbs were completely hollow even though they shined with light. He watched from the side as Yuu stood on the table and filled each glass bulb with the multiple drinks Azul had brought. He asked what they had requested from Kalim, seeing how his task was simply making sure they had a dining set.

Yuu remarked they were going to make a punch for the children since everyone would be concerned about the content of the nonalcoholic drinks for the kids.

“It probably won’t taste the same, but It was really good whenever my auntie felt like making it for family get-togethers. I think the kids will like it.”

Luckily, Kalim and Jamil hadn't left Scarabia when Yuu called. Kalim was all too eager to bring more items at Yuu's request; multiple whole fruit juices and a large bottle of lemon-lime soda water made with his unique magic. The Scarabia duo had even brought other gifts as they arrived at the dorm.

Yuu opened the door, smiling as Kalim held up his armful of bottles, “You're a lifesaver, Kalim.”

“It's no problem! I'm glad I could bring something other than just plates. Plus, we ran into Idia and Ortho!” Kalim turns, smiling at the small group still walking up the steps behind him.

Jamil was bringing up the rear, arms folded over his chest as he gave a glare to the back of Idia’s head. The flame-haired third-year shuffling along as he walked up the stairs as slow as he could. Ortho was floating beside him, eyes creased in his joy as he gently tugged on his brother's oversized sweater. Against his will, Idia made it up the steps and stood nearly curled in on himself. 

Yuu cooed, reaching over and pinching Idia’s cheek hard, ignoring the flash of red his hair gave, “Look at you! All dressed up like you're fit for the public!”

“And you aren't for some reason. Aren't you hosting?” Jamil raised an eyebrow, looking over his datemate's messy appearance. He grimaces, reaching out to tug at the edge of their apron, “Is this part of it?”

“Well, me and Sebek are gonna get dressed up once the food is all ready. We just gotta put some finishing touches on a few more dishes then wait for everyone else to show up.”

Ortho tilts his head, “Would you like us to take over? You and Sebek should go get dressed so we can all eat as soon as everyone arrives.”

Idia mumbled under his breath, trying to shimmy his way a bit further from the door, “I'd…really rather not be in a hot kitchen…”

Sighing, Yuu stepped to the side to let the group enter the house, “I don’t want you guys to have to take over cooking for us. You’re all dressed so nice, I’d feel bad if you got messy…”

Jamil rolled his eyes, quick hands already untying Yuu’s apron and putting it over his blazer, “I think we can manage. You and Sebek go get washed up. I'm sure you’d love to actually host instead of looking as disheveled as you are and answering the door.”

“...Fine…” Yuu called into the kitchen, telling Sebek they were released from cooking and to go shower. They were barely able to move out of the way as Sebek zoomed out of the kitchen and disappeared up the stairs, his apron only just hitting the counter as his door slammed upstairs.

“...” Yuu turned to Kalim, Jamil and Ortho already in the kitchen, “Can you mix the punch up for me? You’re gonna use all the juice and the soda water for it. Put some sliced oranges in it, it’s for the kiddies.”

Kalim nodded, bumping the kitchen door open with his hip, “Got it!”

“And don’t think I forgot about you tall, dank, and heinous.” Yuu folded their arms, glaring at the back of Idia.

Idia had been inching closer to the front door, hoping he could slip out before being noticed and run back to his room. He groaned, scowling over his shoulder at Yuu, “I’m not even hungry…”

“You’re never hungry. Just sit at the table and hold Cater’s hand or whatever the fuck you do to maintain emotional stability.”

“So long as I can have my tablet at the table…” He rubs his forearm, looking to the ground, “Did you dress Grim up?”

“Yes. He has a new bowtie that he hates so he’s all pouty and grumpy.”

“Aw…cute.”

Cater poked his head out of the lounge hearing Idia’s voice, phone poised in hand before he let out a sigh of relief seeing his boyfriend actually showed up, “OMS, Idia! You look so good, babes. Thank you for showing like you promised~.”

Idia finally let a smile crack, tugging on his collar as the tips of his hair eased into pink, “I mean…you did help me pick out what to wear-MHP!”

The other third-year had sped walked over to his boyfriend, throwing his arms around Idia’s neck before pulling him in to make out with him. The redhead moaned loudly and running his hands through nearly neon-pink flames while pressing their bodies together.

“Cater! For the love of the Design!” Yuu slapped him repeatedly on the shoulder until he finally detached from a dazed Idia, “What the fuck dude!? Don't dry hump your boyfriend in my entryway!?”

“What am I supposed to do as ‘Gay Cousin’!? My boyfriend is here, so I get to be gay and kiss him!”

Rolling her eyes, Yuu groaned and walked up the stairs to finally clean up. Leaving a stunned Idia and an angry Cater, the redhead holding his hands up as to question the higher powers.

“What do I DO!?”

Yuu and Sebek cleaned up well, Sebek feeling much better freshly showered and in the button-up he had spent an hour last night ironing. Yuu kept simple, the new designer jeans Crewel had flung at her after seeing her trying to sew in another patch on the thigh of her old jeans. A sweater Yuu had stolen from Vil’s closet, the third-year feeling something was missing from his wardrobe, but unable to figure out what was gone. 

So she could feel nothing but smug when she opened the door, smiling at the well-dressed group of the Pomfiore trio on their porch, “Eyebrows.”

Vil raised a single perfectly sculpted eyebrow, already connecting the dots on where his missing top had gone. He tapped a perfectly manicured nail against the lid of his container, “Onion.”

“I see, you not only managed to get Epel de-mudded but you finished your salad on time.”

With a smile that seemed almost mocking, Vil opened his container to show the multicolored pasta inside, “I made a pasta salad.”

Yuu looked at the dish, her smile almost frozen on her face before she took in a deep breath through her nose. She reaches out, nails raking down the sides of the ceramic bowl as they slowly pull it out of  Vil’s hands, “I should…beat you to death for your audacity. But this honestly, looks delightful and I think you actually seasoned it.”

Epel spoke up from beside Vil, giving his housewarden a judgemental look, “He had me season it.”

“Hush, Epel.”

Rook tilted his head, smiling brightly, “I hope we are not too fashionably late. It’d do no good for us to miss such festivities with our dear classmates.”

Yuu ushered them in, “Not too late. Most everyone is here, but you also aren’t the last to arrive.”

Vil smiled as he triple-checked his makeup and outfit in the gold mirror on the wall, “Perfect.”

Epel perked up, holding out his own dish, “Oh, yeah. Here’s the tenderloin you wanted me to make. I never thought pork and apples would work together. How’d you know?”

Yuu partly wanted to point out to Epel that he was potentially blessed. Any food he made with apples was almost otherworldly good, a trait they learned Epel shared with his grandma, “Something from my world. Come on, we’ll get your dishes settled on the table.”

Rook closed the door behind their group, eyes glancing over to the kitchen doors, “May, I see the efforts of my hunt? I wish to see the golden beauty that was once my quarry.”

“I don’t care if you’re hungry, no one eats yet.”

After sending the Pomfiore trio to the lounge, they almost slipped back into the kitchen to touch base with Ortho and Jamil, only to hear the door being flung open to slam against the wall. Turning around they smiled seeing the familiar black and white fur coat. Crewel was already walking through the entryway, designer shades taking over half his face with a large gold-foiled wine bottle gripped in one hand.

“Papa dog! Thank you for coming, you didn't need to bring us more wine-”

Crewel didn't stop walking, managing to brush past Yuu completely with a pat to their head, “No, this is for me, puppy. No touchy.”

“Yep, that tracks…” Yuu had nearly closed the door only to see Trein coming up the stairs too, Lucius tucked securely in his arms, “Grandpa! You made it!”

They hug briefly, Trein sighing and allowing Lucius to jump from his arms to trot into the house. He was in a different robe, vaguely familiar to his normal attire but clearly of higher quality and with a more elaborate brooch, “It feels odd to cancel classes for a ‘dinner’. And on a Thursday at that…”

“Hm…yeah. We technically have a Thanksgiving break in my world. It’s basically just an extended weekend though.”

“That makes sense. While your studies are important, maybe this little break will do you children some good. Here’s hoping that Crewel doesn’t use this as an excuse to overdrink again.”

“Oh, he came in with a bottle of wine.”

“Of course he did…”

Yuu was ready to text Lilia just to ask if he and his boys were on their way, secret be damned. Though a part of her realized she should of expected them to be the latest party of everyone. Malleus was so timeblind that he was potentially going to miss the heat death of the universe then pout about it. Silver can’t always fight against his compulsion to sleep and Lilia isn’t supposed to fucking know about the dinner anyway.

So when Yuu heard the door knocking with a refined yet urgent feeling, she flung Cheka out of her lap (Directly into Leona’s stomach) and raced toward the front door.

Swinging it open, she smiled at the nicely dressed trio before her, “There’s my bread delivery!”

Silver smiled, holding up the large wicker basket full to the brim with artisan bread rolls, “They should still be warm, but a bit longer in the oven shouldn’t burn them.”

Lilia looked between them all, taking note of Yuu’s semi-fancy attire before gasping. He pouted, glaring at each of his sons “Is this a dinner party!? I knew you boys were hiding something from me, but for it to be a meal among friends? I could have made something!”

Yuu watched as Silver and Malleus both gave an identical shudder at the same time.

Malleus places a hand on Lilia’s shoulder, letting the older fae jerk himself away, “You weren’t tasked with cooking. But, if you wish to have been involved, you were.”

Silver perks up, handing the bread to Yuu and finally stepping into the house as a group, “That’s right, father. You helped make the bread. I can’t shape dough nearly as well as you can. You helped greatly.”

“Surely the meal will be elevated from your lavish buns.”

Lilia pouted, arms now crossed. He wasn’t dull, he knew his children were simply trying to pacify his soured mood. It didn’t help they had kept such a secret from him. Then again…

Chuckling, Lilia places his hands on his hips as he let go of his annoyance, “Well, I have to admit, I am looking forward to the meal. Is it just us or will others be joining?”

Yuu smiled, sharing a kiss with Malleus, the horned fae already beaming at himself for completing his task. Looking to Lilia, Yuu nodded her head to the lounge down the hall, “You guys are actually the last group. Go wait in the lounge for a bit, me and Jamil will get the last touches of dinner done.”

While Malleus wasn’t too keen to leave, he allowed Lilia to tug him down the hall and into the lounge. The sound of Sebek shouting in joy at finally seeing his dorm family again, already talking their ears off on how much he had done to help insure the success of the meal.

Yuu leaned their head into the lounge, locking eyes with Riddle and nodding. The housewarden perked up, standing from his seat and bringing his fingers to his lips to let out a piercing whistle.

Once he had everyone’s attention, he nodded and made motions to leave the room, “It’s time for the meal. Let’s all make our way to the dining room.”

The Ramshackle dining room was possibly the most elegant room of the house, which wasn’t hard, but it counted. The dark wood-paneled walls were lit softly by the warm lights of the chandelier. The long table was decorated by deep red placemats, crystal glasses, stark white plates, and matching serving platters filled to the brim with food. Tucked to the far wall, resting under a large landscape painting, was a much smaller table with five placemats.

Yuu smiled, gesturing to the small table, “Niblings, that’s your table. Everyone else, I actually have nametags so you guys are assigned seats.” Their smile quickly fell, reaching out and gripping Ruggie by the back of his suspenders and yanked him back from the table, “Not yet.”

Ruggie groaned loudly, glaring at Yuu, “What now!? This is my dinner isn’t it!?”

“No, you wanted a Thanksgiving dinner. So we’re doing a Thanksgiving dinner, all the annoying shit involved. Now, we’re going to stand around the table, hold hands, and say a prayer.”

Ace raised an eyebrow, “What, like a cult?”

Crewel pulled a face, begrudgingly holding onto Trein’s hand, “Why are we praying?”

 Yuu grips Deuce’s hand, pointing a finger at everyone, “Don’t question me, this is just how my family always did it. Ruggie, you wanted this, you do it.”

“I-Do what?”

“The prayer, Ruggie. Say a few words about what you’re thankful for or like…praise god or whatever. Now everyone, hold each other’s hands and bow your heads until the prayer is done.”

“Ok, so this is cult behavior-”

“Bow your heads!”

Everyone bowed their heads, a few shooting Ruggie questioning glances before looking back to the floor or closing their eyes.

Ruggie stood in silence for a few seconds. Looking around the room before taking a breath and bowing his head as well, “Um…Hi? This is weird and I really don’t want to do this is public. But…Thank you…for the meals I’ve had, the meal I’m having, and the meals I’ll have…” He smiles softly, the grip he had on Leona’s hand tightening only a touch, “And for the people I share them with. Bless.”

Yuu holds their head up, staring at Ruggie in surprise, “Ruggie, holy shit, that was actually lovely.”

“Can we eat now?”

“Oh my God-Yeah.”

Everyone took a seat, Yuu further explained that whoever had a child sitting at the kids' table was allowed to make their and the child’s plate first. Ruggie being the only one who didn’t fit into that group who was allowed to pile his plate as much as he wanted before everyone else.

Prev/Next

[maybanksmusings]

THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK

SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.

WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!oc, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE ; changes are being made! see this post to learn more. to me, this part seems a little like a filler, but i want to explore veronica as a character and develop each relationship with each character as something more than a side character, not just honing in on her relationship with jj, which of course is a huge part of the story also.

part one. part two. part three.

when veronica begins to stir, the sun had long set. there was no way of knowing how long the pair had been asleep, all she knew was the lights of the chateau were off and there was a bright pink post it note stuck to jj’s head.

‘gone fishin’. jb pissed.’

pope signed off on the note, a small smiley face drawn inside the o of his name. veronica knew the pouges hadn’t actually gone fishing, that is was some sort of code jj would decipher when he came to.

in this moment, veronica was content. wrapped in the arms of the most beautiful person she’d ever seen.

what could only be described as a war was ongoing in her head. she wasn’t exactly one to believe in love at first sight, she thought this entire ‘spark’ thing was something made up by male authors to keep women reading their shitty romance books to keep them hooked, waiting for it to happen to them.

but then she met jj, and he was like a magnet. every time veronica was in his presence she was mesmerised, whenever he was gone she felt like all the colour was drained from the world.

there was only two problems.

there was a maximum of forty eight hours that they knew each other, add to that he was her brothers best friend, then add to that said brother made it crystal clear that inter-group dating was not allowed.

oh, and then the whole ‘nobody knows i’m his sister but us’ thing.

“you’re staring, baby” jj mumbled, his voice low and tired as he stirred beneath her “can’t say i blame you”

with a sarcastic scoff, veronica sits upright in the hammock, her legs laid out across the blonds lap “just admiring the drool on your face”

“aren’t you funny.”

comfortable silence follows, jj crosses his arms behind his head and blinks the sleep out of his eyes. even though she was staring off into the water, veronica could feel jj’s eyes on her.

“can i help you?” veronica quipped, a teasing lilt to her words as she face the boy in question “use your words, you’ll get there.”

unexpectedly, jj sighs and lets his head fall back “what am i doing?”

veronica knows he didn’t intent for her to hear him, but she did. she would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed, but she was even more disappointed in herself at the pang of sadness that hit her.

before she can say, or do, anything, jj is sat up a little straighter and speaking again.

“listen, you’re a really cool girl,” he pauses, shaking his head and starting again “you’re hot as shit, damn it!”

barely, veronica manages to mask her giggle with a cough.

“don’t ask me how or why, but i gotta tell you i’m super into you.” he blurts out “yeah, makes no fuckin’ sense, we barely know each other, no pouge on pouge macking, you ain’t feeling me like that-“

her body is moving before her brain can even comprehend what she’s doing, chipped nail polish framing blond hair as she held his face in her hands and pressed their lips together.

then, her brain kicks in, and veronica jumps back like she’d just been burnt.

“fuck, jay i’m so sorry. i wasn’t thinking,”

seconds pass agonisingly slow and veronica can’t help but think about just how badly she had just fucked up.

but she doesn’t get to overthink for long.

a calloused hand tangled in long, brown hair. the other gripping her waist like it was a lifeline, helping her into his lap as his tongue makes its way into her mouth.

the kiss is messy, it’s desperate. like two people drowning, taking in the other like they were air. hands cling to whatever they can, afraid if they let go it would all be over.

any reservations veronica may have had about ‘the spark’ were discarded, undermined even, this wasn’t a spark, it was fireworks.

but fireworks don’t last forever, and when the sound of john b’s rickety van can be heard drawing closer. the newfound excitement being dulled by the shadow known as a protective older brother, a protective best friend.

by the time the missing pouges pour out of the twinkie, veronica and jj are in much less compromising positions, now sitting beside each other trading menial conversation about the earlier events of the day.

“welcome back to the land of the living,” kiara teases, a yellow vape coming up to her mouth as she took a hit “you two were out cold.”

instinctively, veronica’s hand shot out, wordlessly pleading for a hit of her vape. with a groan, kie handed it over.

veronica lets her head fall back against the hard oak of the tree behind her, relishing the feeling of her first hit of nicotine in two days. she had a vape when she left home, but it died before she even made it to the outer banks and being broke meant she couldn’t even go buy a replacement.

“you could’ve woke us up, y’know” jj defended, trying his hardest to act as if nothing happened, reminding himself to stop staring.

pope scoffs, not missing the longing stares sent the brunettes direction but purposefully ignoring them “we tried, it nearly cost us our lives.”

unamused, john b walks past the rest of the group in silence. when he gets to the door of the chateau he looks over his shoulder and nods for veronica to follow.

the girl is suddenly more attentive, climbing over the human embodiment of a golden retriever and padding her way into the house behind the older of the two.

“does the name redfield mean anything to you?” john b questions, passing a beer from the fridge and getting one for himself “like, the surname.”

veronica is quiet, her finger tracing the rim of the can as she goes through every crevice of her brain in search of any name even remotely close, there’s only one.

“chris redfield.” she answers with a nod, popping the tab of the can and taking a swig “but i don’t get how he’s involved.”

“why not? who is he!?”

“a video game character.”

with a huff of annoyance john b drags a chair across the kitchen to sit beside veronica, unscrewing his compass and placing it down on the table. the name ‘redfield’ is carved into the metal.

“we went back to the boat, found a motel key, whatever.” john b shrugs off the rest of their findings, more invested in whoever this redfield person was. “then i remembered when you showed me that note, the one in the compass. then i found this, figured you would know more than i do.”

veronica gently traced the carved metal, it was definitely their fathers scrawl, she’d memorised it from the note she read over and over and over.

it couldn’t be a coincidence, her fathers note asking her to meet, the matching compasses. now this?

“if i’m going to help you, i need to know..” she trailed off, biting at the edges of her nails as she wondered how to phrase her next question “does this have anything to do with dad dying?”

“he’s not dead.” john b’s voice is louder, stern. then his face softens and he tears his gaze away from the compass and to the floor “sorry, just, i know he’s out there. and this? this is proof.”

“john b, i get it.” the younger routledge speaks slowly, trying not to tread on any toes “you’re not the only one who wants him to be alive, that needs to see him. but i don’t see how this—”

“dad found the royal merchant. four hundred million dollars in gold, and he found it. he’s trying to tell us where to find it.”

veronica sighs, fingers rubbing at her tired eyes as she once again tried to think of any connection to any redfield. when it came to family, she only knew the bare minimum, her fathers name and her mothers maiden name.

what she did know, however, was the royal merchant. as a child her father sent her maps and books on birthdays and christmases without fail, until one day they stopped.

“you’ve got books and stuff, right?” she finally asked, not wanting to get either her or john b’s hopes up. a nagging feeling was telling her their dad was alive, but she knew he wouldn’t just up and abandon his son.

the walls of her fathers study feel like they’re closing in on her, john b let her inside and left her to it. veronicas hand ghosts over the framed maps and dusty books. blueprints of ships with her fathers messy scrawl written randomly around the paper.

there’s pictures of john b littered all over the office, all different life stages, a few feature jj and veronica can’t help but smile at the photo of two little boys holding a fish between them.

on the desk there’s a picture frame, immediately veronica recognises her mother, years younger and a gentle hand placed on her tummy. in the same frame, there’s an ultrasound that veronica almost bypassed as john b, but when she looked at the date it was a long time after he was born.

it was her ultrasound.

it was her in her moms tummy, framed and proudly placed right on her fathers desk.

everything comes back at once. finding the note, and in turn the years worth of letters her mother had hidden from her. the dateline special with john b pleading for information about his father, their father. the fight with her mother, packing a bag in the middle of the night and making her way to the address stored safely inside her compass.

the tears don’t register until they hit the glass of the frame, the last few weeks of pent up anger, sadness and hurt bubbling over from the flame that single photo sparked.

her dad loved her.

for years she’d heard about her absent father, then the absent father that passed when she was a baby. the father who didn’t want the responsibility of a child and ran away once he found out.

but the letters, the compass, this picture? john routledge loved the daughter he was forbidden from seeing, from the second he knew about her he loved her.

and now he was dead.

a sudden wave of anger rushes from her head to her toes, glass shattering when she throws the dusty old frame against the wall with a scream. papers fly and maps fall from the walls as she turns her fathers office into her own personal rage room.

the racket coming from the small room shakes the chateau, so it’s no surprise when the pouges come crashing through the door.

the pouges eyes briefly flash with fear when their eyes land on the destruction caused by the newest arrival, but it’s quickly replaced by a familiar sadness when veronica crumples to the ground, screaming as loud as her lungs would allow for them to get out.

they don’t know what’s wrong, but it doesn’t matter. veronica was now considered a friend, and they gathered that’s what she needed right about now.

jj is the first to enter, drawing closer slowly as if he were being cautious “it’s okay, ronnie.” he mutters softly, dodging shattered glass as he knelt beside her “we’re here, we got you.”

kiara, john b and pope are close behind, wrapping veronica in what could only be described as a group hug until her tears subsided.

taglist!

@ren-ni @marleymarleymarleymarley @miidollaasignnn @rainingcecilias @tanyaherondale @xspideyhollandx @sluterainterlude @loverofmarsss @xoxo-ada @gigistalked @genderlessmenance

[cioud-berries]

Mutual Benefit || Chapter 5

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Summery:

Posts season 2: Spoiler warning!!

Being forced into an arranged marriage, [Name] tried her hardest with her unreceptive husband Salo. After his death, she was forced to replace his council position, trying to figure out who she was as a person. Sevika never expected to get anywhere close to the council, let alone join them. As the stigma around people from Zaun still stood, she struggled to gain the respect from her new fellow councillors. With so many differences how could the two really help one another?

Chapter Warnings:

Season 2 Spoilers, Alcohol usage

Word count: 3,749

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<- Previous Chapter || Mutual Benefit Master List || Next Chapter ->

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        Sevika caved, agreeing to thoroughly look over and edit all of the plans [Name] had mustered. She instantly regretted it as she was handed a stack with over a hundred pieces of paper and told that she needed to finish going through them in three days. 

        If there is one thing Sevika holds true to, it is that she doesn’t fall through on promises. She was tired, she felt dead, but most of all, she was pissed. Sevika marched up to [Name]’s office, ready to tell [Name] everything she thinks about her and her whole stupid game.

        The second [Name] opened the door with that warm smile of here, thanking Sevika yet again for helping, the anger turned into tiredness. Making her way over to the couch, she plopped down, all the energy leaving her body.

        It was the night before they had to make their case to the council. [Name] was more energetic than ever. She was ready to present and knew she would be able to win. The five cups of coffee also assisted in her mood. 

        Picking up the papers Sevika edited, she began to formulate their argument, telling Sevika exactly what to say. Normally, Sevika would have an issue with that, but with how little knowledge she had about talking to the council, she was going to follow [Name]’s lead. 

        They spent hours in [Name]’s office talking about nothing other than the plans and their fellow council members. Before either of them knew it, it was late into the night, almost reaching into the morning. But they didn’t stop until they were completely finished. 

        Gathering all their things up, they left together, walking down the empty streets of Piltover in silence. They came to a stop as they found themselves at the street that they would have to separate at. 

        [Name] turned to Sevika with a proud smile. “See you in the morning~” She told her, but the words came out way more sensual than intended. Before Sevika could question anything, [Name] turned around making a quick exit, embarrassed.  

        The next morning they met up again in [Name]’s office. They finalized their case, going back over anything they weren’t strong on the night before. Walking down the hallway together, they headed to the council chamber. 

        “Why did you remove your arm?” [Name] asked, noticing the significantly less amount of volume Sevika had under her cloak.

        “I knew it would intimidate the councilors.” Sevika explained. Knowing how much this meant to both the people of Zaun, and [Name], she didn’t want to take the risk. “It would be like you were holding a gun the entire presentation.” 

        “Yeah but you need your arm, don’t you?” [Name] was having a hard time not understanding why Sevika would conform that much to the council’s standards.

        Sevika didn’t respond, opening the door to the chamber with her one hand. She held it, letting [Name] walk into the crowded room. This council session was opened to the public, allowing them to hear the case and verdict. 

        Sasha’s nanny and Sasha were there as well. Sasha wanted to see her mom at work and be there to support her, but she also knew that Sevika would be there, and was excited to see her again. 

        All the councillors made their way to their seats as the crowd became quiet. Taking a deep breath, she stood up,  Sevika following alongside her. “I would like to start by thanking everyone for coming.” She looked around the room. Catching the sight of her daughter, she smiled. “I would like to propose a plan that would allow the deconstruction of the Hex Gate.”

        Many people in the crowd began whispering to one other. Sevika glared at them as [Name] waiting for the noise to die down. “HexTech died alongside the late Councillor Talis and Viktor. It is now barely usable and has been confirmed to be toxic, poisoning life in the undercity. The tower has now become a glorified, over expensive, statue to sit as a reminder of the perils that our city has been through.”

        [Name] went quiet for a moment, allowing for her words to set in with everyone. “The tower took a lot of valuable materials to build. I do not come before you expecting all of it to be thrown into a junkyard.” She looked over at Sevika for confirmation that she was ready. Sevika gave a small nod for confirmation. “We would like to use these materials to improve the lives of everyone.”

        Sevika took over, remembering what [Name] had told her to say. She went on to explain how these modifications would benefit Zaun, and in turn benefit Piltover. Using the calculations that [Name] had figured out, she drove her points further.

        [Name] took back over when discussing what exactly in Piltover could be fixed by these materials, such as the expanding the sewer system. Everything was going well. The room was silent, allowing them to talk with no interruptions. Everyone was listening attentively. 

        As [Name] finished it up, she ended with. “We open the floor to any questions.” She took a deep breath, knowing that some of these questions would be tough.

        One of the men on the council held up his hand, making it known that he had a question. [Name] looked over at him, signaling that she was ready to hear him. “I do enjoy this plan of yours. I think everyone can benefit from it. My worry is: How do you plan on paying the workers to both remove and build.”

        [Name] blinked for a few seconds, trying to come up with a response. “I was planning to use a percentage of taxes.”

        “What percentage of taxes do you plan on using?” He added onto his questioning.

        [Name] again hesitated, becoming less confident. Sevika took over for her, even though she didn’t know much about taxes yet. “It depends how quickly we want these plans to get carried out. If we have it done within the next year, it’ll be about seven percent. But if we execute these plans over the next few years, it’ll be around four.” She completely pulled that out of her ass. When she glanced over at [Name] she seemed to agree.

        “Overall, we’re creating a mass of new jobs which will always help the economy.” [Name] added on top of it. 

        The man nodded his head, seemingly done with his line of questioning. Shoola was next to ask a question. “In your plans, you only accounted for about seventy-five percent of materials. What do you plan on doing with the other twenty-five percent?”

        “I did account for the possibility of any unusable materials.” [Name] began, looking at Shoola and the other councilors. “But we could trade them with other countries to rebuild our position as a world trading port.”

        Shoola went quiet, satisfied with her answer. Things went quiet again, [Name] that they were done, but her victory was short lived as the old woman raised her hand, with a sour look on her face. “A massive hole was dug to make the HexGate. If you are to take all of the materials out, it would leave a gaping hole in the city. What will you do to fix that?” Her tone was aggressive and unwavering.

        Sevika spoke up, “We never discussed that.” She knew that this woman was not going to vote for this bill. She hated Zaun and it was clear. 

        “We have so much time before we get to the bottom. So that could be discussed at a later date.” [Name] added so the other councilors mind wouldn’t waver towards a no.

        No one else had any questions, moving onto the voting section of the meeting. The meeting took a five minute break for councilors to think over their decision. During the quick break, [Name] went over to Sasha, needing a little boost from her daughter. 

        Giving her a hug and giving a kiss on her forehead, [Name] took a deep breath, trying to shake out any anxiety. “Mommy.” Sasha whispers, not wanting people to hear her.

        [Name] looked down at her, a hand placed on her head. “What is it sweetness?” She rescinded quietly. 

        “I wanna see Miss Sevika.” Sasha clung onto her mother, almost begging.

        [Name] smiled at her daughter's admiration of her fellow councilor. “We’ll have to see darling.” 

        She groaned into his mothers clothes, wanting to run across the room and start a conversation with the woman. But she knew she would get in big trouble if she did that. 

        The councilors started making their way back to their chairs as they made their decision. [Name] made her way back as well, giving Sevika an anxious smile. The windows were closed, and then the lights on [Name] and Sevika were shown.

        Since [Name] and Sevika proposed this plan, they automatically were removed from the vote. Only three votes were needed for these plans to be approved, which sounded easier said than done. 

        Shoola was the first to raise her hand in support. A vote [Name] was expecting, but it was still a relief.

        A few seconds went by and the man across from Sevika raised his hand. The light also shone on him. 

        Only one more vote was needed. Seconds felt like minutes and everything moved in slow motion. [Name] could feel her heartbeat in her throat as she turned her head to Sevika in fear that this was the end. As she stared at Sevika she heard the noise of another light turning on.

        She turned her head to see the older man raising his hand, confirming that they had succeeded. [Name] tried her hardest to hold in her smile. The windows opened back up as the verdict was given. 

        [Name] was composed, seeming like she would have cared less about the verdict. She was trying to seem professional and regal. As everyone began to file out of the room, [Name] made her way to Sevika. Putting a hand on her upper arm, she leaned in closer to her. “Meet me in my office.” She said with a lower tone.

        Sevika slightly nodded as [Name] walked towards her office. In the room, Sasha was sat on the couch, waiting for her mother. She finally was able to show her emotions, screaming loudly in excitement.

        [Name] ran over to Sasha, picking her up and twirling her around. Sasha laughed alongside [Name] enjoying the feeling.

        “Congratulations Ma'am” The Nanny told her.

        “Thank you.” [Name] breathlessly responded, putting Sasha back down. 

        The door clicked closed, grabbing the three's attention. “We did it!” [Name] ran up to Sevika, almost jumping on her as she threw her arms around Sevika’s neck in excitement. 

        Sevika too had a smirk on her face, knowing what this would do for Zaun, but she was hesitant to wrap her arm around [Name], participating in the embrace, but she eventually did. “You did pretty good up there.” She complimented her.

        [Name] pulled away, keeping her hands on Sevika’s collar bones. Sevika’s hand sat on [Name]’s waits as she shared her excitement. “You did as well. I really couldn’t have done this without you.” 

        Sasha wanted to join in on the hug, running up to Sevika and wrapping her arms around  her. “You should have dinner with us!” The young girl exclaimed.

        “Yes!” Her mother agreed, looking back up at Sevika. “We need to celebrate. I can cook dinner and crack open some of Salo’s finest wine.”

        With [Name] so close, and Sasha clinging onto her, how could she ever say no. “What time?”

        It was a little after five, the time [Name] told Sevika to be at her place. She was just finishing up with the pasta she had made when she realized that she didn’t even know what Sevika liked. But it was too late to change what they would be eating that night.

        She’s only known this woman for about two weeks, she knew nothing about her, yet she felt so close to her. She was thankful that Sasha had the thought to invite her to dinner, so she could get to know Sevika more over a bottle of wine.

        There was a rough knock on the door. Sasha immediately jumped off the couch screaming “I got it!” Running over to the door, she opened it to reveal Sevika with her mechanical arm back in place. “Hello!” Sasha happily greeted. 

        “Hi" Sevika replied. Sasha almost lost it, being directly talked to by her icon. 

        “Come sit down.” [Name] invited her in. “I’m almost done.” 

        Sasha stepped aside, allowing Sevika to walk into the kitchen that had a four chaired table in the middle. [Name] put down her spatula, going to the liquor cabinet. Grabbing every single bottle of alcohol she could, she lined them all up on the kitchen counter to show Sevika all the options.

        “What would be your drink of choice?” [Name] asked with a smile on her face.

        Sevika read all the labels, picking up the bottle of whisky. “You better not give me one of those tiny glasses.” She told name with a smirk.

        “I wouldn’t dream of doing that to you.” [Name] teased, going to grab a regular sized glass and handing it to her. 

        Sevika poured her own drink, filling it almost all the way up. She knew that this was some of the most expensive alcohol money could buy, and she was going to enjoy it as much as she could. [Name] poured wine into the wineglass for herself.

        Sasha ran up to Sevika, looking at her arm again. “Can I pleeease touch it?” 

        With a sigh, Sevika sat down in one of the chairs and lowered her arm down so Sasha could get a better look at it. “Be careful, it’s sharp.”

        Sasha immediately grabbed it with both of her hands. “She said be careful!” [Name] quickly scolded before going back to cooking.

        “Sorry.” Sasha bashfully mumbled, not even looking at her mother. Her hand moved up to the lever that she could just barely reach. 

        Sevika was quick to grab her arm, stopping her from hitting it. “You don’t want to touch that.” Sevika told her. 

        “Why not?” Sasha questioned, “What does it do?”

        “It does bad things.” Sevika knew that she couldn’t explain what a weapon was to this child with her mother right there.

        “What kind of bad things?” Sasha was hanging onto every word Sevika spoke.

        “It hurts people.” Sevika looked up at [Name] to see if she disagreed with Sevika’s explanation.

        “Why would you want to hurt people?” Sasha began to sound sad. [Name] only chuckled at her innocent daughter.

        Sevika took her laugh as a sign that she could continue. “‘Cause people wanna hurt me.” Even though she definitely didn’t fight out of self defense most of the time, the real explanation was too complicated and gruesome for a young child.

        “Why would people want to hurt you?” Sasha sounded genuinely shocked. “You’re the best!”

        “That’s just how the world works.” Sevika shrugged. “That is why self defense is important.”

        “I wanna know how to self defense!” Sasha yelled. “Would you teach me?” 

        “I think you’re a bit too young for that darling.” Her mother chimed in.

        “No she’s not.” Sevika replied to [Name] “I learned how to fight when I was her age.”

        Sasha ran up to [Name] clinging onto her shirt. “Please mommy! I want Miss Sevika to teach me!”

        [Name] looked down at her daughter’s pleading eyes. She always found it hard to tell Sasha no when she looked like that. “Fine.” She lowered her head in defeat. “But not now because dinner is done.” 

        Sasha jumped around happily, running back up to Sevika. “What will you teach me first?”

        “How to block.” Sevika responded shortly.

        “Can you show me now?” Sasha begged.

        “No honey.” [Name] responded, bringing over everyone’s plates. “We need to eat.” 

        She placed the plates down in front of the chairs. Sasha climbed into the chair next to Sevika, wanting to be closest to her. [Name], sitting adjacent to Sevika, raised her glass. “To us!” Sevika raised her glass in agreement while Sasha followed behind with her glass of water, just wanting to copy her. 

        “This is fancy.” Sevika looked down at her plate of food that had been arranged neatly.

        “I try my hardest.” [Name] notted. She then went on to apologize. “I’m sorry if it’s not to your liking, I never asked you what you would’ve wanted to eat.”

        Sevika finished chewing her food. She was pleasantly surprised by the taste. “No, It’s good.”

        “I’m glad.” [Name] smiled in relief. 

        Dinner was more like an interrogation as Sasha kept asking Sevika question after question about the most random things. Sevika seemed to be getting more and more annoyed by the questions from the way her answers became short. But she was never unkind, always giving some sort of answer.

        While [Name] cleaned the dishes, Sevika taught Sasha the basics of self defence. She was extremely gentle when ‘punching’ Sasha as she learned how to block. When [Name] finished with the dishes she grabbed her glass of wine and made her way to the couch. 

        She watched Sevika gently guiding Sasha, not using her mechanical arm. [Name] smiled warmly at the two, happy to see Sasha enjoying herself. The more she drank, the more focused on Sevika she became. By the time she finished her third glass, she wanted to be alone with Sevika.

        “It’s time for bed Sasha.” [Name] commanded. 

        “Awwe.” Sasha whined. “Just a few more minutes?” She begged.

        “Nope, it's already an hour past your bedtime.” [Name] stood up from the couch, ready to assist her to bed. “Go on and get dressed. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

        With her head hung low, Sasha walked down the hall to her bedroom. [Name] turned to Sevika. “You can get some more.” She motioned to Sevika’s empty glass. “I’ll be back soon.”

        She walked down the hall to Sasha’s room, finding her dressed in her pajamas as she entered the room. Sasha got in her bed as [Name] went to the small bookshelf that sat next to her bed. Picking out a book, [Name] climbed in the bed with Sasha, reading to her. 

        By the time [Name] finished the book, Sasha was on the edge of sleep. Kissing her on the forehead, she wished Sasha a goodnight before turning the light off and leaving the room. She walked back to the livingroom to find Sevika sat on the couch. The bottle of whisky had been put on the coffee table as she had a newly filled glass. 

        [Name] refilled her wine and made her way over, sitting beside Sevika. They both turned to one another, knees touching. Neither of them moved away from the small amount of physical contact.

        “Thank you for being nice to her.” [Name] started, propping her arm on the top of the couch, lying her hand on it. 

        “She’s a sweet kid.” Sevika commented.

        [Name] hummed in response. “She definitely didn’t get that from her father.” [Name] looked down at her glass, slightly toying with it. “She doesn’t have many friends. So I’m glad that you can be a friend to her.” 

        Sevika only hummed, taking the last sips of her drink, going for the bottle for more. 

        “I don’t know how you’re not drunk yet.” [Name] teased, watching her come back to leaning on the couch. 

        “I have a high tolerance.” She put the cup in her mechanical hand to hold, her other hand reached out to [Name]’s knee, resting on it. With her thumb, she rubbed circles on the side of her knee. “I might be a tad drunk.” She admitted.

        “Me too.” [Name] giggled. She enjoyed the physical touch, even though it was slight. “You did really well today. I’m glad you’re a part of the council.”

        “I’m glad that Zaun will finally be getting attention from the council.” She huffed.

        [Name] nodded in agreement. “I think you’re ready for the next level of the game.” She told with a proud smirk.

        “Oh yeah?” Sevika asked. “And what would that be?”

        “Building connections outside of Piltover.” [Name] told, putting her glass down on the table.

        “How would I do that?” She asked with a cocked eyebrow. Both of their tones were low, almost a whisper, but they didn’t need to speak any louder.

        “You come home with me.” [Name] placed her hand over Sevika’s. “Make your own connections in my homeland.”

        “Meet your parents?” Sevika asked. “Are you sure you’re only doing this to help my political gain?” Sevika teased.

        “Mhm” [Name] hummed. They both knew that wasn’t all there was to this proposal. With the way Sevika hand was on [Name]’s knee, and [Name]’s hand was on top of hers; The way [Name]’s hand was on top of hers; The way they looked into each others eyes and [Name] bit her bottom lip, there was no way that [Name]’s intentions were to help Sevika with a political gain.

        They stared at one another silently, the tension building. [Name] looks down at Sevika’s lips, teeth digging into her own. She was about to move forward, but the cry of Sasha interrupted her. “Mommy I can’t sleep.”

        They [Name] quickly pulled away from Sevika another, face heating up at being caught. [Name] got off the couch and Sevika followed. “I should be heading home.” Sevika told [Name] as she walked towards her child.

        [Name] immediately swung around to Sevika. “Oh, okay.” Her tone was sad, not wanting the night to end. Sasha walked up to her mother. “Say goodbye to Miss Sevika.” 

        “Bye bye.” Sasha tiredly waved at her.

        “Go wait in my room, I’ll be there in a minute.” [Name] told Sasha. While Sasha made her way to her mother’s room, [Name] walked Sevika out, leaning on the doorway as Sevika stood out in the hall. “Get home safely.”

        “I will.” She said, holding up her mechanical arm.

        [Name] chuckled, “We’ll talk later about the trip.”

        Sevika nodded in response. “Night.” She said as she turned to walk down the hall.

        “Goodnight.” [Name] responded, closing and locking the door. She walked into her bedroom where Sasha tiredly laid in her bed, barely able to keep her eyes open. [Name] got dressed and ready for bed, climbing in beside Sasha. Holding Sasha in her arms, they both fell asleep quickly.

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