#but man it's such an important story beat that he just allows himself to become a tool for luz and she has this determined look in her eyes

[cherrymoonvol6]

not only is luz the only member in the hexquad that flapjack allowed to make use of his magic, but the one time he did was to literally have luz run into hunter’s arms to try to hug him out of his mind/body control..............

[secretmellowblog]

Another reason I dislike Les Mis adaptations that make Jean Valjean constantly openly angry/violent is because they miss that Jean Valjean is not allowed to be angry. The fact he is forbidden from expressing anger is, I argue, actually a very important part of his character in the novel!

One of the subtler political messages of the story is that some people are given freedom to express anger, while others are forced to be excessively meek and conciliatory in order to survive.

Wealthy conservatives like Monsieur Gillenormand can “fly into rages” every five minutes and have it treated as an endearing quirk. Poor characters like Fantine or Jean Valjean must be constantly polite and ingratiating to “their superiors” at all times, even in the face of mockery and violence, or else they will be subjected to punishment. If Gillenormand beats his child with a stick, it’s a silly quirk; if Fantine beats a man harassing her, she is sentenced to months in prison.

(Thenardier and Javert are interesting examples of this too. Thenardier acts superficially polite and ingratiating to his wealthy “superiors” while insulting them behind their backs. Javert, meanwhile, is completely earnest in his mindless bootlicking. But I could write an entire other post on this.)

The point is that….Jean Valjean has to be submissive and self-effacing, or he puts himself in danger. He can’t afford to be angry and make scenes, or he will be punished. The only barrier between himself and prison is his ability to be so “courteous” that no one bothers to pry into his past.

Jean Valjean is excessively polite to people, in the way that you’re excessively polite to an armed cop who pulls you over for speeding when you secretly have a few illegal grams of marijuana in the your car trunk. XD It’s politeness built on fear, is what I mean. It’s politeness built on a desperation to make a powerful person avoid looking too closely at you.

It’s politeness at gunpoint.

Jean Valjean has also spent nineteen years living in an environment where any expression of anger could be punished with severe violence. That trauma is reflected in the overly cautious reserved way he often speaks with people (even people who are kind and would never actually hurt him.)

So adaptations that have Jean Valjean boldly having shouting matches with people in public and beating cops half to death without worrying about the repercussions just make go like “???”

Because that’s part of what’s fascinating about Jean Valjean to me? On one hand, he is a genuinely kind compassionate person, who cares deeply about other people and behaves kindly out of altruism. But on the other hand, he was also “beaten into submission” by prison, and forced into adopting conciliatory bootlicking behaviors in order to survive. And it can sometimes be hard to tell when he is being kind vs. when he is being “polite” — when he is speaking and acting out of earnest compassion vs. when he is speaking and acting out of fear.

The TL;DR is that I think it’s important that even though Jean Valjean is very (justifiably) angry about the injustice that was inflicted on him, his anger is harshly policed at all times— by other people, and by himself. He has been told his anger is wrong/selfish so often that he believes it. His anger takes weirder more unhealthy forms because he has no safe outlet for it. His rage at society becomes a possessiveness towards Cosette and silent hatred of Marius, but primarily it becomes useless self-destructive constant hatred of himself. And while I might be phrasing this wrong, I think that’s what’s interesting about Jean Valjean’s relationship with anger— the way his justified fury at his own mistreatment gets warped into more and more unhealthy forms by the way he’s forced to constantly repress it.

[pendragonsclotpole]

help, i just got slapped in the face with the existence of WILL. be still my beating heart as i write an essay on this man, will of ealdor

firstly, i adore the silent and implicit trust hidden in the first joke that introduces will’s character. like merlin’s been aware his whole life that if his secret is ever found out, he will be hunted down and persecuted, but here comes will with a jab that they both inherently understand is a joke in the macabre style only true friends can lovingly master. the smile they share almost immediately gives me ned stark and robert baratheon meeting again in the courtyard of winterfell in season one of got. there’s also something so normal in their interaction that speaks of a familiarity borne from their equal status and years of friendship. i know merlin’s friends in camelot tend to skew to the non-royal/non-noble, but when you tally it up, those closest to merlin often hold some title that’s greater than merlin’s role as arthur’s servant. gwaine is a knight implied to be of noble blood; lancelot, percival, and elyan are also knighted and esteemed members of arthur’s court; gwen is the lady morgana’s maid and close companion long before she is ever queen; gaius is a physician and long time member of camelot’s court; morgana before her betrayal is literally uther’s ward. i feel like when placed among them all, merlin has a tendency to fade into the background offscreen. obviously the audience knows how important merlin is to the overall story given how much of the storyline focuses on him, and the characters regularly acknowledge merlin’s importance to them or arthur, but all of them still regard merlin as merlin the servant from camelot and few of them are privy to the plots we as the audience see firsthand. and even when they acknowledge him for his merits, his role as arthur’s close friend and confidante takes precedence. look at leon’s reaction in the later seasons when merlin is bewitched by morgana. merlin literally makes a comment about plotting to kill arthur and leon barely even blinks before quipping back, “driving you mad isn’t he?” or something along those lines. except for a few instances with even fewer characters, they never get a chance to know him as merlin the sorcerer from ealdor.

will does! and more than that, he got to know merlin as he is without arthur. we all hype up their status as magical soulmates but damn if i wasnt living for how jealous of arthur will seemed to be in this episode. call me crazy, but it makes me desperately headcanon a realistic past in ealdor for merlin, full of hardship and strife, but never without it’s moments of happiness. furthermore, will’s lone appearance in season one shines some real light on the unfairness of the fate that has been bestowed on meelin. the moment that will points out why he’s been so obstinate with arthur really strikes a deep chord. sure it could be just jealousy, but more compellingly, i choose to read it as a deep sense of care for merlin. everyone merlin has met within camelot, (or reunited with in the case of his own mother) has continually pushed him closer and closer to arthur. will presents a crucial exception. he knows exactly who merlin was before camelot, and who merlin is completely separate from arthur.

will is staunchly in merlin’s corner, and that position allows him to identify a key characteristic of merlin’s series’ long arc: his complete devotion to arthur. will even points it out himself: merlin could singlehandedly defend their home if he just used the full extent of his power. merlin doesn’t, and actively chooses not to because of his desire to stay close to arthur. it’s such a small moment, but i think it demonstrates how much of merlin’s decisions become motivated by his desire to stay close to arthur and to always put arthur first, even at a detrimental cost to himself. merlin understands and readily accepts arthur as his destiny, but this acceptance does not come about independently, instantly, or of merlin’s own volition. it does so eventually, but initially merlin sticks by arthur’s side because of the encouragement of everyone around him. “arthur needs you, merlin” or “arthur is your destiny, merlin” or “arthur is a good man, merlin. he has the potential to be a great king, he just needs the right people, merlin.” its codependent as hell.

sure, merlin originally does not tell arthur about his magic because they do not know each other and as far as merlin knows revealing his magic would lead to his death, but eventually the reasoning changes and becomes so focused on doing what’s best for arthur. merlin can’t tell arthur because then arthur would have to kill him and then who would look after arthur or ensure his fate? merlin can’t tell arthur because if arthur chooses to defy uther’s law, merlin is then forcing arthur to turn against his father and how could he look after arthur then? merlin can’t tell arthur because another betrayal from magic would ruin everything and truthfully, he wonders how would arthur react? merlin comes to fear what his magic might do to arthur and what it’s reveal might mean for his place in camelot more than the laws of camelot and their verdicts.

by this logic, merlin is a magical solar system orbiting entirely around the celestial body known as arthur pendragon. eventually merlin cared more about his relationship with arthur and what arthur thought about him than his own life. in retrospect, it’s so sad that will died so early on, because it strips merlin of a person solely in his corner. will’s death is the first in the series’ long pattern of loss that merlin endures and that eventually comes to define him because people either find out about his magic and their knowledge is directly tested against his loyalty to arthur, or he cannot allow them to know about his magic because it will unravel his relationship with arthur.

will, freya, balinor, morgana, mordred, arthur.

also the fact that will covered for merlin’s use of magic in his last moments just adds to the tragedy AND the growing pile of moments merlin could have told arthur about his magic but didnt. and also the fact that will literally died to save arthur. like tell me that just doesn’t prove my point. tell me. will never stood a chance. tell me every aspect of merlin’s life does not get consumed by arthur pendragon.

i’m all for merthur being soulmates, but god the original series is rife with the unbalanced mess of merlin being wholeheartedly aware of arthur’s great potential and destiny leading to some intense devotion and faith that yes, arthur earns and pays back in full measure but can never fully reciprocate because he just does not know anything. by the triple goddess, it can get so toxic. i wish will had lived if just for that. and like the jealousy arthur gets whenever merlin has other people. because i 100% live for possessive arthur and protective merlin dynamics.

[ladyodium]

I Could Not Prevent It

S2x7

TW: I am going to be discussing some very heavy topics. I will ask that yall respect these topics. I will be going into Domestic Violence, Lynching, Racism, R/pe, and Gore. (SPOILERS IF YOU CONTINUE TO READ!)

So, as a Black Woman this was a hard watch. From the beginning of the lynching Louis, Claudia and Madeline were bagged and dragged off into an unknown place. Louis was being beaten on the floor while Claudia was thrown in the rat box and had people on top of it so she wouldn’t get out.

I want y’all to notice how only Madeleine is not harmed, Santiago is messing with her mind, but Claudia and Louis are being physical harmed. They all had their achilles tendons cut to the bone to prevent them from walking, they weren’t allowed to speak and if they did the coven vampires would punish them. Claudia and Louis lose their names, they are now “The accused”, Madeleine is the only one whose name is said.

The bagging, dragging, the torture, the beatings, and the mock trial all hit a little too close to home. You have two Black people and a Jewish person on stage and I can’t help but think how traumatizing this must be for Madeline. Who was dragged from her shop by an angry mob, forced on her knees and had her head shaved. Then she continued to have constant harassment on her shop and person, let’s not forget she was almost graped, and no one was going to save her. 

The film that shows in the back ground as Lestat is telling his “story” is such an important detail. “A white man who just came to New Orleans and is being Hunted by a Black male.” We the viewers know that this isn’t true. Lestat pursued Louis, Lestat wanted Louis, Lestat was obsessed with Louis. But Louis can’t convey that, he’s not allowed to speak, to defend himself. Claudia, Louis and Madeline have to sit and watch a Butch of white people laugh and mock them. They have to sit and suffer for something that was really their last option. 

Diction is very important. When Santiago is questioning Lestat he uses words like “you were forced to…you were manipulated….you were sad, and lonely….you had no choice.”

Lestat is the victim in this lynching, he was the one who was hurt, not Louis, not Claudia. He was a victim of love and passion! Of loneliness! Louis was the one who pursued him, manipulated him, made him lonely.

“I..,a vampire, was being hunted…”

“Louis was saying “come to me”…

“Speaking your own unspeakable desires…in hopes that I would come to you”

“Louis was deceptively agile with words”

“He abandoned me in our town house”

Lestat is not the victim in his relationship with Louis. Is Lestat a victim and an abuser? Yes, these two things can be true at the same time, but he was not the victim for what he did to Louis.

Claudia and Louis are described to be these two black vampires who killed their loving Maker (master). The flashback to the fight that happened really messed with me, so I’m just gonna believe that Louis, Lestat and Claudia’s versions of the fights some of them were true. The portrayal of trying to make Louis this monster who rejected Lestat and was an animal himself because he consumed animal blood is telling.

Often Black people are seen as monsters, they are the aggressors even when we are victims. I want people to understand how Louis and Claudia being Black played into their vampirism. They are immortal creatures of the night, but they are still BLACK. New Orleans was notorious for its lynching and Louis was not safe from that, no Black person was. People will say Louis was a pimp and he’s manipulating Armand and Lestat, but I feel like yall fail to understand that Louis didn’t have options. A black man in 1960 New Orleans didn’t have the options to become anything greater than what white people allowed him to be. We see that when he plays the poker game, when he helps Anderson and gets called a Nigger, and when the race riots happen and they burned down his business. 

“She called me an angel…..they burned her building because of me….”

(Context: Claudia thought Louis was God’s angel coming to save her and Louis feels guilty because she was going to die just because Louis was a black man dominating the market. )

Santiago has humiliated Claudia by making her this minstrel act. To have her sing, dance, and parade around like a fool in front of a white audience. He hates that Louis doesn’t want to join them, and that Louis is fine by himself. Louis grimacing as he watches Claudia was my face throughout that episode. He then displays her private diaries to an audience, he tells them to pass it around! Mocks her accent, makes fun at her pain and sorrows. I’m pretty sure he read what happened to her with that vampire who graped her.

She’s not a victim anymore but a prop they can laugh at and mock for their own amusement. She was right when she said “this isn’t a trial, it’s a stoning.” It’s a lynching happening in real time. Notice how Madeleine is the only one allowed the option of redemption, she’s allowed to choose her fate. She chooses death with her companion, and she had my heart for that. She really was a ride or die.

Claudia’s last act is to perform her song to the masses one more time because that’s what she was, entertainment. The way Santiago picks up her yellow dress as some kind of token really made me think of how millions of white people would have picnics and bring their children to watch the burning, lynching of black people and then they would take tokens of the kill.

To conclude, this was a hard episode and Lestat was pissing me off. Also, ARMAND IN HIS LITTLE ASS PLAYPEN?! BFFR! Shout out to the actors! They really made this episode.

[koqabear]

My Life in Your Hands

Song: Cien Años, Natalia Lafourcade, Pepe Aguilar

“The life of a detective hasn’t always been so lonely; you knew how to trust, once. But after being shown the dangers of vulnerability, you choose to keep it safe and focus on more important matters— completing your mission and stopping a certain outlaw that dares open a door you long ago lost the key to.”

criminal!Soobin x detective!reader

Genre: enemies to… reluctant enemies? It’s weird. Mutual pining, angst, smut, he’s a cowboy your honor 

word count: 7.9K

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, guns, death, violence, blood, injuries, pet names (mostly anything with “pretty” in front of it.)

Smut Warnings: no established dom/sub dynamics, they’re just really hurt and angry, marking, possessiveness, dry humping, oral (f receiving), fingering, manhandling, cum eating,  teasing, begging, scratching, multiple orgasms, creampie 

Notes: this turned out so much sadder than I meant it to be?? It was just supposed to be a silly cowboy story, how did I get here… also, the song is really fitting… sad, but fitting. If you’re curious about anything after reading, feel free to ask me on my blog!

The air becomes tense the moment you step into the bar. 

It’s quiet— too quiet, the people seated around you leaning in and whispering secretly as though their conversations were dangerous. The air is foggy and dense with smoke as the customers drink under low lights, eyes shifting from the singer onstage to you, taking your figure in before they’re moving on to the next eye-catching thing. 

This bar is made up of regulars— everyday customers and familiar faces that nod to each other, waving over their favorite waitresses as they ask for another glass of whiskey— and her time, if she’s willing. The sight practically makes you gag, the wooden chair creaking lowly beneath you as you lean back to inspect the place; your hat is low on your head as you slowly scan the room, hyper-aware of every movement that is being made around you.

“How can I help you today ma’am?” The server before you is pretty, her perfectly rouge lips sculpted into an impeccable smile as she flutters her lashes sweetly at you; all you can do is softly dismiss her, asking for a simple glass of water as you try to ignore the confusion on her face. 

“ ‘m just waiting for someone, is all,” your voice is gruff as you find an odd need to clarify your behavior that might seem strange, a slight relief entering your system as you see her brightly nod in understanding before she’s off. 

You’re not here to drink at all, you think somberly, eyes flitting back to the main entrance for just a moment, but you’re not completely lying about waiting for someone. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the loud arguments that continue to build up to your left, the table next to you suddenly becoming fussy over a game of poker. Yet you pay them no mind, the dull glint of the guns in their holsters giving you more than enough of a warning to not spare them so much as a dirty look. 

“Here you are ma’am,” the waitress says, daintily placing down a glass of water before she’s standing straight, clearing her throat as you barely regard her, “let me know if there’s anything else you need.” 

A nod is all you give her— your attention is much more focused on the young man that enters the bar, quietly slipping in as he makes his way toward you. He’s tall, dressed in black jeans and a black leather jacket that contrasts greatly with the white button-up he wears. His shoes click softly to the beat of the singer’s song, arms lazily swinging by his sides as he reaches up to adjust his pristine, white cowboy hat.

Looking down, you allow your own hat to obscure your view as you feel him walk past you, the slight breeze he leaves behind allowing you to catch a whiff of his cologne— then he’s sitting, the loud screech of the chair against the wooden floor making you wince slightly as he allows himself to get comfortable. 

“Gentlemen,” you hear him say, the sight of him nodding to the same loud patrons from earlier being caught in your peripheral vision. His voice is soft and deep, and it only lowers more as he leans into the table, the rest following along as they begin to discuss a seemingly urgent matter. 

You try to listen in— you really do— but you’re unable to pick up on anything, your teeth gritting together in frustration as it all becomes incoherent mumbling to your ears. But then, you hear it— “reward money.”

You’re practically on the edge of your seat as you look forward, seemingly mesmerized by the woman on stage as your fingers drum along absentmindedly to the music. To any outsider, you’d look entirely drawn in by her performance— but it’s far from that. You think your ears might strain from how hard you attempt to listen in, a frown on your face as you’re only able to pick up on a few keywords; they all mash together until he pulls out a heavy key from his pocket, the sound of it a dull thud against the wooden table.

“Careful now boys,” he scolds, immediately placing a protective hand over it as the others attempt to snatch it away. His fingers are slender and careful as they wrap around the item, slowly picking it up before he’s stashing it away safely in an inner breast pocket— briefly, you allow yourself to steal a glance as your eyes hone in on the sight. 

“I worked mighty hard for that little key you saw there,” he pouts, leaning back in his seat as his arms are crossed over his chest firmly, the thick muscle showing even under the layers and dim lighting, “I think it’s time we discuss my payment.”

“How do we know you’re not cheatin’ us?” A man chimes in, a frown on his face as he leans on his elbows, “for all we know, that key could be a fake.”

“A fake?” The man scoffs, laughing softly as his brows raise in bewilderment, “you know I’d never do that you guys.” 

His words begin to become drowned out in your mind, much more focused instead on how you’re going to take that key away from them— and leave in one piece, of course. 

There are five of them now, you calculate, sparing a glance to the rest of the bar, no doubt that there are more of Yeonjun’s goons lying around as well. 

It’s surprising to see that the leader of his own gang isn’t present to take charge of the transaction, but you’re sure that he’s found other ways to entertain himself— briefly, your eyes wander back to the bar and its excess of pretty women; you grimace at your thoughts and its implications. 

Instead, his right-hand man seems to be present in his place— though, you’ve always thought Hueningkai had too much of a short temper to be a proper leader. Even now, your theory proves to be true, the young man glaring daggers at the sly man before them, clearly doubting every word he’s told as his posture remains stiff. 

“Come on now, you know Yeonjun wouldn’t have approved of this if he couldn’t trust me,” the man says, tipping back his hat as his narrowed eyes come into the light, “Why don’t you just give me the money now and hunt me down later if it makes you feel better.” 

You’re in disbelief that this man would be willing to give up this key so easily— whatever they’re offering, it must be more than enough.

There’s not a price that compares to what he has in his pocket, you think, just as suspicious as the substitute leader as you try not to glance back at the table again, it would be foolish to give it up now. 

That key could guarantee an easy life— the key to a hidden vault, filled to the brim with gold and smuggled treasures from the fortune of one of the greatest leaders that ever hit the underground crime scene; The late Kim Namjoon would be fuming if he knew it managed to slip out of his unknown heir’s hands. 

Then again, many speculate that it wasn’t a simple key that would open this vault— he was a great mind after all, and Kim Namjoon would not let such a flimsy security measure stick; it is rumored that the key that is currently slid across that wooden table is only the first step to acquiring the fortune. 

Your job is to see if that rumor proves to be true. 

The sound of a heavy briefcase brings you out of your daze— the recipient doesn’t even bother peering inside as a wide grin is spread across his face, thanking them as they all stand to leave; he doesn’t stand with them, bidding them goodbye and safe travels as he eagerly waves them away— it is silent, save for the sound of his whiskey glass hitting the table after he downed it; clicking his tongue, he sighs.

“Pretty lady, whatcha thinkin’ bout over there?”

His loud call doesn’t phase you; your fingernails dig into the wood as you trace shapes on it, not bothering to look at the sound of a chair being dragged against the wood. Slow, calculated steps come closer to you, and the thud of his briefcase comes first before the thud of his body falling into the chair. 

“Couldn’t solve the puzzle,” you pause, looking up as you catch the way the man’s smile widens as your eyes meet his, “Soobin?”

“Oh please,” he says, tilting his head as he leans forward, hand on his chin as he takes your appearance in, “you know all their brains put together couldn’t even amount to half of mine.” 

You roll your eyes at the thought— he’s as narcissistic as always.

“Too much work then?” You muse, pouting as a finger circles the rim of your glass mindlessly, “you gave it up so easily.”

“You hurt me, pretty girl,” Soobin says, a pout to match yours gracing his lips as he shakes his head, “you’ve always been one to underestimate me.”

“What is it, then?” You say, your voice hardening as you attempt to come up with reasoning for his actions, “what number could they have possibly given you that made you give up that key?” 

He tuts at your tone of voice— completely dismissive of the glare you fix him, he clicks his tongue as he feigns getting lost in thought; it isn’t long before a fiendish smile sneaks onto his lips. 

“There isn’t a price in the world that would make me hand that key over,” he says, leaning in so close that you think he might just pounce at you— but he doesn’t, sending you a wink instead, “Now I have to go before the chase begins.”

He’s taking off before you know it— the suitcase is left behind, and you’re out of your seat before you can second guess yourself. You kick the suitcase open— there’s nothing but paper in there. 

It was a setup. 

The absence of music is suddenly much more apparent to you— there are no workers around, and the silence is quickly filled by the bullets that come your way; the chair beside you breaks to pieces from the impact of the stray shots. 

You’re quick to flip the table on its side— even quicker to run away, only able to take down a few of Yeonjun’s men before you’re running out of bullets, the rest of the patrons much more involved as they partake in the fight that breaks out. The calming music that once filled the air is now replaced by bullets and the dull thuds of bodies falling around you; the familiar bark of Yeonjun’s voice reaches your ears, followed by hurried footsteps and mumbles of Soobin’s and your names. 

“That fuckin’ detective got some real guts, showin’ up and sittin’ beside us like that,” Yeonjun grits out, kicking away any obstacles as he continues his search, firing at every person that attempts to reach for their weapon and aim it at him.

“I know you’re still here, detective!” Yeonjun yells, fuming as he steps on the bullet wound of a patron— the scream of agony echoes throughout the place as you wince at the sound, “come out now and I’ll go easy on you!”

The only other exit is behind the bar in the employee’s lounge— and by now you’ve crawled your way into some random nook that you can feel your limbs beginning to tense, your teeth sinking into your tongue as you try to ignore the pool of blood from a nearby body that is slowly inching towards you.

“We could work together, even!” He muses, eyeing the place as he signals for his people to leave— he’s attempting to convince you, trying to make you feel more secure as the sight of an equal match could lower your guard. 

“We’re both after the same thing, right?” He says, spinning his gun before he’s firing off into some unknown hiding spot— the shot rings a long closer than you’d like, and you’re barely able to pick up on the offhanded oops that Yeonjun lets out. 

“I knew Soobin would cross me,” he sneers, firing again as he makes his way around the bar, “yet I still gave him the benefit of the doubt— sneaky little thing, that one.” 

Slowly, he makes his way to the center of the bar; he stops, surveying the area for any other places you might be. 

“I know how hard you’ve been workin’ to catch him— to catch both of us. How bout this,” he clicks his tongue, staring down at the barrel of his gun before he’s aiming it again, “work with me, and we’ll catch him— together! I’ll let you take all the credit for his capture… and you let a couple of my things slide under the table.” 

The shot is fired— the sound that rips through you is uncontrollable, the bullet that lodges itself in your bicep catching you off guard as you break the skin of your lip. Your attempt to put pressure on the wound is futile, and your mind is racing to find a way to escape. Looking up, you find that Yeonjun is already looming over you.

“There you are, cutie.”

 You flinch at the sight of him kicking away the debris that hid you so well; his foot stomps down, your eyes shutting instinctively as the blood of someone unknown splashes onto your face— the feeling makes you want to gag.

But you hold it all back as you’re being pulled up roughly, a weak groan leaving you as Yeonjun’s fingers dig into your wound— your mind is spinning so quickly that you’re helpless against the way he slams you against the wall, your cheek pressed against it as he restrains you.

“Quite the offer I put up, hmm?” He says, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he’s forcing you to look at him, “I’d take it if I were you.”

You don’t respond to his words; you know better than to make a deal with Yeonjun, but you’d rather have him think he’s got the upper hand while you wait for a vulnerable moment to appear. 

“Tempting,” you remark, frowning at the way his grip becomes bruising on your arm, “if I were as power-hungry as you.” 

“You’re quite the mean little thing, aren’t you?” He sighs, and your head is roughly pressed against the wall once more, “see, if we’re gonna work together, I don’t think I’d be able to put up with all that— that is of course unless you’d like to die instead.” 

The barrel of his gun is cool against your skin— slowly, the hammer of his revolver is pulled, and the glint in his eyes is unmistakable as he appears in your peripheral vision. 

“I know how fond you’ve been getting of our little friend,” he pouts, a mocking tone to his voice as he leans against you, “but I’d advise you to choose wisely here.” 

You’re trapped— he’s got you, and good, Yeonjun knows this— you see the way he grins at you, waiting patiently for you to decide as the pressure on your temple slowly begins to become worse; the innocent smile he sends you as you glare back at him does nothing to make you feel better. 

What other choice do you have? There’s nothing good that can come out of making a deal with Yeonjun, but you’ve come too far to give it all up now— shakily, you clear your throat, trying to find the words that only seem lodged in your throat. 

Yet, it seems to be your lucky day. 

The pressure at your temple is lifted as Yeonjun groans in pain, the shot still ringing throughout the bar as you take this moment to run, kicking his gun away before you do— and without realizing it, you effortlessly make your way to Soobin’s open arms. 

“Can’t believe you would trade me in like that,” you pay no mind to the way his arm wraps around yours protectively, attempting to shrug him off before he’s pulling you back to him. 

“If you go out now, you’ll die. There’s too many of them out there for you to go like that,” He hisses into your ear, leading you to the back exit and tucking you under his frame as he crouches down low, “just follow me.” 

You’re given no choice with the way your blood is beginning to seep through the cracks of your fingers— you need to get it treated, and fast. The sounds of Yeonjun’s men storming in is enough to have you urging Soobin to hurry, the two of you slipping out from the back and into the night sky. 

It’s foggy and humid as the pavement beneath you is still wet from the rainfall, and you’re far too surprised the moment that Soobin forces the two of you to take off into a sprint— quietly sneaking behind buildings and homes of those who are peacefully asleep. 

“Did you come here on foot?!” You hiss, your arm beginning to take a toll on you as your energy begins to seep out— you can hear the familiar clammer of hooves on the streets as Yeonjun’s people begin their search, only half the size as the others were left to protect their leader. 

“Of course not,” Soobin scoffs, and it isn’t long before you spot a horse tied to the post of a closed shop, “Just stationed myself at a safer distance.” 

The horse is sleek and taken care of— all of its equipment is pristine and expensive as Soobin assists you on, ignoring your protests and groans of pain as he scoots up closer behind you. 

“Grab on tight, pretty thing,” he says, gripping onto the reins as his thighs close around yours, “might be a bit of a bumpy ride.”

You don’t get another chance to adjust before he’s taking off, your body pressed against his as you feel the exhaustion of it all begin to take a toll on you. Your shirt is soaked and sticky— yet the pain has dulled down significantly as you fight to stay alert, unsure of what Soobin is planning as you race down empty, lonelier streets. 

The homes slowly become sparse— before you know it, you’re surrounded by trees, the terrain switching from pavement to the unstable grounds of the forest. The ride could almost be considered calming— that is, until a sudden gunshot has your eyes snapping wide open, stiffening up against Soobin’s chest as he commands his horse to go faster. 

“Stupid fucker found us,” Soobin grits, glancing back at the single person who managed to keep track of Soobin and your whereabouts. His shots are getting increasingly closer, and Soobin’s horse can only go so fast— before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching at his hip with your uninjured arm, taking the gun from his holster before you’re twisting dangerously to face back. 

“Hey, hey!” The sound of a gun being fired so close to his ear has Soobin losing control of his horse for a second, sending you a glare that would immediately make anyone wilt. But you ignore it, stretching out your good arm as you attempt to fire at the person chasing you once more, “watch it, are you crazy? You’re gonna fall!” 

You’re practically ready to slip off with the way you’re forced to twist around, Soobin’s arm flying to secure itself on your waist as you two go over a rocky spot— the sudden movement makes you wince as you miss another shot.

“I don’t have infinite bullets either now!” He says, sneaking a glance back before he’s back to rushing his horse, “you better aim right if you’re gonna hit him!” 

“I’m trying!” You bark, gritting your teeth at his insults, “it’d help a lot if you’d shut up!”

You can tell he’s getting ready to say something— but he holds back, cursing under his breath as his grip on your waist secures. Slowly, you take a deep breath; it’s hard to spot your target in such a dark forest, but as you attempt to take a moment to concentrate, you’re finally able to get a clear shot— the relief that floods through you is unexpected as you slump against Soobin’s hold.

“Easy there, don’t go all soft on me either,” he says, twisting you back around before he’s caging you in; he feels warm, the feeling oddly welcomed as exhaustion threatens to creep up on you. Attempting to fight it back, you find it to be much more persistent than before— which is why you feel a tinge of panic when your eyelids become uncontrollably heavy. 

“Just a little bit more,” you hear Soobin say, his voice a muffled mess to your ears, “I’ll patch you up then.”

With the ride much calmer than it was moments ago, you finally find it in yourself to rest. 

✩ ☆ ✩

“Here, slowly,” Soobin’s bed is soft as he slowly guides you down on it, attempting to ignore the way you wince in pain from the awkward angle your arm remains in. He quickly leaves to get supplies to patch you up, and you take a moment to regain your composure. 

It’s strange— his home is cozy, well-decorated, and clearly used a lot. For someone like him, you’d expect something more barren; he has no pictures, no true personal touches that could link this small cabin to him— but it’s intimate nonetheless, the smell of him filling the air and mixing in with the faint scent of a candle that sits at his nightstand. 

You don’t get much of a chance to look around as Soobin quickly returns— his jacket and hat have been discarded, and you take in his appearance as you wince at the state of his white button-up; now coated red on the right side with your blood. Meeting his eyes, you frown— his dyed hair is ruffled messily as he lays down his supplies next to you, placing down a short stool before he’s sitting down in front of you, knees knocking your legs open carelessly as he situates himself between them.

“Your shirt— here, let me…” Slowly, he moves to cut the sleeve for better access; you stop him midway, your uninjured hand hesitantly reaching for the buttons of your shirt instead. 

You really don’t have to, you hear him mumble, slightly panicked, but you shake your head, knowing it’d be much easier for you to take the item off than to have him struggle with the fabric around your injury. It’s quiet, your eyes much more focused on a point behind him as you carefully shrug off your sullied shirt— he’s quick to assist you, his gentle hands brushing against the warm skin of your shoulders as he places the shirt to the side. 

Shakily, your eyes meet his; his eyes are focused as they take in the state of your wound, brows furrowed and his lip caught in his teeth as he winces at how messy the injury has become. It’s oddly tense— you haven’t been this close to Soobin in a long time, quiet and vulnerable as you allow him to take care of you. 

Sweat begins to bead on your skin as he begins to take a hold of your arm, examining the wound once more before he begins the process of trying to take the bullet out— a small warning is all you get before he offhandedly points at a pillow nearby for you to hold onto. 

Instead, your hand immediately finds purchase on his thigh— it’s instinctive, and you don’t stop to gauge his reaction as your fingers hold on desperately, gritting your teeth as you bear the uncomfortable feeling of Soobin taking out the bullet.

It’s quiet, but you can hear soft words of praise and reassurance fall from his lips, kind words that serve to encourage you as he finally takes the small bullet out; the piece is carefully put onto a tissue that is left to be discarded. You attempt to remain silent as he cleans your injury, clearing off the dried blood that ran down your arm as he softly brushes the wet cloth against your skin. It isn’t until you’re all clean that he begins to apply alcohol to it as well. 

“Shit— sorry,” you grit, startled by the sudden sting as he immediately pulls away, whispering an apology of his own before hesitantly tending to you again. After a moment, your body becomes relaxed in his hold once more, allowing him to gain the confidence to tend to you freely again. 

The stitches don’t feel too bad; he’s awful skilled, the action quick and effortless as you keep quiet through it all, the feeling of the gauze wrapping around your bicep and applying subtle pressure to your wound finally giving you the relief you didn’t know you needed. 

Soobin looks more at ease as well— and before you can pick up on what he’s doing, he’s taking your uninjured hand gingerly, his fingers delicate as he holds onto your wrist lightly. The cloth in his hand is warm as he wipes you with it, thoroughly taking each of your fingers as he wipes off all the blood that managed to cake on; then, it slowly moves up to your face, cleaning off the blood of someone unknown as your eyes meet Soobin’s; your lips part as you stare at him, unsure of what to do as he remains concentrated on his task.

He looks so different from before— there’s a heavy look in his eyes, as though the life he’s lived has been filling itself with nothing but regrets. And as you take in the way his hand lingers, carefully caressing your cheek, you wonder bitterly if this was one of them.

“Why are you doing all this?” You ask, your voice much softer than you expected it to be— there’s no more energy to be malicious to him, only exhaustion and a burning curiosity left in you as you watch him hesitate to answer. 

“I couldn’t let them take you like that,” he says, a frown settling on his features as he slowly pulls away— the absence of his touch feels jarring, your hand curling into a fist as you listen to him speak, “they would’ve used you to get what they wanted from me.”

“What, too scared that I would’ve caught you?” You quip, oddly angered that even now, all he can think of is himself. You don’t know why the words feel so poisonous on your tongue, the anger that ignites inside you only stirring more as you watch the way he becomes angered by your accusation. 

“They would have a hold of my greatest weakness,” he grits out, as though admiring it aloud brings him another wave of anger. His eyes stare at the tight fist that rests on your thigh— then they meet yours, narrowed and pointed as his lips turn down in distaste.

“You.” 

The word feels like a punch to the stomach— you can feel the air leave your lungs as you stare at him, unsure of what to make out of his words as he stares at you with that same fire in his eyes, a fire that is unwilling to back down on his claim.

His greatest weakness— you. And he would be damned if he let Yeonjun of all people lay their hands on you, free to do as they pleased as they used you for leverage— or worse, used you to kill him. 

“Stop spouting nonsense,” you say, an unknown rage blooming within you as he regards you with such a fire, “you showed me just how much you cared the day you turned your back to our work and all we stood for.”

The memory is enough to leave a bitter taste on your tongue; you can tell the mention of it is enough to have him back down like a wounded puppy, unsure of how to respond to that. 

You trusted Soobin, once— and you learned your lesson when he pushed you out of his life, turning to a life of shadows as your partner you once trusted your life with became no better than the everyday criminals you went after. The humiliation of it all set deep into your bones— a deep grudge that reared its head even now, when Soobin seemed to be ready to come back to ask for forgiveness. 

“___,” the sound of your name on his lips is bittersweet. His effect on you is unrivaled, a fact you wish wasn’t true as you attempt to hide the way the sound sends electric shocks through you. He’s somber, his eyes searching yours in hopes of breaking through and finding an emotion akin to his, “you have no idea how much I cared.” 

“I have full access to the vault.” His words clear your mind out effortlessly, “I’m the heir.”

The heir to the fortune— the new leader of the crime syndicate Kim Namjoon spent years building up under the shadows. The man before you was not who he claimed to be— he never was. Hesitantly, he takes your hand— he’s shaky, fingers lacing with yours as he leans into you, long legs knocking against yours as the space he made for yourself becomes wider. There’s a new emotion that coats his face, free and unadulterated as he looks deeply into your eyes.

“Join me.” His words are breathy as you stare at him, confused, angry, hesitant. “You’ll never have to worry about anything again— I could care for you.”  

Your hand feels like fire in his— you pull away like you’ve been burned, disbelief on your face as Soobin stares at you like a scolded child, doe eyes soft and shining under the soft lights of the lamp on his nightstand. 

“I—“ it’s hard to speak— why is it so hard? The words are stuck on your tongue as you stare at him, the man you cared for so deeply, offering a chance to start over. A chance you’ve dreamed about since the day he disappeared from you, a chance that you never allowed yourself to properly hope for, and it’s finally being presented to you.

“I can’t.” 

Soobin knew your answer before he asked— there was never any other option for you. But the pain, the confusion you feel building within you is much more unexpected, your mind fogging as the reality of it all begins to set in. 

“This whole time…” you begin, brows furrowed as the conflicting emotions form a torrent within you, wild and uncontrollable as your mouth enables them to be let loose. 

“You knew everything. What his group was doing, where he was, how to catch him—“ your eyes flick back to his, wounded and sharp in hopes of getting him to the same level as you, “you knew it all. Yet you lied in my face, led me on whenever I thought we finally had a lead.” 

“And yet you beg me to believe that you still care for me?” 

He shakes his head, reluctant to give up as he attempts to reassure you again. 

“I’m sorry— I wasn’t in control of my life back then. I never meant to hurt you,” his attempts to dissuade your feelings are futile, for his claims do nothing but egg you on even more. 

“The moment I leave this cabin,” you growl, glaring at him as you speak, “we will be nothing more but enemies. Forget everything about me. You’ll become my one target from this moment on.” 

A new resolve has formed on your face— Soobin knows you’ll never hate him more than you do now. 

“Your life will be in my hands.”

“The moment you leave this cabin…” he whispers, determined to see you crack, for even a small moment longer, “I will no longer hold back on you. My sweet killer…” 

He’s so close— why would you let him get so close? His lips are practically brushing against yours, eyes lidded and low as he leans towards you, your head tilted down as his puppy eyes continue to shine, even now. 

“Give me one last memory to keep of you.” 

The feeling of your lips crashing against his is unexpected; but the anger inside you is too hot, too rapid for you to simply leave like this. You’ve lived your life filled with regrets— what’s one more going to do to you?

Soobin’s hum of surprise is muffled by your kiss that threatens to take him whole— your yearning, so eager and greedy, is like a switch to him; he’s chasing after you, leaning into your touch desperately as his hands meet the skin of your bare waist. His touch leaves a trail of fire, caressing and smoothing out the skin as he feels every scar, sees every bruise, any detail that he might be able to ingrain into his mind. 

Your back sinks into the mattress— you’re unsure of when Soobin decided to become so greedy, the kiss rough as he allows himself to bite at your lip, his hair soft against your face as a trail of kisses and marks are left along the column of your neck. His touch will be left for weeks to come— he’s determined to make it so, determined to make you have to face your reflection and the memory of him, the memory of his want for you. 

Tangled limbs, pressure against your body— the act is messy and desperate as Soobin has half the mind to leave your injured arm as undisturbed as possible, supporting his weight on one arm as he allows the other to explore your body; trailing up your waist, fingers tracing along the expanse of your chest, ready to take your bra off with ease. Your hand is careless as it rips away his buttons, desperate to have him the same way he has you. 

His chest is smooth and sturdy— his muscles are firm under your touch, honey skin littered with bruises and scars that have your fingertips tracing along them, briefly wondering what stories might belong with them, the memories he carries engraved within him. 

His hips are slotted desperately between yours; you didn’t realize how he was able to get into such a position so easily, his hand already venturing from your breasts to cup your face, hovering above you as he whispers to you, his voice breathy and sultry that it takes effort to listen to what he says. 

“I’ve wanted to have you like this longer than I can remember,” he says, his eyes meeting yours and conveying words his mouth refuses to speak. Close. Needy. Vulnerable. “It hurts to think that I’ll be losing you again after this.” 

If you had any fight with his words, it died the moment his hips rolled firmly into yours. The breath that escapes him is shaky and labored, and he’s unable to control himself as he finds his mind loosening, words spilling beyond his comprehension as the pressure of his body against yours makes you rock back into him. 

“I’ll be damned if I ever let Yeonjun have you like this,” he says, fingers digging into your hips as his thrusts become harsh, uncalculated, and desperate, “I would’ve killed him.”

A small groan leaves your mouth at that— his eyes that once sparkled under the light, pleading for forgiveness, hardened into something foreign, wild and needy as he took what he could from you, the feeling of him hard and pulsing against you making your head fog with need.

Adjusting his position, he stands— you feel your body moving along with him, hips dangling dangerously over the bed as he holds you there, hands already working to get your pants undone.

“What makes you think he would’ve done any of that?” You ask, breathless as his sharp eyes meet yours, filled with an emotion you hesitate to pinpoint. 

“That man would fuck anything that moves,” Soobin growls, your body bare before him as he begins to kneel, your legs thrown over his shoulders carelessly as you gulp at the action, “I can’t imagine what he’d do to a pretty thing like you.”

He’s good at rendering you speechless— that is, if his mouth sucking firmly on your clit had anything to do with it. He’s desperate, eager to have you fall apart on his tongue as he feels your body jolt at the stimulation, a hand grabbing at his hair to bring him closer still. 

His fingers that slip through your entrance has your mouth falling open and your eyes fluttering shut, a small whimper slipping out of you as he groans, his mind reeling at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, pulling him in and asking for more. 

Soobin can’t help but wonder how you would feel wrapped around his cock, your arousal like an aphrodisiac to him as he finds himself growing needier, tongue messily laving at your clit as his fingers speed up the process, thick and long as a third soon finds its way inside. 

Your body is tensing quickly; the pleasure is overwhelming, the sight of having Soobin kneeling before you, desperate and lost in your pleasure as his eyes flutter open, meeting yours boldly has your thighs squeezing around his head uncontrollably. Your hips are left in his control as his hands grip onto them tightly, forcing you into him even more as his warm lips wrap around your clit once more, sucking and tongue flicking at the bud in hopes of feeling you fall apart in his hold. 

Unexpectedly, his name leaves your lips; it’s a sweet mewl that has him painfully aware of how hard he’s become, the bulge constricting against the fabric of his pants as he can only listen to the sweet sounds you make—and hope that he’ll have you coming apart on his cock soon as well. 

Your hips buck against his face mindlessly— it’s too much, yet not enough, his fingers thrusting roughly and curling to hit that spot that makes you see stars. The pleasure is hot and blinding as you feel it beginning to build up, your mouth agape as moans and cries to keep going cascade through you like a waterfall. 

His name becomes a prayer on your lips. Soobin. Soobin, please, you whimper, your good hand reaching down to tangle itself into his hair once more. His touch is addictive, and before you can realize what’s happening, you’re coming undone, his pace never faltering as he allows you to ride it out, your hips rolling carelessly on his face. 

You’re left a panting and weak mess in Soobin’s hold, your head sinking back into the mattress as you feel his fingers slowly slip out of you— a weak whine escapes you as his tongue cleans you up, running along your slit and teasing your entrance before he’s parting from you. Your head tilts as your eyes meet his, his eyes blown out and filled with lust as his tongue and lips slowly wrap around his fingers— cleaning your essence off it slowly, your mind swirling at the sight as you quickly find your pussy clenching desperately against nothing. 

 “My pretty girl,” he sighs out, his fingers making quick work of undoing his jeans, “you have no idea how badly I wanted to take you with me all this time. Years ago, throughout all this time, even today.”

He’s painfully hard as his cock finally springs into view— his hand is quick to wrap around it, his tip leaking and flushed as a thumb runs over it; his body jolts at the feeling, slowly fucking into his fist as his eyes don’t leave yours for a second. 

“Why didn’t you?” You breathe out, legs locking around his waist and pulling him eagerly. Your thighs are so warm and soft around him, his tip teasing your entrance as he fucks himself against your pussy, never pushing through enough to enter you. He can feel your wetness coating him, fogging his mind as his own arousal mixes with yours, the sight so dirty and desperate that he feels his hips buck in need. 

“I don’t know. I should’ve begged you for forgiveness the moment I first saw you,” his words, you realize, are genuine— your lidded eyes clear for a moment, and the conflicting emotions from before attempt to rear their head once more. You gulp, words dying on your tongue as his tip begins to prod at your entrance. 

“Beg for it now. Apologize,” you breathe out, a hand placing itself over his as his head snaps up to meet your gaze. Your nails dig into his forearm as your thighs lock around him, your gaze angry and demanding as you roll your hips into him in frustration, “since you seem so desperate for me.” 

His gaze softens— hesitantly, his lips part, tongue running over them as his tip finally breaches inside you. The stretch is unexpected, your walls immediately closing around him and attempting to pull him in as he subtly leans towards you. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Your arm slides from his forearm to his bicep— you’re pulling him in, his other arm coming down to support his weight as he leans over you. This is only the beginning, your eyes say, sharp and narrowed as you prompt him to continue. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, slowly pushing inside you as he stops to allow you to feel every vein, every detail, rubbing along your warm walls and curving as his hips buck unintentionally. 

“I was a fool to leave you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since,” it’s sincere, you can see it in the way his expression furrows as he continues talking, frustration laced in his voice as his hips finally meet yours, pressing firmly as he bottoms out. 

Your fingers dig into the skin of his bicep— roughly, you pull him down, his face hovering above yours, dangerously closer as you watch his adam’s apple bob nervously. You don’t have to say anything— the fire in your eyes is more than enough for him, the room silent save for the sounds of your breaths that intertwine as his hips slowly begin to move, barely pulling out as he relishes in the feeling of being inside you. 

“I’m terrified of losing you again,” he admits, his confession shifting into unknown territories as his mind fogs up once more, “I’m sorry I couldn’t face you sooner.”

You say nothing— all you can do is scan his expression, his eyes that are lidded and filled with so many dangerous emotions. In response, your fingers tangle themselves in his hair— bringing him down to you as your lips meet him in a hungry kiss. 

His hips don’t hesitate to pick up the pace; the feeling of you clenching around him is driving him mad, his cock managing to hit a spot that has your mouth falling open, lips left victim to Soobin’s teasing bites, the feeling of his teeth sinking into the bottom flesh making you whimper uselessly against him.

He may be the one that’s pounding into you restlessly, leaving your mind blank and his name on your tongue, but you’re the one that truly has him intoxicated. He wants to feel you, all of you, your chest that rubs against his driving him mad as he becomes hyper-aware of how much he can feel you against him. You’re practically sinking into the bed with the force he drives himself into you, skin slapping against skin and his pelvis smacking against yours as your arousal only increases with every action. 

He’s wrapped tightly around your finger, and the last thing he wants to do is let go. 

“___,” your name is like honey on his lips, the sound of it rolling off his tongue so effortlessly that he can’t help but find himself saying it again, and again, a mantra of his own as he feels the way you recklessly fuck back into him, nails digging into his shoulder before they’re scratching down his back— the stinging sensation that’s left behind only serves to spur him on, the thought of having your scars on his body for days to come driving him mad. 

“I don’t want you to think of anyone else,” he says, breathless against you as your arm throws itself over his shoulders, fingers tangling themselves in his hair as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. 

“Think of me every time you look at yourself in the mirror, when you see the places I touched,” his hand trails down to your hip, fingers squeezing the supple flesh before it moves to circle your clit, your legs tightening against him before you're bucking your hips wildly, “when you touch yourself, wish it were me that was there for you.“

“No one will ever be able to care for you like I do.”

His cock is abusive against the spot that drives you wild. It reaches it with ease, hitting it thrust after thrust. One, twice, three times. Then you’re coming undone, a weak whimper all you can manage as you wrap around him like a vice. It’s enough to set him off as well, a soft groan escaping him as his hips struggle to keep a proper rhythm. Your bodies move together in harmony regardless, riding out each other’s highs as the warm feeling of his cum fills you, never-ending as it slowly begins to leak out before he’s fucking it back into you.

It’s silent, and neither of you can muster anything to say as you’re both catching your breath; Soobin’s face quickly buries itself into your neck, his lips ghosting along your skin as he speaks. 

“Stay,” he pleads, arms slowly circling your waist before you’re pulled into him, warm and secure in his hold. “Just for tonight. Stay a while longer.”

Softly, his head moves along your shoulder, his hair feather-like as it brushes against you. His lips graze a trail along, leaving a gentle kiss on the shoulder of your injured arm. 

“After tonight,” you breathe out, your hand traitorous as it caresses his scalp gently, the memories of your past and your moments together reviving a dangerous feeling, “I’ll forget everything about you— we’ll be nothing more than enemies.”

Softly, Soobin nods; his gaze never meets yours, the two of you adjusting in his bed as he allows you to rest on his chest. You’re a pile of tangled limbs, hearts beating in one as you wonder if you could’ve had this years ago, free of complicated emotions and regrets. 

“If I am to die by anyone’s hands, it will only be yours,” he says, hand encasing yours as he brings it to rest over his heart. “Promise me it will be so.” 

A game of death— you’ve always been incredible at your job, and there hasn’t been a single mission you haven’t completed. But, feeling him under your palm, warm and beating for you, you find the words stuck in your throat for a moment. 

“I promise.”

The cabin falls into complete silence as the feeling of you finally in his arms lulls Soobin into a deep sleep; he’ll think of this night for years to come, if he’s able to.

His words are nothing but a lie— he’ll never be able to forget you. 

And after tonight, neither will you. 

[happyely2]

Pairing: Portuguese D. Ace x Fem!Reader

Rating: It will vary from story to story and I will point it out at the time (green-for-all; orange-for a mature audience; red-for adults, minors are asked to skip this story).

General Summary: Ten Different Alternative Universes In which you will experience an extraordinary adventure with Ace (plots and more details are written under the respective title). Soon they will be published one by one, for now I leave the plots in general.

General Inspired: I will write from time to time the possible inspirations that have been taken as references to write.

Let’s Meet Agian In The Next Life

[📿Exorcism!AU📿] - The spirit of the red fire

You’ve been called in to exorcise a demon that’s causing a lot of trouble for the community in a quiet country village, so you don’t expect that curse to give you such a hard time.

[📚School!AU📚] - Breaktime at school

Ace is the most popular guy in high school, he’s a senior, and he’s going to college soon, so you don’t expect him to know who you are, a little third-year-old girl who’s doing very well in school. You don’t know how wrong you are.

[👑Royalty!AU👑] - Midnight Ball

You didn’t object when the mystery knight gave you his hand to go down the garden stairs, it was your last night of freedom before you had to marry someone you hardly knew. A moonlight dance before you become the wife of the future king of the kingdom with a mysterious knight you would love in silence for years to come.

[✨PeterPan!AU✨] - Lost Girl in Neverland

Second star right and then straight until morning! But wait for the lost children are not so children but they are teenagers!? Fairies and mermaids are friendly? Indians are a rowdy group of adults who want to dance all night and pirates are not real pirates but admirals of the navy? What kind of island are you in, and since Peter Pan has freckles and black hair and calls himself Ace?

[🔮Magic!AU🔮] - Rebel

Ace never thought he’d have to ask you, a witch, for help to save his family. But he is a warrior who is willing to do anything to save the people he loves, even to come to terms with a witch like you.

[🐺Omegaverse!AU🐺] - Damn to that beta

The biggest cliché in the world? You made it happen. You always considered yourself a beta with little sex craving and always squabbling with her beta neighbor. So you don’t expect that the day you go for the analysis something snaps in you and that you’re both soul mates. In short! You can’t be the soul mate of your neighbor Beta (actually Alpha) Ace! And you can’t be his Omega.

[🏹Indian!AU🏹] - The arrow of fate

Travel to the new world! Gold, riches, adventures and new lands to explore! That’s what they promised, but now Ace was wondering how he could explain that those were really fake things and that the only thing that drew gold were the hair of a certain Indian who had snatched his heart?

[⚔️Moschettieres!AU⚔️] - Damsel in distress

"And you call that a lunge?" You shouted behind the back of the man who was fighting to protect you.

"Then fight you mademoiselles!" The Musketeer answered you by stretching out the enemy that was attacking you and taking you for life to take away. What was all that effrontery towards the poor Musketeer Ace who was fighting to save you at the behest of his majesty!

"With great pleasure!" You answered by beating your fists on his shoulder. There were no bridesmaids anymore.

[🚓Police!AU🚓] - Cat Burglar

Ace had just joined the police force when he was given a very important case by Commissioner Smoker. Catch a famous thief who always announces her shots before getting them. I mean, it seems easy, but nobody on the police force has ever done it. And the policeman Ace will have to invent one more than the devil to succeed in catching tha

[💰Far West!AU💰] - The Naked Gun

There is only one law in the bar: no fighting is allowed and as a bartender you are categorical, your rifle is ready to fire a warning shot at anyone who dares even think of trying. You just haven’t met the outlaw Portuguese D. Ace and his wacky gang of bandits.

[mayanaise111]

The life of a hero has never been, and will never be, easy. You’re isolated in your secret, bearing the feeling of walking this path alone, with the weight of the world resting solely on your shoulders. It’s a torment that you endure, sparing others from sharing in the same pain. The isolation is suffocating as you navigate a world that sees only a fraction of who you truly are.

“With great power comes great responsibility” the last words his grandfather whispered on his deathbed still haunted him. It’s been years since the old man passed away, leaving Yuji alone with a promise to keep. His grandfather was the only person who knew his secret. In that moment, Yuji vowed never to reveal his true identity to anyone else, to never endanger anyone again.

Yuji sat on the edge of the skyscraper, his legs dangling over the abyss as he gazed out at Tokyo, a city that seemed to stretch endlessly into the night. From this height, everything below was a sea of shimmering lights, each district glowing with its own pulse - neon pinks, electric blues, and vibrant greens creating a living mosaic of color. The streets far below were like rivers of light, cars moving in steady streams, their headlights leaving trails of white and red that intertwined like veins across the cityscape.

Itadori sighed as the overwhelming thoughts invaded his mind, a heavy weight pressing down on him even in this moment of quiet solitude. The wind tousled his pink hair and tugged at his clothes as he sat there, the vastness of the city making him feel both powerful and small at the same time. Skyscrapers rose around him like massive guardians of steel and glass, their windows reflecting the glow of the neon signs and billboards that lit up the night. The low hum of Tokyo’s heartbeat reached him even up here.

For a moment, Yuji allowed himself to soak in the view. The city felt like it was his to command, every rooftop and alleyway a path waiting to be explored. Up here, time seemed to slow, the chaotic energy of Tokyo below contrasting with the quiet stillness of his viewpoint. This was his city, a place of endless possibilities and hidden dangers, where every corner held a new challenge and every night brought something unexpected.

“Damn,” Itadori murmured, adjusting his mask to conceal his identity. His eyes swept over the cityscape one last time, the dazzling array of lights below shimmering like a constellation of countless stories. Tokyo stretched out before him, a sprawling tapestry of life and energy, and he felt intricately connected to every thread of it. The city's pulse echoed through him, each beat invigorating his spirit.

With a deep breath, he cast aside any lingering doubts, allowing the vibrant energy of the city to fill him completely. Then, with a fluid, graceful leap, Yuji launched himself into the darkness, becoming one with the dynamic web of Tokyo by night. His movements were smooth and effortless, blending seamlessly with the rhythm of the city below as he glided through the shadows.

Navigating his way towards his lonely dorm, he made sure to stay out of sight, his form barely a whisper against the backdrop of bustling streets. Tomorrow marked a new beginning for him - his first day of college so the villains and criminals had to wait, there are things important and more important, and right now the most important thing was to not become a walking joke around his new peers. As he moved silently through the night, the anticipation of the fresh start mingled with his usual nighttime patrols, and he felt a quiet determination settle within him. Tonight, he was not just a guardian of Tokyo but a young man on the brink of a new chapter, ready to embrace both the challenges and opportunities that awaited him.

The late hour certainly didn’t help his nerves, not that he expected to fall asleep easily with emotions bubbling restlessly within him. The uncertainty of tomorrow gnawed at him, intertwining with the thrill of the unknown. Would he fit in? Could he lead a normal life by day while keeping the city safe by night? These questions swirled in his mind, unanswered but not ignored.

He approached the dormitory building, his senses heightened as always, making sure to avoid any unwanted attention. He slowly opened the window, staying within the shadows, and slipped into his room with practiced ease. The familiar scent of the small, cramped space, filled with all the geeky things imaginable, welcomed him - a sanctuary from the world outside, yet also a reminder of the isolation his responsibilities often demanded.

As he stood in the darkness, the room’s silence was almost suffocating, amplifying the thoughts racing through his mind. Tomorrow he would walk among strangers, pretending to be just another student, but tonight he was still the vigilant protector of Tokyo, balancing on the edge of two worlds. With a deep breath, he closed the window behind him, sealing away the night and all its dangers, at least for a few hours. He knew that sleep, if it came at all, would be fleeting. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement beneath the anxiety - a small ember of hope that maybe, just maybe, this new beginning would lead him toward something more than just another mission, another night alone.

Yuji bolted out of his dorm, the morning sun already high in the sky as he raced across campus. His backpack slung haphazardly over one shoulder, he weaved through clusters of students, his mind still foggy from the few hours of restless sleep he managed to catch. The urgency of the morning felt entirely different from the tense calm of the night before - now, it was a mad dash to avoid being late for his first physics lecture.

“Sorry, sorry,” he muttered as he pushed through the crowd that tried to not be late on the first day just like him. The campus was a maze of halls and even moving in earlier than necessary wasn’t much of a help at this moment.

He barely had time to grab breakfast but it could wait. It’s not like not eating breakfast would kill you. He dashed toward the lecture hall promising himself silently that he would get done with this class. The first he would do is get a coffee, the big one, of course, to survive the day, and maybe a donut.

The lecture hall was in sight now, and with a final burst of speed, he reached the door just as the clock struck the hour. Breathless, Yuji paused for a split second to compose himself, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow before pushing open the heavy door. The room was already filled with students, their murmurs and the rustling of notebooks creating a low hum that seemed to echo off the walls. The professor was just about to start, adjusting his glasses and glancing up from his notes as Yuji slipped inside. He quickly scanned the room for an open seat, spotting one near the back. He navigated the narrow aisles as discreetly as he could, though a few heads turned to watch him pass.

The professor, a stern-looking man with graying hair and a no-nonsense demeanor, was already starting his introduction. Yuji fumbled with his bag, pulling out a notebook and pen, his mind racing to catch up with the fast-paced lecture. The equations on the board were complex, far more advanced than anything he’d encountered before. The reality of college hit him like a ton of bricks - this wasn’t high school anymore.

As the professor delved into the intricacies of Newtonian mechanics, Itadori found himself struggling to focus. His thoughts kept drifting back to the events of the previous night, the quiet streets of Tokyo, and the dual life he was now trying to balance. Every now and then, he glanced around the room, wondering how many of his classmates had their own secrets, their own challenges hidden beneath the surface. Were they as bad as his own little secret? He smirked to himself as he started doodling in his notebook. The thought seemed absurd - of course, no one else had to deal with being the infamous Spider-Man. Only he bore that burden.

The night before started to let him know of its presence as he found himself unable to keep his eyes open. The professor's voice began to blur into a monotonous drone, the equations on the board becoming obscure patterns. Yuji's head grew heavier with each passing moment, and despite his best efforts, his eyelids drooped shut.

He didn’t know how long he had been out, but suddenly, he was jolted awake by the sound of his name.

"Mr. Yuji," the professor's stern voice cut through the haze. "If you find my lecture that boring, perhaps you’d like to continue your nap outside."

“I am sorry,” Itadori said as a few snickers erupted from around the room. He blinked quickly, attempting to rid himself of the lingering drowsiness, but it was already too late. The professor's gaze was locked on him, leaving no chance to avoid the situation.

“Gather your things and leave,” the professor added, his tone leaving no room for argument. “If it happens again, I will fail you.”

“I understand, I am sorry,” Yuji quickly stuffed his notebook and pen back into his bag, avoiding eye contact with the other students. As he stood up, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor seemed painfully loud in the suddenly quiet room.

The door closed behind him with a soft click, and Yuji was left standing in the empty hallway, a wave of frustration washing over him. The consequences of his double life had caught up with him faster than he’d anticipated, and now, on the first day of class, he was already off to a promising start.

“So that’s what I get for keeping this city safe,” he thought to himself. “At least I can finally grab a coffee.”

Yuji sighed and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the embarrassment of being kicked out of his first lecture. He wandered down the hallway, his steps echoing off the sterile, white walls. The bustling campus had taken on a different character now, filled with students who moved about with a casual ease he envied.

As he approached the campus coffee shop, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted him.He pushed through the door and was enveloped by the warmth and the mellow beats of a chill R&B song playing softly in the background. The place was cozy and surprisingly peaceful, he had to admit it.

He patiently took his place in the small line at the register, keeping his head down. It was a habit he’d developed to stay under the radar and avoid unnecessary attention. With only a few people scattered around, he didn't have to wait long before it was his turn to order.

As he approached the counter, he glanced up briefly and as his eyes met the barista he froze. The slightly taller, dark haired boy looked at him with a soft smile.

“What can I get you today?”

It took Yuji a moment longer than he would have liked to regain his composure. He blinked a few times, momentarily lost in the boy’s easy demeanor. The unexpected familiarity of the barista’s smile stirred something within him, something he never felt before.

“Uh, just a black coffee, please,” Yuji finally managed, his voice coming out a bit more hesitant than he intended.

“Coming right up,” the boy nodded and turned to prepare his drink.

As the barista handed him the coffee, their fingers brushed slightly, sending a brief jolt through Yuji. He met the boy’s gaze again, this time with a genuine, if slightly embarrassed, smile.

“Thanks,” Yuji said, accepting the coffee. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem at all,” the barista replied, his smile widening slightly. “Have a good one.”

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

My son Yanqing!!!!!!! (hides the angsty ideas) Do you have any headcannons for him?

HOLY COW WTH YOU GUYS ARE FAST—I OPEN MY HSR REQ AND THERE'S ALREADY ONE REQUEST IN MY MAILBOX—

And yes hide those angsty ideas for later—I traumatize him too, even though I love him-

I do have a few headcanons of Yanqing, so allow me to scrape them together into one fat pile!

Yanqing Headcanons!

(Disclaimers: Keep in Mind, this is Strictly Platonic! Might be OOC as well!)

I'd like to imagine that Yanqing loves to hide up in trees or areas where he is able to fit himself in. Especially closets. idk why but I sometimes see him as a gremlin child /pos

After a frustrating chess match with the General, I imagine Yanqing doesn't touch a starchess board for a week or two until he goes right back at it to beat his father old man. Boi is very ambitious

I feel like after the Luofu Story Quest and (probably) Jingliu's Companion Quest, Yanqing tries to avoid the topic entirely about the High Cloud Quintet and their history, and the times that he does talk/mention them, it's usually very surface-level questions. He may be young, but he knows how to read the room—he is the lieutenant after all.

Yanqing has curfew because we all know Jing Yuan would get grey hairs if Yanqing stayed up all night to practice and run drills. Sometimes Yanqing does it just to make Jing Yuan feel old/grow grey hairs, and somehow he actually still has the energy to keep up with the day—

(On the angst note but) I feel like Yanqing might have picked up the bad habit of the General's where he just swallows up how he truly thinks and feels and keeps it secluded to himself. Yanqing is mainly expressive through his expressions due to his age, but he certainly keeps his damaged pride hidden very well—especially under important/urgent circumstances. Humility is hard to face when pride is all that you got—something which I think Yanqing kind of lives up to in a sense.

And that's all I got for the Swallow Boy! I hope you enjoyed these headcanons of mine, anon :)

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I need to stop encouraging angst before it becomes an issue /j

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

Ngl if the sigewinne story was more 'Neuvillette instructed the melusines that it's alright gifting people in need gifts despite past prejudice' i would be fine with it. But the fact they wrote it in a way that implies that he instructed them specifically to care for Wriothesley makes me uhhhhhhh

Sir you are aware this child is an orphan and the best you can do is tell the melusines to feed him? What about other orphans? You have the guards at your command to help people??

I'm alot more fine with the 'Neuvillette cant do anything about the shit law despite being iudex' thing, like I'm okayish chalking it up to he's not human, it wasn't his job / wasn't told to fix the law and shit he is a judge first and foremost. But this story is NOT helping because it implies he HAS the capacity to comprehend SOMETHING is wrong and has the will to fix it and just... does nothing???

Sir this is not helping the collusion allegations

Idk man i'm a wriolette apologist i'm so alright with waving off the shallow plot beats to cater to the shippers thing but they had to make it super obvious huh head in hands

Yippey (running around in circles I love yapping and getting big asks).

Personally with shipping and media enjoyment, I'm very much the guy who is like "these are my OCs now" and I will enjoy things regardless of how I feel about the canon materials. I don't care about 'canon proof' for ships and for most scenarios, I don't think canon should be used to dissuade a person from shipping either. Obviously there's gonna be things that makes me think you're weird, but things like self-insert/canonxoc is cool and that will Never have any basis in canon material anyway. So like. Take the limiters off and reach for the sky.

As for the Neuvillette-and-melusines thing, yeah. I think it's weird that they made it specifically about Wriothesley. In general, how they portrayed Wriothesley always irks me, because they make his entire characterisation around how he 'overcame' his past because he's just a special guy who, instead of complaining about the shit hands he's dealt, accepted his sentence gracefully and pulled himself up by his bootstraps and got to where he is because he's strong and crafty. Wriothesley doesn't actually value these traits (he thinks of himself as just some guy), but everyone around him considers him 'special' because he's able to network and rally people and make a name for himself in Meropide.

That would have made for a more interesting narrative if they actually did something with it and really show some actual conflict between his view of himself and how the public sees him, but now, as it read to me, it just reeks of individual exceptionalism. He's successful because he has that capitalist mindset in him lol. Wriothesley becomes Fontaine's idealised "rags to riches" story. Then, not only is he extraordinary, he also is 'humble' about it. "You don't know you're beautiful/That's what makes you beautiful" moment lmao.

With Neuvillette, had they actually shown that he's ill-equipped to do his job as someone who struggles to relate to his subjects, I would have been like, yippee! Cool! Like I have reworked his story and characterisation to work in my mind to an embarrassing extent, and I whole-heartedly think it can be done with the premise they have set up for him. He could be complacent because he's never actually been allowed to step into the backstreets, because from the moment he stepped foot in Fontaine he's been treated as the upperclass, even when the Melusines were going through their fantasy racism shit. He's never had to fear for his life, or wonder when his next meal is. He gets water imported from all across the world, when people in the Fleuve Cendre/Meropide/Poisson probably struggles to get good plumbing and clean water.

And Focalors kept him there. He's very intentionally isolated so he can serve in her grand plan. It could also be an empathy issue, right, he can see people starve and think, cognitively, that it's just how the world is. That's just how humans are. You can really lean onto the Otherness of Neuvillette and portray him even as a overwhelmingly large, eldritch cryptid, who's trying to keep an ant colony alive simply because he likes ants. But he doesn't understand them, and because of that, he lets them die purely by accident most of the time. And he feels bad for it!

But I think the problem with it is that Genshin can't......... commit, and they can't stay consistent. They can't say he's powerless because Focalors is pulling the strings, or because of his own ineptitude, because they want Focalors to be sympathetic, and they want to say Neuvillette is cool and powerful. Like he has canonically enforced judicial changes. He essentially set up anti-discrimination laws for the Melusines. He's fully capable to. But now, because MHY forgot about that, now it seems like he only makes changes when it affects him and those he cares about, and not the hundreds and thousands of children who died due to poverty and incarceration in his time as Iudex. Then the whole thing with how he's able to pull strings to Get the Traveller into prison, but you tell me he can't... I dunno, fudge the verdict a little every once in a while? When he has to sentence a child to prison???

And obviously, these inconsistencies aren't intentional, because if you try to rationalise them, Neuvillette would end up looking like a weirdo bigot who only cares about one specific species and took a specific liking to one minor for no discernible reason. And he's not meant to be seen as that. The Melusines lore was meant to show that he cares about them. The Wriothesley lore is also meant to show that he cares about this poor starving kid. MHY just forgor there's many other starving kids in Fontaine.

His whole character hinges on the fact that underneath his cold impartiality is a guy who has a bleeding heart, who literally cries all the damn time. That's his Core Concept. MHY just sucked at writing it because........ writing teams aren't talking to each other.

Like, once people realised a lot of characterisation debates in genshin fandom can be answered with "MHY is just shit at their job", half of the complaints would be redirected to the fucking company instead of the characters/shippers lmao. Like, Lanoire. Wriothesley would have never allowed her to keep living like that. Now if you try to rationalise that whole quest, you have to think "maybe Wriothesley doesn't care all that much" or "maybe he doesn't know Meropide as well as he does," both of which contradicts canon facts about him. Because he has eyes everywhere (and even if he doesn't, his guards would 100% just tell him instead of just trying to sneak the kid out, because they canonically get Rewarded for shit like that). And he, canonically, cares about people's quality of life and safety in Meropide. He'd hate to have something like this fall under his nose.

So yeah yippee. I mean, I will keep drawing art and writing wrlt, obviously. I don't gotta explain that to anyone else. I think I know better than MHY /lh

[twig-tea]

For the BL trope ask game: 8, 9 and 10

Whew, coming out swinging! Ok here we go.

8. May/December

There really are not a lot of these where the age gap is truly significant. My actual favourite BL couple with an age gap where their ages are part of the conflict they face is The Pornographer/The Novelist though I acknowledge their age gap is probably not enough to fully be considered May/December. Rio becoming a mentor for Haruhiko does add to the May/December aspects so I'm just going to commit lol.

The concerns around their age gap came up in the sequel short more than the original series, but they definitely started their relationship in the original series at different life stages and it was one of the things that caused Rio to run from Haruhiko in the first place. To my memory there are some funny reversals in this one because Haruhiko gets his life together faster than Rio does but that means even as Haruhiko gets older they remain at different life stages and it continues to be a source of conflict.

Also just going to say, for anyone looking for old man yaoi, there is also a bonus fantasy/nightmare imagination scenario that Haruhiko pictures between Rio and his mentor that takes place in Continued Spring Life (though I would not call Rio's relationship with his mentor a romance!).

[NGL my favourite truly May/December romancecin BL is Choko and Maru from Ossan's Love and Ossan's Love Returns in which Choko is older than Maru's mother and it is a major source of conflict between her and her new mother in law until they find common ground.]

9. Fake Dating

I know I'm pretty alone in this, but YYY is one of my faves and it is actually a perfect example of the fake dating trope. For those who never saw this show, the central plot is that Nott and Pun are pretending to date in order to be allowed to stay in their apartment (the landlord loves BL). There are constant misunderstandings, pining, and it's compounded by the fact that one is also in a BGP with a different guy. There are real stakes tied to their fake dating, and the faking of the relationship becomes painful to the point that they become willing to risk those stakes (getting kicked out) rather than continuing to fake it. This show is absolutely wild and a LOT of nonsense happens, but the core is a pretty standard execution of this trope! And I love it a lot.

10. Bodyguard

I'm going to include censored projects in this because my ultimate favourite in this trope is Sleuth of Ming Dynasty. Zhou is at points of the story assigned to be a literal guard for Tang Fan, but he also just does it anyway off the clock because that's who he is. This show, to my mind, hits all of the important beats related to a bodyguard tripe including the person being protected balking at the protection and sacrificing himself so that his protector is not hurt (as well as at other times and being entirely blasé about his own safety because he trusted Zhou to protect him and had full faith he would).

Link to the original ask game post!

[hoppity-scotch]

🔶Connor Info🔶

Name: Connor Age: 28 (October 25th) Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Pansexual Height: 187.96 cm (6’2 feet) Occupation: Murderer Butcher

🔶Likes🔶

🌟 Not only does Connor love to cook it is one of his love languages, he’s no Michelin star chef but has had a good few years cooking for himself and others. Despite his interest in cooking it wasn’t by choice, in his youth he was forced into the role of cooking due to his mother falling ill. At first he hated it, as his father always told him cooking was wife’s work but eventually, once he started to perfect his craft, began to love it. 

🌟 Connor loves the outdoors such as camping or hunting as it was the few good times he had with his father. Loves to just watch animals in their natural habitat as well as enjoying the quietness of being away from a bustling city.  He’s fairly efficient navigating the wilderness and almost never gets lost, his father was an excellent explorer and learned a lot from him.  

🌟 Will never admit it to anyone but loves to watch animated TV shows and films, from Gravity Falls to Studio Ghibli. Couldn’t express a lot of emotion and creativity as a child and would often live through these desires by watching TV. Getting invested with the story and characters while also judging the writing and plot holes are just a few reasons why he loves animation.  

🌟 Connor is a total nerd for Geology, loves to collect different rocks and minerals he can find, used to find a whole bunch when he went camping that he’d keep in a box under his bed. You’ll be able to catch a whole heap of Geology books in his room as well as a shelf of all his favorite rocks, some of them are: Watermelon Quartz, Obsidian, Tanzanite, Benitoite, and smooth rocks (for stone skipping). 

🌟 Frequently goes to the boxing ring in town to train and keep up his physique, it’s important as being a butcher requires carrying a lot of weight around. It also allows him to get a lot of frustration out, he’s been known to go overboard at the ring and has been suspended a few times for almost beating others too hard. 

🌟 Absolutely adores spicy food, no level of spice can stop this man. He enjoys a lot of curries and soup dishes, anything that's hearty with a kick to it. On the other hand, he has the biggest sweet tooth, cookies and cakes are his favorite. Surprisingly, Connor is on the fence about ice cream, even though it’s delicious, he often gets terrible brain freezes.

🔶Dislikes🔶

💢 Connor is prone to hating strong smells due to him having a strong nose. He tends to get dizzy if he’s around scented candles, diffusers or even storing perfumes. This is why he prefers unscented soaps when cleaning and will often wear natural scents like white rose, sandalwood and vanilla.

💢 Connor often has earbuds in when going to places that have a noisy atmosphere like shopping malls, restaurants, even just walking by heavy traffic on the street. On top of his sense of smell, he has sensitive hearing and can become overwhelmed when met with sudden, intense sounds. He hates fireworks and lightning most of all, no matter how pretty they can be, it tears through his eardrums like a knife. 

💢 With every fiber of his body, Connor absolutely hates 2000’s comedy films, not all of them mind you, but the really immature and obnoxious ones. It always rubbed him the wrong way how movies use cheap jokes to try and get the audience to laugh,  he would always roll his eyes whenever those movies showed up on TV.

💢 Spring is supposed to be the month of rebirth and love, a time for the flowers to bloom and for the sun to shine. For Connor, it’s the season from hell, where all the bugs come back to life and pollen spreads like a sickness. He gets terrible hayfever and the constant smells from all the flowers makes him want to faint, and prefers to stay inside during this time. 

💢 Despite looking like he never sleeps, he doesn’t drink a lot of coffee. Connor actually hates anything that is bitter and bland, green tea, peppermint, vinegar are a few foods that make his stomach churn in disgust. If someone he cared about made him a bitter dish, he would eat it in a heartbeat, as he’d never turn down a loved one's dish. In saying that, please, don’t give him too much, eventually he’ll have to throw up. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Here is some information about my yandere OC! I may or may not change some details down the tract as he still is a work in progress, but I am liking how his character is so far (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ.

[worlds-4th-best-dad]

what made u want to become a policeman?

Heh, well ain't this a funny sight? Just a few weeks ago, I helped conduct a seminar on stranger danger at a local preschool and some of the kids asked the same thing.

Given that you ain't your average five-year-old, I'll fill you in on more details on my road to the force than the sugar-coated one I handed out to them kids.

Well, that's what I would've done if Tumblr hadn't crashed multiple times before I finished it...

And I worked so hard to go into detail too...

Well, anyway, a summarized version it is then.

I really wanted to buy a Gundam model when I was a kid. I earned and saved my allowance into a piggy bank, but it wasn't enough.

I felt cheated and angry so I stole the toy from the store and ran home with it.

I showed it to my mom, who made my dad come over from his paper to see it.

Dad was happy for a bit, before asking questions and ordering me to see the piggy bank.

Dad figured out that I stole it when he felt the bank was full of money and proceeded to beat a lesson into me.

The only reason I didn't get beaten into a fine pulp was my mom breaking the heavy piggy bank over my dad's head and immediately rushing me to the hospital.

Ever since then, my mom was protective of me and my dad slowly distanced himself from us.

His distancing then turned into absences that began with a single day and turning into multiple weeks.

Me and my mom found out that my dad was never coming home when a police officer came over to our house to say that my dad died on the streets.

Apparently, his absences was for his petty theft spree since he lost his job and the money for the family was running dry.

And that's about it. Honestly, looking back on this, I really put a lot of detail in my story that could've been shorter. Can't blame a man from trying, I guess.

Anyway, the important parts of this story that made me want to become a policeman was when my dad beat me till I was black and blue and my mom saving me from entering the Pearly Gates early. I'm sure you understand what I'm trying to tell you at this point, but I'll still say it regardless.

When I was on the floor, bracing my little body from the blows from my dad, that's when I truly felt like my entire world crumbling before me. I felt many things during that harrowing experience. A lot of pain, obviously, but I also felt so small, like I can be blown away in a gust of wind. Yet, I wanted that, an escape from the ruins of my world. To get away from being the poor fool who got caught in the crossfire at the battleground that was once home.

And yet, when I thought I was done for, I heard a smash in the numbing silence and the tinkling of hope. The next thing I knew, the punches stopped and I was being carried off to who knows where before I passed out from the pain.

When I finally woke up from the pain, I was lying in a hospital bed in the Sakurami City General Hospital. My mom wasn't in the room with me, but when I rustled around the bed to get comfortable, she bursted from the door and immediately hugged me, tears in my eyes, and told me that everything was over and no one was going to hurt me anymore.

It was at that moment I knew what I wanted to be. I wanted to be someone like my mom, who risked getting herself beat up to save someone like me, a petty thief in dire need, from people like my dad, who didn't hesitate to become violent at the drop of a hat. After asking my teacher if there was a kind of job like that, they told me that sounds similar to a police officer and the rest was history.

Sorry, for the long story, but I had to get a lot of it out for you to get the full picture.

I hope my answer satisfied your question, Reisuke.

[yanderefairyangel]

Engage's villain deep dive : Rafal, depressive atoning dragon

Oh boi, do you'all actually hate me or ... ? anyways, let's break him down.

But because of rules, spoliers ahead !!!

Rafal is one of the other Sombron/Xenobron's child and possibly an alternate version to one of Alear's half sibling in Elyos (though it's a bit of a touchy subject) , even if in this world he isn't family to his Alear.

Like all of Xenobron's children, he had a twin but this twin died a long time ago and when he was too young to remember so he was the only Fell child to be all alone in an environnement surronded by pair of twins. He became friends with his half brother, Nil, whom he strangely ressembled a whole lot. But during the parralel war of 1 000 Nil died in a battle and Rafal switched his place with him, making believe he died as he promised dying Nil to watch over Nel and that's what happenend, 1 000 years of assuming Nil's identity. One day, Xenobron noticed he was able to awake Emblems and approached him, promising him that he would become his heir and additionally, took advantage of this to curse the dragonstone he shared with Nel. Then once Altlear and Xenobron killed each other, operation ressurection of Papabron began and then it unpacks with the whole Fell xenologue events until Nel dies to save him and him, remorseful ends up a ressurection session like Lumimi did with Alear until she woke up 1 000 as atonement and the two move in our Elyos.

Alright, let's begin

1- Rafal is a shetty written villain/forced antagonist

If you want to explain Engage's internal writing problem, Rafal is probably an empitome for it. While his support proves him to be an excellent character, the DLC story is so lame that he is forced to be the antagonist although his motivations barely makes him one. Not to excuse his actions (since he himself refuse it) but it's probably because he is such a sheety villain he works so well as a redeeming one cause if there is one thing you can give him is that 1) he is actually a threat in the DLC (brrr;;;;; map 5) and also 2) he is a well written character when HE IS ALLOWED TO BE HIMSELF but we'll go through it once I am done explaining the crime he commited.

According to the devs and his support with Ivy, he didn't killed everyone but only 1) The royals to turn them into Corrupted, the only consenting victims being Ivyalt

And he also admitted to have killed all his remaining siblings

And he ... well cause Nel to die but she came back so... does that count ? idk

One thing for sure, he did a lot of awful thing he himself is ashamed of and once you beat the sheet out of him, he goes on redemption arc

Now one thing a lot of people wondered is : isn"t it a bit easy that Alear forgives him like this when he say stuff like that ?

Well, let's find out !

2- Rafal's way of speech.

Ok, so there's something important about this guy when we speaks of transalation. The localization tended to make him seems more arrogant in the eng compared to the jpn version because the jpn version can use prounons to convey Rafal's arrogance whereas the eng version has to rely on a choice of words rather snobbish in order to make him seem haughty. You probably had noticed that Y.Chang switches between two tones to signify that he is Nil or Rafal. Well, Takuya Eguchi does the same, but he also swtiches prounons. I really wished I could share the audio of the JPN dub but tumblr won't let me so I'll just link two video so you can compare how he speaks differently when he is Nil and when is Rafal.

When Rafal speaks as Nil, he uses boku/僕 i kanji form to showcase it's an adult man speaking as opposed to young boys who either uses katakana or hiragana, which is Nil's case when we see the recollections flashbacks as he speaks entirely in hiragana. Boku is considered to be a masculine way of saying I but is less informal or viritliy assertive as ore/俺 which is used by both Gregory and Griss, it is also considered to be a form used by character with a kind temparement so Rafal uses it whenever he speaks to impersonnates Nil due to wanting to fit with Nil's kind nature.

However, when Rafal speaks as himself, he uses ware/我 which is a peculiar case when speaking of japanese pronouns. It's an archaic form of refering to one self since it's more common in old japanese and it's use is more literary if anything, but to be fair, japanses in anime and video games and sons is drastically different then japanese spoken in real life. Regardless, it's a form that is often used by character who consider themselves important due to either being 1 000 year old or having the statuts of a royalitie or a kami. Rafal being a proud character, there is nothing surprising as him using prounons that makes him looks arrogant. However... guess what ? Sombron uses the same prounons as Rafal. Yep.

And that's not all. If you compare Rafal's way of speaking using a lot of "zo" and "ga", to Sombron's, you'll realize that Rafal speaks the exact same way as Sombron. The way someone speaks is a reflection of his own mind and apprehension of the world. When i said : "when HE IS ALLOWED TO BE HIMSELF" I am refering to the fact that in the whole Fell Xenologue he plays 2 role, and his speech reflects that. During the great portion of the Fell Xenologue plot he pretends to be Nil like he did for 1 000 years. But he also wasn't being himself during the second part and begining of the DLC since he was possesed/cursed (literaly this time) and because of this... he really does speak like Sombron

Doesn't that remind you of someone ? And while Sombron and Xenobron are different person and that they might have different objective, they still speak in a similar manner hence there is nothing surprising as Rafal saying things that are similar to our Sombron even if he isn't his actual dad but just the alternate version (please bear with me ? ik that the Fell Xenologue's plot is downright stopid but hey). Rafal is definitely emulating his father and in the game, it is portrayed as being due to Sombron's curse.

In the game during those scenes, he has the animation showing him bowing, like for when Veyle switched her personailty.

Alright, not to be that "JPN dub is superior to ENG dub" person because 1) it's false, 3H and Engage gave us impressive VA and Y.Chang is doing an amazing job but.... can we talk about how in this scene Takuya Eguchi looks like he is at the verge of his life ? I am serious, his acting makes Rafal's possesion sounds even more obvious then in the JPN dub . Not to mention, that the localization sorta missed the point because in the jpn he says "My chest hurts, always, always !!"

Yep you guessed it, that's why his chest hurts.

The fact that he speaks like Sombron, bore HIS wishes rather then his own, that even the dragon form he had looked quite similar to that of Sombron as opposed as his regular Fell Dragon form more alike to Nel shows that he is indeed under Sombron's influence, even more then the simple case of possesion

3- Possesion as a metaphor

Look, I am not saying that Fe is the kind of series where I expect the writer to use "possesion" as a symbolic device rather then a way to explain why they force a traumatized kid to be a forced antagonist and other then an obvious trope beloved by Kaga except instead of another damsel in distress, it's a pretty boi. (#RafalistheLyonarchetypeofEngage) However with the elements I mentionned earlier, it's obvious that the Sombron's spell goes along to show how a victim of parental abuse can be robbed of their agency and ends up interiozing and emphazing with their abusers, and in the case of Rafal, he is like Veyle since his long lasting abuse, inferiority complex, self validation issues and lack of love lead him to feel alone. Must I remind you that once he lost his twin he was all alone for a long time in an environnement consistuting in Fell children comploting against one another, making him an easy prey and he like Nil was traited as a failure except that Nil followed pretty much the same thing as Alcryst that is to say that his belief in being weak, he accepted it as truth and was rather self depricating, whereas Rafal never wanted to accept it and as a result, sought to prove his worth in return for a proof of acknowledgment. Like I mentionned in my Zephia dive about Sombron sharing his definition of family was like a "curse" that sealed Zephia's fate, Sombron telling Rafal how he would be a suitable heir for him was the curse as it was the proof of worth, the acknowledgement he was desesperately seeking for and even Nel's love wasn't enough because ...

4- Rafal has identity crisis and syndrome of the imposter

Must I remind you that Nil died when he was a CHILD. This means Rafal had to see his brother and only friend died when he was CHILD but that he accepted to remplace him as a CHILD. He cast away his identity when he was still a CHILD. He accepted to be someone he wasn't when he was a CHILD. Do I keep going on or is it clear ? If you recall, he said "I made belived I was the one who died that day, I was in a way". And why ? 1000 of acting as someone you aren't, this might make you ask thousand of existential question; and this happening at the time he was still a kid, a person in a process of building his identity. But that's only the tip of the iceberg, really. The real problem, the reason why he couldn't accept Nel's love is RIGHT THERE

The reason why Rafal cherished and hate his time at Lythos at the same time is so obvious. The reason why he feel like Nel's love isn't for him is also obvious. Because he isn't Nil. Sure, he is Nel's half sibling, but he isn't her twin brother, her one true half, the one she cherished and wished to protect, the one for whom she betrayed her own Father even though it may have ended her life. All she did, was out of love but nor for him as Rafal but for Nil, her dead brother. And even though Rafal promised Nil to protect Nel and made her happy and even then wished for her happines since he came to think of her as her true neesan, he can't help but feel guilty because "It should be Nil not me who has that" is exactly what he means by "that treasure is a stolen one" even if it was Nil's dying wish. His inner self hatred, validation issue and so on and so on cannot make him feel like he deserves Nel's love since it's directed to someone else. He knows that when Nel looks at him, she doesn't see Rafal, but Nil. She doesn't see him as who he is and he doesn't have the right to be himself, not for Nil's sake, he can't be loved for he is because he has to pretend to be someone else. Which hurts even more as Nel, the person he love most doesn't acknowledge his existence since she think he is Nil. So of course, even with Nel to protect him and love him, in truth, he never felt more alone because he felt like she never saw him, which made him even more vulnerable to Sombron's machination and worsen his wanting to prove his worth. Because (yes I know it's not Xenobron, it's our Sombron but point still stand)

If you remember what I said commenting it, our Sombron knew that his children were feared and hated and entirely dependent of him. The situation in XenElyos being not so different (*cough, cough, the Firenalt sibling and other clearly having hostility to the Fell twins cough*) with whatsmore siblings hating each other and ready to stab each other's back and him feeling even more inferior due to knowing he will never be loved like Nil is and that each of Nel's gesture are actually directed at Nil made him even more dependent of his abuser. What'smore, remember Wounded Pride ? His personal skill ? Well, remember that even if he had this skill only when he was pretending to be Nil... it still representative of Rafal as a whole since his own pride got wonded many times. And this is because of this that he was under Sombron's influence on two level 1) the possesion spell 2) his emulation of Sombron. It's also quite the deal that the word Sombron told him as he was casting this spell on his chest makes it happen at the same moment, hence renforcing the impression that the possesion is here to show that it's not only because of the spell he is under Sombron's influence, but also because of all he's been through, Sombron's shadow still soar over him and the possession spells can hence be seen on a double level. He almost BECOME Sombron, having the same wish, same speech, same freaking dragon appearance. Even if he still had some of his agency and that unlike Veyle he doesn't got "what happened o - o ?" once the spell is broken, he was still essentially under Sombron's influence

5- Nel's breaking the spell on 2 level

Alright, if you recall to break the spell Nel had to break her own dragonstone which can only break because... she dies.

Ok now, remember all that I said about Rafal wanting someone to acknowledge his existence and all i said about how he gave up on Nel being this person. Well, Nel's sacrifice broke the spell AND on a second level definitely freed Rafal from Sombron's influence because this was literaly the biggest act that one could do for him. What's more Nel revealing that she always knew his real identity (andthusmakingeverythingthathappenedfallflatsaidshewithrepressedanger) made Rafal realized that all of Nel's kind gesture towards him were really genuinely for HIM and not directed at a Nil whose sister and identity he stole according to him, that Nel was seeing him and acknowledge his existence, that she always returned the love he gave her. All of this was enough to make Rafal realized he don't need Sombron cause remember what he said when he lost ? "If i can't carry out father's ambitions, I am useless". What's more;... he always had suicidal tendencies

He wanted Nel, the person he loves most, his sister to end his life. In truth, what he truly wanted was Nel's love but he still felt like he didn't deserved it because he is an impostor, he stole Nil's sister, he stole what belong to him etc.

That's the face he made as he though Nel was going to kill him. FREAKING SMILING. Dear God.

But Nel dying to free him from Sombron's influence made him realized he was indeed loved (Nelisbestgirldon't@ me); This made him come back to his sense when he could have gone as far has literaly becoming his dad and like I mentionned we saw him as both Nil and Evil Nil/Sombron 3.0 hence the actual reason why the DLC failed his characterization (unti the snap moment) is because he wasn't being himself in literaly all sense until Nel's stabbed herself, until he snapped. I mean remember whe first saw him as Nil, then as whatever creepy face he made in the nigthmare that is map 5 and even as he spoke to Nel we don't see his actual face, he is shown from behind, eyes closed, and then the spells begin to strike back until Alear pops up and we see his damaged face

Part 2 to see more

[bklynmusicnerd]

They really did segregation today segregation tomorrow on this episode. They really separated Trina and all the other black characters at home while everyone else was at Wyndemere for the repass. They also had the audacity to have Esme have a grave in the same cemetery as Spencer and had Liz of all people grieving her?!? Had Trina and Cam interact for like 1 minute but the rest of the episode he and Joss were sharing memories instead of all three of them?!? Trina had 30 second scenes, but the rest of the family, who didn’t give a fuck about him, had more scenes. Spencer’s funeral wasn’t even the focus because it went right back to Sonny and his shit and Gregory/Finn’s shit😑

Yeah I just got done watching it and I'm disappointed at all the missed opportunities that are occurring but I'm not surprised. Before I get into it, I wanna credit TA again for playing the physicality of Trina's grief/depression so consistently. Grief isn't always loud tears. Losing someone is exhausting. It makes you weary. And as much as the script is falling short, TA's acting isn't. That's what's making the storytelling choices so frustrating.

C&D allowing Lucky Gold on breakdown (who is also credited on the infamous cabin episode) and Kate Hall on script to effectively disappear the black mourners once the memorial moved to Wyndemere is a pretty egregious legacy to leave behind. Again, this racial segregation in the storytelling is not just bad optics, IT'S BAD STORYTELLING. Emotional beats were missed because of this idea that Trina's family and Spencer's family cannot interact for longer than two minutes.

The problem isn't the writing for Trina's depression. It actually makes total sense for her character and the way she carries the weight of the world on her shoulders, to perceive Spencer's death as a personal failure of hers and punish herself for it. The problem is there's no way Cam, Joss and Ava wouldn't be spending a lot of that time at Wyndemere concerned about Trina? I mean, they had Laura, Joss, and Cam looking at this scrapbook of Spencer pictures that Nik allegedly collected and the majority of them feature Trina.

It actually looked insane how hard they had to work to give these people dialogue discussing Spencer's journey that didn't mention Trina. Honestly the fact that they prioritized punishing Nik over that Esme bullshit so much that he wasn't even allowed to attend his son's fake funeral is a testament to how badly they're handling this presumed death arc.

Even the eulogy that Alexis gave made me laugh because she said something about how in the blink of an eye he became this confident young man who took responsibility for his choices. Uh, yeah, no, Spencer came back to town a bitter and angry young man who was stunted emotionally. Trina entering his life is what inspired Spencer to become the man that Alexis described. And Spencer himself said that many, many times.

Yes, he admired Cam and wanted to be like him, but those two didn't really bond until Spencer needed someone to confide in about his stupid hero plan to save Trina. It's the only reason Cam stood by him. The HS trio should have been the emotional center of this memorial. Instead, Spencer's family honored him by barely acknowledging the girl he loved so much he "died" for her. Because the writers decided maintaining their Generally White Hospital tradition (thank you to VA for that fitting title) was more important.

Trina and Spencer's story (and the sheer buzz around it) should be inspiring an integration of the canvas. Instead, it's being told poorly so they can enforce some pretty archaic storytelling politics. I really hope PM brings an end to that shit because it genuinely does mess up the flow of the story, disregards existing relationships and makes me uncomfortable when it comes to watching this soap.

There are shows from the sixties that aren't as strictly racially segregated as GH was today. I shouldn't even have to explain why that's not sustainable for a show trying to carve a future for itself. The writing culture under C&D's leadership was truly fucked up.

That said, this would have been a much stronger episode if we had SP or CG on script. They keep assigning these key aftermath episodes to writers who are clearly not comfortable writing long or in-depth pov for Trina. It's a poor choice, especially when we know it's a fake death and Trina is going to be key to his return. It's just unforced error after unforced error and that is why you don't see anyone seriously mourning the loss of C&D.

[jumpscaregoose]

x laws propaganda time

alright this is the big one buckle in nerds

@ungodly-amounts-of-godly-trauma poll crash course in x laws and also lyserg diethel. all encompassing longpost, tangents included

this is probably going to be too monolithic to work as propaganda but I can do what I want

(read more for courtesy because. abomination)

we’ll begin with some light housekeeping!

Shaman King 101 real quick for those unaware: shamans are people who can see and communicate with ghosts and spirits. every 500 years there’s a big tournament to decide who gets the biggest, bestest spirit, the Great Spirit. there are two versions of SK, 2001 (a heavily manga divergent anime adaptation considered to be better on both nostalgia and writing principles) and the 2021/manga version (written by this guy hiroyuki takei who’s really not the best at writing plots and tends to forget important details. this one’s his intent for better or worse and is more canon).

IMPORTANT TERMS (that I use here but forgot to explain first oops)

spirit ally: a shaman’s primary spirit they use for combat and various tasks

over soul: putting a spirit into a physical medium to allow them to interact with the living world

mana/furyoku: interchangable english and japanese terms for a shaman’s power level. can be measured numerically

shaman king: the person who has the great spirit as their spirit ally

the original shaman king manga was written by a man named hiroyuki takei. takei is. certainly a writer ever. he’s very good at writing fun characters and character dynamics. he character designs and art are very nice (when he’s not being stupid with them. there are some CHOICES). he is very bad at most other things. like remembering timelines and plot details. or research. I will be referring to him occasionally

my area of expertise is the manga version, so assume anything I mention is from that one unless otherwise stated (most general statements do apply to both). HOWEVER, there are some x laws related things that are SIGNIFICANTLY DIFFERENT (more traumatic) in 2001, and I will bring those up as well.

the main antagonist is this guy hao, an onmyoji from 1000 years ago who reincarnated himself to become god (the shaman king). also btw an onmoyji is a type of spiritual leader person who practiced the traditional chinese wuxing (five element) concept, that’s important later. the main protagonist is his twin brother/split part of his soul yoh. they’re really interesting but not the point of this post so 

enter lyserg diethel, blorbo no. 1 for this poll (I highly recoommend starting to type his name into your search engine and clicking on the first chemical looking thing that comes up in autocomplete. I could just tell you but it’s way funnier if you find this out how I did)

when we meet lyserg he’s 14 years old (I think. the SK timeline is very broken around this part of the story and dates can vary by a couple years) and he’s joined the shaman fight (big plot tournament) to get revenge on hao, who killed his parents and burned his house down when he was 6. also he’s british, uses dowsing with a pendulum, and his spirit ally is the fairy morphine (funny if you looked up the thing from before), who’s been his friend for his entire life (comes up in trauma later keep notes). he’s also frequently depicted with poppies in the manga (infuriating when combined with the name thing and morphine. why. why is he named that. why he not opioid. this makes me so irrationally upset). lyserg meets the protagonist gang (yoh, this gay emo kid, gay emo kid’s shonen rival boyfriend, and this other guy with a hilarious running gag of summoning this guy billy with magic hitchhiking powers all the time in 2001. it’s implied hitchhiking guy and billy make out once. this show is insane). lyserg’s goal at this point is to find strong allies to beat hao, so he tries to invoke the let’s-fight-to-become-friends trope and it does work but not until he gets decked in the face for being an idiot and pays for everyone’s hospital bills. which are a thing because btw everyone got dropped out of a plane into new mexico breaking bad style for a tournament test.

while journeying with the protagonist gang, they encounter one of hao’s minions, a man named boris tepes dracula. boris is able to use his spirit ally to possess people and temporarily turn them into his vampire minions. the concept of becoming a servant to hao is so horrific to lyserg that, in the 2001 version, he begs yoh to kill him if he ever becomes one. with 100% sincerity. spoiler alert he does at one point, does not get killed, and is confused. this is also when the main event of this poll shows up.

X LAWS BACKSTORY INTERLUDE!

back in the day there were these two dudes luchist and marco lasso. marco was an orphan who grew up at luchist’s family orphanage and they had a very close paternal relationship. so close that they founded an independent supercar dealership together. enter hao, here to find minions for the shaman fight in what was at this point probably about 10 years! arson and murder! the car dealership and orphanage get burnt down, and luchist and marco swear lifelong vengeance on a kid who couldn’t have been more than 5 years old and form the x laws. they gather more people who also think a small child is the ultimate evil, including… who’s that? our next competitor!

iron maiden jeanne, blorbo no. 2 for this poll!

jeanne was a young orphan girl on the streets of mont saint michel in france (my high school functions teacher claimed to have almost drowned in quicksand there writing his name during low tide), that marco and luchist picked to become their ultimate weapon and convinced her she was sent from god to defeat hao. key point here: iron maiden jeanne is genuinely just some random little girl, no divine connection beyond that of the average shaman of her power level. and about that power level. manga/2021 shaman king has this weird little detail, where if a shaman dies or is gravely injured, their numerical power level (I’m glad 2001 only brought in numbers to surprise us with hao’s strength later on, because aaaaaaa) will increase drastically. the x laws exploit this system by having jeanne swear and oath on an iron maiden (the fake medieval torture device, not the band) and stay inside it almost 24/7. real spikes, too. blood pours out of it during her introduction.

being so close to death for probably half her life has given her immense power, and her spirit ally is shamash, the god/spirit who… issued the first laws to the babylonians in mesopotamia? wasn’t the x laws supposed to be a catholic thing?

don’t. worry. about it. normal Takei things.

real quick on religious imagery: the x laws’ over souls are “angels” these robot things (think eva unit but #aesthetic #angelcore or whatever) that they activate by shooting guns. can range from small handguns to bazookas. the second ed of the 2021 anime is also this:

take it as you will (I love the 2021 eds so much btw, my favourite pieces of shaman king animation. ed 1 for the win)

jeanne’s over souls are all also medieval torture devices (of various levels of accuracy), for example guillotines, gibbets, and the statue of apega

(also, when I say “god” in this, unless I’m referring to hao, the great spirit, or winning the shaman fight, I just mean a powerful spirit ally. it’s weird and confuses even me)

and while we’re talking about jeanne, she’s clearly named after joan d'arc, the revolutionary who heard visions from the archangel micheal on mont saint michel. jeanne wholeheartedly believes she was sent by god to defeat hao, and in the x laws’ twisted views of justice

all those who stand in their way are irredeemable sinners who deserve their gruesome deaths. the x laws are justice incarnate. hao is the ultimate evil who must be defeated at all costs (hao is spotted doing such things as. hanging out with his adoptive little sister/daughter on top of big rocks. engaging in polite conversation with his brother at coffee shops and hot springs. eating a baguette at their match. taunting his brother’s fiancée over a book)

returning to the timeline, the x laws appear and immediately kill boris (turn him into actual dust and all). resident good boy yoh and the other protagonist guys are obviously icked out, because they’d just shonen battled boris, learned his tragic backstory, and taken him out as a threat. lyserg, however, is entranced by the x laws and their gun angel robots… gun angels… angels with…

no…

*I am pulled away from my computer and executed by the comedy police*

anyways, this is the start of a somewhat out of place shakespearean tragedy for our boy. is comparing hiroyuki goddamn takei to william shakespeare a stretch? yes. so much of a stretch. does it feel right in this case? also yes. this is the start of a beautiful, fascinating, deeply frustrating spiral (this character arc has made several people I know hate lyserg diethel at some point lol)

our guys make the final walk to their destination awkwardly walking behind the x laws, who are pissed they didn’t do a murder. eventually they separate and we randomly meet god in southwest colorado. god as in the great spirit in this case. some plot shit happens and lyserg ends up separated from the rest of the protagonist gang, and he wanders into the x laws. there’s this absolutely heartbreaking scene of lyserg, this young boy mourning his parents, crying into marco’s shoulder to ask him if, just maybe, the x laws can defeat hao. and because this is a cult he says yes.

the reveal of lyserg joining the x laws is another very nice and painful scene. it’s been heavily implied to have happened (see above) but had not yet been confirmed. it’s a really good scene but I think you can only really catch the ~Vibes~ by seeing it so

important context: the guy getting sliced was lyserg’s opponent in an officially sanctioned tournament match, where you absolutely do NOT have to kill people. this is after around 3 months of being with the x laws (in the dumb manga timeline. holy shit I hate the manga timeline. in 2001 it’s different, I think it’s even less time)

so, in roughly 3 months with this group, our boy went from “standard anime revenge plot” to “actual cult member. who will kill people”. like he was fucked up before but not in a godly way. also there’s more fucked up now.

real quick jeanne thing. in the manga, most of the x laws get killed by hao (either in a tournament or while shooting a giant space laser at him, setting off a criminally underutilized subplot). some more shit happens, and jeanne ends up discovering that she’s not sent from god, but just and ordinary girl. she is surprisingly unfazed by this. I blame takei

the 2001 and manga versions both have a mutually exclusive godly fucked up thing about them so we’ll be going over those after a quick word from our sponsor: child abuse! yeah lyserg gets slapped around a lot. for not being 100% murder cult 100% of the time. it’s fucked up in a godly way yeah.

in the 2001 version, the spiral is even worse, including lyserg abandoning morphine (best friend fairy who he had a whole filler episode getting back from some goons. that morphine). and he doesn’t really stop being culty and the worst until the very end. and he’s also a lot MORE culty and the worst. he straight up kidnaps someone to use them as bait in an elaborate plan to send hao’s soul to the shadowrealm called the Gate of Babylon, this thing that’ll send everyone in a small vicinities’ souls there. I’m gonna be honest I forgot the details and the wiki was really unhelpful but that’s the gist. he does eventually get less cultish in 2001 though.

in the manga lyserg goes to hell. this isn’t actually that weird for shaman king, I haven’t mentioned it yet but at this point in the manga death has kind of lost all meaning (this comes up with a jeanne thing later. do I need to touch on red crimson jeanne in here? not really. but I’m gonna. “world is mine” -hatsune miku). 4 other guys go to hell at the same time as him he isn’t special. BUT. the hells in shaman king are pretty clearly tied to past events of their beholder’s lives, or worries they might have. for example, a character who’s hometown was flooded when they were young goes to a flooded forest (for THREE PANELS. justice for the hororen hells). lyserg’s hell is london, what looks like some weird time dilated tudor/modern london crossover (or someone not knowing what london looks like). in weird london, lyserg is attacked by a demon he calls Mastema (who, according to my beloved wikipedia, is a fallen archangel and the personification of hatred) takei clearly did at least that much research for once, because Mastema follows lyserg wherever he goes and only attacks when he thinks of his parent’s deaths and his hatred for hao. at one point, he does this to try and defeat it…

…and immediately gets pummeled

now, I’m not entirely sure this was intentional, but like. becoming an “angel” to defeat something. and that doesn’t work. 2+2, people. he comes back from hell btw. death has no meaning and all

in 2021 there’s also this scene where yoh comes to visit lyserg (because he’s the goodest boy ever and is worried about his friend) and jeanne shows up to ask yoh to join the x laws. he refuses, and she immediately switches from hello friend join us to well. murder

and we should also probably talk about zeruel. zeruel, according to google and evangelion, means “arm of god”. zeruel is the angel lyserg recieves as part of the x laws (and who he ditches morphine for in 2001). zeruel itself isn’t really that relevant overall but I felt I had to bring it up. in the manga he uses zeruel (car form) and morphine to form his armoured over soul, mastema dolkeem (flames of enmity)

oh right

five warriors

is a thing

so

in the manga, they introduce this concept of the five warriors, each representing one element (annoyingly, not the actual wuxing elements but instead water, earth, fire, air, and lightning?). hao’s spirit ally throughout the series has been the spirit of fire (there are spirits for each element btw) so it’s poetic that lyserg gets the flames of enmity and fire, or something.

let’s talk about the impermance of death in shaman king real quick. for most of the second half of the manga, death has basically no meaning

oh shit I just realized I forgot to mention jeanne can resurrect the dead. she can do that btw

the death-has-no-meaning train gets started when jeanne brings this one emo guy who died for emo reasons back from the dead and it’s introduced as a concept. over the course of shaman king that emo guy dies. four times. the entire main cast has died at least once (we will get to that later). by the end there is no reason to leave someone dead at all, and doing so would be really fucking stupid. guess what happens to jeanne in red crimson (shaman king spinoff manga. also the best shaman king spinoff manga my beloved)? she dies. permanently

(this screenshot was apparently what broke the post? jeanne dying too powerful for tumblr?)

it’s an ok (?) ending to her character arc (and shows how fucked up she got from the whole child cult leader thing) but it irks me somehow (there’s also a scene in the manga after jeanne discovers she’s not sent from god where she refers to suicide as “there being no act more wicked”)

resurrect my girl

jeanne’s whole thing in red crimson annoys me to no end and if I went off about it here you wouldn’t believe that red crimson is Good Actually. so I won’t. but just know that the wasted potential is off the charts

and now, for what feels like a technicality to me: asakura hao kills everyone!

at the end of the manga, hao becomes god. he also proceeds to attempt his genocide of the human race and offs the entire main cast almost instantly. it is my favourite scene in shaman king ever and I love it dearly. what matters here is that both of our guys here got killed by god himself. that’s also godly trauma. the fact that THAT’S in a lil footnote shows how fucked up everything else is tbh

and uh that’s all I can think of for lyserg and jeanne religious trauma. if you’re curious just ask me somehow and I will be glad to infodump

but really you should just go shaman king (I recommend reading the manga first and then watching 2001. the reboot anime too if you really like the story but it’s just the manga but worse)

do it

there’s some bullshit and bad writing in there but it’s still pretty good (and stupid)

[talinhagangdibatid]

Dear Josielle of 2022,

You initiated a conversation with a random guy suggested by your bestfriend during the night when you felt most alone. It started on Octobed 16, 2022, and months after, you are still in contact with him. Not as much and as close as you did before, but it was something I would say for keeps, because you have helped one another to get through the flow of life these past few months.

I am unsure if you can call it as deep as love, but definitely it was something that make your heart pound everytime you interlock eyes with him, and it was something that makes you smile when you conversate with him. He mad you happy for a time being. He made you feel butterflies in your stomach. He made you feel sad. He made you want to cry. But most importantly, he made you experience the thing you have always doubted. He proved you wrong about your questions and criticisms on the genuinity of mediated relationships.

He left you with lessons you will carry with you forever. He made you realize that communicating exactly how and what you feel and want and desired, is an important factor in maintaining a good and healthy relationship. He made you lower your pride, something you have never done to and for any man before. He made you say sorry and be accountable with your actions. He made you to careless about what others will think, and allowed you to express yourself the way you wanted. He made you confident, bold, and fearless. And these are all of the things that you owe to the man whose life you bombarded, for good or for bad, i do not know, but i hope you have helped him the way he helped you with life.

You are interested in him, i am sure of it. You disregarded all of the things you promised yourself you'll never like in any man: someone who smokes, someone whose a heavy drinker, and someone who does illegal things. But here you found yourself blinded by all these, and has only regarded all the good things about him: his passion towards playing baseball, his motivation to become a better person everyday, and his inspiring story which moved you since then.

However, as much as how you wanted to pursue him. He said he is not ready. He said you are only friends. He said that he is fixing himself. He said that he is still moving on and forward from his previous relationship. Josielle, there is nothing wrong about his decision. Its a great one, for he is preparing for himself so when the time comes that love knocks on his door for the second time, he can easily let love come in.

So with that Josielle, I want you to know that you already did your part. This time, i assure you, you can never have any regrets with this man. You showered him with nothing but genuine love, affection, time, and effort, in all the days that you know him and yet he failed to return those you have invested in him. Perhaps because he was naive, or he wasn't really ready, or maybe because he is no longer interested. But regardless of the answer, I want you to officially move forward from this confusing situationship.

Take all the lessons by your heart, and apply it the next time your heart will beat for another man. But for the meantime, do yourself a favor. Respect yourself, allow peace to come at your life, and improve yourself everyday. You did nothing wrong, and he did nothing wrong too. To be honest, you did your best here and all that you can offer, it was just that you are not the right individual for him, or he was not the right man for you.

I love you Josielle, and I am so proud of you.