#censored because i will not speak his name

[snowfieldstories]

In Life and Death [Chapter 3]

Kim Dokja x Reader/Original female character

In Life and Death Masterlist

Warnings: strong violence and trauma, language

A/N: This beginning part was tough to nail down. I'll probably go back and revise because I'm not totally satisfied with it.

Summary:

In which a reader finds herself tossed into the pages of her favorite web novel after her untimely death. A novel of a novel within reality. It's a reader's dream, right? Well, this reader vows to bring the right epilogue to her beloved character, Kim Dokja. She will give him the happiest of endings. Or she will die trying.

⚠️MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ORV WEB NOVEL AND MANHWA!!!!⚠️

(Hahaha sorry about the gif but I have to laugh about it or I'll cry)

Episode III. Chapter 3 — A Ruined World: Round Two

Yoo Joonghyuk traveled at an awfully fast pace. We encountered a few frenzied ground rats, which we dealt with at once, and even more ground rat corpses further along.

My sword of light cast a dim glow in the tunnel. Joonghyuk, it seemed, felt no urgency to speak with me and forged ahead, leaving me with a delightful (read the sarcasm) view of his back.

The tracks continued on but our supposed conversation did not.

With this extra time to myself, I considered revealing that I was a fellow regressor. The possible benefits were surely worth it; we could collaborate over future plans more easily and prevent possible disaster. I led Dokja to believe that I wouldn't—but I wanted to let Joonghyuk know that he wasn't alone in this never-ending series of regressions. That somebody, anybody, had a small understanding of what he endured.

I remembered him. I knew this Yoo Joonghyuk, even if he didn't fully know himself.

We walked for a time with nothing to fill the silence except for the occasional scurrying of distant ground rats.

I swung the blade of light a few times and eyed Joonghyuk's back. I thought I could take him on if it came down to it. Sure, he would overpower me in the end, but I was much quicker and more agile than him with my 'Fleet Foot' skill. I could get away if he attacked. Maybe.

Sorry, Dokja. "I'm a regressor too."

After growing used to the rhythmic footsteps ahead of me, the sudden falter caused me to jerk back.

"I know."

What? My tense muscles loosened in shock. I had been expecting a sword through the chest, an anger, questions, or really anything but that.

"I used 'Sage's Eye' on you already."

Still... "But there's a censor on my stats."

I opened my attributes window for the first time since arriving in this turn. My stomach dropped.

"Shit, are you SERIOUS?!"

In fact, all of my information was on clear display, with the exception of one part marked by a series of "???". I cursed myself for stupidly not checking it sooner.

Then I shivered. Joonghyuk could have easily slaughtered me while I was unconscious after discovering a fellow regressor. No—he could have killed me immediately after seeing me on the bridge. He should have. This is Yoo Joonghyuk of the third round; a suspiciously powerful anomaly like me was grounds for instant elimination. The "2nd turn" label must have been my saving grace. Or maybe...maybe he sensed the past...?

"Just the one. What is it?" he asked.

"I have no idea." I felt a tick of annoyance as Joonghyuk's 'Lie Detection' activated and rang true.

There was a second stigma besides 'Regression' but I honestly couldn't recall what it might be.

We stopped for a water break at Yaksu station. Joonghyuk cleared the area of ground rats and a few people that tried to ambush us near the toilets. I used that time to thoroughly inspect my attributes window.

[ < Personal Information > ]

Name: Choi Yeona Age: 27 Constellation Support: Mother of Divine Desire Personal Attributes: Avid Reader (Common), Maladaptive Daydreamer (Rare), The Architect (Legendary), Regressor <2nd Round> (Legendary) Exclusive skills: [Sacred Light Lv. 5], [Rationality Lv. 9], [Fleet Foot Lv. 6], [Lie Detection Lv. 2], [Memory Enhancement Lv. 4], [Buff Lv. 4], [Bank of Lady Fortune Lv. 2], [Wire Transfer Lv. 1]... Stigma: [??? Lv. ???], [Pinpoint Regression Lv. 1] Overall Stats: [Stamina Lv. 15], [Strength Lv. 20], [Agility Lv. 22], [Mana Lv. 16]

Damn. It's no wonder I couldn't hold the bridge of light after the first scenario. I immediately boosted my stamina and mana levels with some coins, a bit embarrassed at how much lower they were to the others. Level 18 each should be good enough for now. But my other abilities were decently powerful.

Though I was disappointed to see that a lot of the skills I'd collected last round were weaker or missing, things had also been added. The 'Wire Transfer' skill, for one, and a couple new personal attributes. I skimmed past the first two—Maladaptive Daydreamer made me cringe as I recalled my escapist tendencies in my first, pre-transmigration life—and settled on the third. The Architect. I expected to have earned an author attribute after drafting my story of the last turn, but this was more curious. What sort of application did this attribute have?

I eyed the stigma section next. 'Pinpoint Regression' was at level one, as expected for my first turn, but just what was the stigma before it?

I thought of my last turn. There was a memory, a wiggling sensation, that I could almost grasp. A voice.

「 A re you dy ing for re al ?! 」

I screamed and clutched my head. There was an excruciating pain, like two hot pokers had been jammed through my eyeballs into the flesh of my brain. Once the feeling dulled and my vision returned, I scrambled for the aspirin and gulped down a few capsules. My attributes window still glowed in front of me.

[Memory Enhancement Lv. 3]

I frowned at the change, but before I could question it further, Joonghyuk stood. "Let's move."

...Did that asshole really just sit there while I was in such obvious pain? I glared at his retreating back. Yes, yes he did.

We moved in tandem, clearing the way with unspoken precision. Joonghyuk hadn't yet commented on 'Pinpoint Regression.'

"You're...weirdly casual about this."

Joonghyuk glanced at me. "Should I not be?"

"I thought you killed other regressors."

"I do."

It went uncomfortably silent. Well, I guess only uncomfortable for me, because then Joonghyuk huffed.

"Regressors usually know too much. But it's only your second turn."

I was rather miffed. Was he calling me ignorant? "Who says I don't have my own plans?"

There was no response to that. I was ready to pepper him with my own questions, but he turned sharply to stop me in my tracks. My grip tightened around my blade.

"How were we acquainted in your last turn?"

"Um." I searched for a good half-truth. "We were companions, of a sort."

[A few constellations are frustrated at the filter on this conversation.]

[The constellation 'Secretive Plotter' observes you cautiously.]

I was not a fan of two Yoo Joonghyuks steeling their gaze into me.

"I've never seen you before."

It was a weighty accusation. How could I possibly explain away my lack of existence in previous rounds?

"You saw how my stigma is 'pinpoint'? I can jump into other regression worlds, so you couldn't have seen me in any but my first." Joonghyuk's brows furrowed. "Our regression world-lines must not have overlapped for you until now."

I hoped playing off the unheard specialty of my stigma would get him off my back. Whether he accepted my explanation or not, it silenced any further discussion on the matter.

We soon reached the edge of the tunnel just before the entrance to Chungmuro.

[ Sub-scenario — Phantom Prison has begun! ]

The last thing I saw was a silvery fog sweeping into the tunnel before a haze overtook me. I could no longer see Joonghyuk ahead of me. Colors and shapes slipped just out of my grasp, and I was unsteady on my feet.

There was a loud grunt, then, thump! "Joonghyuk!"

I pitched forwards, trying to reach him, but I tripped and rolled until I heavy foot stopped me. The heel dug sharply into my ribcage.

「You're no hero.」

A woman leaned down, her long hair moving to reveal a deep, gnarled scar knotting from her forehead down through her right eye. Her mouth grinned, the torn and gaping flesh in the corners revealing too many teeth.

I tried conjuring a blade, arrows, anything, but sacred light was silent. "Please," I whimpered.

The voice that followed was something hateful.

「'Angel,' they call you. It is not one of salvation, but of death.」

「Death follows you.」

The weight on my chest grew heavier as the broken body of a young boy replaced the foot.

"Ha-joon," I cried, my bloodied hands shaking as I clutched his cold skin. "Ha-joon, please forgive me."

「It should have been you.」

His unseeing gaze seemed to agree with her.

I shifted, cradling the boy my arms and rocking back and forth. Tears slipped down my face and I looked down, only to find that the body was no longer Ha-joon, but a head-blown man in a suit. His blue tie was dark with blood.

"Dokja." The name was hoarse as it escaped my lips. Dokja, Dokja, Dokja.

He felt so real beneath my fingers. I was lightheaded and nauseous all at once, and I knew these were all memories long past but this past was paralyzing.

Rough hands wrenched me back by the shoulders.

「You think you're better than us?!」

The passengers of train carriage 3607 surrounded me, suffocating me with hands and words.

「In the corner, crushing your little bugs. How dare you!」

「Arrogant bitch!」

「She wants us to die!」

「Thought you were sneaky, did you?」

Centered in the mob, a gaunt, lanky man pointed his finger at me with a cruel twist to his features. 'Nosey Parker' himself. He was the one to pick me out with that dreadful skill of his.

[The skill 'Sacred Light Lv. 5' has been activated.]

He was also the first one I ripped into with my blade. I then swung blindly at everyone, though whether in rage or desperation, I wasn't sure. There was little resistance despite their bluster.

An angel of death.

Their bodies lay in pools of flesh and blood. My hands trembled, the golden knife casting a sickly glow on my skin. I cancelled the skill.

It was a moment too soon.

I grasped at the force that now choked me. The pressure grew stronger and I wheezed.

「Hands up!」

I squinted at the light blinding my eyes and cast them aside, my eyes landing on the familiar orange, mid-century sofa and walnut floorboards. The click of a gun snapped my attention back forwards.

「Let her go. No one has to get hurt.」

I gasped at the cold metal pressing hard into my throat above the hand. And a muttering in my ear.

「She's mine. Mine. You can't take her, you don't deserve her! She's perfect—you'll ruin her! She's MINE.」

The blade gouged into my skin, the hand cutting off the air from my lungs. I tugged in vain at the unyielding arm at my throat, and another force pinned my squirming body down. My vision began to blacken and a shot rang out.

「Yeona—!」

"...Yeona."

I was lying on my back in the tunnel. The pressure at my throat lessened, and I could breathe. In and out, in and out. A tear slowly tracked down my temple and into my hairline. The smell of damp earth was grounding.

At my now-stationary body, the person above me eased off my torso and limbs. Yoo Joonghyuk sat back on his heels, eyeing me warily. I surged up and loomed over him.

"Why the fuck would you think it's a good idea to grab me by the neck?" I spat in his face.

"You needed to snap out of it."

"Maybe you have a choking fetish." He shot me a withering glare. I gripped his shoulder with maximum strength, looking him square in the eye. "Don't ever touch my fucking neck again. If you do I'll kill you."

Even though I certainly wouldn't, my tone was dead-serious. Joonghyuk's attention was sharp on me until I released him and backed away. I set about dusting off my clothes and checking my gear.

"Phantom Prison."

I grunted.

"It forces you to relive your most painful memories and traps you there to unleash madness." I didn't have the heart nor energy to tell him I already knew. "Did you not encounter it your previous round?"

"You're awfully chatty."

In fact, I had gone through this sub-scenario before. But back then, there were only two memories worth torturing me with: Dokja's death, and my own. And seeing as my memories post-transmigration were choppy at best, I hadn't experienced much difficulty escaping the prison. It was Joonghyuk and Han Sooyoung who needed saving instead.

A blue message distracted me.

[The constellation 'God's Lone Soul Courier' has noticed you.]

I had seen this modifier once before, midway through my last round. It was the same message as that time. Though I strongly suspected their true identity, I wasn't sure if it was smart to acknowledge him.

I decided to let it be.

Joonghyuk had moved to the tunnel's exit and—surprisingly—waited as I finished collecting myself. We passed through.

Chungmuro station was empty. At least, there was no one to greet us in the immediate area of the platform. There was a harsh noise above us.

We hurried up the stairs to find a horde of people surrounding a high school girl. Several men held her arms back while others attempted to grab onto her kicking legs. "I'll kill you! Ugly, nasty ahjussis!"

Whether these men were of Gong Pildu's Landlord Alliance or not didn't matter—Lee Jihye was in trouble.

[Incarnation 'Choi Yeona' has activated 'Fleet Foot Lv. 6.']

[The exclusive skill 'Sacred Light' had been activated!]

I whipped a thick cord of light and caught one man's arm, yanking back so that he sprawled on the ground. The others cried out. "There!"

Joonghyuk swiped once with his sword and cut down three men. I sidestepped one that lunged at me, stabbing him in the back with sacred light.

The men were enraged. "That girl attacked us first!"

Jihye regained use of her arm and sucker punched her nearest assailant in the face. It left a satisfying crack.

She turned to grab her sword from the one holding it, and another jumped at her back. I flicked my wrist and twisted the whip-turned lasso around his body, binding him. Jihye wrestled with her sword. Joonghyuk, having eliminated the surrounding threats, slashed the man struggling with her.

Jihye turned around just as I was stabbing a knife through the soft underside of the final man's chin.

Her eyes were wide. "You two..."

"Hey." I pushed the stray hairs out of my face, grimacing at the blood. "I'm Choi Yeona. What's your—"

Jihye spun back around to gape at Joonghyuk. "Teach me!"

He cleaned his sword with an apparent disinterest. "Why?"

"Please! I will do anything and everything you say," she said, offering out her own sword with a slight bow. "I want to learn sword fighting from you and become stronger."

Crafty emo bastard. Teenagers always want more what they are seemingly denied, that which is just out of reach or deemed "inaccessible." It also helped that he possessed an unfairly symmetrical face.

Joonghyuk finally looked up, appraising, and nodded once. Jihye gushed out her gratitude with stars in her eyes. "I'm Lee Jihye, by the way."

"Yoo Joonghyuk."

"Master," she said in a way that was both breathless and earnest.

[A few constellations look upon this new Master-Student relationship with great interest!]

"I'm here too," I muttered.

I was ignored by all.

There weren't many constellations I was close with in the last round. I sometimes exchanged messages with Mother, but she was not someone I could contact for the time being. I hardly knew any others in this regression. (Even Uriel had abandoned me, probably keenly looking after Jung Heewon as she bloomed into a fierce sword of judgement right about now.)

Joonghyuk gave quiet instructions to Jihye to which she nodded fervently. After all was said, she skipped away to do who knows what tasks for the strict and fussy regressor.

I pulled a granola bar from my backpack in the meantime, missing having someone companionable to talk with.

Dokja, Sangah, everyone...please arrive quickly.

As if he had read my thoughts with an omniscient skill, Joonghyuk sheathed his sword and approached me. "Kim Dokja. Is he really a prophet?"

I gave him a careful glance, swallowing the last bite. "Yes, but not in the traditional sense."

Joonghyuk hummed. He surprisingly wasn't using lie detection, or at least, I wasn't receiving notifications about it. But one could never be too careful.

"Once this next scenario is over, I will go with Dokja to capture the flags; I want to send him on the 'King's Road' as quick as possible."

"No. He will follow me."

I felt a spark of indignation. "You don't have a claim over him. He has his own goals, and I will be by his side, helping him."

"The prophet is more useful at my side."

"Like hell," I said angrily. "He may very well be your companion now, but he is my Dokja first!"

He stared at me hard and then groaned, disbelieving. "You fool. Love has no place in this world."

My face heated. "I never said—"

"You didn't have to."

"Listen—"

"Shut up and you listen. You may love freely in this turn and in the next, and so on, but you will learn very quickly what it means to hold on to that love. To lose it over and over again. To never see its conclusion. Love is not meant for us; a regressor's life is meant to be lived alone."

"He is not Lee Seolhwa."

I regretted my words immediately at the sad, embittered look on Joonghyuk's face. But I stood my ground.

"Dokja is not her. And anyways, this is my final turn, so I don't have to worry about such things."

Joonghyuk didn't respond. His anger had waned some, but now he held a sort of resignation, a pity, towards me. In his eyes, I was a mere child on my second turn at life—what was one try to a thousand failed attempts? Even though Joonghyuk only possessed memories up to his third turn, the instincts honed from 1,863 regressions had shaped this man's mindset. If only he knew that this would truly be his last.

"You should allow yourself to love this time, too, Joonghyuk."

He looked at me for a long while, then he blinked and scanned my face, taking in my closeness. In a toneless voice, he said, "Thanks, but I'm not interested."

I jerked back. This conceited egomaniac! "No—! Obviously, I meant Lee Seolhwa! Where did you get such a big head?"

Only because I had known 1863rd Yoo Joonghyuk for years was I able to spot the barest hint of amusement in the corners of his neutral expression. It was good to know that a sense of humor still existed somewhere in that scrambled brain of his.

Even if it was at my expense.

I grumbled curses at Joonghyuk and turned away. There was nothing pressing to do at the moment, so I left him in search of the largest green zone in Chungmuro station.

It was time to recruit—or dominate—Gong Pildu and his Landlord Alliance.

Ground rats were easy enough to hunt and gather, but no one cared to mention the smell and the way their coarse, thick hairs clung to your clothing and left a rank, oily film all over.

I deposited the last few carcasses next to my earlier haul. In the three days I had been here, we burned through the meat supply terribly quick. I knew wiping my hands on my pants would do nothing to reduce the gross feeling and stench, so I headed up to the toilets. There was a buzz of commotion.

A crowd had gathered around Gong Pildu's great plot of land. I spotted Sangah's light brown hair from behind, and rushed to push my way through the bystanders.

"No, you and that kid are 1,000 coins."

I burst forwards in time to see Dokja's face grow tight with anger.

[You have invaded private property!]

The turrets all aimed at my body now.

"Gong Pildu, that is too much." I glared at the potbellied man who straightened up when he saw me. "A 100 coins each. And I'll be the one paying it for them."

His turrets moved away at once. "Yeona, you know these boys?"

Dokja and Gilyoung jolted out of their excitement at the obvious familiarity with which Pildu spoke to me. I crossed my arms at Pildu and he drummed his fingers on his stomach nervously. "They invaded my property," he tried again.

"I've said I'll pay the fee," I said calmly. "Let them pass to the toilets. Now, please."

A conflicted expression crossed Pildu's face. Then he sighed and deactivated the turrets, waving a hand at the two beside me. "Fine then. You got off easy this time...lucky free riders."

Dokja looked very much like he wanted to snap back a retort, but I gave him a light shove towards the bathroom door. I gestured for our other companions to follow, and Sangah shot me a grateful smile as she passed by. I reached out my index finger to Gong Pildu.

He shook his head. "Nah, I don't want you paying me, girl. Family doesn't pay."

Yes...apparently my luck extended far beyond Kim Dokja and even my expectations. And I didn't have to use my luck bank either. By some ridiculous coincidence, Gong Pildu's daughter was named "Yeona" as well. I had discovered this in the last round, but it never served me any advantage back then. Now, with his family's death still fresh on his mind, Pildu immediately brought me into the fold when I had introduced myself. He was a bit dejected when I refused to join his Landlord Alliance, but the fact remained that I was given a free plot of land in the soft spot of his heart.

"Yeona!"

Pildu protested as I touched his hand to transfer 300 coins. I smiled at him. "An extra hundred for my own intrusion."

I went to the toilets and nearly ran into Dokja, who had been lingering by the doorway.

His eyes were sharp on me. "Did I hear that right? Family?"

"Uh." I scratched at the side of my face. "Well, you see, his daughter's name was 'Yeona,' too."

"But you're..."

"I know, I'm way older than his daughter probably was. But I guess getting to call someone by her name is enough." I pondered for a moment. "It must be awfully lonely to grieve alone."

We rounded the corner to the sinks, and there was a cough behind us. I turned, surprised to see Lee Jihye leaning against the wall. I hadn't noticed her standing with my group before. She sidled up to us with her sword perched on one shoulder.

"Jihye, why didn't you tell me they had arrived?"

The girl cast a sly grin at Dokja, and then at me. "His face when I said you were gone was too funny. I thought he would hit me. Or cry."

I narrowed my eyes at Jihye until she huffed and kicked at the ground. "Okay sorry. I'll tell your side piece the truth next time."

"He is not—!"

"Master will be very unhappy when he finds out you're two-timing him," she inspected her fingernails.

"LEE JIHYE."

The moment sacred light furiously twisted around my arms and into a blunt weapon of gold knuckles, Jihye became docile; one step towards her and she quickly skipped out of the bathroom.

"Like I would ever want to date that emo bastard," I muttered as I deactivated sacred light.

I spun around to find Dokja looking like the floor had dropped out from under him. There was a hard lump in my throat as I swallowed, a nervous laughter escaping. "Ignore her. She tends to talk out of her ass...I'm sure you already knew that, though."

"Yes," said Dokja stiffly. Something was on his mind but after a few moments, he must have decided not to share it because he set about washing the grime off his hands. In the time I had washed my own, Dokja still hadn't finished nor looked my way once.

The sound of running water filled the silence until Sangah emerged from a stall. She gave me a pursed-lip smile and rinsed hands next to Dokja, who was still washing his hands.

Sangah wiped the excess water on her suit pants and drew near me, placing a hand on my shoulder. She glanced back at Dokja and chuckled when I eyed her curiously.

"Later," she murmured. Then she was gone.

I sat up on the counter and waited. Dokja finally finished washing up (or feeling the sensation of water running over his skin for ten minutes?!) and he leaned back against the sink. Heewon emerged, glanced at us, and hurried out after Sangah. I kicked my feet, searching for something to say that might lessen the tension.

"Thank you for helping us back there," Dokja said at last.

"Of course. Gong Pildu was surprisingly easy to win over, as you saw. Lee Jihye on the other hand…" My face twisted into a scowl. "She’s loyal and overly-obsessed with her 'Master.' The only reason she even tolerates me is because I arrived with him."

"...Right." Dokja's sour mood returned in full force.

I fidgeted with the smooth, cold tile under my palms.

Before I could try again, Dokja asked, "What did you do the past few days?"

I ticked them off on my fingers. "Saved Lee Jihye from some murderers, trained up my stats and skills because they're downright abysmal right now, searched for the hidden theater dungeon—" I rerouted when Dokja startled at that "—but I didn't go in yet! I wanted to go there with you so I waited. Oh, and I've been mostly hunting ground rats for food."

A small smile now graced Dokja's face, and I felt at ease. "What happened with you while I was gone?"

He told me of the challenges at Geumho station and Cheon Inho's group, and of the struggle with the Dark Keeper in the tunnel cave. I listened intently, and though I knew the details already, I didn't have to pretend to care because it was not me reading these events, but listening to Kim Dokja recounting them. Telling his own story.

And he was truly a wonderful storyteller.

His hands flew in grand gestures as he told me of the battle in the cave, his eyes gleamed as he spoke of Han Myungoh's curse and the breaking of Samyeongdang's statue. His voice drew me in and I couldn't help but fall into his story, hanging on his every word. When he finished, it must have shown how starstruck I was, because he considered me, puzzled, but amused.

I cleared my throat. "You've had a great adventure already, it seems."

"I have."

I nodded to the sword at his side. "I'm glad you were able to get Unbroken Faith this time."

An odd expression crossed Dokja's face, but before he could voice a single thought, another person spoke.

"Why are you in the women's bathroom?"

Yoo Joonghyuk emerged, Jihye hovering behind him.

I wrinkled my nose. "Why are you?"

Joonghyuk gave me a bland look, as if I were stupid for even asking.

A heat of resentment burnt through me. "We're in the middle of a torrid and passionate lovemaking affair, so why don't you just see yourself out?"

Jihye cackled. Perhaps I had gained some favor with her over my words, but it was at the expense of my own neck—a neck Joonghyuk seemed very keen to slice in half at the moment despite my previous warning not to touch it. I didn't dare turn my head to view Dokja's reaction.

Joonghyuk decided to ignore me for the time being, and addressed Dokja again. "It looks like you've kept your companions."

"Looks like I have." Dokja straightened and stepped forwards to match Joonghyuk's gaze. "I see you've left Gong Pildu alone. Why is that?"

"Aren't you a prophet?" scoffed Joonghyuk.

"Prophets don't know everything." At Joonghyuk's crossing arms, Dokja amended, "You need him alive for a future scenario. But only Gong Pildu—so why the others?"

"You wouldn't understand."

The silence that followed was tense. Jihye squeezed the handle of her sword uncomfortably.

"She also left them alive. Why don't you ask her?" I went rigid as Joonghyuk cast his piercing gaze back onto me.

Dokja's expression was hard. "It isn't her problem to deal with."

It's the protagonist's job to deal with villains, is what he meant.

"Interesting."

I didn't like the way Joonghyuk was analyzing us. I remembered our talk from the other day and winced. He saw my love as a weakness, never mind if it was reciprocated or not, and I was afraid this would only hurt his willingness to be Dokja's companion. As much of a priority as my "Save Kim Dokja!" goal was, I didn't want to disrupt the bond that was barely beginning to form between these two.

"Does that apply to everyone, or just Yeona?"

Everyone—including me—startled at my given name falling from Yoo Joonghyuk's lips without any formalities attached. Dokja's jaw clenched hard. "Can I punch you just this once?"

[Incarnation 'Yoo Joonghyuk' has activated 'Tiger God Aura Lv. 5.']

Amusement ticked up in the corner of Joonghyuk's mouth. "If you have the confidence to."

Then he sauntered out of the room, black cape swishing behind him and Lee Jihye not long after. Dokja's fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly.

...I might have to have to work extra hard to ensure things went smoothly between those two blockheads.

I tugged along a still-infuriated Dokja, and we left the toilets to rejoin the rest of our group farther down the station. Dokja mumbled under his breath and shuffled away.

"Yeona-noona!"

Gilyoung launched himself at my torso and hugged me. I ruffled his hair with a smile. "I missed you, Gilyoung."

He squeezed me tightly. "Please don't leave anymore."

It wasn't something I could promise the young boy, so I cast my eyes around, only to find Namwoon awkwardly shuffling back and forth on each foot. I called his name and he jolted up. I held out my other arm. "Get in here, too, you crazy demon."

With a happy cry, he attached himself to my other side. "Angel-noona, don't leave me with these losers ever again."

"Hey!"

Gilyoung pinched Namwoon's arm, and the latter returned the favor. They devolved into a fierce pinching battle, so I untangled from them. "Stop it. I'd like you two to get along, if you can."

Gilyoung stuck out his tongue at Namwoon, who scowled.

I sighed. Perhaps it was too much to ask.

After untangling myself from them, I went over to the others. Hyunsung and Sangah greeted me warmly, expressing their happiness over our reunion and my safety.

When I got to Jung Heewon, I stuck out a tentative hand and she took it. "Nice to meet you. I'm Choi Yeona—oh!"

Heewon swept me up in a tight hug, wrapping me in her old general's robe like seaweed around a roll of gimbap. "I know. They talk about you a lot."

"Hopefully all good things," I said, a little flustered.

She pulled back and smiled. "Actually, I want to thank you properly." At my confusion she continued. "One of those guys returned with...an interesting removal procedure."

My face cleared. "Removal? Did it fall off then? That wasn't my intention."

"Mm I guess. Anyways, I owe you for that. And for leaving them to me."

"They weren't mine to kill," I said in a hard voice. "You owe me nothing; I'm just relieved you're alright in the end."

Heewon nodded. We exchanged a few more words, and then I approached Dokja sitting on a concrete bench. He was deeply focused on something.

"There's only an hour and a half left."

He was broken from his stupor and looked up at me. I sat beside him.

Dokja fidgeted with the smartphone in his hand. "I'm not sure what is best to do about Gong Pildu."

"We can beat them if we join forces!" said Heewon from nearby, and she tried activating 'Hour of Judgement,' but the constellations of the absolute good system remained quiet over her request.

"It's no use," I said. "The Landlord Alliance is not considered evil."

"But aren't they?" There was a confused, almost lost, expression on Heewon's face.

"From our perspective," Dokja stood. "But constellations adhere to a different standard of morality. Evil must be agreed upon."

Heewon was clearly enraged to discover this truth.

"But there might be a way."

All of us paused to look at Dokja. He smiled. There was a smug, confident lift to it that was so attractive, I had to press my thighs into my seat to stem the inviting heat curling inside of me.

"There's a way we can defeat them, but let's leave that for later. Right now, we must survive the night. We should split up to find a green zone room that will fit all of us—Heewon and Gilyoung together, and Hyunsung, Sangah, and Namwoon. Yeona and I will search this area. Meet here twenty minutes before the scenario starts."

Namwoon looked back at me, as if to complain. I narrowed my eyes and he huffed; they all nodded in determination and scattered. Dokja sat back down next to me and began scrolling through his phone. Of course we both knew that searching was hopeless.

It was then that Bihyung must have privately reprimanded him for looking at a "blank" screen, because he turned to me, leaning in close. "Yeona. Can you read anything on my phone?"

I was already staring at it in shock. "...I can."

I could read Ways of Survival. Was it my status as a transmigrator? I wasn't a "character," but in that case, Sangah or Gilyoung should be able to read his phone as well. It unsettled me. There was something odd, something more to this, but I was missing the proper pieces to figure it out.

"I—we should talk about this later," I said quietly, flicking my eyes up to the ceiling. Dokja agreed.

"You two seem really laid back."

Jihye walked towards us with a grin, sword unsheathed and on the usual perch on her shoulder. "Hey, ahjussi. I liked the way you stood up to Master...so I don't want you to die. Both of you."

Dokja grinned back as we stood to greet her. "We won't."

Joonghyuk appeared then with a frown. "You plan to fight the monsters? You'll die, and so will your companions."

"We'll see about that." Dokja challenged him with a cocky raise of an eyebrow. Joonghyuk's eye twitched.

Before the pair left, I took Jihye aside to enlist her help. Joonghyuk observed us curiously, but didn't reject my request on behalf of his student. Jihye agreed and they disappeared.

Lee Jihye would ensure her, Namwoon, and Gilyoung had spots secured upstairs. It made me a bit nervous to trust her with them, particularly Gilyoung, but it was safer up there than down here next to the spawning location (and I not-so-subtly implied that I would gut her like a fish if she let anything happen to them). Though she didn't seem to be overly fond of me still, I sensed that she respected me enough for this task. I wasn't sure how much of that was related to Joonghyuk or her own judgement.

The others returned just then, arguing over which demand they were given was more ridiculously priced for a green zone that night.

Dokja gathered them round and began to explain his plan.

The red barrier ahead of us cast a sinister glow. Sangah, Heewon and Hyunsung were grouped in front of Dokja and I.

[The third main scenario is activated.]

"Go now!"

Snarling monsters emerged from the red. The group sprinted forwards and dashed to the left. They each made it to the green panel on the wall.

[Green Zone 3/3]

Dokja and I ran, monster claws and teeth nipping at our heels, and my skin stung as it was caught and shredded. A horde of beasts charged at us from the front, and we leapt over them.

We were nearly to the other hidden green zone panel when Dokja stopped. Yoo Joonghyuk was right where I knew he would be, leaning against the glowing green wall. I tugged an angry Dokja forwards anyways. My brows furrowed as I neared the barrier. "Joonghyuk, get o—"

"You bastard!"

Dokja was furious now, fending off monsters as his glare bored into the regressor that had just grabbed and yanked me into the green zone behind him.

"Joonghyuk," I said.

He must have sensed something peculiar in my tone because he craned his head back to look at me. I gave him a sickly sweet smile before shoving him forth with a huge buff of strength. He flew into the swarm of monsters. "You're so predictable!"

I stepped out of the green zone just far enough to grab Dokja's arm and shirt collar and pull him towards me. Joonghyuk leapt up, but it was too late.

[Green Zone 2/2]

[A number of constellations are in shock over your actions!]

The tidal waves of fury emanating from Joonghyuk were quickly curbed as he was distracted by the monsters piling on top of him. He set to work at once, slashing off limbs and piercing ribcages in a mess of blood and matted fur and flesh. Individual constellation messages filled the corner of my vision, but I ignored them. It wasn't a good situation. It wasn't funny, either. It wasn't—

But a gleeful little giggle escaped me anyways.

I tilted my head to look at Dokja, who was staring at me in amazement. I beamed at him. His arms were firm around my back.

"Yeona, you really..."

I shrugged. "You were thinking it too; he's more than capable of surviving the night alone. And I think we deserve the break."

My hands tightened on Dokja's collar as I peeked over his shoulder. Joonghyuk was fighting a fresh wave of beasts a ways down the tunnel now, his back to us barely visible through the horde. He would have to fight until dawn or kill another person to occupy their zone. But this was the regressor and protagonist, Yoo Joonghyuk. I wasn't worried for him one bit.

Plus, now Dokja could save those specter's stones for a more dire situation in the future. They would come in handy.

My bent elbows grew uncomfortable at that angle, so I slid my arms behind Dokja's neck and chanced a glance at his face.

He was still staring. I looked back at him, blinking slowly.

I felt his hands press into my body a little harder. There wasn't a ton of distance between us, but we weren't all that close together either. I didn't dare move, nor speak, for fear of shattering the unnamed moment that had formed amidst the turmoil surrounding us.

Dokja moved one arm to brace the wall behind me and lean forwards, resting his head against it. His body trapped me in a bubble of heat from our earlier exertion outrunning the monsters. Each heavy breath he took made his chest brush against mine.

"Thank you," he murmured.

I nodded my head, a little disappointed, then let my weight slump against the wall, too.

[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' grumbles with displeasure.]

It was going to be a long night. I didn't fancy staying awake the whole time—sleep deprivation was not a problem we could afford with the never-ending scenario dangers—but there really was no other option.

So I cast my mind to the future, sifting through possibilities and backup plans for my backup plans. If my mind had to be alert all night, then I should at least make use of it.

And if both Dokja and I chose to continue holding on to one another for the remaining eight hours, then that was nobody's business but ours. (But a few constellations were rather interested in that little development anyways.)

Our occupied green zone was terribly small, so we had to do it, right?

...Right?

Next part ->

A/N: RIGHT!

[The author 'snowfieldstories' hopes this fluff will make up for the trauma-angst earlier.]

[time22kill]

anth*ny b*rch really took the "happy" out of "happy fathers day"

[elytrafemme]

every single fictional character i like should split and have mood swings like me. "ohhhhh but it's not canotical" "ohh they have good control over their emotions and stable views on the world" i don't fucking care. i see cq in his fake desert i see klavier's control dialogue i see dahlia and her serial murders and komaeda and the gun literally fuck with me right now. we need to stop being cowards about our fictional character headcanons i think everyone should kill people always because i can't

[serrennedyanonwriter]

Istg, I’m going to just start revoking people’s rights to enjoying Lu!s as a character because I keep seeing whitewashed art of him, and people keeping saying “He looks so great!” NO, THE FUCK HE DON’T, HE’S BEEN MADE SHADES LIGHTER.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Ludos Imperiales II

Summary: Princess!Reader makes a deal with the Emperor to try and save her mates.

Content Warnings: Violence, Blood and Gore, Gladiator Tournament, Physical Abuse.

Part One

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

I can’t breathe. The world spins in dizzying swirls around me. Mates.

Not one.

Not two.

Three!

All of them enemies of the Empire. Rebels scheduled for execution. Fate has always been a cruel bastard in all matters concerning me, but this feels like a personal attack on my existence. Someone in the Celestial Plain is laughing at this twisted attempt of a joke. How could I be so close to happiness and be forced to sit here and watch it be ripped from me one blood splatter at a time?

The Game Maker starts speaking again, his voice booming across the arena. I can’t make out any of the words; they’re all muddled together in my ears. This cannot be happening to me! It’s not fair! I’ve been the perfect daughter, even when it shattered me; I was a model student; I’ve upheld the law to the very letter; I make weekly sacrifices to the Mother; I built my own lararium to offer nightly prayers to the gods. I have been devought and loyal to both the gods and the Empire and this is the thanks I get?

I can’t tear my eyes away from where the three of them stand in the center of the Pit, waiting for the gates to open again. The violet eyed one, Rhysand-- gods even his name is pretty--won’t stop staring at my Father, challenging him to speak, to fight, to do something other than sit there like a coward while someone else kills for him. 

My Father must understand the challenge in that gaze, because he finally stands and goes to the edge of the booth, weathered hands splayed out against the worn stones bearing a flag with his crest embroidered upon it. “Citizens of the Empire!”

The crowd gives a raucous shout.

I simply scoot a little closer to Brannagh to be able to see around Father.

My movements do not break the silent battle happening with Rhysand, but it does draw the eye of Azriel, who’s bloodied head tilts to the side quizzically as he takes me in. I feel a blush creep its way up my cheeks, the booth suddenly too hot as I try to meet his gaze. That hazel gaze bears an intensity that keeps me in place, but I cannot help but feel like I’ve been stripped bare, as if he can see straight into my chest, where my heart still pounds an uneven beat. 

“Before you stands that which threatens our peace, our security, and most importantly the prosperity that our people hold so dear.”

The tall one, Cassian frowns at that, but Rhysand grins, as if he has won whatever silent battle he’s been having with my Father. He tips his head back and bellows, so that not a single soul here misses it, “There is no prosperity or peace in the Empire! There is only enslavement and death!”

The boos that had started coming from the crowd die, as if someone had collectively cut off their air supply. 

The muscles in my Father’s back tighten as he realizes what is happening.

“Outside these walls we all starve! Supplies to every corner of the Empire have dwindled to single bags of grain, meant only to feed the soldiers that terrorize us in every corner of the world. You do not hear from your families in the far reaches because your mail is censored. Your loved ones have been dragged from their beds and crucified without trial. The only prosperity in this Empire is for Hybern himself.”

I finally tear my gaze away from Azriel’s silent study to look at Amarantha for confirmation that it is true. 

“You should have slit his throat on the battlefield,” Dagdan snarls in her direction. 

The power seeping from my fingers tears a hole through my skirts, singing across my thighs. The errant strand only hidden by the way I keep the fabric bunched in my hands. I do not allow myself to wince against the sting and give myself away.

“Those were not my orders!” Amarantha snarls, her teeth flashing as she stands. Her slaves jump out of her way, cowering against each other for safety. “Your Highness, silence him before he incites a riot!”

No! No! No! This can’t be happening to me! Not again. It is like watching my Mother be taken away all over again. I had just stood there. Unable to cry or scream or fight. I could only watch. That was what she trained me to do. She had even nodded her approval to my stillness as they’d dragged her away, as if it had been right. None of it was right. None of this was right!

“Your Master will tell you pretty stories but we are all his slaves in the end. Illyria has had enough! We will not sit by and let our women and children starve! If that makes us rebels and traitors to the crown, so be it! But what would you do if it was your children in the streets? Your wives being carted off to service foreign elites? Your sons forced to kill and die for an Empire that can’t even feed you?” Rhysand screams.

My Father, silently, motions to one of his Praetorians, a crossbow already swinging from the clip at his back. 

The pounding of my heart in my ears will swallow me. Everything in the world slows and narrows into the motion of an arrow being fit into the crossbow.

Move! Move! Move! A dark ether of my power slithers up my wrists, catching Brannagh’s attention. She must make some snide remark about it, because I, distantly, see her lips move but no sound ever reaches my ears. I have to stop this. I have to do something!

I’m on my feet without conscious thought of what I’m doing. “Father, wait!” My hands reach for him, the sizzle of pain as my power skitters across his skin enough to make him turn and face me. I don’t know what I’m doing, or what I’m saying, the words spew as if they have a mind of their own.

“If you kill him now like this you will incite a riot!”

His face twists, a snarl slipping past his clenched teeth. I have royally pissed him off, disgraced him here in front of his Inner Circle, where they watch from nearby booths. The thought would usually send me cowering like a dog with its tail between its legs, but the fear I feel for him is nothing against the fear I feel for them. The thing that links our souls together burns and rattles beneath my rib cage, needing to defend, to fight.

“Call off your guard!” I hiss, reaching out a hand and letting that dark power that lives inside me show. I’ll strike him dead if he so much as moves a finger towards the trigger. “Let us be diplomatic about this.”

“Who are you,” Father snarls, taking an advancing step towards me. The booth shakes as his own dark power rises to meet mine. “To challenge me, child?!”

I hold my ground, even though my body trembles. It is only the dutiful teachings of my Mother that keep my chin up instead of bowing it to my chest as every muscle screams for me to do. “I am not challenging you, I am trying to think about our people.”

I clench my fists again, dimming my power in feigned submission. “Go about this a different way. Show the people that ruthlessness is not always the answer to our nation’s problems.”

“Are you suggesting I spare an enemy?” Father snarls.

I honestly don’t know what my plan is here. I’m just throwing things against the wall and hoping something, anything, sticks, otherwise my only option is to fling myself down into the Pit and hope the power thrumming in my veins is enough to save my mates.

“No,” if I am to keep all of our heads, I must be crafty. I must play the games my Father plays. My gaze flicks to where Amarantha’s slaves remain huddled together, a desperate thought forming in my head. My stomach turns at the mere idea, but if it can save them…?

“You mean to entertain the people and quell all possible chances of further rebellion, but we have seen time and time again that no execution or crucifixion has done that. We merely make martyr after martyr. We encourage others to take up the cause.”

“Let them fight,” I’m going to be sick! It feels like there’s a knot forming in my chest. “And if they survive, let them live, let them be gladiators.” It’s unthinkable, it puts them in danger time and time again. “The betting will be astronomical. The people will return time and time again in hopes of seeing them fall. That money can provide support to the edges of the Empire. Prove him wrong by sending extra aid to those outside our walls.”

To his credit, my Father does listen to me ramble. The Mother has smiled on me for once, if he had been in one of his fits today he would have had Amarantha kill me where I stood. It is a miracle the Praetorian didn’t take me out for wielding so close to him in the first place.

 “And you would have them what? Live in the slave quarters where they can incite a riot with all the dregs?” Amarantha hisses.

I’ll lose him if I let her forked tongue keep whispering in his ear. I am not blind, I know that she has more favor with him than I ever have. “No. Leaving them free to whisper with the other gladiators would be a mistake. Let someone claim responsibility for them.” 

The plan forms in my mind as I speak. I don’t like it. I’m not sure that it’ll even work, but I have to try and save them. I cannot let them die while I stand here uselessly watching as I did with my Mother. I will never be useless or silent again. “Give them to me.”

Brannagh chokes on her wine behind me.

Amarantha’s jaw actually drops in shock.

“I will take responsibility for them. They will be monitored by my guard. To our people it will look  like you mean to humiliate three great warriors, by shackling them to me. It is no secret what our people think of me.”

Dagdan’s snort is proof enough how weak I look in the eyes of our people. I am nothing but a sheltered, pampered princess to them. Up until today they didn’t even know that I’d inherited my Father’s powers. Good, let them all think me weak and useless and meek, they will never know the claws and fangs that hide beneath my skin until it is too late. Father included.

“She is not strong enough to keep them in check,” Amarantha hisses. “If you are to do it, give them to me.”

I barely reign in my powers, barely keep my teeth behind my lips. They are mine and I will be damned before I let her put her grubby little paws on them! 

“You may monitor them as often or as random as you wish, Father,” I speak over her instead, fighting to keep his attention. “I will move back into the Palace. I will sit in every meeting. I…” There is one sure thing that will guarantee his approval of this awful plan of mine. “I will marry whoever you choose for me.”

His dark brows raise in surprise. “And what would prompt this sudden loyalty to me, child?”

I raise my chin. “I have sat too long in the dark, and I could not see it until…” I have already bartered my soul, what will some more empty words mean in the end? “I could not see it until you removed that traitor and her poisoned tongue from the house. I see it now. I have failed our people and I mean to make it right.”

He flicks his gaze over his shoulder, down into the Pit. “The gorsian stone should keep Rhysand in line. And with enough guards, you might be able to keep them locked up. If they should survive the fight.”

“Sometimes death is a mercy,” I say, the words tasting like bile. 

He takes a step closer, so we’re nearly nose to nose. “And if you fail to keep them in line, it will be you that dies in this arena, do you understand?”

Better me than them. 

“You cannot be serious, Your Highness!” Amarantha squeaks, her voice shrill.

I nod, trying not to gloat in my victory over her. “I understand.”

Father grins, pleased with himself as he snags my hand and brings me back into view of the arena. “Please forgive the delay, the Princess and I were just discussing what our guests had to say about the state of our Empire.”

I feel three sets of eyes settle on me like a brand. The bond, still so new and raw in my chest, feels like chains rattling against my ribcage. I cannot tell if it is their anxiety or my own. 

“Let it be known that this Empire is a democracy, and that I, as your Emperor, care about the state of affairs that all of our people live in.”

 I try to meet the gaze of the senators and highly decorated soldiers sitting in the booths that line the upper ring of the arena. These will be the most upset by the news. The next ring of wealthy merchants and shopkeepers, tradesmen and fleet keeps will be the ones that take what they hear here back to the streets. Word will spread. The people will know what happened here, how the Emperor suddenly decided to care about them. It will be a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

I try to not look down at the Pit; try not to think about the life I’m condemning them to. 

“Our beloved Princess is very concerned about your well-being,” Father continues and there’s a collective cheer from the lower levels. “And so, we have decided not to execute these rebels today.”

The tone immediately shifts to one of confusion.

“They will compete as gladiators. Should they prove resourceful enough to survive, they will be branded as gladiators, and sponsored by our Princess.” Great, not only do they have to survive the damned arena, they have to survive any threats from other gladiators who will seek to take out well-sponsored competition. 

Even from our vantage point I hear Cassian curse in disbelief. 

“She has so graciously decided that all their winnings will be sent to any hurting corners of the Empire, should there be any to be found.”

The crowd takes a moment to process what he says. It even takes me a minute to comprehend the last part. He’d really send all the money that I’d earn as their sponsor to the poor? That’s a hefty bit of charity, even for him. There has to be some sort of catch?

“So, let these males fight! Let’s see how far they are willing to go for their people.”

There it is. They could choose to sit down and die in the arena, making themselves martyrs as Amarantha thinks they intended, and then, instead, they would look like they were not willing to make sacrifices for their people. If they fought, competed for whatever earnings were bet on them, then they would be heroes. A symbol of strength only the great Emperor Hybern could make. Father really is the best at these political games.

The crowd roars as trumpets blow three times.

Father motions me back to our seats.

“You don’t really think they can win, do you, cousin?” Dagdan questions.

The ground shakes as a giant strolls out of the tunnels. The creature is so large he has to bend over nearly double to fit. When he stands to his full height, his bald head is practically even with the edge of our booth. Terrible scars crisscross over his body like spiderwebs. Hybern went to war first with the land of Giants, the war had lasted decades. My Grandfather had taken many giants as slaves and forced them to kill each other in this arena. Some gladiators were able to earn their freedom, but the devastation that the Giants had wrought on our people made my Grandfather declare that no Giant could ever be made free. The poor creature had probably been chained here, fighting in the Pit long before I was even born.

“They survived Amarantha,” I retort.

The General bristles. “I thought you didn’t place bets on the first day?”

I reach for another glass of wine, trying to settle my nerves. “There’s a first time for everything.” Perhaps making an enemy out of her is unwise, but the bond chafes against my ribcage at the thought of her being anywhere near any of them. Better to keep her attention on me than on them. 

Another horn blows, prompting the giant to move and I hold my breath as he reaches a meaty hand down to grab one of the Illyrians. The males scatter, Cassian going into a roll between the Giant’s legs, using the blind spot to his advantage while Rhysand drags Azriel out of the way with an arm around his waist. He’s practically carrying Azriel now, who’s broken wings seem to be getting heavier by the minute. 

Cassian roars as he stretches out a hand, a wave of red tinted energy blasting from his palm. The arch or power slams into the Giant’s calf, blasting away a chunk of skin and muscle, splattering blood across the nearest wall. 

The Giant roars as he falls to one knee.

Cassian sprints behind him, out of reach of the hand that comes sweeping down at him. This time, he’s the distraction as Rhysand uses the hand not holding Azriel upright to unleash a blast of dark, obsidian power. 

My own magic flares in response. It is a darkness so like my own, the sight of it a siren call that has me leaning forward in my seat. If he can unleash a blast powerful enough to leave a gash across the Giant’s bare chest with those gorsian chains around his neck, how much damage can he do without it?

The Giant’s cries of pain echo throughout the amphitheater; using the distraction, Cassian continues to blast away at it’s leg while Rhys throws blow after blow at it’s chest. They fair far better than I anticipated they would, but I know better than to let hope get the better of me. It is far too easily ripped away in this arena. 

As if on cue, the gates open again and a pack of wargs come sprinting into the arena.

The crowd erupts in cheers, and my heart once again thunders in my chest. What have I done? It takes all my training to not start chewing on my thumbnail. How am I supposed to save them from this?

Amarantha claps gleefully as one of the wargs breaks away from the pack to lunge straight for Azriel’s throat. 

No! No! No- Azriel raises a scarred hand to blast the beast backward with a wave of blue tinted magic. There isn’t enough time to sigh in relief, not as the rest of the pack splits in two, one circling Rhysand and Azriel, the other taking a shot at the Giant. Those rows of razor sharp and needle thin teeth sink into the Giant’s already bleeding leg, momentarily distracting it as it swings wildly around the arena, arms pinwheeling as it fights to balance on one leg while the other flails in an attempt to shake the beasts off. 

“They’re not supposed to attack the Giant!” Brannagh whines. 

I gulp down my wine, hoping it will push the wave of nausea that rolls through me down. I’ve signed their death warrants. I’ve gotten my mates killed. 

Cassian, in the chaos, has managed to find half of a spear, the blade rusted from the recent rain, but he hurls it with acute precision nonetheless, piercing through the oddly shaped skull of a warg snapping at Azriel’s wings. 

Rhysand and Azriel have moved to stand back to back, their varying shades of magic weaving between their fingers as they prepare to strike the snapping beasts that circle them. 

The Giant topples over as the three wargs held tight to it’s wounded calf find a nerve. There’s not enough room in the arena to let him fall without incident. The poor creature topples right into the wall opposite us, knocking away a section of stone and nearly dragging a Senator and his mistress into the Pit.

The Praetorians launch from our booth to aid the screaming couple.

It might have been funny under different circumstances, but I cannot peel my eyes away from my mates as the blast beast after beast away with their magic. Even wounded, even stunted by the chains, they are the most powerful wielders I’ve ever seen. Even if Cassian’s and Azriel’s magic sprays with less precision than usual without the siphons Illyrians are known for, every blow is calculated. They do not miss. Warg after warg falls, their leathery skin blistered or blasted away from multiple blows. Even wounded, the males remain in perfect sync, filling in any gaps the other might lack. They manage to kill five of the eight beasts, the other three still mercilessly tearing through the Giant’s leg, even as the guards try to push him off the wall.

Brannagh laughs at the tears that fall from the Giant’s eyes as he swats uselessly at the beasts. No matter how many times his massive fists slams against them, they will not let go. His blood runs like a river through the center of the Pit.

Many of the crowd laugh too.

These are my people? This is what I am to inherit? This misery and suffering and apathy towards the suffering of others? We are monsters!

As soon as I can get my mates out of this godsforsaken Pit, I will find a way to get them far, far away from this place, where it can never hurt them again. And then, when I know they are safe, I will make sure that this place burns.

Rhysand seems to take pity on his opponent, as he steps away from Azriel’s back to blast one of the remaining wargs off the Giant’s calf. From the distance across the arena, the blow is not a killing one, and aggravated, the warg turns its attack to Rhysand.

My breath hitches in my throat as he lowers himself into a crouch, hands splaying in the damp earth. There is a sword a couple feet from him, if he runs, he might make it there first. But he doesn’t run, he waits until the beast gets close before hurling dust in it’s eyes. While it’s distracted, a rope of star studded magic unfurls from his palm and wraps around the beast’s throat. Instead of killing it, he hurls it back at the others, knocking all of them free from the Giant’s leg.

The crowd boos.

My heart clenches in my chest. He could have let them end this fight now, could have let those beasts tear clean through the Giant’s leg and won by default, but he didn’t. He chose to fight fair, to do the dirty work himself.

The three beasts turn on him as he sprints for the sword. There’s just enough time for him to get a firm grip on the hilt before the first lunges, its claws tearing through his forearm as he fights to get the angle he needs to win. Blood splatters, those handsome features twisting in pain as he adjusts his stance. Cassian runs towards him, but he won’t make it in time. 

There’s no more wine to distract me, I’ve fully bitten through my lip now. Please if there are any gods left to hear me, don’t let him die here!

Rhysand moves with the grace of a well-practiced swordsman, each step flowing into the next like a dance as he cleaves through one beast's head, and severs the paw of a second. In mere seconds, he manages to dispatch the rest, leaving the mangled bodies at his feet. His chest heaves as he fights to catch his breath and under different circumstances I might have been too distracted by his beauty to notice the Giant move. 

Rhysand might have been the better male, but that didn’t save him from the Giant’s hand as it swatted him across the battlefield like he was a pesky fly. I bite deeper through my lip to keep back a scream as his body bounces across the muddy floor until he meets a wall. 

Cassian and Azriel roar in outrage and the tether that sits in my chest rattles so hard against my rib cage I think it might rip right out of me. This can’t be happening!

The Giant rises on shaking legs, then falls back onto its knees, using its meaty fists to bash against the arena floor, in what looks like the world’s deadliest game of Whack-A-Mole. Red and blue magic flashes across the arena as the Illyrian’s throw blow after blow, leaving bleeding gashes in the Giant’s fist. Across the arena, Rhysand rolls onto his back, forehead covered in blood as he struggles to get upright. He’s alive at least. Barely. But alive.

I vow to the Mother and any other god that can hear me that if they survive the fight I will find somewhere safe for them. I will do whatever it takes to keep them out of this arena for good. 

“They are persistent, I’ll give them that,” Dagdan muses. 

I feel rather than see my Father’s frown as he takes in all the chaos with the experience of a seasoned strategist. I know that he is calculating their odds, mapping out every possible outcome. I wonder if Cassian launching into the air, wings beating so hard to get him airborne that I feel a gust of hot air on my face, was part of his calculations? If he could have foreseen the blast of energy Cassian’s hurls into the Giant’s eyes, blinding him?

The Giant abandons his attempts at smashing them to grab at his eyes, large hands clawing at his sizzling flesh. The whole arena can smell burnt skin, but Cassian doesn’t let up, he aims blow after blow at the Giant’s head, until he finally falls over backwards, neck slamming hard against the already broken stone.

I look away, stomach in my throat as the resounding crack fills the amphitheater. 

The crowd roars in disbelief as Cassian tucks in his wings and descends back into the Pit. He hits the ground running, footfalls heavy in the mud as he rushes to Rhysand’s side. Azriel is not far behind him. With their combined strength, they manage to get Rhysand back on his feet. 

I pinch myself to make sure I’m awake. They’re alive!

Father stands and makes his way to the edge of the booth again. “For whatever reason, the Goddess has smiled upon you three today! Today, you will live. Let us hope you remain in Her favor.” He doesn’t sound super thrilled by the prospect as he turns his back to the crowd, slate gray eyes pinched as they fall to me.

“Walk with me.”

I stand, trying to keep my singed skirts in my hands so he cannot see the damage I’d done. Or the blood from my palms. If he suspects I was at all nervous for the outcome, I could ruin everything. I must keep my composure.

And not run down the stairs to the gates and throw myself at my mates like every fiber of my being screams at me to do. 

The guards follow as we exit the booth. In moments there will be chaos as beings scatter to find the Games Keepers and collect their winnings, or pay their debts, but for a moment, the crowd lingers in their seats, watching as the Illyrians are led out of the Pit.

“You embarrassed us today,” he hisses once we’re out of Amarantha’s earshot. The anger in his tone is enough to make me try and take a step away from him, but he throws an arm around my shoulders to keep me against his side. To any onlookers, we are just father and daughter having a chat. His voice is low enough that no one will hear the threats he hisses in my ear.

“You hide away in the River House for months, mourning a traitor who was plotting to overthrow me and now you make a spectacle of yourself! I should have you cast out into the streets!”

My only way out is to placate him. “I am sorry, Father.”

“Sorry,” he snarls, fingers digging tight enough into my shoulder to bruise. “Your apologies mean nothing! I swear, if you do not do everything you promised to do today, I will throw you into this arena! And I will use your own advice to keep you alive long enough to ensure you have a couple matches to prolong your suffering.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I meant what I said, Father.” Mostly. Perhaps I can secure passage for all of us out of here and we never have to think about the Empire again. The more I think about it, the more pleased I am with the idea. Yes, I just need to make it look like I am taking them as slaves, and once we’re out from the watchful eye of my Father, we can all run far, far away. Maybe I am more clever than I thought.

He leads us down the steps to a door that will eventually lead us to the gladiator cages and a guard swings open the heavy iron for us. Once we’re out from under the eye of the people, the rough stone walls closing in tight--a means to ensure none of the larger gladiators can make a run for the door and escape--he releases his grip on me. 

Torches line the walls casting his face in near shadow as he pauses at the bottom of a second, smaller, set of stairs. I shiver despite myself as the door slams shut, sealing me in. I suppose at this point I should be prepared, but I’m not, and when his open hand slams across my cheek I lose my balance and slip down the last two steps of the staircase. 

“Don’t ever question me again!” He hisses.

The guards pretend to not notice, as they always have.

I grit my teeth against the ringing in my ears, against the hot tears that threaten to escape me, focusing instead on carefully getting back on my feet. Stay down too long he’ll kick in my ribs like he used to when I was a child. Get up too fast and he’ll assume he hadn’t hit me hard enough. I put over emphasis into finding a handhold in the wall, making sure I keep my stinging cheek against my shoulder. The tremor in my hands is not feigned fear, I’ve been terrified of him my entire life, but I do exaggerate it just as my Mother taught me. 

“Spoiled brat!” He grumbles as he stalks forward into the tunnel. “I coddled you too much.”

I glare at his back once I’m sure he’s no longer looking at me. I hate him! I’ve hated him my entire fucking life. He’s ruined everything. Taken everything from me. Everything I’d ever loved he’d wiped off the face of the earth, all because I had the misfortune of being a female. All because he couldn’t have a precious son.

I grit my teeth so hard they hurt as I brush my skirts off and follow after him. I will be glad when I am finally out of his sight. Far, far away from this stupid Empire. At least I have mates; someone out in this Mother forsaken world who will care about me; who won’t hate me just for existing. At least there is one thing he can’t ruin for me.

I am too distracted with my thoughts to note the paths we take. I distantly hear the sound of injured men groaning, catch a whiff of filth and animal waste, but it’s all a blur. This will all be a bad dream soon. Soon I will have my mates and I will never have to deal with him again. I can be happy. I will be happy.

By the time he finally stops walking, I’ve schooled my features into a perfect mask; have brushed a few loose strands of hair in front of my face to hide the red mark across my cheek. He will suspect nothing until it is too late. Then he can have his precious Empire. It will be the only thing left he can control.

A guard opens what looks like a cage door, the iron old and rusted, and the guards that have been trailing behind us step in first.

“Against the wall!” They bark. 

There’s no light in the cell, just the flickering of the torch on the wall behind us. I don’t know what to expect.

“Fuck you, Imperial Pig!” Cassian.

I bite my tongue to keep back the grin that threatens to escape me, my mask slipping. He’s not so hurt that he can’t put up a fight. The thought warms something in my chest. Headstrong, stubborn, if the sound of scuffling coming from inside the dark cell is anything to go by, and sarcastic--everything I need to counter my reserved nature. I need that energy. I need him. The surety of that makes me square my shoulders. 

“Easy, Cass.” Rhysand. His voice is smooth as silk, even if the words are a little slurred. “We don’t want trouble.”

“The fuck we don’t!” Cassian shouts. “I’m no one’s fucking pet!”

The guard at the door, once sure the others inside are secure, steps away to grab the torch off its perch in the hallway, and sets it into an old rung on the inside of the cell, bathing the room in its soft glow. 

Father steps in first.

For a moment, I hesitate, heart in my throat. I need them. I need that strength I saw in the arena. Need that fire Cassian spews. The surety that Rhysand carries himself with. I need them. And if I show any sign of that, they're dead.

The guard, now back at the door, eyes me quizzically.

I draw a shaky breath and school my features back into a perfectly bored mask. 

I can do this.

I will do this.

I won’t let Hybern take anything else from me, no matter the games I have to play. 

I tell it to myself over and over as I step into the cell.

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

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[daisiesaredazy]

⛸️ Iceskating with You !

ᝰ REDACTED x FEM! reader .ᐟ✮⋆˙ (ft. the 14dwy cast)

SUMMARY ~ You decided to bring a certain hacker along for an impromptu group hangout at the ice skating rink, but he didn't exactly hit it off with any of your friends.

(REDACTED + (the others) belong to @14dayswithyou!)

[This story is written by ©daisiesaredazy, 2024 and in no way should be plagiarized or undergo any kind of use without my permission.]

(Throughout the fanfic, Ren’s true form/censored name, REDACTED, will be referred to as his nickname, Ren, because I prefer to use that as the placeholder for his real name lol)

(written in second person point of view)

❄️

༘⋆༄.°⋆ It was freezing outside, the frosty cold air biting on the tips of her ears. Yesterday, Y/N and her friends spontaneously decided to go ice skating over text. Of course, she couldn’t resist asking if her hacker boyfriend, Ren, could join, earning an annoyed text from Teo, complaining that they’d be too "lovey-dovey." Despite his protests, the group agreed.

“Ren, are you sure you’re not cold?” Y/N asked, her voice laced with concern as she glanced up at him. Her gaze softened when she noticed the pale snow drifting down onto his jet-black hair, dusting it like powdered sugar. He looked unaffected, a calm contrast to the winter chill.

Ren gave a small nod. “‘Told you I’d be fine, Angel. ‘Sides,” he added, pulling the hood of his jacket further over her head, shielding her face from the wind, “y’health ‘s more important.”

“But this is your jacket,” she argued, a hint of concern in her tone. “I’m already wearing one! You’ll get sick.”

Ren smirked, his snakebite piercings catching the light as his lips tugged upward. “Y’don’t have a hood. I’m more concerned ‘bout you, Angel. Y’might catch a cold.” His words mirrored hers playfully, and Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes but holding onto his arm, the tension easing as they walked together.

The two of them watched their friends, Jaehyun and Leon, who were causing a ruckus ahead of them. The pair were throwing snowballs at each other, their laughter filling the crisp air as they dodged and weaved in a mock battle. Elanor and Kiara were deep in conversation, planning their next sister vacation, while Violet had taken a mini pine tree with her, Teo—surprisingly—was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Teo?” Y/N murmured, furrowing her brows. She scanned the area, but the green-haired troublemaker was nowhere in sight.

Before she could voice her question again, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. “What, missed me, doll?” Teo appeared seemingly out of nowhere, walking casually behind them, his gaze fixed on the screen of his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. He seemed annoyed about something, probably yet another drama with one of the girls he had dated. His lips curved into a smirk at her concerned demeanor.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him, the usual playful exasperation flooding her expression. She didn’t even need to look at Ren to feel the subtle shift in his posture. His grip on her arm tightened just a little—protective, but still gentle.

She immediately regretted asking about Teo’s whereabouts.

Ren’s voice was quiet but laced with irritation as he spoke, his eyes narrowing in Teo’s direction. “Nah, y’not worth missing.”

Y/N shot him a pointed look. The words hung in the air for a moment, but before she could even speak, Ren’s tone softened. He blinked at her with wide, innocent eyes, putting on his best puppy-dog expression and pouting as he mimicked his old Haruko persona.

Y/N groaned and rubbed her temples. “Ren, please don’t…”

Teo scoffed loudly from behind them, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “If it isn’t buttercup trying to act all ‘cutesy’ again. Ugh, cringe.”

Y/N shot him an agitated look, and Teo leaned in, his smirk getting wider. “You’re just jealous ‘cause your angel definitely missed me.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed at the jab, his lips curling into a smug grin. “‘M jealous of how often y’forgotten the endless amounts of times y’been rejected by her. Maybe it’s t’save y’self from remembering how pathetic y’looked every single time.”

Teo’s brow twitched, clenching his fists. “At least I’m not a walking emo boy who looks like he time-traveled from 2010.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow and cut in to the heated argument with a comment. “Emos from 2010 were kinda hot, though…”

Ren’s eyes flicked to her, then back to Teo, and his grin grew. “Y’heard her.”

Teo scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes as if bored by the entire exchange. He shoved past Ren, his arm brushing against his in what was likely a calculated move. Without another word, he stalked off toward Jaehyun and Leon, the tension still thick in the air.

Ren’s hand didn’t leave Y/N’s arm, the warmth of his touch, a subtle reminder of his ever-present protectiveness.

Y/N couldn’t help but shake her head, caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation. Her friends were ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

“So… y’like emos from 2010?” Ren asked, his voice an innocent hum of curiosity, though his lips curled with something far more mischievous.

“No.” Y/N snapped instantly, hiding her face in her hands, wishing for a hole to swallow her up.

“‘Kay, sure, definitely,” he replied sarcastically, a smug smile on his face. He had just uncovered her deepest secret.

Y/N groaned, feeling the heat creep into her cheeks. Great. Just great.

❄️

Upon arriving at the ice skating rink, the group was quick to rent their skates, eager to get started. Meanwhile, Ren had already made his way over to the counter and returned with two pairs of custom ice skates—one for himself, and one for Y/N. On the blade of his skates was engraved, “Always with You,” and on Y/N’s were little angel wings on both blades.

“Ren, seriously?” Y/N raised an eyebrow as she glanced down at the pristine skates in her hands. “You bought us ice skates?”

Ren, unfazed, simply shrugged with a small smirk. “Yeah. So that next time we go skating—just th’two of us, no idio—distractions, y’have y’own pair.” He then gently guided her toward a bench and knelt in front of her, starting to untie her shoes to put the skates on.

Y/N could tell from the way he said it that he wasn’t all that thrilled about spending the day with the rest of the group. “Mhm, sure. But at least try to act like you’re interested in them,” she requested, glancing over at the others who were already having fun and joking around.

Ren looked up at her, his soft gaze locking onto hers as he continued adjusting the laces. “Anything f’you,” he said, his tone quiet but filled with sincerity. The words, simple yet heartfelt, made her smile despite herself. He had that way of making her feel like she was the only person in the world that mattered at that moment.

As he finished lacing her skates, Y/N stood, testing her balance. She wobbled a little, but before she could even reach for the bench to steady herself, Ren was already there, his arms encircling her waist in a steady grip. “Easy there,” he murmured, pulling her in close, her hands instinctively gripping his jacket as he led them to the ice skating rink.

“I’m fine, Ren,” she muttered, though she didn’t exactly mind the support—especially considering how unsteady she felt getting onto the ice. “Agh, nevermind! Hold me!” She cried for help, as Ren chuckled and assisted her immediately.

Just then, Elanor, Kiara, and Violet appeared. Kiara practically dragged her clumsy sister, Elanor, onto the ice, while Violet skated over in a burst of energy. Elanor exclaimed with an adorable smile, “Y/N, we need to take a picture! Come on, just one!”

Violet snapped her fingers, pulling out her phone, and wobbly attaching it onto a selfie stick. “Yeah, c’mon, it’ll be cute! Ren, you’re in this too, right?”

Ren looked at them through half-lidded eyes, his grip tightening slightly around Y/N as if to anchor her to him. “Mm, ‘m good right here,” he muttered, his voice a little too low to be convincing.

“Ren—” Y/N started to protest, but before she could finish, he was already tightening his arms around her, pressing her into him more securely.

“Just a sec,” he said, his voice muffled as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck, his face hidden in the soft fabric of her sweater. He inhaled deeply, taking in her scent like it was the most important thing in the world to him.

"Ren, we’re taking a picture! You can’t be clinging to me like this," she exclaimed, trying (and failing) to squirm out of his embrace.

Ren smirked, pulling her even closer. “Like they say, take a picture, it’ll last longer. ‘Want this moment t’last forever,” he whispered, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Ren, you adult baby, get off.” Y/N groaned, but the warmth of his body, his steady heartbeat against hers, and the way he refused to let go made it hard for her to be truly mad.

Kiara raised an eyebrow, before smiling for picture. While Violet, was already clicking away 0.5 selfies with her selfie stick. “Well, I guess this is the picture then,” she said, her tone amused, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

Elanor laughed, clearly not bothered by Ren’s possessiveness. “Hehe, it’s cute, honestly. Let loverboy have his moment in the backround.”

With that, Ren finally released his hold just slightly, pulling back enough for Y/N to catch her breath—though the sudden absence of his warmth made her feel oddly empty. As the picture was taken, he shot her a satisfied grin, his arms still loosely around her waist. “Y’not getting ‘way from me that easily, Angel.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the small grin tugging at her lips. "I’m sure of it. You're impossible."

Ren just smiled. “‘N you’re adorable.”

“‘Ight, everyone! Group photo!” Leon exclaimed with a grin on the other side of the rink as Jae-Hyun handed his phone over to a moody green-haired man—who seemed very unamused.

As they all gathered together for a group picture on the ice, Y/N practically had to beg Ren to let go, which he reluctantly did.

“Y’sure, Angel? Don’t want y’to fall,” he questioned with concern, his blue eyes eyeing intently at her, challenging her.

“I’ll be fine! Just watch—” 

Her confidence was short lived when she felt his arms slowly slip away.

“‘Kay, suit y’self.”

“Wait—!”

“‘M letting go.” He warned.

He released his grip around her waist, and she nearly fell right onto the ice. Instantly, she clung back onto him, and he softly chuckled. Y/N gave him a light smack to the arm.

“Ren!! You can’t just do that! You—should’ve warned me earlier!”

He hummed softly as he clung onto her again. His eyes glimmered with mischief. “‘N I did, didn’t I? ‘Told you that I’d let go.”

“Yeah!—but—”

“Okay, took the photo,” Teo muttered in annoyance as Y/N raised a brow. The others skated over to him, curiously staring at the phone.

“…Dude, my eyes are closed!” Violet complained.

“Mine’s are too,” Elanor pouted.

“It’s okay, you look cute either way, Princess,” Teo flirted, pinching Elanor’s cheek as she hopelessly looked at him with love in her eyes. Oh, how Y/N wished she could slap that idiot for toying with Elanor’s feelings… but something about the way he looked at her… seemed genuine.

“He totally has the hots for you!” Kiara whispered. She smirked at her sister, nudging her slightly as Elanor blushed. ‘She was way too good for him,’ Y/n thought, letting out a soft sigh of annoyance.

Y/N stared at the picture, and saw a horrendous photo of herself—nearly about to fall, eyes wide open, mouth agape, and foot in the air. She glared at Teo as she pointed it out. “Why do I look like that?! You didn’t even tell us you were taking it!”

Teo scoffed. “Whatever. Not my problem you look like that.”

Ren yanked the phone from Teo, deleting the picture, and handed the phone back with narrowed eyes and a fake smile.

“Retake it.”

Begrudgingly, Teo retook the picture, but not without muttering negative words. Shortly after, Teo suddenly disappeared—probably because things weren’t going quite his way—Leon quickly went on a mini search mission. He found Teo off to the side, moping like a kid who hadn’t gotten his way at the candy store. Leon somehow managed to talk him back into staying with the group, which he hesitantly agreed.

Unfortunately, for Y/N, the struggle wasn’t over yet. She was still clinging to the metal handrail, trying (and struggling) to find her balance on the ice. Ren was close beside her, his warm presence offering both support and comfort as he held her other hand.

"Ugh, I used to do this all the time when I was a kid! I swear, I could even do twirls and stuff!" she groaned in frustration, her skates wobbling beneath her.

Ren chuckled softly, his voice dripping with teasing affection. "’M sure y’could, Angel. No doubt ‘bout it."

Y/N shot him a sideways glance, not quite convinced but grateful for his reassurance. Violet skated past them effortlessly, her mini pine tree—affectionately named “Jerry”—still tucked safely in her arms.

"Aw, don’t worry, bhe! You’ve got this! Just gotta practice the movements, and you'll be back to twirling in no time, just like Jerry over here!" Violet called over her shoulder with a bright smile, before skating away. 

Ren and Y/N exchanged a glance, both eyebrows raised in mild concern. Ren muttered under his breath, “Twirling? ‘S she good? That’s a tree.” Y/n chuckled nervously. trying to steady herself against the railing. “T—that’s Vi for you!” 

Ren squeezed her hand tighter, sensing she was on the verge of losing her balance once more. “Careful, remember what I told you? Y’gotta waddle like a baby penguin, cutie.” mentions the raven headed man as you let out a soft laugh at his silly reminder.

Y/N caught sight of Kiara and Elanor, who were in the midst of a chaotic sisterly bonding session. Kiara was trying her best to keep her sibling from falling, but with Elanor's uncoordinated, deer-like movements, the two of them seemed locked in an endless battle against gravity.

"No, Norie! One foot in front of the other! Stop being so stiff!" Kiara was practically pleading.

"I—I can't! This is too hard—Wah!" Elanor’s voice cut off as she slipped, flailing in every direction to steady herself unsuccessfully before she falls. But just as quickly, a familiar green-haired figure appeared, catching her effortlessly before she could hit the ground. It was Teo, his grin smug as ever.

Y/N couldn’t help but gasp at the scene. It was like something out of a drama, but when she realized it was Teo who had caught Elanor, her excitement quickly turned into mild discomfort. She cringed and turned away, focusing on the ice beneath her instead.

Ren noticed her shift in mood and raised an eyebrow. "What, ‘don’t think they’re suited f’each other?"

Reluctantly, Y/N shrugged, still watching Teo and Elanor as Kiara helped her sister regain her footing. "I dunno… it’s cute, but Teo—he’s always had this thing about messing around. I just don’t want him hurting El’s feelings."

Ren’s expression darkened for a brief moment, his gaze narrowing at Teo and Elanor before turning back to Y/N. He exhaled slowly, clearly uninterested in getting caught up in their drama. "Mhm. Got it…” before he mumbled under his breath inaudibly “‘don’t really care ‘bout them honestly."

He shifted his focus back to her. his tone softening. "Think y’got enough practice with the handrails now, Angel. Let’s see what y’can do without 'em." He extended his hand toward her, and Y/N hesitated for a moment before placing her shaking hand into his. The warmth of his grip was steadying, grounding her in a way that made her feel safer.

With a gentle tug, Ren led her forward, skating backwards to guide her along the ice. "Doin’ great, Angel. Keep going," he encouraged, his deep voice full of confidence that seemed to seep into her own determination.

Her nerves calmed a little as his praise fueled her resolve. Slowly but surely, she took one shaky step after another, feeling the ice beneath her as she gained more control. She was far from graceful, but with Ren’s guidance, she was starting to feel like she might actually make it.

"That's it,” Ren praised. A smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he observed her movements. "y’doin’ awesome."

❄️

Laughter erupted from the group as everyone’s energy practically bounced off the ice. Y/n, after plenty of trial and error—and lots of practice with Ren—was finally getting the hang of skating. Her movements were becoming smoother, and the ice didn’t feel so treacherous anymore.

She skated over to Leon, grinning. “I can finally balance on the ice!”

“Congrats, darl'!” Leon exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with pride. “Knew you could do it! Never doubted ya!” He gave her a friendly pat on the back. But before she could even bask in the victory, Ren appeared, as expected, right behind her. He slid in with a shadow casted over his features, his hand finding her waist as he planted his head on top of hers, glaring over her shoulder at Leon.

“…Ren,” she said, trying to push him off gently, though her voice was tinged with frustration.

Ren uttered praises. “Y’already that independent? Huh, y’really are that amazing, Angel.”

She rolled her eyes, even as a fond smile tugged at her lips. “Okay, thanks—“

“Stay w’me, love.” His voice was soft, but there was an undeniable weight to his words. He kissed her lips, his arms tightened around her, and for a moment, Y/N felt the temptation to just give in.

But then, she reminded herself why she’d wanted a break in the first place. “Go talk to Jae-hyun and Teo. I’m just gonna catch up with Leon for a bit—”

“No.” Ren cut her off, his tone firm, almost stubborn. “I’m stayin’ w’you.”

Y/n huffed in exasperation, trying, but failing, to pry him off her. He was practically glued to her, like an accessory—scarf, hat, jacket, and all. No escape. He would find a way to be on her one way or another.

“Ren—!” She tried again, half-laughing in frustration.

“I only came here f’you,” he muttered into her hair, sounding almost desperate. “Nobody else matters. Don’ care ‘bout anyone else but you.”

“Ren.” Her tone was more pleading this time, but she could already tell he wasn’t going to budge. 

“Yes, Angel?” He asked innocently, as if he didn’t know exactly what she was trying to do.

She gazed up at him, wanting to cup his face and kiss him, she went against the urge. He needed to learn how to socialize properly with others. “Go talk to them. At least try to.”

Ren looked at her, his expression softening slightly, though he didn’t seem convinced. Then his protective nature kicked in again, and his jealousness flared up. 

“‘Can’t do it, Angel. ‘M afraid I failed already.” His voice was low, almost defeated as he nuzzled into her hair, and she groaned in frustration.

Leon, standing nearby with crossed arms, finally spoke up, his voice carrying a hint of concern. “Aye, Ron, mate. If you wanna go talk to my buddies, I can come with—”

Ren immediately shot Leon a sharp glare, cutting him off before the offer could even finish. “No thanks.” 

Y/n glanced back and forth between the two men, a mix of amusement and exasperation on her face. Sighing, she gently nudged Ren toward Teo and Jae-hyun, who were laughing and joking on the other side of the rink.

“If you behave,” she whispered with a sly grin, “I’ll spend the entire next week with you—just the two of us.”

Ren’s eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, he hesitated. But then, as if the words were magic, he immediately skated off in the direction of Teo and Jae-hyun, leaving Y/N standing there triumphant.

“Ahah, got him.” She couldn’t help but laugh to herself as she observed Ren join the other two.

Leon raised an eyebrow as he observed the exchange. “Sunfish, is he always that clingy with you? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s kinda sweet, but it’s also kinda… concerning.”

The h/c girl shrugged casually, though there was a slight flush on her cheeks. “He’s just very protective. He’s always looking out for me, making sure I don’t get hurt or anything.”

Leon gave her a skeptical look but nodded slowly. “I mean, I get it! But… he’s like a shadow.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Like I said, he’s just looking out for me. But he’ll get used to them… eventually.” She glanced over at Ren again, who was now engaged in some sort of heated discussion with Teo. 

“Anyways,” Leon said, clearly trying to change the subject, “you still had to finish your discussion from last week, remember?”

She grinned. “Yep! I’ll tell you allll about it.”

The two of them skated leisurely around the rink, catching up like they always had. The conversation flowed easily, covering everything from family updates to recent events and hobbies. 

But just as they were beginning to settle into the rhythm of their chat, a loud voice cut through the air, followed by a familiar heated argument.

“Your hairline’s gonna start receding ‘cause of all that bleach you put in your hair before, buttercup.” Teo taunted, a smug grin on his face.

Ren’s eyes narrowed dangerously, his voice cold and venomous. “Oh, really? ‘Least I’m not out here lookin’ like I stuck my head in a paint bucket, tryin’ t’look hot but ended up lookin’ like a neon green highlighter.” He shot Teo a scathing look. “Y’should be more worried about how much product y’using—y’about one bad move ‘way from y’scalp filing a lawsuit. Product buildup ‘s not cute.”

Teo’s face flushed, and he opened his mouth to retort, but Jae-hyun quickly stepped in, hands raised in a peacekeeper’s gesture.

“Dudes! You need to stop! Say, let’s make a TakTik!” Jae-hyun suggested enthusiastically.

Y/n shook her head with a half-amused, half-exasperated smile. Ren really doesn’t hold back, does he? You were glad to see that he was being his true self now.

The duo immediately skated over to the arguing males, who proceeded to throw insults at each other, while Jae-hyun set up his phone on the iron handrail, filming a dance with the chaos unfolding in the background.

Leon and Y/n exchanged a look, then turned back to the chaotic scene before them, both sighing in unison.

���️

After finally managing to pull the two males apart—amidst an impressive amount of bickering and a disoriented Jae-hyun, who had somehow ended up tangled in his own scarf—(nobody knows how), Y/N made a mental note to never, ever leave her hacker boyfriend alone with Teo ever again. 

As they exited the rink, Ren nuzzled her from behind, his arms wrapped around her waist as he practically dragged her along the pavement. 

“‘Missed you s’much, Angel,” he mumbled, his voice thick with affection, clearly ignoring how clumsy she was trying to walk in her skates.

“Mhm, yeah. Tell me about it,” Y/n replied, her tone unamused but carrying a hint of annoyance. She was still adjusting to the sensation of her skates on solid ground, her legs feeling like jelly.

“Please, don’t do that next time. I’m begging you,” she continued, turning slightly to glance up at him, her voice softening. “I swear, if you say something even remotely morbid or rude to any of my friends again, I will not be happy.”

Ren immediately straightened up, his expression a mixture of guilt and earnestness. “Right, ‘m sorry, ‘won’t happen again, love.” He nodded, head lowered, completely giving in to her request. His voice softened, full of warmth. “I’ll do anything f’you, Angel.”

She sighed, shaking her head but smiling nonetheless. The h/c female knew Ren was protective, but sometimes, his protectiveness veered a little too far into clingy. Not that she minded too much.

As they walked, her eyes caught sight of a few familiar faces near the entrance, standing outside with steaming cups of hot chocolate in their hands. Violet, Kiara, and Elanor waved at her as they saw the pair approaching.

“Hey! Finally out of there?” Violet called with a grin, the warmth from her drink visible in the chilly air.

“Yeah, thank goodness,” Y/N let out a sigh of relief, flashing a tired but amused smile. “Ren and Teo nearly started World War III in there.”

Ren let out a sigh, though he shot Teo a pointed look from the distance. “‘Wasn’t startin’ anything. He started it.”

Kiara chuckled, handing Y/N and Ren a cup of hot chocolate. “Here. Maybe this will help calm you guys down.”

Thanks,” Y/N muttered gratefully, taking the warm cup. She glanced over at Ren, her lips curving into a soft smile. “So, what’s next? You planning on causing more trouble, or are we actually gonna enjoy the night now?”

Ren smirked, pulling her a little closer with his arm around her shoulders. “‘M fine as long as I get t’be with you, Angel. ‘S long as there’s no more hair drama and Teo, ‘m happy as can be.”

With a sigh, Y/N took a sip of her hot chocolate, the warm, rich sweetness doing its job of relaxing her after the chaos of the evening. Ren’s arm felt solid around her, and she was grateful for the comfort, even if his clinginess could be a little overwhelming at times.

“You know,” she broke the silence, glancing up at him with a half-amused look, “sometimes I wonder if you’re more trouble than the rest of them combined.”

Ren raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a teasing grin. “Only when y’not around, love.”

She only rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. She glanced back at the group, who had finally settled down. Jae-hyun was filming something ridiculous with Teo and Leon, their earlier arguments long forgotten in the wake of new shenanigans. 

Violet, Kiara, and Elanor stood nearby, each holding a hot chocolate, chatting and laughing. It felt like everything had come full circle—the chaos of earlier fading into a quiet, easy warmth. 

“Ready t’head home?" Ren asked, noticing the soft yawn that escaped Y/N’s lips.

"Yeah, I think it's about time! And honestly, I'm freezing," she admitted, shivering slightly.

Ren leaned in closer, wrapping his arms around her to pull her in. "’M gonna help keep you nice and toasty f’the next week. After all, y’promised that if I talked to those two… well, you'd spend the whole week w’me."

"Oh, right. I did say that, didn't I?"

Ren chuckled, but Y/N’s attention shifted to the side. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Elanor and Teo with their arms wrapped around each other. A soft smile tugged at her lips as her gaze met Ren’s, her eyes meeting his with a quiet understanding.

“…I think I’d like that.”

❄️

On the walk back to Y/N’s apartment, Ren held her hand, warming it up by blowing on it and kissing her knuckles. She let out a soft puff of laughter.

“Ren, what are you doing?”

“Nothin’. Just wanted t’kiss y’cute hands,” he teased.

Ren paused, before he smirked, a joking look on his handsome face. “‘Just got an intrusive thought n’ thought I’d share. Don’t y’think ice skates would make a good mvrder weapo—”

“No.”

⛸️ / the end! (if there’s any grammar errors let me know! thank you for reading<3)

[lesbiansforboromir]

Here's a more compact review of the War of the Rohirrim film for anyone interested! SPOILERS AHEAD!!

Positives;

The backgrounds were all very beautifully painted and the lighting really elevated the character design and smoothed over the janky animation. Where other aspects of the film fall off, often the background artistry and lighting over all of it still manages to convey a very dramatic and immersive moment to the viewer. It's probably the best part of the film.

The part where Helm's ice-ghost phase is teased was really cool and atmospheric and I got a little thrill of what I'd kind of always been wanting from this film.

Frealaf was pretty lovely (what little we got of him) and I appreciated that his darker skin tone was implicitely associated with his Gondorian heritage. I THINK I appreciate the idea that Frealaf's father was Gondorian, though I wish it had been better utilised.

I also really liked the moment where Helm is about to fight Freca and he gives his crown, signet ring and mantle over to Frealaf in this like... symbolic giving up of his Kingship in this moment where his actions are about to make him unworthy of it.

I appreciated Olwyn existing as an older female character in a purely action based roll.

Helm's voice actor and design were pretty cool, I came around to enjoying how much effort they put into making him extremely imposing.

Hama being a twink who was born to be a bard but forced to be a heroic second prince was a nice touch.

General Targg of Dunland might have been my favourite character, inspite of the fact that I am really curious to know where this organised military of Dunland is for him to reach the rank of 'General' in.

Negatives;

Gurl the racism. See here for more details.

The overall narrative seems to me direly lacking in like... basis. I am lead to believe Hera's journey is about her reclaiming her right to choose her own life for herself. But she is never actually pressured into any choice, nor does it appear that her father ever restricted her freedom in any way. So I don't really see where her choices were actually removed to such a degree. If her desire is to see her choices respected by the men in her life, well that never happens for either Helm nor Wulf, who force her to let them die or to kill them, respectively. It feels like in their rush to censor any negative aspects of Helm they kind of removed the reason Hera is frustrated in the first place, he cant be TOO much of a misogynist etc etc.

This is twisted up within 'gurl the racism' but Wulf's manner and presentation make me FEEL like he is a villain we are supposed to mildly feel for? We see him as a child, we see him struggle with what he's doing, we see his clear desperation and despair and hear him talk about loneliness and suffering... but at the end of the day in the way that it is presented Wulf is fundamentally foul and deluding himself and all his problems appear to be of his own making. In general it is extremely uncomfortable for the 'obsessive stalker' villain to also every now and then say 'I am devastated because of how my dunlending blood has been prejudiced against all my life by your family and the wider rohir society' like... by only him mentioning it but it never being actually acknowledged by anyone else it just comes across so shallow and unsettling.

This is a review from my book-biased perspective so understand it within that lense but still gurl... the lore. What the hell do you mean the eagles speak a language only a wizard can understand? No they can just speak! What do you mean there is A watcher in the water in some undisclosed lake in Rohan somewhere? There is one Watcher and it's name is very specific to the doomed Moria expedition! At least give this new squid fellow a rohir name. Speaking of!!

IS IT SO HARD TO NAME ROHIR CHARACTERS IN..... ROHIRRIC?? OLD ENGLISH IS RIGHT THERE... HERA HAS NO MEANING... THERE ARE SO MANY COOL HISTORICAL ANGLO SAXON PRINCESSES YOU COULD CHOOSE FROM...

Included in the 'gurl, the lore' segment but in need of it's own post so I will try to be brief; (Theoden voice) where was Gondor... when a herd of Mumakil were marched by Haradrim mercenaries across the Anduin, up through the Pelennor, across Calenadhon and over Rohan's southern border... did they sneak by... were they stealth Mumakil, did they have elven cloaks too.

But also Where Was Gondor just in general. Like to the detriment of the actual narrative, opening up plot holes that didn't even need to be there, the fact that Gondor is ALSO supposed to be at war right now is completely ignored and discarded.

THE BATTLE OF EDORAS... TF ARE YOU ALL DOING! Like I know it is kind of hypocritical of me to request sensible war tactics when we're adapting Tolkien, he did not give a good example, but like... where were the horse archers, why are you charging down an infantry-only army, why even be on a horse if you aren't going to use greater mobility to your advantage, this isn't a siege, this is YOUR territory this is an open field!! Come on! AND ANOTHER THING, did we really have to make the victory of the Dunlendings over Edoras so disconnected from their own effort? Like betrayal is fine, but this was also a well supplied and competant force, and that was a major part of their victory. These were matched combatants! Just kind of another way in which the dunlendings were robbed of any cohesive motive, narrative or skill.

To my admittedly untrained eye... the animation sucks? Like it's clunky and janky and you can see the frames transitioning between each other, the movements often feel awkward and a lot of the drawings are just bad! The Eagles are SO stiff, as are the horses which seems like a cardinal sin in the Horse Lord Film. And then I couple that with the multiple completely unnecessary spinning camera shots Hera gets which are annoying, superfluous and a bizarre thing to spend time on when the rest of the film needs so much more care and attention. In general the GULF of difference between how beautiful the backgrounds are vs how bland the character art is is kind of jarring.

Hera's design.... I hate it. Look I know it's anime but DID Hera have to have thigh high boots... did she really... Why is she so pale if she's supposedly riding sleeveless across the vast countryside everyday? Can a single supposedly feminist film about a 'wild' female protagonist let that woman be like... dirty, or not so agonisingly thin, or give her messy or god forbid short hair. At one point when she is grabbed by a troll and hung in the air they linger uncomfortably long on her ass which her costume design is specifically designed to allow for maximum viewing detail.

The designs of the Dunlendings, Haradrim and especially the Mumakil are all so grim. Like I liked Freca's design to a degree, it was more potent with symbolism and patterning and such, but the rest of it is just SO FUCKIN- well they're ugly! and therefore evil! Do you get it? The ugly grey animalistic people are evil! The Mumakil have literal red snake eyes just so you know they're 'evil animals'. I can't take it anymore, at one point the guy who Eomer throws a spear at in the trilogy just... turns up, like it's literally just him down to the facepaint. And speaking of...

SHUT UP ABOUT THE PJ TRILOGY, SHUT UP AB- besties this film's intro plays alongside the ring theme... THE RING MUSICAL THEME!!!!?? Lines from the films are reused so often and so WILDLY outside of their actual context and meaning that it makes me flinch.

There is a plump little fellow called Leif who is the royal Page I think and everytime someone called Freca fat in such a vitriolic way I was like wow... I mean Leif is right there guys!

Overall a 4/10 from me, it is a watcheable but shallow film that I suspect was more of a cynical attempt by Warner Bros to keep their death grip on the rights to the books, since I think they would have expired if they didn't do something with them soon.

[hadesoftheladies]

female separatism isn’t about preference or “hating men.” i wish people would understand that separatism is vital to our health as women right now. one of the biggest things patriarchy has taken from us is MOBILITY and HEALTH. can you imagine a world where you wouldn’t be harassed for wanting to be tended to by only women? where female doctors and nurses that knew and prioritized female biology tended to you? streets where you could stroll and not feel a sliver of self-consciousness. where walking didn’t have to be a performance or a race from a man whistling at you?

i used to love going down to the river running at the bottom of the hill where my grandmother’s house sat. now I start to see more and more farm boys and farm men bathing in the spots I loved to rest in. I can’t be free even out there in the country. I have to be chaperoned. go in twos and threes. I can’t WANDER. i can’t run into the wild or bathe in the river. I can’t bask shirtless in the sun.

do women know how physically constrained we are? in corsets and brad and tight dresses because we must always prioritize aesthetics over happiness. we conflate approval and relief for joy. it drives me mad when I see the freedom men have. how wide their strides. how they can break out in a wrestle. how they aren’t taught to deform their bodies. how they are encouraged to nurture their physical power.

I wanted to go to the gymn by my neighbourhood, and my dad got annoyed with me. because it wasn’t safe. the only other segregated gymn in my whole city is miles away and unaffordable.

I taste separatism every time i sleepover at one of my sisters or we go on a retreat together. we can say anything. we relax. we bond and listen to each other. in all our different personalities.

but when there’s men in the conversation, everything becomes tedious. the banter becomes low hanging fruit. the conversation becomes competitive and thoughtless. it’s all about saying the most ludicrous thing for attention. it drags into politics of the worst kind.

and it poisons relationships. my sisters get a little meaner about other women. it’s so subtle and quick you wouldn’t notice it.

I long to be able to reach for women in history and not hunt for their names. not wade through the stories of their husbands or fathers before getting to them. I long for a world where female artists didn’t have to prostitute themselves for the male gaze, didn’t have to cripple their work by being nice to men.

even now in the modern age where information is more accessible than ever, you have to cut through so much noise to get to the voices of women. you have to cut through sob stories for killers and rapists before you get to the victims. you have to wade through male greats to get to their female predecessors.

if men aren’t talking over women, women are quieting themselves or too busy clamoring for another man’s attention, because his approval is power.

I want to show up to work without being condescended by a man who feels threatened by me. I am tired of censoring myself for male comfort.

who would I be, what could I do, if my movement, my body, my self-determination was not constantly suppressed. how many thoughts have I not allowed myself to think because the cost of speaking was too inconvenient?

cutting off male friends that violated my boundaries has already improved my quality of life, what would happen if I could be free of all of them?

I’d be healthier. happier. I’d be so much happier.

[engiebabey]

I yearn for cg medic content

Please 🙏

:3

baby's first ask!!! every1 always focuses on medic's literal medical aspects of his traits, but i like to think of him as a soft little nerd so here's some hc i have !! (+ a little blurb at the end expanding on one of them)

warnings: mention of an autopsy, mentions of bones, use of "papa"

this is so long btw i got carried away

despite a lot of hcs i see that medic is a huge poor meow meow, i do actually think he is more on the stern side when it comes to being a cg!

has rules for you to follow, and if you're a little older in your regression (4+) he may expect you to be able to clean up toys, use manners, etc.

likes to be called papa (because he is german) but if you don't like that then he also enjoys being called "doctor"

tbh i think he cares more about you getting not hurt for the emotional aspect instead of the physical. he knows he could heal you up with the medigun whenever he wants, he just doesn't need his baby to feel the pain if he can prevent it

reads so many books (this man is a huge dweeb ik) and really likes relaxing by sitting you on his lap and reading stories to you. will do all the funny voices, too

very into touching your face?? since so much of his life is spent focusing on other's body parts i think he's grown to love the features of those he adores because he's able to study them

will let you color in old reports and pictures of x-rays/autopsies he's done (censored, of course) and has a special folder for them

very big teacher. will teach you your own bone names, how many you have, and if you're on the older side he may even attempt to teach you cpr or quiz you on the things he teaches. he thinks it's important to know your body.

he knows he is very busy :( so he has a special corner in the medbay for you! little table for you to sit at, a crib if you're extra tiny, a bookshelf and everything! i imagine it's a bit like the kiddie corners they have at libraries for those who want to read and relax

does not trust a lot of the other mercs to babysit for you (because he has a lot to do and can't always watch you). engineer and heavy are the only main ones, though he does surprisingly trust spy enough to keep an eye on you

speaking of which, NO SCOUT !! he gets so worried about you so easily that he has a silly rule that scout can only hang with you if there is at least one responsible adult around

will play toys with you, and actually prefers it! he thinks that the engagement is nice and spending time with you in a way you enjoy is important to him.

huge on physical touch. he doesn't really like wearing his gloves when he touches you because it makes him feel disconnected from you, like you're a patient. will do the old man thing where he pinches your cheeks and pretends to eat you

lets you sit on his lap whenever he's just doing paperwork or hanging out. surprisingly clingy toward you but its cute!

little blurb i wanted to write about the teaching thing bc im so insane about it actually

warnings: mentions of bones, use of "papa"

"Alright, liebling. Now, do you remember how many bones are in that tiny body of yours?" Medic asks, poking a finger at your tummy. You giggle, looking upwards as you think.

"Two hundred.. two hundred and..." you trail off, unable to remember. You frown for a second. What did Papa tell you last time?

Smiling, he leans over from his sitting spot to whisper in your ear. "Two hundred six!" you shout, proud of yourself for giving the right answer, even if he helped.

"Very good, schatz!" he claps for you, your face breaking into a grin. Medic pulls out a piece of paper from behind him, and a pack of crayons. You squeal as he sets them down in front of you.

"Let's play a game," he starts. "Papa will point out a part of this body, and if you get it right, you may color it in. How does that sound?" When you nod frantically in response, he leads his finger to a part on the bottom half. "What's this?"

"Leg." you smile and grab a green crayon, excited to win your game.

divider by @aquazero, banner by me!

[firestorm09890]

stray canto vii part 1 thoughts (warning: long)

so many cool new designs!! it made me realize how few of interest we got in Canto VI. Then almost everything was pretty standard (classic maid and butler outfits, lots of suits, Cathy had a fancy dress at least? and everything was brown. yes I know, T Corp color drain, but still. and Öufi came before season 3 ended so that didn’t count), but this time we have Camille, the P Corp guys, Fanghunt Office, Hugo I guess, Hong Lu’s sister, the firefist guy? if he counts? he barely appeared, Sansón, and all the fancy dressed up bloodfiends. woo babey!!

speaking of Jia Xichun, I like her! She’s cute! I didn’t expect to see anyone related to Hong Lu, but in retrospect I probably should’ve, since his turn is next and his family is massive. I hope nothing bad happens to her. I've never read Dream of the Red Chamber

also speaking of Hugo, lol. lmao. when he was talking about pressing the button to get the reward I was like “oh hopkins 2, got it” and then Ryōshū sliced off his hands so I guess… not hopkins 2

ALSO the blonde Fanghunt guy is named Romero, which is apparently the name of a character in Vampire: The Masquerade. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was an intentional reference

Sinclair cursing that one guy out was so awesome. I remember when Canto V part 2 came out and he censored himself saying “Bitch Brother” people were worried that the new translators were making him softer than he actually was, but, nah, he tries his best to be a polite boy but when he’s actually genuinely pissed off he does not hold back. Ryōshū correcting him BUT THEN SAYING HIS INTERPRETATION WAS GOOD absolutely killed me. my son demands respect

it’s a good day to be a Leviathan fan

The scripted loss encounter was so cool. They set you to level 45 no matter what level your LCB Don is, and take away all your EGO except the base (which you can’t even use), and I don’t know how far you can actually get in this fight because I flipped tails every single time and lost every clash

let’s talk about the Barber! leave it to Project Moon to look at the character who didn’t have very much of a personality who stuck around with the priest and attempted multiple plans to bring Don Quixote back home so he could become sane again (and burned a bunch of Quixote’s chivalry books, also with the priest), and turned him into an insane vampire woman with big scissors and a shrill cackle who stitches masks onto people’s faces.

interesting choice to have Sancho and Dulcinea both named in a single line and then not acknowledged or mentioned again

Sansón! so based on his story log portrait background being bisexual, the blue name, and him resembling someone in Demian’s group in the Limbus Company PV, I feel confident saying he’s part of Demian’s Group. The spot where his Sign would be is covered by his mask, though, so no one in-universe knows

I think this is why Sinclair was cast in the role of the Knight of the White Moon: he also has the sign, which Sansón (who is the Knight of the White Moon) would be able to see, and even if other sinners have it too, they’re not Demian’s special guy. everyone else, though, seemed to be cast in the most humiliating role possible: horse to be ridden for Gregor, wild animal for Heathcliff, random peasant for Rodya, presumably homeless old person for Outis

ok Sansón. in the book, he’s a young college student who read the first part of Don Quixote and, in part 2, approaches Quixote saying he’s a big fan and encouraging him to go back out and do more knight stuff. However, he actually just thinks Don Quixote’s antics are very amusing and isn’t actually an earnest supporter, and is conspiring with the barber and priest to get Quixote back home to stay. the way they (priest and barber try to bring him home in part 1 is by tricking him with an adventure that’s conveniently in the same direction as their home village, but then they get sidetracked in an inn for a long time so they just put him in a cage and drive him home. in part 2, they want to play on Quixote’s terms for a more effective result. near the beginning of the second part, they have Sansón dress as a knight (called the Knight of Mirrors/Knight of the Forest. these titles have no significance in the book but apparently the mirror thing forces Quixote to see himself as the frail old man he is in Man of La Mancha), say his lady is fairer than Dulcinea to get Don Quixote to duel him, and then make Quixote promise to stay home for a year when he loses. however, Sansón is the one who loses, because he wasn’t expecting Quixote to actually be good at jousting. Later, near the very end, which iirc is 3 months after the first encounter, another knight called the Knight of the White Moon issues the exact same challenge to Don Quixote (it’s just Sansón again, and "White Moon" has no significance in the original book either), but this time Sansón wins, so Don Quixote goes home, dejected, and then becomes “sane” again and dies.

Since this Sansón is part of Demian’s group, I don’t think his intentions will be the same- the Barber was a bloodfiend, and he sees beyond the ambitions of the bloodfiends now- but it’s fun to know how he is in the source nonetheless

I really like how he didn’t show up after the Barber’s defeat to say something cryptic and then leave, he told us quite a bit, and though his methods were… questionable, he DID force the sinners to actually finally pay attention to Don Quixote

speaking of the stage play, I like the juxtaposition between Sansón’s play and the Barber’s. in a different context, what Sansón did might’ve been framed as horrifying, and we’d be talking about how uncanny and unreal this is, but I don’t think that’s the intention here. the sinners might be playing roles, and all the enemies are cardboard cutouts, but it’s better than putting targets on real people (though I guess they’re not “people”, they’re bad, bad, bloodfiends). the cheerful music in La Manchaland is distorted and out of place, while the stage play is nice in comparison. the music for the talking sections is a bit too upbeat for the situation, but the music during the battles really immerses you. guitar! trumpet! maraca! this music is clearly composed to emulate spanish music, and it’s very earnest, which I think is important, with how easily music sets tone in media.

in both cases, Don Quixote is in a delusion. nothing in the stage play of her adventures is real, but she’s also completely wrapped up in the narrative of evil bloodfiends without the knowledge that she is one. a violent nightmare and a peaceful dream, both of which she needs to wake up from.

they both do this thing with black-and-white thinking, too. there’s a difference between the “good” bloodfiends, which you should get along with, and the “bad” ones, which you need to kill (though Don sees them both as bad), and then the bandits in the stage play are cartoonishly evil and love to bully the weak. except it seems the first is the narrative the Barber wanted to sell, while the second is Don Quixote’s reality… I mean, the play is definitely inaccurate, but we’ve seen how Don behaves

if you follow me for kingdom hearts and are for some reason reading this you know how much I love Nobodies in kh. people who used to be human, but aren’t anymore, who look close enough but are different on an intrinsic and physiological level, that everyone automatically treats as unreasonable monsters that need to die when they’re more complicated than that… I love it so much, I’m cheering and clapping whenever bloodfiend morality is brought up. Moses said that Larierre was cordial and offered her a place to sit and talk, but then also said bloodfiends are insatiably hungry and you shouldn’t underestimate them. agh I love it

also THE MUSIIIIIC every fight theme so far has been a banger. songs that were already good but with typical carnival instruments, big brass swing, the aforementioned nice spanish music, and the fucked up and evil sequel to dubstep electroswing featuring evil laughter

and finally, the helm of mambrino. in early part 1 of Don Quixote, he sees a barber (COMPLETELY unrelated barber to the other barber btw) carrying a basin on his head, and thinks it’s the amazing mystical Helm of Mambrino, so he attacks the barber and steals the basin. Don Quixote wears it as a helmet a few times and everyone thinks it looks really stupid. they did not fight a bear for it, nor did they go into a cave. idk what this might actually be in the City. either we’ll see or we won’t

[sabrinbrin]

To no one's surprise the theme park nerd whose favourite character is the little purple mascot has fallen in love with the video game about a theme park with a little purple mascot. In addition to watching playthroughs and secrets videos about Indigo Park I also rewatched the character introduction video and noticed a few things: (spoilers for chapter 1 below!)

In Mollie's intro, UniqueGeese says that she's "a loyal bird who would do anything to protect her friends." This may be why she's the first one to face us, but also why she waits to take us down until after we fend off Lloyd. (While we technically don't see her head on until after then, she does show up multiple times on the train ride, including very close behind us in Lloyd's section, and probably could have killed us sooner if she wanted.) We weren't seen as a threat until our critter cuff causes Lloyd to flee in the theatre, and from there she may have decided to target us to try and protect everyone.

In the cast intro video UniqueGeese also speaks about how Mollie's his favourite, which makes it surprising that she's the first to die and makes me think that we're not done with her quite yet (though he did say on a recent livestream that we wouldn't be seeing her for the next few chapters, so this is just my speculation).

In Lloyd's intro, it states that he "struts across the stage with an air of arrogance that could rival any monarch. He's friends with the main cast, but he's really starting to push it." I think this may be why Rambley doesn't like him, and I wouldn't be surprised if we learn that other members of the cast dislike him too.

For some reason, Finley's intro censors that he collects sea shells. While it's understandable that some info aside from his name and image would be censored to preserve some mystery prior to the game's release, it strikes me as odd because it seems like a small and innocuous detail when stated in chapter 1. As well, Salem, a character who we are shown a lot less of and is still shrouded in mystery, has no extra details censored from their intro.

Not lore related but Salem uses they/them pronouns! Just wanted to add it because I've seen people online asking about their gender.

Speaking of Salem, their intro says that they're "quick, cunning, but try to hide it with their 'punk' exterior." Being quick and cunning don't strike me as things to be hidden with a punk exterior, and while I may just be looking deeper where I shouldn't, this leads me to think that Salem may have a softer side we haven't seen yet. This combined with the later note that they "can use countless inventions to get out of a sticky situation" makes me think that they may actually help us later on, despite their actions in the arcade game showcasing them as a villain.

My only note for Rambley is that his intro states he can get "a bit too excited, [but he's] always there for his friends" which fits what we've seen so far. I think he's trustworthy and just happy to see someone back in the park, and that if he does turn on us it will be against his will (though this is my own speculation and not from the intro).

Not from the character intros, but in another video (specifically the one about the knockoff merch), UniqueGeese says that we receive an item from Rambley in chapter 1 that will be used a lot more later on in the game. I think it's safe to say that's the critter cuff (as it's the only item we get from Rambley directly), and I'm curious to see what more it can do – so far, we know it can get us into various areas, fend off attacking mascots with a specific frequency (from Lloyd's encounter), and will eventually be able to resuscitate us (possibly being a checkoff's gun to be used later).

[cosmic-spider]

Jax x mexican fem reader

He finds you accent funny( if you have one.) especially when you pronounce stores and other thing.

 He finds it funny when you don’t remember the name of something and you just say  agárra me el dese.(get me the thing) it makes him giggle a bit every time.

On the other hand, he does hate it whenever you take off your shoe and start hitting him with it. (He still doesn’t understand how a slipper or a shoe can become a lethal weapon in less than two seconds.)

He still doesn’t understand how you’re able to hit him perfectly on the head when he’s trying to run away from you before you hit him.( later on starts to ask you how to do it so you can hit other people from far away for a prank)

He loves it whenever you sing in your language either in front of the others, or even just by yourself in your room when you think no one is listening to you.( Not that he will ever tell you he dose)

He keeps your room key very close to him at all times in case he hears you start singing in your room by yourself so he can just come in and or peep through the door and listen to you sing.

I also find it fascinating on how many different ways you can dance just one song. Still doesn’t understand how you can move your feet so fast or so fluently especially your hips.

Almost ever fight the two of you have is just you getting pissed off of his jokes, and you cussing him out in Spanish, which were some reason Caine has not censored. Then him yelling at you saying “I don’t speak Taco Bell! “And then you just get pissed off and just start hitting him with your slippers/shoe.

He does love your cooking on the other hand not that he would actually tell you directly. Every now and then he’ll give a comment, saying it was good, or nice. Will eat through the pain of the spicy food. ( Will be drinking so much milk and water that he can find the moment he get out of you eyesight.)

Still doesn’t understand the nickname you call him by conejo morado.( purple bunny)

As a s/o

Loves it whenever you come to his defense and cuss whoever is bothering him. It warms is heart seeing you do that. You’re actually defending. He covered his face whenever you ask him if he’s OK since he’s blushing under the covered up part of his face with his hand.

Find that funny whenever something goes wrong on the dates that you make for the two of you.

Some of the stories about how you grow up and how your siblings active during parties in for piñata’s terrifying him.

Especially since he’s not a kid person. He could just imagine the horror trying to take care of kids that Literally run around and hit each other over candy that comes out of a piñata.( Wonders how you even survive that growing up)

Find the face smashing into birthday cake, tradition hilarious. Wants to try it on you until you told him the story where you literally gave your cousin a blackeye because of it.( things twice about ruining your birthdays now.)

Purposely does things to piss you off just so you can cause I’m out in Spanish he just stays there and looks at you with a smirk, face and flirts with you more to get your even more pissed off try to run away afterward, but gets hit in the head with a slipper.

Absolutely adores it  whenever you make  pan dulce (Mexican sweet breed.) Hid favorite is conchas, galletas, cono, y poquito with some coffee in the morning.

Finds the stories, you tell him about cookouts, funny and entertaining, especially on long and boring days that he has or when you tell him that someone got into a fight.

Both of you start drama and problems for the others. Then watch it on falls on the sidelines. 

Is always impressed on how fast you can run whenever someone gets abstracted. ( like he’s a rabbit and he can run pretty fast, but damn, can you out run him any day)

Hates it whenever you start the cleaning ritual every Sunday or what you believe. It’s a Sunday.(especially when you start singing and blasting music out of nowhere, or when you go into his room, even though he had all the keys and other ways to get into his room.) Its his nightmare

[loganswdc]

hi y’all !! i’m getting to my inbox messages , i promise , but i saw that it's been confirmed that logan and j*mes aren't on speaking terms , and that's genuinely insane to me . and yes i will be censoring his name from now on because i am pissed off !!!

especially considering how chipper j*mes has been recently , piping up on logan's radio as often as he can to tell him how wonderful he's doing after that article . i'm not saying it isn't true ; it's been confirmed by marcus ericsson on the swedish podcast viaplay F1 .

i personally find it ridiculous to see that a team principal is no longer speaking with his own driver . that , for whatever reason , he dislikes logan so much that it's lead to this . and the mistreatment of logan will continue . just wait until we find out in two weeks that alex's new teammate isn't logan , and better yet logan might even be replaced after the summer break . it's absolute heinous for him to be continuously treated this way , and it's absolutely infuriating . to see logan continue to be treated like this makes my blood boil . i genuinely am beginning to believe that they only kept logan on the team because of the fanbase and american sponsors he brought in . and to think that could be true is actually insane . it's incredible to me that a team principal can be so conceited that this is what his relationship looks like with a driver . that he only speaks to him and is kind for pr reasons , as we've clearly seen . and it makes me both so sad and so pissed off for logan . he genuinely deserves SO MUCH better .

the quote from the podcast , as has been translated to english , is as follows:

"I was also told this weekend by some American friends who know Sargeant that it is... He doesn't have fun in that team either. He thinks it's really hard and apparently so are he and James Vowles. They don't even talk to each other, it's hardly that they greet each other. There has been a complete disconnection between them."

please excuse any errors that may have transpired through translation ; i don't know swedish and had to use an online translator !

here is a link to a twitter post where the quote above is said (again , in swedish): https://x.com/F1_Tracktion/status/1815802308208254998

if anyone speaks swedish and can better translate the quote , please do ! it would be greatly appreciated so i can update the translation and i'll be sure to credit you for it !!💓

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Okay I just watch digital circus because of your post and it was a blast and I love the character and the idea of a scenario came to me

Caine, Pomni, Jax, Ragatha, with an actor reader who loves to play into the adventures and play NPCs to set up the immersion maybe even write up some ideas for Adventures to make things more fun

Anyways have a great day night whatever and thanks for the fun writings

Thank you! Hope I did your ask justice!

Caine, Pomni, Jax and Ragatha x Reader who makes NPCs and writes

Caine

★ He really appreciates your help! It's hard work making up games for everyone to play while taking into account everyone's preferences. No matter how much you protest, he will use each and every idea you come up with.

★ Caine sets up a little studio for you to work in. It's filled with paper, multiple typewriterband all sorts of art supplies. Maybe some clay for you to build some models of a character you want to create?

★ You're NPCs are always great and often end up being a hit with the others. By that I mean the gang tolerates them more than his NPCs. You manage to give them more personally than he could have ever given.

★ If you somehow get Zooble to join in the fun he will congratulate you for doing a good job. His hat is off to you, you did something he thought was impossible. Now only if you could get Zooble to stop trying to swear...

★ I know the NPCs don't have any ai but Gooseworx confirmed that Bubble is a much simpler AI created by Caine. Therefore, he can theoretically make one of your characters come to life.

Pomni

★ At first she thought that the characters you make were real people. Once you told her that they were nothing but glorified puppets she had to question the sentience of everyone she's met so far.

★ You gotta make this girl a therapist. Aside from that it doesn't take her long to start asking questions about why you like to make different characters and stories.

★ She's not as creative as you, doesn't really understand the appeal of creating something like you do. The most she can do is come up with a few names.

★ Despite knowing that they aren't real people, Pomni still apologizes to the NPCs. It's force of habit. Maybe you could add some dialogue for if/when someone apologizes for something?

★ If we're being completely honest, she doesn't really like any of the NPCs. It just feels wrong when she needs to talk to them for something. It's like speaking to one of those robotic pre-recorded messages over the phone.

Jax

★ He's extra mean to the NPCs you make, just because he can. He knows that they can't get offended or upset but he doesn't care. They will be getting pushed into the mud.

★ When you decide to scrap an old character he gladly helps. The moment you say you need to get rid of it he's reaching for the nearest baseball bat. No need to worry about cleaning up 👍

Jax when the NPC starts to annoy him

★ Jax thinks it's funny when you get upset over him being mean to a NPC because you've grown attached to some of them.

★After that he asks you what you plan to make next. Can you blame him for being curious? Jax wants to know what you're planning before anyone else. Don't worry, he can keep a secret.

★ As a "joke" he told you to try and make a NPC that Caine would need to heavily censor. Just to see what the ringmaster would do. Whatever you made that day was thrown into the cellar.

Ragatha

★ She likes to watch you make different characters for certain situations. Caine wants to set up a fishing adventure? Best believe you are making an NPC who's a fisherman to set up the immersion.

★ You might overwork yourself while trying to come up with a game for everyone to play. Ragatha sometimes needs to step in to tell you to take a break. There's no use overworking yourself, go take a break!

★ She really wants everyone to have fun with the adventures you put together. There's no doubt that she loves them. Also she's the first person to yell at Jax for being mean to the NPCs.

[fangirleaconmigo]

I've been going through some of your posts about Geralt and Dandelion's friendship in the books recently because... well I'm back in my book/game phase I guess and I really wanted to know if there are any other Dandelion friendships you like from the books and why? Like him and Zoltan or with the other Hansa etc? [Personally I'm a big fan of what little we see of him with Regis and it always makes me weepy that he wrote a biography about him in the games and fondly remarks abt him smelling like herbs all the time]

Awww yayy thanks for spending some time on the ol blog. I absolutely love this question. I don't get to talk enough about Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, and his relationship with Dandelion (for the newbies, that is Jaskier's name in the books) is so lovely.

Dandelion and Friendships

For those who are just joining us, Tea is talking about my series about Geralt and Dandelion's friendship in the books.

I have also written posts about Dandelion's friendships with Ciri and Zoltan:

Dandelion and Ciri

Dandelion and Zoltan

And for this post, I'll focus on Regis and Dandelion's friendship, which I absolutely love.

Dandelion and Regis Friendship (books)

What really strikes me about Regis and Dandelion, is just how patient and kind Regis is with Dandelion. Sometimes it is almost like he’s dealing with a child he cares about. Considering Regis’s age (over four centuries old), Dandelion (approx in his thirties when they meet) IS a child. 

On top of that, Dandy’s personality is rife with traits often associated with kids:

insatiable curiosity to the point where he endangers his own life, (when they go into the forest or sea, Geralt has to essentially, follow right behind him like you would a toddler),

hyper enthusiasm about every discovery he makes, (he whispers in awe when he sees mandrake for the first time, that’s just how he reacts to everything new)

his inability to censor himself or stop asking questions even when everyone else wants him to shut up (he will ask until he understands, no matter the social cues happening)

the way he will act incredibly transparent and awkward while thinking he is being subtle and smooth

Perhaps that is why Regis seems to be so indulgent of him. And somehow their personalities just fit naturally.

Regis’s most annoying trait is to lecture people at length like a professor and cut people off who are asking a question, since he is too eager to answer it. The vampire loves to hold forth on a topic.

Dandelion’s annoying trait (one of many, bless, we know he can't keep it in his pants either) is to ask questions incessantly. In that way, they really kind of fit together. 

Geralt loses patience when Dandelion is being socially inappropriate by asking too many questions. Geralt really values discretion and manners.

Regis is more willing to spend time explaining things and to open up.

Early in the hansa's time together, (before he manages to surprise folks several times over) Dandelion is often seen as the one who is in way over his head. Everyone else is a warrior or a soldier. Dandelion is the soft one. To add to the indignity, Geralt is angry at him during Baptism of Fire because Dandelion keeps forcing him to make friends (well, to ask for help)

Yet Regis, the new guy, is the one who always makes sure Dandelion isn't embarrassed or ashamed.

Here’s a few examples.

When Dandelion is given a bloody head wound by an arrow, the poet is howling and shrieking. He thinks he's dead already. He is not a stoic man. It is played comedically, but Geralt is also legitimately terrified that he will lose Dandelion. That bit is not played comedically.

But given the circumstances, the rest of them could be forgiven for rolling their eyes at the poet's dramatics.

But Regis (who is treating his wounds as the resident barber surgeon) does not.

Regis speaks to him so soothingly, and kindly. (I am omitting the Geralt dramz because I will get off topic lol)

Dandelion groaned and took a sharp intake of breath....

“I’ll put in a few stitches,” Regis said...”Be brave, Dandelion.”

Dandelion was brave.

“Almost done here,” Regis said, setting about bandaging the victim’s head. “Don’t you worry, Dandelion, you’ll be right as rain. The wound’s just right for a poet, Dandelion. You’ll look like a war hero, with a proud bandage around you head, and the hearts of the maidens looking at you will melt like wax. Yes, a truly poetic wound....”

And when it is revealed that Regis is a vampire, and Dandelion is afraid of him, Regis is incredibly patient and kind about the whole thing. He does not take offense. Geralt does! (Ironic, considering Geralt ran Regis off, but Geralt, bless, is dealing with a clusterfuck of feelings about the vampire and everything else going on in his life.)

But yes, after Geralt tells Dandelion about Regis, Dandelion is scared, and wants to seek reassurance. But the poet (unbeknownst to him it seems) is awkward and bad at it. He tries to bring up the issue with the subtlety of a sledge hammer.

Dandelion...deciding to clear up the uncertainty..began as soon as they set off. With his usual tact.

(I like that. His usual tact. Meaning, zero tact lmaoooooo.)

“Milva,” he suddenly called as they were riding, sneaking a glance at the vampire as they were riding, sneaking a glance at the vampire. “...I fancy eating a hunk of real meat for a change! How about you, Regis?”

Yeah. Real subtle Dandelion.

“I beg your pardon?’ the vampire said, lifting his head from the horse’s neck. 

“Meat!” the poet repeated emphatically. “...fancy some fresh meat?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And blood. Would you like some fresh blood?”

“Blood?” Regis asked, swallowing. “No. I’ll decline the blood. But if you have a taste for some, feel free.”

Geralt, Milva and Cahir observed an awkward, sepulchral silence.

I love that. Awkward sepulchral silence. Dandelion causes a lot of those. But Regis does not dismiss him or laugh. He reassures him.

“I know what this is about, Dandelion,” Regis said slowly, “And let me reassure you. I’m a vampire, but I don’t drink blood.”

The silence became as heavy as lead. But Dandelion wouldn’t have been Dandelion if he had remained silent.

But Dandelion wouldn’t have been Dandelion if he had remained silent. (sorry I am laughing every other line at this part)

“You must have misunderstood me,” he said, seemingly lightheartedly. “I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t drink blood,” Regis interrupted. “...I gave it up.”

Dandelion doesn’t know what that means and keeps pestering Regis to explain. Geralt is embarrassed and tells Dandy to shut up.

However, Regis opens up around the camp fire that night. He tells his life story, and says he hasn’t drank blood in fifty years. Dandelion is incredulous. 

“Not at all?” Dandelion said, and stuttered. But his curiosity got the best of him. “Not at all? Never? But...?”

Geralt is embarrassed again and shuts him down again. Regis, by contrast, is patient and defends Dandelion.

“I beg your pardon,” the poet grunted.

“Don’t apologize,” the vampire said placatingly, “And Geralt, don’t chasten him. I understand his curiosity.”

Baptism of Fire 291-295

That's right. Don't chasten him Geralt.

Regis and Dandelion also just have a wonderful dynamic of picking on each other.

Dandelion teases Regis about his long ass name.

And Regis has a great time teasing Dandelion lovingly. In one scene, Geralt and Regis team up to pick on Dandelion and the secretive way he treats his writing. Dandelion has stolen some paper and pencil from a Lyrian military convoy and is writing whenever they make camp, but gets testy whenever anyone gets near him or looks at his manuscript.

Geralt is good-naturedly giving Dandelion a hard time and Regis jumps in with such adorable relish. (Also, in this scene, we find out that Regis actually named Dandelion's memoirs)

"Indeed," the witcher joined in...."You've become devilishly touchy, Dandelion. One cannot fail to notice that it is somehow connected to the paper which you have recently begun to deface with a bit of lead while we camp." “It’s true,” Regis agreed, “our minstrel has become touchy, not to say secretive, discreet, and loving of solitude recently. Oh no, having witnesses when performing his natural needs doesn't bother him at all...His shameful secrecy and oversensitivity to being watched extends solely to his scribbled notes. Is, perhaps, a poem being written in our presence? A rhapsody? And epic? A romance? A canzone?”

He's like, you don't care who sees you piss and shit, but oh this you care about. lol. Tell us about the poem. But Geralt objects.

“No,” Geralt retorted...”I know him. It can’t be verse, because he’s not cursing, mumbling, or counting the syllables on his fingers. He’s writing in silence, so it must be prose.”

“Prose!” The vampire flashed his pointed fangs - which he really tried not to do. “A novel perhaps? Or an essay? A morality play? Dammit, Dandelion! Don’t torture us so! Reveal what you are writing?”

Dandelion says it is a memoir called Fifty Years of Poetry. Regis says that A Half Century of Poetry sounds better.

“Thanks, Regis, Something constructive at last.”

P 88 -90 The Tower of the Swallow

I admit I'm such a sucker (hehe no pun intended) for whenever Regis's fangs are mentioned, whether he is hiding them, baring them, or unselfconsciously showing them during a warm, silly moment with his friends. (Sobs, I love this vampire, seriously I need an intervention)

Regis also comforts Dandelion openly when the poet is doubting his courage or fitness for a task.

Later in the book, Geralt volunteers for a bloody job/violence for hire that terrifies Dandelion, so the poet protests the plan. Geralt insists he’ll do it alone.

But no! He has a hansa now! He won't be alone! Angoulême volunteers to go. Cahir says he’s coming with as well. Then Milva insists she is coming.

Dandelion freezes.

It would be like the LOTR ‘and my bow and my axe’ yadda yadda scene, but if there was one person left and when it got to them, everyone turned around and looked and they are just standing there frozen like....motherfuck this is scary idk idk wtf do I do. And the way this next paragraph is written, it pleases me.

Dandelion...was evidently struggling with his thoughts. And the thoughts were winning.

lmaooo

And Regis jumps in "kindly." He shows solidarity with Dandelion, and takes the heat by calling himself a coward.

“Stop meditating, poet,” Regis said kindly. For there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re even less cut out to participate in a bloody swordfight than I am. We weren’t taught to carve up our neighbors with a blade. Furthermore...furthermore..,” he raised shining eyes towards Geralt and Milva, “I’m...a coward,” he confessed curtly.

They keep arguing amongst themselves because Geralt believes they have been spied on. And Regis is just...always soft with Dandelion. When Dandelion starts guessing about who is spying on them, and is beginning to ramble incorrectly,

“You’re mistaken, Dandelion,” Regis softly interjected.

The Tower of the Swallow p 182

It's Regis's gentleness that just fuckn kills me. That's always the character that's gonna get me right between the ribs with a shank. (Metaphorically, Regis is too gentle for that)the one that lives in a horror filled, violent, cruel world and is still just kind, even to the loud, awkward, soft, obnoxious poet who is in over his head and is afraid you'll bite him in his sleep and who shrieks when he is wounded.

Geralt and Dandelion are so sassy and old/married with each other, deeply, proudly loving in actions, but always bickering.

It's sweet to see Dandelion have a friendship like the one he has with Regis.

It is so nice to hear that the games continued his love of Regis. (I haven't played them, so I get my info about them from you guys XD)

So thanks again for following me and for the ask! I hope I've done ok answering. I also love Dandy's dynamic with Nenneke and ofc Yen, but I'll stop there.

Hope your week goes really well. x

[goodomensistrendingwhy]

Not good news.

TW: mention of SA and mention of G*m*n

Written around:

January 14th 2:00 pm (EST)

January 14th 7:00 pm (UTC) -edit: the dates say January im sorry, my brain has been in 10 different places also thank you to someone in the comments for pointing this mistake out.

As of now G*m*n is trending along with good omens and sandman. Yesterday an article came out further detailing G*m*n’s sexual abuse towards women as well as child abuse.

I am censoring his name because typing it out makes me want to puke. As a person who went through childhood SA this is all very hard for me to speak about and I don’t want to say anything that may come across as insensitive to the situation.

The number one thing on my mind is the priority to let the women be heard and to have justice. I won’t lie I have gotten very angry with myself for still being apart of this fandom. But also…that isn’t going to do anything. To the people who are getting upset at this fandom and claiming we “defend him” I can promise you most people will shout to the highest mountain they do not support him(myself included).

Right now we are focused on listening to the victims and speaking out against this man. To the people who says “there is a special place in hell for the good omens fandom.” I would like to ask this, is that sentiment really helping the people who got hurt? I will probably get hate…but right now I am just trying to distance myself from his works while still remembering liking a piece of media doesn’t define my morality. Right now I am speaking out against, right now I will try to make this world a safer place any way I can.

-From your local fandom news reporter Al, stay safe and keep listening(but don’t wear yourselves out!)