#flaws put within the first chapter

[gay-dorito-dust]

Sometimes you often forgot just how big Jason was in terms of physicality.

He was like a towering monster whose shadow could encase you but it was warm, protective and secure, leaving you feeling like the most safest person in Gotham.

You often forgot how big his hands were until his callouses were pressed against the back of your hand, hiding yours completely from sight as he closed his hand fully enveloped yours whole, keeping them warm from the cold that he knew you had a love/hate relationship with.

You forgot how effortlessly you could burrow yourself into his broad back, big enough to hide yourself behind whenever you felt fear, or just needed to be close to Jason in order to feel something in general as you nuzzled your face between his shoulder blades and hearing his strong heart beat that grounded you from just about anything.

You could hide away behind him and no one would be none the wiser until Jason stepped to the side, which he never did as he always assumed his position as your wall rather seriously, too stubborn to move for anyone who wasn’t you.

Jason has the physique that is told in Greek mythology, his hands were strong, his thighs were sturdy and powerful as his back and chest were nothing to scoff at either. He was beautiful with all his scars and callouses, for he was the most beautiful man to you who never failed to read chapters from his book to help you sleep, all the while he cradled your form against his larger one.

You often forget about Jason’s physical stature because it didn’t matter to you how big he was, or how strong he was because at the end of the day he was your Jason, he was the man you loved so dearly as you kissed his scars tenderly and caressed his callouses with softness as though you’ll hurt him somehow if you pressed too hard.

He was a giant teddy bear with you and you could only see the sweet, literature dork of a man who holds you close to his chest as though you were his personal teddy bear. His stature and physique didn’t frighten you, it reassured you and comforted you in more ways than one.

You forgot about his physique when his personality shone brighter for you to pay more attention to, his big strong arms that held you from behind, pulling you to his chest were merely a bonus as you snuggled into his neck and pressed kisses to under his jaw and making him hum in content. He was your sweet jay bird who always put you first no matter what, his unwavering loyalty left no room for insecurity or doubt within your relationship as you had found the perfect man in Jason Todd.

A man with flaws and errors of the past etched into his skin, but to you he couldn’t be more perfect as he smiled and laughed with you while keeping you close to him, as though afraid you’ll disappear but you’re more then willing to cling on to him in return…even if your hands don’t meet when returning his embrace in due to how big he was in general.

Yet still he was your precious Jason who was perfectly imperfect in your eyes, his towering and intimidating stature was merely a bonus to the awkward but endearing man that laid beneath.

[opbackgrounds]

This scene with Sanji is one of his most important moments in the series, and in my opinion also one of the most difficult passages in the manga to interpret, because to completely understand it you have to look at the manga holistically rather than this scene by itself.

The big question that needs answered is why does Oda let Zoro "win" here by having him be the sacrifice instead of Sanji. Both are equally willing and both are identified much later on as the Wings of the Pirate King, implying that they have similar importance (although vastly different roles) within the Straw Hat crew.

If we go back to Sanji's introduction on the Baratie, his big flaw was that he lacked the "spear of spirit" to pursue his dream. Since he's been a boy he's wanted to find the All Blue, but even when he had the opportunity to go after that dream he chose to stay on the Baratie out of a feeling of obligation to Zeff. Sanji put the continued existence of the restaurant over his own life, something Luffy rightfully called him out for at the time, and even at the end of the arc had to be pushed away by Zeff and the other chefs before he finally set sail for good.

On Drum, Sanji once again almost died protecting Nami and Luffy during the avalanche, resulting in a broken back that required surgury from Dr. Kureha. Luffy again calls him out (note the English translation here isn't entirely accurate, see here for a breakdown), and with his power there's a good chance Luffy could have gotten them all out of trouble without all the dramatics by Sanji.

Something similar happens on Skypiea, when Sanji puts himself in the way of Enel so that Usopp and Nami can be saved. This case is perhaps more justifiable given the extreme situation they were in, but nonetheless he was still quick to throw his life away.

Then on Enies Lobby Nami--while not criticizing his chivalry--calls out Sanji for simply not running away from Kalifa, instead just accepting that he's going to get the shit beat out of him, and possibly die.

So there's a pattern of self-destructive behavior. Sanji repeatedly puts his life on the line when he doesn't need to in order to preserve the lives and dreams of the people he loves. Even him constantly simping over Nami and Robin falls a little into this category, because if either of them told him to take a long walk off a short pier I have no doubt he'd comply. It's that same extreme willingness to sacrifice anything and everything for the people he cares for that we see in Baby 5, except Sanji was fortunate enough to not be surrounded by people that encourage these worst impulses of self-destructive behavior. As he says here in Thriller Bark, he's just the cook. Luffy can always just find someone else.

(The glory of Whole Cake Island being Sanji realizing, no, Luffy can't, and he won't).

And it is finally on WCI that get to the heart of why Sanji is like this with yet another episode of putting his own dreams and happiness aside for the sake of others, and not until Wano that we finally see him take the first steps toward asking others for help instead of passionately throwing his life away when he doesn’t need to.

When Zoro first offered his head to Kuma, the prominence of his dream was first and foremost. Notice that Sanji never mentions the All Blue. One Piece is a series that places the pursuit of one's own ambition above all else, even if that ambition is selfish. Sanji hasn't yet learned to be selfish, so Zoro knocks him out and ends up being the one to accept Luffy's pain. Sacrifice isn't sacrifice if the person doesn't value what they're giving up, and right now Sanji clearly doesn't value his own life compared to the rest of the crew.

Next chapter Oda will speak through Brook to confirm that Sanji's willingness to give himself up wasn't foolish or stupid. It's just that he's missing a piece of the puzzle, and that's not something he'll have for a long time yet.

[ghelgheli]

hey you might've been asked this before sorry if so, but have you read or do you have any thoughts on A short history of Trans Misogyny?

I have read it! I have a few thoughts.

I think it's a strong and important work that compiles historical archives into sharp analyses of how "trans misogyny" (using Jules Gill-Peterson's spacing) is not a recent phenomenon but a globalized structure with centuries of history. I also think it's flawed, for reasons I'll get into after a quick summary for those who haven't had the chance to read it yet.

JGP divides the book into three main chapters, the first on the notion of "trans panic". There, she traces how variants of this anxiety with the trans-feminized subject have presented—to deadly effect, for the subject—in such different settings as early colonial India, the colonization of the Americas, the racialized interactions between US soldiers stationed in the Philippines and the local trans women living there, and of course the contemporary United States itself. In every case she analyzes this "panic" as the reaction of the capitalist colonial enterprise to the conceptual threat that the trans-feminized subject poses; we are a destabilizing entity, a gender glitch that undermines the rigid guarantees of the patriarchal order maintaining capitalism. Punishment follows.

The second chapter is my favourite, and considers the relationship between transfeminine life and sex work. I posted a concluding excerpt but the thrust of the chapter is this: that the relegation of so many trans women and trans-feminized people to sex work, while accompanied by the derogation and degradation that is associated with sex work, is not itself the mere result of that degradation inflicted upon the subject. In other words, it is not out of pure helplessness and abjection that so many trans-feminized people are involved in sex work. Rather, sex work is a deliberate and calculated choice made by many trans-feminized people in increasingly service-based economies that present limited, often peripheralized, feminized, and/or reproductive, options for paid labour. Paired with a pretty bit of critical confabulation about the histories of Black trans-feminized people travelling the US in the 19th century, I think this made for great reading.

In her third chapter, JGP narrativizes the 20th century relationship between the "gay" and "trans" movements in north america—scare quoted precisely because the two went hand-in-hand for much of their history. She emphasizes this connection, not merely an embedding of one community within another but the tangled mutualism of experiences and subjectivities that co-constituted one another, though not without tension. Then came the liberal capture of the gay rights movement around the 70s, which brought about the famous clashes between the radicalisms of Silvia Rivera and Marsha P Johnson (neither of whom, JGP notes, ever described themselves as trans women) and the institutions of gay liberalism that desired subsumption into the folds of capital. This is a "remember your history" type of chapter, and well-put.

I think JGP is correct to insist, in her introduction, on the globalizing-in-a-destructive-sense effects of the colonial export of trans womanhood. It is, after all, an identity conceived only mid-century to make sense of the medicalized trans subject; and "gender identity" itself (as JGP describes in Histories of the Transgender Child) is a psychomedical concept conceived to rein in the epistemic instability of trans existence. This is critical to keep in mind! But I also think JGP makes a few mistakes, and one of them has to do with this point.

In her first chapter, under the discussion of trans misogyny in colonial India, JGP of course uses the example of the hijra. Unfortunately, she commits two fundamental errors in her use: she mythologizes, however ambiguously, the "ascetic" lives of hijra prior to the arrival of British colonialism; and she says "it's important to say that hijras were not then—and are not today—transgender". In the first place, the reference to the "ascetism" of hijra life prior to the violence of colonialism is evocative of "third-gender" idealizations of primeval gender subjectivities. To put the problem simply: it's well and good to describe the "ritual" roles of gendered subjects people might try to construe contemporarily as "trans women", the priestesses and oracles and divinities of yore. But it is best not to do so too loftily. Being assigned to a particular form of ritualistic reproductive labour because of one's failure to be a man and inability to perform the primary reproductive labour of womanhood-proper is the very marker of the trans-feminized subject. "Ascetism" here obviates the reality that it wasn't all peachy before (I recommend reading Romancing the Transgender Native on this one). Meanwhile, in the after, it is just wrong that hijra are universally not transgender. Many organize specifically under the banners of transfeminism. It's a shame that JGP insists on keeping the trans-feminized life of hijra so firmly demarcated from what she herself acknowledges is globalized transness.

My second big complaint with the book is JGP's slip into a trap I have complained about many times: the equivocation of transfemininity with femininity (do you see why I'm not fond of being described as "transfem"?). She diagnoses the root of transmisogyny as a reaction to the femininity of trans women and other trans-feminized subjects. In this respect she explicitly subscribes to a form of mujerísima, and of the trans-feminized subject as "the most feminine" and (equivalent, as far as she's concerned) "the most woman". Moreover, she locates transfeminist liberation in a singular embrace of mujerísima as descriptive of trans-feminized subjectivity. As I've discussed previously, I think this is a misdiagnosis. Feminization is, of course, something that is done to people; it is certainly the case that the trans-feminized subject is in this way feminized for perceived gender-failure. This subject may simultaneously embrace feminized ways of being for all sorts of reasons. In both cases I think the feminization follows from, rather than precedes, the trans misogyny and trans-feminization, and there is a fair bit of masculinization as de-gendering at play too, to say nothing of the deliberate embrace of masculinity by "trans-feminized" subjects. Masculinity and femininity are already technologies of gender normalization—they are applied against gender deviation and adapted to by the gender deviant. The deviation happens first, in the failure to adhere to the expectations of gender assignment, and I don't think these expectations can be summarized by either masculinity or femininity alone. I think JGP is effectively describing the experience of many trans-feminized people, but I do not think what she presents can be the universalized locus of trans liberation she seems to want it to be.

Now for a pettier complaint that I've made before, but one that I think surfaces JGP's academic context. In her introduction she says:

In truth, everyone is implicated in and shaped by trans misogyny. There is no one who is purely affected by it to the point of living in a state of total victimization, just as there is no one who lives entirely exempt from its machinations. There is no perfect language to be discovered, or invented, to solve the problem of trans misogyny by labeling its proper perpetrator and victim.

Agreed that "there is no perfect language to be discovered"! But JGP is clearly critical of TMA/TME language here. Strange, then, that less than ten pages later she says this:

this book adds the phrase trans-feminized to describe what happens to groups subjected to trans misogyny though they did not, or still do not, wish to be known as transgender women.

So JGP believes it is coherent to talk about "groups subjected to trans misogyny", which she thinks consists of the union of trans women and what she called "trans-feminized" groups. If this is to be coherent, there must be groups not subjected to trans misogny. So we've come around to transmisogyny-subjected and not transmisogyny-subjected. Look: you cannot effectively theorize about transmisogyny without recognizing that its logic paints a particular target, and you will need to come up with a concise way of making this distinction. But JGP dismissing TMA/TME with skepticism about "perfect language" and immediately coining new language (basically TMS/not TMS) to solve the problem she un-solved by rejecting TMA/TME... it smells of a sloppy attempt to make a rhetorical point rather than theoretical rigour. It's frustrating.

I have other minor gripes, like her artificial separation of "trans women" from "nonbinary people" (cf. countless posts on here lamenting the narrow forms of existence granted TMA people if we want recognition as-such!) or her suggestion that "a politics of overcoming the gender binary" is mutually exclusive from rather than necessarily involved with struggles around "prison abolition, police violence, and sex work". Little things that give me the sense of theoretical tunnel-vision. But I don't think all this compromises the book's strengths as a work of broad historical analysis. I would simply not take every one of its claims as authoritative. Definitely give it a read if you have the chance, especially for the second and third chapters.

[mapoeggplant]

skip to loafer chapter 64 analysis // spoiler

the desire to be loved that distances her more and more from people: we are finally starting to understand a little more about yasaka's past.

unlike what I thought, the first spark that gave shape to the kyoto arc didn't come from shima or the girl groups, but from one of the most enigmatic characters in skip to loafer: yasaka.

we always knew very little about her and how her story unfolded. all we had was the understanding that she was a very lonely person with a complicated family situation and someone who sought people's love. and now, together with mitsumi, we are starting to understand more about where she was going with when she said that mitsumi had always been too loved to not care about what others thought.

yasaka clearly has a great desire to be loved, but she doesn't know exactly how to make people create stronger bonds with her. she believes that by being a person who is liked and desired by everyone and making these people feel good, she will get everything she wants — and this illusion may have been the result of a troubled relationship with her father, something that I believe is possible due to the small flashback she provides us.

she wants to be loved, she wants people to look at her with affection and not disapproval. being loved, pampered, praised is the way she understands love, something probably the result of a strict upbringing, where demanding anything more would result in a disappointed look. to escape this, yasaka always acts like a good girl, who gives double meaning answers and only says what others want to hear. the superficiality of the love she receives is enough to soften her ego and feed her well-being and the superficiality of the love she gives is enough to protect her from getting hurt.

but of course all of this is just a time bomb that is very close to exploding. yasaka puts on this persona of someone who does not want to be completely understood, but is unable to separate her frustration from the desire to form more meaningful relationships. she is not only shielding herself from people forming more mature relationships with her, but also doing her best to maintain superficiality so that her mask doesn't fall. another thing that solidifies this for me is the central page of yasaka surrounded by “affection” and gifts, showing exactly the loss of her childhood and the desire she still carries within her.

and what I like most about all of this is how mitsumi, someone completely opposite to her and who barely knows her, tries at all costs to cross this barrier that yasaka places between her and the world. by not allowing her to leave and insisting that she stay with the group, mitsumi is basically confirming to yasaka that it's okay for her to have her flaws and receive disapproving looks: her presence is still required and she is still a person who complements the group as a whole.

I really like how sensei is always willing to put two completely opposite characters so that they can externalize their flaws and fight against their barriers — and the relationship between mitsumi and yasaka is exactly another great example of this. on one side we have mitsumi, who grew up surrounded by love and affection, that’s why she’s so sure of herself and doesn’t need to seek validation on others. on the other, we have yasaka who craves affection so much to the point that she will drown herself in any small glass of it.

another thing i want to point out about this chapter is how being in love can blind you for flaws of the one you admire so much. when ujiie realized that yasaka isn’t the perfect girl he always saw, the first instinct he had was to deny it: of course his goddess wouldn’t have a flaw!! she’s 100% that girl he idolizes and loves so much. but what if this was all something he made up inside his mind?? how will ujiie deal with this heartbreaking of a confession?

another month blessed with another gorgeous chapter. sensei keeps surprising me more and more and can’t wait to see what she’s keeping as a secret from us. thank you so much for reading 💛!!

[taradactyls]

Something I love about how Pride and Prejudice is told through an omnipresent narrator, aside from the witty remarks and insight into other characters it allows even though it's usually focused on Elizabeth, is how it plays on the audience's own prejudices and assumptions.

The narrator tells us very early on, chapter 4, that Darcy is "haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting." We've already seen that when we meet him the previous chapter, and will see more of it in those following. But it's the readers, along with Elizabeth, who take that observation as not only a list of flaws (despite only the first actually being negative) but presumes even more damaging flaws must be attached to it. Darcy can be off-putting, especially so in the setting we meet him in: he dismissed Elizabeth within earshot of her, didn't engage with people attempting to converse with him, etc. It's easy to assume the worst of him in a world so driven by social niceties, and because we follow Elizabeth, who is so lively and playful amidst the rules which govern society. Elizabeth thinks he's bad tempered? It would make sense - he hasn't shown consideration for others much socially, why would he care when he's angry? He acted from resentment and jealousy and went against his father's will? That's not such a jump after the conclusion of a bad temper, his own acknowledgement of implacable resentment, and evidence of pride. The awareness of one offensive trait so naturally leads to prejudice against it, that we easily assume still worse qualities must exist. We are as mistaken as Elizabeth.

Even the idea that 'No, Darcy was never haughty or rude, he was just shy and misunderstood, the narrator is wrong' is just magnifying that prejudice. Yes, we do find out later that Darcy is not at ease among strangers, and was always intrinsically good; his morals and core values meant he was never as bad as Elizabeth believed. But that doesn't mean he was without flaws, and it's so fascinating that some analysis of his character seek to completely remove the negative traits which he eventually overcame after acknowledging them in himself. The logic seems to be that they feel if he had them in the start that he isn't actually such a good person. It's just another example of being so prejudiced against certain flaws that it's impossible for some people to reconcile that there doesn't have to be more serious failings attached, and someone can still be a good person despite being arrogant and not always nice. It's, ironically, being prejudiced in the exact same way that Elizabeth was at the start of the novel. It's amazing that Jane Austen was able to tap into that aspect of human nature so deftly, and invoke in both in her main character, and readers to this day.

Now, of course, the story is so well known it's rare for anyone to read it blind, so it's less likely anyone will be unaware of Darcy's good qualities despite first seeing his worst. Even if they do, Pride and Prejudice has become so genre defining that new readers who are the slightest bit genre savvy will be more aware than contemporary audiences were. But even if we know the story it's still so understandable why Elizabeth feels the way she does. We see what she sees and feel her conclusions make sense. Just as, even though the narrator tells us Darcy is starting to catch feelings for Elizabeth, we fully comprehend her not noticing and believing there's a mutual dislike. And though that is concrete evidence of Elizabeth not reading Darcy and his motives correctly, we are still so sympathetic of the basis of her prejudice that her continued belief in Darcy's lack of virtues makes sense from her point of view. We can see, as she later will, that she takes it too far, and should have noticed evidence to the contrary, but her prejudice against him based on his early behaviour and her pride at reading people correctly is so understandable.

Basically, in a story about the characters' pride and prejudices, I love, love, LOVE how the narrator's voice brings out those same traits in readers the exact same way we see it presenting in Elizabeth. We're all on that journey with her, and we can likewise learn the same lessons about ourselves as she does. Pride and Prejudice feels timeless, because even though society and thus the nuance changes, the book is about human nature, and that remains essentially the same.

[jarimaa]

hey, i was just wondering what are your thoughts on the final chapter of jjk…

The End

This is gonna be a little detailed. I am gonna first give a short answer and what I liked and disliked, then a little more detailed one. This is about ending as a whole.

I remember I did quite some research during my college time on post modernism and existentialism because i had to write an essay (it isn't about that) but I will be referring to what I researched here and there, when put forth my points.

Short answer- I am content with the ending. I am also surprised since this is the first time gege wrote a full manga for the first time, but he still managed to give an ending better than most. And any gripe that still remains, I will not hold it against the author cause the story and characters aren't real, Gege is.

Yuji, Sukuna, and Gojo's character have some of the best conclusions within the story (unpopular opinion probably 😮‍💨). The way they were written and the consistency with regards to their characterization was amazing.

As for what I am conflicted about, well, it's Megumi's character. I don't know how to say it, I liked it his conclusion, but I wish there was more introspection to how he reached there. But alternatively, I talked with a moot of mine, and they think the lack of introspection from Megumi is quite in-character. He decided to live for others once again (i.e., he didn't address his problems at all) and he is finding peace and comfort in the cage he is stuck at, it's such simple decision from his part, cause he is very clueless about his own psychology, and this is the beauty of it, that we as readers know what caused him to make that decision-according to my moot. I highlighted this one, cause this interpretation stood out the most. I also talked with other people, who seem to hold dislike for the lack of introspection from Megumi's end. While I am still conflicted, maybe I will address in some other posts or not at all, idk, but right now, I haven't formed my opinion on it. But I am satisfied, to say the least, conclusion itself isn't bad for me.

Detail:-

I like that it's more about evolving and coexistence rather than breaking the cycle or one conclusive solution. Regardless of Sukuna's or Yuji's existence, the curses will always continue to exist. It's humans' negative emotions that create curses in the first place. If the negative emotions of humans can't cease to exist, then curses won't either. Jujutsu Kaisen in a way rejects the idea that life can just have a start, middle, and end, or that one single truth/solution can provide closure. Maybe things can get worse in the future, maybe things can get better, that's up to you to decide, in that particular sense, it's open-ended.

You may ask what was even the point then? Well, let me offer a perspective, although it's just my interpretation, you don't have to agree to it...

When characters within a story accept a belief, perspective, or solution as the only truth, it can lead to their failure, especially if that belief oversimplifies a complex reality. But, one character who comes to understand the complexity can find a way to coexist with the chaos or ambiguity, though not necessarily "fixing" things.

In narratives such as these, the answer isn’t just a rejection of truth but a recognition of multiplicity, the presence of multiple perspectives, interpretations, or meanings within a single work or the idea that one truth or solution cannot account for the full stretch of experience. The character who realises the absence of a single "fix" often ends up navigating the challenges in a more nuanced way. They may not succeed in traditional terms, but they endure by accepting life’s complexity.

Many characters within JJK try to find some single "fix" to the system or the problem of curses and cursed energy and each of them had very flawed solution which we see failing--Yuki/Kenjaku/Geto were all extremists in that sense, one of my friend mentioned this in twt, Yuki wanted to completely break away from CE but also she didn't have any concrete plan, and Kenjaku who wanted to optimise it, but never really knew what merger could do, himself. Even Geto knew that killing all non-sorcorers is not possible.

Sukuna/Gojo-- both their ideals were extremely flawed. Many people have written amazing analysis on this, so i won't go in detail. But we see in the story how strength was the reason for both their solitude and which led them to path of their own death. But Sukuna perfected what Gojo didn't, sukuna completely threw away his humanity and was content living as a curse. A hollow human, who only ever cares about strength, he deemed love worthless, like Gojo deemed love to be the most twisted curse. However, gojo still wanted connections at the end of the day, and this kept him a little more humane than sukuna, who became a monster who clung to life wanting to stay at the pinnacle.

I liked that in the end Gojo realised that Yuji and other should follow their own path rather than just following his goals (although he would've like that) and I am glad they didn't follow his footsteps.

This conversation between sukuna and mahito just added so much to their characters.

Sukuna is the man who perfected his ego. He discarded his humanity till his last breath. Sukuna says he was an unwanted child (maybe cause he ate his twin in his mothers womb, someone on twt pointed out that this is similar to biological condition called "fetus in fetu") and he internalised this all and lived his whole life as a curse, only ever caring about his pleasures and displeasure and being the pinnacle. But even a perfected ego gets humbled in death, and the same happened with him. He acknowledges that he could have taken a different route, and if there is a next time, it would be nice to walk on a different path. Beautiful, honestly.

Now, Mahito is the literal manifestation of humans' hatred for others. He is a true curse, and he wasn't able to reconcile with his humanity after death because, unlike sukuna, he has none, he is not human. He is the manifestation of the same cycle of human hatred, he didn't change, he is the only one left sulking like a child. As I mentioned before, if the negative emotions of humans can't cease to exist, then curses like mahito won't either.

You could then say - well, then nothing changed?

I mean, is it really nothing? Tengen is no more, and this is the curse user Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara caught, and what happened to him?

Earlier, he probably would have been executed, but now Yuji offered him a chance to change.

Yuji turns out to be the person who learns to coexist. He is, for me, the best written character within the story with the best conclusion.

Now, let's just say that doesn't mean anything, nothing changed at all, there was no point...

However, the idea that "nothing changed" often misses the deeper layers of such narratives, which are less about external change and more about internal realizations, the acceptance of ambiguity and even the rejection of simplistic resolutions.

The "point" is not necessarily achieving change or a clear resolution, but rather witnessing the struggle itself. How characters navigate or accept a chaotic/indifferent universe.

There are two examples I can think of, first one being, Camus' "The Myth of Sisyphus", Sisyphus endlessly pushes a boulder up a hill, only for it to roll back down, its completely futile, yet the "point" is his perseverance. The second one is "Waiting for Godot" by Beckett, nothing really appears to happen in the story, and characters seem stuck in a cycle of waiting for this supposed person calles Gadot. However, the "point" is in the waiting itself. It's a reflection on the human condition, the search for meaning, and how we deal with uncertainty and the passage of time.

Thus, the point of such narratives is not in "what changed" but how we live with things not changing, how we adapt, or re-contextualise meaning of things when the world resists easy solutions or "fix its". It's reflectimg on the messiness of real life, where change is often slow, subtle, or non-existent, and simple answers are rarely seen.

So it's up to you to decide what you wanna make of this ending. Personally, I am very, very content.

(Again, this is my interpretation, I could be completely off charts, and I don't mind, maybe I will change my mind after thinking about it again, or maybe not, but one thing remains, that I throughly enjoyed all 4 years I was reading this manga. Peace✌️)

[genericpuff]

Hi! I came here from your "lore olympus biggest whiff" blog about the finale... I've never read LO but I was always interested in it. However, after reading a few paragraphs of that blog (I didn't read all of it because I didn't want to get too many spoilers), it doesn't seem worth it. Would you recommend it up to a certain chapter? If yes, until which chapter should I read?

Honestly, if you want to read LO, I absolutely highly recommend reading the whole thing, or at least trying to. Not just to give context to the things we're all talking about in these communities, but also because it's about to go behind the Daily Pass wall on August 29th and it'll become even more inconvenient to do so.

I'm personally still a huge sucker for the first season myself because it just has that magic that LO used to have that a lot of us fell in love with in the first place; it still has its flaws, it's definitely the worst of the "Persephone looks like a toddler" era, but the characters feel a lot more real and a lot of the best, most iconic panels from the series come from S1. The first half of S2 also isn't awful, though the art does start to get a bit rough around the edges. It wasn't until the last half of S2 that I personally started to go , "Wait, I don't think Rachel knows what she's doing." That said, I didn't become a full-blown critic of the series until the S2 finale, which is where I firmly believe the comic should have ended (that is, if Rachel had structured the story better to allow for the S2 finale to be the overall series finale).

But you should read as much of it as you can anyways. Even if you can't get through a certain part of the story and decide to DNF, that's fine, but I personally don't want to be the one deciding for folks what they should be reading or how much. I also definitely don't want people forming their opinion of a work like LO entirely through my criticisms of it - the best way for you to form your own opinion, regardless of whether or not it aligns with my own, is to simply read it yourself. I know where I started to lose interest in the series, but you might not feel the same way when you read it yourself. It's definitely happened in the past that people have gone to read LO to "see what all the fuss is about" only to wind up loving it haha and that's great, honestly, I don't want anyone to wind up missing out on something they might like just because of my own opinions about it :' )

Honestly it seems daunting but you can easily read all of LO between today and the 29th, a lot of the earlier S1 episodes are relatively short and the actual pacing of the comic itself throughout the second and third season makes for a very quick reading experience, text bubbles usually aren't too wordy so depending on how fast of a reader you are, you can usually blitz through each episode within 2-3 minutes (that said, I'm also a bit of a faster reader so your reading time may vary). Plus the episode count on the app is also thrown off by several episodes that are purely dedicated to Q&A's, hiatus notices, etc. So it's about a 12-18 hour reading experience give or take, which sounds like a lot, but if you're able to read several chunks of episodes at a time in bursts, it can be done by the time it goes behind DP on the 29th :' )

So yeah ! I do hope you read it for yourself if you're really curious, and if you do, feel free to come back again and tell me about your experience! Did you get through all of it or did you DNF? Did it put any of my own criticisms into better context for you or did you wind up enjoying the series regardless?

Best of luck!! <3

[atlasofthestaars]

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .015

first part | previous part | next part

NOTE:

Yet again we’re hoping for less than three weeks update time. We’ll see how it goes now haha ^^

edit: I lost track of time. I keep on forgetting when I last updated.

Rain got in as a love interest, which does alter the story a bit! 

Reminder that I like to do canon divergence <3 

Would you guys like a collection of headcanons I’ve done for requests on AO3?? I usually don’t post them there because they’re pretty short but I can put them all into one book that I’ll update.

Also happy 100k+ words! I'm. I'm not ready to figure out how many words this will all be by the end.

FROM THE EYES OF SOMEONE WHO ENJOYS A MOMENT OF PEACE

“Things are getting rough.”

You stood upon the roof of a building, staring down at the destruction of the city around you. Outworlders mobbed the streets, terrorizing the innocent Earthrealmers. To describe it as “rough” was an understatement. It’s been two long years ever since the first invasions on Earthrealm started. It’s been nearly a year since you’ve moved out to the city along with the others to fend off where it was the worst.

Most of Earthrealm’s forces were sent here, along with Raiden, to defend the city. But there were a few that were scattered around the world to help other regions. Fujin and your father, for example, stayed behind to help the monks defend the Wu Shi along with others of the White Lotus. You missed both of them dearly, only being able to communicate with them occasionally.

You haven’t been able to visit Kung Lao’s grave in over a year. You only hoped that he understood why.

“Are you planning on going out again?” Liu Kang’s voice spoke. His voice dripped with concern. You turned your gaze away from the apocalyptic sight to your dear friend. It was a much better view than the one below. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you. You sighed and nodded before turning your gaze down to the view below. As disturbing as it was, you felt guiltier turning a blind eye.

“I have to, I don’t think Raiden and Johnny Cage are enough to take down that extermination squad they’ve sent out.” You said, crossing your arms. A light breeze passed by, sending the smell of smoke your way. You grimaced at the acrid scent. No matter how long you’ve been here, you’re not sure if you’ll ever get used to it. Especially with how you’ve become so accustomed to the much cleaner air at the temple. “That, and Nightwolf said he would enjoy my help to help recruit the two Raiden has been getting information on.”

“New recruits?” Liu Kang inquired. You nodded gravely in response. A hint of distaste seemed to linger with his words along with some confusion. You didn’t blame him, ever since you’ve been out here, you’ve never really gone and sought out other help. Well, you’ve wanted to, but Raiden had been hesitant in dragging others into this whole affair.

As if they weren’t already. Still, you saw the logic within Raiden’s decision, even though it was flawed. 

“Yes. Raiden says they have potential.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see your friend move. Was that a flinch? Or did he simply shift his weight? When you turned your gaze to check, you couldn’t tell. “I think it would be good to get more help. Our efforts are stretched out thin as it is.” You elaborate. Your hands go out to grasp at the concrete railing, gripping it tightly. You were certain by the time you let go of it, your hands would have the texture imprinted upon them.

“I still cannot believe that even after winning two tournaments and even I had nearly killed Shao Khan, it was not enough.” Liu Kang said, moving to stand closer to you. Bitterness coated his words. The distaste within his words felt strange, no matter how much more common it was becoming. You recalled back to the moment you had confronted him at Kung Lao’s grave. He was doing much better now, but you had felt like something had fundamentally changed within Liu Kang.

You could never truly pinpoint when that change happened. Was it when the invasions had started? Or maybe, was it when Kung Lao died? Part of you doubted it was either one of those, even if it sounded like it made sense. It was probably much earlier, maybe after Raiden had said Liu Kang was not the chosen one. Either way, he had changed. There was resentment that lingered in his soul, directed at Raiden. You could feel it with every interaction.

It worried you. Team morale was low enough as it were without the subtle drama between Liu Kang and Raiden. It was taxing enough to keep on a brave face in front of everyone, to pretend like everything would be alright. You didn’t know if you had enough spirit left in you to mend things together. With every day that you had to hide your dwindling confidence, you broke a little inside.

You should really talk to him, but you feared that it would lead to more issues. Maybe you were being irrational and over thinking things. You were all tired, maybe he was just irritated at how the world has essentially fallen apart.

Surely that must be it. Liu Kang was not one to dislike Raiden. If anything, he had been the one out of all three of you who had regarded him the highest. So it was illogical to think that he would suddenly dislike or even hate the god.

You were just being too worried. Maybe your logic has become weaker after pretending everything was alright for so long. That, and Liu Kang and Raiden were adults, or in Raiden’s case, more than an adult. They can figure out whatever dispute they had, if they even had one. They didn’t need you to coddle them. You had enough on your plate already, you could trust them.

Still, even with that conclusion, a pit of guilt formed in your stomach. 

Warmth radiated from Liu Kang, a detail that you noted as you were drawn from your thoughts. It enveloped you in a sense of security. You closed your eyes, and for a moment you had nearly forgotten how terrible everything was. You felt safe. You only indulged yourself in the sensation for a moment before you opened your eyes and forced yourself to look at the destruction below. You didn’t deserve to feel safe and comforted in a world that needed your help.

“I can’t believe it either.” You replied after a long, long moment. You didn’t know what else to say, because what else could you say? It was unbelievable to you as much as it was to him how awful things were, even after all your efforts. It felt like a perpetual punishment for something you’ve never deserved. None of you deserved this, and yet you were all saddled with the heavy responsibility of it.

The two of you stood on the rooftop, looking out at the horrors of the world for a long while. It wasn’t as if you enjoyed seeing it. Not at all, but you couldn’t bear holding a smile for the others right now. Being alone with Liu Kang was better for your soul at the moment. None of you spoke, either not knowing how to or unwilling to break the fragile silence that settled over the two of you. It wasn’t until you realized how much time had passed that the silence had been broken.

“I need to get going now.” You informed Liu Kang. “Nightwolf will be waiting for me.” You turned away, moving to walk away from the man. Then, you felt him grasp your hand. His grip was firm, but not harsh. Just enough to keep you there, but you could still shake his grip off if you needed. But you didn’t. Your gaze trailed up from the grip to his arm then settled on his face. “Liu Kang?”

“I-” He began. His hand trembled. For what reason you had no idea why. Worried, you turned to face him fully. You placed a hand upon his, trying to quell whatever had caused him to shake. His hand settled between yours. His gaze lifted, and for a moment that stretched into eternity, he stared into your eyes. There was a fire that seemed to burn in his eyes, then it slowly burned away into embers. A soft flush appeared on his cheeks, and it seemed he even stopped breathing. You rubbed the back of his hand with your thumb, trying to coax the words out of him. His hand twitched before squeezing yours. “I just want you to stay safe.”

You could tell immediately that isn’t what he wanted to say.

“I will.” You said, reassuring him. You didn’t know what he wanted to say, you just knew those weren’t the words he wanted you to hear. But you held no judgement for the man. He could tell you what he wanted to say in due time. There was no need to rush him. You simply smiled at him. You lifted his hand and pressed it to your chest so he could hear your heart’s beat. “This heart of mine won’t stop beating anytime soon, okay?”

A shy smile spread across his lips as he nodded. His gaze fixated on where his hand was spread upon your chest, feeling the steady heart beat.You could feel how his hand grew a bit warmer, a side effect you knew from him getting a little emotional, whether it be from sadness, joy, anything really. You stood there, letting him feel the reminder that you were alive for a few moments more.

“Alright.” You said, gently removing his hand. Though the man was tough as nails, you delicately removed his hand. You moved it down to his side before sending him a smile. “I’ll be back soon, hopefully with new recruits.” You assured him, giving him a nod. “You better stay safe too, okay?” You watched as the monk nodded slowly.

You left him on that rooftop, feeling the warm gaze of your friend follow your form as you descended down back into the base.

Waking up today was the first time in a few days where you did not feel mired in heavy emotion. That was not to say you didn’t feel at least a little somber, but you at least did not feel desolate. You didn’t think your bed could handle another frenzied episode. Your fingertips traced the sewn up areas a little guiltily. You were still hoping that it was enough to not make others not mad at you.

The last thing you’d want is to ruin the apparent fragile relationship between Outworld and Earthrealm over something silly like this.

You felt a little better at the idea that perhaps not all of your memories would be so heavy and dark. You swung your legs over the bed, and you moved through your morning routine with some grace. It was a small boost of confidence, but one you sorely needed. Maybe it was a little silly, but you didn’t linger on that type of thought process for long. 

As you stepped out of the bedroom, the last bits of your somber mood felt like they disintegrated when the sunlight touched you. You felt light, but there was still a slight chill in the air. It was hard to deny that you missed the warmth Liu Kang would give you within your memories. For a brief moment, you wondered if it would be silly to try and stand close to the god to feel if he had that same warmth. 

Right on cue, the familiar taps of princess Kitana sounded from the far hallway. As both of you made eye contact, you shared a nod in understanding. Both of you met halfway, falling into familiar step as you walked by her side. It felt familiar. You weren’t sure if it was because you’ve walked by Liu Kang’s side for years, or because of the implications of your memories that you might have walked by her side before.

It felt nice to have a companion to walk with, either way.

“I noticed you went around with the actor.” Kitana spoke, a tinge of amusement in her voice. You couldn’t tell whether she was amused at the idea of the actor, or you being with the man. “Or, rather, he dragged you around.” She quipped. You held back an exasperated sigh at the memory. Even the princess had noticed that?

“Yes, he was rather…” You trailed off, trying to think of the proper words to express your feelings without making a bad impression of the actor for the princess. “...persistent.” You watched her eyebrows raise, and she nodded. The very hint of a laugh left her lips. You blinked, you weren’t certain if that was the first time you’ve heard her laugh.

“I can attest to that.” She replied, a tone in her voice indicating that she understood, even if just a fraction, how stubborn Johnny Cage could be. “The actor would not leave me alone the day after the banquet.” She peeked over to you, a thoughtful look on her face. “Forgive me for saying that I had the thought to smack some sense into him.”

“I take no offense, I understand just how he is like.” You said, a laugh escaping your lips. “He’s rather stubborn whenever he wishes, but he has a good heart.” You said, hand raising to cup your own cheek. Your smile slipped into something that felt sentimental before it bounced back into its more friendly state. You shrugged causally. “Even if it isn’t apparent at first.”

“Such praises are more comforting coming from you rather than his own mouth.” Kitana said, and you could detect what you could only describe as a teasing lilt to her voice. You smiled warmly at it, and you saw how her own smile seemed to grow a little less professional and a little more genuine. It was like watching a flower blossom.

“I can imagine so.” You laughed, bringing a hand to muffle it. You could imagine Johnny bragging about himself to the princess, and her probably being annoyed at it. Or amused. Either way, you had a feeling that the impression he left upon the princess was not the one he desired. “I just hope he didn’t irritate you. Like I mentioned, he means well.”

“While he is persistent as any other who attempts to court me, he is far less brutish.” Kitana reassured you, making you feel a bit better about his flirting, “And, if anything else, he is amusing enough to listen to.” You let out another chuckle at the image of Johnny thinking he was wooing princess Kitana when in reality she thought him closer to a court jester.

“Don’t let him know that.” You informed her, making her quirk up an eyebrow. “He’s an…entertainer in Earthrealm. His ego would swell with pride at the idea that he at least amuses you.” You couldn’t tell if it was the trick of the light or not, but you swore you saw her roll her eyes at the premise of Johnny Cage’s ego swelling even more.

“I’ll keep that information in mind.” Kitana replied, a light tone to her voice. With that, the both of you arrived at the entrance to the Great Hall. She turned to look at you fully, a small smile still gracing her lips. “Enjoy watching the match.” She said, and you granted her the same sentiment. She walked off, content with your response.

To your surprise, Raiden and Kung Lao were not around yet, leaving only the fire god waiting in the Great Hall. You looked around. For a moment, you considered the possibility that you had arrived earlier. You then were quick to doubt that idea due to your walk with princess Kitana. She seemed to be very diligent on routine, so you doubted that you both would have walked out early.

“Where is Raiden and Kung Lao?” You inquired, moreso thinking about the former than the latter. It wasn’t like you didn’t fret over Kung Lao, it was just that the lack of Raiden appearing was strange. While Kung Lao was typically early, it wasn’t as if he didn’t allow himself to take more time to himself. Raiden, on the other hand, was always early. Almost to a fault.

“I am not certain.” Liu Kang replied, his voice calm. You looked over to see him composed as ever. He caught your gaze, giving you a small smile in return. Subconsciously, you found yourself standing near him. You noted the warmth he radiated. It was familiar, the same aura he had back in your memories. “I would not fret over it, I am certain they will be here in due time.”

“I know.” You said, and yet you found yourself biting at a thumbnail. Your gaze was cast downwards as you contemplated over the whole ordeal. “It’s just…odd.” You admitted. “He usually would be here by now. By he, I mean Raiden. Kung Lao sometimes shows up simply on time.” 

“Indeed.” Liu Kang nodded. You could feel his gaze still on you. It did not sear you, rather it felt gentle. It was much like how it would feel if you were to hover your hand over a candle to feel its warmth. “However, he is also not the type to show up late if it is an important event. I would not worry over it, it will simply cause more stress.”

“You’re right.” You replied. You felt called out at the last statement, but you knew it was for the best. After all, you weren’t the best at keeping yourself from not being stressed. It was supposed to be a friendly reminder. You took in a breath, straightening out your back before lifting your head up. You shouldn’t be stressed. 

A silence settled over the two of you. This silence was different from the comforting one you were used to. It was tense, like a string being pulled far too taut. You supposed it was your fault, you and your busy mind. That, and you've been finding it harder and harder to try and separate the man you remembered the god in front of you.

“Have you been enjoying your stay in Outworld?” Liu Kang spoke. His voice was soft. It was like a droplet of water falling into a still pond. It was so deliberate, so delicate, how he broke the tension. You turned your gaze, and saw the smile he sent your way. It was bittersweet, the way he smiled. It was exactly the same way you remembered. 

“I have.” You said. You weren’t keen on lying to the god, but you did feel a bit bad admitting it. You watched his face shift a tiny bit, but you couldn’t quite read if that had any significance. You turned away, finding it hard to see the way he smiled. “It’s very…different.” You told him. There was a hesitance to your words. 

Certainly you were struggling to find the right words because you didn’t want to make it seem like you were suddenly forsaking Earthrealm, but there was also something else to it. You enjoyed Outworld, you truly did. But you weren’t naive to blindly praise it to a god. There were, for all you knew, probably a darker side to this place.

The memory of seeing Shao Khan for the first time still lingered in your mind.

“I’m glad you have been enjoying it.” Liu Kang replied, a pleased tone to his voice. You felt his heat grow a little more. Curious, you glanced over to him to see he has stepped over a bit. He was standing so close that he was nearly brushing your arm with his own. “I hope you continue to enjoy your stay here.”

“How has your experience been for this trip?” You asked quickly, not wanting the tension to settle back in the air. You forced yourself to look at him, meeting those glowing white eyes. You wondered, just briefly, what caused the warm mortal eyes you once knew to become godlike. Was this just a new world where Liu Kang was deemed a god? Or was there more reason to it?

“It has been lovely.” Liu Kang said, seeming satisfied with the eye contact you gave him. “Not much has changed since the last hundred years since Outworld functions differently, but something about this time around has been more…” There was a pause as the god seemed to search the air for the perfect word to say. “pleasant.”

“I see.” You replied, but the words felt like a lie on your tongue. You understood the joys of being here, but not the reason behind why it was more enjoyable. The little voice in your head told you that you should know though. And you felt just a little dumb for not knowing the reason. Still, you kept the smile upon your lips. 

It was hard not to smile when Liu Kang was looking at you that way.

It didn’t take long for someone to show up. That person was Kung Lao. A broad smile spread across his lips as he sauntered in. As he laid eyes upon you and the god, his eyebrows raised as he looked around, probably searching for his fellow farmhand. When he did not see him, he walked over to you two and looked around once more, just to make sure.

“Where’s Raiden?” He asked, the confusion clear within his voice. You saw him cross his arms as once more, he scanned the room. He seemed more certain that his eyes were in the wrong rather than believe in the fact that his friend was simply not here. You supposed no one could blame him, you were just as unbelieving when you had arrived. 

“He's just a little behind.” You excused, trying your best to not show in your voice that you had felt the same way. You didn't want to cause a fuss. “I am certain he shall show in due time.” You saw the fire god nod in agreement, which only made sense since he had been the one to share that same sentiment. At your reassurance, you saw Kung Lao shrug nonchalantly.

“I guess so.”

Some more time passed, and despite your own words, you felt yourself getting antsy with every minute that the diligent man did not arrive. Kenshi had arrived at this point, sending the group a curious glance upon noting the disappearance of the champion. You felt your intertwined hands fidget and clench and unclench. The stare that Kenshi sent your way did not help either. He could do very well with being less obvious.

Finally, to relieve your worries, Raiden finally showed up with Johnny Cage at his side. You sighed as you walked over to Raiden. Your eyes raked over the man. He looked rather unkempt. His clothes were a bit of a mess, and his hat was a bit crooked. He seemed to be nearly on edge. Your tongue clicked as you reached out, adjusting his clothes and hat for him.

“You had us worried.” You admit softly, making sure that the man was presentable. After all, at this point, many of Outworld’s citizens were keeping an eye on Earthrealm’s strong champion. You sent him a small smile, trying to reassure him since you could see how tense he was on his face. You watched as his mouth opened to say something, probably an excuse, but you laid a hand on his shoulder to quiet him. “Hey, you’re here, that’s what matters. Plus, you’re not late either. Don’t worry about it, it’ll leak into your fighting”

“You’re right.” Raiden said, nodding slowly. You could see the nervous energy in him seem to melt away. His eyes closed as he took a deep breath in before releasing it. A small flush covered his cheeks, perhaps still from how he had rushed to get ready this moment. When he opened his eyes, he sent you a sunny smile that warmed your heart. “I will do my best.”

“I know you will.” You told him. You watched as Kung Lao handed over a few items for Raiden and Johnny Cage to eat. You could always rely on him for that. Raiden seemed most grateful at the gesture. Chatter among the group seemed to calm the former farmhand, and it was not very long until the usual proceedings occurred. 

“Young Raiden.” Sindel spoke, gazing down at Raiden. You were impressed with how she kept her smile seeming this warm and cordial despite the trend of her champions being taken down by Raiden no matter how the odds seemed. “You have…bested all the champions thus far with grace skill.” The empress commended, though there was almost a slight strain to her voice as she admitted it, it was very subtle, hardly noticeable. “Let us see if this next contender can match your might.”

Surprisingly, after being absent yesterday, General Khan was back to announce the next champion. 

“The next challenger is another one of my officers, Motaro.” The general spoke, his voice booming and echoing off the walls of the hall. The sound of hooves caught your attention, and you turned to see a centuarian walk into the halls. His stride was confident, and he walked in with his arms crossed. His gaze was tilted down already, almost glaring down at Raiden who was forced to look up at his opponent.

Despite being an officer, he lacked the same armor that both Kotal and Reiko had donned, being fully bare on his upper body. Only a silver belt concealing where a horse body fused into a human body was present as any sort of protection, and even then it was more decorative than anything. That is, until you spied the back of his horse body. A metallic tail more akin to a lizard’s was attached there. Your eyes lingered on the curve of his horns, finding them interesting. It seems that centaurians were not a simply a human fused with a horse body as Earthrealmers would believe.

You believe you’ve seen this man before, but whatever feeling you had was much weaker than it was for any other person you’ve met. Maybe this man was in your life for but a brief moment…still, if he was, it was strange your brain even felt like it recognized him. 

“Motaro is one of the centaurian’s finest.” General Shao bragged, seeming more enthusiastic to talk about Motaro compared to Kotal from the other day. Motaro lifted his head up to bask in the speech, an almost pleased look on his face. “With the tenacity of a bull and the might of one of the best warriors I have fought alongside, he is one of the best warriors in the legion.”

“Little man.” Motaro addressed Raiden curtly. He snorted as he continued to look down at the farmhand. His countenance returned to the look he had previously, but it was marred with a near sneer. His gaze felt nearly as sharp as his metallic tail did. You watched as Raiden took the comment in stride, bowing to his opponent, not fearing despite the size difference between them both.

“It is an honor to fight you.” Raiden told his opponent. You smiled at how polite he was to his opponents, even despite the lack of respect he was granted in return. Still, you wondered if that would remain that way in the future. While the thought of Raiden trying to smack talk his opponents was funny to think of, you hoped that nothing would hurt Raiden enough to take him in that direction.

Motaro’s fighting style was unique, suffice to say. His unusual body type, at least compared to what Raiden had normally fought against. He would charge in a brutish manner, using brute force to try and make the champion cower. Despite his bulk, he also maintained a lot of the battlefield control when Raiden tried to create space by being able to shoot projectiles from the metallic tail that you had spied earlier. 

Still, even with the trickiness of the fight, Raiden’s wit led him to victory. When he needed to close the gap, he would teleport behind Motaro. Due to Motaro’s body, he struggled to turn around and face the man before he was met with lightning that was strong enough to stagger even him. Sometimes, Raiden would realize that he would have to match the reckless nature of Motaro and surge right at him, catching the other man off guard.

It was no surprise to you to see that Motaro eventually collapsed. Taking deep breaths, Raiden looked down on his opponent, an ironic twist on the dynamic before. Except for Raiden, there was no hint of malice or disrespect in his eyes. Only warmth glimmered within his. 

“Thank you for the match.” Raiden told him humbly, a soft smile on his lips. You watched him reach out to try and attempt to help up his opponent instinctively. He almost seemed to flinch when he retracted it when Motaro denied the help. There was a mixture between a scoff and a huff from the centaurian, but ultimately he nodded before he walked off. You eyed the tail that almost seemed to drag on the floor, making a slight scratching sound.

“Congratulations on a well fought match.” You said, walking up to the once again successful champion. His smile seemed to grow as you walked towards him with a delighted expression. It was almost like seeing a child light up when you gave them the sweetest candy in the world. “Your technique is improving everyday.”

“I can only thank you, Lord Liu Kang, and the monks for preparing me for these moments.” Raiden replied, seeming to fall back onto his habit of being far too humble. You sighed and shook your head in disapproval of how he still didn’t consider his own skills into the fray. Still, it was endearing enough that you still smiled.

“Do not forget how much hard work you have also put in, Raiden.” Liu Kang reminded him, practically taking the words out of your mouth. You saw the god’s eyes flick over to you for a moment. Whether that was in reference to how you and Raiden had often stayed up late training or if it was a reference to how the god knew what was what you were going to say, you could not tell. 

“Yeah man, you killed it out there, even with sleeping in.” Johnny hopped into the conversation. You elbowed the actor at the mention of him sleeping in, maybe a little harsher than you should have after seeing how flushed the champion’s cheeks became. You heard the American clear his throat. “You gotta give yourself some credit, Raidude.”

“I will try.” Raiden said, a bit of hesitance in his voice. While it did seem to partially stem from the insistence from all of you that he should be giving himself more credit, you could also sense the hesitance coming due to the nickname Johnny had called him. You would never admit it, but the fact that even the kindest of your mentees seemed to hold a slight disdain towards the actor’s nicknames never failed to amuse you. Yet, all the same, the enthusiasm in him wanting to succeed and work hard on whatever his criticisms were shone through. 

After discussion with Liu Kang, like usual, your little group dispersed once more. For a moment, you swore you saw Kung Lao linger for a moment before he seemed to walk off with Raiden. You weren’t sure if your eyes were seeing things correctly, though. The man who did stick around was Kenshi, who soon found his way by your side.

“Ready?” The ex yakuza member inquired. His eyebrows were raised as he looked at you. The way he gazed at you seemed to tell you more words than he said, like how he was willing to wait for you if you weren’t. You supposed it only made sense, from what Kenshi had told you before, that the Yakuza would need to be subtle and communicate with others with even the slightest nod. Still, it was almost like a fresh breath of air compared to the others who seemed like an open book compared to the man beside you.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You told him with a confident nod. Then, the both of you set off. The difference between the walk to Sun Do with Kenshi compared to Johnny was almost night and day. While it wasn’t completely silent, you both only had some chatter here and there. It didn’t feel like small talk, and comforting silence filled the air otherwise. 

You took this time to try and sneak some glances Kenshi’s way while he seemed to remain vigilant in staring on the path ahead. Out of all your champions, you considered the man beside you to be the one you understood the least. While you did attempt to get closer to the man through food, there was still a lot you had left to learn about him. He wasn’t as eager to dispense knowledge as the others, even if he wasn’t totally private about the past. 

The reason why Kenshi was so vastly different in this timeline compared to the other three was beyond you. It was a mystery you’ve been trying to unravel since you’ve met the man. His backstory was completely different, and the lack of powers he had previously made you question a lot about this life. Different backstories weren’t anything new, per se, but it was still strange how…different it was. From your memories of the world before, you could conclude that perhaps his lack of powers was from how he did not wield Sento. 

You’ve considered confronting Johnny about giving the swordsman the sword back, after all the actor had it for a rather petty reason, but you’ve never gotten too far in your plans. You couldn’t guarantee that talking to the actor would do any good, that man was rather stubborn, even in the face of reason sometimes. But there was also another reason you’ve held yourself back.

You were afraid that the sword would doom Kenshi to some kind of tragic fate. Your memories of Kenshi's previous story were hazy. You couldn’t tell if it was because you simply didn’t remember, or if it was because you never sought out to ask too much about it in the past. Either way, you were upset with yourself over it.

What you did know for certain, despite the lack of memories, was that in your previous life, he had been blinded due an incident that had something to do with the sword. Yes, he did gain powers that enabled him to be more than he was, but thought of losing his eyesight because of it and you potentially being the catalyst for that was more than you thought you could bear. It wasn’t as if you could warn Kenshi of the dangers, you’d sound insane.

Plus, you knew with the significance of that sword, your warnings might go unheeded. You had a sense that the ex yakuza member was selfless enough to be a martyr for the sake of his clan. The thought of him giving up his eyesight willingly squeezed your heart.

You were willing to craft a hat for Kung Lao, there were no flaws behind that as far as you could tell. But Kenshi’s weapon had a lot more weight to it. You wouldn’t know if the consequences behind that influence were the same, and if they would be less than the positives. There was a lot more to consider. Even if your decision that you would err on the side of caution, you still felt guilty that you could not help and provide the weapon that the man beside you craved.

“You’re glancing at me a lot, should I be flattered or concerned?” Kenshi inquired, snapping you out of your thoughts. You found that you were now meeting the swordsman’s gaze who held you with an intrigued look. With a scene that felt all too familiar, you felt your face heat up again. How you’ve let yourself space out and stare so obviously at your companion two days in a row, you had no idea.

“Flattered, I suppose?” You said, awkwardness soaking your words after you cleared your throat. You found yourself unable to maintain eye contact. Suddenly, the blue sky speckled with clouds seemed interesting. You felt your hand creep up to the side of your neck and press against it. Compared to the heat of your face, your hand felt like an ice cube. 

You didn’t know what excuse to say, or if you even should. Obviously, you couldn’t tell him the real reason why you were taking what you thought was sneaky glances. If you weren’t telling the god who took you in about your memories, you weren’t going to tell Kenshi. The issue was that now, you had no idea what excuse to even say, and you put yourself in a rather awkward situation because of it.

Despite this, it seemed that you didn’t have to. You heard a chuckle, and took a cautious peek to see Kenshi looking at you with a gaze that seemed free of judgement. His cheeks were tinged with pink. It seemed whatever excuse he had gleaned from what little you said satisfied him. You weren’t sure what his assumptions were, but at this point, you figured you were far too deep to ask what he thought it was.

This was the consequences of your lack of sneakiness, you supposed. You didn’t find yourself too upset though. It seemed to make him pleased enough, and that was enough for you. 

The rest of the walk to Sun Do left you feeling just a little lighter.

You both wandered into the city, deliberately leading him in a different direction you had gone with both Johnny and Raiden. You didn’t need to retread those places, you knew very well that you wouldn’t find the gift for Bi-Han you wanted in those shops. It would only waste precious time. You both went from shop to shop, peering at possible gift ideas with careful eyes.

Shopping with Kenshi was much different than the other two. With Raiden, he had been far too passive. He seemed to enjoy peering at the wares and agreeing with you more than scrutinizing the items. He4 didn’t provide any meaningful feedback in terms of whether the gift was appropriate or if it felt right. You didn’t blame him, you had a feeling he was far too elated by simply being in the heart of the capital. That, and he was the one who invited you to explore rather than shop. 

With Johnny, he had a completely different taste than you did. He often criticized your choices for being too “tame” or not flashy enough. Perhaps it wasn’t the worst opinion, you had gone for subtler gifts, but the gifts he offered before the ribbon had all been rather…gaudy and definitely didn’t fit the Lin Kuei. It was almost a miracle he had spotted the ribbon and offered it up.

Kenshi, on the other hand, was almost like the perfect shopping companion. His tastes seemed to align with what you were searching for, so that was a far better companion than Johnny. Not only that, but he was very inquisitive and seemed to take every comment you said to heart. You couldn’t resist a smile as you realized this nature was the exact reason why you had chosen Kenshi in particular to critique your cooking. 

“How about this?” Kenshi inquired, lifting up an intricate blue sash. You hummed as you leaned in close to peer at the fabric. You plucked the item that was draped over his hands, your fingertips brushing against the inked surface. You lifted up, studying the details. Then, you squinted at it more as you tried to imagine Bi-Han wearing this sash. Your nose wrinkled at the fact that you could not conjure up that image.

“I think we should stray away from accessories like this.” You concluded. “I don’t think Bi-Han would find himself wearing anything in accompaniment to his uniform.” You explained. The swordsman nodded as he took your words into consideration. You handed back the sash to him so he could place it back. With careful precision, he folded the sash before delicately placing it back into its former spot. Had you not known the man, you would have never guessed his dark past with how he carried himself in his actions. 

You scanned the area, looking for other ideas while Kenshi also perused the store. Nothing in particular for the grandmaster caught your eye. This store was mostly filled with accessories, which was not the type of gift you could imagine giving Bi-Han. And yet, despite this, something did catch your eye. You walked closer to get a look.

It was a set of five rings. Though they looked initially plain, the closer you inspected them, you saw the beauty within the craftsmanship. They were intricately engraved, small patterns dancing along the metal. But the part that caught the eye the most was the gorgeous gems set into each of them. Each one had a different color, gold, pink, blue, green, and red. You marveled over the rings and were pleasantly surprised to see that the rings had some minor magic, so they could be resized on their own. 

You looked and saw they had a special deal if you bought the whole set. Your eyes lingered on the rings for a moment more. How perfect this would be as a gift for your champions. A smile appeared on your face as you thought about it. You glanced back at the bag where you held your gold. Maybe if you had left over gold you could come back for these. 

“I don’t think this place has what I’m looking for.” You told the swordsman, striding over to him. You stood slightly in the way of the rings. You didn’t think he’d notice them since it didn’t align with the idea you had for Bi-Han. But still, you wanted to keep it a surprise, just in case. Luckily, it seemed that Kenshi hadn’t noticed where you had gone.

“I agree, especially since this place is geared towards accessories.” Kenshi replied. He nodded in the direction of the door, his hand gesturing for you to lead the way. You did just that, managing to glance back at the rings one last time. You knew that if you did, Kenshi would be likely to notice with how much he’s been noticing your stares. Then again, you supposed that’s because your stares towards the swordsman were rather…obvious. Still, you wouldn’t put it past him to notice the little things.

And so, both you and the ex yakuza member were back on the streets. But not for long. This time, Kenshi pointed out a shop. At first, you hesitated, gazing at all the porcelain cups and teapots. You weren’t certain if these ceramics would be an ideal gift, but then your eyes landed on a particular teapot set in the window. You were so fascinated by it that you stepped inside to get a better look.

The teapot set in question was delftware styled. The blue painted ceramic was decorated to be depicting a snowy wonderland with snow leopards as the main focus. Your eyes studied the set carefully, marveling over it. It had some gold accents around the rim, giving it that extra pop. It even came with a little tea pet, a snow leopard. At first, you couldn’t imagine gifting Bi-Han such an item, but the more you marveled over it, the more you couldn’t imagine giving him anything else.

“With the way you’re looking at that, I think I did my job.” Kenshi remarked, walking up next to you. You smiled over to him, and you saw on his face a very pleased expression. He crossed his arms as he took his gaze from you over to the set. “It’s miraculous how cheap these items are here, back in Earthrealm, these would be worth a fortune.”

“I can’t believe it either.” You agreed with a nod. You eyed the price. It definitely was cheaper than you would expect, but the quality didn’t seem terrible despite it. Looking at it for a few more moments, you nodded once more. “I think this is the one.” You told your companion. Kenshi hummed, his eyes lingering on your decided gift before pointing to something else. 

“While we’re at it, you should probably get him some tea.” The swordsman recommended. Your eyes landed on the displays of various teas they had. You walked over, noting how they felt similar in style to the dried teas you served for Madam Bo. On a closer look, some of the teas even appeared to be the same. For a brief moment, you wondered whether a long time ago Earthrealm had some of their teas imported here. It didn’t seem too far off an idea.

You scanned the various teas they had on display. For a moment, you considered picking a tea unique to Outworld. But then you considered how awful it’d feel to gift something that he might enjoy, but then never be able to savor once again in his lifetime. For that reason, you decided it might be better to chose something that he may be able to get at home. 

One particular tea caught your eye.

You grabbed the box of the high quality tea, inspecting it. You had never considered this to be made into tea. You couldn’t help but to smile down at the box, too amazed at the fact that tea was a thing. You held it up to show to Kenshi who quirked up a brow.

“Parsley tea?” He asked, eyeing the box carefully. His voice sounded skeptical. You shrugged, but you already knew that the moment you had laid eyes on this particular type of tea, you were going to buy it. Something within you simply told you that it just fit him. That, and you couldn’t deny that you were interested in how it tasted. From the look Kenshi gave you, he seemed to know you were already set in your ways.

With a little pep in your step, you walked over to the Outworlder at the counter. After discussing which set you wanted along with the parsley tea, you soon found yourself back onto the streets with a very nicely wrapped gift in your hands. As you were walking back, satisfied with your findings today, you spied the shop with the rings you had looked at earlier. 

“Could you hold this for a moment?” You asked the man. You swiftly handed him the gift and quickly walked off into the shop, ignoring the perplexed look the swordsman had sent you. You couldn’t blame him, you had said you only needed one more gift. 

Stepping inside, you were thrilled to see that the rings you had your eye on were still there. Elated, you quickly asked the clerk for the rings. The centaruian seemed more than happy to oblige, giving you a few boxes to carry them in. You slipped the gold one on, eyeing how the light seemed to reflect off of it perfectly. The rest you slipped into your bag. You wanted to keep them a surprise for now.

Checking the money you had left, you were delighted to see you had enough to buy one more gift. That would be reserved for Liu Kang. 

“Find everything you needed?” Kenshi inquired. He peered at you, his eye catching the sight of your new found accessory. You nodded, beaming happily at the man. You reached out, hands extended to take back the boxes. Despite this, you found the man pulled away from you, boxes clutched securely to his own chest. “It’s fine, I don’t mind carrying them.” He insisted.

“I don’t want to burden you with them.” You said, furrowing your brows. You made a reach for the boxes again, but the man simply side stepped your attempt. You sighed, placing a hand on your hip. “This is rather childish of you, Kenshi.” You chided, trying to see if you could convince him to give back the gifts. And yet, despite your words, the man was adamant. You sighed once more, shaking your head. “If you insist.”

“I do.” The swordsman quipped back, a victorious tone in his voice. You resisted an eye roll and made your way back to the palace. Once there, you led the ex yakuza member back to your room since he insisted on helping them carry them back all the way back there. As you finally regained the packages, you peered at him for a moment before opening your door. “Wait a moment for me, okay?” You asked.

You stepped into the room, placing your packages along with the other gifts you’ve bought. You removed the rings from the bags, admiring them once more. For a moment, you considered bringing them all in so you could give them at dinner time, but then you paused, remembering you hadn’t gotten Liu Kang’s gift quite yet and how awkward it might seem. Plus, you fancied the idea of giving the gifts privately. It would seem more personal that way.

“Thank you for waiting.” You said as you strode out. You placed your hands behind your back, hiding the little box. You supposed you were as sneaky as a toddler attempting to hide whatever mess they’ve made, because Kenshi quickly sent you a questioning look and leaned over to try and peek. “Here.” You handed over the box, scanning his features for his reaction. “A gift.”

“You didn’t have to.” Kenshi said, his voice shocked. He tried to hand back the box to you, but you pushed into his hands. After that, he relented. He scanned the box, probably trying to guess the present before he opened the box. You felt elated as you watched his surprised reaction to the ring. He lifted it up, watching with amazement as he slipped it onto his finger and it fit perfectly. “This is…” He trailed off, trying to find the right words.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” You remarked. You held up your hand to showcase your golden ring. “I thought this would be the perfect present for all of us.” You then gestured to the red ring. “I chose that color specifically for you.”

“Why red?” Kenshi inquired, looking between the ring on his hand and you. You smiled at him, a small laugh leaving your lips as you looked directly into his eyes.

“Simple. I think it matches your eyes wonderfully.” You explain to him. A soft flush appeared on Kenshi’s face, and he appeared to have been stunned into silence. His mouth closed, then opened, then closed once more. Then, a soft smile appeared on his face as his gaze cast downwards to the ring on his hand once more.

“Thank you.” Kenshi mumbled softly. You grinned at him and placed a hand on his arm. 

“No problem, I’m glad you like the gift.” You told him. “Now let’s go, I’m hungry.” You walked off, leading the way. You missed the fond gaze Kenshi sent you way, taking one more glance between the ring and you before following you.

Dinner went smoothly, and it was just as delicious as before. You were tempted to make plans to go shopping for some Outworld type of seasonings before you left so you could cook up some food the reminded you of this place. Maybe if you had left over money after Liu Kang’s gift.

It was yet another wonderful night in the garden. You basked in the moonlight as you waited patiently for the princess to emerge from the palace. You perked up as you heard the familiar sound of heels, and smiled as your eyes landed on the princess. 

Oddly enough, there was not the more prestigious and refined look that she usually held. Her face held something that reminded you of the first time you encountered her here. She seemed…upset. You raised your eyebrows as she drew near. When she noted you in the spot, her face shifted, masking her previous attitude with a smile.

It reminded you of Empress Sindel’s smile towards Raiden.

“Are you alright?” You inquired, testing the waters. You saw her smile strain, like a string being pulled nearly too taut. Her hands, which had been folded in her lap, squeezed together as if she were squeezing out her frustration. 

“I’m fine.” Mileena replied, her words clipped. You couldn’t sense any hostility within her words, but you could tell that asking about her situation would probably be unwise. You didn’t blame her, you weren’t that close after all. You nodded slowly, taking her attitude into consideration. “How have you been?” She inquired quickly, eager to divert the topic of conversation.

“I’ve been fine, I went and shopped more today.” You told her with a smile. You could read the signs of her frayed nerves and played along with her plan, changing the conversation away from herself. You saw her eyes dart to your hands. You looked down and saw the ring. You lifted your hand to showcase it, allowing her to get a better view.

“I can see that.” The princess observed. She leaned in closer, analyzing the accessory and how it fit on your finger. You saw her expression change slightly, going from a more fake look to a more genuine smile. She looked at it for a few moments more before leaning back and looking at you. “It suits you, you have a good eye.”

“Thank you.” You replied, staring down at the golden gem which shone so prettily in the moonlight. You smiled, still feeling the high of making a satisfying purchase. You paused, considering what to talk about next due to her slightly antsy mood. “How was your day, princess? I’m excited to see how you fare against Earthrealm’s champion tomorrow.”

“My day was alright.” Mileena replied, her eyes looking away into the garden. There was almost an empty tone to her voice, as if she were not telling the entire truth. She rolled her shoulders back as she cleared her throat. “I…” She began, then paused, her face scrunching a bit as she seemed to ponder on the words she would say next. “I am interested to see how I fare against him as well.” She replied, the same smile from earlier appearing on her lips. 

You couldn’t tell entirely, but you could sense the aversion towards the topic of fighting. Was it that she was nervous? You scanned her. No, it didn’t seem so. But the reason behind her distaste towards the topic was one you weren’t certain of.

You couldn’t quite ask her about it either.

“What story would you like to hear today?” You inquired, quickly changing the subject. You saw her posture relax a bit, and what must be a breath of relief left her lips. Very subtle actions, but actions you noticed. You suspicions were definitely correct, she had some type of issue with fighting Raiden, or the topic of it. 

“Anything light hearted would do.” The princess requested, the relief of the topic change showing on her face. You pondered on this, humming as you considered the various stories and movies you’ve seen. What could possibly cheer her up? You smiled as you recalled the first movie you saw and turned to face her.

“Alright, then how about this one?”

That night, you didn’t quite know why she was upset, but you knew you uplifted her spirits.

part sixteen

tagged - @bonezisded @lollipopin @simpxinnie @zhivaxo @koisuko

[sophiamarieispinkbunny-chan]

The Chair Theory Part 2

Yuri, Fiona and Damian’s Chair

This is a continuation of this post, but if you want the summary of the post, I’ve shared my thoughts about how the seating capacity or size of the designer chairs in the volume cover of each manga represents the relationship with others of the person sitting there. I’ve also shared my thoughts on how the comedic inside covers is connected to the person sitting in the cover and the person who sits in the chair in those funny inside chapters are the person who understands the person in the cover the most.

So now let’s move to Volume 5-7 and maybe I’ll analyze Yuri alongside Fiona since I’ve already tackled some of Fiona in the recent post when I compared it to Yor, but her cover and inside cover has some similarities with Yuri that I found interesting.

Volume 5 & 6, Yuri’s Barcelona Chair and Fiona’s Heart Cone Chair

Because of the position of the chair in the cover, it’s actually hard to see how big exactly the chair Yuri is sitting on, but based on most Barcelona Chair pictures that I see, it is spacious but it seem to only fit one. It could fit two but I think it’ll be uncomfortable, and Yuri seems to be taking a lot of space, indicating he doesn’t want anyone to sit there with him. I think this indicates how, even though he is now in the position that allows him to have relationships with others, he limits himself from doing this, only revolving his world around his sister. It is true Yuri is open and friendly (just not to Loid because he’s her sister’s husband) but he isn’t interested in having an intimate or deep relationship with anyone other than Yor.

I’ve already discussed how the seating capacity of Fiona’s chair indicates her selfish desire to be loved by Twilight. However, even though she loves Twilight, she will never be in a position to accept him for she didn’t love him for who he really was. He was not the perfect spy she deemed him to be. He has flaws, fears and doubts and Yor was the one who sees that everyday and embraces all his imperfections. (I have more to say about her but I've decided to put them in a separate post for I think it's going to be a long one)

So this is the part where we can notice similarities between Yuri and Fiona. Compared to the first four volumes, their inside cover wasn’t something that happens in reality. Both of their inside covers are the fantasies in their minds (notice that's its inside a thought's bubble), their deepest desires; Yuri wants to torture Loid for him and his sister to divorce their marriage (we can see him holding that divorce paper in his hand and also Loid was sitting in a different chair in the cover) while Fiona wants to marry Twilight (We can see her in a wedding dress holding a marriage certificate which opposes the one on Yuri’s and yeah she’s still the one sitting on her chair). And in Fiona’s cover, we also see her desire to get rid of Yor, the same as how Yuri wants to get rid of Loid.

But those things aren’t real, they are trapped in those fantasies and both of them seem to have no grasp of reality or are refusing to admit it. Their inside covers could also display how Yuri is Twilight's antagonist while Fiona is Yor's.

Volume 7- Damian’s Willow Chair

The Seating Capacity

Damian’s chair is too big for a little kid like him as Endo pointed out. He’s also sitting in the middle like Anya, reserving the spots on both sides for their parents. Damian craves for that familial love that was devoid of him. He always felt like he needed to prove himself and work hard in school just to be praised and get attention from his parents. That is why even though he wants to be as laid-back as Anya, and play and be like a normal kid, he can’t because he doesn’t want to disappoint. That is why all of the toys are hidden behind the chair. It was the desire to be a kid that he’s keeping within his heart. 

Oh look, a number 7 pool ball was in front. It could be because this was volume 7 but we all know Anya’s experimental number is 007 too right? Could it just be a coincidence? Maybe… or maybe not.

But in the comedic inside cover, Anya is the one sitting on his chair. Yes, Becky is also there and so is Emile and Ewen but it was Anya who was sitting there, copying his pose. Connecting to my first post, this means that the one who understands him the most is Anya. Besides from being the one who knows what’s on his mind, they were both seeking familial love and acceptance. They are both motivated by receiving praise and acknowledgement by their Fathers particularly. But Damian seems to be serious like what he looks on his cover while Anya could still be a kid and be funny inside of the Forger family.

I love how in the fan book, in Anya’s character profile, it wasn’t Loid and Yor that was in her relationship tab at the bottom, it was Loid and Damian. (Please excuse my annotations 😅)

And for the covers of both these guys, she was the one sitting in their chairs, making the serious covers comedic.

I interpret this how she is the one who makes both of Loid and Damian’s life lighter and happier and how both Loid and Damian are concealing or denying the love they feel for Anya, in terms of Loid, his love for her as a father that is way beyond the mission and for Damian, his crush on Anya that he can’t admit out of pride and embarrassment.

Okay so that concludes the second part of the chair theory. I don’t actually have a lot to say about Volume 8-13, and I don’t know what Franky’s, Becky’s and Emile and Ewen’s inside covers are. I saw the raw but I can’t understand what they’re saying. So maybe I’ll conclude the chair theory through this post for now.

I'll deal with Fiona on my next post because I just realized something but let me gather the evidences first.

[victoria-daydreams]

The Hare and The Tower

Chapter Fourteen: Vile Rumors

AN: *scratches neck* yeah so remember when I said this chapter would be out a couple weeks after I posted that preview, well I got an upper respiratory infection literally that same week and between trying to recuperate, work, and school this was put on the back burner. Hopefully, with this chapter being long it makes up for the absence. And God help me, it's been so long since I've written anything so be easy on me lol.

Trigger Warnings: age gap, vomiting

Word Count: 5.3k

Taglist: @dogmatic255 @sidechrevans @amethystwonders11 @ladysindar @sweetwanderlust05 @newandykes @helloimlateforeverything @loveofvernonslife @stitchattacks @dariequeen @kishie8 @girlonfireice @snowymarvel1205 @greenlightower @harrypotteranna23-blog

If you want to be added to the taglist just leave a comment.

Summary: Still reeling from the fallout with Otto, Jesmyn is quickly forced to learn two harsh lessons. The transgressions of her husband are also hers to bear and brazen half-truths are worse than lies.

Chapter Fifteen: We Light the Way

A terrible dread washed through Jesmyn as she approached the carved, oak door ahead of her. The corridor was far too dark, too quiet. Her body felt heavy, and the air was akin to molasses—each step closer seeming to take a greater effort than the one before. Fear, panic, and apprehension coiled and collided within her, the onslaught of emotions created a horrible churning, stomach twisting vortex.

Coming to a standstill just outside of the door, she reached out with a trembling hand to knock on the door, but froze in mid-air.

"I've been informed I'm to travel to Driftmark with Princess Rhaenyra. We sail at dawn," Jesmyn announced quietly, her hand limply dropping back to her side.

Standing outside of Otto's bedchamber door, a shiver ran down her spine for the night seemed colder than most. Jesmyn could only stare at the warped flaws in the wood, waiting for a reply, but ultimately was met by silence. Jesmyn strained her ears for a sign of movement behind his door, for she knew he was awake, and he knew that she knew it as well. With each passing second, Jesmyn felt her heart turn into lead, sinking down further and further in her chest. She remained silent for a few more moments.

"I'm here to bid you farewell Husband, as we part on our separate journeys," she continued, placing her hand on the door. "You are angry at me, this I know," she acknowledged, releasing a shaky breath. "But I will not depart without speaking these words. I love you Otto," she said. 'Despite the harsh words we traded, my heart remains yours. Should anything—"

Forcefully, the door swung open drawing a startled gasp from her as the heat of husband’s gaze burned into her own. Otto's expression was unreadable as ever, his jaw was set tight while his mouth a thin line. They held each others stare for a few seconds, both waiting for the other to say something. Jesmyn broke first.

"I will not let our last words be ones we regret," she said firmly

Another long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Still, Otto only stared at her, an act which only began to draw Jesmyn's ire. She knew her husband well enough that she didn't expect an immediate reconciliation, but the hope was there in her mind. To her, this silence she was being subjected was bordering on ridiculous, did he not comprehend her words? She was set to sail on the unpredictable waters of the sea.

"I see," Jesmyn said softly, with a nod. "I shouldn't have came. I'm sorry for disturbing you," she apologized, dropping her eyes from him to the floor. "May sleep find you well, Husband," she wished, before turning away from Otto.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Jesmyn walked back down the corridor to her own chambers. The sun will be up again in a few hours or so.

"You posses both beauty and brawn,"

A velvety voice broke through the silence, lingering in the air like a caress. Jesmyn froze in place, mid-step, before slowly turning back around. Once more, her brown eyes stared at Otto’s blue and for the first time she finally noticed the tiredness around his eyes; the way his face was paler than usual. Their argument had taken its toll on him far more than he would let on.

"It's why I was so keen on securing your hand in marriage," Otto continued, deeply exhaling as he moved towards her. "Yet, your intellect fails you when it comes to Rhaenyra. Too blinded by friendship to recognize it is very the manner of how she manipulates you," Otto noted, coming to a stop in front of her. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against Jesmyn's hairline. "Knowingly or not," he uttered, before kissing the top of her head and lingering there for a bit.

Otto drew back and pushed the few loose hairs from where his lips had touched.

"Otto," Jesmyn whispered, leaning into his embrace.

But as quickly as his embrace came, he retreated from her. Entering his chambers, Otto spared one last glance at Jesmyn before he shut the door.

~~~x~~~

The Next Day

Sitting on the quarterdeck, needle and thread in hand, Jesmyn listened to the waves gently crash against the sides of the ship; the wood creaking as they swayed in the ocean. One by one, Jesmyn's needle stabbed through the white fabric. Her stitches small and perfect, forming the shape of the High Tower of Oldtown, its beacon unlit.

Unconsciously, she let out a breath, slow and heavy, while pulling the needle through again. All of the events from the day before still weighed heavily on her mind.

"Your stomach must be made out of cast iron, Lady Hightower," Criston said warmly

With a grin, Jesmyn looked away from her work to the knight standing in front of her.

"It has a mind of its own," she replied. "Some days I'm the vision of perfect health. Other days—"

Not too far off in the distance, Viserys groaned loudly before vomiting over the edge of the ship.

"Not unlike that, I suppose?" he questioned, slightly amused.

"Very much that," she agreed, laughing lightly. She felt her babe kicked her, as if to express its agreement. "Poor man," she added, shaking her head and glancing at the ailing king.

"Lady Hightower, may I ask you something?" Criston inquired, bringing her attention back to him.

"Of course," Jesmyn answered, a kind smile on her lips. "And there's no need for titles, we're not in front of the court. Jesmyn will be just fine," she corrected. "Ask your question Criston, my ears are open," she encouraged, gently laying down her sewing into her lap.

"Before you married Lord Hightower, did you ever think about... running away?" he asked, an unfamiliar tinge of anxiety in his words. "Freeing yourself from the duties and responsibilities unfairly placed upon you?" he went on.

Jesmyn chuckled softly, "What highborn girl hasn't?" she asked back, her shoulders slightly bouncing with humor. To answer your question, I have Criston, many times, ashamedly," she confessed.

"What stopped you?"

"Well, my family of course. I would miss them so very dearly," Jesmyn explained, as if it was obvious. "Gods, I couldn't begin to imagine the heartache my mother and father would suffer," Jesmyn continued, shaking her head. "Not only that, for my entire life I've known nothing but comfort and privilege. The thought of discarding that to be free, but poor is…unthinkable," she finished, her brows knitting together.

"Is that what most highborn girls believe?"

"I have no doubt they do," Jesmyn insisted confidently. "Make no mistake Criston, we highborn girls may constantly bemoan and complain about what is expected of us, but we know what's at stake if we don't," she assured. "I don't mean to offend, but I must say, you’re asking such strange question Criston. Why? Jesmyn wondered, her curiosity piqued.

Criston shifted from one foot to the other, "What if there was a highborn girl…one who was willing to runaway and forget all she's ever known?" he posed.

"Is she running away by herself?" Jesymn questioned, her brow furrowing.

"No, with her lover," he answered, hesitating between sentences. "Her lover who wants to take her away from everything she despises about her station,"

"Criston," Jesmyn called lowly. "Tell me, which highborn lady do you speak of?" she inquired, curiosity now morphing into concern.

"It's only a hypothetical, milady," Criston uttered, making Jesmyn's eyes narrow in suspicion. "But, should this lover and his lady runaway, know he would bring her unimaginable happiness," he said. "He has heard his lady's complaints, and wishes to free her from it all," he claimed, hope shining in his eyes.

"Criston, whatever you're thinking about doing, stop," Jesmyn stressed. "This will only end poorly for both of you," she warned.

"You don’t believe she would except my proposal,"

"Whoever this Lady is, It’s unlikely she would," she replied bluntly, with a scoff. "She's not going to give up her titles, her land, or riches for some lowb—” she continued, abruptly letting out a sharp gasp.

Her sewing needle had bit into the tip of her finger. Jesmyn couldn’t begin to recall when she had grasped her embroidery again. Crimson quickly rose to the surface of her skin, falling in heavy drops.

"My Lady!"

"I'm fine," Jesmyn reassured quickly, grabbing her handkerchief and pressing it to wound.

Silently, she was thankful for the prick against her finger, her next words would’ve crushed Criston’s hopeless romantic heart

~~~x~~~

The wagon ride to High Tide was one of bumpiness and strained silence. Lord Lyonel Strong, the new Lord Hand sat directly across from Jesmyn, casting glances of pity at her much to her annoyance. She didn't want his pity nor did she need it. Rhaenyra was seated next to her, refusing to spare her father a glance.

For the last stretch of the ride to the castle, the party had to leave the wagon and walk to the stone archway gate. Reaching the top of the stairs, the doors swung open to reveal High Tide in all its glory. Towers made out of gray stone and crowned with roofs of silver that reached high into the gloomy skies above.

The sound of steel clanging against each other drew Jesmyn's eyes away from the grandeur castle and to the two figures sparring a few feet away from the royal entourage. One possessed silver hair which she easily knew belonged to Laenor Velaryon, the other with red hair was unknown to her. The two men bowed in front of the party. It was also in that moment when Jesmyn realized no one was there to greet them.

"How odd," she thought.

"Where is Lord Corlys?" Lord Strong asked, annoyed and offended by the disrespect. "He should be here to receive the King," he reminded.

Lord Strong's words barely left his lips when the doors to the castle opened and a silver-haired man and woman descended the staircase The young woman could be none other than Lady Laena Velaryon.

"Welcome to High Tide, Your Grace," Laena greeted, with a bright smile on her face as she gracefully came down the steps.

"What is the meaning of this, Lady Laena?" Lord Strong demanded pointedly, taking a few steps forward. "Is this how House Velaryon greets its King?"

Lady Laena's smile remained, "My father has but just returned from his long journey and he has hastened to the Hall of Nine to await Your Grace's arrival," she explained easily, walking closer to them.

"Let's just get on with it," Viserys stated tiredly.

With that, everyone followed Lady Laena into High Tide. Jesmyn looked at the King from the corner of her eye, his brow glistening with sweat from the trek up here and his breathing heavier than anyone else's. It was worrisome to see Viserys’ health rapidly deteriorating before her eyes. The effects of his worsening illness had sucked away the luster of his healthy complexion and been replaced with a sickly white color. From what Otto told her, poorly healed wounds littered Viserys' body and the cost of that led to having two fingers on one hand removed. It's why he always wore gloves nowadays.

Once Viserys and Lord Strong walked inside the Hall of Nine, the guards immediately closed the door before Rhaenyra, Laena, or Jesmyn could enter themselves.

From her left, Jesmyn heard Rhaenyra let out an annoyed huff. Jesmyn could hear the Princess' thoughts without having to have them spoken. First, father decided who she should marry and now she's not even allowed to join the conversation.

"Come," Laena said as she intertwined her arms on Rhaenyra's and Jesmyn's. "Let us see what might be had to break our fast,"

~~~x~~~

The three girls conversed with one another while enjoying a fine breakfast. After about an hour or two, Laena gave Jesmyn and Rhaenyra a tour of High Tide. When their tour concluded, Rhaenyra decided to depart from the group so she could speak privately with her betrothed. Laena followed suit, being escorted back to her room by one of her servants for a dress fitting. This left Jesmyn to her own devices.

Leaning over on the outdoor balcony railing, Jesmyn exhaled as she gazed out at the ocean. The view was something straight from a painting. Above, the sun beamed down onto the gentle waves below her causing the water to take on a tint of gold. It was beautiful—breathtaking, really. The ocean reminded her of his eyes. They were deep, powerful, and sometimes mysterious, yet always comforting and gentle. Jesmyn smiled inwardly at the thought, wondering how Otto is fairing on his trip back to Oldtown.

Glancing down, Jesmyn could see the silhouettes of Rhaenyra and Laenor far off in the distance on the sandy shore.

"I must admit, I was surprised to learn of your presence amongst the voyage with the royal party,"

Jesmyn's breath caught itself in her throat, startled by the voice. Turning away from the railing, Jesmyn did not anticipate to see Princess Rhaenys in front of her.

She dropped into a curtsy, "Princess Rhaenys," she greeted, lowering her head. "It's an honor," she added sincerely.

"I hear a congratulations is in order," Rhaenys said, motioning for her to rise. "Laena told me you are with child once more, Lady Hightower"

"I am, Princess Rhaenys," Jesmyn answered, beaming ear to ear. "Thank you," she said, dipping her chin slightly.

"This will be your third child, correct?" Rhaenys questioned curiously.

"Yes," Jesmyn replied, her hand instinctively coming to rest on the bump. "There were some complications in my last pregnancy, but Lord Hightower and I made it through," she informed, rubbing her hand up and down her stomach.

"If you are here, I'm curious to know where is the Lord Hightower?" Rhaenys wondered. "Seeing as he has fallen out of the King’s favor," she reminded.

"My Lord Husband is returning to Oldtown," Jesmyn informed. "No doubt he’s already making the long journey back to The Reach," she guessed.

"You will not be joining him?"

"No, I will not, neither will the twins. King's Landing will remain our home," Jesmyn answered. "Princess Rhaenyra offered me the position of being her lady in waiting a day before my husband's dismal," she explained. "I accepted,"

Rhaenys only hummed, her eyes doing a once over of Jesmyn, "I can't imagine your husband was enthused about this arrangement,"

"Livid more like," Jesmyn corrected, a mirthless chuckle escaping her lips.

"And yet, this outcome, unfavorable as it is, Lord Hightower still managed to succeed in one aspect," Rhaenys said, her gaze turning into a calculated one. "Albeit, a small one," she added pointedly.

"And that is?" Jesmyn asked, not liking the shift of mood in the air.

"You, Lady Hightower," Rhaenys answered simply. "Who better to be his eyes and ears while he's away from court than his own wife, a lady in waiting to Princess Rhaenyra herself," she said, making Jesmyn's eyes bulge.

"I-I would never—" Jesmyn spluttered.

"There are things we think ourselves never capable of doing, but we wound up doing them all the same," Rhaenys cut in, taking a step closer to her. "Loyalty, seems to be a weakness for Lord Hightower. When push comes to shove, we'll discover together if you share that same weakness as your Lord Husband, Lady Hightower," she finished in a whisper, as Jesmyn visibly shrank back from the icy glare.

~~~x~~~

King's Landing

With a cold stare, Jesmyn scanned the near lifeless shell that was supposed to serve as her living quarters from now on. It was a downgrade from The Tower, but pleasant nonetheless. The space was cozily furnished, echoing the opulence and expensiveness of the quarters she resided in with her family when she was unmarried.

Unceremoniously, Jesmyn allowed herself to plop down onto the plush settee before maneuvering her body to lay flat on her back. A loud, exhausted sigh came from her as her head rested on the arm of the settee, one of her ankles dangled off the cushion. Jesmyn's entire morning had been chaotic since the moment the ship sailed from Driftmark back to King's Landing.

Standing at the quarterdeck, Jesmyn watched the foamy waves as they rocked the ship through the water. A light sea wind blew against her, moving her hair slightly into her face. It all happened so fast, one moment she was admiring the sun shining brightly in the clear blue sky. Then, Criston storming off in her direction, his mood darkening anything in the vicinity and cryptically uttering three words bitterly as he passed, "You were right,"

Lest she forget the most startling occurrence of the morning, King Viserys collapsing to the ground after taking one step outside the wheelhouse in King's Landing. A shocking scene to witness, but Jesmyn's mind couldn’t have been further elsewhere. Since last night, she remained in a sour mood after her conversation with Princess Rhaenys, which she knew Rhaenyra had noticed the change in her demeanor.

What was she supposed tell her? That her older cousin accused her of being just as deceitful as her husband was and attacked her character? Rhaenyra would only brush it off as Princess Rhaenys' personality of not being one to mince words or her usual cynicism. To keep her sanity, Jesmyn decided to remain silent and to brood, her feelings had been dismissed more than enough times in the past two days, she was ready to snap if it happened once more.

Slowly, Jesmyn's eyes began to droop low, the toll of the voyage beginning to weigh on her body.

"Lady Hightower," a handmaiden called softly.

Jesmyn's eyes fluttered open, shifting them to the young girl in front of her, "Yes?" she answered irritatedly.

"You've been summoned," the handmaiden informed.

Exhaling heavily, Jesmyn swung her feet to the floor and pushed herself up from the settee into a sitting position. An action her baby was not particularly fond of as they gave a sharp kick in her kidneys which caused her to suck in air and wince. Gently, Jesmyn rubbed circles on her stomach to calm her baby down before gingerly standing up.

"Am I to meet Princess Rhaenyra in her quarters?" Jesmyn asked, her hand resting on her bump.

"It wasn’t the Princess who summoned you, milady," the handmaiden corrected, making Jesmyn's eyebrow arch. "The Queen wishes to see you,"

The journey to Alicent's chambers was longer than it should have, inexplicably she began to feel nauseous with every step she took forcing her to make several stops along the way. Standing outside the Queen's private chamber door, Jesmyn squeezed her eyes closed and pushed out a deep breath.

A handmaiden opened the door, allowing her to enter the room, but Jesmyn's steps faltered when she realized Alicent was not alone. Criston was inside as well. The door shut behind her and Jesmyn curtsied to Alicent.

"My Queen—" she began, but stopped when she felt her stomach attempting to leap out of her throat. Jesmyn clamped her hand over her mouth, trying to quell the nausea.

"Oh you poor thing!" Alicent comforted, standing up from her seat and rushing towards her. "Has the voyage left you ill?" she asked, her eyes sympathetic as she helped Jesmyn to her full height from her bow before leading her to the sofa she occupied only moments before.

"It's nothing," Jesmyn reassured, watching Alicent sit back down. "I just need to lay down and this sickness will pass,” she explained.

"Then I will try to make this quick," Alicent stated, which made Jesmyn cock her head slightly. "Sit, why don't you," she suggested nervously, patting the empty cushion beside her.

"I am not fragile Alicent, honest," Jesmyn said, chuckling at her friend’s fretting.

"As you wish," Alicent said, with a nod and an uneasy smile. "I…I—how should I say this?" she questioned, but it was directed towards herself.

Jesmyn frowned at the swift change of mood from Alicent and glanced over to Criston. Briefly, he met her stare before guiltily lowering his eyes to the floor.

"Has some—"

"Rhaenyra lied to you!"

The sharpness of Alicent's interjection struck Jesmyn with icy coldness as she slowly digested her words. Jesmyn's heart faltered a beat, an invisible dagger plunging into it. A pressure on her chest.

"No…no…" she choked out in denial, slowly shaking her head back and forth.

Jesmyn's stomach suddenly twisted itself violently into a tighter knot than it had earlier. For a moment, she could feel nothing, and yet everything all at once. She couldn't speak, her body going numb, feeling light and heavy at the same time. Jesmyn was scarcely capable of forming a coherent thought. Rage, horror, sadness, and betrayal coursed through her, fighting each other for dominance.

"S-She swore on her mother's grave!" she whispered to herself. "She swore on her mother's grave!" she repeated, in near frenzy.

To remain standing any longer was a growing challenge for Jesmyn by the second, when finally her trembling legs gave out beneath her. She sank down onto the sofa, a fog clouding her mind while dizziness spun through her skull. Jesmyn's heart pounded in her ears, filling her head with noise. She couldn't hear anything outside the deafening sounds of her own breath. Otto's words from last night gradually became deafening in her head.

"Too blinded by friendship to recognize it is very the manner of how she manipulates you,"

Faintly, Jesmyn thought she heard her name, but couldn’t make out the owner of the voice saying it.

"Jesmyn?" the voice asked, somewhere in the distance

Suddenly, a pair of hands, that were soft yet firm, grasped her own. They forced Jesmyn from her daze, causing her eyes to snap up to meet Alicent's.

"Rhaenyra wouldn't do that to me," Jesmyn said, her voice hoarse and sounding nothing like her own. "I—I value our friendship so dearly, I went against my own beloved husband," she continued airily, still feeling far, far away from her body.

"It's true, Jesmyn," Alicent reaffirmed, squeezing her hands. "She lied to you, to us," she shifted her stare to Criston. "Tell her Ser Criston," she demanded.

"Lady Hightower, it was I who laid with Princess Rhaenyra that night," Criston confessed, looking down in shame.

Jesmyn swallowed Criston's confession bitterly, "She told the truth, on a technicality," she said, inhaling a deep breath and shuddering slightly. "Daemon didn't fuck her in that pleasure house, but it was you who took her maidenhood?"

"Yes, My Lady,"

A gasping, broken sob reverberated in the air, "W-What have I done? My marriage is in…ruins ….and for what? Jesmyn wondered, her voice wavering as her words came out in short breaths. "I–I need to write Otto, I—" she went on, until her stomach lurched suddenly and Jesmyn gasped. "I think I'm going to be sick,"

Swiftly, a chamberpot was held out in front of her which Jesmyn snatched into her grasp before hurling into it, spewing out her meal from earlier in the morning. She remained in the same position for a while, still retching.

"Thank the gods, a servant just cleaned that and left it here," Alicent commented, rubbing Jesmyn’s back.

Raising her face from the chamberpot, Jesmyn's stomach twisted uncomfortably at the sight of the contents within the pot. Gingerly, she placed the pot down onto the table, fearing that she'd throw up again if she stared at it too long.

"Alicent, I'm so sorry you had to bear witness to that," Jesmyn quavered, reclining against the sofa and clutching her stomach. "You as well, Sir Criston," she added, looking over to him.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Alicent stated.

"I must go," Jesmyn announced shakily, dabbing the corners of her mouth with the inside of her wrist. "Arrangements need to be made," she informed, standing up.

The abrupt movement caused stars to dance in front of her eyes. Jesmyn’s hand shot out to grip the back of the sofa chair to steady herself, feeling her heart rate speed up.

"Jesmyn?"

She waved her hand dismissively, "I'm fine," Jesmyn assured, with a tight smile despite exhaustion creeping over her.

"Are you sure, Lady Hightower?" Criston questioned.

"I said I’m fine Sir Criston!" Jesmyn repeated sharply, releasing her grip from the couch and righting herself.

Taking a few steps forward, Jesmyn felt herself sway on her feet while her sight became strangely blurred. She blinked in rapid succession, blood pounding wildly in her ears and drowning out all sounds around her. Unsteadily, she moved forward again, however this time Jesmyn could no longer feel the floor beneath her feet. The room began to spin right before Jesmyn's eyes, rendering her sense of direction completely null. Darkness crept around the edges of her blurred vision, forcing her to close her eyes and orient herself. It was a misguided action to take.

Once her eyes shut, her knees buckled beneath her sending her collapsing to the floor.

~~~x~~~

Jesmyn awoke with a start, her eyes snapping open as a startled gasp escaped her. Wildly, her eyes darted around in confusion and panic as she took in her surroundings. A few seconds passed before Jesmyn realized she was in her bed within her new quarters, safe. Squeezing her eyes shut, Jesmyn exhaled heavily and rubbed her hand over her eyes. When she reopened her eyes, Alicent stood just inches away from the foot of her bed.

"Gods!" Jesmyn exclaimed, her body jolting with fright.

"Apologies, I didn't intend to scare you," Alicent said gently. "I heard rustling from within here, and came to check on you," she explained.

Carefully, Jesmyn pushed herself up from the bed and leaned back against the headboard.

"What happened?" Jesmyn asked, blinking and rubbing her eyes once more.

"You fainted," Alicent answered, looking over her in concern. "It all happened so quickly, you were unsteady on your feet, then you just crumbled to the floor. I don’t know what was worse, seeing you collapse or hearing it. Scared Ser Criston and I to death,"

Jesmyn's hand shot down to her stomach, "My baby—""

"Is just fine," Alicent cut in reassuringly. "Maester Mellos assured me as much," she answered, causing Jesmyn to let a sigh of relief. "How are you feeling now?" Alicent questioned.

"A bit dizzy, still," Jesmyn replied, turning her head to look out the window to see the sun was beginning to set. "I could only imagine what your father would say if he witnessed my fainting spell," she remarked, a small grin creeping on her lips.

"Probably forbid you from ever leaving the bed and have you waited on hand and foot" she joked, and the girls shared a laugh with each other.

Jesmyn faced Alicent again, "By the Seven, Otto's fussing over could be unbearable, but now that he’s no longer at court with me, I'll miss it more than I thought possible," she admitted, her mood turning solemn and dropping her stare down at her hands.

"And it's my fault," she thought.

A frown creased her forehead, "Has she heard about the incident, the princess?" Jesmyn spat out, disdain dripping from each word.

"She has, but I had a handmaiden to relay the message that you are not to be disturbed, maester’s orders," Alicent answered, with a half smirk.

"Good," Jesmyn said, nodding to herself. "I don't know how I will bring myself to assist Rhaenyra with all the festivities for her wedding this week, let alone, the opening feast tomorrow," she commented, her eyes narrowing.

"So don't," Alicent responded simply, making Jesmyn raise her head in shock.

"What do you mean, don't?" Jesmyn repeated, brows furrowing.

Alicent moved to stand by her bedside, "We'll discuss it further tomorrow, when you're better," she said, bending down to give a quick peck on Jesmyn's cheek.

~~~x~~~

Lords and Ladies from every corner of the Seven Kingdoms flocked to King's Landing to celebrate the wedding of the two most powerful Houses in Westeros, the Targaryens and the Velaryons. The joyous festivities commenced with a grand feast, promising a night full of dancing, drinking, and merriment. However, these feelings were not shared by all.

In silence, two young women walked the halls of the Red Keep side by side. For Jesmyn, everything was numb and nothing felt real. She walked daze like through the halls, following the noises from the throne room. Almost a decade long of friendship and good will, gone within a blink of an eye. All from one, little half lie. A lie which Rhaenyra allowed to leave her lips effortlessly.

"The ceremony is beginning," Alicent noted, rousing Jesmyn from her stupor.

Standing in front of throne room, Jesmyn could hear Viserys' echoing voice behind the massive doors.

She looked to Alicent, "We've discussed this for hours on end, but now that the moment's here I find myself rather nervous," Jesmyn admitted.

"Don't be," Alicent insisted, turning to face Jesmyn. "Princess Rhaenyra has made it crystal clear where her loyalties lie," she reminded, her eyes hardening. "It's time we do the same," she declared quietly.

Jesmyn glanced down to both of their gowns they donned for the evening, green like the beacon of Hightower.

"We will certainly turn heads that's for sure," Jesmyn stated, a slight chuckle escaping her.

"Head high," Alicent ordered gently, using her finger to lightly lift up Jesmyn's chin. "What are we?" Alicent questioned, allowing a small grin to form on her lips.

"We're Hightower women," Jesmyn answered confidently, with a smirk.

"And what do we do?"

"We light the way,"

Holding each other's stare, Alicent and Jesmyn nodded their heads in unison.

"Shall we?" Jesmyn asked, holding her arm out.

"With pleasure," Alicent responded confidently, linking her arm with Jesmyn's. "Open the doors!" she demanded, staring ahead at the guards.

With a low creak, Jesmyn could see a sliver of the throne room and at the center of it stood Viserys, still giving his speech.

"Reaching back to the old days of Old Valyria and the Age of Dragons. With House Targaryen and H-" Viserys cut himself off mid sentence, as the sound of the doors opening drew his attention ahead.

Every courtier followed his gaze to the doors where Alicent and Jesmyn stood arm in arm. Instantly, murmurs filled the room as everyone rose to their feet, Hightower being one of the first houses to do so. The two of them were the essence of grace as they made their way deeper into the hall. Jesmyn dared glance in Rhaenyra's direction to see her subtly horrified expression, Jesmyn told a lie of her own this day; that she was too unwell to assist and attend the feast tonight. When truthfully, she wished to be as far away as possible from the princess. Jesmyn kept her face neutral. Her eyes were detached, scornful, but she was more composed than she had been for the past 48 hours, albeit without her typical jovialness.

Jesmyn passed her family's table, catching the stares of her family members. Curiosity was in all their eyes, they were well aware how close Jesmyn had been with Rhaenyra. So, for her to be making such a bold move with Alicent, who was draped in Hightower green they knew something must of went down. Jesmyn met her parent's stare, silently telling them, we'll speak later.

Approaching the Hightower table, Jesmyn smoothly removed her arm from Alicent's and seemingly glided over to where Hobert stood. A proud smirk on his lips, Hobert bows his heads to Alicent along with several members of the table. To Jesmyn's surprise, her good brother extended this gesture towards her as well which she happily returned.

"Hobert," Jesmyn greeted quietly.

"Good sister," he responded, extending his hand out to help her sit.

Once Alicent was seated at the table, Viserys began to resume his speech which Jesmyn and Alicent had interrupted with their dramatic entrance, but it was apparent he could not remember where he had left off. It wasn’t until Lord Lyonel Strong slightly leaned over to Viserys that he remembered his train of thought.

"With House Targaryen and House Velaryon united," Viserys continued, "I hope to herald a second Age of Dragons in Westeros," he proclaimed, which received applause along with some banging on the tables. "And after tonight's small affair," he joked, causing laughter to echo in the room. "Seven days of tournament and feasting – and at the end of it all – a royal wedding between my daughter and Ser Laenor Velaryon, the heir to Driftmark,"

Applause thundered across the hall once more and shortly thereafter, Rhaenyra and Laenor's first dance followed. All eyes were glued the couple as the beating of drums echoed in the hall, taking Rhaenyra's outstretched hand Laenor began their dance with one another.

"Good brother," Jesmyn called lowly, and Hobert shifted his attention to her. "Might you have room for a wheelhouse of three on the trip back home?" she asked curiously.

"Don't you mean four, good sister?" he corrected softly, with a small grin which Jesmyn shared.

When the dance was finished, lords and ladies flocked to the dance floor to join in with the dancing as well. Meanwhile, Jesmyn was on her feet to mainly stretch her legs, but it quickly turned into Hobert proudly showing her off to the rest of the Hightower's at their table.

"There's another son of Oldtown growing within her, I'm confident!" Hobert exclaimed, beaming happily at the thought.

In the most bizarre turn of events, Hobert's and Jesmyn's relationship had actually blossomed due to the birth of the twins. The way the older man incessantly pestered her about having children, people would think she was married to him and not his younger brother. Looking back now, Jesmyn realized all he truly wanted was nieces and nephews to spoil, but gods above, he could've been so less cruel about it.

She laughed, "My stomach is hanging low," Jesmyn remarked, holding the bump.

"No, it’s going to be a girl this time around!" a female cousin disagreed, eyes gleaming at the thought. "Twin girls!" she added excitedly.

"Otto would faint," Jesmyn replied, another laughing bubbling out of her.

"Yes, and he wouldn't be the only one," Hobert stated humorously.

A chorus of laughter rang out from the Hightower table and from the corner of her eye, Jesmyn saw Alicent approaching them. For the first time that night, Jesmyn saw a genuine smile on Alicent's face as she walked towards her uncle. Bowing before her, Hobert lightly grasped her arms and bore a proud grin once more.

"Thank you for coming, uncle," Alicent said, happily greeting him.

"I worried that given leave of your father's shadow, you might wither in King's Landing's sun. But, I see that you stand tall. Know that Oldtown stands with you," Hobert declared, and Alicent with nodded a tiny smirk at his words. "I see you even managed to talk some sense into Jesmyn about returning home," he mentioned, making the vein Jesmyn's forehead throb.

"Oh, I didn’t—"

"Hobert, I was just beginning to grow fond of you, until now," Jesmyn bantered, but also was half serious.

"My daughter jests, she was taught to never hold grudges," Lord Clarick stated, from behind her.

"Wait until I tell you about the antics Rhaenyra's been up to recently, that will surely make you rethink that lesson," Jesmyn thought.

She spun around, "Father!" Jesmyn greeted happily, walking towards him with her arms outstretched.

Grinning, Lord Clarick brings her into a careful hug feeling her growing belly against him.

"It's good to see you on your feet, Jesmyn. The Queen told me that you collapsed yesterday," Lord Clarick said, with a small frown as he took a hold of her hands.

"I'm fine Father, a combination of tiredness and a little nausea from traveling to Driftmark and back," Jesmyn lied, squeezing his hands to reassure him.

"Speaking of The Queen," he began, his voice dropping so only she could hear him. "What was—"

Suddenly, screams pierced the air in the hall, causing Jesmyn to flinch before whipping her head to the dance floor.

She stepped away from Lord Clarick, "What’s going on?" Jesmyn asked, panic in her question.

Then, the crowd started scattering like rats from the area where scream originated and the throne room was plunged into absolute chaos. Bumping and shoving quickly ensued as the mass attempt by courtiers to run toward the exit led to people being trampled on. Jesmyn was just barely able to react in time to protect herself and her baby. With the crowd jostling around her, she was pushed further and further away from her father and Hobert. Frantically looking around through the sea of bodies, she managed to catch the eyes of Hobert who was next to a younger Hightower cousin.

"Hobert!" Jesmyn screamed, terror in her eyes as she protectively pressed her arm against her stomach.

Hobert looked at the young man and pointed to her, immediately he fought his way over to her. Strong arming his way through, he scooped her up as if she was light as a feather and began carrying her to safety. Jesmyn searched the crowd from her new vantage point, still trying to determine what caused all this, but even from the shoulders of her cousin, she couldn't see.

However, despite the madness that enveloped the throne room, a single thought arose in Jesmyn's mind, pushing out all others.

"This disastrous wedding is nothing less than what Rhaenyra deserves,"

~~~x~~~

A few days later

Servants hurried about to and from, carrying trunks of various sizes to the many wheelhouses that lined the courtyard of the Red Keep. At the center of this tempest activity stood Jesmyn, being seen off by two members of the royal family.

"I do wish you would stay, but I think being among family and friends in Oldtown will do well for you and the babe," Alicent said, a smile gracing her features. "And the little ones too," she added, giving Vanesha's button nose a playful squeeze.

Squealing in laughter, Vanesha squirmed around in her older sister's arms.

"I couldn’t agree more, my Queen," Jesmyn responded, mirroring Alicent's expression. "It's been too long since I been in Oldtown. Despite our quarrel, I know having the twins home will bring your father the much needed joy after everything that has transpired," she commented, as Alicent handed Vanesha off to the waiting handmaiden to take her.

"You'll write me the moment you're safely inside Hightower, yes?" Alicent questioned earnestly.

"Was there ever a doubt?" Jesmyn asked back humorously. Her eyes slid to Criston, who stood protectively next to Alicent's side. "Ser Criston, I trust you will look after our Queen with my departure? True friends are so difficult to find in these times," she mentioned.

Criston bowed his head, "You have my word, Lady Hightower," he promised, a ghost of smirk on his face.

With a smile, Jesmyn moved away from Alicent and Criston and towards Rhaenyra who stood with her new sworn shield, Harwin Strong. Sauntering purposefully over to the princess, the pebbles in courtyard crunched underneath Jesmyn's shoes. Even with the flurry of activity around them, the strident noise pierced the air in the otherwise noisy courtyard.

Standing in front Rhaenyra, Jesmyn had gone from cheerful to stoic in a split second.

"Princess Rhaenyra," Jesmyn greeted curtly, curtsying to her.

"It pains me to see you go. I was so looking forward to our spent together as my lady in waiting Jesmyn," Rhaenyra said diplomatically, and Jesmyn involuntarily quirked an eyebrow at the use of her name.

"Yes, well, after having some time to reconsider my decision following that nasty business that occurred at your wedding feast, I've come to realize something," Jesmyn stated, peering down at Rhaenyra with an expressionless stare. "Without my Lord Husband, I find King's Landing an ill-suited environment to raise my children, so many unsavory characters here at court. It would be ashamed if they were tainted by proximity," she asserted, her eyes boring into Rhaenyra's who subtly shrank underneath their gaze.

Jesmyn let Rhaenyra suffer under her withering stare a few seconds longer before clearing her throat and removing her arms from underneath her cloak. In her hands, Jesmyn held an object slightly larger than both of her palms put together.

"I do have a gift for you though, Princess Rhaenyra," Jesmyn informed, keeping the object face down. "Something for you to remember me by in my absence here," she finished, finally the presenting the gift to Rhaenyra.

With its face up, Jesmyn held the finished embroidery of the High Tower of Oldtown, its beacon lit.

[secretmellowblog]

I really LOVE the symbolism of Jean Valjean giving up his National Guard uniform at the barricade.

In earlier chapters, the National Guard uniform represented Jean Valjean’s disguise as a “respectable law-abiding citizen.” It was something he wore to reassure himself he was safe whenever he was frightened of his secret coming out.

But one of Jean Valjean’s character flaws is that he’s become unhealthily obsessed with worshiping these symbols of “bourgeois social acceptance”/ “respectability.” He worships them in large part because that shallow appearance of respectability really is the only thing keeping him out of prison. His survival depends on how well he can keep up his act. His freedom depends on whether he can look and dress like a bourgeois.

Three or four times a year, Jean Valjean donned his uniform and mounted guard; he did this willingly, however; it was a correct disguise which mixed him with every one, and yet left him solitary. Jean Valjean had just attained his sixtieth birthday, the age of legal exemption; but he did not appear to be over fifty; moreover, he had no desire to escape his sergeant-major nor to quibble with Comte de Lobau; he possessed no civil status, he was concealing his name, he was concealing his identity, so he concealed his age, he concealed everything; and, as we have just said, he willingly did his duty as a national guard; the sum of his ambition lay in resembling any other man who paid his taxes. This man had for his ideal, within, the angel, without, the bourgeois.

But not only does he see the National Guard uniform as a means to an end— as something that will help him pretend to be respectable— he also, tragically, sees it as something that will make Cosette love him.

He doesn’t understand that Cosette loves him for his kindness. He seems to think she loves him for his shallow surface-level facade of a “proper gentleman.” He looks at wealthier men on horseback with even fancier uniforms and thinks that if he had uniforms like that, Cosette would love him more:

He once chanced to see a general on horseback, in full uniform, pass along the street, Comte Coutard, the commandant of Paris. He envied that gilded man; what happiness it would be, he said to himself, if he could put on that suit which was an incontestable thing; and if Cosette could behold him thus, she would be dazzled, and when he had Cosette on his arm and passed the gates of the Tuileries, the guard would present arms to him, and that would suffice for Cosette…..

After Jean Valjean and Cosette see the chain gang, Jean Valjean is violently thrown back into trauma-filled self-loathing and terror that he’ll be “found out.” As a result, he spends the next week trying to distract Cosette by taking her out to festivals— and wears his National Guard uniform to them:

Jean Valjean donned his uniform of a national guard with the vague inward feeling of a man who is betaking himself to shelter.

The National Guard uniform is basically the symbol of Jean Valjean’s disguise as Fauchelevent. It’s the tenuous “shelter” he finds in symbols of bourgeois respectability.

So when he gives it up at the barricade, he’s finally sacrificing all of that.

The barricade rebels are in a situation that’s basically a more extreme/exaggerated version of what Jean Valjean has been living through. Anyone who has a National Guard uniform will be seen as a respectable law-abiding citizen, and be able to walk past law enforcement unharmed. Anyone who does not have that shelter of respectability will be marked as a rebel/criminal.

So when Jean Valjean gives up his coat to save someone else, it shows that he’s finally giving up that shelter. I think it’s one of our first clear signs that no matter what happens at the barricade, he will never be able to go back to being “Monsieur Fauchelevent” again.

[sugar-grigri]

I was wondering what you think the likelihood is of an actual canon Asa/Denji romantic relationship is? I mean obviously they're building that Asa has feelings for csm/Denji (separately) and Denji has shown passing interest as well. I wonder if it's feasible at all or are they going to be pitched against one another now that Asa's getting seen more in the public eye while Denji is forcibly pushed aside.

Love your blog and enjoy reading your analyzes of the chapters/characters/plot!

Denji and Asa will have a romantic relationship 

I'm sorry to answer so late (almost 2 months later) and without justifying my delay, I think it's the right time in view of the last chapters to answer !!! I think Asa and Denji will have a romantic relationship. Before explaining my arguments, I would ask that we all put our personal preferences aside. I'm only interested in Denji and Asa's writing and story arcs. Now that that's been cleared up, let's get down to business.

First of all, I'd like to reiterate a few points about Denji's development and objectives.

In part 1, Denji understood what it meant to be loved properly, the different facets of love, how to protect and pamper a family, just as his response to the antagonist was driven by his love for Makima. It's important not to deny that Denji has become attached to Makima, and the paradoxical aspect of this affection is what made the end of Part 1 so brilliant and memorable.

Firstly, it confirmed that CSM's main theme from the outset was love, and secondly, it proved that Denji's response was extremely sensitive and mature. Instead of locking himself into a cycle of revenge and hatred, he forgave.

But above all from a narrative point of view it's interesting because in the first part, Denji grasped his value as a human being, knew what it was like to be considered and loved by Power and Aki. I've always seen Part 2 as a response to Part 1.

After the character has grasped that he can be loved, Part 2 places within it, consecrating it as the pivotal protagonist: Denji's beloved, Asa Mitaka. Instead of simply mystifying the love interest as a deuteragonist, as many works do, and depriving us of her point of view, Fujimoto places her with equal narrative importance. Which makes sense, since love is a central theme, Denji's love couldn't take a back seat.

All this to say that the very fact that Asa is also the protagonist puts us on the right track. But there's nothing to stop it all being a trap? Just as there's nothing to stop the relationship between the two protagonists opening up to a lovely friendship, is there? From a personal point of view, I'd have found it interesting if Denji had struck up another platonic friendship with a girl, with no undertones.

But that's not what Fujimoto has in mind...

Asa and Denji are written to complement each other. And when I say complementarity, I make it clear that the writing doesn't imply that a relationship between the two of them would solve their internal problems. Their flaws are put to the test by the external scenario.

For example, Asa's lack of trust in others is underlined in her development compared to other characters such as Yuko and Yoshida.

Yuko and Asa had a sincere friendship, although this drifted into moral combat as the young girl wanted to be as beneficial and useful as Chainsaw Man. As for Yoshida, he torments Asa, playing the game of promiscuity in order to create distance between the two of them, motivated as he is by Chainsaw Man. But his aim is not to become like him, but to prevent him from acting to the full.

Whether it's to inhibit Chainsaw Man or to become like him, Chainsaw Man has occupied a place in Asa's relationships with the others. But again, this only serves to underline the extent to which the destinies of the two protagonists are intertwined. Instead of hating Chainsaw Man even more for disrupting her relationships, Asa Mitaka unknowingly experienced his profound kindness.

During the aquarium arc, Denji simply occupied a special place regarding this issue. While the young girl mortified herself about being a good-for-nothing, a loser like Denji, it was he who paradoxically helped her. Firstly, because he'd listened to her explanations, boring though they were, about starfish and the fact that they're edible. What's more, Fami can control those she would have starved, so subconsciously the fact that Denji offered her food saved Asa.

But this is implicit writing, as it doesn't make sense until well afterwards, when Fujimoto spells out the conditions of the famine demon's power. When we read the aquarium arc, the one who finds the solution is Asa. Denji was merely a springboard.

This episode is central because Fujimoto, in developing the relationship between Denji and Asa, also clarifies the way in which he will write it: one will not overshadow the other, and he has not placed Asa as the protagonist so that she is not a pivotal point in the scenario.

But before this good experience, Asa only sees Denji's little flaws, the fact that he's a fan of Chainsaw Man, that he rips off homeless people and even goes so far as to dehumanize him, considering him somewhere between a cat and a criminal. Instead of idealizing Asa as Denji's great savior, she is first presented as a threat to the boy. But this chapter only confirms the future romantic (and tragic) aspect of their relationship.

I'm putting my theory back on the cat, because it's this symbol that heralds a perhaps not-so-pretty ending between the two of them. Fujimoto takes on the characteristics of a Greek tragedy, with a game of identities, intertwined secrets and a series of misunderstandings, with two camps, characters also preventing their relationship (Nayuta and Yoshida). But above all, it's tragic: Denji is somewhere between a cat and a criminal, just as Asa lost her mother while trying to save a cat, just as the first being Denji saves in Part 2 is a cat.

The cat is a figure that links Denji and Asa (the fact that they both saved one, that it is linked to their family (Power and Asa's mother), the metaphor of cat and criminal being what characterizes someone as morally gray as the two of them TO SUM UP their relationship will end in sacrifice. The ultimate proof of love. Isn't it wonderful to have a boy as the protagonist who pursues love, only to die for it? The reverse is just as beautiful: a young girl who closes herself off in solitude finds self-fulfillment in dying for the sake of another.

But back to something happier: Asa is the only one who has a healthy love (or rather, attachment) to Denji. Firstly, because she first faced Denji's and Chainsaw Man's flaws before seeing their good sides.

First, she doesn't project anything onto the boy, and sees him exactly as he is. She experienced his obscenities, his interest in sex that repels her. This was something I'd considered a flaw until now, to be honest; I was afraid that if the two protagonists ended up experiencing intimacy together, it would "save" Asa from her rejection of sex. But I was reassured by Fumiko's development, which parallels that. Fumiko has an unhealthy interest in Denji and is constantly contradictory in her dealings with him.

As I said, chapter 142 sets up a fairly simple idea: no one respects Denji's limits, above all, no one sees him as the teenager, the child he is. With Chainsaw Man, the same thing happens: people, faced with their powerlessness against the demons, project their grief and frustrations onto the machine man, to the point of pushing him to live again and again to kill his loved one, his big brother. 

No one hears Chainsaw Man's cries for help 

Asa stands out from all this: first, she's the one who wants to save Chainsaw Man 

Fumiko already had an idealized image of Denji before she met him, has an ascendancy over age, a manipulative strategy, but beyond these problematic issues she respects no limits, thinks Denji's sexual desires, which do exist (let's not deny it), are watchwords. 

She, who considers him a child, doesn't act at all in the spirit of protection that she acclaims. 

Asa has the opposite reaction, but purely the opposite. When she meets Denji, she's not at all interested, even distressed. She'll have exactly the same reaction to Chainsaw Man. She doesn't like him, so she has nothing to project onto him. And even her first reaction to him was far from idyllic. 

Fumiko's presence is also intended to underline the way she and Asa differ in the way they deal with Denji's limitations. 

Asa respects Denji's limits, or rather those he has set as rules dictated by his little sister. But Yoru crosses a boundary by kissing him. Without the desire to justify a non-consensual act, what Yoru is doing is crossing a boundary not set by Denji but by Nayuta, who is trapping her older brother in a certain solitude by wanting to protect him. The control devil is obsessed with a happiness that can only be found in the number of two, which is the common trait that links Makima and Nayuta, although they are not exactly the same entity. The first kiss between Yoru and Denji is then an act of rebellion, rather than Fumiko's constant overstepping of boundaries. 

(Again, these are two non-consensual acts, and I'm not justifying them, but they don't have the same narrative function).

But above all, the limits set by Nayuta have another meaning - they're there to consolidate the fact that Denji and Asa's relationship is a romantic tragedy inspired by the ancients, as Shakespiere was. The breaking of rules is a major theme in Romeo and Juliet, especially in the case of Juliet, who must choose between morals and her love, her family destining her for another marriage (symbolized by Nayuta). 

But we'll come back to the symbolism of Romeo and Juliet in a moment... 

Asa has met the purest version of Denji - whether it's Denji revealing his identity, or his profound kindness at the aquarium - and she's also witnessed the flaws of Chainsaw Man, this perverse monster, not good with words, who not only tried to reassure her, but actively protected her.

In other words, when we see her disturbed by her growing feelings for both Denji and Chainsaw Man, they are more than sincere, for she has seen them both as they were. But above all, she is the first character to love both sides of Denji's identity. Whereas Makima was obsessed with Chainsaw Man or Reze focused on Denji's weaknesses, Asa became attached to both the human and the demon.

Denji's dual identity is central, with the public hunters trying to annihilate Denji's demonic identity while the church relies on it, confusing the boy into having to choose one or the other, while the one who intends to help him unknowingly loves both sides. She likes him doubly. Asa is proof that Denji has to claim his two identities.

Not only is the girl also two, harboring a demon within her just as Denji has fused with a demon, but the way their demons are linked to each other and have a history between them only reinforces the destiny that binds them.

Asa is someone who intellectualizes her emotions to the extreme, so her love is more cerebral than Denji's, who thinks primarily through his senses, having a more instinctive love. Yoru occupies half of Asa's brain, while Pochita replaces Denji's heart, totally in line with this symbolism.

Above all, Yoru is disturbed by Asa's budding feelings, which also affect her. We've seen that Yoru hasn't succeeded in transforming Denji. We all stopped to think that she couldn't transform a hybrid, a demon. Yoru is a knight of the apocalypse and has a natural ascendancy over other demons, just as Fami had the falling devil under her control and Makima had controlled many demons. No, the reason why Yoru can't transform Denji is twofold: she's disturbed by Asa's feelings, which are also her own, and doesn't have the will to make him her weapon; but above all, they're not yet together, and the feeling of belonging to each other hasn't yet been established. It's not certain that Denji will ever become Yoru's weapon, since as soon as their relationship is established, he will symbolically offer her his heart.

In the current arc, Fujimoto places Asa in Denji's initial situation, so as to better parallel them: she becomes the church's new flagship image, her popularity competing directly with Chainsaw Man's. But while the current arc shows us the downside of these parasocial relationships, with Denji completely paralyzed by his existential crises, Asa experiences the opposite.

She who has always felt isolated is finally beginning to be appreciated and loved by the majority. In short, one begins to learn something that the other is just experimenting with. Denji and Asa are two very isolated teenagers who project themselves into the recognition their audience has in them. 

What's certain is that Denji's existential crisis doesn't just concern him, insofar as his experiences can serve as a lesson to Asa, that to become a hero is above all to be alone. The church intends to sacrifice innocent people to spur Chainsaw Man into action, a church that Asa now represents. Asa hasn't yet seen this side of the church, so Barem mocks her by presenting her as a naive young girl. However, Asa has the intuition that tragedy will strike, since she has a nightmare of it.

Asa's going to have to go beyond her moral limits, to take the brunt of her own popularity, and even if she intends to save Chainsaw Man as he saved her, I think it's he who's going to help her more, not to eclipse her but as a springboard to push the heroine to save herself.

Denji's development isn't slow, flat, in this arc, it just reaches its conclusion. What's left for him to do to end it all is to prove his love.

Even if it means dying for it.

[midlandslady]

So let me say this:

Geeta Patel wrote season 1 episode 8. That was one of my fave episodes ever! Viserys wishing for one last dinner with the entire family (poor Daeron LOL), Viserys so weak and frail entering the throne room to defend his beloved daughter (*forever emotional*), Daemon running from his spot to help Viserys to get on the throne and putting the crown on his head was so beautiful, Daemon cutting Vaemond's head for calling Rhaenyra a whore (most sexy moment in the entire show), the dinner with the family when Viserys begged for them to put aside their hatred and resentment because he loved them all and wished for them to be happy after his death (cries).

Geeta Patel wrote season 2 episode 3. What did we get in episode 3? Young Rhaenyra calling Daemon as soon as he steps in Harrenhal, Daemon crying for seeing young Rhaenyra with baby Jaeherys (again one of my favourite scenes in the entire tv show), Daemon in front of the weirwood trees and Alys telling him he will die there (poetic foreshadowing), Rhaenyra trusting that Daemon will give them an army if they allow him more time. Rhaenyra talking to Alicent in the same spot where they used to be friends and console each other (beautiful parallel). This is what I remember from episode 3. Did something else happen? Probably, I don't remember. Not to say that I don't care because I don't hate the greens (just Criston Cole most days and Aemond although he also intrigues me). Even Aegon is a very pitiful person. I find the entire story very tragic. And this episode touched my heart.

What else is Geeta Patel going to write? Season 2 episode 8 (season finale!!!!) And you know what she said to the interviewer?

"The other thing I got to set up that of course will pay off later is Daemon arrives to Harrenhal, and this is a new chapter for Daemon. This is where he will shift. He will for the first time look within himself... Harrenhal is a metaphor for what's inside Daemon's heart. In Episode 2, Rhaenyra pushed him away, and Rhaenyra is the first person he's ever really let into his heart and let his guard down with, and when he did she hurt him in Episode 2. She basically told him he was worthless, and so now his armor is on as he enters Harrenhal, but truthfully within his heart, the armor is shattered. So that's where the setup starts, and it will keep evolving until we get to Episode 8."

What does this sound like to you? To me, it sounds like music to my ears. Daemon's arc will pay off later... as in he will become a better person? Recognize his mistakes? Understand that Rhaenyra was right and deserves better (arguably but I will get there in a later post) and reconcile with her? Oh my!

He let his guard down when he let Rhaenyra in his heart and she hurt him 🥺 (he deserved it, kind of, I don't know if he deserved to hear that at the time but he surely deserved to hear it at some point).

His armor is on when he enters Harrenhal but within his heart, the armor is shattered!!!! 😭*pain*

I have always said that Daemon is one of the people who feels more deeply everything but he wears an iron mask, he puts up walls so high and hides his feelings through violence so no one can see how much he is hurting on the inside. I relate with that and maybe that's why I always understood him, always tried to see him between the lines of what he says or how he acts.

More than anything I want him to do the right, he doesn't need to be good, he can be flawed as we all are, but I want him to become a better man. His arc will keep evolving until episode 8 so we will see more hallucinations and more craziness but then one of these hallucinations will make him "shift" and I desperately want to see which one and how it happens.

I don't know if any of you watched Once Upon a Time but Emma and Killian were another of my 3 main OTPs and from the moment I saw Killian/ Hook I also envisioned the potential to be a great man. And I felt the same with Daemon from the first moment (of course it's GoT, so everything is more barbaric and ruthless but the essence is there).

Just please I hope he doesn't make more serious mistakes, so far he's not learning much with the visions, he is still committing war crimes to innocent people ("Do your worst, ser Willem." "Some things the crown should not be seen doing" - seriously? As if it won't backfire right away -_-), still clinging to the "I am the better fit to rule".

But these next 2 episodes will be crucial.

My last warning: Alys, stay away from him!

[moonbaby26]

Title: The Invitation

(Chapter 6 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Aokiji/Kuzan x Reader, Smoker x Reader is in the past

Chapter Warnings: language, masturbation (female and male), sexual frustration, non con elements, references to previous physical abuse to reader, voyeurism

Chapter Synopsis: You’ll finally be returning to sea with a short tour of duty with another ship. But one of the islands on the itinerary has special meaning to you. And it now will to Doflamingo as well as plans are laid that will pull you even further together.

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6, 7

——————————

—————————— 

For better or worse, you and Kuzan hadn’t gotten the chance to argue over Doflamingo much more that night. The exhausted admiral had fallen asleep over the top of you soon enough. 

And even with yourself still fully nude beneath him, his underwear had remained a barrier below your waists as you’d stroked your fingertips down his neck and back with familiarity regardless. 

You endured that lingering chill from his core in exchange for what could very well be your last feels of him as he breathed steadily against you.

There was still an overwhelming comfort in his presence though, a sense of true safety whenever the two of you were finally together. And as you watched your ceiling above, you knew how many people would have prayed to be as lucky, to have a man of Kuzan’s caliber in their bed in any context at all.

But it was only an attractive lie. 

Just a shadow of what could have been. Because he’d confessed at last that there was nothing you could do to make him stay. 

He would always leave you. He was choosing to never let anything progress past this awkward stage of need and regret.

And in the end, that meant you just had to keep searching for the next person to bury these needs within. Because in the quiet of the night, fully unable to give in to sleep yourself, you knew that there was something still so very wrong inside of you. Something that made you hate ever truly being alone.

Even Kuzan had called out your flawed nature tonight. Saying that you would still be drawn to the “rush” of fighting and being with Doflamingo as he’d put it. While Smoker had accused you of an insatiable compulsion to always keep climbing at any cost when he had left you too.

As if they really couldn’t see that you still had to battle and over extend yourself at every opportunity just to prove that you deserved to exist at all.

It was a sad twist too that someone so supposedly apathetic to the suffering of others like Doflamingo, would actually be the first one to almost commend instead of criticize this dangerous drive.

You hadn’t forgotten the way he’d looked up at you through those blood red glasses in the Mariejois basement that day. Squatted down in front of you, warm breath teasing between your legs all the while.

He’d said that the others were afraid of you. As if he knew because he understood it so innately in a way that Kuzan snd Smoker never could. In your very first one on one interaction with the warlord, he’d said that he alone was what you needed now.

If he had just been anyone else you likely would have accepted him outright. Literally anyone but the very man that Tsuru had doggedly pursued for all this time.

You felt that shame all over again, thinking how far you would have gone with him already if he wasn’t a pirate or a demon. If he really were just a man.

It would have been Doflamingo in your barracks like this instead. You would have had your fingers twisting in that short blond hair against his scalp as he’d pull his open shirt down from off of his broad shoulders.

You’d have his weight pushing you into this mattress as you’d let him bite and lick across your neck in equal desperation. He’d be undoing his ever tightening pants even while trying to coax you to open up enough to take him in again.

That long, hard cock would be back out in the air and he’d be stroking it to finish getting it ready while he’d growl in anticipation just for the chance to have you once more.

You shifted beneath Kuzan, further guilt rising as you spread your thighs slowly in that vision. But the admiral’s length was covered, and soft in his deep sleep. Yet you still felt the shape of him past that thin fabric between you as you began to slide your hips to push further against it with your thoughts.

So gently at first, and so humiliated in the way you felt that wetness already beginning for you just from the subtle friction. But you were sliding your slit against Kuzan’s defenseless bulge soon enough.

Quietly, but rhythmically as you hated yourself so completely in that first little creak of protest from your mattress. 

A pathetic whore is all you could call yourself in that moment as you imagined Doflamingo putting your hands up over your head perhaps. That grin of his close to euphoric by then as the tip of him already would have been pushing into your entrance by now. 

In the fantasy it wouldn’t hurt of course. You would stretch, badly even. But it would be alright. And he would be whispering, dirty, vulgar things to encourage you as he’d slide inside of you little by little.

You finally whimpered then, so wet that you knew your slick had nearly transferred onto Kuzan’s underwear, dampening it too. Your legs were spread fully now. Enough that his bulge did dip just slightly into that crevice of your outer lips.

And you did rock against it this time. Hard enough to pretend that he was actually pressing back. Even with all your injuries, your body was more than cooperating beneath him. Your upside down hierarchy of needs still putting this physical hunger above healing, and above all self respect.

It was both Doflamingo and Kuzan simultaneously with you in your mind then. Because at last you realized that even Kuzan’s length was starting to respond as you kept dragging yourself across it.

You could feel the fabric of his boxers beginning to tent outward around him as you kept encouraging it to grow.

But you knew it was only reflexive. His body reacting without his consent or even his awareness in that drunken slumber. He didn’t forego sleep for you like Doflamingo had claimed to. When the warlord had called saying he needed you in his bed.

The admiral didn’t want you the way that Doflamingo did.

“Kuzan…” You still whimpered anyway. Trying to will him to wake and understand even just this once.

You couldn’t sleep until some sort of release had been offered now. Your hand travelled further down Kuzan’s back and then onto his ass as you squeezed it once through his boxers. Also using it as a hold to press up into him again.

He was so hard now. If he would just give you permission…

“Please, Kuzan,” You tried again, nuzzling your face against him.

But he didn’t awake. His head just turned further away from you as he only made an annoyed sound in his sleep.

And then he actually rolled off of you entirely. The weight and the pressure you’d wanted so badly were gone just that quickly as he slid off to lay on his side instead.

His back was the only thing then against you as you heard his breathing quickly return to that deep, unbothered state.

You bit your bottom lip lightly, but still feeling the sting. Even as illogical as it was on your part, this only felt like the burn of rejection all over again.

So you turned your back to him as well then. Both of you back to back within your bed as your hand slid gently between your thighs instead.

You’d have to do it for yourself yet again. Fingertips replacing where Kuzan’s clothed erection had been pressing previously. You even pushed inward a little further. Because the pleasure still felt better than the pain. Your fingers were small enough not to stretch things too much as you started to pump them slowly in and out. 

Within short time you were shifting your hips against your own hand. You could even hear those little sounds for how wet you were, sensitive walls trying to close enough to make a light suction around your fingers.

Your pathetic little noises went ignored too though as you could only bring yourself to some mild trembles that went through your thighs. Not the full orgasms you were really seeking. 

The self hatred was still too strong as well. But that was only because you were doing this alone. If that pirate had been here, that lingering regret would have been blasted entirely through. He wouldn’t have stopped until you’d been crying out his name.

Crying aloud for him instead of hiding it like this. You just couldn’t keep doing this to yourself. Something was going to have to finally give to admit what you really wanted.

———————————

By the time the sun was fully in your window again, you’d had more than enough time to get up and fully dressed, then neatening and laying back out Kuzan’s clothes for him as he’d still stayed curled tightly within your blankets.

When he hadn’t opened his eyes after the third or fourth attempt of you calling his name again though, you’d sat back down on the edge of the bed beside him.

“I know you can hear me. And I’m going to pinch the hell out of you next if you don’t say something.” You warned.

Nothing about last night was his fault. But it didn’t mean it felt good to you to have to still watch him now. His presence taunting you with an intimacy he wouldn’t allow. The man was so comfortable, as if being in your bed again was as natural as could be. As if this really were home.

“Alright, blue pheasant.” You taunted his admiral codename next as you ran your hand back under the blankets. “Your crew’s going to be waiting for you. And Kizaru’s probably printing flyers as we speak to announce our engagement or some other crap like that.” Since neither of you had been seen out of your quarters yet this morning. Someone would be making assumptions no matter what you did at this point. But hopefully no one had tried to call his room or office yet.

“Our…what?” You heard a muffled reply at last, as his face remained shoved into one of your pillows.

And even though he had finally spoken, your hand was already in range beneath the sheet then as you pinched his ass anyway right through his boxers. 

“Hey!” He squirmed, eyes opening at last then.

“Good morning.” You smirked regardless. “I did warn you.”

“Evil.” He mumbled, yet already starting to close those still tired eyes again soon after.

“And I’ll do it again. Come on, the longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be to get out of here unseen.” Which was true as the more sailors got up and got moving for their assignments today, the more foot traffic there was going to be.

He sighed, turning then to finally look up at you. You did see his brow furrow a little however as he appeared to glance you over. He’d just realized that you were already fully clothed in your uniform again.

“Damn…I didn’t even get to see you in the sunlight before you covered it all back up?” He asked in a tinge of genuine disappointment.

You tried not to look too annoyed at his reaction. Though that was just confirmation that he really didn’t remember last night after he’d fallen asleep then. “Only the early bird gets the worm, Kuzan.”

“Well, the early bird never faced a sociopath flamingo about a girl, and then had to go get plastered afterward to deal with it either,” He replied with a frown, pushing himself up to sitting even as one hand moved up to cradle his clearly aching head. “You got something strong for this?”

You were frowning a little too by then. But the pheasant and the flamingo…you couldn’t help but think of two puffed up male birds strutting around in a dispute over territory and mating rights with that as you got up and crossed the room to where you kept the pain killers.

“Here.” You did walk back to him after a bit though, both with a couple of extra strength pills in one hand and a glass of water you’d just filled from the bathroom sink in the other.

And he took that offering gratefully. Drinking the meds down with the water before he looked to you again. 

You felt the change in the way he set his shoulders back in that moment though after he was done, so you knew what was coming.

“Look…if you really made some kind of devil’s deal with that asshole to save other people’s lives, I get that. Sort of. But you still need to call me if something goes wrong. If there’s something you can’t handle by yourself. Can you at least tell me that you’d do that while you get this jerk out of your system, or whatever the hell you’re trying to do with him?”

“I will.” You answered almost tersely. You didn’t want to fight about this further. No matter how patronizing he’d just sounded. You knew he was doing you a huge favor regardless. Any other admiral wouldn’t have been brushing this under the rug so soon.

You were a marine and Doflamingo was the worst kind of pirate.

It couldn’t be any simpler than that.

But Kuzan’s eyes were still on you, as if he wanted more conviction in your words.

“I will call for backup if needed, admiral.” You answered more firmly then.

But you saw that slight trace of pain flicker back through his eyes at your renewed formality. Yet he let it go.

“Then be safe, captain.” He answered, finally standing up as he slid out of the bed and sat that now empty water glass down onto your nightstand. 

You could see the thick ring of frost which had already formed around the glass just from being briefly against his hand. He was not happy.

And neither were you as he redressed in silence while you waited for him at the door.

——————————

The doctor in charge at the infirmary yesterday had given strict orders that you were only allowed desk duty today. So after sneaking that somewhat moody admiral out of your room, and then waiting before leaving yourself to not be seen walking together, you’d come to the offices.

Tsuru had never minded you using her desk if she wasn’t at it. So you were sorting through reports and minor things that had stacked up in her absence. If you could handle as many documents as possible yourself, it’d be less for her to have to bother with whenever her battleship finally would make port again.

It was mostly quiet this early too, enough so that when you thought you finally did hear the steps of something, you’d looked up to see nothing over the top of her desk towards the open doorway.

So you’d ignored it, going back to signing the forms in front of you as long as they were within your rank to do so, before your leg was bumped hard enough to startle you.

You looked down to white fur and a small set of horns now rubbing against your calf and knee. Two black eyes looked up at you expectantly as the little goat bleated.

“Now what is the point of you wearing a bell if you don’t even move fast enough to make it ring?” You asked, albeit smiling at last as you gladly started petting her atop her ridiculously cute head just as she was hoping for. “You must have made a break for it again, huh sweetie? I don’t have any food though, sorry.” You talked to her easily.

“Apologies,”’ A new voice came just as abruptly as her arrival though. “She got tired of waiting for me in the hallway. I got delayed to listen to some complaining. Apparently Aokiji was late to the admiral’s meeting this morning. Heaven forbid Akainu have to wait a single additional minute.”

You looked back up to see none other than Sengoku the Buddha stride through the doorway then. He sat in the empty chair across from the desk as you felt your posture straighten up by default.

“Sir,” You acknowledged him, concerned immediately for the one on one visit. But also quickly realizing just how bizarre it felt to be the one at the desk while he sat imposing, yet still like a guest across from you.

The little goat just bleated more loudly however once she realized your attention had shifted away from her and your hand had gone back up onto the desk.

“Quit being so needy.” Sengoku scolded her gently however and she did eventually give up, then wandering off to chew on one of Tsuru’s plants in the corner instead.

And who were you to tell her no as you only watched the fleet admiral carefully. He did look more serious once his attention was fully back on you too. Which could be terrifying in its own way if you didn’t yet know the reasoning for his visit. “Is something the matter, sir?” 

He had mentioned Aokiji already, but you really doubted he’d care anything about that. He hadn’t the last time you and Kuzan were actually official anyway. As long as you weren’t fooling around with a direct superior, the fleet admiral hardly had the time to be concerned with such basic base gossip.

And Kuzan had already promised you that the only other one in the know about Doflamingo at all was Hina. Which, she was no snitch.

“Tsuru asked me to check on you,” Sengoku stated plainly. 

“Oh.” But you weren’t sure if that was better or worse. “I haven’t gotten to speak to her in a while.“ You answered truthfully. “She’s still in Lyra?”

You almost asked him if she was coming home soon instead. Before you realized it was kind of odd to call Marineford home. Only her ship was home for you. Or the closest thing you’d known to one in so many years. 

“Yes. She’s still in Lyra for the time being. But she thinks you might be interested in setting sail with another crew and meeting her somewhere else down the line. Vice Admiral Momonga will be leaving tomorrow. He has room if you’re agreeable.”

Your brain did hitch slightly again then, but only for the way Sengoku had posed this as a question and not an order. If the fleet admiral told you to go somewhere, you went. It wasn’t as if a lowly captain could have such autonomy in the face of him.

Was this pity? 

Was it kindness?

Or had you already worn out your welcome here after so much drama in such a short time? “Of course, sir. I can be packed immediately.”

The way his expression didn’t change made it obvious he’d expected no other answer.

And yet he was still watching you through his glasses. “I also wanted to commend you for your handling of things at the auction house. Vice Admiral Vergo was extremely complimentary of you in my meeting with him earlier this morning. He also expressed his regret for yesterday’s training incident. He admitted to goading you in order to push you further. So any record of yesterday will reflect that.”

Your eyebrows raised a little. In all the mess with Kuzan last night and the revelation of whatever had happened between the admiral and Doflamingo in Sabaody, honestly Vergo hadn’t even been on your mind at all anymore. 

When that leader for G-5 base hadn’t reached out to you last night or this morning for any further help or assignments, you’d figured that bridge had been burned and that you just must have pissed him off somehow.

But apparently that wasn’t the case? That man was still so odd really. From that strange first morning in the mess hall, all the way until him staring straight through you while on the phone in training not long before he’d essentially come alive to whoop your ass outside. As much as everyone else always said how great Vergo was, you just couldn’t figure out why he didn’t mix well with you. 

Regardless, it was done. If you were leaving with Momonga, then Vergo wouldn’t be your problem any longer.

And maybe you looked too relieved actually just to have any excuse to go, because you saw Sengoku finally smile slightly. There was a paternal feel from it.

“Tsuru’s quite proud of you you know. Don’t be too discouraged with minor setbacks. Every marine has to find their own path. Some of us flourish on the front lines on the ground, some at sea, some even behind a desk or in the meeting halls. We all have our role to grow within. But you have her support. And I’ve never seen that woman misjudge a recruit yet.”

You felt a slight tightness in your throat as his words landed, not expecting such an admission from the very top in this moment. Your fingers pulled into a fist against the desk. “Thank you, sir. I have every intention of continuing to prove that her faith in me was not misplaced either.”

——————————

At last it felt like you had a handle on things again. Your bags were already packed by the door. Only the uniform you’d be wearing tomorrow was pressed and ready on a hanger in your otherwise now empty closet.

You were sitting alone on your bed after dinner from the mess hall that night, a copy and maps of Momonga’s planned patrol route and stop off points in front of you as you studied it. All of the islands to be visited sounded interesting. But there were even a few that you’d never been to at all.

And to your great surprise when you’d first received these documents earlier, there was one island you were still trying to decide what to do with or even how to feel about. Because to get it thrown in your face with everything that had already happened recently seemed like something you almost should have been laughing about.

What were the odds?

One of the last islands on Momonga’s route was going to be the island of Scylla.

A place you’d never set foot upon, but whose stories had occupied your mind from earliest memory. It was so stupid really, to still be holding onto that dream at all.

But how could you forget it either? The worst beating you’d ever gotten in your entire life was the night you’d been caught reading a book about Scylla under the stairs you often hid beneath at the brothel your mother had worked in when she was briefly still alive.

You’d stolen the book from one of her customers. A merchant who’d had an entire case of them when you’d snuck aboard his ship looking for food that same day. But he must have been someone important. Someone who couldn’t stand a thief either as he’d gladly overseen your thorough punishment.

So it became burned in your mind. Those contrasts of heaven and hell. The images in that beautiful book representing some semblance of fictional heaven of course, with the bone breaking punishments in result of your daring to glimpse it being the reminder of every day in your real life hell back then.

But the juxtaposition had just made you want it more. You’d still run with the book and hid it away before they’d caught you to impose that brutal torture. Which meant when you still hadn’t died days later, with only that intuitive first use of armament haki keeping your skull and the like together, you’d still gotten to have that book and read it over and over even years afterward.

Those pictures and descriptions of Scylla’s crystal clear canals and their flower gardens. Their world class aviary with hundreds of rare species, their open air restaurants and artisans’ markets, and the focal point in the center of it all, their massive church that predated Mariejois itself. All those things you had memorized from girlhood, envisioning escaping your home island to one day see with your own eyes.

But even after becoming a marine, even after Tsuru had found you and gave you that offer to finally leave hell forever, the opportunity to visit that particular place in heaven hadn’t come.

Kuzan had joked that he’d take you there one day, once he’d learned your secret fascination with it. It’d even gotten close enough that you’d both started talking about the next time that Tsuru’s ship might be in that area. Even back then he was far freer than you to move where he wanted, when he wanted. He could have met you there.

But then that horror with Zephyr’s family had come to pass. And any of you who had ever trained with Zephyr, which was multiple generations of marines by that point, had fallen into mourning. Some stupid extravagance like a trip to Scylla had been the farthest thing from either of your minds then as you’d gone to the funerals and memorial services together. 

It was probably the last thing the two of you had ever done publicly as a couple actually. You holding Kuzan’s arm, both of you in your marine funeral dress as you’d stared hollow and spent while cannons sounded in goodbye to yet more innocent victims of the great age of piracy.

Even now there was something in you that felt guilty just considering a visit again. Because it was so childish, so self serving. Why even still care?

And yet here you were thinking in circles about it. For long enough actually that you realized you desperately needed to put down the maps and go to bed. Momonga wanted to already be on the water by the time the sun was breaking the horizon tomorrow.

Something just kept pulling at you though. Weaving excuses for you as you remembered those slaves from Sabaody again. You still had to erase your debt to Doflamingo so that they could remain free.

And what should it matter if that promise to him was fulfilled somewhere other than that house he’d mentioned in Sabaody? He would likely be picking another location anyway, wanting more distance from Aokiji now if he had any sense of self-preservation at all.

So why couldn’t the setting of your repayment be somewhere you picked instead?

And yet, that would be a perversion of your old dream wouldn’t it? Like everything else in your life, getting one thing you wanted at the price of something else. 

Because never in that little girl’s visions of visiting something close to heaven would she have ever thought it’d come hand in hand with a demon’s strings around her throat.

Your eyes moved to your sleeping transponder snail as you knew that Doflamingo was still the last call you’d ever answered on it. Two nights ago, when you were drunk and acting like his own personal brothel girl as you’d writhed on your floor.

His number would still be within its memory though as a callback to the last number which had connected.

Fuck.

———————————

“Look, it’s fifteen percent or nothing. If that’s still not good enough, then tell him to suck my…or no, you know what? Just get rid of them all. His whole crew. They’re replaceable,” Doflamingo grumbled, curved black shoes propped on his desk as the ship swayed in the waves and most of his drink tried to go along with it.

He downed the remaining liquid before it could fully spill, Trebol still chuckling a bit on the other end of the snail. The other man’s tone was nasally but with that amused cruelty as always after an order of execution. “Behehe, will do, Doffy! I don’t like them anyway. We won’t miss them.”

“No, we won’t.” Doflamingo agreed. “How’s everything else?”

“The energy steroids all got bought up, even at the higher price! Those fishmen are loving those just like you said they would.”

Of course they did. Though it’d be interesting of how long it’d take them to realize the true side effects. “Did you already order more?” He asked in return.

“Yes, three shipments.” Trebol confirmed.

“I’d up it to at least five for now. We want some stock on hand in case the turnaround gets longer. We already had the supplier at near max production weeks ago.” They’d have to invest more money into that supplier actually if Hody and his boys kept popping those things like candy.

“Okay.” Trebol answered and there was a pause like he was actually taking notes. Which was fine. Doflamingo rather it be right or not at all. 

“I’ll be home in another few days. Weather has still been shitty off and on.” The warlord added, watching another stack of his papers try to tilt right off the desk in the next set of waves. 

But there was a noise in the background on the other end like Trebol was also talking to someone else and then another laugh.

Doflamingo looked back down at the snail. That was definitely Diamante saying something teasing in the background.

“Behehe, ask him yourself! I’m not asking that!” Trebol retorted to whatever unintelligible joke Diamante had made.

And there was still another long pause after. Before an additional commotion like the snail was changing hands.

“Oh, you men. I’ll ask then!” And that was Giolla muscling her way between them from the sounds of it.

“Young master!” She said in greeting.

“Good evening, Giolla.” Doflamingo still responded rather patiently. 

“So were you able to thwart your rival, young master? Surely that marine girl came to her senses in the end!” The older woman practically blurted, though with a passion that spoke of her true investment in this already.

Doflamingo leaned his head back, a reflexive smile forming at the surprise, even as he made a sound somewhere between a laugh and an incredulous grunt. “I knew I should have kept my damned mouth shut. So you’re all waiting on bated breath now are you?” Didn’t they have anything better to do? He’d clearly have to leave them more work next time.

The snail was practically yelling though as Giolla answered. “But, young master! Your well being is what we live for! And as an artist, I must say I’m fully inspired by this new era of yours. All great creators have made their best works within the confines of the torturous beauty of romance!”

His hand covered even his glasses now, the two layers needed then as his mind tried to deal with that additional outburst. This was his chosen family he had to remind himself, the only reason at all that they were allowed to behave as such. Though he still struggled to find a response. “My…new era, Giolla?”

“Absolutely!” She confirmed. 

What the fuck did that even mean? 

In fact, it was all so ridiculous that he wasn’t even irritated when yet another snail started ringing to interrupt him. But he didn’t hang up on Giolla just yet. He’d had another question he remembered, about the underground port and a repair that they hadn’t updated him on yet. Which they better have done if they had all this time to sit around and worry about him.

“Hold on,” Doflamingo told them, looking at his other snails on the shelf nearby. He pulled that ringing one over, clicking the connection open smoothly enough. “This is Joker. Make it quick,” Or not. Really anything was fine by this point as he was still half distracted.

“It’s me.” Came the almost soft female reply however. As if still concerned with being heard by unintended listeners.

But your voice still wasn’t quiet enough for those on his other line not to hear it even as Doflamingo genuinely froze in that single moment of realization.

He already knew your voice just from those two words. 

“You’re not on a secure line are you?” He breathed as he quickly regathered himself though, knowing his side was fine. But any standard marine snail of yours? Not so much.

“I just did a call back. I’m in the barracks.”

Ah, but that would mean you’d really answered for no one else since? Maybe you were more isolated than he’d thought. Not a bad thing when he wanted your time more and more to himself though.

He had still intended to call you later tonight actually. But when he was alone in his bed to properly enjoy it. Though maybe it was already later now than he’d realized.

“I’ll have to get you a better snail.” He smirked anyway. You were forcing him to improvise, but he was clearly pleased. So much so that he didn’t even take the time to hang up the other snail with his crew as his curiosity was already killing him. “And what do you need from me tonight, angel?”

You did pause. All the nicknames he rotated through still not familiar to you yet. Which was exactly why he did it.

“I’m sailing out tomorrow with a different ship. I…” You were still hesitating further regardless. 

He hadn’t heard you quite this nervous before. But he liked it too of course. Was he really getting under your skin so well? 

“There’s an island on this patrol that I want to take shore leave at. So I wondered if you’d be interested in meeting up there instead. Like I’d promised you before.” You finally got it out, though speaking a little more quickly as you had. Like the words might get stuck if you didn’t push them all out at once.

And his best shit eating grin was out in full force as he digested those words one after the other. 

It was an invitation.

You were doing the work for him already then without even being asked. It really couldn’t have been a better gift to him in this moment.

Tsuru must still be in those mountains then. Maybe with the faulty notion that she had time to wait and address this all with you in person. The circumstances of her favorite captain tangled up with her favorite mistake of a pirate being too scandalous of a conversation to broadcast over just a basic transponder snail after all. 

Yet who would you be sailing with then? No. It didn’t matter. Vergo could find out for him. Just like Vergo was always keeping an eye out on reports from Tsuru’s ship as well. Doflamingo always knew where that woman was sailing for next.

But he realized he hadn’t actually answered you, too content in this development overall. “Are you asking me out, lover?” 

“…it’s either a yes or no.” You rebutted quickly, sounding more like yourself there. 

He leaned further back in his chair, shoulders shaking a little as he chuckled smugly. “And what lucky island are you and I going to darken then?”

“Scylla.” You answered firmly. 

Well goddamn. His eyes widened behind his glasses a little, yet grinning still. “Straight to the top shelf then? Fuck. I like it, woman. I didn’t know you had champagne tastes on a canned beer marine budget.”

“I’ve wanted to go there a while.” You conceded, though still a bit sharp at that insult to your own pitiful income. “So that’s a yes?”

“What do you think?” He was too eager to even care about your bit of rising attitude. “When does your ship get there then? And how many days are you asking for them to approve?”

As you gave him the timeframe, he didn’t need to write it down. He was fully locked in, mind and body. 

“Then it’s a date.” He didn’t care how satisfied he truly sounded. “I’ll meet you in their church there. I trust you’ll know that landmark when you see it?”

“Well yeah.” You agreed, but you’d quieted a little more again. “How will I let you know if something changes? I didn’t put in my request yet.”

“I’m going to get you a new snail like I said. But until then, take down this number.” He allowed you time to get something to note it down, then proceeded to speak not only a direct number, but his actual personal one. It wouldn’t get blocked with the ingoing and outgoing business calls that rang all day and night for Joker.

His tongue had come out to graze his top lip as he made sure to make you aware of the privilege as well. “That one’s mine direct. Don’t fucking share it of course. But I wouldn’t be adverse to some late night check ins either.”

“I’m sure I’ll only get a bunk to sleep in with other sailors right atop me on this trip. It won’t be private,” You mumbled, though he could hear that bit of responding fluster from you even then.

And he didn’t give two shits that his crew could still hear him too, their own snail muted surely just so their reactions wouldn’t be evident. 

They’d already experienced enough of his flings screaming his name through the castle walls in Dressrosa by now. And from his bedroom in Spider Miles before that too. Once he was old enough to deal back out that pain and frustration through such a pleasurable outlet anyway. They all knew damned well how hungry their young master could really be.

“Careful with the wording, dear. I don’t think I want any sailors atop you anymore…that’s my job.” He teased even as his voice deepened. 

He’d barely realized how much he’d already spread his own legs by then too. Feet still against the edge of the desk as his chair leaned back precariously on two legs. His knees were spread wide in show even though there was no one here to see it.

Sir Crocodile, that specific fling he was still so very proud of, had once accused him of always strutting around like a bitch in heat. And Doflamingo hadn’t even been able to really argue. Pink feathers fluffed, shirt open, and legs spread for anyone who would dare look.

But he only wanted you in this moment at least. More specifically he wanted your face between his long legs. Your breath between his thighs as he’d run his tip across your parting lips.

“I have to get up early,” you protested, as if you had already realized that subtle change in his breathing over the phone.

“So?” He retorted, starting to undo the drawstrings of his pants. “I’m making time for you, you can do the same.”

With the continued movements of the ship, he still took the precaution to steady his chair a little more, running a few thin strings between it and the desk with one hand. Just as his other hand was pushing his loosened pants open.

He let go again of his pants though before placing his palm and long fingers along his bared chest. He was narcissistic enough to still enjoy the feel of his own muscles as he traced between them, fingers rubbing across those hard contours as he felt himself up and then back down along his abs. 

He teased himself fully in your absence, but with his hand finally moving low enough that his fingers did meet those short blond hairs below his waistline which trailed in a thin line to the base of his cock.

“Why Scylla then? You said you’ve wanted to go there before now. Tell me why.” He asked anyway to interrupt your silence as he kept massaging himself. He was being far kinder than he had to be. Letting you continue to play innocent in front of his crew like this. Even if he was about to be fucking himself yet again for you. 

He just wanted you to keep talking. Your voice in his ears at least if your body couldn’t be within his grip.

“I just didn’t think I’d ever get to see it.” An overly simple answer, too simple really. He felt there was more to this. Marines got to see the world on the daily. Why pick this one island specifically?

“It’s for the rich.” He answered anyway though. He’d read your file more than once, but he could fill in the gaps where that basic report had lacked. You’d been poor as shit he’d bet. Like all the other humans he’d become closest to though. The ones who had suffered almost as much as himself. Because only they could understand him, if even just a little.

You had probably been hungry and dirty until the very moment Tsuru had picked you up and dusted you off, giving you a life as a world government boot licker instead. Power through striking down anyone they asked you to. And doing it so goddamn well too.

Just like he now did as a warlord too. Really, how you marines thought yourselves so far above in morality was always beyond him. Two sides of the same coin really. And he could have gone either way in the beginning. Whether Tsuru or Trebol had won out for his fate, he would have remained the same destructive man inside he was sure, just of another name by now.

An admiral instead of a pirate, killing with as much abandon as Akainu and reveling in it. He would have still been abusing that power, using it to get closer to those gods that had cast him from his own place in heaven. Closer and closer until the day he could finally tear down everything they held dear.

But if he’d been an admiral, he would have locked you down years before now too. Aokiji was only a coward to him who didn’t understand the game. Of course enemies would always go for what was most valued. So they had to be made to fear the repercussions. Aokiji was too little too late. Even his threats in Sabaody weren’t enough. 

Not enough at all as Doflamingo stroked himself harder while smiling for you. “You realize we’re going to have to buy you appropriate clothes in the first day we’re there. What do you wear when you’re not in uniform anyway?”

Nothing he hoped. Did you sleep nude as often as he did? It’d be so much easier to take care of those late night urges that way.

“You of all people are going to talk to me about fashion?” There was that flustered tone again. Oh, he was sure that you knew what his hands were doing now. You were figuring him out quite quickly in only these still limited interactions.

But insulting him too? Well, it wasn’t exactly the dirty talk he would have preferred. But he could play all the same, even as his thumb smeared some of that precum, the digit working his tip in replacement for your tongue as he swallowed.

“If you’re taking me to church, I can wear a suit. I own plenty.” He added.

“Well no one would know it.” You snipped back.

Again, he let your attitude slide, his head tilted back more in that ever rising pleasure. He wanted to be in his real bed in the castle with you already. “My country’s warm and passionate, lover. You try having this sizable of equipment sweating in a three piece suit sometime. And the aggravation of having to get out of it quickly enough whenever someone wants to play.”

You scoffed a little. “So is that what you do in your kingdom? ‘Play’ all day in the heat?”

And that tone from you was newer. Though when you’d been drunk that other night, you’d fussed a little about how being passed over by both Aokiji and Smoker had left you unfulfilled. Because you only wanted to be the main dish, didn’t you? Not just another sampling from the buffet of potential conquests. “Mmm…sometimes.” He taunted anyway, even as his hand squeezed himself with only you in mind. “Jealous then?”

“No.” That was an awfully quick answer.

One which he didn’t believe at all, smiling as his abdomen was tensing in the beginnings of that spreading heat. “You liar. You don’t want me to fuck anyone else, do you? Does this little marine think she’s enough to sate me already? Just after a single quickie in some old filing room?”

Even to him it was almost hard to accept though. That he’d only fucked you one time truly. Sabaody had been botched, not really counting. But everything that had happened since, everything he’d felt in him now, had flared with a vengeance in that one chance meeting in Mariejois. Years of lust all the way from the North Blue had rekindled in a single moment there on the Red Line. 

All because Tsuru had left you alone and within his grasp for the first time he could ever remember. He hadn’t even intended to fully fuck you that day either. It was your fault in the end. If you hadn’t isolated yourself so far from everyone, if you hadn’t fought him so hard beforehand. If you hadn’t struck him violently enough to make him drink his own blood within seconds of confronting you. You’d both angered and turned him on so thoroughly before he could even catch you. There was no other way it could have possibly gone by then.

And he had considered killing you or at least bringing you to Sugar before he’d ever even entered that basement. Regardless of his previous fascinations with you from years prior, erasing you then would have been the safest thing for his future as Joker. But he couldn’t do it by the end. Because he’d still wanted more from you. And you’d wanted more from him.

He knew that you did.

“You’re going to do what you want. That has nothing to do with me.” Was your eventual answer to him though. Still not admitting that you were wishing for more fidelity with him.

And it was such a non committal, diplomatic trash of a response that he laughed loudly, mocking you. “You’re sounding too much like your marine mother. Fuck that noise! I’ll say it for you then. You want to be my only woman. You want me to take you out in Scylla like those shitheads never would, don’t you? And we’ll do it. Be ready, woman. You’ll see how it feels to be on my arm like a proper prize. You’re not going to want to ever give it up again.”

And that image of you properly dressed, something worthy of him at his side under those gas streetlights in Scylla almost sent him over. 

It would be better than Sabaody actually, because it would be your own idea this time. He didn’t even own a home on that island, but he would by tomorrow if it meant having you all to himself.

An all new villa that he could christen with you.

A nest of your choosing is what it would be. Wouldn’t it? Because he’d let someone else -you- have an input in which island for once. A place to be twisted up together in the night soon enough like a mated pair.

He did begin to cum at last then with that final concept, covering the tip quickly with his hand to keep it from going everywhere like the other night as it pulsed out hot and sticky into his palm.

He did pant a little in the aftermath, all four legs of the chair finally back down as he licked his lips again. He wiped the spent seed off on his pants too, not caring in this moment.

“It will be a good choice. I’ve never ‘played’ in Scylla actually.” He teased in an almost lazy voice then after he’d had that needed release. “I’ve only breezed through there on business before.”

“I’ve just read about it.” You admitted, though sounding a little like you didn’t know what else to say. You didn’t have the alcohol to help spur you on like that time on the phone before. “I do need to go to bed.” You reminded.

He smirked anyway as he knew you were trying to hang up. “You won’t be so shy when we’re in the same room again I’m sure. Fine, go to sleep. Call me if your schedule changes.”

“Ok.”

“Night then, lover.” He tried to really throw on the affection in that enticement too before you could disconnect though, wanting you to at least say something similar in return this time.

He heard you make a sound, like you were being put on the spot. And of course you were. But you were still turning practical again when he didn’t want you to be. He’d really need to loosen up some of that marine brainwashing you always fell back into when cornered.

“What do you want me to call you?” You asked him instead, like speaking to another officer then really.

“It doesn’t matter to me. As long as you mean it.” He pushed back. He knew it was there. If you would just allow it.

It was silent for another long moment. As if he could hear the gears in your head spinning, trying to come up with something that would let you properly escape from this call.

And then you just said it still with the intonation of a question. “My boyfriend?”

Doflamingo bit his lip to stifle the almost helpless laugh that wanted to come from him. Yes, he’d teased you with that briefly last time. But he didn’t expect you to latch onto it when there were so many better terms. You either had no imagination at all or were still too goddamn innocent. Were you even serious? 

To fight like you did and fuck like you did, but to still say something like that as if it was really suitable for a god.

“Fine, if that’s the best you can do.” This had to start somewhere. “Your boyfriend’s hanging up now so your sexy ass can get back to sea tomorrow and come find me. Don’t fuck any sailors. I’ll be waiting.”

He heard your surprise at what he’d called you then. But you didn’t hesitate for long as you answered in renewed attitude. “Then keep yours wrapped with your ‘playdates’ at least if you expect it raw again in Scylla.”

“Bitch, I always wrap it with the pool girls or when getting some strange. But you aren’t either of those things.” He spat back just as fast, though smirking at that realization that maybe it had bothered you when he hadn’t fussed with any condoms yet.

In all honesty, he just hadn’t wanted to. You’d had him so fired up both times. A calculated risk, but Mariejois was so long ago really. He’d been checked since then. He knew you were clean and you’d stay that way unless you decided to cheat on him. And woe be unto you if he had to find out that way.

He did use protection normally though. Whether you believed that or not. 

“Pool girls? Nice. I’m sure they’re lovely.” You sighed. 

“They are. But one true kick from you and they’d be eating out of a feeding tube I’m sure.” He nearly purred.

“I…if you think this is how to flirt.” You stammered.

“Sounds like it’s working.” He goaded.

“Fuck you.”

“I just did.” He was laughing. Finally he’d pushed the right button then. So of course he hit it immediately again with that gem.

And that’s when you gave up. The futility evident to you. “Good night, asshole.”

“Good night, woman. See you in Scylla.” He finished chuckling in return. Before the snail clicked with the final end of the call.

Doflamingo did groan afterward though, a tired yet conceited smile twisting across his face as he spoke back into the new silence. “Well how was that for you, you eavesdropping bastards?”

And never disappointing him in their equal lack of decorum, the other snail perked back up immediately, coming off the mute it had been on all this time. 

It was Diamante’s voice that answered first, no shame in it at all. “Giolla went and got the wine. We’ve been having a nice drink, Doffy, while you courted that female. That was entertaining.”

“You should have heard her the other night,” Doflamingo mused, thinking another drink sounded pretty good actually as he tucked his now soft length back into his pants. He didn’t bother to retie the waist though, reaching out for the bourbon bottle again. 

He didn’t feel like fighting with it and the glass together anymore though, just drinking straight from the bottle this time. The burn felt good in his throat before he set the bottle back down, legs still spread.

“I’m going to have to blow some more beri though. Goddamn, this woman keeps costing me money. I don’t even know what houses are going for in Scylla these days either.” Renting was out of the question. He wouldn’t pay others just to be allowed onto their property and be told to abide by their rules while doing so.

“Oh, but young master, it’ll be carnival season then too!” And there was Giolla again, still sounding fully invested, albeit a little less loud at least. As if the wine was already working on her.

“Fuck…seriously?” Doflamingo sighed. He hadn’t even thought of that. Try almost three times the price for villas right now then. 

“But the dances, the masks, the fireworks!” She responded. “What a clever little marine to ask for such scenery for a romantic rendezvous. Why I remember being a young girl during carnival…but never there. Though they say Scylla’s scale absolutely puts Water 7’s plebeian festivities to shame.”

He wondered if you’d had any idea about this plan falling during carnival either. You hadn’t mentioned it at least. Though there was a whole lot of things carnival masks could help with the more he thought of it. And he would know. 

Between his smile and his glasses, he absolutely lived beneath a mask already. But you didn’t. With one of your own, how much more would you open up for him in public without the fear of being recognized by your peers?

He took another swig of the bourbon straight from the bottle then. This night was now over for accomplishing much else. “Put some money back into the real estate account in the morning.” He instructed. “At least four times what we made in that last weapons sell off. I guess I’m going house shopping this week.”

“Yes, Doffy,” Trebol and Diamante answered nearly simultaneously, not at all questioning the fiscal irresponsibility of their captain’s ever changing whims. If anything they sounded eager at the new opportunity.

Because they knew that he was. 

Someone to be this serious about was something he’d wanted for long enough.

——————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

——————————

Thanks for reading!

[mssr-crumpled-paper]

Peeta and Gale: being a character

Consider this post a continuation of this.

So, as I've said, I had a really hard time relating or believing in Peeta as a character when reading THG. This post aims to point out some of the points why I believe Peeta is more a concept than an actual character (and how that's incredibly unfair for Gale).

On Peeta:

The first, and most obvious point, is that the purpose of Peeta's character is to represent Katniss's conscience, but also to be the "better" choice. Idk about everyone else, but it was always glaringly obvious to me that Peeta would be the endgame for Katniss, one way or another. He was made with the explicit intention of being the perfect partner for Katniss, and a perfect person in general. Notice how he has no substantial flaws of his own, is distinctly devout to Katniss even without knowing anything about her personally; and every mistake that he does make can easily be chocked up to his care for Katniss or trauma from forces he can't control.

We know virtually next to nothing about Peeta as well. Please be kind and name me 1 instance where either of Peeta's brothers' names were mentioned anywhere. Like in the books, not on a wiki page. None, no names for his dad, for his mom, for his family. Barely know any of his friends, except for Delly.

We also do not know his relation to District 12 or the Seam. Now, many people will argue that this would be pointless, but I believe not. Peeta, for him to truly be able to exist as a character in his own right, needs to be considered within the context of his community. And since we don't get ANY, it makes all his talks of "people are starving," and "kids in 12 are struggling" seems unconvincing. Like was he poor? Absolutely. He also ate bread regularly, never had to take out tessarae, never had to hunt or kill, and he was a merchant's kid. Half of the people from the district, who are so closely or at least somewhat related to Katniss, we never see him interacting with ever.

In combination, all of these elements make it so that Peeta is basically devoid of an actual character other than "good guy with bread." Readers are free to project whatever image they see fit onto him, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect husband, the perfect brother. He didn't even mention his family twice after losing them, and I won't assume the pain wasn't horrible for him, but he quite literally said "No one needs me." Of course they need you Peeta, they're your family? He felt almost disconnected from the context surrounding him, making it hard for me to truly buy into his character.

On Gale:

The first thing we know about Gale is that he is Katniss's best friend, the person who knows the real her, the one who she can let loose with. Immediately this is a lot of information to work with. Considering the fact that Katniss up until this point didn't seem too fond of people in general, Gale is set up to be a good guy with a sense of love and respect for his friend. And since we meet him in the forest, one can assume that he's struggling as well, or at least rebellious. It's also very obvious within the first chapter that Gale is a flawed character (re: him snapping at Madge, which he acknowledges as a tactic of the Capitol).

This fact is elaborated on right after, when we are told that Gale is also a fatherless hunter running around in the woods. His family is poor, and he's the sole provider for the family. He has three younger siblings, one of which is just a baby, and a mom. Like Katniss, he's put his name in for tessarae for a long time, and provides for a 5 persons household mostly on his own. We know the name of Rory, of Posy, of Hazelle, his mother who does laundry for work, who later works as a house-keeper for Haymitch. We know that Hazelle placed a lot of trust in both Katniss and Gale. We know that Rory has to eventually put his name in more times to get tessarae.

We know Gale's relation to the District. He's generally popular with kids his age at school. He banters and interacts with the people at the Hob. He hunts for game and provides for the district. He holds a hatred for the Capitol that was larger than himself and Katniss. He understood their methods of systemic oppression. He was generally class conscious about his condition, and his thirst for righteous revenge stems largely from the suffering that people of the district and he himself go through. He saved his district to the best of his ability when it was razed to the ground, and he joined the rebellion effort because he genuinely believed that would liberate his people.

There's a lot more I can say about the wider context of Gale as a character, but on a whole he feels real. Very flawed, very angry, and very real. SC makes no pretense about Gale being someone who cares deeply for his district, for Katniss, and for his family. That's a sense of solidarity that I can cling onto. He exists within that general context that he was put in, and therefore makes more sense.

[blandtako]

Why did it have to be a Daffodil? | Sung Hanbin x GN!Reader | Chapter 1

➤ Summary: After having become close friends during their first year of Highschool, Hanbin and Y/N have become inseparable. Highschool, college, adulthood, nothing would change the fact that they'd always be there for one another, no matter how much it hurt. ➤ Pairing: Sung Hanbin x GN!Reader ➤ Genre: fluff, angst, highschool au, college au, unrequited love, slight smut (In certain chapters, there will be warnings). ➤ Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, allusions to anxiety and/or depression, suggestive, Hanbin is bisexual. The ff was written with the perception of a Male!Reader in mind, but I will be using gender neutral pronouns. More specific warnings will be added depending on the chapter. ➤ Status: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 (Work in progress) | upcoming ➤ Word Count: 6,6K ➤ A/N: Finally finished working on Chapter 1! This is mainly an introductory Chapter in which we get to know Y/N and get to see a few of the characters within this story! Keep in mind that at least in the first few chapters (Probably around Chapter 4-5) the characters are attending highschool, and most romantic moments will happen after that. I hope you enjoy! This is my first ff, so I'm gonna try my best, even though I've found writing dialogues a HUGE hassle lmao. If you have any suggestion or constructive criticism, please go ahead and share it! Any help will be appreciated <3

Y/N’s train of thoughts could be quite dispersive at times. From imagining themselves in made-up scenarios to worrying about how to optimize their time spent on video games, there was one thing in particular that they often thought about. How would their life be as a TV series? What events would be shown, and what wouldn’t be considered interesting enough to be put on screen? Their responses to themselves would change from time to time, but the one thing that wouldn’t change was the fact that even within their own life, Y/N would be a supporting character at best. Nothing particularly exciting had ever happened to them. They had a loving family, and while there could be a few small fights, it was nothing more than an argument any kind of family would have. To be fair, Y/N had never been a rebel, and while they did have their share of flaws (such as an intense need to procrastinate that led to their votes not always being the best), they weren’t the type to cause much of a ruckus. Middle school wasn’t exactly the greatest, but Y/N had soon realized that most kids used to be menaces to society around that age and thus acknowledged that there were many who had been subjected to the same type of treatment. That isn’t to say that Y/N’s self-esteem had managed to come out of it unscathed though, and their trust within humanity as a whole had descended quite a bit (although that might have just been their edgy years talking). But bullying was something many people experienced, and some cases had it much, MUCH worse than Y/N ever had, so to them it just felt a bit egotistical to complain. Besides, while there weren’t a lot, Y/N did have friends who cared for them and who they cared for. Y/N would exaggerate when it came to having to define how tough their life was, but truthfully they knew that they didn’t really have it that rough, and deep down they’d be thankful for that.  What type of TV series could ever be made about such a monotonous life? As the sunlight streamed in through the cracks in the blinds of Y/N’s bedroom window, drawing colorful patterns on the sheets and part of the wooden floor, a subdued growl vibrated throughout the entire room. A muffled groan complained in return, as Y/N was practically begging to be left alone to sleep just for a bit longer, but not even a second after the sound had made it out of their mouth, a high, loud bark responded to them right away from the end of the bed. “FINE, I GET IT!” Y/N yelled out in frustration as D/N (dog’s name) got closer to them, wagging its tail as it raised a paw in Y/N’s direction, trying to obtain their attention, to which Y/N faked crying. “See? D/N doesn’t want you to be late for your first day of high school either.” S/N (Sister’s name)’s voice came out from behind the door as she slowly creaked it open. “Mom already took D/N out for a walk before heading to work, but it hasn’t had something to eat yet. Refill its bowl when you go downstairs.” Y/N simply hummed in response, raising their torso and stretching their arms before getting off of bed to aid D/N in doing the same. Approaching the bedroom’s window, the first thing Y/N did after having woken up was open it to let fresh air inside. As they opened the blinds, Y/N’s eyes were forced shut by the brightness of the sun that now flowed into the room, filling every dark space with a cool, yet peaceful breath of air.

Blinking in rapid succession, Y/N rubbed their eyes with their right arm to adjust his sight to the rays of light they were met with. Y/N was surprised by how cold the weather had gotten, especially considering how warm the climate was just a couple of days prior. It felt like the world had simply decided to skip over Autumn, going directly to Winter. Not that Y/N could blame it, to be honest; their opinion on Autumn was perhaps controversial, but they could not stand it whatsoever. Y/N liked the colors and products associated with it, and they were a huge fan of Halloween marathons on TV. What they did not like was the abundance of bugs that would reappear throughout this season. In particular, they’d consider bed bugs the bane of their existence. Making their way downstairs, Y/N found their sister already nicely dressed and ready to leave the house. She smiled back at them, a comforting look in her eyes. “Are you ready for your first day?” She asked. “As ready as one can be when they’d rather just keep sleeping through the day…” Y/N responded sarcastically, despite appreciating their sister’s concern. She chuckled, adding a small “You’ll do just fine.” before hugging them and walking out the door. “Thanks…see you at dinner.” While Y/N and their sister never really had a bad relationship, it was only now that the two had actually started spending more time together. They had a 4 year difference, and S/N was always considered pretty mature for her age, while Y/N could be a bit dense at times. Y/N cherished her a lot, even though they couldn’t help but be jealous of how she seemingly went about her life so…effortlessly? It felt like she would be able to tackle anything put in her path, unfazed by the level of difficulty presented to her. She was also very beautiful; Y/N would often joke to her about how it wasn’t fair that their parents had tried harder when it came to conceiving her as opposed to them.

After having been woken up by D/N’s excitement, Y/N realized that it was quite early. They refilled their dog’s bowl with food and water and then slowly went to take a warm shower, after which they brushed their teeth. Y/N was surprised as to how calm they were at the moment. They felt like maybe they hadn’t fully grasped what was about to happen quite yet. High school could be quite dire for teenagers, and being someone who greatly despised attention on themselves, Y/N’s plan was to live out their school life as smoothly and quietly as possible; avoid any embarrassing situation; avoid people who looked like they could bring trouble; and attempt to be as pleasant as possible but not to the point where others would actively be seeking out for them.Unfortunately, plans didn’t always unravel the way one wanted them to, and Y/N would have soon had to reconsider most, if not all, of their ways.  Petting their dog’s head one last time, Y/N picked up their gray backpack and walked out the front door, locking it as they did so. The autumn breeze hit Y/N’s skin, coldly reminding them that summer was now gone, alongside their hobby of doing nothing throughout the entire day as there was no need to. The leaves of trees blushed hearth hues above, contrasting the sapphire color that tinted the sky. Y/N sighed as they mentally prepared themselves for the bus ride that was waiting for them. Despite having showered, they could feel their eyes doze off, struggling to remain open as Y/N was now used to getting much more sleep than what they got this night. It had been a couple of weeks now, and Y/N would always tell themselves that they had to go to bed earlier and wake up earlier as well, so that they would be prepared for the school year…alas, they always failed, claiming that they functioned much better at night. Now, they cursed at themselves for that. Brushing their thoughts aside, Y/N slowly walked to the bus stop close to their house. It was a couple of minutes walk at most, and they still had about 10 minutes left before the next bus would arrive. They tilted their head to the side as they saw cars driving in and out of a house closeby. Y/N’s mother had told them that someone had bought it and would have transferred there soon. Y/N simply spent the wait scrolling through their phone, and once the bus did get there, they were thankful to see that most of the seats were still free. Y/N was thankful that this was one of the first stops the bus had to take, so this was usually the case. As they got on, they showed their bus pass to the conductor and then went on to take a seat. It was a 30 minutes ride, and as such, Y/N thought it wouldn’t be that bad of an idea to lean their head on the bus’ window and get a bit of rest. Their gaze was initially fixed on the landscape outside, taking some type of enjoyment in observing the rest of the world wake up and also go on about their lives, but soon, their eyelids began fluttering, and his mind started to drift away to the land of dreams. Only, instead of being able to wander through Morpheus’ reign, Y/N’s mind was immediately picked up and thrown back to reality by the uncomfortably loud voice of a familiar person that had gone to take the seat right next to them.

“You couldn’t even wait for me to get on the bus…did you stay up all night playing League again? ” Y/N didn’t know whether or not this voice sounded incredibly irritating or lovingly familiar to them. Y/N’s immediate groan left space for a soft smile, as their eyes were met with the sight of the person they considered their best friend applying blush on her own face. “I don’t think we’re allowed to wear make-up…” Y/N’s voice was muffled due to them being on the verge of falling asleep. They recomposed themselves, straightening up to leave their friend more space. She paused for a second, turning to face Y/N as she spoke up. “It’s not a lot; it shouldn’t be an issue…besides, I have to look my best if I want to make a good impression on others, no? You’re going to leave me to do all the talking anyway…” The brunette exclaimed as she went back to focus on what she was doing before. Y/N simply chuckled in response, as Alice wasn’t wrong at all.

Alice and Y/N met during their second year of middle school. The two did not attend the same class, and weirdly enough, had never even seen each other around school before their meeting. Their school had organized a field trip for all classes within their year, and because theirs were the ones with the least amount of people in them, they ended up sharing a bus. Still, there were many free seats, and thus Y/N took advantage of that to basically lay on two of them to use as a makeshift bed.  Just like a bolt from the blue though, Alice and a friend of hers decided to approach Y/N to ask if they could let them sit there. Asking themselves why out of all people, the duo had to go and disturb them, Y/N groaned but let them take the seats anyway.  Normally, that interaction would have been their last, but unlike them, Alice made it clear right away that she was a big extrovert.  Alice and her friend started making riddles to all those that sat close to them, and as Y/N also fit in that category, they were brought into it as well.  It felt awkward at first, but Alice had been capable of bringing Y/N out of their shell, which Y/N was grateful for. They started hanging out together since then, and quickly became very close. “There is only one person from your class in middle school, right?” Alice asked as she put her hand mirror in her brown backpack. Y/N hummed. “Mhm, Kang Hye-na. She can be kind, but we weren’t really close.” “Don’t worry, Jisoo and Mingi will be with us too. I’ve already introduced you to them. There are also a few more names I’ve seen around, but there are quite a lot of people I’ve never met yet.” she added nonchalantly as she smiled at them. “It’s alright, you’ll carry my social life like I carry you in League.” Y/N responded by chuckling to themselves, but quickly jolted in pain after having received a jab to the stomach by their friend. “We’re doomed then.” Alice added, joining Y/N in their laughter. Y/N was indeed worried about having to meet new people. Making a good first impression was quite important, but they also didn’t really feel like having to put too much effort into getting to know them. Socializing with people truly was tough, and Y/N was never really fond of having to do that. Fortunately enough, their new class didn’t really have a lot of people.

The bus ride continued smoothly, and soon enough, the pair got off the bus alongside a number of other students who immediately walked towards the gate. An intense feeling of nausea started dwelling up within Y/N’s chest as a back and forth of students began surrounding them, as everybody attempted to get past the morning rush that was causing a cluster of people to form in front of the gates.  Students, teachers, staff…it all made Y/N’s head hurt, as they narrowed their eyes in an attempt to stay focused on the road ahead. New students clearly did not know where to go, and it quickly became a mess. Crowds were something Y/N really couldn’t deal with well. They felt out of place; they could feel their lungs burning up as breathing started to become harder and a need to escape invaded their thoughts. Like a slap to the face though, Y/N was brought down to earth by Alice’s gesture of grasping their hand to hold onto. “Stay close to me…” She muttered out as people pushed through. And almost as quickly as it came to be, the crowd dispersed, as everyone was finally able to go on their own merry way. Y/N and Alice did as well, managing to find a sign that indicated the location of their classroom.

The first thing Y/N noticed after having entered the room were the beige walls that enclosed it; they were mostly empty, giving off an eerie yet nostalgic feeling about them. There were a few maps attached to them, yet it wasn’t enough to shake off that apprehension. Two windows on one side of the room and three more at the back of it took over the role of illuminating the class, allowing light through them to repel darkness. “They’re already here!” Alice’s voice whispered (but also not really) to them, pushing Y/N to divert their gaze from the walls and onto the few people that had already arrived. Mingi and Jisoo, Alice’s friends, were already there, having taken two adjacent desks around the left side of the class. Y/N could see Alice moving from the corner of their right eye as the girl basically rushed to greet her other friends. Y/N counted six other students but couldn’t really recognize any of them, assuming they all had to be coming from other schools. Some of them were interacting with each other, while others were simply sitting on a chair, fidgeting with their fingers. That made them feel slightly better, as there were people who were in the same situation as them: riddled with anxiety.

Y/N reached Alice, greeting Mingi and Jisoo with a polite bow. The duo smiled in return. “How are you feeling, Y/N?” Jisoo asked with a small smile painted on her face. “Could be better, will definitely be missing sleeping up until lunch time…” Y/N replied, to which Mingi chuckled. “I get that; I have spent this summer rotting away in my room…” He added. “You kinda did that even throughout the school year though?” Alice’s voice interrupted. “You say that as if you haven’t been doing the same…” Mingi stated, to which Alice shrugged her shoulders. “I need sleep to be as perfect as I always am.” “Have you applied make-up?” Jisoo’s quiet voice came out, interrupting the banter between the two, and Alice struggled to find the words to respond immediately. Y/N chuckled. “It shouldn’t be an issue, right?” Their words filled with a teasing tone that Alice immediately shut down with a loud groan. The four of them kept talking for a bit, pausing themselves from time to time to observe those who they would have soon called classmates. Alice and Mingi would greet familiar faces, while Jisoo and Y/N remained still, both too introverted to really go out of their way to say hello. They’d awkwardly smile at each other when those moments happened, finding some type of comfort knowing that they weren’t alone in that struggle. Hyena had also entered the classroom at some point, but Y/N limited themselves to waving at her, to which she replied in a similar manner.

It didn’t take long for a middle-aged woman with black hair tied into a ponytail to enter the classroom, which led to students all taking a seat. Alice and Y/N sat in two adjacent desks, right next to Mingi and Jisoo’s. The woman introduced herself as Mrs. Choi, their class’ coordinator. She began a whole speech about integrity, the importance of studying and then remarked multiple times how her role was that of acting as a liaison between the class and their teachers. To be honest, be it due to lack of sleep or be it due to the whole speech being as basic as one could possibly be, Y/N didn’t really put a lot of effort into listening to her. The words ‘introduce yourselves’ stuck out to them, and by the time the first student began speaking, Y/N realized what was going on and what they had to do. They found these types of introductions a bit awkward, but could understand why they were important…you can’t really spend the future 3 years without knowing your classmates’ names. Everyone was stating their first and last name, their age, and one thing they liked and disliked. Y/N could feel second-hand embarrassment take over them, but soon enough came to the conclusion that they couldn’t waste time feeling empathy towards others when their turn to do the same wasn’t that far away. Jisoo introduced herself, then Mingi, and as Alice was about to finish speaking, Y/N had yet to decide what to say. As soon as their friend was done, Y/N could see eyes shift onto them, waiting for them to talk. As their heartbeat became irregular, Y/N opened their mouth to speak. “Y/N L/N, I turned 16 this summer…one thing I like is…sleeping…I guess? and I dislike bitter food.” “Well, I sure do hope you won’t be sleeping during my classes.” Mrs. Choi made an attempt at a joke, to which some students chuckled. They survived that first experience, but knowing how these things work, Y/N didn’t expect that round of introductions to be the last one. Once everybody had finished introducing themselves, Mrs. Choi started talking about her subject and what the class would have been about. They had three more classes before lunch break, and three more after it. The second and third one came and went about as smoothly as they could have, despite the fact that each student had to introduce themselves again. By the time they were done, Y/N and Alice would tell each other what each student would be saying before they could even finish, pretend to be mind readers, and then chuckle at their childish sense of humor. The issues came during the last lesson before lunch break. Their math teacher, Mr. Kim, thought it would have been fun to shuffle the class a bit, assuming that everyone would have sat close to students they already knew. He wasn’t wrong, but it was still very much unneeded. Alice couldn’t contain her laughter when Y/N stared at her with imploring eyes. “Sorry, can’t save you.” she stated lightly. All students folded a piece of paper with their name written on it and gave it to Mr. Kim, who improvised a lottery.

As each name got extracted, Y/N couldn’t help but think about how pointless this whole thing was. They would have rather taken a test than having to do this. Why would a teacher force them all out of their comfort zone right from the beginning? ‘Just leave us be…’ Y/N thought to themselves, holding their temples with an exasperated look. “...L/N Y/N!” a shiver went up Y/N’s back as they could feel their skin getting warmer. Why did this whole thing remind them of the Hunger Games? They stood up, moving to the new seat that was waiting for them. The spot next to it was still empty, but the best they could have hoped for was for Mingi’s name to come up, as Alice and Jisoo had lucked out by being paired with each other. “...Seok Matthew!” Mr. Kim mouthed. ‘Oh, the Canadian guy.’ Seok Matthew had lived in Canada for most of his childhood, transferring to Korea during his last year of Middle School. He had also skipped a year, so he was actively younger than the majority of the class by a year. ‘Seok Matthew liked eating and is recently getting into cooking as well, he dislikes rain during summer…which is oddly specific.’ Y/N thought as their gaze was fixed on the young man walking towards them. Matthew was also the only person who came from his previous class, and didn’t really seem to know anybody, yet he approached Y/N beaming a smile that radiated happiness through and through. The way he spoke and expressed himself had an innocent yet contrastingly sly charm about it. One could describe the young man as being similar to the sun: it makes you want to stare at him, but the more you do, the more you endanger yourself. The type of person who’d be able to convince you to do something even if you didn’t want to. Y/N would know, their best friend was that type of person. Y/N hummed to themselves ‘Be careful, Y/N.’. “Matthew. It’s nice to meet you!” the young brunette offered a handshake, his toothy smile shaking Y/N to their core. Recomposing themselves from the initial dumbfoundedness, Y/N accepted the handshake, sporting an attempt at a smile. “Y/N. Nice to meet you too.” “I saw your keychain…” Matthew pointed at Y/N’s backpack, a small Eevee keychain being attached to it. “I’m a HUGE Pokémon fan!” “A-Ah, I see…” “What’s your favorite generation!?” Matthew’s whispering did not resemble a whisper, and Y/N’s anxiety spiked up due to not wanting to be scolded by the teacher. “Heart Gold was my first game…I’ve got a soft spot for Gen two.” “Ah! Blastoise is my favorite, I do like Gen one a lot!” Y/N nodded. Y/N was quite the fan of Pokémon as well, but they could discern that there were better moments to talk about that than lessons. “I understand that you want to get to know each other, but could you please do so another time? L/N, Seok?” Mr. Kim called them out, and Y/N immediately jolted up, mumbling an ‘I apologize’. Matthew did the same, but Y/N couldn’t really hear him, due to embarrassment having fulfilled most of their thoughts. They could feel their chest tightening, their cheeks were blushing, and their ears’ color was also darkening. Deep down, they were cursing the sunshine boy next to them, although that feeling died down the moment Matthew turned towards them to apologize. “It’s alright, don’t worry.” Y/N couldn’t really manage to say anything else, as the puppy look their deskmate was giving them was making them feel guilty for even having had such thoughts.

Once their seats were rearranged, Mr. Kim also went over the program they would have studied throughout the year, but Mr. Kim had also decided that surprises were not over with him. “Your last class today will also be with me, so I figured I’d give you a little assignment! I want you to get acquainted with your new deskmates. We’ll be doing a small test later to see how much you’ve managed to accomplish that and what your cooperation skills are looking like! Is that all good?” A chorus of yes followed their teacher’s request, but all Y/N could think about was: ‘What the hell does any of this have to do with math…’. As soon as the teacher made his way out the door, a buzzing of voices followed, as people began exchanging pleasantries to get to know each other. “Can…Can I ask you something?” Y/N turned around as Matthew’s voice spoke clearly. “Oh, sure.” “Do you want to have lunch with my friends and me?" It’s ok if you can’t, I figured that we could maybe…take advantage of that to get to know each other more?” Y/N’s brain became foggy for a second, not expecting that request. They were aware of the fact that Matthew must have felt alone in the new class, but they also weren’t much of a fan of having to socialize with a number of people they had never spoken to. ‘It’s easy Y/N, just reject saying that you’re going to have lunch with your friends and that you can’t leave them alone.’ “I…” Matthew seemed very hopeful. Those puppy eyes… “Sure, I’d be happy to. Could my friends join us too?” Those damn puppy eyes. “Of course! The more the merrier!”

The aroma of savory meat spread throughout the entire cafeteria, making its way down Y/N’s nostrils the moment they walked through the door. Mrs. Choi had mentioned how the school’s cafeteria’s cooking was quite good, but they did not expect to be surprised THAT much. “Can you smell that? My mouth is salivating…” Matthew said, and next to him, Alice nodded with energy. Y/N hoped that Alice would have given them any reason to refuse Matthew’s offer, but their hopes were foolishly misplaced, as Alice grinned and accepted right away. Mingi and Jisoo weren’t against it either, and so the quartet made their way to have lunch together. Y/N truly felt disappointed in themselves…they thought they’d be less inclined to be convinced by people’s antics. They all got in line to get their food tray, and slowly filled them up with what they wanted to eat, with Y/N being the last. “Oh, my friends are here!” What happened after that all felt like a confused and foggy mess in Y/N’s head. The sound of footsteps protruded all around them; Y/N thought they heard Alice introducing herself, and voices they couldn’t recognize started responding back to her. Y/N turned around. A loud thud followed. They could feel something bumping into them, or maybe they were the one who bumped into it? Y/N could feel their body lose their balance, making its way to meet the floor beneath their feet, only to halt halfway through. Was there a way to prevent this incident? If Y/N hadn’t accepted Matthew’s request, would they be in this situation? They couldn’t blame the poor boy for their own incapability of standing perfectly still. Were Y/N’s shoelaces untied? Or were they simply extremely clumsy? Y/N couldn’t really tell. Y/N’s eyelashes fluttered as they continued to rapidly blink multiple times. Their vision became clearer, and everything started to be put in place within their scattered brain.

Y/N’s food tray was on the ground, food scattered all over the floor. ‘That must be the source of the thud.’ they concluded to themselves. “Are you alright?” Y/N’s head whipped towards the direction of the voice that spoke to them. Y/N was being held by a young man with short, black hair. His uniform had been stained by Y/N’s food, with grains of rice and a couple of pieces of marinated beef laying over it. Y/N’s whole face was turning red, as they could feel their chest getting heavier with each breath. They had goosebumps all over their arms, and their whole skin was getting warmer and warmer by the second. It was over. It had to be over. Y/N would have never been able to live knowing how much of a mess they had made. Disappearing right then and there was the only way they would have been able to avoid dying from humiliation. That was the only way. Y/N had to conjure a hole to swallow them up and never spit them out ever again. “Can you stand?” The young man’s question seemed genuine enough, not really emanating any type of angry vibe…yet, Y/N refused to believe that the raven haired boy that was holding them did not want to punish them for their clumsiness. “A-Ah! YES!” Y/N basically yelled out as they recomposed themselves, finally feeling ground under their feet again. “I am so, so sorry! P-please let me help!” The boy chuckled as Y/N took out a napkin from their pocket. “It’s all good! Don’t worry!” He smiled, disarming Y/N in the process. Turning to look at the food tray that laid on the ground, he opened his mouth again. “Your food on the other hand has likely seen better times…” “Oh.” Y/N mumbled. They started to lower their upper body in order to pick it up, but the boy had preceded them, doing so and handing it over to them. Y/N bowed, their head almost hitting the ground to show their gratitude. “It’s ok, really. You don’t have to worry!” Even as the boy claimed that, what else could Y/N do? They had just embarrassed themselves in front of a large portion of the school. They could feel an increasing amount of eyes laying on their figures, scanning every single one of their motions. Y/N’s survival plan when it came to high school was fairly simple. Do NOT make a scene, EVER. The least amount of attention you gather the better. You don’t want to give people a reason to think of you as memorable, you want to be forgotten, not noticed. Y/N had just failed that one task. On their first day of school to boost that up. How much of a failure could they be? “You know you could have picked something else if you didn’t want rice and beef, right?” Alice’s voice became clear, as Y/N snapped from their thoughts of impending doom. This got a laugh out of the boy who had saved them. “She’s not wrong, you could have just asked me if I wanted to eat it instead.” “Hanbin Hyung, don’t tease them like that…” Matthew’s voice was the one thing holding Y/N back from falling into an abyss of shame. Matthew’s friend chuckled. “I know, I’m just kidding. Besides, it was also my fault for standing so close to them. I’m sorry.” Y/N’s body reacted before they could properly think, as they went to shake their hands in front of their chest. “Don’t worry, I should have looked where I was going…also, I should probably clean, shouldn’t I? You guys go up ahead and take a table.” As they said so, Y/N immediately kneeled down, picking up remains of food with a napkin. “Ah, wait.” Y/N looked up to see Matthew’s friend move to talk to one of the lunch ladies, and then come back with a broom and a dustpan in his hands. He helped Y/N clean the food off of the food, and then went back to give the broom back, throwing the food he had gathered in the dustpan in the garbage bin. Y/N didn’t know what to do except from thanking the boy over and over again. From Y/N’s point of view, they were the cause of the mess, dragging in a poor guy who responded with nothing but kindness. It was sketchy, but he seemed genuine.

“Thank you…and sorry.” “I told you it’s all good!” The boy, who had introduced himself as Sung Hanbin, stated while smiling. Y/N couldn’t help but think that maybe all of Matthew’s circle of friends had positive mindsets, it felt surreal. As Hanbin and Y/N got food for themselves again, they walked towards the table the others had sat around. Alice, Mingi, Jisoo, Matthew and another young man, whose name was Taerae, sat at the table talking to each other, and when they saw Hanbin and Y/N approach them, they scooted to the side of the table to let them some space. “Cinderella, I’m not sure you cleaned everything properly…” Alice lightly mocked Y/N. “Ah, I apologize, evil stepmother, next time I shall do better.” The two chuckled, and a few giggles could be heard around them too. “We were talking about how we met each other!” Matthew said as he looked in Hanbin and Y/N’s direction, who were now sitting in front of one another. “Mhm, I told them that the moment I saw you laying on those seats in the bus, the first thing I thought was ‘That sack of potatoes is going to become my best friend.’, and it turns out I can predict the future!” Alice jumped in, explaining the story again so that Hanbin could be caught up. “...So most of your first times meeting someone are eventful moments.” Hanbin joked, referring himself to their own meeting. “I know, right? I don’t know what it is, but I can’t meet someone without dragging myself through the mud first.” Hanbin chuckled again, his eyes litting up as he did. Y/N thought he had a beautiful smile. “What about you? How did you guys meet?” Jisoo asked. “Oh, Taerae and I attended the same singing lessons! As for Matthew, our parents have known each other for a long time, so I’ve been taking care of him since he transferred here.” Hanbin explained, to which Matthew interjected. “You make it sound like I’m a baby or something…” “Yeah, my baby!~” The black haired boy went to tease the other by poking his cheeks, and a small whine came out of Matthew’s mouth, although it seemed clear to Y/N that he was actually enjoying it. Y/N smiled as Mingi yelled out a ‘cute!’. The group kept on conversing up until time came to head off to class again. “We should probably get going…” Taerae said as he tapped Hanbin’s right shoulder. Hanbin nodded. “We’ll see you around then! and take care of Matthew for me!” Hanbin chuckled as he smiled at the others. Matthew lightly hit him on the shoulder, pretending to complain. “Y/N, you’re his deskmate, you’ve gotta make sure he doesn’t get in trouble!” Mingi replied. “Well they’re not doing that well of a job considering how both of them got called out by Mr. Kim already…” Alice joined in. Y/N sighed, they waved back at Hanbin and Taerae, and then walked their way back to their classroom. Matthew’s friends weren’t that bad at all. It was surprising to Y/N how quickly they managed to make them feel at ease.

The remaining lessons were over quite quickly, and when Mr. Kim came back for the last class, he had prepared a small evaluation test for the class to take in pairs. It wasn’t really difficult, and by then, Matthew and Y/N had had enough conversations for them to avoid feeling awkward and focus on the test, even joking around from time to time as some of the problems presented to them were quite funny. After they were done, they handed their test over, and made their way out of the class. There were a few people already out, waiting for everybody to finish. They were discussing what answers were correct for each question, and Matthew basically dragged Y/N into the conversation. The two were satisfied as it seemed like they had done a good enough job. Not too long after, the bell rang, and people started making their way out of the school. After having said bye to Matthew, Mingi and Jisoo, Alice and Y/N got on the bus back home. They were slightly tired, but the fact that club activities had not started yet made everything easier on them. “T’was not a bad first day, was it?” “That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one who made a mess in the cafeteria…” “Nobody even noticed…” “People were looking though.” “Not for long!” Y/N sighed. “...I guess that’s true. It wasn’t that bad. Matthew and his friends seem nice too.” Alice nodded. “Pretty cute as well.” Y/N laughed out loud in response. Alice wasn’t wrong, they were all quite handsome. Y/N could have seen all of them as potential idols or models in the future. “That’s my stop!” Alice said as she waved to Y/N. “See you tomorrow!” “See ya.” Soon enough, Y/N’s bus stop also came in sight, prompting them to stand up and move to get off. It didn’t take long for Y/N to walk down the road to reach their house, their mind empty as they only thought about wanting to take an afternoon nap. “Well, hello there.” A familiar voice called out to them. Y/N turned around to stare at the source of said voice, only to find Matthew’s friend, Sung Hanbin, standing behind them. “...Oh, hi. What…are you doing here?” Hanbin was smiling gently, and Y/N’s body couldn’t help but react by smiling back at him. They noticed he wasn’t wearing the same shirt that was dirtied in the cafeteria. Did someone lend him a new shirt? Did he get in trouble with teachers for having dirtied his school uniform? Y/N’s paranoid mind brought them to worry about things that likely didn’t even matter. “I transferred there.” Hanbin pointed in a direction behind Y/N, and when they turned around, they saw it was the house that was recently sold that Hanbin was pointing at. “Oh, I see.” “What about you?” He asked with a curious tone of voice. “I live there.” Y/N exclaimed, pointing at a house that was two buildings away from Hanbin’s own.

Y/N didn’t know what to say and how to react to Hanbin’s surprised face. His small smile turned bigger, as his eyes started to shine a light of their own. “Are you for real?!” Y/N lightly nodded their head. “Mhm.” Hanbin immediately went to grab Y/N’s hands in his own, shaking them up and down energetically. ‘...What is wrong with him…’ Y/N couldn’t help but think that, even though they didn’t mean that as a mean question, they were weirdly happy about that outburst of energy. “I’m so glad to have someone I know in the neighborhood!” He said as he finally let go of Y/N’s hand, only to take a step back, cough to himself to recompose himself, and lean a hand forward. “I should officially introduce myself: my name is Sung Hanbin, it’s nice to meet you, neighbor.” Y/N’s eyes widened as they paused for a second to stare at the young man in front of them. They opened their mouth to say something, but only a loud laughter came out. “W- I was just-” Y/N took Hanbin’s hand in their own, shaking it firmly. “L/N Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you, neighbor.” If Y/N’s life were to be transposed to a movie or a TV series, Y/N knew that they wouldn’t be able to be a main character. They did not have the qualities to be one. But Sung Hanbin did. Sung Hanbin had all the qualities to be the main character of any story he’d be put in. Even if it were Y/N’s life, Sung Hanbin would end up becoming the protagonist. Y/N was ok with that, as Sung Hanbin was the person that would have turned their entire life into something Y/N would have never let go of. On that day, Sung Hanbing and L/N YN’s story began.